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auteurdelabre · 5 months

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Something to Fight For (Series) Part 19 [JoelMillerxf!reader]

Word Count: 5.6k

Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no age or physical descriptions)

Warning: Descriptions of violence, girlie hitting her boiling point

A/N: WE’RE SO CLOSE YA'LL.

MASTERLIST HERE

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When you wake up the next morning you expect Joel to be gone. You think it’s because you can’t understand why he would stay. Why stay with you when you’ve told him all your awful secrets?

But Joel is still there beside you overtop the sheets, his clothes rumpled from sleeping in them, his breathing even. He’s curled around you, his large frame warm and comforting. You can’t help but stare at him in sleep, marveling at how his face is slack, the lines lessened, more youthful looking. His lips are pouty in sleep, parted slightly.

Kissing him when he’s asleep would be wrong, despite how much you want to press your mouth to his, so you settle for the tip of his nose. It’s a soft thing, a gentle thing. It stirs him into wakefulness, his voice scratchy from disuse.

“Hey honey.”

Honey.

He’s not thinking clearly, his mind still addled with sleep. He smiles at you from the pillow, eyes still lazy lidded, licking his dried lips.

You're warm, sweaty from his arms around you during the night and the still blazing electric fireplace. It sticks tendrils of hair to your damp temples but you still don't pull back from him.

You stay nestled there, your hand slipping down Joel's forearm, marveling at the strength in those muscles under your fingers. Your hands go to Joel's wrist, raising it and the watch encircled there to your face so you can read the time.

He's smirking at you as he watches this from half-opened eyes, puffy from lack of sleep.

"Weddings in a couple of hours," you mutter softly as you lower his wrist back to its original place draped over your waist. Your hands clasp under your chin as you go back to snuggle against his chest.

"Yeah. Got lots to do," Joel murmurs his voice thick and growly with sleep. His hand strokes your hair softly, reassuringly. The vibration of his deep baritone rumbles through his chest and subsequently through your arms.

Against all odds it makes your thighs tighten. It makes your eyes shutter at his nearness. You swallow lightly, willing yourself not to do it. Not to take this sacred moment between you and Joel and spoil it.

You wonder if you should tell him about Paul or save it for another time. Right now feels rushed, your days so long and stretching ahead of you with the wedding. Mentioning Paul doesn’t seem smart, especially when you haven’t officially broken up with him yet. And even if you do, does that really change everything? Will you not go to Chicago? Will you really turn your back on your family?

And the larger part is that you don’t want Paul’s name in this moment, you don’t want the outside world to break into this bubble of comfort the two of you share.

There is a strange moment where you see yourself outside your body, almost able to envision how you look curled up together. This man that you thought you hated. You pull back to look at his face, at the eyes you can’t stop falling into.

You think back to the day you met. The anger you’d felt at his loud music and it makes you smile, huffing a small laugh. Joel observes this, his own smile curling at the corners.

“What?”

"What were you thinking of that first day?"

"Huh?"

"When you were in your truck," you say, relaxing against him. "The day we met. I remember you looked so lost in thought.”

Joel thinks back to that evening and smiles.

"I was thinkin' it was gonna be a long fucking night." You both laugh. "Tommy was never good at set ups. I was worried about Sarah back at the neighbors. I was exhausted because it had been such a long day at work."

Jesus, you never realized how much went on behind those big brown eyes. You move your gaze to his shoulder, overcome.

"I had my music loud, just trying to clear my head and then over it I hear someone call 'hey'."

You smile, wanting to say 'that was me!' like a child hearing their name in a story.

"And you saw the most annoying woman in the world in the car next to you," you finish for him with a giggle. "And she tells you turn down the music and calls you an asshole and-"

"I look over," Joel interrupts to correct you with a smirk, voice still scratchy. "And I see this woman, so fucking beautiful I forget how to speak."

Your body feels warm and now your eyes drag from his shoulder back to his dark eyes. How is that possible? You think back to that day so many months ago, the look on Joel's face in the truck.? You'd always assumed he'd just been taken aback by your temper.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Joel nods. "And I'm thinking how can someone that fucking gorgeous be single. . . and then she starts screaming at me and calling me an asshole and it all makes sense."

The sharp laughter escapes you, sounding out into the quiet of your home. Joel grins widely at your reaction, chuckling and glancing down at your head when you bury your face in his chest, still laughing. Joel considers not continuing, but he's emboldened by your delighted reaction .

"And then it turns out she's my date and that whole night I'm trying not to look at her,” Joel’s voice is soft and dreamy. "Trying not to stare because she's made it very clear how she feels about me back in the parking lot. And I'm rude, trying to cover up for the fact that I can't stop staring at her. That when she talks about what she's does for work she's even more fucking beautiful and I'm getting outta sorts."

Your pulse is ticking the more he speaks, memories flooding you.

"And then I get that call from Sarah's babysitter and I think then Christ, I gotta get away from this woman and now I have a reason. Then a couple weeks go by and I’m tryin’ to forget about her but it’s hard because my brother and her best friend have gone and fallen in love,” Joel smiles. “So I keep running into her at the house and I see her trying to avoid me the best she can. And then I have to go to her fucking office and see her.”

You’re smiling gently, listening intently. Hearing your story from Joel’s perspective is so different from your own, so much more nuanced than you ever could have imagined. There are parts skipped over, details you want to press him on. But you just lay there, eyes darting to his face as he looks dreamily into middle distance.

“And when I see Sarah drawn to her, just like I was I realize I’m fucking powerless. This woman’s got a hold on both of us and I can’t shake her loose, even though she’s told me she wants nothing to do with me.”

You know what he’s referencing. That first day in your office when you had forced yourself to speak to him.

"So I propose that we act like we don't despise one another when we're in their company. Other than that, I see no need for us to act like friends. You don't have to pretend to be interested in my life and I don't have to pretend to be interested in yours."

"So we'll just dislike each other in secret.”

"Exactly.”

You think of the awkward way he walked around your office, the quiet way he observed you and the space you work. His attempt at small talk. All of these things had compiled in your mind as evidence of his distaste for you. But now as he explains it, you can see these moments like snapshots, moments in time where he was trying to reach out to you.

“Then Tommy and Maria mention they wanna go away, but I have a bid meeting. Tommy suggests you, he knows it’s a long shot. And he’s shocked when I agree so readily, and I’m tryin’ to not be obvious but he knew back then. He knew all along I think.”

“I think everyone knew but us,” you muse, thinking of Maria.

“Everyone but you.”

You give a good-natured push of his shoulder before nestling in there again. You want to hear more. You give a little nod of your head, prompting him to keep going. He strokes the hair that’s fallen across your cheek and continues.

“And then one night Tommy mentions this bar and trivia with his girlfriend and her best friend. The one I can’t stop thinking about, the one that I just know despises me. And I ask him if your team could use another player.”

“What?” you prop yourself up on your elbows, your mouth dropping. “Tommy said he dragged you to trivia with us.”

Joel’s ears have gone pink.

“You didn’t notice me tryin’ to flirt with you the whole night? For fucks sake I sat right next to you in the booth. I tried everything to get you to stop hating me. Do you know how good I felt when I got that space question right?”

“Olympus Mons,” you whisper in a giggle. “Mars. I remember.”

“You know how bad I wanted to kiss you?” Joel murmurs, his glittering eyes on your mouth now. “You were there next to me smiling and flushed and you looked so fucking good. It took everything in me not to do it. Can you imagine if I had? You’d have run off screaming.”

“No,” you shake your head. “I wouldn’t have.”

You remember that night, the start of the turn from Joel the annoyance to Joel the handsome brother of Tommy. The night you’d found yourself enjoying his company, the night you’d decided that maybe he wasn’t all bad. You have a feeling if Joel Miller had kissed you in that moment you would have kissed him right back.

“But I told myself that it was just because you were attractive and you were so great with Sarah. Told myself that it was just because you were easy to talk to. Then we went to that sanctuary thing and. . . I felt so nervous, like when you’re a kid with a crush and I just. . . Something changed.”

“It was the first time we felt like a family,” you supply breathlessly. Because that’s how you felt. Walking with Joel and Sarah that day, laughing, the trio of you moving from exhibit to exhibit. That was the first day you’d felt it – that feeling of family, but a family of safety and love.

Joel’s stopped talking, stopped sharing. His eyes are still on your mouth and your head is tilting back to better look at him and it feels so inevitable to collide, to succumb. His hand is on the side of your neck and he's tilting your mouth to his and all you want is him and this moment. All you want is to be in Joel Miller's arms, your mouth on his.

Chicago.

Breaking the engagement.

Selfish.

His mouth hovers near yours, lips straining and almost connecting before you tilt away from him. The moment slips away, like a stone skimming over water before it's submerged. Joel isn't upset, nor angry, but the open need is there. You can see your own reflected in the shining, dark canvas of his eyes.

"I need time Joel" you tell him in a voice you force out of your lungs. "Give me time."

///

It hadn’t even been a question.

Of course he’d give you time, as much of it as you needed. He’s seeing you in a few hours for the wedding, perhaps you’ll have time to talk then? Maybe what happened with you last night will make a difference?

Maybe you’ll end things with Paul.

Maybe.

You sitting on the edge of the bed as Joel pulls on his jacket. Your legs are pulled to your chest, your cheek resting on your knees. Your eyes are troubled, unfocussed. You look as if you’re about to cry.

There’s that tug at his heart. The one he tries to ignore but he he’s already crossing the room, dropping to one knee beside the bed. A hand on your knee, big brown eyes in open understanding and concern.

“Honey?”

You turn and immediately your face relaxes into a smile. You like it when he calls you honey. You like it when he’s near you. Is it really so foolish of him to hope that one day you might love him the way he loves you?

Not if she goes to Chicago.

He can’t follow you there, not permanently. He can’t uproot Sarah from the life and home and family she’s known her entire life. He can’t disrupt her life because he’s so deeply in love with you. His happiness means less than hers. Her comfort means more than his.

“I’m gonna take off,” Joel tells you. “Gotta get ready and bring some stuff to the ranch. I’ll meet you there? Or do you need a ride?”

“I’ve got a ride,” you tell him after a pause, a strange smile on your lips. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you there.”

You stand, taking Joel’s hand in yours as he joins you in walking to the door. He watches the way your eyes go unfocussed again, agitation clear in your features. He’s about to say something when his eyes catch something on your kitchen table.

The engagement ring box.

A thunder in Joel’s chest begins. His eyes dart to your bare left finger and for a moment he feels breathless. Please please please. You open the door and he walks in a daze through the doorframe, pausing when he hears you say his name.

“Thank you for last night,” you say with a sweet look on your face. One that shows how much his presence meant to you. “I don’t. . . I’m so grateful for you. I, I just . . .”

He sees you searching for the words and feels his heart ache for you. There’s so much vulnerability in you right now. It feels wrong to leave you right now. He considers telling you to come with him and get ready at his place.

And then the phone rings. Your cell is buzzing on the table and you go to retrieve it quickly flipping it open. Joel sees your brows saddle as you read the name flashing up at you.

“It’s my Mom,” you say, your eyes wide and fixed on the phone.

Joel says nothing, pausing at the door, waiting. His dark eyes go from your face down to the buzzing phone. You’re just staring at it, unblinking. He wants to force himself back into the suite, hold you while you talk to your Mom. She’s going to ask about Chicago, she’s going guilt you into going.

“You want me to-“

“I gotta take this,” you tell him, your face pinched before you force a terse smile in his direction. “I’ll see you at the wedding. Make sure you trim that beard, Miller. Gotta look respectable.”

He hears you trying to inject levity into your words, but it falls so flat when juxtaposed by the seriousness in your face.

Joel is terrified about what’s going to happen, terrified about what you’re going to say to her. There’s a heaviness in his heart that just knows you’re going to go. That you’re going to be ripped from him and his life so abruptly it could leave a real wound dripping onto the ground below his feet.

And yet he nods. But before you can shut the door on him his face darts back and he presses a kiss to your forehead. A tender, soft thing that has your eyes watering as you watch him leave, his legs scissoring across the lawn to his truck.

///

“Hi Mom.”

“It’s me, sunshine.”

Your father.

Your stomach instantly clenches and you wish you had Joel here. You wish you’d let him stay. You want him holding your hand, soothing you.

“Hi Dad.”

Your eyes clench shut, the hand holding the phone to your ear is trembling.

“You getting ready for the wedding?”

“Uh huh.”

You can hear the sound of a lawn being mowed outside their window. You can picture it now, the narrow little house at the end of the suburban street. Picture perfect from the outside, never suggesting the hint of sinister that lies beyond its doors.

“I bet you look beautiful,” your dad enthuses warmly. “I hope you take lots of pictures.”

And this is what makes it hard, these moments of kindness, of paternal love. These times when you think that perhaps he’s not as awful as you remember. These times when you think that moving to Chicago won’t be so bad.

Except you don’t want to go.

You want to stay here with your job you love, with the people you love.

With Joel.

It’s the memory of his eyes last night, his arms around you that steadies your breath. It gives you a center, a balance as you grip the chair next to you. You’re not going. You’re going to tell him right now.

“I . . . I wanted,” you begin, your voice shaky. “Dad I wanted. . . to uh. . . “

The words won’t come. They’re lodged there in your chest.

“I saw that there’s a sale on flights if we book today,” your dad says, coughing a bit before you can hear the gentle tap of computer keys. “Figured you should get that locked in before it gets pricey. You were planning on next week, right?”

I don’t want to go.

“And I was thinking,” your dad continues. “I know a guy who owns a pet shop out here. Not the same kinda job as where you’re working now, but if you’re living here with your mom and me you only have to chip in a bit for rent. Not even that much.”

I don’t want to go.

“Your mom and I are so glad you’re coming back. Gonna make a big difference having you here. We’re really gonna have a chance.”

“Dad. . . I uh. . . “

He hears the hesitancy in your voice. You can almost hear how his tone shifts, moving from sweet and clear to syrupy, almost saccharine.

“I just don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here.”

It’s over before it’s begun. Images of Joel and Sarah and you in Rancher Lane disappear before your eyes. You know you will relent; you will back down and you feel the tears sliding down your face at the realization.

“Okay dad. I’ll get the ticket.”

You hear the faint sound of your mother calling his name in the background of the phone’s static.

“Oop, your Mom’s calling me for breakfast,” your father says, sounding chipper. “Better go. Tell Maria and Tommy we’re so happy for them. I think your Mom mailed out a card yesterday so it should be arriving soon.”

“Thanks. I will.”

///

Sarah is excited for the wedding. Mostly because she gets to see you and Daddy walking down the aisle again. But Uncle Tommy is here, pouring Alphabits cereal and not the pancakes she was promised by Daddy yesterday.

“Where is Daddy?”

“He had to run an errand,” Uncle Tommy promises with a strained smile. He’s drinking coffee, looking at his watch.

Sarah twists the hem of her polar bear pajamas feeling unsettled. Uncle Tommy looks concerned. And if he’s concerned-

“Sorry!”

She hears her father’s voice as the door unlocks and turns in her chair to see him breathlessly making his way into the kitchen. He looks sleepy, his clothes wrinkled. He moves to Sarah, hand on the back of her chair.

“Mornin’ babygirl,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head before looking to his brother.

“Took you long enough,” Tommy chides but in a way that feels playful. Daddy is smiling at the two of them, a sweet little smile that makes him look bashful.

“I’m so sorry Tom.”

“Everything okay?”

Joel is still sorta smiling when he shrugs. “Dunno.”

“But she knows.”

“Yeah.”

Tommy is smiling broadly and Sarah is confused at what they’re talking about. She goes back to her cereal, trying to see if she can make any words with the floating letters swimming in the milk.

///

Maria is your closest friend so you’ll never tell her how ugly the bridesmaid dress is that she picked for the bridal party. A sea foam green chiffon and tulle number that makes you look like a sad bit of lettuce left out on the counter. And why are there so many fucking bows?

You shake your head, thankful that at least your hair seems to behaving, and the makeup you’ve put on to cover your swollen eyes and blotchy face seems to be covering well. As you put on a second coat of mascara you wish your eyes didn’t look so sad.

There’s a knock at your door and you open it to a freshly shaved Paul. He’s wearing his dark charcoal suit looking very handsome. He gives you a broad smile, about to make his way inside and for some reason it reminds you of your father. Forced cheer to overcompensate for their terrible fucking treatment of you.

“You look gorgeous. Hey I need advice on what tie to wear today,” he says pulling out two ties from his jacket pockets. “Whadda ya think black or cream?”

He makes a motion to step into the suite but you don’t move from the front door. You hold your hand up, stopping him from entering into the space.

You’re so tired of being a fucking pushover.

You’re so tired of being forced into what you don’t want.

You march to the table; grabbing the velvet box and moving swiftly back to the front door before Paul can enter. He looks at you confused, taking the box from you as you shove it into his hands.

"Paul, I'm sorry but I can't do this."

Paul looks at the velvet box and the bare ring finger and realizes right away. He's always had an ability to play to your emotions, to twist his gaze in a way that makes you feel incredibly guilty. He's doing it right now.

"Baby, no."

He tries again to come inside, but stops when your hand again raises outstretched, palm in his direction.

"I'm so sorry," you say with authenticity. "I can't be with you."

"It's this because of the rehearsal?" Paul scoffs. "Just gimme a-"

“No Paul,” you say firmly. “This is because I need this to be done. To be over.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not in love with you. I’m so sorry to say it, but it’s true. And I don’t think you’re in love with me either.” You give him a sad sigh, feeling so awful. “I think we both just ran back to something familiar and safe. But that’s not a valid reason to be together.”

“This is cold feet,” Paul insists, not wanting to hear the alternative.

“Paul I didn’t even want people knowing we were engaged,” you say beseechingly. “Doesn’t that just say it all?”

Paul’s handsome face is twisting. Moving from an indulgent smile as the mask slips and he glares at you. One of his hands goes to brace itself on the doorframe, his neck tilting forward.

“This is because of him, isn’t it?”

You’re quiet. You both know the him he’s referring to.

“You're gonna go play house with that fucking animal? Is that it?"

You don't reply. You don't know that it is Joel. You don't know if your life will take you to Chicago and away from him. All you do know is that your future isn't Paul.

"We can't give each other what we need." You kneel, grabbing the cardboard box beside the door with the rest of his things. "Here. I can come grab my stuff from your place tomorrow."

Paul looks down at the box in your hand, sees how easily his life is to pack up and dispose of for you.

"You just wanna fuck him," Paul insists, cheeks reddening. "It's the truth isn't it? It's why you're there all the time trying to bond with his kid?"

For a really awful moment you wonder if that's how outside people see it. If everyone sees you babysitting and spending time with Sarah as a means to getting her father into bed. This hurts worse than most anything Paul has said because for a horrible self conscious moment you genuinely wonder if that's the truth.

"So go on. Do it," Paul insists. "Get it out if your system and then we can leave this fucking city and start over."

You stare at your ex fiancé for a long moment, trying to understand why you thought him worth pursuing. Why you put all your faith in this man who you realize now is so much like your fucking father. Manipulative, cruel.

"If I can't make it with you, what else is there?" Paul blinks. "You're all I have left."

You wonder if Paul thinks this is a romantic notion. That it will speak to your heart instead of sickening you.

"If it weren't for Joel-"

"Stop trying to blame everything on Joel," you defend, feeling your hackles raise. "We were smart to break up before. The relationship had reached its natural conclusion. We aren't well matched."

"Relationships take work," Paul defends, looking at you beseechingly. "You've said that!"

"Only if both people want it," you tell him. "And I don't. I don’t want this life."

Paul looks desperate then. The sign of a caged animal who has just realized there is no escape. There is no way for him to talk himself out of this. He can see it in your eyes, the lack of emotion, the way you just know what he’s trying to do.

You follow him as he moves back from your door, his hand on the cardboard box of his belongings. You stand on your doorstep, closing the door tightly behind you. You have no wish for Paul to try and rush in there, to try and force you to get back with him. You’re over all of it.

He’s down one step when something in him bristles and he drops the box. He turns, looking at you with such disgust and anger that you actually recoil.

"You're so worried you're selfish like you're dad?” Paul sneers. “Well congrats, you are him. Fucking up a good thing because of what just you want."

There it is.

That secret sentence to unlock all your fears and insecurities. That observation of your worst self brought to light. And Paul knows it- he sees it in the way you blink and step back. In the blanching of your face and widening eyes.

"You know I'm right," Paul hisses "Even if you and Joel get together it's just a matter of if time before you fuck it up. He'll want one thing, you'll want the other and it'll be us all over again. Except Joel doesn't love you like I do. Because when you leave he won't come back."

There is serenity in your smile, a quiet power that shocks Paul when he sees it.

"I'd never leave Joel."

You're not expecting the shove because Paul has never been violent before. So when jerks forward to grip you by the front of your dress and shove you back against the door you're shocked into silence.

"That's how you like it right?" Paul sneers, Slamming your spine against the wood. "You must like it rough with that fucking caveman. Don't think he's capable of anything else."

His hand is at your windpipe, pressing you against your front door.

"Must be getting real wet now," Paul sneers. "Bet you love it when Joel manhandles you."

No, you think. Joel would never hurt you. Joel would never lay an unkind finger on your body.

"Stop," you cry out, trying your best to push him from you. But Paul has always been stronger than you and he holds you by the throat, pulling you forward and slamming you backwards.

Your vision blurs at the impact and if you weren't pinned to the door you'd double over. As it is you can only moan and lower your head, defeated.

"You ruined everything you selfish fucking cunt," Paul shouts in your face and all you can hear is the words of so many raining down on you.

Least selfish person I know.

That's what you do when you love someone

You can’t sacrifice everything

Run

I'm a horrible selfish person.

That's what you do when you love someone

Run

Let me take care of you.

Is that being selfish? I think you might be fucking insane.

That's what you do when you love someone

Something inside you snaps.

You bring your face up sharply, catching his jaw with the back of your skull and sending him reeling back. He trips over the step, sending him flying onto his back.

You don't even think. Even as your head pounds you just pounce on top of him, your hands curled into fists as you begin to pummel him.

He's shouting, but all you can see is the blood from his broken nose, the fury in his eyes. And you stop when you hear a high pitched wailing and realize that it’s you.

But Paul has you by the throat again, shaking you, and you think back to all those nights with you crying over your dad to stop drinking and wishing for escape you want to cry at how some things never fucking change because here you are years later crying and wishing for escape.

And then a voice booms, truly booms from your right.

"Enough!"

Your attention is on the broad man behind Paul. The man wearing a black suit and tie. The man who is marching over the grass looking angrier than you've ever seen him.

Paul drops your throat and you fall to your knees in the grass catching your breath. He turns to face the wall of a man streaking towards him.

"Bill?"

Frank wanders out onto the porch, oblivious as he straightens his bowtie. He hears your voice and looks over just in time to see Bill rear back before dealing a devastating blow to Paul's face.

Paul drops to the ground like a sack of potatoes. You realize now that Joel had been holding back in that McDonald's but Bill isn't today.

"Laying hands on a woman?" Bill growls, spittle wetting his lips. Another blow to Paul's jaw. "You worthless fucking -"

Frank is there, shouting at his husband to stop while he brings you shaking into his arms.

"Stop," you insist, pulling at Bill's shoulder. You don't want him to kill Paul (well, maybe you do) but this isn't his fight to win.

"Get off me!" Paul gurgles a hateful slur through a mouthful of blood.

You look at him with horror, the hideousness of his words and when Frank is the one who jolts forward to punch Paul with a snapping crack you simply watch in approving silence. The two men in suits step back, breathing heavily.

Paul is scrambling to a stand, wiping the blood from his face with the back of his hands. Your entire body is thrumming with adrenaline and terror at the sight.

"I'm gonna go to the cops," Paul shouts. You can see from here that one of his teeth at the front is chipped. Bye bye perfect smile.

"I'll tell them it was all me," you say with a grim look. "And I'll tell them it was because you attacked me. You fucking attacked me, Paul. That’s the truth."

Paul gapes at you. You think it’s just hit him that he actually assaulted you.

"Fucking-"

"Save it," you reply wheezing. The box of his belongings is still there in the grass. You heft it before slamming it into his chest. "Don't ever come back here again. If I see a fucking hint that you’ve been around I will call the cops and tell them everything you did to me."

Paul stares at you for a moment, taking in the sight. You realize it’s because he’s never seen this version of you, the real you. He’s about to turn, about to when your hand jerks out to grip his arm, stopping him.

“And give me back my fucking car keys. Now.”

Paul looks like he’s about to decline when you see Bill step forward in your peripheral. Frank murmurs something, trying to hold him back. Then Paul is muttering every name in the book as he digs into his pocket. He throws the keys at you, spitting globs of pink saliva in your direction as he marches away down the street.

“Are you okay to drive?” Frank asks looking at your wild grass-filled hair as you bend to pick up the keys. You give a crooked smile, nodding. You look down, thankful that a few grass stains are on the dress, nothing a tide stick can’t fix.

“I’ll see you at the wedding.”

Bill and Frank watch as you march down to the car parked in your driveway. Your car. You throw yourself into the vehicle, your feet still bare. You turn over the engine, thankful that Paul at least had it a quarter tank.

But you need to do one more thing. Because its all so fucking obvious. All so fucking easy. A million decisions that seemed so impossible have suddenly become crystal clear in clarity.

You rush back into the house, past Frank who is trying to smooth Bill’s hair and Bill who is trying to fix Frank’s bow tie. You slip into your heels, grab your purse and dial the number on your cell phone.

The cell is anchored between your ear and shoulder as it rings and you walk out into the sunshine. Frank and Bill have disappeared, likely to go and change into suits that don’t have bloodstains.

“Hello?”

A pit in your stomach forms

“Dad?”

“Hey sunshine, you got the tick-“

“No,” you say, your heart jumping as you spin the wheel, twisting out of the driveway.

“Oh, it didn’t go through?”

“No, I’m not buying the ticket,” you say clearly, no hesitation to be found. “And I’m not coming home. Not for a long time. Maybe not ever. I dunno, I’ll have to see how I feel.”

Your dad is confused, his breathing unsteady. But you know this is part of it, part of the garner of sympathy. But you’re not falling for it.

“But su-“

“No dad,” you snap. "I'm not coming home."

"This doesn't sound like you," your father offers after a beat. You can hear the tension creeping into his voice. "Maybe if you spoke to your Mother-"

"I need a break actually, from both of you," you say, and now a bit of guilt forms. "When I feel ready, I'll reach out to mom. But I need to see if I want a relationship with you, Dad.”

You’re voice is so strong, so steady. It belies the rapidly beating heart in your chest. You hear the turn as if you’re seeing it. The downward slash of your father’s thin lips.

“That’s such a selfish attitude and I-“

“No dad,” you interrupt, almost laughing because you’ve been holding this forever. Holding onto a life that doesn’t exist and a father that died when you were fifteen on the way to the hospital. You think of Joel and how he looks at Sarah, how he loves her and takes care of her and cherishes her. Because there are dad's like that exist in the world. Good fathers who would sacrifice everything for their children. It gives you the strength to say the things you've been holding back.

“I’m not being selfish. Selfish is choosing drugs over your family. Selfish is guilting your daughter into giving up her dreams and her life so you can fuck up yours. For once in your life you stop being a selfish.”

And then the phone is turned off. It’s shoved into your purse as you make your way across the lawn to your car.

And for the first time in your life, you're not running away from something.

You're running towards it.

#fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #fanfic #smut #pedro pascal #dad joel miller

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whore-ibly-hot · 4 months

Note

How strong is Joey? You said previously he has big man tatas

And how’d he treat his sons vs daughters? I feel like he’s accidentally lovingly misogynistic. Especially given his conservative religious upbringing. Like he doesn’t believe that darling should labor in the sun, but he doesn’t believe that darling is lesser than him because she’s a woman. Does this make sense?????

Joey's actually very good about beating back any unintentional misogyny. He has a lot of family members, but Betty Jo, one of his sisters, is probably the biggest and strongest laborer in the family. She's huge, and could probably hog tie a cow and carry it into the next field if she needed. He's no stranger to women working just as hard if not harder at traditional masculine activites than men.

He tends be more gentle and allow darling to stay in the house and do stereotypically feminine chores because he just loves them so much! He thinks they're delicate, and their from the city. He doesn't want them to overwork themselves!

As far as kids, Joey is thrilled at whatever his little guy or gal is into! More of a home chores kid? Great! Wants to help on the farm? Awesome. Doesn't really want to do anything but sit and play with rocks? A little odd, but he's more than happy to join in.

The only real difference in how Joey treats kids is age. Until the kid is about eight or so, Joey will treat them like glass. Gently holding them, extremely slow and careful piggyback rides, and baby proofing the house even if they're old enough to ride a bike and swim. Once they're over eight? All bets are off. Play wrestling, swinging the kid around over his head, or throwing them into a big bale of hay from the hayloft. All if the kid is okay with it, of course.

He's excited is his kiddo is good at something he isn't. If Joey's little boy comes up to him and talks about how much he likes cooking or baking, Joey's thrilled! He's always had someone too make meals for him, and he can't cook to save his life. He's so excited that his kiddo has a hobby he can learn with them. Regardless of what his kid is into, he'll sit and listen with fascination.

Joey has had a lot of siblings, but as the youngest boy he doesn't have a ton of experience with babies. Because of this, you'll have to tell him off from time to time, as well as his other family members because of the odd things he may do. He's only ever been around baby animals, so you'll have to explain why human babies can't be held by a scruff, or why they won't start walking within a few days like a baby cow. He's a little disappointed he won't be able to have a conversation with his kid for a few years, but that doesn't stop him from talking to them.

"Mhmm, there's my big healthy lil' dumpling'. What're you gigglin' at, huh? You happy to see daddy? Are ya?"

Joey is thrilled that his family uses hand me downs so much now that he has kids of his own. Seeing his little girl in his old red truck shirt of his little boy in some big green rain boots is enough to make him cry. Expect to see him showing the kids and the rest of the town old family photos of him in the same clothes when he was little.

He's a great dad, especially in the early years. Diapers need changed? He's dealt with grosser. Babies hungry? You stay in bed, he'll feed them. You honestly don't even need to purchase a crib, because his baby is not leaving his broad chest.

"Cmon, darlin'! I'm big and soft, I'm just as good as any old crib, and Joey Jr. Here agrees. Let him stay a lil' longer? Please?"

#ask me stuff #yandere #yandere oc #tw.yandere #yandere fanfiction #yandere content #x reader #yandere boy #oc joey #yandere farmboy #yandere farmer

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

Text

Tranquility.

You're not good at keeping secrets from the boys. Turns out, Will isn't either.

Pairing - Will Miller x female reader. Benny Miller, Santiago Garcia, Frankie Morales x female reader.

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - Brief allusion to sexual content. No cursing in this one!!

Word Count - 4.3k

Author's Note - hi lovelies. here's another triple frontier fic for you all!! i love writing these boys so much. we all know by now that i am a total will girly, so it's no surprise he takes the lead in this one. but all the boys are included - i can't leave them out <3. as always, if you have any specific requests or thoughts, send them over!! lots of love x

my other triple frontier fics - Tethered, Time, and Home Is Where The Heart Is.

Masterlist. Requests.

“Baby, we gotta go!”

“Coming!” you yell, running down the stairs with a duffel bag in your hand. “Almost forgot my toothbrush.”

“You’d forget your head if it wasn’t on your neck,” Will winks, nudging you with his shoulder.

“Shut up, Miller,” you tease, no real malice in your voice. You lean up to peck his lips gently, before he takes a step back.

“We can’t be late again. I can’t make up another excuse – last time was bad enough.”

“That was literally your fault! You were the one that couldn’t keep your hands off me, like some sort of teenage boy,” you laugh.

“It was the green dress’ fault, not mine. I don’t regret it,” he chuckles.

Will winks at you again before picking up your bags and walking outside to pack up the car.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Four days by the lake with your boys sounded like complete and utter bliss. When Frankie had suggested it, initially, everyone had laughed it off. Realistically, it wouldn’t work. You all struggle to plan a day off at the same time, never mind multiple. It sounded like a sweet little idea. Nothing more.

Then, life got stressful. Work was tough on everyone, families causing issues, deadlines looming – the mundane routine of every day wearing the five of you down. Eventually, it was Santiago that snapped.

“We’re going to that damn lake house,” he exclaimed one evening in Benny’s backyard. “I don’t care what we have to do. I don’t care if we all have to call in sick. We are going to the lake house.”

He looked around at his friends, expecting them to instantly shut him down. Instead, he was met with unanimous nods of agreement.

That was months ago. It was a logistical nightmare, working out your schedules to intertwine with each other, but you did it. You were ridiculously ready for four days of swimming, drinking, sunbathing and laughing with your favourite people in the entire world. It sounded like the well deserved break everyone needed.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Will’s warm palm meets the bare skin of your thigh as he drives. The roads are long and monotonous, but you don’t care. Everything is an adventure with him.

“You still sure about not telling ‘em?” he asks, blue eyes flitting over to you briefly. He’s got a gentle smile on his face. He always does when he’s with you. It’s like his default setting.

“Yeah, I think I am. Are you?”

“Yeah. Think we should live in paradise a little longer.”

“Paradise, huh?” you tease, squeezing his hand.

“You know it is. I’m on cloud nine every moment I’m with you, baby.”

His words make your head spin, and you’re glad you’re sitting down already. You wonder everyday how you got so lucky. It’s rare, to know with full certainty that you are someone’s favourite person in the world. The centre of their universe. Sometimes, it’s overwhelming. Mostly, it’s astounding. It warms up your bones, settles itself carefully into your ribcage, pumping your heart to the beat of Will’s love. What a gift.

Which is why you’ve decided to keep the two of you a secret from the boys. You know that it won’t change anything between the group, not really – but you’re a little worried nonetheless. It’s scary, altering a dynamic that works so well. The five of you, stuck like glue, know each other like the lyrics to your favourite songs. You know each others strengths, weaknesses, favourite ice cream flavours, middle names, star signs, families – everything. It’s the kind of friendship that binds you together for life. Changing that in any way would break your heart. Will’s too. You know, deep down, that they’ll be perfectly accepting. But the fear still lingers, ugly and unwavering.

Also - you and Will didn’t take the most conventional route into a relationship.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The two of you met in Delta Force. Co-workers, first. Comrades in arms. He had your back, you had his. You saved each other’s lives countless times. You’d stitch up each other’s wounds, carry each other back to base, share your water even though you only had a drop left. You were a team.

Then, you became friends. It’s hard not to, when you’re thrown into a life-or-death situation. You spent 24 hours a day together, wherever you were sent – sometimes Asia, sometimes South America, sometimes Africa. You got to know each other, learnt one another’s quirks and habits and likes and dislikes. The five of you bonded quickly and effortlessly. It made you a slick team, your missions running like clockwork. You could all predict each other’s movements, finish each other’s sentences. It’s what made you so successful, so revered.

After Delta Force, you became friends outside of work. Forced proximity friendship is one thing, but actually making the time to see each other back on home soil is another. You were worried that you were going to drift, and all of the trust built would perish. That wasn’t the case. The five of you quickly adjusted to being home together. You’d all spend Saturdays in Frankie’s backyard, Friday nights on Santiago’s porch, Sundays in Will’s kitchen. You’d pop by and see Benny on a Wednesday night after work, ready to watch another episode of that reality show you both couldn’t get enough of. You’d see Will any chance you got. Sunday morning farmers market trips and early swims and pancakes for breakfast and why don’t you just stay over? It’ll save you driving home.

You’d been best friends with Will for years before you realised how you felt about him.

It’d hit you, all of a sudden, one Sunday morning. You drove over to Will’s to pick him up, ready to go to the flea market downtown. You were going to grab lunch after, maybe cook some dinner together later. Just an average day.

You let yourself in to his house using the key he’d had made for you years ago. You had keys to all the boy’s places – just in case. You found Will at the stove, shirtless, golden skin on display. Whatever he was cooking smelled heavenly, and you wondered for a minute how it was fair that he was talented at everything.

“Morning, Miller,” you sing, throwing your bag down and striding over to him.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he replies, turning around to face you. He opens his arms and you step into his space, wrapping yourself around him and resting your head on his bare chest. You inhale, breathing in his scent deliberately. He smells like warmth and sleep and sunshine and promises.

You take a step back, craning your neck to look at him. The morning sunlight is gleaming through the windows, casting a gold hue across the room. Will’s hair is glowing, illuminating him like some sort of halo. Angelic boy.

Those ocean blue eyes survey you carefully. He rests his hands on your hips, pulling you in closer.

“What’s on your mind? I can see it runnin’ a mile a minute,” he murmurs. You try to look down, but he catches your chin with his thumb and forefinger, gently guiding you back up.

How do you explain that you’ve just realised that you’re completely, utterly, irreversibly in love with Will Miller? That it’s just dawned on you like a sunrise, warm and promising? How do you tell someone that you’re quite convinced you’ll drop dead if you don’t kiss them immediately? Is it even possible to explain these feelings? Is it possible to put all of these emotions into words? Are there enough words in any language to explain the enormity of what you’re experiencing?

Instead, you simply say,

“I’m in love with you.”

Will’s pupils blow wide, and he sways slightly, as if the weight of your confession has knocked him off balance. You steady him by cradling his face, forcing him to look at you.

“You don’t have to say it back,” you continue. “But I’ve kind of just put the pieces together, and it seems stupid not to tell you. You of all people know that life is short and fragile and can change in the blink of an eye, so I just thought –”

Will cuts you off by smashing his lips against yours. The kiss is passionate and tender and so full of love you’re convinced you could get drunk off it. He pulls back for air and looks at you earnestly.

“Don’t have to say it back? Sweetheart, do you know how often I’ve dreamt of you saying those words to me?”

You can’t help but break out into a grin. You feel like you’re floating, levitating above ground, held up purely by the love William Miller has for you.

“You have?” you ask, disbelief written on your features. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was waiting for you,” he beams. “I knew you’d figure it out eventually.”

You smile at him ear to ear before jumping into his arms. You kiss him again, legs wrapping around his waist to anchor yourself, closing the distance. He spins around the kitchen with you in his arms, the joy of being in love filling the room.

Suddenly, Will puts you down.

“Stay here,” he tells you, before sprinting upstairs.

Usually, you can predict Will’s every move. But not now. Now, you’re more confused than you’ve ever been.

He returns, placing a kiss to your forehead, before getting down on one knee in front of you.

“Marry me,” he says, complete certainty in his voice. You’ve never heard him this assured.

“Will… what?” you ask incredulously. You confessed your love for each other ten minutes ago, and you’ve skipped straight to marriage, apparently.

“Listen. I know it’s crazy. I know it seems fast. But we’ve loved each other for years, sweetheart. I realised when I met you that I was never, ever going to love anyone else again.”

He pulls out a box from the pocket of his pyjama pants and opens it to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring. It’s understated and it’s elegant and it’s just so you.

“I bought this two years ago. Maybe you think I’m insane, and maybe you’re going to run out of that door the minute I stop talking. But I’ve never been surer of anything in my entire life.”

You’ve been trying to catch your breath unsuccessfully for the past few minutes. It feels like everything is moving in slow motion, and your brain is trying to keep up.

“Will, we aren’t even technically dating,” you tease playfully. You already know your answer. You just like hearing him bear his truth to you like this.

“We’ve been dating for years, technically,” he rallies. “Everyone always thinks we’re a couple. We’re together every weekend, we go on dates, you sleep over… we went grocery shopping last week!”

You grin, remembering how you’d jokingly argued over whether to get the red or the green grapes, and how you’d ended up getting both. It was all so domestic it made your heart ache.

The two of you sit in the silence for a minute, Will still on one knee. He’s looking up at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. There’s no doubt in your mind what you’ll say.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Will. God, yes. The easiest yes of my entire life.”

He jumps up to grab you, spinning you in circles. You kiss him with so much force he stumbles backwards. Will takes your left hand, and carefully slides the ring onto your finger. It looks like it’s always belonged there.

You always knew it’d be Will Miller. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

That was months ago. The other boys know that you and Will spend a lot of time together one on one, so no one has suspected anything out of the ordinary. You have no doubt they’ll be happy for you both, but you’re content to keep everything a secret a little while longer. It’s easier, that way. It means you and Will get to keep living in your bubble of bliss, unphased by the outside world. You’ll tell them soon enough. You’re just trying to savour every last second.

“We’ll tell them soon,” you reassure Will, interlocking your fingers with his where they rest on your leg. “We’ll make it a whole thing, if you like. It feels like something that warrants a celebration.”

“Oh, definitely,” he grins, turning his eyes back to the road. “We’re almost there. So, you’re gonna have to act like you’re not totally head over heels in love with me for four days. You think you can manage?”

You scoff playfully, and squeeze his hand.

“I’m sure I’ll be okay,” you tease. He chuckles, and the melody of it is music to your ears.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You arrive at the lake house only ten minutes late, which you and Will agree is not entirely unacceptable.

“Finally, they’re here!” Benny yells as he bounds over to the car. He envelopes you in a bear hug, picking you up off the ground accidentally.

“Frankie is inside,” Santiago reassures when he catches you looking over his shoulder. You turn to give him a hug, and he kisses you on the cheek. Old habit.

“Santi, did you pack bug spray? You know the mosquitoes love you,” you wink, running your hands through his hair affectionately. He has greys coming through, and they suit him beautifully.

“Yes, hermosa, I got your text reminding me,” he smiles. “Thank you.”

You and Will grab your bags and make your way inside, where Frankie is making margaritas.

“Hola, mi amor,” he greets, wrapping his arms around you. “How was the journey?”

“All good, Francisco,” you reply. “I have a very reliable chauffeur.”

Will laughs from behind you, and it makes your knees weak.

“Bad news, you guys!” Benny interrupts, jumping to sit on the counter. “You two have to share a room, since you were the last ones here. Finders, keepers, and all that.”

That really isn’t the inconvenience that the boys think it is, but you and Will play along nonetheless.

“Damn it. He snores, you know!” you laugh, looking over to where Will is pretending to be offended, hand over his heart.

“That’s what you get for being late, losers!” Benny retorts, throwing his head back in amusement. Everyone laughs along with him, and all the tension melts from your body.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

It’s day one, and you’re already struggling. You’re all relaxing on the dock, soaking up the sun’s rays. Will is wearing his forest green swim trunks with a ridiculously small inseam, his strong thighs on display. You so badly want to kiss them, lick them, bite down on them in the way you know he likes. Instead, you sip your margarita and settle for ogling him over the rim of your sunglasses.

He dives into the lake elegantly, and a bead of sweat drips down your neck. He breaks the surface, coming up for air, and pushes his hair back, water cascading down his golden skin. He’s glowing, beaming, gleaming in the sunlight like an ancient marble statue. You’re practically panting. Santiago notices.

“You okay, hermosa?” he asks, giving you a once over.

“Yeah, Santi, I’m good. Just super warm,” you lie. He seems to buy it, because he moves to grab his book, fanning you with it. Admittedly, the light breeze does cool you off, and distracts you from Will. Double win.

“Thank you, kind sir,” you joke, as he pretends to tip his hat towards you.

“You should join us!” Benny shouts from the lake. When did he even jump in?

“Yeah, come on, darlin’” Will chimes in, watching you with a slight smirk on his face. He’s not going to pass up the chance to see you sun soaked and dripping wet.

“Fine!” you huff jokingly, pulling your oversized t shirt (which you’re realising belongs to Frankie – when did you steal that?) over your head. You’re left in a bikini that leaves little to the imagination, the bright colour accentuating your skin beautifully. You look good. You feel good.

Will looks you up and down and takes a deep breath. You’re just friends, remember? He’s trying to convince himself, attempting to make the act somewhat believable. You break him out of his thoughts by running along the dock as fast as you can, and diving into the lake with a surprising amount of grace.

The five of you spend all afternoon in the water. Benny thinks it’s hilarious to pick you up, placing you on his shoulders before jumping backwards, sending you both flying through the air. You all play catch, laughing when Frankie misses the ball and accidentally punches Santi right in the stomach. You and Will easily fall back into your old habits of being friends, but you can’t help but notice the way his eyes linger just a second too long every now and again. You’re sure nobody else clocks on, all of the boys too busy splashing each other like children.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

When the evening comes, you all shower and dry off while Will and Frankie make dinner. You, Benny and Santi curl up on the couch, trying to warm each other up after hours of being in the water. You eat, you laugh, and you all swap stories about the things that you’ve missed since you last saw each other properly. It’s bliss. Perfect tranquility.

The sun sets, and you all move outside to the deck. Santi starts a campfire, and the five of you grab beers, settling into the warmth of the crackling wood. Everyone is relaxed, not a care in the world. You wish, for a moment, that life could always be like this. As if reading your thoughts, Will reaches out and brushes your cheekbone with his thumb in a fleeting moment, before retracting his hand as if nothing happened.

“I’m gonna make us some warm ciders,” Frankie decides, rising from his chair.

“I’ll come and help you. You always put way too much alcohol in - these idiots can’t handle it,” you signal towards where Benny, Will and Santiago are sat. They all scoff at you, laughing because they know it’s true.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You sit atop the counter next to where Frankie begins gathering his ingredients. When a strand of hair falls into his eyes, you move it away gently.

“Will you let me cut your hair tomorrow? It’s getting in your way,” you ask him softly.

“Of course, mi amor. Wouldn’t trust anyone else.”

He smiles at you, and your heart swells. You love this man so much - some days you wonder how you got so lucky. All five of you are bonded for life, best friends until the end. But there’s no denying that you and Frankie have always understood each other on another level.

He stops making the drinks, moving to stand between your legs. He looks at you intently, as if he’s trying to solve something.

“I like seeing you happy like this,” he murmurs.

“How can I not be?” you whisper back. “I’m with my favourite people. I have everything I could ever want.”

“Yeah, but this is different.”

You scrunch your brows in confusion, and he chuckles. He begins to draw slow circles just above your bare knee. You can tell he’s thinking carefully.

“It’s Will, isn’t it?” he asks, gentle smile on his face.

In this moment, you could lie. You could feign innocence, deny it with your life, maintain that you and Will are just friends. But what’s the use? Why hide the best thing that’s ever happened to you from one of the people you love the most in the world?

“Yeah,” you grin. “It’s Will.”

He’s practically beaming at you now, equal parts proud of himself and you.

“Knew it,” he murmurs, careful to keep his voice down. “Did something happen?”

You realise now that there’s absolutely no point in lying to Frankie. You’ve come this far. Might as well tell him the truth.

“We’re engaged,” you whisper, grinning from ear to ear.

He pauses for a moment, processing the news. You can see the shock registering on his face. Then, he lunges forward, wrapping his arms around you.

“Oh my god, hermosa! You’re kidding!”

He’s squeezing you so tight you can barely breathe. You hear a shout from the boys outside and remember where you are.

“We haven’t told anyone yet. We’re just living in our little bubble of happiness for a while.”

“Hey, I get it,” he reassures. “I’m so happy for you. Both of you. I knew it’d happen eventually. It was just a question of when.”

You hug him again, so overwhelmed with love. What a miracle, to be loved like this by so many brilliant people.

“We’ll tell everyone soon, I promise. We were thinking of making it a party, a whole celebration.”

“Of course. Just tell me when, and I’ll be there.”

He pinches your knee playfully, before making his way back to his drinks, smile still plastered across his face.

“Hey, Francisco?” you murmur, still aware of the volume of your voice.

“Yeah?” he turns, giving you his full attention.

“So, I know it’s not traditional, but, I mean, when have me and Will ever done traditional?” you both laugh, and you continue. “I was just thinking – and you don’t have to say yes… I’d love it if you did, but really, you don’t have to – “

“Spit it out, mi amor,” he teases gently.

“Will you be my best man?”

He stops in his tracks, suddenly serious, and you’re worried you’ve made a mistake. Then, he breaks out into a grin, practically running over to bear hug you again.

“Of course I will,” he confirms into your ear. “I’d love nothing more.”

“I love you,” you tell him earnestly.

“I love you too, hermosa. So much.”

Frankie kisses you on the forehead once, then again, and begins to pick up the drinks he’s made.

“They’re gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long. You know how they get,” he winks, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You sit in your happiness for a little while, just basking in the glow. You’ve never felt so at peace.

Will wanders into the kitchen, immediately coming over to stand in front of you. His warm palms find your hips, and he leans in to kiss you softly.

“Hi, sugar,” he murmurs against your mouth.

“Hi, handsome,” you mutter back.

“You okay? You disappeared,” he asks, fingers moving in warm circles on the bare skin of your waist.

“I’m good. So good,” you smile, kissing him again.

It’s then you realise what you’ve done. You broke the rule – don’t tell the boys.

“Will?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I have something I need to confess.”

He pulls away so he can see your face, and smiles at you gently, before putting the pieces together in his head.

“You told Frankie, didn’t you?” he asks, still smiling.

There’s a pause before you bare your truth.

“Yes. I’m sorry! He kind of figured it out himself, and he asked, and I didn’t have the heart to lie to him. He’s my best friend, he can see right through me at any given moment. I know I was the one who said we shouldn’t tell them and I know this makes me a hypocrite and I’m sorry – “

Will cuts you off - just like that day in his kitchen - by smashing his lips to yours.

“It’s okay. Sweetheart, it’s okay,” he reassures when you pull away.

“Really?”

“Yes. I promise.”

He rests his forehead against yours, and allows you to breathe him in. Then, he chuckles softly.

“What?” you ask.

“We’re idiots,” he replies.

“I mean, yes. But why?”

He chuckles again, clearly amused, before answering,

“I totally just told Benny and Santi while you were in here telling Frankie.”

You process the information, before bursting into a fit of giggles. He joins you, the both of you laughing like fools.

“You’re kidding!”

“I wish I was. Benny made a comment, said he’s kinda noticed that something has changed, and I just sort of confessed.”

You’re both laughing so hard your sides hurt. What are the chances? It all feels like fate. The two of you, together. The timing of the evening. It couldn’t have worked out any more perfect.

“We’re idiots,” you agree, throwing your arms around his neck. Will pulls you off the counter and spins you around, making you shriek. It’s the most beautiful déjà vu.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The two of you make your way back out to the deck. As you walk over to the boys at the campfire, you’re suddenly caught off guard by two of them rugby tackling you, the three of you barrelling into the ground with a thud. Benny and Santiago are crushing you beneath them, shouting as they do it.

“Congratulations!”

“Hell yeah, sweetheart!”

“How did you even keep this a secret for so long?”

“Yeah, when were you planning to tell us, huh?”

“Can’t believe you’re marrying my brother. Oh my god, we’re gonna be family!”

“The five of us are already family, Ben.”

“Yeah, but, like, legally. Brother and sister!”

Benny’s hair is in your mouth and Santiago’s knee is in your ribcage and your earring is caught in someone’s shirt and the grass is scratching your back and you can’t breathe. Will and Frankie are watching from a distance, chuckling. You wouldn’t change it for the world.

Tranquility.

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strawberrymilk-sunshine · 1 year

Text

Happily ever after

What does Idia's hair feel like. Does it feel like fire? How does it not burn anything? I have many questions about Idia's hair, but none of them will ever be answered. How sad.

Not proofread sorry!!!!

Warning(s): yandere/stalker Idia, fem reader, stockholm syndrome, implied pregnancy (at the very end)

You met a guy online recently. He calls himself Gloomy Samurai, he's cool and all, but he can be very unintentionally creepy sometimes. But you assumed you were misunderstanding him. After all, it is hard to understand tone over the internet...

But you were wrong about him.

He knew a lot about you. A lot more than you thought he knew. He knew your address, your age, the colour of your hair and eyes, despite you not telling him any of that. Oh, but of course he never let you know he knew that... no, you'd think he was a creep! Your interest in him would drop to zero, he'd get the bad end!

That's why he can't let you know. He'll get your good end for sure. After all, dating is just like a game... and he is very good at games.

gloomy_samurai: where do you live btw gloomy_samurai: nothing specific obviously gloomy_samurai: just like a general area

(Y/N): That sounds like something a ☆stalker☆ would ask

gloomy_samurai: ah seven gloomy_samurai: you're right gloomy_samurai: r.i.p. me i guess gloomy_samurai: i'm not stalking you

(Y/N): Ye I know (Y/N): Just messing with u (Y/N): As for where I live (Y/N): Queendom of Roses

gloomy_samurai: really?! gloomy_samurai: no way!! i'm on a vacation there rn!

(Y/N): Woah really? (Y/N): What a coincidence

gloomy_samurai: yeah lol gloomy_samurai: i doubt we're anywhere near each other tho gloomy_samurai: but it'd be cool if we were gloomy_samurai: it'd be nice to meet you in person

(Y/N): Well, maybe we can! (Y/N): Where abouts are you at?

Idia couldn't believe what he was reading. You, wanted to meet up with him! In real life! Sure, he's seen pictures of you on your social medias, it's a completely different experience to see you irl!!

Sure, it means he'll have to, you know, go outside, but whatever! We all make sacrifices for love!

He continued making his plans with you, knowing that soon you two would take your relationship to the next level.

You walked into the coffee shop, hoping to get yourself a breakfast wrap and a doughnut.

You sat down at one of the booth seats, with your newly aquired and much-needed breakfast. It was a nice day. Your wrap tasted good. It was raining outside, but not enough to ruin everything.

But then, someone sat down across from you. He had two cups of coffee, he was wearing a hoodie, his eyes were yellow, and his lips a vibrant blue.

"Hi, (Y/N)~!" He said.

"Do I... know you...?" You asked him.

"Heehee! Of course you do, (Y/N)! But I guess I've never shown you myself... whoops." He shrugged. "Ba bababa baaaa~! It's Gloomy Samurai!" He imitated some kind of video game reveal sound.

"Wait, really?!" You asked. "Wow, you're... different than I expected. N-not a bad different, obviously!"

"It's fine, it's fine, but uh... p-people are... staring at us..." He said, nervously looking around. "Oh seven, I-I shouldn't've done that stupid reveal sound...! Why did I think a bunch of normies wouldn't think that was weird? Dammit!"

"Just act natural, things'll be fine." You assured him.

"A-a-alright, i-if you insist..."

"So what's your name?" You aksed.

"Huh-?"

"I mean, I only know your username, and that's a bit strange to say out in public... y'know, just casually referring to you as Gloomy Samurai might raise some eyebrows." You mentioned. "People might think that's a bit... weird."

"Oh, yeah, I guess... uh, my name's... I-Idia." He said, looking away from you. "And I already know your name, since you use it as your username, which you should change by the way. Anyone could find out who you are with that. Rookie mistake."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to change it..."

"So you live here, huh? Maybe you could, uh... s-show me around, or something?" Idia blushed. His hair was mostly hidden in the hoodie he was wearing, but the bits you could see, you noticed the tips turn pink.

"Oh, sure! That sounds fun! A nice walk in the rain together while I show you around my hometown..."

He didn't need you to do that. He's been keeping track of you for a while. He knows everything about your hometown. But of course... he has to pretend that isn't true.

He's always thought your name was so cute. It would go so well with his last name... (Y/N) Shroud... how fitting! How adorable! He's thought of that more than a few times... the two of you getting married, having two children, having a cute little kitten, living a perfect happily ever after... yes, he's thought about it so much.

You had no idea he thought that, however. Idia was good at hiding it.

You had no idea that when Idia's 'vacation' was over, you would be returning home with him.

Idia was delighted. His life turned out exactly as he'd predicted!

The two of you have a five-year-old daughter, and a baby on the way. You also have an adorable little kitten!

Idia entered your room, closing the door behind him.

"I, uh... I-I got you dinner, darling...!"

You were chained to the bed, tears stained your face.

But the strange thing is...

Every passing day, you feel like you're beginning to actually fall in love with Idia.

#idia shroud #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst x reader #yandere idia shroud #yandere idia shroud x reader #yandere idia x reader #yandere idia

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soopersara · 8 months

Text

Glowing

After realizing her feelings for Zuko, Katara goes looking for romantic advice.

Read it on AO3

“I thought you said you weren’t going to laugh at me!”

“I’m not!” For nearly five seconds, Suki succeeded in holding her expression steady before a snort burst out of her, and she doubled over, consumed by giggles.

Scowling, Katara whacked her with a cushion. “A lot of help you are. I just need some advice about what I should say to him. I don’t need you making fun of me for having a crush.”

Despite an obvious effort to compose herself, Suki couldn’t seem to stop giggling. “I’m not making fun of you.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure you have some other great reason for laughing at me, then.”

“Oh, come on, Katara.” Suki sat up as straight as she could, shoulders still shaking with barely-suppressed laughter. “You can’t ask me how to figure out if Zuko likes you back and expect me not to laugh.” She wiped her eyes. “I always thought Sokka was supposed to be the oblivious one in your family, but even he saw this coming ages ago.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Katara. Everyone can tell that you like him. It’s been obvious for a while. I think the only person who doesn’t see it is Zuko.” At long last, Suki’s expression steadied. “And incidentally, he’s also the only person worse at hiding his feelings than you.”

Katara pressed her lips together. Sure, she’d had feelings for Zuko for a while now. It wasn’t entirely unbelievable that the others might have noticed it at some point. But when it came to Zuko, nothing seemed that clear. She had noticed her own feelings shifting one morning when he offered her a hand up after a particularly long sparring match, but she’d never noticed any change in the way he acted around her. Even now, when she couldn’t look too deep into his eyes without forgetting how to string words together, he was still just—Zuko.

“Oh, don’t give me that face. You must have noticed it.”

“I haven’t,” Katara insisted. “I mean—yes, we’re friends, and I’m pretty sure he likes spending time with me, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

Suki rolled her eyes. “First of all, the fact that he likes spending time with you is a big deal. If you weren’t around, I’m pretty sure that Zuko would be perfectly happy not to leave his office more than once every three days. And beyond that—you can’t honestly tell me that you’ve never seen the way he looks at you.”

That was an exaggeration. Right? It had to be. Katara talked to Zuko all the time, and she would have noticed if there was anything out of the ordinary in the way he looked at her.

“And how exactly does he look at me?” she asked.

For a few seconds, Suki just stared. “You’re being serious, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am. He’s always looked at me the same way. Ever since he found us at the Western Air Temple, he’s just been—him.” Katara hugged her knees tight to her chest. “I think I’m falling in love with my best friend, and I really can’t tell if his feelings have ever changed. Can you please just help me figure out what to say to him? I really don’t want to mess things up if he doesn’t see me that way.”

There was another pause, this one almost longer than the last. “Fine. I’ll give you some advice, but I’m not telling you what to say. I don’t need anyone blaming me if you chicken out.”

Katara scowled. “Thanks a lot for the confidence.”

Without acknowledging that comment, Suki leaned forward. “You need to start paying attention to how he acts with everyone else. The difference when you’re not around is ridiculous, and once you see that—”

“Wait a second. If I’m not around, how am I supposed to see how he acts?”

“I don’t know. Just—” Suki waved a hand in the air. “Spy on him. Sneak up on him if you have to. It’s not like he’ll ever get mad at you over something like that. My point is that as soon as you see how much he lights up around you, I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to figure the rest out on your own.”

⁂

This was starting to feel silly.

It wasn’t that Katara mistrusted Suki’s advice—though, admittedly, she’d found the idea of sneaking up on Zuko a little absurd at first. She could see the logic in the idea of it. If Zuko really did light up around her, his uncanny ability to recognize the sound of her footsteps meant that she wasn’t likely to see it herself. If he liked her enough that her mere presence was enough to change his whole demeanor, she would probably have to put in a fair amount of time and effort to catch him off guard.

The trouble was that now, when she’d made up her mind to at least try Suki’s idea, it was proving difficult to sneak up on him. Absurdly difficult. So difficult, in fact, that she’d begun to question whether this much effort could really be worthwhile. She liked him a lot. Of course she did. But if it was this hard to figure out whether or not he felt the same, maybe she would be better off if she accepted the fact that they would only ever be friends.

Maybe. But for now, at least, she’d gone a bit too far to back down without making herself feel even sillier than she did already. Because while she’d contented herself with meandering up behind Zuko while he was distracted yesterday, today, she’d gone a step further and stashed herself in the hollow space behind a tapestry outside of his council room. And as much as she might regret the desperation that had brought her to this point, she couldn’t just leave. Any moment now, the doors to the council room would open, and a dozen stuffy old Fire Nation noblemen would file out right in front of her.

The last thing she needed right now was to humiliate herself quite that thoroughly. It was one thing for Zuko’s council to think she was stubborn and unreasonable in her demands when she attended summit meetings. It was quite another to let them think that she made a habit of hiding behind the tapestries around the palace.

Katara leaned back against the wall and let out a long breath. On the bright side, while the tapestry she’d chosen was opaque enough that no one would see her from the hall, she could at least make out vague silhouettes from here. It probably wouldn’t be clear enough for her to make out anything significant in Zuko’s expression or mannerisms, but she could deal with that for now. As long as she could escape with her dignity mostly intact, she could worry about figuring out Zuko’s feelings later.

She waited in the darkened hollow for longer than she was proud of. Long enough that she would have had several good opportunities to creep back out and return to her room if she’d been brave enough. At long last, the door did open, though, and she watched the advisors file out one after another and another. Including Zuko, there should have been around ten people in the room, so she counted the figures as best she could as they passed by the tapestry. Sure enough, after she counted ten of them, the hall went quiet again.

Silently, she counted down the seconds until a minute passed, then another. Then, when she was absolutely confident that everyone was gone, Katara pushed the tapestry to the side and stepped into the corridor.

At almost the same instant, there was a startled gasp behind her, and a squeak burst out of her mouth. Clapping a hand over her mouth, she spun on the spot.

“Katara?” Zuko hastily dropped back out of his bending stance, and his expression shifted from shock to confusion to something between surprise and relief. “Um—what are you doing out here?”

There was certainly something that changed in his eyes when he realized that it was her, but Katara wasn’t willing to assume that was what Suki had been talking about. She had just burst out from behind a tapestry, after all. Zuko was probably more relieved to see that it was her and not a stranger or an advisor than anything else. It was certainly more relief than infatuation, at least.

Katara did her best to regain her composure. “I don’t suppose you would believe me if I said I was birdwatching. Would you?”

“Probably not,” he answered slowly. “There aren’t any windows in this hall, to start with. And I’m pretty sure I would have heard something if a bird got into the palace.”

“Right. I probably should have guessed that much.” She scuffed her palms against her thighs to wipe away the gathering dampness. “I might need a few minutes to come up with a better excuse.”

Though he still looked bemused and bewildered, the corners of Zuko’s mouth pulled upward. “Whatever you were doing, it looks like you’ve got some cobwebs stuck in your hair.”

Her hands flew up to her head. “I do? Oh, ew! Gross, gross, gross!”

Gently, he caught hold of her wrists. “It’s just one spot. Hold still and I’ll get it.”

He leaned in closer, and Katara froze. That small, soft smile playing across his lips was familiar, but something about it did feel different. Warmer, maybe. Or brighter, or—something. His fingertips brushed lightly over one of the narrow braids hanging by the side of her face and plucked a bit of fine, wispy spider silk out of her hair.

Maybe it was just the proximity. Or maybe Suki’s words were just too fresh in Katara’s mind, but when the usual fluttering in her chest started up again, there was another, newer sensation sitting alongside it.

“There. I guess the next time that the palace staff starts bothering me for things to do, I can have them clean the tapestries. I had no idea they were so full of cobwebs.”

“Neither did I,” she said, her voice scarcely rising above a whisper. Spirits, what was that feeling? The fluttering was beginning to fade, but if anything, she felt herself being drawn even closer to him. It was steadier, though. Calmer and stronger than anything else she’d felt for him before.

“So you weren’t birdwatching,” Zuko said. The amusement was obvious in his voice, but it, like everything else, was gentle. “Can I ask what you were doing, or is that a secret?”

She didn’t have to tell him the truth. She didn’t have to say anything at all, she knew that. Maybe it was just his proximity or the light in his eyes—she couldn’t be certain, but she spoke almost without thinking. “Actually, I was hoping to talk to you. But I knew that you were meeting with your advisors, and I didn’t want to talk to them, and—well, in hindsight, I probably could have found a better way to accomplish that.”

He snorted. “Honestly, I might have to steal your hiding spot someday. I like spiders a lot more than I like some of my advisors.” He turned, stepping back just far enough to give her space to start walking alongside him. “What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?”

Her face went hot, and she silently thanked the spirits that he wasn’t looking at her. “I was just wondering if you might want to have dinner with me. Tonight. Just the two of us.”

Zuko stopped walking. “Do you mean that? I mean—are you sure?”

There was such a tentative hope in his eyes that it took all her will to resist the urge to reach up and run her thumb along the lower rim of his scar. She smiled up at him instead. “I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t sure.”

“Oh.” His cheeks flushed scarlet, and he cleared his throat. “Okay. Then—yes. I’d like that. I’d really like that.”

Her heart skipped, and she felt her smile broaden involuntarily. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you around dinner time, then.”

His smile warmed until his eyes practically glowed with pure happiness. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“Maybe a late dinner time,” she amended hastily. “I have a feeling that I’ll have to wash some dust and cobwebs out of my hair before then.”

Zuko laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I can wait that long.” Then, smiling almost blindingly bright, he took a small step back. “I’ll see you later this evening.”

#zutara #fanfiction #zutara fanfiction #zuko #katara #soopersara's scribbles

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year

Text

Prey: Cold Waters

In which Jungkook dreams- of warmth, love, and the soft comfort of safety. The only issue? Louri never dream without reason.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, vomiting (briefly mentioned), blood (teeny tiny injury), protective!koo, dead dove do not eat, major angst, fluff

Story length: mid

All content can be found under the Tag #Prey

..........................................................................................

He's surrounded by white.

There's a certain smell around him, soft and gentle, covering him in a comfort he doesn't remember ever feeling. He's a Louri after all- raised to be bold and brave, not soft and vulnerable. His kind survived and thrived because they've embraced their instincts while moving forward with the course of time. But for all of the change and growth, there's been sacrifices;

Nurturing traditions like family and children have long become uninteresting and undesirable for Louri people. Seen as a hassle and burden, it's become a problem, a hindrance in career and sucess- resulting in biology changing to the point of conceiving a child being impossible without medical assistance, and less Louri passing the compatibility tests nowadays.

Even worse: more and more have been diagnosed as infertile.

Therefore, a lot of traditions have been lost to time- unseen for years and generations. Other things have become so rare they've just been completely forgotten- so when Jungkook walks around in the lands of dreams, he's unsure what exactly is going on.

All he knows is that he doesn't ever want to leave where he is.

Or does he? Isn't something missing?

There's a trace of your scent around him, but he doesn't know where you are. He can't see you, or anything really- all he knows is there's a weight in his arms, too small to be you.

"...kook? Hey, Jungkookie?"

He hears you call out to him, distant, but it's there. Looking around, he can't see past the fog surrounding him, thick clouds making it impossible to spot anything further away than an arms length. He wants to call your name- but he stays silent, lips sealed shut.

"hey, Jungkook?"

You're a little louder, but still not quite there. He feels like his body starts to weigh more again, as if he's growing aware of his limbs again, when the scene darkens and his consciousness returns.

His eyes flutter open, suddenly looking into your face, smiling softly at him, faint sound of traffic being heard from outside the opened window. The fog is gone, everything saturated in the colors of reality, familiar surroundings back again. "wow, you slept for ages." you giggle, before pecking his lips and leaving the bedroom. "I made you your favourite- I hope your stomachache has gotten better!" you call out, while he sits up in bed.

Did he.. Dream?

He's heard about dreams before, from a friend of Yoongi's, and he knows from you that humans dream fairly frequently, but he himself has never experienced it. It must've been what it was, but why did he dream? He should call Jin about it.

Because this has been the second time now.

"Huh? Where are you going?" You wonder, as Jungkook simply kisses the side of your neck, before he puts on his shoes to walk towards the door.

"Nothing, I just forgot about something. I'll be back as quick as I can though!" He calls out before hurrying out the door-

Leaving you confused.

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

Blood is taken. Tested. Results are read.

Seokjin checks them twice. Then once more. But there's nothing wrong with any of it. The results are clear, they're honestly textbook-worthy. They're exactly what one would expect them to look like in a situation like this.

Jin doesn't need to test you. There's no reason for it. Jungkook is a faithful mate, never even glancing into someone else's direction. And his blood, everything about him, shows the first signs of fatherhood.

He's changing, dreaming, because he's created a new life. His body is waiting, expecting, preparing.

And as soon as Jungkook is told the news, he's running out the room, barging into the bathroom close by, clinging onto the toilet as he heaves whatever leftovers he's still got in his stomach, before he somehow collects himself enough to splash some cold water in his face, trying to get himself together.

He's still in shock.

Jungkook hasn't ever seen himself like this.

The mirror shows a reflection of someone that looks like him- but strangely doesn't feel like it's him. Pupils blown wide, roots of his hair longer and unfamiliar in their deep black color, his face just as disbelieving as he himself. The splash of cold water did nothing to wake him up it seems.

A knock on the door makes him turn around- fearfully and more or less making him jump at the sudden sound, but Jin seems understanding as he sighs. "I know it's hard." he tells the younger Louri.

"Why is this happening to me?" Jungkook asks, voice trembling. "Why.. Us?" he almost whispers.

"I don't know." Seokjin sighs empathetically, a hand on the younger one's neck as a sign of comfort. "But I'll be with you until the end." he says, while Jungkook himself averts his gaze.

Unsure what's going to happen to the both of you now.

"She's going to die." Jungkook stampers quietly, sounding somewhat controlled, but he's not. "I'm going to loose her."

"We don't know that yet." Seokjin tries to comfort his friend. "There's not enough cases to make a generalization yet. Sure, there's never been a successful pregnancy with both chikd and mother surviving, but that doesn't mean it's impossible." He tries, and Jungkook just laughs, without any humor.

"You know her." He says lowly. "You know her body. She won't be able to handle it." He tells his friend. "I know that. You know it. She probably knows it, too." He scoffs, closing his eyes as he runs his hands over his face. "What do I do now?" He asks no one in particular.

There's not much.

He can either go through with it, or terminate it right now. There's no third option, no safer way, no better idea that could let him keep both you and his unborn child.

"You'll need to inform her." Jin says. "Or I can do it, if you'd like." He mumbles, but Jungkook shakes his head.

"I'll do it." He almost whispers. "Its my fault. I don't.. I didn't know it would happen, how did it even happen?!" He's now becoming more and more frantic. "I'm not on any hormones, no medication, how in the name of the gods did this even happen in the first place?!" He barks out. "Are you absolutely sure?" He presses, and Seokjin nods.

"It has to be." He says. "I can give you a testing kit for her to do at home, but I'm certain that she's pregnant." He says, and it seems like Jungkook falters a little at the word.

It's like it's suddenly real.

"What are we going to do?"

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"I.. can you.. seokjin gave me this." Jungkook says, pale as a ghost. "There's.. pictures under the instructions. I'd.. like you to do this." He says, and you take the small box from his shaking hand, a bit nervous now.

"Is everything alright?" You wonder. "You're worrying me a little."

He wants to say that you shouldn't. That you don't have to. But he can't lie.

You wordlessly walk into the bathroom, following the instructions before you pinch the tip of your finger for a drop of blood to be picked up by what looks like a piece of paper at the end of a plastic tester, before you do the more intimate part of it.

You've realized what this is already.

You're not sure what to think of it. In a way, you're not scared, just worried for Jungkook. He seemed terrified, and you're not really sure what to make of it. You know his fears- but maybe he just doesn't want a child with you? Even though you've talked about it, there's still doubts in the back of your head.

Your phone vibrates, the timer has stopped.

You pick up the small plastic tester.

A circle is shown. You're actually creating a tiny little life inside you right now.

Walking out of the small room, you wordlessly place the object on the kitchen counter where Jungkook has placed his head down, waiting. It snaps up at the noise, at the sight, and his eyes stare for a good minute or so, before he dares to pick it up.

"What.. do we do now?" You wonder quietly, scared to cut through the silence. At the sound of your voice, he looks over at you, deep in thought, before his gaze drops down to your stomach.

"I can't loose you." He says, the first words he's said since you've returned from the thest. "I can't."

"But you won't?" You say, unsure. "Jin said he'll help us." You say, but he doesn't seem convinced at all, still staring. "Do you.. not want it?" You ask quietly, and for a moment, there's no reaction from him, no movement at all, before he gently picks up up and sits you on the kitchen counter. He's now face to face with you, before he wraps his arms around your middle, face resting against your abdomen.

"Of course I want it." He quietly says. "But I want you too."

"You have me." You say, carefully running your hand over his shoulder.

"Who knows for how long." He mumbles.

"Well just have to see, I guess." You shrug.

"How can you be this calm about this?" He whines almost into your clothes, arms tightening a bit.

"I don't know." You say. "Seokjin told me that I knownmy body best. And right now, I feel perfectly fine. A bit hungry maybe, but that's besides the point." You giggle, trying to lift the mood a little. "I've got you by my side, and him for whenever I've got questions or I need help. I'll be fine." You say.

"And if you're not?" He quietly worries. "If you're dying?"

"I won't." You say. "I can't."

"You will." He fights back.

"No, Jungkook, you don't understand." You say, pushing him a bit so he looks at you with his already red rimmed, glossy eyes. "Even if I don't make it, there's always gonna be a part of me with you." You explain. "Whenever you'll look at them-" you look down at your stomach, "-I'll be there too."

And at that he cries.

Because he doesn't just want to keep a piece of you. But everything.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"Absolutely amazing." Seokjin says, putting his devices away before looking at you with a smile. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Slightly elevated levels here and there, but that's simply to aid the growing fetus. It's remarkable." He says.

"Well.. I mean, nothing is really going on yet." You giggle. "Its still tiny, I mean. It'll probably take a while until, you know, you'll notice anything." You shrug, but Seokjin shakes his head.

"Not quite." He says, typing some things in. "Your body is already adapting to everything. It's working hard at providing optimal conditions for the child, but you're physically absolutely not showing any signs of lower energy or fatigue. That's really out of the ordinary." He explains. "Humans really are quite different from us."

"So she's doing good?" Jungkook anxiously asks from the back. "Nothings wrong yet?"

"Nothing at all. Or have you noticed anything odd?" Jin asks you, but you shake your head.

"I'm a bit hot and cold sometimes, and a little grumpy in the mornings, but I don't feel sick at all or anything." You offer.

"Slightly elevated temperature is normal." The doctor immediately tells the fidgeting Lourie behind him, waving him off. "And like I said, you know yourself best. Rest when you need it, exercise if you'd like. Just nothing too exhausting."

"She's absolutely not exercising." Jungkook answers strongly, walking towards you to help you down from the elevated examination bed. "I'll bring her back next week for another checkup."

"Do I really need to be monitored this much?" You complain a little.

"To be quite honest, yes." Jin somberly explains. "I'll come over though. There's no need to come here every time. Only for specifics."

You help Jin file some information, before you're ready to walk out the room. "Oh, eh, Jin?" You ask, and he hums a reply to let you know his attention is on you. "When do.. you know, when can we find out the gender?" You wonder, and Jungkook looks down at you.

"I'll tell you." He says. "As soon as I know, I'll tell you."

"Louri can sense a child's gender at a certain point in its development inside the womb." Jin explains walking closer. "As a father, he's going through changes as well. Depending on how these will present themselves, we will know." He explains a bit more in depth, making you nod, before you walk out.

"You're still so calm about this." Jungkook wonders as he walks home with you. "You don't seem worried at all."

"I already told you, I'm not." You say. "Theres no reason to be. It wouldn't change anything for the better."

He has to agree with you on that. Worrying might only bring more trouble for you. So maybe, he should stop that as well- or at least tone it down a bit, and embrace the changes to come for the time being. He will deal with any problems once they're there.

He straightens his posture a bit suddenly, steps more sure now as his hand holds yours a bit tighter.

He will be the best mate. The best partner. The best friend.

And the best father.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #alien!jungkook #alien jungkook #prey au

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the-gentleman-pining · 7 months

Text

Decided to rewatch OFMD S2 eps 1-3 and actually jot down my thoughts as I go! Oh what fun! Ngl this is mostly for me babes but if you enjoy it that's neat ❤️

Episode 1: Impossible Birds

Stede bearded in his dream could just be playing to swashbuckling archetypes for funsies, but is it some lingering wish that he was more masculine?

Con O'Neil truly graceful about it with the sword huh

"WHERE IS HE. WHERE'S ED?" Stede seeing Izzy as the thing that is keeping Ed from him when he's the one that left lol ok

His idealised version of Ed doesn't hold him accountable either. My mans doesn't want to face what he did at all!!

His first words to Ed in his letter are reassuring him that the crew are safe, as if he doesn't remember that Ed marooned them and left them for dead on purpose??

I know it's meant to be funny but Jackie was a bit of a sex pest toward Swede at first and the power dynamic was a bit 🫤 Glad he was into it in the end!

WHY DOES WEE JOHN SLAM THE HEAD OF THE ONE WHO GOT STABBED INTO THE TABLE INSTEAD OF THE ONE WHO STABBED THEM?? 😂

Stede truly is unphased by people being assholes to him and I just,,, respect it.

Ricky your vibes are strange and unsettling

Who in their right mind would have an ocean wedding in the golden age of piracy?? I know they probs didn't know it was the golden age of piracy while they were in it but STILL

Ed looks so dead behind the eyes 😭 Just going through the motions eh buddy?

Dressed up like the book Blackbeard I see. God he's trying so hard to inhabit this character.

I would die for Archie. Truly the himbo we need in these depressing angst riddled times.

Jim asking someone else how they're bottling things up?? Hello?? Who are you and what have you done with Jim?? Aren't you the bottling up Master? Olu bewitched you too good and now you've unlocked Feelings 😔

"He's actually a good guy" Stede babygirl did we actually forget the marooning???

I have so much I could say about how Izzy and Blackbeard's relationship has deteriorated hhhhh,,,, Izzy is a problem child but I'm so glad the story is crashing towards his character actually growing and changing. In season 1 he at least got the crumbs Ed would throw him like "I need you here", now he's only getting abuse and maybe he's throwing himself at it because he recognises he had a part to play in reaching this point and believes he deserves it.

Fang's delivery on "how you doing Izzy" will keep me warm and fed all winter. Masterclass in approaching someone, truly tender and genuine but not too pressuring. God.

That second "unhand me" hhh the panic of realising you're going to start crying if the situation continues

Con is gonna rip my heart out and eat it this season if I'm not careful

Labour exploitation Jackie what a girlboss x

Why does "you'll be having a lot of breakfastseses together" sound so ominous though 😭 Smeagol Jackie my worstie...

Stede doing Blackbeard Voice is adorable but damn he really doesn't believe that he made Ed's life better. Like how??? Why doesn't Stede equate happiness with better? Ed was explicitly happier around you ya dingus!

Swede deserves his married bliss so much. The crew can be so mean to him!!

"What am I to you" and "I have... love for you" are said so softly I'm gonna be sick,, Izzy you fucked it by wrestling this man into this particular coping mechanism and your tenderness is coming wayyyy too late. Heartbreaking tbh cause the guy didn't know how else to help Ed and now he's realising it could have been different. Sick and twisted little dynamic I'm eating it like good soup.

Definitely supposed to be taken that Izzy didn't realise "talk it through" was a Stedeism as he said it but godddd you idiot dude

Once again god bless you Archie I'd die for you

Fang I want to rescue you hhhhhh my hot topic fashionista must be so dehydrated from all these tears!!!

No way in hell Ed expected anything else out of Izzy's mouth than something about Stede, but god I wish the guy had just payed attention to Frenchie shaking his head. The catharsis of saying the quiet part out loud wasn't worth your leg, man.

"Start by cleaning up that mess"... yeah we def see Ed is killing people himself again but outsourcing the Big Job on Izzy makes sense. He's also exactly the kind of self sabotager atm that would know Frenchie won't do it, and he's looking for reasons to Be Worse.

Indigo heist my beloved. Fuck those hammies up!! I love how loud Black Pete was omg 😂

Oh fuck off Ricky I know you're a S1 Stede mirror but you're doing it detestably

Roach why is your instinct to immediately put the blue dirt on your face darling

Zheng Yi Sao completely unphased by Jackie is giving me so much delight

Sexy Dutchman 😭😂 Jackie never change

I love that Zheng Yi Sao is taking the whole crew on just to have her lil Olu moment, get it girl

TENDER JIM IM SO HAPPY FOR THEM THEY'VE COME SO FAR. I LOVE THEIR BIG SMILE 😭 (also Archie is so wholesome what is she DOING here???)

Ed oh my god you're not alright at ALL

Frenchie's quiet "sounds like a plan" is just so... painful. The acting this season is off the charts.

When Roach asked if they were in soup now I thought he was referring to the ocean as soup I'm an idiot 😭

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #our flag means death #ofmd season 2 spoilers #ofmd season 2 #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 spoilers #izzy hands #stede bonnet #edward teach

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frostfairysteve · 1 year

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I'm having a lot of fun with @thefreakandthehair's Spicy Six Fic Challenge, and while I'm not completely finished yet, I do have something. I'll post the complete thing to AO3 once I'm done.

My prompt is "All these lights, and not a single one is flickering. That's a nice change of pace, huh?" but it does not actually show up in this part. Also, I went for angst with a happy ending, so this part is all angst. Steve-centric, of course.

embraced by the darkness (waiting for the lights) (part 1)

The holiday season had snuck up on all of them. With the gates, and with Max, time had just passed differently. Trying to think back, Steve can only remember volunteering, shifts at Family Video, and making sure everyone around him was okay. He’s had a few calls with his mum, but his parents hadn’t wanted to return to Hawkins considering everything. Not that Steve has celebrated Christmas with them in years; they stopped bringing him with them once he aged out of being his mum’s cute angelic child, aged out of living up to his dad’s expectations. The last time he got close to celebrating Christmas with anyone was when he and Nancy were dating and he spent as much time as possible in her home, but even then he had spent Christmas Day alone.

Knowing that this year would be no different, Steve had been the first to offer to take Lucas’ place in the hospital; allowing him to take a break and celebrate with his family. It was better to be here with Max than be home alone, although there’s not a lot to do other than staring at the walls; white was never a colour he had an opinion on but after spending most of the year in and out of Max’s hospital room, Steve has grown to hate it. The kids' drawings help break up the monotony of the room, and it helps cheer him up to think about them. Even if the paper underneath their drawings remains white.

He has never felt right drawing anything to add to the collection. He loves Max like a little sister, and except for Lucas and El, he has spent the most hours by her bedside, but he’ll always be unsure of his place in other people’s lives.

He thought his parents would always love and care for him, but then they started leaving him alone, they started forgetting about him, and when he no longer had the illusion of a promising future to hide behind, his dad cut him off. The relationship he’s trying to repair with his mum is fragile at best.

And he had thought Nancy loved him but that turned out to be bullshit, and now he still doesn’t know how to be her friend. He doesn’t know how to be Jonathan’s friend either and hasn’t really tried, to be fair. Steve can’t truly look at them without remembering who he was in high school, feels like they’ll always see the asshole that let things happen. He used to be so passive about everything.

He still feels passive sometimes, surrounded by kids so much smarter than him. All he’s good for is being another body between them and the monsters; he knows he can make anything a weapon, knows he can kill a demo-whatever. The problem is when the monster is human and he has to hold back; when he has to be a shield and not a weapon. Some nights, he feels like he has Barb’s blood on his hands. Billy’s too, for what his death did to Max.

During the past months, he has woken up thinking it was Max's or Eddie’s blood. Thinking he could have saved them if he was smarter, faster, better.

He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he actually were responsible for another person’s death; if he tried to protect and instead caused irrecoverable harm.

With a shaky exhale, he leans back in the hospital chair. It’s not very comfortable, but none of them has ever complained. Trying to find a position that won’t kill his back gives him something to think about, something to focus on that won’t make him spiral. The last thing he needs is to have an anxiety attack next to Max; she would never let him live it down if she knew.

Maybe it would be worth it if it would finally force her awake, if seeing Steve being pathetic was the last push she needed to open her eyes.

He needs to redirect his thoughts somehow. Needs a distraction that won’t push him further towards a spiral. Music is out of the question; none of them has been able to listen to Kate Bush in the same way, and any song now carries the possibility of being life or death for someone. Or maybe Steve is the only one to think that; the others are still happy to fight over control of the radio when he drives them around, and he gets frequent updates on how Corroded Coffin is doing. At least music wasn’t taken from any of them.

There’s something dark about how he feels better when he’s the only one that suffers. Steve would carry all their pain on his shoulders if he only could. Would take all their nightmares and flashbacks and triggers so that they can smile and laugh and continue to be kids. He would take the pain from Robin, and Nancy and Jonathan, and Eddie too. From Joyce and Hopper and Murray and anyone else that has gotten involved.

Steve sometimes thinks he would shoulder the pain of the whole world if it allowed them to be done with the Upside Down. Thinks that it would be worth it if everyone stopped having to grow up so fast.

Thinking about growing up does remind him of the book he brought; the book he always brings. It’s not every time that he reads from it, but it feels like one of those days that need a fairytale to brighten things up. It will give him something to do at least.

The book of fairytales is old, something his mum used to read him to sleep with before his dad argued that he was too old for stories. She let him keep it, a secret between the two of them, a keepsake from when she was a mother and not a distant figure. It’s one of Steve’s few possessions that mean something to him; he can recite each story verbatim if asked, but he prefers having the comforting weight of the book resting in his lap, prefers reading the words from the worn pages.

He flips through the pages to the story of the little mermaid and begins to read, softly enough that only Max can hear him.

Steve wishes that he could find a sea witch now; he, too, would cut off all his hair for his sister to live. Would throw away the dagger too; would turn into seafoam for her. And if not seafoam, a spirit of air.

Maybe Max is a spirit of air, looking down at him now. But that would mean that they’ve lost her—

The heart monitor provides a comforting background noise as he continues to read, doing his best to not stumble over the words that he knows by heart. For now, Max is alive, for now, he can focus on reading for her, for now, he can hope that the fairytale reaches her, wherever she is.

He must have dozed off at some point for the next thing he knows a nurse is gently shaking him awake. There’s a paper cup of coffee getting pressed into his hands, although it’s probably much too late for caffeine. Max’s room doesn’t have a clock on their insistence and the dark comes early these days, but he thinks it should be the end of visiting hours if he’s getting woken up. Not that visiting hours always matter; especially the first few months had found them in and out of the hospital at all hours of the day.

“You should head on home, son. There’s snow coming.” the nurse tells him, voice just barely loud enough to be heard with his decreased hearing. Steve thinks he mumbles something coherent in response since they leave after making sure he won’t drop the cup.

The coffee is strong, but the bitter taste helps him come back to consciousness. Sleep comes rarely to him, but it always drags him down deep when it does. He has taken to keeping the nail bat by his bed; needs a weapon close at hand when waking up takes too long. Not like the weeks after something has just happened and any noise has him sitting up, ready for a fight.

If he’s getting less or more sleep now, Steve can’t tell. He gets enough that no one notices, enough for him to function, and that’s enough. It has to be.

Once he’s gotten the coffee down, Steve closes the book that thankfully hadn’t fallen to the floor while he slept, and puts it in his bag before pushing himself up from the chair. Nothing has changed with Max since he last looked at her; the rhythm of the heart monitor is the same. He takes a moment to make sure that she’s tucked in comfortably and that there’s no hair on her face, before saying goodbye with a kiss on her forehead— a last bit of warmth for the road.

Sitting in his car outside the hospital, Steve takes a moment to decide where to go. He has been told by Claudia more than once that he’s always welcome to spend time with her and Dustin, no matter the time of day, and Robin has promised to keep a chair free for him if he changed his mind about spending Christmas with her. Even Joyce had sent an invitation through Hopper, and Mrs Sinclair had promised him leftovers if he came by that evening.

Steve doesn’t feel right about intruding on any of them. The one time he tried taking up an invitation, he had sat outside in his car for twenty minutes, stuck in an anxiety spiral, before he drove home. It’s easier for everyone if he just skips the middle step, so there was really only one answer.

He gets home before the snow, but just barely. The first flakes are falling as he hurries from his car to the door, not dressed for the cold. His gloves and scarves have ended up with the others who needed them more; he can make do by zipping his jacket the whole way up and sticking his hands underneath his armpits. And he can surely find another pair of gloves and another scarf if he goes through his parents' things; they have left a lot of clothes behind, and they fit him better every year.

The house is warm in temperature only, and he’s once more thankful that his dad hasn’t thought to pause the bills. His parents' unreliable schedule is good for one thing only; never knowing when they will be home means that the house is always in working order. The downside, of course, is that Steve rarely feels comfortable inviting anyone over; not knowing if his parents will come home or if he’ll have enough time to clean up before they do… He always finds himself getting too worked up to truly relax.

He used to smoke, but then the Russians… it’s not the same kind of drug, but Steve can't stand not being in control of himself. Alcohol is out of the question for the same reason, and partly because he remembers when Nancy got drunk and has felt uncomfortable around intoxicated people ever since, always wondering if they’re going to blow up at him.

Steve wants to be of help, finds a purpose in being useful, in being able to love and be loved in return. To have all that thrown back at him, having it called bullshit… Nancy Wheeler has changed him in many ways, only a handful of them good.

When he shivers, it’s more due to his thoughts than the temperature. Still, he keeps his jacket on even after he has put away his bag and taken off his shoes. Exhaustion has come over him like a heavy blanket now that he’s home, and Steve wants nothing more than to go to bed. He does take a moment to look towards the kitchen, to try to remember when he last ate something, but he doesn’t think he would be able to keep anything down. The anxiety that he had felt in the hospital is worming its way through his veins now, and he wants to be in the safety of his bedroom before it overcomes him.

It doesn’t take long to get there, taking the stairs two steps at a time. He has long since learned how to find his way around the house in the dark, how to do so quietly, and fast. His room is the furthest to the left; turn left once up the stairs, and then to the left again. With his parents' room being the furthest to the right on the first floor, he doesn’t have to be all that quiet, but Steve has always been more anxious than anyone would think.

He would lock the door behind him, but there isn’t one. He can only hope that he remembered to lock the front door; not that a locked door can stop the monsters. Steve glances towards the wall at the thought and immediately glances away; he’s not bleeding; the gates aren’t completely closed even after all these months but they’re too small in size for anything to come through; he’s safe, and he has his bat.

He knows he’s safe, so why is he unable to breathe?

His jacket feels constricting and he cannot get it off soon enough. His throat aches and Steve moves to get out of his sweater as soon as the jacket has fallen to the floor. He needs to breathe, he needs to get everything off, he needs to, needs to, needs to—

Warm tears are making their way down his cheeks as Steve collapses to his knees. The nail bat is too far away, but he doesn’t know what he would use it for. It doesn’t stop him from crawling towards it, wanting the comfort of the wood in his hand. He has years of practice in how to hug it close without hurting himself on the nails.

If he could only breathe properly, he would be singing. There is one song that still brings him comfort, but only when his mind is playing tricks on him. It’s the song, the one that would save him from Vecna. But Steve is almost hyperventilating when he finally gets his hands on the bat; singing would only make things worse. He could force himself if he heard a clock, but much like the hospital room, all clocks are removed from the house.

Even after months of not seeing his parents, it took until he almost collapsed from a lack of sleep and anxiety before Steve removed them. He still doesn’t know how to explain if his parents come home.

Especially not their prized grandfather clock. It’s safely put away in their bedroom, the pendulum having been removed to stop the chiming. He didn’t dare put it in the garage; couldn’t pack it away in a box like he did all the other clocks.

Thinking about clocks - thinking about his parents - does nothing to help his breathing. Steve is fully hyperventilating, the bat hugged close like it’s a stuffed bear. The tears falling down his cheeks feel endless, and snot has started to run down his nose. His lips are salty when he licks them.

If he were a braver man, Steve would call someone. But everything inside him screams at the concept of willingly showing weakness, especially months after everything happened. He hasn’t had to reassure Robin or Dustin or Lucas over the phone since before the school year started.

He spent the anniversary of the mall burning - of the Russians - with Robin, but after that… everyone else just seemed okay.

Steve could barely get out of bed for all of November; couldn’t do anything at all for Thanksgiving.

The tears come harder at that; at the thought that he’s the only one still suffering. His scars give phantom pain as he curls his torso inwards; trying to make himself small while still hugging the bat close. His whole body shakes with his sobs now, they almost get stuck in his throat as he struggles to get any air.

Steve is back with the vines, is back with the bats, is back with the Russians and the demodogs and the demogorgon in Byers house.

And then the doorbell rings, and he’s in his bedroom, is half-naked on the floor with nails dangerously close to digging into his stomach.

The doorbell rings again and the sound echoing through the house shocks him so badly that he chokes on a sob, almost coughing his lungs out as he tries to get himself in control. Whoever is waiting at the door can’t see him like this; can’t see him as anything else but the fighter, the protector, the shield.

He’s tempted to hide in his room until they leave, but he would never; what if it’s the kids, what if something has happened, what if they need him— Steve’s mind is racing with scenarios - each worse than the one before - as he scrambles to get himself together. The bat gets dropped to the floor, and scratches his stomach in his haste, but he can’t feel it as he covers it up with the sweater. He knows he got the sweater on backwards, but that doesn’t matter if something is wrong.

Steve is trying to scrub his face of all traces of tears as he jogs down the stairs, the doorbell ringing a third and then a fourth time in the background. He knows he doesn’t succeed, knows that his eyes must be puffy and red, knows that there’s snot on his sleeves now, and that his hair is in disarray from where he must have been pulling on it in a useless attempt to ground himself. He knows that he must look like a mess and that he has no explanation that he’s willing to give, but hopefully whoever’s at the door has more important things to worry about than him. Most things are more important than him.

His hands are shaking as he tries to get the front door open; he unlocks it and then locks it again, not able to remember which direction is which as his thoughts fly in hundred directions at once. He’s out of breath when he finally gets it open - from the panic attack that he can still feel, from trying to get presentable and down the stairs as fast as possible - but he plasters a shaky smile on his lips in hope of covering it up.

The smile gets slightly more real but no less shaky when the door has opened enough to reveal Gareth and Eddie, the latter looking ready to press the doorbell a fifth time.

#steve harrington #my fiction library #lexswinterficchallenge #this didn't have a title until just now which. i never do that. i'm a title first kind of person #please tell me if you cried

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laniuchiha7 · 1 year

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To He, Who Hung the Stars: Ch 1

Flower Festival

SasuSakuBlankPeriod2023

Petals float through the air, carrying their soft scent and bringing the joy of summer with them. Enthusiastic shouts and yells from children running through the designated paths of the rolling hills of Hanagakure, as the sun shines down, parents chasing behind to ensure they behave are close to follow, causing Sakura to let out a light laugh at the sight. Wearing an emerald green yukata designed with blooming blossoms that match her namesake, she wanders through the people in search for her companion.

“Excuse me, Miss?” She turns to find a young man, likely around the same age as her, standing there with his hands behind his back, possibly holding something she can’t see. Bright blue eyes shift between her and the dirt bath, cheeks flushed but from what she’s not too sure. It is a hot day so it could easily be from heat exhaustion, making her worry for his well being.

“Yes?” Sakura says in return, wishing she had her bag which holds her water canteen so she could give it to him.

“I – um,” he stutters as she tilts her head to the side. “I wanted to give –” The man stops speaking, now glancing over her shoulder and eyes widening in response. His face somehow grows more red. “Oh…I didn’t realize. My apologies,” he bows, then turns around before returning to his friends. Sakura vaguely notices the item he was holding to be a red lily.

Out of curiosity she shifts her attention and looks over her shoulder to find what he has seen, however she notices her friend standing a few paces away. Sakura’s expression lights up upon seeing him, lips curving into a warm smile and the pitter patter in her chest increasing tenfold watching the wind cause his raven locks to sway. There’s a certain level of annoyance written in his features, a sight she’s no stranger to, but can’t help wondering about the cause, however she doesn’t have much time to dwell about it when mere seconds later it shifts back to his neutral look of indifference.

It had been his idea to come here, mentioning that someone suggested he see the sight which made the Land of Flowers famous at some point, although she ponders if he hadn’t considered the overwhelming crowd of other travelers which would also be present.

Striding over to him, she says, “there’s a lot of people here, huh? Do you want to find a more private spot?” Once she receives a nod they make their way up the path.

Traveling with Sasuke has been a learning experience of sorts, getting to know him again after spending a chunk of their adolescent years apart. Picking up on his silent language, the subtle changes in his facial expressions and posture – how his shoulders tense and relax, the soft look in his eyes versus when he’s on guard, how he’ll loom closer to her when they’re traveling through a packed area – along with the meaning hidden beneath some of actions.

He’s always been a man of few words, even back in their academy days, yet very methodical and deliberate in what he does – albeit not always the most rational as Saske does tend to jump from one extreme to the next, there’s at least some logic behind his reasoning.

Sakura swears she’s noticed his visual prowess come to life occasionally during their journey, when there’s no danger present, as if he’s taking a quick snapshot of that moment; such as when she first came out of their room at the inn wearing her yukata.

They reach the top of the hill, where no one else seems to be, turning back around to see all the people frolicking with their friends and families. Watching them with amusement, Sakura turns to her companion to find the corners of his mouth curved ever so slightly up, making her cheeks heat up.

“Thank you, Sasuke-kun,” she says, her eyes lowering a bit but she can feel his gaze on her. “For bringing me here, and inviting me on this journey. These last few months with you have made me really happy!” Sakura beams brightly at him.

Not expecting a response from him, she goes back to observing the crowd, however there’s a new tension in between them now. She said it because it’s true; Sakura is grateful Sasuke asked her to join him and has relished their trip thus far. Since rising in ranks at the hospital and opening the Children’s Mental Health Clinic, the amount of missions she’s gone on has dwindled to almost none, there’s no other way for her to travel or leisurely see the world aside from now.

Sakura doesn’t know why he asked her but doesn’t seem to be bothered by her presence, she might go as far to say he enjoys having her around – they are friends after all, that much she’s confident in. Practically aware of the tentative itinerary Sasuke has for them, some spots he wants to visit when they get to those locations, he consistently consults her opinion for where to go next. Of course they have their disagreements from time to time but never once has he made her feel unwelcome.

There’s a certain air around Sasuke she’s come to realize as they continue together, how calm and much more free he seems compared to when he’s in Konoha. It brings a slight pang to her chest, knowing where they grew up will never be home for him, yet can’t fault him either. She’s still unaware of the full story of what happened to his family, only knowing bits and pieces she heard from Kakashi and Naruto, if Sasuke wants to tell her eventually then she’ll listen and won’t breach the subject until he chooses. When she inevitably returns to their village, will Sasuke choose to stay and put down roots or will he set off on another journey? There’s no knowing until the time comes, so for now she’ll savor the time they spend in each other’s company.

His hand brushes hers and Sakura is sure it’s accidental however he doesn’t pull away. Almost hesitantly she feels Sasuke interlock his fingers with hers, tightening his grip a little to convey his intention of doing this.

“Sakura,” he says, causing her to look at him. “I feel the same.” It’s unclear if his words were meant to be a confession, at least in the way her heart hopes, or if he’s simply sharing his appreciation to have someone with him on this trip, but the tender way Sasuke gazes at her and the delicate tone of his voice tells her all she needs to know.

Sakura returns his gesture, gently squeezing his hand as her response, tilting the edges of her lips up.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44478805/chapters/111876142

#sasusaku #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #sasuke uchiha #sakura uchiha #blank period #ssblankperiodweek #ssblankperiod2023 #canon compliant #fanfic

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lovevalley45 · 6 months

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introvert solidarity

a/n: got in my feels abt behrad 1.0 as one does n remembered this fic i wrote. literally over a year ago. and never actually posted. but it's funny and cute, and if you haven't read any of my other behrad 1.0 fic, you should.

Some days, Spooner felt like the only rational one on the Waverider.

Well, scratch that. A lot of days, she felt like that. But today the feeling was especially strong.

It had started with some totem nonsense. She wouldn't pretend she knew exactly every loophole the Tarazis could squeeze out of their family heirloom, but they had stumbled upon a realization: if there was a Zari from an alternate timeline in there, then surely there was the Behrad from that timeline in there too.

The Legends took the news excitedly and as usual, took things overboard. Which meant that within five seconds the now-dubbed Behrad 1.0 coming out of the totem, they had broken the man by trying to go in for the group hug.

She had to admit, the team realizing they'd fucked up by just being their usual touchy selves was a little amusing. Spooner, however, got tired of their tryhard energy pretty quick and slipped off to the lab.

That was where she had been keeping herself busy and working on her guns when the door slid open. She glanced up as Behrad 1.0 hurried inside, glancing out the glass window of the lab.

She nearly said something, but it only took a second for her to pick up on a whole load of adrenaline pumping and stress. He didn't seem afraid, like he was running from the team. But she could guess that they were probably a tad overwhelming out there.

Spooner set her gun down on the metal table, catching his attention. When he turned to her, the weirdness of him being just a few years younger than the Behrad she knew hit her all over again. She'd never really thought of him as that young before, though she was probably closer in age to his older sister. But she guessed folks stopped aging in the totem, because it was uncanny. "Sorry. I didn't know you were here."

"Hiding from them too?" she asked him.

"I'm not- Yeah, I'm hiding from them," Behrad answered. He pushed away from the door, peering over her shoulder. "Whatcha working on?"

"Just my gun." Spooner patted the barrel proudly. "Made them myself."

"Cool," he said. "I'm not a really big fan of guns, if I'm being honest." He raised a hand to his chest, making her realize she'd never exactly learned how this version of Behrad died.

"Well, some things don't change." She turned around to face him. "Other than being all in your face, how's the team been treating you so far?"

He went over to one of the chairs, plopping down. "Are they always so... tiring?"

Spooner chuckled. "Yeah, I'm still not used to it either."

"My siblings told me lots of stories about their shenanigans, but they certainly didn't warn me about this." Behrad threw up his hands. "All they said is that they're a bunch of lovable losers, not lovable losers who try to cling to you like a barnacle."

She knew Zari 1.0 was still out there, probably lecturing the others about not being all in her brother's face. She didn't know what she'd been expecting when this Behrad popped out, but she had to say, it was a little amusing that he seemed to share her dry humor unlike the chill, bro nature of the one she knew. "At least you got a warm welcome. I was introduced to them by getting abducted."

"How did they abduct you?" he asked with a laugh.

"Uh, well the other you and another Legend who isn't around any more broke into my property and then the others came and scooped me up," Spooner told him. "Fun stuff."

"From what my sister - the one from my timeline - told me, they seem to have a knack for that kind of stuff."

"Guess there's worse things than almost being smothered with affection, huh?" she asked.

Behrad smiled. "Yeah, there are."

The door to the lab slid open again as Zari came in, Sara in tow. "Oh, there you are."

"What, did you think I'd get lost?" he asked.

"Honestly, I thought you just went back into the totem," she told him.

"Nah, we were just hanging out," Spooner said.

Zari turned to her in surprise. "Oh."

Nate and Gary appeared in the window of the lab, grins on their faces. Spooner didn't need her powers to see the fear on Behrad's face from their enthusiasm.

"Ava's making dinner," Sara said. "You two coming?"

Behrad glanced over at her, as if waiting for her answer.

"Sure, why not?" Spooner asked. "What's on the menu?"

"Uh, I think it's turkey burgers," Sara told them.

"Ugh," she said. "They better not be dry."

"B?" Zari asked. "Are you gonna skip out on dinner?"

"Nah, I'll come," Behrad said. "I just needed a moment."

As he followed Sara out of the lab, Zari turned to Spooner.

"What?" she asked her.

"Nothing," Zari said. "Thanks for not ratting him out."

"I ain't a snitch." Spooner put her gun back in its holster. "Besides, y'all can be a lot. I don't blame him for hiding out."

"Yeah, I realized I forgot to tell them not to bombard him right as him and the other B were swapping places."

"How long do you think it is until they let up?" she asked.

Zari gave her a serious look. "Oh, never. They pride themselves on making anyone who comes onto this ship their best friend. They just think they'll wear him down eventually."

With a grin, Spooner started off out of the lab. "Right."

The rest of the Legends would be lucky if he ever stepped foot back on this ship again. But at least she'd accidentally won him over, without even trying.

#alli writes shit #legends of tomorrow #spooner cruz #zari tomaz #behrad 1.0 #apart from fictober it's been a while since y'all have gotten any legends fic from me so. a lil treat #even if it is a hard candy that's been sitting in my purse for a year and a half

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kpdeek · 2 years

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EP14 Predictions (The Couples)

So when I first started watching KP, I used to make inferences about what's going to happen. Then at some point I stopped because the show took impressive twists & turns that I didn't see coming. Never once following the basic plots expected. But, with the final episode coming up, I thought, huh. This might be something fun to do for the last time.

I have a feeling this thing is going to get hella long, so I'll split it into multiple posts. This post will focus on the couples/pairings. Without further ado:

Opening of the episode:

Starts off with Korn explaining his relationship w/ Porsche's mom OR

there'll be a little time warp to scenes we didn't see in EP13 that ultimately lead us to Porsche pointing his gun at Korn. The conversation bet. Korn and Kim, for example (this convo could be shown through proper flashbacks instead, though. This show loves flashbacks).

Porsche: we see Porsche so emotional in the teaser clip (in the clip, he's also standing in the same room we left him in), so Korn is finally spilling all the beans. i have a feeling it'll be thru flashback, maybe some narration on Korn's part. I wanna say that Porsche escapes from the house and Korn just lets him go, before Kinn or other guards arrive. Where he goes, what he does, I have no idea. Now that Porsche knows whodunnit, he'll decide on one of two things: 1) should he go after Kan (who I predict is the killer), or 2) he decides to extricate himself from this mafia life; disappear with Chay without a trace even if this keeps him away from Kinn forever. But we know that he reunites w/ Kinn during the shootout, possibly for the first time, as Kinn looks fierce in that scene, so the latter decision won't last long. But I don't see him going after Kan for some reason. In the same way he let the scapegoat live, maybe he'll take Macau into consideration? After all, he is the same age as Chay.

Kinn: my biggest interest in EP14 is how Kinn will react to Porsche's deception. Are we going to see him revert back to his old ways, drink drink drink until he figures out what to do in another family meeting? or is he going to have faith in whatever Porsche has set off to do and waits to hear back from him? I'm gonna go with somewhere in the middle. He loves & trusts Porsche so much now that he won't want to doubt him, but at the same time Porsche left him in the dark, took off abruptly (with Vegas no less), and threatened Korn. Maybe we'll see Kinn completely break from his father and do something daddy doesn't want him to, but that Kinn has decisively figured is best. What that is, idk. There's a lot I can't guess with them.

Vegas: up until EP13, I thought Vegas was storming the main family house in an act of revenge because Kinn and Porsche have ruined everything for him. Of course, my mind on that has changed. I think he hears that his father is the killer, maybe from Porsche himself since he's his getaway driver, or maybe thru a hole in the wall. With the development we've seen of his character, I suspect he might gather those Guards he's closest with from his place & storm the main family house in their defense!! Not because he suddenly likes them, but he joins forces to take down his father, who he'll maybe finally blame for the way his life has gone.

OR, things can happen the opposite way; he hasn't learned from what Pete has been telling him, and he falls victim to his father's abuse once again. Papa Kan convinces him once more that it's the main family's fault for the deplorable conditions they've been in for the past month, and thus gathers Vegas to fight on his side. They storm Kinn's house as a united front. I personally don't like that second scenario, so I'm really hoping against it. But seeing as Vegas is functioning as a free agent now, so to speak, I feel like the former is more valid. But I do think Vegas will get shot. It's his turn to take a bullet, no? Besides, if the production team is playing around with a season 2 (and Pond has mentioned before that the show was intended to have more than 1 season), whether we get that season or not, Vegas getting shot sets up a good starting point for them. His phyiscal, mental, and emotional healing process, all points to kickstart his new story.

Pete: we know he's fighting on Kinn's side. I think he'll have a moment where he comes face to face with Vegas and again doesn't shoot him. But would they have a scene with KP pointing guns at each other AND VP pointing at each other? I wanna say it's possible, almost probable, because there have been so many parallels between the two pairings in more recent episodes. & if KP do the shootout tango as their way of making up, then Pete & Vegas might simply turn each other's guns away from the other and focus on what each of them are there for. No tango for them, but also no shooting each other. And if Vegas does get shot, then Pete will be the one to kill whoever shoots him.

Kim: I'm gonna give Kim the benefit of the doubt here. As much as I want to see him in the shootout, fighting side by side with Kinn (I'm crossing my fingers for a scene with them together), we know he hates anything that has to do with the mafia life. In fact, he's not informed on anything happening in their world currently. That could be what Korn sent after him for; to tell him of how things have been going so he can prepare himself for whatever he decides he wants to do. From scenes we have floating around of him in the final episode, I'm gonna say he goes looking for Chay, maybe to make sure he's safe, or take him somewhere safer. Will Chay get an apology? Will he hear Kim out? Will he go with him? But let's say Kim doesn't find Chay. Then he'll go help his family.

Chay: I have a feeling that he'll be tucked away for the entirety of the violence. He'll have been safe and sound the whole time. But I'm also gonna' guess that he wasn't w/ Yok. He was with Jom or Tem. Why? Because the mafia world knows Yok, they've frequented her bar. She's too obvious of a choice. But Jom and Tem? They'll laugh at the idea that Porsche would trust two wild guys with the protection of his brother. They won't go after them. And that's what makes them the perfect babysitters.

My next post will be on my guesses for how we get to the shootout, and Korn & Kan's place in it.

Feel free to offer your opinions on this, your own predictions, anything. I really, really wanna know where others' minds are taking them. But please remember, I have no idea what I'm talking about, and I look forward to all this being proved wrong in the finale. This is just guess work to keep the fun alive until the next EP.

#kinnporschetheseries #kinnporsche cast #kimchay #vegaspete #kinnporsche #bible wichapas #barcode tinnasit #build jakapan #mile phakphum #apo nattawin #kinnporsche ep13 #kinnporsche ep14 #this is all in good fun #please dont take it too seriously

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matoitech · 11 months

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ok uhh okay. spiderverse 2 thoughts. in bullet points for the sake of my churning brain cuz im just not rly sure how i feel abt it rn. like it was a good movie? i enjoyed it it was fast paced i didnt realize 2+ hours went by which also segues into my first thought but like. yeah i have thoughts.

first of all that was like a super weird ending decision to make it a part 1 of 2. zero warning for that. and i sat in that theater till credits bcuz i genuinely thought i was being punked and the movie was going to finish, bcuz it did not at all feel like a place to stop for the movie. it ends like right before the climax?? yes they really. extended themselves damn far for this one and it would be a lot to tie up in like another 45 minutes of movie but also like you couldve done it.. i really dont. understand. like ppl just sat in the movie theater like wait is it done. theyre ending it here? for real? like it wasnt the kind of ending you expect from this movie

animation was obviously gorgeous and insane i dont even need to talk about what eye candy it was. the different styles all together the fight scenes ugh so good yeah yeah everyone knew it would be a trip

rly cannot stress enough what a Direction this sure was. i dont like say it as crit necessarily just like. did they over extend. maybe. they sure Extended. i would expect this maybe for a third movie not a second but they were clearly trying to blow the first one out of the water. it was just.. a lot looser. it needed to be tighter. i dont know what theyre planning for the 3rd movie but i really did not like. vibe with that ending decision

they changed peni’s design slightly and gave her a cooler mech so thats nice. maybe they listened 2 criticisms abt that

i cant decide how i feel abt a lot of the dialogue tbh it rly wasnt my thing a lot of the time like. the changing writers were kind of.. obvious. and there was a LOT of dialogue bcuz this movies purpose seems to be a very Character Driven story to prepare for the next? like theyre TRYING to say stuff thats for sure. also it was rly quippy in a way that i feel has gotten kind of tired with dialogue writing like SOME dialogue was genuinely funny and good to me like i wouldnt say it was BAD or something (some of it was bad.) it was just.. noticeably different? the tone for this movie was changed from the first which again isnt bad youre telling a different story it was just Different yeah. some things i rly thought couldve been handled like with more subtlety.

i guess we only had one movie with the original cast but some stuff just like i personally was sitting there trying to figure out if it felt in character or not. its rly hard to explain if u havent watched it i think and maybe im just crazy i dunno. im absolutely not opposed to making ur characters fuck up and make mistakes but like. huh. i guess. i would not expect otherwise from gwen bcuz shes a teenager but i was.. surprised that peter was going along with it like ? hes a middle aged man lol he wasnt like taken advantage of or manipulated in any way. not like they were trying to say that w the like spider group anyway, like i dont think they were tryingto say gwen was necessariyl taken advantage of or anything, like they werent trying to make them read as ‘evil’ if anything just like wow these ppl sure have Problems they are going thruogh. but like still? im not invested in peters character even it just felt kind of weird. miles went fucking through it too like jesus christ im still trying to wrap my brain around all this it sure does feel like theyre putting these ppl thru comic book trauma

what i went through emotionally wheni realized they were going to do Dark Miles i dont even mean that as criticism or anything its just a bold move man. buti was sitting there like yeah of course they would. hope they make it work

i dunno i probably have more thoughts im just kind of like sitting here lol like what a weird decision. if they hadnt ended it like that i probably would have my thoughts more tied together bcuz the movie itself wasnt tied up?? so its kind of hard to even like think through everything on one watch

#spiderverse 2 spoilers #itsv 2 spoilers #atsv spoilers #idk what tags ppl use #spiderverse

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sleepymarmot · 4 months

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Vertigo (1958)

[Watched on August 28th]

Please enjoy a liveblog of me watching this classic completely blind and having An Experience. (But only if you’ve seen it yourself, because this is one of the films that work much better when you know nothing in advance.)

Liveblog

The first scene between the man and the woman was the height of “as you know”. They just talk and talk in exposition while I spend several minutes trying to figure out whether they’re a couple or father and daughter.

I decided to watch this film right now because I know it was brought up in Laura Mulvey’s article about male gaze and wanted to read it without getting spoiled, and I don’t know what exactly she said about it, but I immediately noticed how the man is filmed “objectively” but the woman is shown through his eyes, following his line of sight.

Glad I know nothing about the plot because I’m genuinely intrigued.

Has she really not noticed an extremely obvious trail even once?

Oh my god I misread the dates on the headstone as the 20th century instead of the 19th and kept thinking Carlotta died just before the events of the movie. Well, this makes more sense now!

Really pretty shots with the Golden Gate Bridge.

My late grandmother must have looked a lot like the main character when she was young… They were probably born around the same time, she wears her hair in a similar way to what I remember...

Bro I know she’s the other main character and the two of you are probably going to have at least some romantic tension, but why are you grabbing her hand like that, she’s married to your friend…

I am hoping more and more that we’ll get a recap of the entire film from her POV at some point. Like her hiding in the hotel room when he came in to check, or listening in to his conversation with her husband on the phone.

This black-and-white outfit slaps

I’m glad I know nothing about this movie because I genuinely have no idea whether it’s going to be supernatural or not

I didn’t expect her to die so soon. There’s 45 minutes left! So what now? Has the husband been driving her mad to take possession of the inheritance? Is the film going to be about him from now on?

Damn, the effects in this dream sequence did NOT age well

I like how the film draw attention to the 50s pretty women looking indistinguishable. I kept wondering whether Midge and Madeleine were played by the same actress!

Huh, I suspected that she threw a fake body, but didn’t think she wasn’t alone!

Oh, so the dead body wasn’t fake, the living one was.

The film really shifted POVs, and not in a way I expected. Now we know what she’s thinking but have no idea what the fuck he is.

Oh I bet there’s class commentary on this too. I can see where the gender commentary is. I thought the perfect alluring image of upper class white femininity, mysterious and vulnerable, was just a patriarchal cinema convention, but it’s actually constructed even within the fictional universe! What a pity, to know that a man does not want a real you, only a mirage designed to be as stereotypically attractive as possible. “If I let you change me, will that do it? If I do what you tell me, will you love me?” “Yes. Yes.” “All right. All right, then, I’ll do it. I don’t care anymore about me.”

Either he has figured it out and is trying to set up a trap for the murdering husband, or he’s oblivious and poor Judy needs to grab her IDs and run far far away asap

Like, I have to be fair to the dude. From his perspective, he found a woman who is somehow an exact copy of an innocent who’s been murdered by a ghost. He’s living in a fairytale now, as far as he’s concerned she might as well be some magical changeling and if he believes enough he can bring his beloved back or something.

It’s amazing how makeup can change a face — she’s a great beauty as Madeleine and barely noticeable in Judy’s garish facepaint

Oh no is he going to push her into the bay now

“One final thing I have to do.” Nooo motherfucker

“And then, I’ll be free of the past.” Noooo

Oh he’s not pushing her into the water, he’s pushing her off the top floor

Can she push him off instead? Please Mr Hitchcock

Noo why did she kill herself at the last second??

What? That’s the end? He didn’t even jump after her?

Well this was a great movie until literally the last minute. RIP

Why are women so in love with this below average guy anyway???

Rating: between 8 and 9, I think.

[End of liveblog]

Full disclosure: I am publishing this “review” months after watching the film itself, because after reading Mulvey’s “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema” I fell into a research rabbit hole, got my hands onto a bunch of academic writing on the film, and didn’t want to post my thoughts on the film until I went through it all, in case my future self wanted to make this movie review double as literature review.

I read “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema” immediately after watching the film (fighting for my life throughout the psychoanalytical sections, and skipping the paragraphs about the films I haven’t seen yet). Turns out, the analysis of Vertigo takes up only two and a half paragraphs, but it spoils everything so I’m glad I watched the film first. These paragraphs are, of course, quite insightful, except for one weird part where the author describes Judy’s acquiescence to Scottie’s demands as “exhibitionism” and “masochism”. I hope these words had very different connotations half a century ago, because this sounds like downright victim-blaming to me. The current day meaning of these words would imply that Judy enjoyed what was happening, and she made it very clear that she didn’t.

Another essay, “‘The look,’ narrativity, and the female spectator in Vertigo”, written by Karen Hollinger more than a decade later, is a more thorough analysis of this film alone that takes into account the shifts in POV I mentioned in the liveblog above, but to my disappointment, it also describes Judy’s attempts to mollify Scottie as “masochistic”. For the sake of my own sanity, I’m going to assume that word really meant something else in old academic writing.

“The Critic as Consumer: Film Study in the University, Vertigo, and the Film Canon” by Virginia Wright Wexman is a much more grounded essay: it does away with psychoanalysis and talks about the film in the context of its production, which was pretty informative, as well as provides the class commentary I wished for in the liveblog. It was enjoyable to read an analysis based on the material realities of the world that actually exist, and not on someone’s fever dreams. This might be my first dive into this corner of academia, and I was unpleasantly surprised to see people spend so much effort on a methodology that seemed so obviously inadequate to me.

I went through 5+ more articles in addition to the ones I named above, but that reading had diminishing returns. The more I read, the more familiar with the material I became, and the less interesting it was to read other people’s analysis, especially because I kept disagreeing with it. Broadening my horizons in this way was pretty fun and I don’t exactly regret it, but the process wasn’t a great use of my time and energy, and actively demotivated me from watching more films because after months and months I still wasn’t done with this one.

Here’s something I learned from one of the articles: there doesn’t seem to be a singular canonical explanation for whether Judy fell accidentally or jumped to her death on purpose. The initial screenplay, which I found online, indicates it was an accident; Kim Novak herself said in an interview that it was suicide. Not only did Hitchcock not show what happened, he didn’t seem to bother to either inform the actress of his interpretation or come up with one at all. That's how little he, and therefore the film itself, cared about the main female character. Nothing matters but the man and his trauma. Scottie’s storyline is concluded poetically regardless of the reason why Judy falls, but Judy’s own storyline is literally dropped as if it was never there.

#vertigo #liveblogs and reviews #blah blah blah #last day to post all the reviews i've been accumulating throughout the year!

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