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#both so brave so badass!
scarefox · 9 months
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youtube
James - El Nin-Yo Cover
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vegaseatsass · 1 year
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While I'm 6am textposting, I wish to talk a bit about The Warp Effect and consent, and some compelling subtextual storytelling I think we're getting that I haven't seen discussed yet. TW: rape!
It feels really significant to me that the first episode of a story which is so conscientious about its portrayal of sex and consent
1. Opened with a casual, never-commented-on rape*
2. Closed with a time warp event precipitated by yes, a magic camera, but narratively by Alex having gotten pushed AWAY from the fully consensual sex he was about to have, into drunken shenanigans he visibly has little conscious control over and a morning after where he's informed (in a humiliating, kind of sexually-tinged-hazing way) of sex he has no memory of.
*In case I'm not being clear, I mean Meow hopping onto Alex's dick after he told her he wanted to stop. Not some "sex work is rape" shit or something.
Like!!! Yes there is a story about religious trauma and purity culture being told here, but to me it also feels like whatever his mother intended with the purity ring, Alex's path to breaking his sex curse may require realizing he has to 'wait' to actually want and choose to have sex, instead of being thrust (violently, casually, drunkenly, time warpedly, or any other way) into it.
Which would be suuuuch a cool subversion of the sex comedy genre as a whole. Right now he's having pussy and dick literally thrown at him, and the tone is very jokey (ha ha you're a renowned vagina doctor now! have fun!), but he is still v much having to negotiate consent for himself and his partners!
We see it explicitly with Kat - he doesn't want to let her fuck him thinking he's this other version of himself she has a pre-existing relationship with - but I'm wondering if he'll realize it also applies to his relationship with Army, where even if the other Alex consented to Army smooching him whenever he wants, he's allowed to want the guy he still sees as his high school bully to quit being so handsy.
Anywayyyy I sometimes get nervous I'm reading too much into everything, but if the story is at all aware that Alex has learned to prioritize consent for his partners but so far, not so much for himself, there's a lot of rich narrative there to explore.
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cyb0rs · 11 months
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Astrology Observations
Semi +18
Capricorn women are badasses nuff said. They know how to put on a brave face and they do it whilst looking super chic and put together.
Evolved Aries men are the best men out their when it comes to their loyalty. They’re also the men-babies of the zodiacs, in a not so negative kind of way. They love to be babied.
Unfortunately, underdeveloped pisces women can be gossipy catty and superficial.
8th house synastry isn’t always so bad. If both individuals are mature it can be very very very beautiful. Their love for each other runs soooo deep. It’s hard to separate them from each other and the sexual chemistry that this synastry brings is the best in my opinion it is soooo deliciously intense and raw. Both individuals just want to devour the other they simply cannot get enough of each other.
Since we’re on the topic of s*x if you don’t already know by now, men with well aspected Jupiter-Mars are well-endowed down there. phew 😮‍💨
Weirdly enough, Mars-Saturn men are well endowed down there as well.
Pisces mars men are usually growers not showers 😉
Sagittarius mars men are allegedly hung too
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(i need to stop talking about genitals oh my god)
Contrary to popular belief, Aquarians have a tendency to be cliquey and crave to be around the cool/popular kids i.e the rebels and it could be to some extent a result of them being picked on by said social groups or/and having really strict parents that restricted their freedom.
Leo rising men are usually super sturdy with big bulky bodies and they’re hella strong naturally even if they don’t work out. E.g., Jungkook from bts.
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Saturn in the 10th house is a fame indicator but it can bring unwanted fame due to them succeeding in their career hence attracting so much attention 
Chiron in the 11th house makes an individual have little to no friends or having poor social skills or being severely bullied or betrayed by friends
I remember reading a while back that Scorpio rising women, tend to have very contrasting hair and skin tones. So, they might have super pale skin and jet black hair, like Dita Von Teese and Lana Del Rey.
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Developed Cancer women are so cute, they have the cutest mannerism and the way they talk is so adorable no matter how old they. They’re so maternal and are all in all the sweetest. Examples of those cancer women are SNSD’s Seohyun, Tamera & Tia Mowry and Rachel Brosnahan
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its-time-to-write · 11 months
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Hi! Could You write a Jamie x Kent!reader? Like roy finds out when phoebe recognizes Jamie in a cute way,and he loses his mind on reader and Jamie,but phoebe saves the day? Thanks and best wishes✨
Got it! Here ya go! Thank you for requesting 💙
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take your time while you’re mine
Roy is your brother. Molly is your sister. Phoebe is your niece. You’re a Kent, and (in your opinion) you’re the worst one. Roy’s all about football and coaching and being grumpy, Molly is a badass doctor/mom, and Phoebe is, well, Phoebe. She’s way cooler than any of you, and she’s only eight. 
You feel like you’ve been clawing and scratching your way to the top ever since you were younger, trailing after Roy and Molly.
You forged your own path, acquiring university degrees like it was your job. You let work consume you, traversing the world in a journey of self-discovery until Molly called you one day, with the news that Phoebe’s dad was gone for good. She didn’t ask, but you answered anyway. You dropped everything and flew back to London.
You’ve been around ever since, changing diapers, taking Phoebe to school, going to Roy’s football matches. You’d settled into your own skin a little more, and although it wasn’t a path you chose, it was a path you loved.
Your favorite was hanging around after matches, waiting for Roy to drive you home. You got to talk to his teammates and joke around with them about Roy’s gruff demeanor. There was only one you didn’t like. Jamie Tartt.
You’d have to agree with Roy’s assessment of this one, although Molly banned all talk of Jamie in the house. All it would take is for one of you to start and then you and Roy would just go at it, about how he was a little prick and far too self-righteous and how his stupid, awful hair was nothing compared to his stupid, awful face.
You were glad when he was kicked off the team.
You were upset when he came back.
But, he started hanging around.
His hair was less stupid and his face was less prick-ish, especially when he was cracking dumb jokes to make you laugh.
He’d talk to you while you waited for Roy, then slip away as soon as he appeared.
Jamie-talk was less banned around the house now, but you still didn’t engage. Roy didn’t notice but Molly did, because she cornered you on one of her rare days off to ask you about it.
“You like Jamie,” she states, as you were elbow-deep in dishes.
You look at her, alarmed. “What? No, I don’t. He’s a prick.”
Molly raises an eyebrow (a family trait Phoebe has not yet mastered). “Then why don’t you talk about him?”
You shrug as best you can without flinging soap. “Like I said, he’s a prick. And you were the one who said we couldn’t talk about him.”
Molly returns your shrug. “That was because you both were feeding off each other’s nasty energy. Didn’t want it around Phoebe. But Roy obviously doesn’t hate him anymore, and you’re clearly head-over-heels for him.”
The plate you’re scrubbing slips from your grasp, splashing both you and Molly.
“What makes you say that?” you ask, as casually as possible.
Molly laughs. “Not sure if you’ve forgotten, but I am your older sister. I know more about you than you know about yourself.”
“Fine,” you say, dropping a fork back into the water. “He asked me out two days ago and I said yes because I do like him, but I don’t want Roy finding out, so you’d better not tell him!”
Molly grins. “Fuckin’ knew it. My lips are sealed.” 
You’re successfully sneaking around Roy for one month, when the shoe drops. You and Jamie had been taking Phoebe out about once a week when you were positive Roy was either out of town or “getting his old-man rest,” as you like to call it. Seriously, that man could sleep an entire weekend away. 
This time, he and Molly have something at Phoebe’s school. She insisted he come because, quote, “I’m not braving those crazy mums by myself, and you’re scary enough to keep them away.”
Roy says yes, obviously, because he’d do anything for Molly. You would too, which is why you, Phoebe, and Jamie are strolling around Richmond, and why she and Jamie are trying to convince you of their need for ice cream sandwiches. 
“Pheebs, we literally just had ice cream cones. Why do you need an ice cream sandwich?”
“Because it’s lunch time.” The duh in her voice is heavily implied. 
“And, babe, you have sandwiches at lunch,” Jamie adds. 
“It’s a totally different food group,” Phoebe agrees. 
You roll your eyes. “Babes, Moll will absolutely kill me if I let you. No way.”
You’re saved from their rebuttal by a voice saying, “What the fuck is Tartt doing here?”
The three of you jump, startled, and you and Jamie unclasp hands. You turn to see a frowning Roy. 
“Roy!” you say, unconvincing smile on your face, “I thought you were at Phoebe’s school. Where’s Molls?”
Roy’s glare never leaves Jamie’s face. “We left early. Now answer the fucking question.”
 You can see Phoebe starting her mental tab of Roy’s swear words. Of all the times not to have her notebook handy. 
She knows neither you nor Jamie are going to be able to come up with a coherent response so she says, “Uncle Jamie picked us up to get ice cream.”
This registers with Roy, possibly a little too well, because he steps closer to Jamie and growls, “Hang on. Why the fuck does she call you ‘Uncle Jamie?’”
Jamie shrugs, grateful for any moment he’s still breathing. “Dunno. For me lovable personality?”
“No,” says Phoebe, “it’s because you’re dating my aunt so that makes you my uncle!”
Roy turns on Jamie. “You’re fucking what?”
Jamie holds up his hands. “In my defense, I wanted to tell ya. She thought you’d be mad.” He points at you.
“Was I wrong?” you ask, arms crossed, “Or is this another thing you’re going to be overprotective about?”
You can see Roy’s self-control working overtime as he tries to figure out a response that is going to a) not make you mad b) irritate Jamie and c) be appropriate for Phoebe’s ears. He finally settles on a strained, “Great,” and you smile.
“I love Uncle Jamie,” Phoebe says, fully aware of everything Roy is thinking. “He buys me ice cream and makes us laugh.”
Roy gives you a look that says, we’re fucking talking about this later and you pretend not to see it. You feel for Jamie. You have a feeling that 4am practices are about to get a lot more hellish. 
At least you won’t be alone for Roy’s interrogation. You know he’s going to lose his fucking mind when he hears Molly knew this whole time. 
You don’t worry about it yet, though. Right now you just listen to Jamie and Phoebe swear to Roy they haven’t had the chance to get their ice creams yet, and maybe he should take them because it’s getting close to lunch time and they’re quite hungry?
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stoneagedevil · 3 months
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Idiot | Eddie Munson x f!Reader
TW/CW: loneliness.
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You’d been feeling down about yourself for some time now. You weren’t a cheerleader, but lately you’d been considering attending the tryouts for the semester. You’d even heard that girls in the band’s flute section were getting action from the brass section. Maybe you could pick up another instrument…?
No. No no no.
Christ, when did you become so desperate? Maybe it was all the twitterpated faces floating up and down the halls, what with the dance approaching and all.
But it’s not even like you wanted to go. You weren’t much of a dancer, but rather a person to get rowdy on stage at the Hideout when you played. That led to other thoughts…
You’d met Eddie Munson at the beginning of summer a few years ago. You were enthralled with his performance in his band Corroded Coffin, and he was just as lovestruck when he saw you go up with one of the most badass electric guitars he’d ever seen. After your set, you’d both gotten to talking at the bar - him buying you each a soda since you both had to drive home. That was the start of a wonderful friendship.
And unfortunately for your poor little heart, that’s all it was.
You sighed, taking a drag off a cig you found in your jeans you didn’t remember washing. Thank god for that. You looked over at the cheerleaders on the field practicing their routine from where you sat on the outside bleachers; trying to picture yourself in a cheer outfit mingling with them.
Suddenly you were startled by a loud, thundering metal sound coming from your right, nearly pulling your neck at the speed you looked over. It was Eddie - who just jumped onto the metal bleachers to illicit a reaction from his favorite person.
“Shit yourself?” He laughed, smile making his eye crinkle.
“Har har Munson.” You blew smoke at his face smirking slightly. He waved it away playfully.
“Watcha doin’ up here? Thought I’d find you in the art room, but you weren’t there.” He sat closely beside you.
You flicked the dead ash from the end of your cigarette. “Feelin’ melancholy I ‘spose…” you trailed off, leaning back on the seat behind you and looking up at the sky. Eddie quickly joined you.
“Why’re you sad? Need something stronger than that ciggy?” He reached into his inside pocket on his jacket and dug out a joint.
You eyed it for a second. “Nah. I’d better not.”
Eddie frowned. It wasn’t like you to turn down his premo stuff. It wasn’t like you to isolate yourself - especially away from him. He got nervous.
“Hey, what’s going on? You know you can talk to me, right?” He placed a hand on your knee, causing those stupid butterflies to flutter around in your stomach.
You debated a lot of things in that moment. You debated telling him you were in love with him. You debated shooting up from your position on the bleachers and pulling his face towards yours and kissing him. You debated running away, never to be seen or heard from again.
You took none of these options.
“I’m lonely, I guess. It’s hard seeing people get asked out to dances all of the time knowing that’s never coming to me. I wouldn’t even wanna go, but maybe if someone asked…I would? I don’t know. It’s stupid.” You sat up and looked down at your shoes.
Eddie looked at the side of your face. Maybe if he was brave enough he’d ask. Maybe if he was wealthy enough and you’d said yes, he’d get a suit and get you a corsage. Maybe if he wasn’t the town freak. Maybe in another life.
Maybe.
“Hey, it’s not dumb. I know how you feel. I’ve only really ever been asked out as a joke. But someone will come around and see how absolutely amazing and badass you are. Seriously.” He said this instead, even though it made his throat tighten at the tail end of his sentence.
You looked at him, and he let go of a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding captive. Your eyes swam with doubt, slightly damp.
“Eddie. I’m the freakette. Anyone who would ask me out is probably an idiot.” You said, somberly.
Suddenly, Eddie’s hand disappeared from its place on your knee, Eddie himself bolting up from the bleachers. “Hey! I know I’m a repeat but I’m not an idiot!” He said, sounding genuinely upset.
You paused, realization smacking you both upside the head. “You…you what?”
The color of Eddie’s face would make traffic stop. Fuck. Maybe he is an idiot. “I said that…that uh-“ his hands flew over his eyes, “that I’m not an idiot but now I’m thinkin’ I am because I’m pretty sure I just ruined the best thing to ever happen to me.”
Your heart sped up in your chest, your face blushing. “You…like me?”
Eddie, hands still covering his embarrassment, sighed. “I mean, like you? No. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you when we met. Christ. Look-“ he removed his hands from his face, instead wringing them together, “if you give me time then maybe I could get over it. We can pretend this never happened, I just- I just need you in my life, whatever way that looks like.” His eyes looked down at his shoes now.
You shook your head, mouth agape at what you were hearing. You debated a lot of things in that moment. Then, you went with the best option.
You stood, walking calmly towards him, taking his burning face in your cold hands and lifted it. He looked down at you, shocked, and slightly scared. Definitely nervous.
You leaned in and kissed him then, him returning the favor. Once separated, you backed up, “Eddie, I don’t want you to get over me.”
His smile looked like it’d break his face in half, “Good. Because I was totally lying about my ability to get over you. I’m pretty sure it’s impossible.” You laughed and he joined, happy to have made you smile. “I know it isn’t a big dance proposal, but, would you wanna go out? With me?” He had to specify. He just had to.
“Id love to go out with my favorite idiot.” You smiled cheekily. Eddie burst out into laughter, picking you up and hugging you tightly.
“If I can be your idiot, then an idiot I’ll be.” He declared, kissing you once more.
———
Thanks for reading, I’ve been in a slump lately, so I hope this was good.
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the-sunflower-room · 5 months
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✧akutagawa with a s/o who doodles on him ✧
akutagawa x fem!reader headcanons
☆note: i am a chronic doodler (art major moment, everybody point and laugh) and i was thinking about how cute it would be if akutagawa had a s/o who loves to doodle on him, so here it is! please enjoy lovelies xoxo
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-for starters, akutagawa is pretty much stoic and cold with 98% of the human population
-he’s just a serious guy with major rbf what can i say
-to the rest of the world, he’s the terrifying mafioso in black who brings death and destruction wherever he goes
-but to his significant other, he’s just her “sweet ryu” as she likes to call him
-in the privacy of their home he sheds his role as the mafia devil and takes on the role of doting boyfriend
-he has such a soft spot for her it’s crazy
-anyways
-she has this little habit of doodling anywhere and everywhere
-on her arms, on napkins, on corners of paper
-she’s always drawing little hearts or stars or characters—you name it
-whatever she’s feeling at the moment
-eventually she gets brave enough to draw a little heart on the back of akutagawa’s hand one day
-he’s just reading on the couch with one hand resting on his thigh and suddenly feels a pen pressing into his skin
-he starts to protest but she’s so focused and content while she’s working on it that he leaves it be and goes back to his book
-she expects him to humor her for a little while and then wipe it off eventually
-she’s pleasantly surprised to find that it’s still there as they’re getting ready for bed that night
-the next day he walks around the port mafia and goes about his very serious business with a little heart on his hand
-she notices how he refuses to wash it off and can’t help how giddy it makes her
-takes it as a sign to do it more often
-it becomes a therapeutic thing for both of them
-they’ll just be sitting on the couch, watching a show together or something, and she’s just mindlessly doodling on his hand or arm
-he tries sooo hard to hide his smile
-will prob turn away and cough into his other hand to cover up the stupid lovesick grin on his face
-totally denies it when she questions him
-he’s a feared member of the port mafia, of course he’s not completely enamored with the silly little drawings she’s lovingly inking onto his skin (yeah ok)
-she knows he loves it
-some days she’s feeling more ambitious and colors in some of her doodles with markers or colored pens
-“it’s like i’m giving you little tattoos! they totally make you look more badass” (she says as she draws a snake with a cowboy hat on his wrist)
-he secretly adores seeing all of the creative designs she comes up with
-when he walks around with the doodles on his skin it’s like he’s carrying a little piece of her with him
-if anyone in the pm catches a glimpse of his hands and dares to say something about the colorful ink, he immediately snaps at them
-“why don’t you mind your business and stop wasting air with stupid questions, you pathetic imbecile”
-this man is so whipped and protective ok
-like he hates pretty much everyone but her
-will defend his s/o till the day he dies and do anything to make her happy
-and i mean anything
-even if that means having a poorly draw cat peeking out from under his sleeve during a Very Important Meeting with mori :)
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pillow-anime-talk · 9 months
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first meeting with a very strong girl.
request: hiii!!! can i do a request? gon, killua, kurapika & leorio and.. what are their thoughts when they first saw you and got to know you because the reader is such a strong badass and very beautiful woman/girl? thank you!! 🤗💗
# tags: scenario; strangers/?; light romance; fluff; a bit of comedy; badass!reader; hunter!reader; sfw
includes: female reader ft. gon freecss, killua zoldyck, kurapika & leorio paradinight {hxh}
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— GON
↘ He met you during his time on Greed Island when Mrs. Biscuit started training him and Killua. You were the granddaughter of a short woman and for many months you traveled with her, expanded your knowledge and fighting skills.
↘ So you showed up during one of the two boys’ training sessions, greeting your beloved grandma and bringing a paper bag filled with delicious, still hot food. With a smile, you invited everyone to the meal, and Gon looked at you more closely.
↘ You had by far the most sincere and friendly expression on your face he had ever met; your eyes were very warm and shiny, your smile was sincere, and your attitude showed no malevolence. Also, you smelled like freshly picked daisies and juicy peaches, and your voice sounded really nice.
↘ Gon immediately liked you, and as soon as it was time to train, he was literally delighted. You easily jumped between the enormous stones thrown in your direction, silently approached the opponent and aimed with the greatest accuracy at the target using small but sharp knives. 
↘ You were not only beautiful and modest, but also strong and graceful.
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— KILLUA
↘ Killua and his friends were walking around the huge city. It was literally one of the few moments of rest during their journey, so a walk with a cup of ice cream or a sandwich filled with goodies was a really valuable experience for them all.
↘ Many people and animals were walking around them four; out of the corner of his eye, Killua saw a young boy and his sister playing chase, a happy couple of teenagers in love holding hands, someone on their right just playing a guitar... and right in front of them people with big smiles on their faces were throwing small coins into the fountain. It was a quiet, lovely day.
↘ I mean... as it turned out after a while, not so pleasant. At some point, Killua and his friends heard a woman’s scream. 
↘ Someone had stolen a purse with documents from a young lady with a white pram. Killua and Gon were about to run after the thief, but someone overtook them both.
↘ You came out calmly from around the corner. Seeing a crying woman in the distance and a fleeing man in a black hood on his head, you immediately reacted, grabbing him by the neck and knocking him to the ground.
↘ You were not only beautiful and comely in the eyes of a young boy, but also incredibly strong and brave. Killua immediately held his breath as he looked at you more closely. Startling the three friends, he ran towards you. He wasn’t entirely sure why he did it, but as soon as he was right next to your person, he just smiled and said “Hello”.
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— KURAPIKA
↘ Your father was a rich and respected man, and the originator of one of the most useful items in the hunting world – the compass, which shows not only the way, but also the time, temperature and humidity of the air, as well as the exact day of the year and time of day. It was a multifunctional tool that allowed you to track animals and enemies, and at the same time it was a really handy and light item. That day, your father was presenting his product to a wider audience – other rich people, inventors, merchants and businessmen.
↘ Kurapika was your dad’s personal bodyguard that night and followed him closely, watching the guests arrive. As much as he tried to concentrate on his work, somewhere in the back of his heart he felt a strange pang.
↘ In the crowd he noticed you – a smiling woman who greeted everyone she met. During this short party, your eyes met halfway several times, but neither of you had the courage and time to say “Hi” or “Nice to meed you”;  Kurapika was standing next to your father, you were talking to guests and friends, sipping champagne and eating snacks.
↘ Only after the meeting and salary payment the young bodyguard was allowed to approach you and introduce himself. When your hands joined in a short grip, Kurapika instantly felt your strength. Although you looked really delicate and feminine, he was well aware of your position, and the handshake only confirmed his thoughts.
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— LEORIO
↘ Leorio loved going to the gym or swimming pool in his free time. It was the best way for him to calm his mind and relax his whole body. He could also meet friends who often came to the above-mentioned place.
↘ The tall man started his training today with a warm-up and a short walk on the treadmill. He calmly watched the program played on the TV hanging on the wall, sipping electrolytes from the bottle from time to time. Somewhere between a short break and another series of exercises, he noticed a pretty, young woman in a sports outfit who entered the huge room.
↘ In your right hand you held a phone with headphones, and in your left a bottle of cool water. You looked really good, so Leorio glanced at you every couple of moments, working up the courage to talk to you and get to know you. After all, he’d never seen you here before, so this was the perfect opportunity to make a new... friend.
↘ You started your workout by warming up all your muscles and running in place. You did a few squats and push-ups, and finally you adjusted the shoes on your feet, approaching one of the two barbells located in the gym. You warmed up your fingers once more, then added a few extra pounds. After a short breath, in the deadlift, you lifted exactly one hundred and forty kilograms.
↘ Seeing your impassive face and smile, Leorio only managed to swallow. You were amazing!
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imhereformarvel · 6 months
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The Marvels was so damn good. Well balanced, good pacing for a quick film, lots of humor, and some seriously exciting surprises. So many thoughts, keeping it non-spoiler:
-Kamala is a precious angel baby that had everyone in my theater in stitches of laughter the entire movie. If you watched the series, you already know that the actress is phenomenal, however, she manages to bring serious star power to the big screen in a way that feels truly magical. I see big things for Iman Vellani’s future.
-I love that we got to see a very human side of Carol in this film. She is funny, vulnerable with her found family, and still an absolute ass-kicking badass nonetheless.
-Monica is such a strong character. She never falters in the face of adversity, and I really admire it. She is smart, fair, brave, and levelheaded when others can’t be. A great role model for the younger crowds seeing the film. 
-THE FLERKENS!!!!! 🐱🐱🐱🐱
-UM the end of the film sets up some seriously big shit and I don’t want to spoil it for anyone but all I can say is DAMN.Y’all gotta see for yourself. Major plot points for the future direction of the MCU are established with some shocking cameos. Both the end-of-film cameo and post credit scene cameo made my entire theater gasp!
-1 official (awesome cameo) mid credit and an audio end of credit (just for fun).
-Gorgeous fight scenes. Smooth, well choreographed, and successful in highlighting everybody’s unique powers.
Phase 4 had its rocky moments, but I feel like this week Marvel hit two big homeruns with the Loki season 2 finale and The Marvels. This film really felt like we are getting back to our roots with great action and exciting promises of things to come. 
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unholyhelbig · 1 month
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I have a request as I see they are open! I enjoyed the last Oversight AU! Could I request a one shot of Kate’s imitation / first meeting with Natasha? And maybe go into the specifics of the Eli situation? I love to see the badass protective side of Natasha!
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Title: Dig Your Own Shallow Grave [An Oversight Oneshot]
Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff (Technically, this is one part of a bigger story)
Summary: Kate Bishop is known as the ex-heiress that was welcomed into Natasha's fold long before you. You learn pieces about her everyday, but never the full story. Not until today.
Warnings(PLEASE READ): physical violence, handcuffs, thunderstorms, threats, mentions of death, mentions of jail, incarceration, cheating, toxic relationship dynamic, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, horrible grammar
[a/n: This one is different! I don't know anything about the Elijah that's portrayed in the MCU, just the Young Avengers Eli and I can't stand the dude.]
Check out the full Oversight universe
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven
The large leaden handcuffs seemed like an unnecessary and overzealous precaution to Natasha Romanoff. They rattled as if the young girl was nothing more than a ghost of Christmas past. They were sinched at her waist, both hands balled into fists until her knuckles were a sickly shade of white.
There was red around her eyes, making a charcoal gray hiss into something muddy and sad. There was a flash of confusion and then disgust that fell over her features when she caught a glimpse of herself in the large two-way mirror that stood parallel.
Natasha turned in her seat, made eye contact with the guard. They had a silent understanding. The cameras that were situated at the corners of the room had been shut off- technical difficulties, they would say.
She collapsed into the chair adjacent to Natasha, never taking her eyes away from the only other distraction in the room. The chain connecting her cuffs were bolted to a hook in the table, but her feet were left free. Unless she was an Olympic swimmer, which she wasn’t, that would be no problem.
The guard nodded before he left them in the room and locked the door behind him. The mechanism in the metal door was loud and sighed with age when turned. The light above them swung back and forth within its cage. A circle of yellow enveloped them both.
Her hair was unkempt, nearly feral. They must have kept her separate from the other prisoners but that didn’t ease her tossing and turning under the fluorescent lights. Natasha had been in holding cells, she’d been stripped of her clothes for testing, and her dignity for much less. Something inside of her broke for this girl. This heiress.
“Who are you?”
It was clear that her voice had gone unused for at least a day, maybe more. She shivered and shrunk into herself at the sound of it. Natasha’s features softened ,that break in her soul cracking just a little further. Her file said she was twenty-two, but the girl in front of her was nothing more than a scared child.
“The woman who is getting you out of here.”
“Please don’t talk in riddles,” She moved to press her fingers against her temples. Her hands were pulled back viciously by her binds. “That’s all my mother does. Did. She talks in circles until I’m too confused to find the start.”
“I suppose that’s fair. You’re Eleanors daughter. Katherine?”
“Kate, but yeah. I’m her daughter.”
It was said with so much bitterness. They weren’t being held at the same facility. Kate was in a deep blue shirt made out of something that was less like fabric and more like paper. She wore the pants to match, her clothes being tested for gunpowder residue.
Eleanor was in a large brick jail in an orange jumpsuit. Natasha had considered going to her but found much more interest in her daughter; the one brave enough to stand up against Wilson Fisk and his incredible size. Bishop took King and destroyed a good amount of property in her district in the process. She’d have to pay thousands to get the folded storefront fixed.
“My name is Natasha Romanoff.”
The sentence was simple and conjured fear. She could see the look in Kate’s face. The girl threw her back against the metal chair, and it screeched from the force. “Why are you here?”
“You smashed my window, and a few displays, and I’m pretty sure you set off an explosive.”
“I’ll pay for it.”
“With what, Kate?”
She paled at this. It was apparent that not only had her assets been frozen, but her mother’s as well. They barely had enough to cover legal fees, much less cosmetics that suffered the aftershock of the blow. She sighed and stared at the cold metal table. It was too scratched to show her reflection.
“I didn’t come here to make you feel bad, Kate. Calling law enforcement on your own mother is a ballsy thing to do. It also makes you a snitch. If you get charged, if you get locked up, it’s not something you’ll make it out of.”
“I know that.” She whipped her head up, eyes hard with anger. They softened after just a moment, to something scared. “I know.”
A silence fell over them both, one that Natasha let settle heavily on her chest. Kate was a spitfire, she was a spoiled girl who had a moment of clarity and turned her mother into law enforcement. She was regretting that now, shivering into herself, having to wait until after the holidays until anything could move from the stone it was trapped in.
Natasha had influence with the guards, and with the chief of police in this district. They had an understanding, and she fully intended to walk out of here with Kate Bishop under her wing. Not for free, of course. Natasha was charitable, but even her good deeds stretched so far.
“I’ve already paid your bail and they’re more than happy to release you into my custody.”
She scoffed “Your custody? I’m an adult.”
“You might be an adult, but you’re one without money, without a home, and I’m guessing everyone that’s still alive and free in your life isn’t too keen on taking you in.”
“Fuck you.”
“Okay,” Natasha said in a breath, staring hard at the girl across from her. She looked so washed out under the harsh lights of the room. Despite her anger, her poisonous words, she reminded Natasha of a dog that broke free from her leash and had almost too much freedom to handle.
The woman stood, her chair sliding elegantly compared to the horrid noise that Kate’s had produced. Natasha moved to pull on her coat, covering the deceivingly hard muscles in her arms. Kate had pretended not to stare; but it was fruitless. All she could think about was what those hands had done, what they could do.
Of course, she felt some veil of safety with the cameras being here. Surely, someone would come in and pull Natasha back the second she started to advance on her, if she started to advance. The distance between them was closed and she sat on the edge of the table. Kate pushed herself flat against the back of the chair.
 Natasha didn’t do well with being told ‘no’. She also didn’t do well with expletives directed towards her instead of because of her. Natasha’s slender hand wrapped around the cold chain attached to Kate’s wrists, she pulled forward and Kate’s sore ribs collided with the edge of the table. She let out a dissatisfied grunt.
She grabbed the back of Kate’s head and slammed her cheek against the cold surface with a dull thud. Natasha didn’t’ let up on her weight, instead, she held her in the perfect position to maintain control.
“Here’s how this is going to work,” Natasha knelt down, making eye contact with Kate. She pushed against the hold, but Natasha had the leverage. Kate flexed her fingers, still in chains. “You destroyed my storefront, and while I toyed with the idea of killing you for that alone, you’ve impressed me.”
“I’ve impressed you?”
Her words were smushed, drool pooling from her lips. It was almost comical, but Natasha pushed harder on the back of her neck, making her cry out. “I’m talking. When I’m talking, you’re not.”
She was met with silence and figured that was as good as she was going to get with this one. Her spit-fire reminded her a bit of Clint when he was younger. It made Natasha gravitate towards him, but this girl had a lot more to learn than her closest friend.
“You’re a spoiled little brat who crumbled one of the oldest clocktowers in the city. The habit didn’t’ seem to improve when your mother cut off your credit cards and that’s a dangerous thing. Getting the shit kicked out of you in jail might serve you well. So, by all means, you can try your luck, or you can follow me out of here so I can correct your behavior.”
Kate swallowed hard, but she didn’t’ say anything. Natasha’s first lesson seemed to be sinking in. After a few moments, she released the girl who sprang up like a jack in the box. She was giving Natasha the same look that she was used to, one of absolute fear. Her face was red and when she moved to wipe her chin of drool, she was stopped once again by her chains.
Natasha took pity on her, for just a moment, and used her thumb to ebb away the line of spit. Kate knew better than to pull back, instead she looked up at Natasha like a kicked puppy, making a small noise in the back of her throat.
“Anyone who stands up to Wilson Fisk is too valuable to kill for some property damage. But let me be clear, Kate, this is not a get-out of jail free card. You work for me. You belong to me. And we’re going to fix that attitude of yours.”
He had moved to the city during Kate’s senior year and wasn’t much for talking. Eli Bradley was as mysterious as they came. He was lanky and had deep brown eyes that were so dark they were nearly black in color. Eli wore a gold hoop in one ear, and while Kate would usually find something like that off-putting, it worked on Eli.
She played cello in the orchestra, first chair with pride, and he was modest with a viola. She made a point to make eye contact with him at least once a day, and eventually he started to return her small smiles. She thought the subtle way his lip quirked up at the corner was nothing but endearing.
In early October of that year, when the air was still crisp but not exactly cold, Kate had sat in the courtyard until the sun threatened to dip behind the horizon. She was avoiding going home to get ready for a party her mother was hosting and had worked it out so she could take the last bus uptown.
“Isn’t it a little dangerous for a pretty girl like you to be out here all alone? It’s getting dark.”
Kate frowned, but quickly retracted the expression when she made out the form of Eli Bradley and the silhouette of his viola case. It hung at his side like a briefcase filled with important papers. Instead, she hiked herself forward and leaned her elbows against her knees. He’d never spoken to her before.
“I’m a 9th degree red belt in Jiu Jitsu, and I have pepper spray. I think I’ll be fine.”
“Impressive,” Eli grinned “I guess it would be pointless to walk you home then, Kate Bishop.”
“I think I can make an exception, Eli Bradley.”
Kate did find herself making exceptions for Eli Bradley over the next few months. She would let him order for her, even if she didn’t find the dish he chose at all appetizing. She had to gently remind him that she was, in fact, allergic to shellfish and if she ate the pasta he insisted on she’d need an epi-pen.
He made up for it by being a gentleman and opening the car door for her when they pulled up to said restaurant.
Kate stepped behind Eli one winter evening when it was the type of dark outside that breeds bad behavior. A woman in a hoodie stepped out from an alleyway, twitching and with a wild look in her eyes. Kate could have easily disarmed her, could have gotten her someplace warm. Eli had delivered a hit to the stomach and pulled Kate along. It was a blur. But she’d never felt fear- just regret.
He made up for it by holding her tight that night, his warmth and sturdiness eventually lulled her to sleep and convinced her that maybe she could live with herself. Maybe she could live with Eli.
Clint Barton glowered at her over his bowl of cereal. Natasha didn’t know if it was some sort of interrogation technique, but it even made her uncomfortable. It was much too early in the morning and Kate’s wrists were still an ugly purple from how tight her cuffs had been. Natasha may have pulled a bit too hard, aggravating the already raw area.
“Your cheerios are going to get soggy,” Yelena entered the kitchen in a pair of plaid pajama bottoms, scratching the exposed skin of her stomach with a stifled yawn. She stopped for just a moment to regard Kate, who sat up with a rim-rod quickness. “You always dump them down the sink and it makes the drain smell.”
Clint looked towards Natasha for help. She shrugged, adjusting the reading glasses on the bridge of her nose. She had pulled the paper in this morning and was very careful to remove the front page story of Kate’s mother and her set trial date. She may be cruel in some aspects, but psychological torture was Yelena’s department.
“Who is this?” Yelena asked, voice muffled by the chill of the refrigerator.
“This is Kate. She’ll be here for a while, and if she behaves well enough, she’ll be here longer than that. I expect both of you to regard her well and teach her everything you know.” Natasha took a sip of her steaming black coffee. “Hand to hand combat should not be an issue, isn’t that right, Kate?”
Kate waited a moment, remembering the sting of the table against her cheek. Natasha had asked her a question so it was okay to answer, right? It must be. She had a tendency to not stop talking once she started but it was clear from the prying eyes in the room that she was expected to reply.
“Yes,” She found her voice easier than she had in the jail. “I’m advanced in Jiu Jitsu, hand-to-hand combat, fencing, sword fighting, archery, kick-boxing. Once I used a set of staves from this really nice woman named Bobbi…”
She trailed off when she realized Clint had stopped fishing for the last cheerio and Yelena had cracked open a bottle of juice like she was snapping the neck of a small animal. Her cheeks turned a bright pink, and she averted her gaze.
Natasha smiled softly and took another long sip of her drink. The blonde woman, the one with the chiseled jaw and the striking green eyes, let out a hum. Her stare raked up and down Kate’s form, even while she was shrinking into herself.
“I will train her.”
“That’s not an option, Yel. I want to utilize her, not kill her.”
Kate’s head shot up at the word. She caught Clint’s stare, and he gave her a dejected shrug before pushing the little life-raft of a cheerio under the milk once more. He had no interest in eating it, just drowning it.
Yelena was smiling wolfishly, lilting her head to the side like it was the most innocent thing in the world. “Kill her? Sister, I would never. She’s clearly an asset. If you let Clint train her then she’ll be regressing.”
Kate watched the tension bounce back and forth between the two like a sadistic game of ping-pong. Yelena had just hit the little orange ball with enough force and trajectory to burn a hole directly through Natasha’s paddle.
She’d never dream of pushing Natasha in the slightest, much-less the way that Yelena did right now. Her body language was relaxed and quiet. The two of them stared at each other, and the newspaper was folded, discarded in favor of the stand-off.
“I will not kill her,” Yelena reassured, yet somehow, Kate hadn’t been assured the first time, nor the second time. “Give me a chance.”
Susan Bishop had a harder stare than Eleanor. She had inherited it from her, Kate was sure, but knew how to work it like a double-edged blade. Rarely would she look at Kate. Even rarer so was the two of them being in the same place for more than six minutes at a time.
Kate had her eyes downcast, pretending to read the same paragraph of the same book over and over again. Once she felt the sharp stare of her older sister on the side of her face, it shown brighter than the sun above them.
She’d been stretched out on a poolside chair, just enjoying the pungent scent of chlorine and the occasional low hum of a car passing their large home. It was too chilly for her to actually swim, but she had a fuchsia bathing suit under her long-sleeve shirt and jeans nonetheless.
Susan had settled into the seat next to her and let out a deep sigh as she typed quickly on her cellphone. Kate had cast her a sidelong glance, but quickly pretended to lose interest. They were going back and forth like this for a long, pregnant moment.
Eventually, Susan sighed and softly closed the book in Kate’s hand, not regarding the page that she was on. Kate didn’t mind much. Her older sister never did anything softly. Kate’s heart thrummed in her chest when their eyes met.
“Hi?” Kate cautioned.
“Hi. We need to talk.”
“What do you want?” There wasn’t anything Kate had that Susan didn’t. Hell- she could ask Eleanor for anything and would instantly get it. There were no rules for the eldest, responsible, child. All of that strangling focus was on Kate.
“I don’t want anything. I just want to talk. Sister to sister.”
“Right… sister to sister.”
“You need to break up with Eli.”
The statement through Kate back. It was like Susan had kicked her directly in the diaphragm. The oxygen in her lungs deflated and she stared at her sister in disbelief. Then in startled rage. What did right did Susan have to meddle in her relationship like this?
Kate wanted to tell her just that, but nothing came out except for the last squeeze of air that could be interpreted as a noise of discontent, but Susan never was good at reading signals and Kate needed a fleeting second to catch her train of thought after it had been so violently derailed.
“I get the appeal of the student athlete, I’ve had plenty of them myself, but Eli is not the man for you. You can do better.”
“Seriously? Is this mom speaking or you?”
“This is all me, sweetie.” She didn’t’ say it in a condescending way. In fact- Susan actually reached out and gently touched Kate’s bare arm. She tensed under her, but the hand wasn’t removed. Not even when dark grey eyes looked at her incredulously. “I don’t like the way he changes you.”
“Changes me? You think Eli changes me?”
“I think he makes you shrink and Bishop women are never meant to shrink.”
“That’s all mom has ever done.” Kate bit back venomously.
“Wrong. Mother has full control over Father, she just makes him think that he doesn’t. She’s the decision maker and if she has to keep a hand on his shoulder to do that, then so be it. The world listens to men, and looks at women. It’s how society is. But Eli? He’s binding your hands, not taking them.”
Kate shoved Susan’s hand from her arm and placed both feet on the ground. She didn’t have to listen to this… this practical stranger. Susan didn’t’ know what she was talking about, and neither did Eleanor. They were both ignorant to the way she felt about Eli and the way Eli felt about her. He wanted to the best for her.
Sometimes- she just had to remind him that she was allergic to shellfish.
“Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine.” She gritted before standing. She disregarded her book, not that interested anyway, and began walking to the patio doors. Tears had started to sting her eyes. First out of sadness, and then maybe a mix of malice.
“He’s cheating on you.”
Susan said it so softly that could pretend she hadn’t heard it. The water filter for the pool was loud enough to drown out the statement. But she’d stopped with one foot on the bottom step of the patio and the other planted firmly on solid cement. Her nails dug stinging half-crescents into palm.
“You’re wrong.”
“Ask him.”
“I won’t,” She turned, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “Because I trust Eli. Maybe you could grant the same to me.”
Her childhood home held onto the darkness like a vice. A place that was once so maintained and bright was past falling into lawn decay. The pristine shrubbery had springing curls of foliage and the grass hadn’t been painted like her father insisted upon each year.
The structure stood strong, only a few months and some change abandoned. A small strip of tape on the mahogany door was the only indication that this had been an active crime scene at one point. The FBI had taped an order against it before they shattered the wood with a battering ram and raided the home.
Kate hadn’t been back since. She’d been living out of her Aunt Mira’s apartment and wearing her eccentric clothing. But the elder woman would be back soon and eventually she would need to get her own belongings back. If she didn’t, then squatters would when they realized just how vacant the home really was.
Yelena let out a low whistle as she peered up at the home, as if they didn’t live in one with the same amount of wealth. Even the tone she produced sent shivers down Kate’s spine. It had been four months since that day in the precinct.
Each day was spent from dawn to dusk in Yelena’s presence, and it never became easier for Kate. She was a bumbling and incompetent mess around the woman but had grown some kind of comfort in her presence. Kate no longer believed she was in danger at her hand specifically.
That didn’t’ mean that her body didn’t ache from the constant hell that Yelena had been putting her through to put her in ‘the peak performance state- Kate Bishop’. Yelena only said her first name and barked it at her if her pace lessened on one of their multiple-mile runs, or grueling weight training sessions.
Kate didn’t want to admit that she was entranced by the tone of Yelena’s muscles. She chalked it up to admiration, because that’s all it was. Admiration. And a bit of resentment. But Kate’s chest puffed out proudly when she noticed the way her own body began to change under Yelena’s tutelage. Enough that she was ready to go back to her old home for some closure, for some clothes.
Natasha shoved her keys into her pocket and fell in line on Kate’s right side. She peered up at the expertly crafted wood. It had begun to chip. Kate thought that was ironic; it had always been so pristine, but the more she thought about it, she’d often duck under a ladder to step into the foyer.
Bad luck all around, and a simple patch job that would crumble if not properly cared for.
“We can just buy you new clothes,” Natasha urged in that flittingly careful way that made Kate know she really did give a damn, but not if you asked. “You don’t have to go in there.”
“And add to the debt I already owe you for busting me out of jail?”
“I think she has to do this.” Yelena said firmly.
She was right. Kate had to do this. She was always handed everything in life so easily and it made her reckless, but far from undisciplined. It just took Natasha slamming her face against the cold metal of an unclean table for her to get some sense knocked back into her.
Kate had called the police on her mother. She’d done it after the knowledge of crimes committed festered and grew in her mind. It bred resentment in her mind until she came face to face with the fact that she wasn’t putting her mom away, she was putting a monster away.
Stepping through these doors would humanize her and it would cut Kate deep enough to draw blood. But then, she felt Yelena’s fingers on the small of her back. A light touch that was telling Kate that she wasn’t as alone as she thought she was.
The door let out a whine of protest when she pushed it open. They were met with a stale scent and a soft glow that ruminated from what Kate knew best as the living area. There was a grand piano that was mostly untouched, and large oak bookshelves that had multiple editions of old encyclopedias bound in leather.
She and Susan used to flip through them and try to pronounce the words by phonic spelling. They’d trace their little fingers over the inked illustrations and giggle if they had found something even remotely obscene. She remembers the word ‘Dam’ making them laugh until they couldn’t breathe.
Natasha’s hand darted out and pressed against Kate’s mid-section. Her other one grabbed the gun from the back of her pants. She shot the girl a sideways glance. “You left that on?” she mouthed.
Kate shook her head, her fingers itching for her own weapon. She didn’t have one. While Kate was an expert at professional archery and her aim wasn’t in question by anyone in the room- her familiarity with handguns with the serial number scratched off was minute. Yelena had pulled her own weapon, jaw firm.
Maybe squatters had broken in, and if they had, she’d gladly allow them to have the place. She just needed to stuff a duffel bag full of items and the small sentimental necklace she had gotten from her father as a child, and then she would be on her merry way.
Natasha stepped around the corner and raised her gun, screaming something that was drowned out by the startled yells of another. Kate recognized that yell, that rasp. She frowned, letting the tension in her shoulders drop before she got a good look at the living room herself.
It was incredibly lived in and lit by a single lamp that had it’s shade discarded. It was blinding and left spots in her eyes, but not enough to disregard the box of white sticky rice that had spilled all over the floor like maggots.
There was a makeshift bed on the couch and a few of those encyclopedias strewn about as if they were bedtime reading. In the center of it all; Eli Bradley with his hands up and a fork between his lips. His mouth dropped open and it fell to the floor with a dull thud.
He was shirtless, in a pair of boxers that Kate was pretty sure was her fathers. She was thankful she hadn’t eaten before this because the simple fact was enough to make her gag.
“Elijah?” She exclaimed.
“You know this guy?” Yelena asked, voice tight. She lowered her weapon, but Natasha kept hers in the same position it was before, trained right at his genitals and ready to shoot at a moments notice.
Kate wished with her entire body that she didn’t. His boxers held his athletic thighs, his deep brown eyes flashing to the guns aimed at him. Yelena was never a patient woman but somehow, in this moment, Kate knew deep down that she would be patient here. Her mouth was dry and her throat like sandpaper. It was incredibly hard to swallow.
“I’m her boyfriend.” Eli sounded out, his fingers twitching “I have a key.”
Yelena looked at Kate with pleading eyes, to which she received a nod in return. Kate supposed she hadn’t officially broken up with the man in front of her. The aimed weapons were lowered to the floor, but Natasha kept her hold. One false move and she wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet through his bare foot.
“Yel, idi soberi yey sumku.”
Kate didn’t understand a lick of Russian, but she knew that Natasha’s tone was not to be questioned. Yelena holstered her weapon and slinked up the stairs. She’d be able to guess which room was Kate’s. The trophies and medals and photos tacked up to bulletin boards. It was the only room Kate was allowed to personalize, and even then, it was meant to be spotless.
Natasha must have caught onto the tension in Kate’s stance. She shoved her hands into her pockets, shoulders hunched and eyes submissive. It wasn’t something she wanted to see in her young trainee.
It wasn’t at all the woman that sat across from her in an interrogation room. Not even with her face her neck in Natasha’s grip. Something was wrong, and it was something stronger than Kate being back in her childhood home. That warranted sadness. But compliance? Absolutely not.
“Katie, baby. Who is this?” Eli asked. “Come on, you can tell me.”
When Kate opened her mouth to speak, Natasha held up a hand, instantly silencing her. The woman lilted her head to the side, unripe eyes taking in the scene in front of her; the discarded take-out containers, the balled-up socks in the corner of the room. The rain that had begun to pound against the roof and slather itself across windowpanes.
Natasha’s voice came out as a snarl “I’d love to introduce myself, but first, could you ask your little friend to come out from behind the curtains?”
Kate’s stare hardened and she whipped her head up accusingly. Still, she didn’t say a word. The wine-red Versailles fabric shifted; the view blocked by the grand piano but not enough for Natasha to ignore. Kate’s mother had spent hours looking over Swatches that would fit the room, and eventually chose the option that brought the room into a gothic elegance.
Kate didn’t need to wait to know who it was. Cassie Lang. Best friend, confidant, and exactly who Kate caught in bed with Elijah weeks before. But this was different. This was her home. It had already been violated by law enforcement. Torn apart just for two of her friends, people she trusted and loved, to take advantage of its vacancy.
“That’s better,” Natasha purred. Cassie was shaking because of the cold, wearing only a silk robe that belonged to Kate’s sister. “Now, let’s all have a chat.”
 “Kate, Katie, it’s not what it looks like. Just… tell your friends to leave and I’ll explain everything.”
Eli attempted to step towards her, hands no longer raised in caution but reaching towards Kate. Natasha felt a surge of anger lick against her skin. She stepped between them, splaying her hand out on his chest before shoving him recklessly onto the center of the couch.
He sprung back onto his feet, voice dripping in venom “Back off lady! I’m trying to talk to my girlfriend here!”
Natasha let out a sigh and crossed her arms over her chest before turning her gaze to Kate. Something about this situation was juvenile, but so important. Though she only had the girl under her care for a few weeks now, she felt nothing but warmth towards her.
She’d mislabeled her as a rich, undisciplined trust fund baby. Natasha didn’t’ often admit her mistakes but that had been one that weighed heavily on her. Sure, Katherine Bishop had a bit of an incorrigible sass to her, but it wasn’t unwarranted. Her boasting was backed up by actions true to her words. Strong, determined, actions.
Natasha hated how she was shrinking. Hated how this man had chipped away at her until she was hugging her mid-section to stop the thrumming pain of betrayal. She couldn’t’ find the words, they were lodged in her throat. There was the strong suspicion that if she hadn’t sent Yelena away, they’d be scrubbing blood from an imported carpet.
Something tole Natasha that Kate never got a choice in this relationship, and she wasn’t about to continue the toxic pattern that had led to her demure state.
 “Ketrin,” Natasha’s voice was soaked with her native tongue “Would you like me to take care of this?”
She opened her mouth and then closed it again, almost like a fish. Words escaped her. Natasha’s soft exhale brought her back to the room. Everything was fuzzy around the edges and reminded her of the first time she had pushed herself too hard in competition. She never lost consciousness but came close to it.
Yelena had successfully pilfered a duffel bag, having removed the sabers that resided there and filled it with whatever clothes she could find. Kate felt her stomach flip at the naive idea that the Russian woman had gone through her underwear drawer.
She flicked her eyes back to Eli, his chest heaving up and down as he eyed the gun still in Natasha’s grasp. Cassie was still like a statue, rubbing her palms on the silk fabric of her robe. She had the decency to look guilty.
“Take care of it.”
The words were barely more than a hurt whisper. She didn’t trust herself right now, not with the sharp pain that coursed through her veins. Tears had stung her eyes in the back of the detective’s car, but she didn’t know if that was on account of Eli or Eleanor.
Kate silently excused herself as the silence that settled over the room became thicker, palpable. Yelena’s deep stare was on Kate in a way that made her squirm. But she remained at the head of the stairs, even stepping to the side when Kate began to trek to a room that had already been rifled through. There was an unspoken agreement. Natasha would take care of it.
 “What’s your name?” she asked, directing the question towards the girl.
“Cassie.” Elijah answered.
Natasha held her hand up to him again, fingers barely ghosting his shoulder. He shivered at the near touch but snapped his mouth shut. “I wasn’t asking you. I was asking her. Sweetie?”
“It’s Cassie… Cassie Lang.”
“Okay, Cassie.” She kept her voice soft, cajoling. “I want you to go home and get some rest. And under no circumstance are you going to call law enforcement. I’ll be informed immediately if you do so. Do you understand?”
She nodded frantically, keeping her head down as she moved to smooth past Natasha. The woman grabbed her sleeve, holding her in place for just a moment. She was so close she could smell the sex on her, see the sweat against her brow and the fear in her stare.
“Sweetheart. I suggest you learn to keep better company.”
Cassie let out a squeak that almost bled into a whine before taking advantage of Natasha’s loose hold. She darted with a quickness unseen, the door slamming behind her, the roar of the rain hissing to a muffled stop.
“And you?”
“What about me?” Elijah asked in a nauseatingly confident way.  
Natasha let out a long sigh and studied him. Everything from the way he stood to the faux dog tags that hung against his chest bled fury. This was exactly the type of man that would attract someone like Kate with a level of badger-like charm before clamping his jaw down on her throat.
Thankfully, Kate’s mother had fantastic taste in artwork. A bronze Clyde Ball piece lingered by the entryway. While he was known for his extensive statue work and abstract designs, Natasha liked that he used a heavier metal, one with a base that was easily grasped.
With a sly swing of the hand she connected the corner of the object with Eli’s temple. A flash of blood instantly stained his skin and splayed against the floor when he collapsed. Natasha dropped the artwork next to him. She let out a hum, figuring that a Clyde Ball may be worth purchasing after all.  
His truck had kicked up a rut in the normally spotless lawn. Eli had barely missed the mailbox with his erratic driving- which was bold considering the amount of unmarked and marked police vehicles that encircled Kate’s property.
Kate was sitting on the front steps, the concrete cold and unwelcome against the small of her back. They’d handcuffed her and her fingers were numb. Still, she flexed them when the commotion caught her attention. They didn’t’ bother with police tape, but a man in a wrinkled suit stopped Eli.
It took her a few long moments to realize that Cassie was in the passenger seat of the truck. She made eye contact with Kate, a look of sorrow forcing her to glance away. She was wearing Eli’s lettered jacket and naively, Kate convinced herself for a fleeting moment it had something to do with the busted heating vents in the old vehicle.
She knew better.
She’d smelled Eli’s specific spicy brand of cologne and deodorant on Cassie the last time they embraced. His lips tasted of the bubblegum ChapStick that Cassie had worn everyday since the six grade when Kate landed on her during a game of spin the bottle. Admittedly, she felt more during that kiss than anything she’d ever shared with Eli.
Kate adjusted her shoulder against the hold of the cuffs. They were uncomfortable, digging into her wrists. Even if she wanted to break out of them, she couldn’t. She was a nervous fidgeter and Elijah was using some degree of charm to weasel his way past the officer blocking him. Just as he’d weaseled his way into Cassie’s pants.
“Oh my god, Katie.” He rushed out when he got to her, kneeling down on the damp sidewalk. It was unnaturally cold and they hadn’t let Kate pull on a jacket over the tank top she wore for her morning run. His hands ran down her thighs and squeezed her knees. “Fuck, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Kate’s stare brushed past Elijah blankly and to the fogging up window of his truck. If Cassie hadn’t already been wearing his jacket, she was sure he’d offer it to her, an offer she would vehemently deny. All of his charm, his commanding power, had been washed away with her mothers as she ducked her head and settled into the back of a squad car. One that probably had heat.
“Jesus, I heard that this place was swarming with cops. What did you do?”
“What did you?”
“I don’t… Katie, babe, come on.” He glanced back at the car and when he turned to face Kate once more, their eyes locked. He didn’t’ need to say anything and neither did she. “It’s not what it looks like.”
Kate felt the warmth of Detective Brigid O’Reilly behind her. She wasn’t a stranger to Kate, but she acted like one when she tightened the cuffs around her wrists. Temporary informant or not, Kate was still a Bishop and they weren’t trusted in this town.
“Miss Bishop. It’s time to go.”
Her forearm was gripped and she was pulled to her feet with a grunt. Her legs were numb, needles rushing through them. Part of her was grateful for being dragged away. The other part was terrified, sad, hurt and angry. They’d all betrayed her.
“Where are you taking her?”
“Fifteenth precinct. Don’t waste your breath, kid. She’ll be indisposed for a few hours. Take your little girlfriend home.”
He winced at the detective’s words and averted his stare to the ground. Kate let herself get let to the unmarked Lincoln town car. At least she’d save the humiliation as the whole lights and sirens routine.  
Most of the time, they didn’t wake up screaming, but Elijah did. His senses were overwhelmed, and his body instantly registered the cold and the slickness of muck beneath him. Even over the brutal beating of falling rain, he could hear the cars that swept past on the highway.
His head was pounding, and the headlights of vehicles passing over the highpoint of evergreens only served as something more disorienting. It was only when a crack of lightening flashed across the sky did he notice the woman standing over him, a shovel slung over her shoulder.
So, he screamed, and he swore she smiled at the sound.
He turned over on his stomach and coughed into the mud, his toes not finding purchase in the mud. Natasha’s boot came down on the center of his back and he found himself sprawling, tasting a mix of metal and dirt. He realized that he underestimated the situation Kate had gotten herself into.
“Good morning, Elijah.” She crowed, dropping the shovel next to his face, barely missing his brow. He flinched and shrunk into himself. “I have a job for you.”
She used the tip of her shoe to flip him over onto his back. The falling rain that had gotten through the pine needles above him hit his face in a cooling effect. He saw another set of headlights, eyes darting towards the road. Maybe if he yelled loud enough, all of this would be over.
“I need you to dig a hole.”
“What?” He panted out, his breath leaking out in puffs of condensation. “a hole?”
“Mm, glad I didn’t rupture an eardrum. It needs to be a big hole. How tall are you?”
“I don’t… What?”
Natasha knelt next to him, a sadistic smile falling from her lips. Instead, it was replaced with something darker. Almost as if a flip was switched. Her deep red hair was adhered to her forehead from the rain, her jaw clenched and unclenched.
“I don’t know you, Elijah. But, I know Kate and that girl has been through hell and back. She’s guarded and hides behind her humor to deflect the pain that she’s experiencing. And to me… it seems like you’re a big catalyst here.”
His breathing had become shuddered. Natasha grabbed the shovel before standing and delivering a swift kick to his side. His ribs instantly ached and a cry escaped him. She wanted him to right himself and to safe another deadly spark of pain, he complied.
She had, in fact, started a small divot where she expected him to dig. Tears were running down his face, small sobs muffled by his determination to put on a front. She didn’t’ find any admiration in his sniveling. Instead, she let him scoop out three frothy loads of dirt before she continued, circling like a lion.
His hands had started to bleed.
“She believed in you enough to trust you and you turn around and fuck her best friend?” Natasha got close, yelled over the rain. He stuttered in his movements, clenched his eyes shut. “Don’t stop digging! Was she not enough for you?”
Elijah stuck the tip of the shovel back into the soup of rainwater and mud. It was a black slush at this point, something he could drown in if he laid facedown for long enough. “She was… she was.”
“Then why did you do it, huh? You took everything she was and whittled her down to nothing before discarding her for someone else you could break. Is that it? Did that make you feel more like a man?”
He didn’t’ respond, instead, moving another round of slop to the side of a hole that was starting to look more and more like a grave. He was up to his knees in cold, unforgiving water. His toes flexed in the icy earth.
“Answer me!” She yelled with enough anger to split earth. However, Natasha didn’t give him the chance. She dug her nails into the back of his neck and shoved him forward into the muck. He could taste dirt, words bubbling.
Elijah groaned and brought himself to his knees. His ears were ringing, his heart pounding in his throat. He was crying loudly now, sitting back on his heels. Natasha was above him, standing on the edge of the grave he had just dug. Headlights flashed over her cold stare.
“If you’re feeling helpless, Elijah, so was she. Kate needed you, and you weren’t there for her. She was suffocating, and everyone could see it, but you kept her just out of reach, didn’t you?”
“Yes! Yes,” He groaned out, digging his fingers into the soft earth. “Fuck, yes. I hurt her, I know that.”
“Lay down.”
“What?” His voice broke.
“You’re going to lay here until morning.” She knelt down “You’re not going to move a muscle.”
“I’ll drown,”
“You might.” She growled, taking account of the heaviness of the rain, the way the tires of passing vehicles sloshed around in the collected puddles. “But at least you’d understand how Kate felt.”
[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife@a-spes, @kyleeservopoulos]
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steddielations · 1 year
Text
In the back of his mind, Steve honestly expected Eddie to snap at him for asking where he learned to hotwire.
There’s chaos all around, they’re in the middle of committing a crime, they’re on a time crunch. Steve shouldn’t have even followed Eddie up there. He should’ve been helping the others inside, staying out of the way, being useful and not pestering Eddie with questions.
If it were any other person, he would’ve been told off for it, but Eddie hadn’t so much as teased him when he made the vampire comment or when he didn’t know who Ozzy was (which surely had to be ten kinds of blasphemy to a metalhead like himself). In fact, he made a point to make sure Steve understood it was a compliment, didn’t take it away or undermine it, still told Steve he was metal.
So Steve wants to know more about the person he spent months blindly envying, who’s been nothing but full of surprises and compliments that he hands out too easily. He can’t understand this guy that walks funny, gets in his space, shamelessly stares, openly admits his jealousy, and tells him he’s a good dude after spending one day with him, something that people who have known Steve for years have never just flat out said.
So Steve seeks Eddie out, and asks him where he learned to hotwire, only realizing after that, “oh. I did it again, pulled another 'Steve' and asked a dumb question at the worst time.” He thinks there’s no way that Eddie’s gonna be cool about it now. He wouldn’t blame Eddie if he finally snaps at him. Hell, if the roles were switched, he definitely would’ve snapped at Eddie.
But Eddie surprises him again. He tells Steve the most casually honest answer, almost too honest given the situation they’re in. He’s working fast and under stress, can’t afford to miss any steps, and he still answers Steve’s question without teasing or belittling, or even so much as a hint of annoyance or condescending tone.
No, he’s smiling as he tells Steve about his criminal father that he never wanted to be like, chuckling at the irony and absolute tragedy of his situation, like he’s eager to answer more of Steve’s questions.
Then Eddie takes it a step further. He hotwires the van and turns it over to Steve for the best part. He calls him “big boy” with a smirk that makes his head spin in a new, almost intoxicating way that feels addictive after only one hit. Eddie says he knows Steve’s got it when he’s only ever seen Steve drive a tiny BMW.
That’s what stumped Steve the most. Eddie had the utmost confidence that he wouldn’t wreck this van carrying people they both care about, hopped right out of the way and just put it all in Steve’s hands. Steve even has to reassure himself “it’s just a car, it’s just a car,” and it’s one of those things that he does because he has to.
Eddie trusted him to drive this house on wheels for some reason, Steve both admires and envies how he’s too generous with his trust and his compliments and his smiles. Mostly, Steve doesn’t want to let him down, so he doesn’t.
Steve thinks he understands then. Eddie’s just a good dude too. He’s been keeping a brave face for Dustin’s sake, agreeing to go into “Mordor” for him, joking with the girls and trying to keep up with them, jumping after Steve and saying there’s no thanks needed, brushes it off when Steve tries to tell him he’s not a coward and he should be easier on himself.
Steve should’ve tried harder to convince Eddie. Even in the worst situation where Eddie has every right to be pissed off at the world and everyone in it, he’s still trying to be kind and laugh and say shit like “that was fun” after jumping through a hellhole.
Steve doesn’t know anyone like that. He doesn’t know anyone other than Eddie Munson that would smile at the end of the world. There’s nothing more brave, more badass than that.
He’s going to try to tell Eddie again, Steve decides, he’s going to convince him this time. When he gets the chance, he’s gonna tell Eddie that he’s good too, he’s already good, he's been good to Dustin, to Steve, and he’s still good to everyone when he has no reason to be and he has nothing to prove.
Steve’s going to make sure Eddie knows that, as soon as he gets the chance.
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queenpiranhadon · 24 days
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⚡︎⎸⎸ 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 ⎸⎸⚡︎
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A/N: You all voted on this poll, and this poll, and this poll and after a LOT of voting ((((again) again) again) again), I present this to thee ;) I was working on a time crunch lmao I literally have to wake up for school in like 6.5 hours :,) but I wanted to get this out for Fred’s birthday :). And to @your-local-multi-geek, thanks for staying up and beta reading this for me:) Might make a part two of this…it’s really short. Here's my masterlist! Divider made by @cafekitsune
Warning(s): f!reader, Fred and reader are dating, reader is a Slytherin, we’re going to the Yule Ball!, reader’s a badass lmao, Fred is taller than reader (shh he will always be tall to me), characters might be a little ooc, secret relationship reveal, reader wears a dress, Fred calls reader love, reader calls him handsome.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Girlfriend!Reader
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You felt amazing.
Like really amazing.
Standing there in your gown, you stare at the way your dress hugs you just right, and Merlin did you look good.
Even better, you felt good.
You smirk, the reflection in your mirror smirking back at you, with a daring look in your eye that could rival a Gryffindor’s.
Tonight was the Yule Ball, and you planned on making a statement. You were ambitious, like the rest of your house, but you weren’t as bad as the general public made you out to be. You were kind, and brave, and maybe you enjoyed to stir up trouble on occasion (nothing harmless though), and you (rightfully) thought of yourself in a high regard- not enough to come off as snobbish or arrogant, but definitely enough to show someone that at a glance, you were confident, and you knew how to stand your ground.
That’s how you met Fred- and how you created quite a reputation for yourself.
That’s how you met Fred.
Only a year and a half ago, some pricks from within your own house had been picking a fight with the aforementioned ginger and his twin brother. Both parties would’ve ended with less than ideal injuries, had you not stepped in and basically gave each an every one of them a run down as to why they were being idiots and precisely how each of them messed up.
At first, the Slytherin group had laughed in your face, finding the fact that a girl only a year below them thought she was superior to those older than her funny.
They didn’t seem to find your Aguamenti charm as amusing though, dousing them and their robes in ice cold water, glaring at them with an ever colder stare as spluttered and cursed, deciding that angering you further wasn’t worth it.
They may have thought you scary- but in that moment, Fred fell in love.
The months following said encounter involved the Weasley to attempt to befriend you in any way he could, and you were happy to oblige- knowing that he was a good person despite his pranks, and in all honesty, threatening people would be a lot more fun with the support of one of the most destructive students at Hogwarts.
You two had become close, and after one secluded night in the Astronomy Tower, the both of you started dating.
No one knew though.
Until tonight.
Fred had asked you to be his date to the Yule Ball, to which you accepted, with a wide grin on your face.
It was going to be so fun to see the looks on everyone’s faces at the mere thought of a Gryffindor and a Slytherin dating, much less be willing to have the company of the other.
But if anyone was going to break that stereotype, it was you and Fred.
Other than the two of you, George was the only other person who knew about your relationship, cackling when he found out what the two of you were planning to do.
As the two of you discussed, you would meet up by the kitchens, so that no one would notice the two of you together until you would enter the Great Hall.
You waited, running your fingertips along the fruit of the painting that concealed the entrance, occupying yourself by observing every single paint stroke and fiber of the canvas to occupy your time.
Lost in your own world, you don’t notice anyone approaching you until a steady arm encircles your waist, holding you snug against their chest.
You register smell of cinnamon, the familiar scent of your boyfriend wafting into your nose. You giggle, realizing Fred put on some cologne too.
Spinning around in his arms, you place your hands on his chest, smiling up at him as you drink in his features. His hair was messy, as usual, but you couldn’t deny that he still looked dashing as ever in his tuxedo, black cloth hugging him perfectly and allowing you to see the faint outline of his muscles. A button on his undershirt was left undone, holding it in your fingers as you rest your chin on his chest, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
He chuckles, brushing a strand of your hair out of your face and pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips in awe.
“You look beautiful, love.” He whispers, his voice just below a whisper, and yet you heard him perfectly.
“And you as well, handsome.” You say, pressing a kiss to his nose gently, and take yourself out of his embrace in favor of entwining his hand in yours.
“Are you ready?”
“It’s you and me against the world, love.”
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ronanceautistic · 24 days
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Ronance + Max headcanons?
Could’ve sworn I’ve answered this before but I couldn’t find it so I apologise if I’m answering it again.
I’m actually just gonna drop a quote from the Runaway Max book itself because it kinda perfectly explains what I mean by what I’m gonna say.
“Nancy was standing in front of Steve and Hopper, and she was frightened and delicate, but she was fierce, too. I knew that girls could be just as badass as boys, but before I’d always thought the only way to do it was to be like them. Nancy didn’t seem to be trying to be Steve or Hopper. She was dangerous and brave and frightened all at once.”
I think during Season 2 Max has spent so long trying to be like a boy, being tough and brave and rejecting femininity. When she sees Nancy at the end of the season it does change her, she realises that Nancy’s got the scrunchies and the star earrings and the pretty pink dresses, but she also has guns and ferocity and doesn’t take shit from anyone. In season 3 Max is genuinely girlier than the previous season while still keeping all her hobbies and personality. She’s going clothes shopping then reading comic books. Giggling about boys then falling off skateboards. Who knows, maybe she followed in Nancys footsteps a bit.
In Season 4, I kinda see a lot of Robin’s style in Max. I think they’re both as picky in their music taste as each other, but they’re similar enough that they can give recs. And while, yeah, Max is learning to embrace her girly side because of Nancy, that doesn’t mean she and Nancy have the same taste. Max thinks Robin is unbelievably cool (which absolutely shocks Robin when she learns this) and maybe starts dressing like a mini her the way Mike does with Eddie. She’s getting patches for her jackets, drawing on her shoes, and Robin pretends not to notice so Max isn’t embarrassed but she absolutely does.
Also when she learns Robin and Nancy are dating?? Ten times cooler than they already were.
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ravens-two · 9 months
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PICK A CARD reading
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What do you need to learn from your shadow?
Pile 1 -> Pile 2
Pile 3 -> Pile 4
Deck used: Seasons of the Witch Samhain Oracle
TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC
Pile 1
Apples
"To taste, one must swallow it whole, and beneath the satin flame hides drowning waters."
Pile 1, Apples is the card of deception and distrust. Here I will be reading it in two different ways, and it's up to you to understand which one applies to you, it may be one or the other, or even both.
The first interpretation for this card is that you need to learn from your shadow to beware about who you put your trust on. Your shadow is slow to trust because it needs to understand other people's intentions in order to guarantee you're safe from harm. Now, this isn't to make you doubt everyone and everything in your life, but rather to tell you to follow your gut and if something seems off, it might be off. All in all, you shadow wants you to trust it.
The second interpretation is a bit opposite. Your shadow wants you to be more mindful about the way you act and react to other people. It may be that you're lashing out at other people (even without meaning to) and you end up hurting the ones you love. It could also be telling you to trust more in your loved ones, you don't need to constantly doubt their intentions towards you. You are safe and you are loved.
Pile 2
Black Cat
"There's a curious journey into the depths of the unknown, hidden so deep that only the brave will gracefully return with light in their eyes and shadow leading home."
Pile 2, Black Cat is the card of independence, survival and grace. If you picked this pile your shadow wants to tell you that, at this moment, you need to value yourself above everything else. If there are people in your life that constantly overstep your boundaries now is the time to reinforce them. If these people continue to disrespect you and your space, then you might want to consider more drastic measures (like reducing contact or cutting contact altogether).
Most of all your shadow wants you to feel strong, capable and empowered, because you are much stronger than you think. This is also a time of introspection, your shadow would like you to take time to explore yourself, who you are and who you want to be.
Pile 3
Witch
"Grab hold! Allow the dwelling fire within belly awaken all that is. A mere glimpse, a delicate pull at the very roots living in the alchemy of self."
Pile 3, Witch is the card of wisdom and alchemy. This message will only apply to some of you but if you have decided to take up witchcraft and have been feeling doubtful about it, your shadow wants to tell you to go for it. You are a natural witch at heart, it will come easy to you.
With this card, your shadow wants to tell you that you have much more power than you realize. You are in charge of your destiny and you are the only one who has the power to change it. Yes, they're maybe outside forces that are hard to overcome, but ultimately every single choice is up to you (as well as its consequences). Don't be afraid of this power. Also, if that is something you believe in, it's a good time to manifest your wishes and desires.
Your shadow really wants you to believe in yourself, see what a badass you are and to act accordingly.
Pile 4
Transformation
"Like a thousand storms held in hands soft against the winds, there is a change arising from deep within."
Hello dear Pile 4 this is the card of change. Your shadow wants you to know that things have been set in motion and change is coming, no matter your feelings on it. If you are craving change it's great, if you're not you can't really stop it. No matter what, I don't feel like this change is negative, it could be difficult of course, but not something that will make your life worse. In fact, with this being a reading all about your shadow it is likely that most of this transformation will be internal. Maybe you will finally overcome a fear, a trauma or some bad habit that you have been working on.
If you have been doing shadow work I think that it is likely that you will see the results and understand things on a deeper level.
Your shadow is also telling you that this is the right time to change the things that you no longer want in your life. Take some time to reflect and then take action.
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squintyeyedjoel · 1 month
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Through Your Eyes | Part 2 - More than Meets the Eye (Joel x Reader)
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A/N: IT’S FINALLY FUCKING HERE!!!! I’m so sorry it took so long! I’ve been sitting on this for almost a year and it’s just been evolving and marinating and improving, and I hope it lives up to the hype. It’s time for it to be set free. ✨ This is truly a hybrid of game and show Joel. I see them both, hence both gifs.
I do not own The Last of Us or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.
Warnings: Oooo, this one’s a doozy. So many things. (Let me know if I miss anything.) 😮‍💨 Some original characters, mentions of an elderly family member passing, lots of canon violence and swearing, (this one is a big one. Like a lot. There’s a hefty amount of swearing.) mention of attempted sexual assault (not to reader) without detail, graphic description of injury (not to reader) and blood, attempted abduction? Reader is a badass and sports a black eye and bloody knuckles with pride. Panic attack? But Joel scares it away. 😌 We round it all out with obscene amounts of fluff and humor between it all, sweet moments, and just soft things. It’s me. I can’t not. No use of Y/N.
Word count: 11,928
Thank you to @fordo-kixed-rex for reading over this five bazillion times for me and fangirling over it when I was having my down moments. You’re a real one.
Previous | Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Next
Xxx
You rocked in the saddle of your horse as she slowly followed behind the first few people in the group.
Left.
Right.
Left. 
Right.
Over.
And over.
And over.
Some quicker footfalls to your left made you turn your head, seeing Joel atop his horse come alongside you before slowing his steed back to the slow crawl the rest had fallen into.
“You okay?” He mumbled. “Look like you’re about to fall asleep.”
“Don’t tempt me,” you groused, turning back to face forward with a yawn.
He huffed out a laugh before shaking his head at you almost imperceptibly, nudging his horse to go a little faster toward the front of the group.
Watching him with narrowed brows, you saw everyone else make sure to steer clear of him, giving him a wide berth and a clear path to the front. Tommy’s words from that first day rang in your head.
“You saw a side of Joel right out the gate some wait a lifetime to miss.”
Joel whistled loudly, gathering everyone’s attention, as the whole party came to a stop. “Alright! Listen up!” Some grumbles began to go around, but stopped with one crook of his brow. “That’s an awful lot of yappin’ for people suppose t’be listenin’.” 
If a pin had dropped in the grass underfoot, it would have echoed in the vast forest around you. Even nature seemed to heed his warning, only a few stray birds chirping somewhere in the distance brave enough to break the silence. A lone frog echoed in a nearby creek bed. A few bugs buzzed by, trying to ease the tension, and it seemed to work, because finally Joel went on after staring at everybody.
“We need to pick up the pace. This isn’t a leisurely walk to the park and back. We have a goal we need to get to, and back, and we got one week to do it.”
“Who made you the boss?” Some poor brave soul asked from behind you. A young man, maybe in his mid twenties from how he sounded. You didn’t dare turn to look at him, not wanting to move your eyes from Joel, because if looks could kill…. Joel would currently be facing a serious charge for the way he was glowering at the faceless voice behind you.
“Common sense.” A few small laughs went around the group, the corner of Joel’s mouth twitching up just slightly when he saw you shake your head with a smirk. “This was my run- our run,” he pointed to you then back to himself before retaking the reins to his horse, “and the council thought it best you all tag along to bring the most back we could. Now I don’t mind-”
“Yes, you do,” another voice behind you said, female, almost teasingly, making another round of soft laughter go around.
“Fine. I mind. A lot. But we’re here now. So, since you’re tagging along on our run, what we say goes. Agreed?” When no one protested, he gestured you up to the front with a tilt of his head, going on while you nudged your horse forward. 
“Now, we need to move faster. Any bandits or infected we pass by would pick us off like flies at this pace. The cart will be the slowest, I want the four of you to stay with the cart at all times and watch all four sides.” He pointed to four individuals who nodded, moving toward the cart pulled by a single horse and rider. 
“The three of you pull up the rear.” More pointing and nodding. “The rest of you, in the middle. Keep your eyes open. Everyone keep at a steady pace, we camp at sundown wherever that is. Don’t push your horses too far.” He began to turn his own mount to move forward. “Not their fault we’re a bunch of dumbasses.”
“I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard him say at once,” you heard someone mutter behind you, making you smile.
“At once? Try ever,” another retorted.
Joel looked over at you. “What? Why you grinnin’?”
“They respect you.”
He scoffed. “That so hard to believe?”
“It’s a side of you I’ve not seen before. I’m used to bad puns and screwdrivers, not….” You made a swooping gesture to the group behind you, “that.”
He shook his head once, tisking at you. “Shows what you know. I’m actually partly in charge of security around Jackson.”
Your eyes widened as you turned as much as your saddle would allow to look at him, the leather creaking against the movement. “Really?”
He nodded once in confirmation, a proud smile starting up his face. “Only a part time type’f thing, and it’s purely on a trial basis right now, but…. Yeah.” He grinned brightly at you. “The jokin’ and woodworkin’ are just for fun.” The smile turned somewhat dopey and lopsided.
“There’s more to you than meets the eye, Joel Miller.” He rolled his eyes at you, the grin melting into a scoff and his signature sour expression with impressive speed. Though his eyes still shone brightly, giving away his true amusement. “And I’m gonna try to see it all.”
Shaking his head at you again, Joel looked back forward, nudging his horse to go a bit faster and pull ahead of you. “Nah. Not that deep, darlin’.”
Urging your mount forward, you maneuvered to your right, and fell in beside him with a grin. “That’s what you think.”
Joel tilted his head down and to the side toward you as he spoke for emphasis, keeping his eyes forward. “That’s what I know.” He cut his gaze to you briefly after a moment to try and drive his point home before straightening back up in his saddle, his eyes going studiously back to the wide expanse of land ahead. 
Your grin melted into a smirk, seemingly a new permanent fixture since moving to Jackson. Or more specifically, since moving in with Joel and Ellie. That thought made the side of your mouth tick even higher. “We’ll see.”
Xxx
In the chaos of starting up a new life in Jackson, you’d overlooked one little detail. While you could repair and paint just about anything on your own, you were shit at stitching any stuffed toys back together Joel happened on during runs. It was possible, but it was slow going, and to be honest, looked a bit like field dressings for a battle wound instead of repairs. 
You’d thrown the last attempt of an old wrinkled teddy bear at Joel when he’d called it Sargent Cuddles, Ellie only adding to the confirmation when she asked if you could make an eyepatch for the bear instead to cover the deep scar you’d given it by way of cross stitches.
Halfway through that first week, you’d walked into the town’s seamstress with the best smelling cinnamon loaf the bakery had to offer, fresh and steaming, under your arm. When the girl behind the counter stopped what she was doing, setting down the socks she was darning while her nose went high in the air like a bloodhound as she took a deep sniff with her eyes glassed over, you grinned. 
Target acquired.
“Can I help you?” Her voice was soft and kind, and her smile as she rose to her feet from the chair helped settle any trepidation you felt about reaching out.
People hadn’t always been kind about your hobby, for one reason or another, hence why you came with bribes at the ready. But you had a feeling this time would be different. You smirked as she nonchalantly eyed the loaf under your arm.
“Hi! Yeah! I’m the one who restores the toys? I opened up in the old bookstore down the street?” You introduced yourself, and recognition went off behind her eyes at the sound of your name.
“Oh! Joel’s girl!”
Your breath caught in your chest as your head gave a little shake of confusion at the declaration. “What?”
She chuckled somewhat nervously. “No! No, not like that, I mean…. His neighbor. His new lodger. The one in the attic.” She was talking a mile a minute. “Not his ‘his’ girl….” She slapped a palm to her forehead, cradling her head in her hand as she rocked it back and forth before pulling back just enough to look at you conspiratorially. “But can you imagine?”
After a moment of silence where you both simply stared at each other, soft laughter took over, melting the tension between you.
“Let me start over,” she huffed, lowering her hand from her face to extend it to you in greeting. “I’m Jane. Nice to meet you.”
As you shook her hand, you couldn’t help but smile at her antics. “Likewise.”
Jane turned her attention back down to the socks she had abandoned when you came in, fiddling with them absently before she looked back up at you, a soft tint of embarrassment staining her cheeks. “So, what brings you here?”
“Oh! Right.” Setting the loaf on the counter, you shrugged the backpack off your shoulder and set it down beside the bread, fishing out the few stuffed animals Joel had brought back that needed the most help. “I was hoping we could work out a deal. I can do some basic stitching, but even then, Joel and Ellie have compared my work to that of a field medic more than anything.” 
Jane snickered at the comment as she took one of the worn stuffed animals, turning it over in her hands and analyzing it as you continued.
“People trade me all sorts of goods for these, like this loaf.” You gestured to it with a bob of your head, then placed your hand on the still steaming bread. “The baker’s son has a birthday coming up, and she wanted something special. Joel and Tommy don’t always bring back stuffed animals so it wouldn’t be constant work, but I was hoping when they do, I could bring them here, and we could work out some sort of trade system for the repairs-”
“No need,” Jane said, smiling down at the stuffed tiger in her hands. You arched a brow at her, waiting for her to go on, and she finally tore her gaze away from the toy and up to you. “I had one just like this as a kid. Loved it to bits. It looked like it had been through the wars before I lost it, patches everywhere and stuffing missing so it was lumpy…. I learned to sew on that thing.” Jane looked back at the toy again fondly. “I’ll help you. All I ask is that I get to keep this one, and maybe one every few runs if they happen to stumble on any others like I used to have. I…. I had a collection.” 
When she brought her gaze back up to meet yours, her eyes were misty. “It was small, but it was everything to me. Got a new one every year when I was little from my grandparents. Stopped when I hit that certain age where adults deem you too old for those things. Which was fine.” She sniffed, a tear falling silently down her cheek. “Then my grandpa he…. He started having memory issues.” She took a deep, shaky breath, smiling sadly at the toy. “Regressed a certain amount of years…. Just so happened to be when I was a certain age, still, in his mind, and he got me a stuffed toy every year for my birthday, until….”
You reached out, placing your hand over hers. “Keep whatever you want. You don’t even have to do repairs to keep them.” She began to protest, swiping at her tears with the back of the hand still holding the tiger when you squeezed her other hand gently. “The whole reason I’m doing this in the first place is to help bring some joy back into the world. And I want you to be happy, you deserve to be happy, without me lording something over you like demanding a trade in exchange-”
Jane flipped her hand in your grip, squeezing you like you had her. “And doing this will make me happy.” You studied her for a long moment. “Do you know how boring it is to darn a sock?” You snorted a laugh, and she smiled. “Everybody in this damn town needs to take better care of their socks, I swear…. I’m up to my eyeballs in them. Nothing would make me happier than to work on something that would be giving back more to the community than dumb stinky, holey, wool.”
With a nod, you gave her hand still in your grip one firm shake, a grin crawling up your face. “It’s a deal. I’ll try to tackle the easy ones and send the few in need of more love your way. But!” You let go of her hand and held up a finger, wagging it like you were lecturing a petulant child.  “I’m also dropping some of these goods by, too.” Patting the bread on the counter before softly pushing it closer toward her, you laughed at her show stopping grin and good-natured roll of her eyes in response.
“Fine,” she mumbled around the smile, the sound anything but angry. “If you insist.”
A few days later, you’d dropped a few stuffed animals off to her that Joel had stumbled on during patrol, Ellie tagging along with you. She had opted to stay outside the shop while you went in though, leaning against the doorframe by the front window, taking in the sights and sounds of the city street.
“Not a fan of needles,” she mumbled, glancing into the shop as you opened the door to go in.
“This isn’t that kind of needle.”
“I said what I said.”
You didn’t press her on it, just nodded and mumbled an ‘okay’ before disappearing into the shop.
“Hey!” Jane greeted you, pushing aside her current project immediately to make room for the box you were carrying. “Oh, these are cute!” She picked one up in each hand, lifting them up to look at them better before trading them out for another and repeating the process until each patient had been analyzed. “They’ll be easy.” She turned to you with a smile. “I’ll be done by this weekend.”
“No rush!” You assured her as she set the box behind the counter. “If you’re not done until then, you’ll have to leave them with Tommy, though. I’m going out of town with Joel on a run, it’ll take a few days, maybe a week max. We leave tomorrow. Though, no, actually, you can just leave them with Ellie, what am I saying-”
“You’re doing what?” She interrupted you.
Focusing back on her face, you tried to get back on topic. “What? Oh, yeah! We’re going back to where I lived right before Jackson to get the stores of paints and stuff I had. Bucket loads of it, no pun intended.” You turned to look at Ellie over your shoulder. “She’s rubbing off on me in more ways than one, I guess….”
“Is it just you and Joel?”
Her question caught you off guard, pulling your gaze back to her with knit brows. “It was going to be, but the council decided it was a ‘waste of resources’, so we have to take a little group with us. Why?”
“I’m coming with you.” No hesitation, just straight to the point.
Your eyes went wide. “What? Why?”
“You said you lived about a week north, right? Near the university?”
“Yeah. Because of the university, there were storage units nearby, used to be climate controlled before everything, now they’re just enclosed spaces with extra security to keep clickers n’ shit out. I lived in one, worked in another, and stored in a third. Got pretty good at picking locks, too.” You smirked.
Her eyes were wide and serious. “The ones by the north end of campus?”
Your expression went flat. “Don’t tell me….”
“I lived in an abandoned place on the south end of campus.” She had started to grin like a Cheshire Cat. “We probably were within spittin’ distance of each other and didn’t even know it.”
A laugh barked out of your chest, several more tumbling out after it until you were bent over her counter on your elbows, wheezing. Pushing up to rest on your forearms you met her gaze again, amusement on both your faces. “No fucking way.”
“I left a sewing machine behind. It was there when I moved in, and I hope it’s still there and still works, heaven knows, but…. The buildings by the school had power when the Fireflies were there. I’d use it when I could, and I was able to do so much more work. Now that I’m here I could actually make use of it with all that I have on my plate, and the dam giving us electricity….” She sighed dreamily. “I’m going. That’s final.”
Before you could respond, the bell over the door jingled, making you stand up straight and turn to look at the newcomer.
“Everything okay?” Ellie’s voice was soft as she poked her head in, causing you to do a double take. “I heard raised voices.”
You nodded once. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re all good. Just excited. Turns out we lived right by each other before moving here.”
“Oh shit! No way!” She stood up straight with a wide grin, stepping fully into the shop and letting the door close behind her.
“Language,” you scowled.
“Sorry, Miss Fanny,” she looked sheepish, spinning on her heel dramatically before exiting the shop.
You turned back to Jane who looked on amused. “She thinks she’s funny because I use a fanny pack.” Plopping onto a tall stool that sat in front of the counter, you stared at your friend.
Jane let out a low ‘ah’ as if she now understood everything.
Knitting your brows before arching one, you leaned on one elbow on the counter. “What?”
“Why is she outside?” She asked as she fiddled with some projects behind the counter.
“Said she ‘wasn’t a fan of needles’,” you mumbled, air quoting her words as you turned to look back at Ellie through the window. “Whatever that means.”
Jane hummed in understanding, drawing your eyes back to her. “Tommy got really drunk at the bar one night after I first got here. Saying all kinds of shit. People kept walking off because he wouldn’t shut up, so I opted to walk him home to Maria. It wasn’t far, and he’s a good guy. Anyway, on the way to his house, he starts mutterin’ about his brother and his new kid, how they just got back from some failed medical something or other with the Fireflies, most of it was unintelligible.” 
She crossed her arms over her chest, looking at Ellie. You followed her gaze, finding the teen walking back and forth in the shade in front of the building, scuffing her heels as she went, and kicking rocks.
“Then, he got real sad, and said somethin’ about how he’d sent them to the university right after seein’ him for the first time in months. It was to get info on where to go for the medical procedure, I guess. Anyway.” She took a deep breath. “Apparently they got ambushed there, and Joel got stabbed real bad, almost didn’t make it. That girl out there had to care for him for weeks, drag him somewhere safe, stitch him up….”
Your breath caught in your chest as she paused for emphasis, unable to tear your eyes from Ellie as emotion swelled in your gut for your fellow housemates, but especially the tiny redhead on the other side of the glass.
“Tommy was real broken up about it. Said Joel almost died, and he felt like it was his fault. Ellie had to hunt, and somehow got Joel medicine.”
You turned to face Jane again. “How?”
“Those details weren’t real clear.” She shrugged. “Like I said, he was plastered. Maybe this whole story is some drunken imagining, but the way he sounded compared to all the shit he said in the bar?” Her face melted into something between sadness and understanding. “I’m inclined to believe him.” 
She took a hesitant breath, but stopped before letting it out slowly, then closed her eyes for a moment. After another shallow breath, she opened them to focus on you, and tried again, her voice even softer still. 
“We’d made it to his house by this point. Maria had come out and was helping me to get him inside, up the porch steps…. And he just broke down halfway up. Sat down, broke down, and started sobbing. Made it even harder to understand.” She rolled her eyes and you chuckled softly. “He said something about the medicine came at too high a cost. That Ellie paid…. Would be paying….” Jane swallowed roughly, looking to the girl through the window with something akin to admiration, then back at you. “He said it changed her.”
“Changed?” You could only whisper.
“Broke her. He said whatever happened was enough to take a spitfire, and make her an ember.” You both looked back at the teen one last time. “She’s improved a lot. I’ve seen her grow, come out of her shell just since I’ve been here, but…. It’s her eyes. They’re haunted. Whatever happened out there…. It didn’t stay out there. And it ain’t leavin’ anytime soon.”
“That explains a lot. About both of them,” you mused quietly.
“Joel I don’t know much about. He’s just the town grump.”
Despite the dark turn the conversation had taken, you burst out laughing, seeing Ellie turn toward the window at the sound with a grin.
“Everyone keeps telling me that, even him, but I just don’t see it!”
Jane’s face turned up in amusement softly. “Well, maybe you’re just one of the lucky ones like Ellie, and he likes you.”
“I think he tolerates me.” You looked across your shoulder at her, getting back to your feet from the stool you’d been perched on and faced her fully. “I live in his house. It’d be awkward if we hated each other.”
“True,” she grinned smugly.
“What?”
“You’ll figure it out.”
Xxx
Jane came riding up beside you, smiling wider than the canyon you’d passed a few miles back.
“I’m gonna regret askin’ but what in the hell has you happier than a butterfly on a daisy?”
“That’s not a real saying,” Jane mumbled, looking at you through skeptical, knit brows.
“Doesn’t mean it’s not applicable,” you countered, your own brows arched high in challenge. 
With a roll of her eyes and a sigh, Jane circled back to the topic at hand. “We’re out in the open!” She whispered, excitement lacing her tone. “I love Jackson, don’t get me wrong, but it’s so nice to be able to breathe.”
A smirk made its way up your face. “I know what you mean. Problem is you trade security for a great wide unknown. The possibilities of things that can go wrong out here are much scarier than anything in Jackson.”
She pulled a face. “Nothin’s gonna go wrong when we have a man like Joel leading us. He knows what he’s doing.”
“Most of the time,” you mumbled. “The rest he’s just wingin’ it.”
“Heard that,” Joel grumbled as he passed by your other side, pulling in front of you from the back of the group where he was making rounds. “You’re one to talk.” He looked over his shoulder at you, face stoic as ever, but his eyes showed his amusement.
“I know things,” you shot back, head tilted back to look down your nose at him. “Lots of stuff.”
“Oh, I see,” his tone was condescending, but playful. “Stuff.”
“And things.”
“Oh, we mustn't forget the things….”
“Yeah, okay.” You looked to the side with an unamused grin. “Fuck you, Joel.”
“I mean, if you’re offerin’….”
Your jaw dropped as your head turned slowly to face him, eyes wide as you simply stared at him in shock.
He smirked. “What? You can dish it, but you can’t take it?” Joel’s tone was nothing but teasing, his eyes dancing with unspoken amusement.
Narrowing your eyes at him, his smile faltered slightly. “You have no idea what I can take.” Nudging your horse forward to fall into step beside him, you held his gaze with your head high, brow arched. “And I don’t think you want to find out.”
“Whaddya mean?”
“When I push back. You wouldn’t be able to handle it, Joel.”
He cleared his throat. “Look, I was just messing around. This wasn’t supposed to take such a serious turn. I’m sor-”
You couldn’t take it anymore. The laugh tumbled out of your mouth before you could catch it, more and more coming out to join it.
Joel lowered his brows, glaring at you. “That ain’t funny.”
Wheezing, you pointed at him. “You should have seen your face!”
A horse trotting up beside you made you turn, expecting to see Jane once again at your side, but all you were met with was her horse, sans rider. You thought quickly enough to grab the reins and guide it along with you, before you looked back at Joel, finding his eyes already searching the group. Turning, you tried to sit higher in your saddle for a better vantage point, when movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention.
Near the tree line, Jane struggled in the arms of a man as he yanked her back towards the cover of the woods, none too delicately, one hand over her mouth to keep her quiet.
“Jane!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, and you could see when she heard you, her body going rigid in her captor's hold.
The man yelped, pulling his hand back from her mouth and shaking it. 
She must have bit him. 
Before you could fully process much of anything else, Jane was screaming at the top of her lungs, “Run!” 
The hand was back over her mouth before she could say anything else, the raider pulling them both back until they disappeared into the trees, Jane putting up a violent struggle as they went. 
Not willing to look away from where she disappeared, you called out for Joel, and he was beside you in an instant. His horse picked up on the sudden unease spreading over the group, shifting its weight from foot to foot restlessly.
“We’ll get her, darlin’,” Joel reassured in a low voice. “Don’t you worry. We ain’t-”
Suddenly the entire group was surrounded by raiders, guns and knives of various sizes pointed towards every member of your party, violent threats being traded back and forth from both sides. 
While you had thought your group was large, this bandit raid made your numbers pale in comparison. At least double your head count at first glance, easily. And you had a feeling more were lurking in the shadows somewhere, if what had happened to Jane was any indication. 
You noticed that while several of the men aimed menacing looking rifles at your party, they lacked the magazines full of ammunition to back them up. Leaning toward Joel as subtly as you could when they ordered everyone to dismount their horses, you mumbled under your breath, “They have no bullets.”
He looked at you in confusion for just a moment, brows knit until one of the raiders yelled loudly and pulled his attention away. 
Falling in behind him, you whispered again, “Their rifles. They have no ammunition. No magazines. It’s all for show.” You saw the moment the information registered for him, his shoulders setting a bit broader, and his head held just that much higher.
A raider a few feet to your right was eyeing you skeptically, looking like he might dismount his horse any second and make a move toward you, so you pretended to trip into the back of Joel, smirking into his chest when he caught you.
Without missing a beat, his arm firmly around your shoulders to steady you, Joel went straight for negotiations, trying to talk the men down, offering supplies, whatever they wanted. You weren’t far from Jackson, it was a smart move. You could get back and recoup your losses in no time. But people? You can’t replace them.
“Nah,” the head honcho said with a sarcastic sneer. “We’ve got somethin’ else’n mind.”
You didn’t like the sound of that.
The raider in charge gestured Joel over to a smaller group of his men, which he obeyed reluctantly. After looking down at you for a moment, offering the most subtle nod you’d ever seen a person give, he began to move toward the small group of raiders. 
The boss stopped him just short of the rest and asked him a question in a low voice, which Joel answered softly, shooting you a look which you couldn’t quite read. You couldn’t quite make out what he said, either, but then the head raider decided to make a scene, show who was in charge, and it all made sense. 
In a loud voice, full of bravado and misplaced charisma, the raider turned back to your group with arms spread wide, rifle held lazily in one hand, and called for Joel’s second in command - Will - to hop down and join his ‘fearless leader’. 
Surrounded by the smaller group of thugs, you could tell what the goal was…. They meant to make a spectacle for the rest of you. Take the leaders down, the rest will follow. But Joel didn’t let them get that far. He mumbled something to Will so subtly, you almost missed it, but you saw the younger man’s eyes dart to one of the raider’s guns, and you immediately knew where this was headed.
It all went by in a blur, and yet it was like you could see every detail in painful accuracy. And you couldn’t look away.
In an instant Joel had dropped three of the men in the smaller group surrounding them.
Will another two.
They both had commandeered their own rifles back off of those men, and they were now aimed at the remaining two raiders around their small group. 
The one in front of Joel began to move forward, only making Joel smirk as he jerked the bolt action on the rifle. “Try it.” The raider stopped, making Joel’s smirk only rise higher up his cheek. “Good choice.”
That’s when all hell broke loose. 
It was almost like someone kicked a pile of ants. The stillness of the valley you were in was broken and everyone swarmed at once. A cacophony of sounds clashing all around you. 
You went on autopilot for most of it, simply fighting for your life and that of those in your group. It could have been hours or only minutes later, but the next time you really started to pay attention, or frankly, were able to focus on any one thing in particular, you saw a raider sneaking up on Will a few paces in front of you, and you lifted the rifle you’d snagged off of one of the men you’d taken down.
“Hey, bucko!” The raider froze and turned to you with a sneer, the expression falling off his face when he came nose to nose with the muzzle of your rifle. You cocked the bolt action just for added effect, chambering a bullet as you somehow had found the one locked and loaded gun the raiders had. Hands lifted in surrender, he slowly took a resigned step backwards, grip tightening around the knife still clutched in his right hand. “Drop it,” you ordered, narrowing your eyes at his slight smirk. “Nice and easy, now.”
Will turned to see what the fuss was, his eyes going wide when he realized what had happened. He looked between you and the raider from over the bandit’s shoulder, raising a brow at you in question, but you motioned him on with a jerk of your head to the left, keeping the rifle braced on your right shoulder and aimed at the raider. “I got it. Go help the others.”
Nodding, Will took off toward the remaining chaos, leaving you with the scumbag at the end of your barrel. He started to move after Will but you tisked, taking a step closer. “Not a good idea.” The lowlife hissed through his teeth in aggravation, but you cut him off before he could even start in on an actual sentence. “Knife. Ground. Now.” With a half step forward for emphasis, you gestured toward the field underfoot with your rifle before centering your sights back on their target. 
The man arched his back away from you as you took the small step closer, his hands shooting up higher beside his head. He then began to slowly lower to his haunches to lay the blade on the grass, his other hand still held up in surrender. His eyes flitted from the weapon to something behind you, and before he could set it all the way down, or you could turn to look, an arm wrapped around your neck, cutting off your air supply.
Both the man behind you and the man in front of you laughed, cheering at your misfortune as you dropped your rifle, the weight of the weapon jerking its strap across your shoulders as it fell to your side. 
You clawed at the arm wrapped around your neck, gasping for air, and grunting as you tried to get a shot in with your elbow, but he pinned down your arms with his other arm wrapping around your torso.
A voice close to your ear leered, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’ll all be over soon.”
The raider in front of you suddenly started screaming, dropping the blade in his hand in order to clutch his knee, blood pouring violently from a wound made by a large pocket knife you’d know anywhere protruding from its side. 
“Don’t move!”
All three sets of eyes pulled over to find Joel standing just a few feet away, rifle raised and aimed at the raider now in a heap on the ground. His gun swung over to the man still holding you hostage, a dark chuckle rippling out through the chest pressed closely to your spine at the movement, and it made your skin crawl.
“Let ‘er go,” Joel said in a low voice, something dark and menacing thrown right back at the thief trying to steal your life away.
“Nah,” the man said after a minute, amusement heavy in his tone. “We’re just havin’ too much fun, aren’t we, sweetheart?” He tightened his grip around your neck as he pulled you closer, squishing his cheek to yours in mock affection.
You mumbled something as best you could, but it came out all garbled from the pressure on your windpipe.
“Aw, I’m sorry, I’m bein’ mean, aren’t I?” His tone was mocking. He loosened his grip slightly, the arm around your midsection disappearing altogether as he twisted slightly to get a better view of your face. “Now, try that again?”
“I said,” your voice was hoarse from the struggle, so you cleared your throat, shifting your weight slightly as you looked to Joel with wide eyes in mock fear. “I said-” In one smooth motion, you swung the butt of your rifle up and back, and slammed the man in the face, squinting when blood sprayed out of his mouth and onto your cheek.
Taking the opportunity, you elbowed him in the ribs, before stomping on his foot, spinning around once his arm around your neck released you and kneeing him in the crotch. 
Stepping closer to him once he fell to his knees cradling his damaged manhood, you looked down at him as you wiped his blood from your cheek with the back of your sleeve. “I said fuck you.”
With a quick jerk of your knee to his face, the raider fell backwards, out cold. You turned to face his friend who laid in a ball on the ground, hands gripped tightly around the knife still protruding from his knee.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He began to try and scramble back, looking to Joel for some sort of help as you approached.
Joel only shrugged, looking at you with wide eyes for just a moment before turning back to the poor man. “Hell hath no fury ‘n all that….”
Kneeling in front of the man, you smiled disarmingly sweet. Reaching out to grip the knife, you looked up at Joel. “This yours?” Lifting a brow at your rhetorical question, you knew very well it was his, he nodded. With a yank, you pulled it out of the man’s leg, his screams cut short when you elbowed him in the face, knocking him out like his companion.
Lifting your rifle slightly, Joel began to make a fuss, “Darlin’, they’re down-” but he stopped when you over exaggeratedly clicked on the safety, lifting a sarcastic brow at him. Rising to your feet, you wiped the blade off on your jeans before closing it and handing it back to Joel.
He took it cautiously, watching as you rubbed at your throat with a wince. “Thanks.”
“No, thank you. If you hadn’t shown up and distracted them, I wouldn’t have been able to get the jump on ‘em.”
He looked at the two men before looking back at you, his eyes flitting down to the rifle for the briefest of moments. “Looks like you would’ve been just fine.”
You leaned in closer to him, adjusting the weapon’s strap across your chest. “Take the compliment, Joel.”
He grinned softly. “Yes ma’am, Miss Fanny.”
You groaned at the nickname. “You know what? I don’t even really mind.”
It looked like Joel wanted to say more, but other members of your group came running up, looking around frantically only to find all the enemies already taken care of.
“We didn’t hear any shots,” Will said absently, staring at the two motionless forms on the ground after a wary glance. “Thought you might need some help.” After a long moment of silence, he looked from you, to Joel, then the raiders. “They still alive?” He pointed toward the men, one of them stirring with a pained moan.
“Only just,” Joel mumbled, watching the one man begin to roll to his side, the one who had held on to you, before his gaze flicked to the other, noticing his breaths becoming shallower and shallower. Gesturing to the latter with his rifle still held in his hands, he looked back up at Will. “That one’s not longed for this world if you don’t get something to stop the bleedin’. Need information from both, preferably.”
Will nodded, motioning to the others with a nod of his head, quickly moving toward the raiders.
You had turned toward Joel, your back to the men when a twisted voice rose up behind you, slurring around laughter as if it knew the funniest joke in all the world. 
“Well, sweetheart, I’m just so goddamn sorry things didn’t work out ‘tween us.” 
Joel glared at the raider over your shoulder. “Stop talking, asshole,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes as he took a step closer to the man, slightly in front of you. Turning to face the man yourself, you thought you’d steeled yourself for whatever you’d see, but the twisted smirk you were met with made your stomach drop. 
Laughter turned to wheezing, wet coughs before the man spit off to the side in front of him, blood painting the ground an ugly, violent color. He lifted his head just enough to look at you again, snickering as he peered through his lashes. “I had such plans for you….”
“I said be quiet,” Joel’s voice had grown more firm, and he opted to step to the side, obscuring your view of the creep instead of taking any steps closer.
“Oh, but they were nothin’ compared to what we were gonna do to that little friend of yours…. That blonde? Whoo! She was feisty!”
“Can somebody shut him the fuck up!” Joel bellowed, turning to the group simply standing by and watching the exchange.
Will shrugged off his outer layer flannel, balling it up as he stomped toward the man and began to shove it in his mouth.
The man weaseled back away from the cloth, shouting with wild eyes, “You’ll never find her!” His following laughter was muffled around the material, manic and unhinged.
“Will, I need you to….” Joel trailed off when you put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him to the side gently. He tried to stop you walking towards the lunatic, but you met his gaze with your own, unwavering, and he let you go, following close behind, one hand adjusting his grip on his rifle as he held it loosely just in case.
Kneeling down in front of the man, you got close to his face. “What did you do with Jane?” Your voice was so low and quiet, you barely recognized it.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The man mumbled around the shirt, eyes wild and sure of himself. 
Looking down toward the ground, you huffed out an unamused laugh. “I’m going to ask you one more time,” you lifted your gaze to look at him straight on again, “and you’re going to tell me, or else my friends are going to be not so nice to you.” The man scoffed. “What did you do…. with Jane?”
The man leaned forward, his nose almost touching yours. “Go fuck yourself, bitch.”
Without hesitation, you slammed Joel’s pocket knife you’d swiped from his jacket a moment ago into the man’s hand where it rested on the ground with your left hand, yanking the shirt out of his mouth as he screamed with your right, and tackled him backwards onto the ground, pinning your right forearm against his throat. As he struggled against your hold, you twisted the knife still gripped tightly in your hand, making him settle into the dirt.
“Okay! Okay! Okay! Fuck! Just stop!” He looked at Joel with wide, wild eyes. “Get the bitch off me!” 
You noticed some of your party moving toward you, but they stopped with a hand motion from Joel.
He studied you with an unreadable expression before looking back at the man and jutting his chin toward you. “Tell her what she wants t’know.”
“Get her off me first!”
“Talk!” You growled, digging your arm in further, making him gasp. When he turned a defiant look up your way, your knee ‘slipped’ where you straddled him and landed dangerously close to his ego once again.
“Okay, okay, goddamn!” He wheezed, collapsing fully into the ground below him, eyes fluttering shut as his face twisted in pain. 
It was all you could do to repress the triumphant smirk wanting to crawl up your face, your brows arching in amusement instead.
“She’s back at our camp. ‘Least that’s where we left her. Don’t know how she’d move much after what boss did, though.” He looked back up at you again, everything about his expression amused, and nothing seemed to dull it, even as you pressed your arm harder into his throat, only causing his words to take on a sinister hiss. “He stuck her good. You think this little knife is somethin’, you should see the one he used on-” his words trailed off on a gurgled chuckle as you continued to lean into him.
“Hey,” Joel’s calm voice near your ear made you pause, staring down at the creep. “We need him alive, darlin’. Stop.” A warm strong hand gripping your upper arm firmly made you lift off the man just slightly, glaring down at him as he sucked in a breath and started coughing, grinning up at you triumphantly. He hissed with a wince when you yanked out the knife, bringing the hand close to his chest to hold it tight with his other, and wrapped it haphazardly with the flannel Will had shoved in his mouth to stop the bleeding. 
“You Jacksoner’s are all the same,” he shook his head in amusement. “Bleeding hearts, all of ya!” He grinned up at the group in the most sinister way you’d ever seen. “And that is why you’re all gonna burn.”
At that, Joel was yanking you off the raider and pulling him up to a seated position with both hands twisted into his jacket, getting right into his face with the most menacing voice you’d heard yet. “What did you just say?”
The man just smiled a tight lipped smile, eyebrows shooting up before he used his good hand to pantomime locking his mouth and tossing away the key.
“They had a bunch of dead guns. No ammunition. How in the hell were they planning to do something to Jackson?” You mused offhandedly, mostly talking to yourself.
“Guns ain’t the only way to make somebody bleed,” the freak singsonged, looking at you gleefully.
You glared at him. “I liked you better out cold.”
He guffawed. “I liked you better up close….”
Joel gave the man a forceful shake by the front of his shirt still in his grip. “What’d I say?” The man rolled his head back to Joel with a bored look, his lips twitching up just slightly. “Y’either start talkin’ ‘bout somethin’ important I want t’hear about, or I’ll reach my hand so far down your Goddamn-”
“This one’s not doing well, Joel,” one of the party mentioned, checking the pulse of the other raider. “We need to get them back to camp.”
The man in Joel’s grip slowly melted into a wide grin. “Looks like you need me now more than ever.”
Joel began to smirk, and it made the raider’s sure grin falter. “Yeah, but that can change real quick.” He shoved the man back, rising to his full height before turning back toward you and walking quickly. A hand closing around your arm once again, you followed where it led. 
“Get them to camp. Will, get a party of four together and come with us to go get Jane. The rest of these assholes are dead, there’s no one to keep her there anymore. She probably tried to run, and if she’s injured, we need to spread out and cover as much ground as possible.” 
He stopped, looking over his shoulder when no one was moving. “Let’s go!”
When he turned to look down at you, you saw something in his eyes close to fear. “We’ll find her, Joel.”
He held your gaze as he kept moving you further away from the scene. “I know, darlin’.” He looked forward again, walking a bit faster. “I know. Now let’s get goin’. Sun’s gonna be settin’ real soon.”
Xxx
As the two of you made your way in the direction the thug had sent you in, your mind began to wander.
“What if it’s the wrong direction, Joel?”
“He said go east-”
“No, I know.” You closed your eyes briefly as you took in a sharp breath through your nose before looking forward once again. “But what if he lied?”
Joel sighed, looking down at his feet as he continued to walk. “Darlin’,” he looked deep in thought but also at a loss for words at the same time. It was such an inextricably Joel thing to do, it almost pulled a smile up one side of your face.
Almost.
Glancing over his shoulder toward the small group that was following along to help, the rest staying behind with the two assholes, he then took a step closer to you, speaking in a low voice.
“He very well may’ve.” When your eyes went wide, Joel was quick to continue on. “But,” he smiled at your now narrowed glare. “I’ve been patrolling these hills for a few years, now. Never out this far, mind you, but I know the general area. There’s a stream that runs not far from here. Anyone with any brains would camp near it. I know the worlds gone t’shit, but I refuse to believe we as a species have fallen that far that fast.”
His smile spread a little further at your soft chuckle.
“Touché, Miller. Touché.”
Grinning like a child, Joel turned back to the rest of the group, his expression turning stony in an instant. “The rest of you, fan out!” His voice was a low hiss. “Keep quiet and keep aware. These trees are dense from here on out to the creek. Keep a lookout. I’m not responsible for your own stupidity.”
Good-natured eye rolls went around as the few people spread into the trees starting to populate the clearing you’d been passing through.
Joel grabbed your arm when you went to take a step forward. “Not you.” He shook his head gently when you looked up at him. “You’re coming with me.”
“I’ll stay within sight,” you argued, pulling your arm from his grip. “I’m not a child, Joel.”
“No, you don’t-”
“I can take care of myself.” Taking a few steps forward into the tree line, you looked for any signs of life, but before you could get far, Joel’s voice was at your ear again. 
“Don’t-”
He yanked you back into him, making you stumble into his chest. Lifting your head up to glare at him, you came nearly nose to nose as he looked down at you and you looked up at him. Your breath stopped, catching in your chest as your eyes scanned his face.
“Tripwire,” he mumbled, his eyes firmly watching your lips as they moved soundlessly in shock.
“Thanks,” you finally managed, closing your mouth and clearing your throat.
Joel nodded.
You went to take a step back, looking over your shoulder towards the trap, but his grip on your upper arm wouldn’t let you move. 
Turning back to look at him in question, your curious expression melted when you found him even closer than before, his eyes cast down as his nose lightly bumped the side of yours.
The distance continued to close, only a breath left between you when a faint scuffle then a thud was heard, making you both pull apart like lightning.
Turning, the two of you saw Will suspended upside down by his ankle from a nearby tree.
“Careful. Tripwire,” you grinned.
Will smirked sardonically, arms coming to cross over his chest after batting away his flannel outer layer that hung in his face since he was inverted - he’d dug out a spare from his bag after using his original to shove into the mouth of the crazy raider. “We found a blood trail.”
The smile fell off your face as your gut sank. “That’s-”
“A good thing,” Will cut you off. “Means she was moving. She was alive.” After a loaded moment of shared looks, he cleared his throat. “Can someone cut me down, please? I’m getting woozy.”
Xxx
You only encountered a few stragglers at the camp, Joel earning some bloody knuckles and you a black eye, but the remaining members of the bandit group lay in lifeless heaps at the feet of your group when it was all said and done. There was no chance for prisoners, they weren’t going to be taken alive. 
Which meant that one idiot back at the camp who’d tried to kill you had to stay alive if you wanted any answers.
The thought of that made you start to hyperventilate. 
Which wasn’t like you.
You took everything in stride, this new world required it, but suddenly you felt his arm around your neck again, and you began to claw at the phantom limb, gasping for air as tears began to stream silently down your face.
You couldn’t look anywhere without seeing a body, violence, bloodshed….
Can’t breathe….
Everything blurred by as you faintly registered your feet moving you forward, a warm hand around your forearm pulling you gently along before the firm press of tree bark met your back with a gentle thump.
The soft trace of rough, callused fingers making their way past your cheeks to rest behind your ears drew a shiver from your bones. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re good. It’s over. I’m here.” Joel’s mumbled words vibrated somewhere in front of you, desperately grasping at you to give you something to hold onto. Cradling your face in his hands, Joel stood toe to toe with you. He took a small step closer and leaned down, pressing his forehead to your own as you fought for air. “Nothing’s gonna get you. I won’t let it.”
The phantom touch of that asshole’s arm around your throat still constricted your airway, threatening to make the world cave in.
Joel reached up to gently grab your hands still frantically clawing at your throat, placing them on either side of his ribcage, and you clutched onto his flannel under his jacket for dear life. The warmth from his body heat radiated into your palms and sent a wave of something down to your toes. Worrying the threadbare fabric between your fingers mindlessly, Joel seemed to notice and step even closer still, enough that a deep enough breath would close the distance. 
Though, as you thought about it, how he still had room to maneuver any further into you was a mystery, you didn’t even know it was possible. It seemed like every part of you was wrapped up in every part of him.
His voice drew your thoughts back to the present. “Hey, hey. Shhhh…. No more. He’s gone.” Did his voice just crack? “It’s over.” His voice grew a little firmer, if not quieter. “It’s over.”
If only he knew, you weren’t struggling to breathe because of the remnants of a panic attack anymore. No, now it was his proximity. His warm breath fanning across your face as he mumbled words of peace. The press of his skin against yours as he cradled your face so gingerly.
Time stopped, the world ceased its spinning, and suddenly all that was left was this right here between the two of you. This quiet moment, in the middle of a forest, painted in violence and hope, in fear and tenacity, in…. Vibrant shades of both of you.
Will walked up around the tree quietly, clearing his throat softly. “Some of these men were dead long before we got here.”
“Jane,” you smiled. 
“That girl sure is a spit fire,” Joel remarked with his own grin, pulling away from you just slightly, but still keeping you in his hold.
Turning to Will, you steeled your shoulders. “Take me to the blood trail.”
Xxx
It took all of ten minutes of tracking to find Jane leaning against a tree with her back to you, heaving breaths as the right side of her shirt was stained crimson. The violent splotch was spreading, whatever wound obviously still angry and weeping under her white shirt, her outer layer long gone and forgotten in the chaos by now. 
“Jane?” You called out softly from several yards back. A twig snapped under foot, causing a flock of birds in the trees above to startle and take flight in a whir of wings and wind.
She whirled around, knife held out in front of her at the ready, eyes wide and wild from the adrenaline. When she realized who it was, relief washed over her features so strongly it brought tears to your eyes. She dropped the blade to the ground with a clatter and slumped the side of her shoulder against the tree with a huff.
“Took you long enough,” she breathed in amusement, turning so her back was to the tree with her head thrown back, her face toward the sky, wincing in pain.
Before you could even make a move towards her, Will was there helping her back to her feet, scooping her up bridal style and carrying her back towards camp, her head on his shoulder as she went limp, finally able to rest.
Will glanced back when no one else moved. “Come on!” He whisper shouted. “She needs help as soon as possible, or I’m going to-” He caught himself. “We’re going to lose her.”
As the group moved in unison behind a speedwalking Will, you glanced up at Joel in amusement. “Do you think he knows?”
Joel shook his head with a grin. “Everyone else does, so no, probably not.”
You chuckled, despite the situation. It was probably the relief that she was alive finally catching up with you. “That girl’s got his number.”
Huffing a laugh, Joel looked at the back of Will’s head as he rapidly disappeared at the front of the group. “Wrapped around her little finger like those little things she uses to protect herself when she sews back at her shop. Oh, what’re they called?”
You stared at him for a long moment before quietly suggesting in hesitation, “Thimbles?”
Joel slapped his thigh before pointing at you with a renewed grin. “That’s the one!”
With a shake of your head, you turned back to face forward and head up toward the front with your friends. “Ellie was right. You’re losing it, old man.”
“Ain’t old,” he grumbled, his face instantly turning sour. “Jus‘ ‘xperienced.”
“Then you should know all the words, Joel.” You smirked. “No excuses.”
“I do know all the words,” he groused. “That’s the problem. I know too much, my brain can’t keep up.”
You turned to face him, walking backwards. “Sure. That’s the problem.”
“I know things,” he shot back, echoing your words from earlier, his head tilted back to look down his nose at you in a mirror image as he continued to mock your earlier statement. “Lots of stuff.”
“Oh, I see,” your tone was condescending, but playful as you mimicked him right back. “Stuff.”
“And things.” He was trying so hard not to smile.
You were not, letting the grin spread broadly across your face. “Oh, we mustn't forget the things….”
“Yeah, okay.” Joel looked to the side to try and hide his amused grin. “Fuck you, darlin’.”
“I mean, if you’re offerin’….”
His head snapped back to look at you in surprise as you threw his words right back at him yet again. Joel opened his mouth to refute, but you cut him off with a grin. 
“I’m going to go make sure he doesn’t promise her his house or something. Boy would give her half of Jackson if he could.”
“He can have your half, you jackass,” Joel grumbled playfully as you turned back to face the front of the group. “Mine ain’t for sale. Don’t care how pretty you are.”
You glanced over your shoulder, fluttering your lashes ridiculously. “You think I’m pretty?”
“I meant her,” Joel gestured to your friends with his rifle still loosely gripped in his hands, strap slung over his shoulders, at the ready just in case, like always. “Ain’t nothin’ pretty ‘bout what you just said.”
“I only spoke the truth.”
“You’re only makin’ it worse.”
Xxx
The sun was setting by the time Joel was able to pry you away from Jane. You hadn’t wanted to leave her side as Will took it upon himself to treat and dress her wound. 
You held her hand as she grunted in pain while he disinfected the area with a bottle of alcohol someone had brought, then stitched it up. Luckily the blade had missed anything vital, and hadn’t been rusty, thank goodness.
So far this whole trip had been getting by by the skin of your teeth, and that didn’t bode well with you. 
Once she fell asleep, Joel coaxed you over to a clearing not too far away for a breath. A bucket full of water from the nearby stream had been brought to wash the blood off your hands.
Staring down at the water as it turned pink under your touch, tinged with the blood of your friend, you looked up when a shadow crossed over the little bit of sunlight left in the day.
Joel stood just in front of the dying light, backlit and a silhouette as he extended a…. rock? to you.
“That creek is fed from the mountains. Snow melt. Coldest thing around. Best alternative to ice we’ve got right now.” You narrowed your brows at him, making him sigh in frustration. “For your eye,” he said as if it were obvious. 
“Oh,” you said dumbly and took it, lightly resting it against your left eyebrow where you felt the worst of the black eye forming. The cool, smooth stone instantly offered some relief for an ache you hadn’t even realized you had, making you groan softly, and shut your eyes with a grateful sigh. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “Mmm-hmm.” The side of his mouth twitched up as he lowered himself to the ground beside you with a quiet groan. “T’ain’t nothin’.”
Pulling the stone away to examine it for a moment, you arched a brow when Joel slowly pressed it back to your head. “Don’t work if you don’t keep it there, darlin’.”
“Really?” You said as sarcastically as you could muster.
“Huh-uh,” he confirmed with a gentle shake of his head, keeping the stone pressed firmly to your skin. “It’s not a comfort by osmosis thing.”
“No healing by proxy?” You groused, despite the smile working its way up your face, your one good eye squinting from the held back laughter you were just managing to reign in as you looked up at him.
The corner of his mouth lifted so high a dimple creased his cheek. “Now wouldn’t that be somethin’,” he mused softly. 
The two of you sat in comfortable quiet for a long moment, his hand still holding the rock to your head gently until you finally decided it was time to break the silence.
“So what’s the plan from here, Mr. partially-in-charge-of-security?”
Joel’s hand fell from you with a sigh as he shook his head slightly in disbelief, his gaze turned forward as if he couldn’t even bear to look at you after an attempt at a joke that bad. “I’ve been goin’ over it in my head since we left their camp-”
“That must’ve been painful,” you muttered, grinning innocently when he cut his eyes over to you.
They shut briefly with another loaded sigh before they fluttered open and he turned to look at the forest on his right while he continued. “Best I can come up with-” he held a finger up in front of your face without a glance back your way. “I don’t wanna hear it.”
You stared at his finger inches from your nose. “I wasn’t-” You totally were. 
The finger began to wag as his head rolled back to level you with a look. “Now, we both know that’s a lie, darlin’.” You shrank under his continued stare and he went on. “Best I can think of is to send the majority back home since we’re still so close to Jackson. Have them protect Jane and those two raiders we got to interrogate.” His arms were propped up on his bent knees, and his fist clenched at the mention of the thugs.
After he stared off vacantly for a moment, he brought his gaze back onto you. “That means the cart is going to have to go back with them, though. Jane’s in no condition to walk, and you did a number on asshole number one.” He chuckled. 
“Don’t even worry about the cart,” you waved him off. “Jane is more important. What about asshole number two?” Rubbing your throat absently with the hand not holding the rock to your head, you stared into the trees straight ahead before you realized what you were doing and lowered your hand, turning your gaze back to Joel. “He can still walk just fine.” You tilted your head in thought for a moment. “May be a little bit more of a waddle, but….”
Joel chuckled darkly, hanging his head as his shoulders shook with the laughter. Finally he looked up at you through his lashes, a conniving expression twinkling in his eyes. “Let the little ugly duckling waddle back, then.”
“How will we be sure he doesn’t waddle off?”
“I’ve been known to tie a knot or two in my day.”
As the novelty of the whole situation wore off, you turned to face Joel a bit more fully, letting the hand that held the rock fall from its spot against your face to rest in your lap, ignoring Joel’s scowl in protest. 
“You said most of the group. Joel, we should all go back. Safety in numbers. Making sure everyone is safe is more important than my paint-” 
“Safety in numbers. Exactly. That’s why most’f’em are goin’ back. We only need a few t’do this run. It also made us a target bein’ such a big group. The council made a shit decision ‘bout that. There’s a reason patrols’re only two people.” He looked out at the woods again. “It was temptin’ to leave it just the two’f us as originally planned, but, after yesterday, even you could see the perks’f havin’ a few extra people should somethin’ happen.”
“Quality not quantity.”
Joel bobbed his head, his eyes shining proudly as you understood. “‘xactly.”
Something wasn’t sitting right. “But what about the threats, Joel? They said somethin’ about Jackson was gonna burn….”
“People say all kinds o’shit when you’ve got a pocket knife in one hand n’your knee pinnin’ their crotch to the dirt.”
You let out a snort, unable to contain your laughter at his blunt explanation. “Can’t say you’re wrong there.”
Joel leaned back with a contented sigh, propping his arm up on his bent leg. “I’m never wrong.”
You let out another snort of laughter, more bubbling up and out when he shot you a glare. 
Xxx
That night, just as the sun began to set, Joel slammed the back tailgate of the cart shut after helping Jane up into it.
“You good?” He asked quietly, his voice soft and kind.
“I’ll be fine. Thank you, Joel.” Jane reached out a hand to rest on his shoulder. 
“Not worried ‘bout you, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his eyes darting over to the wounded raider sitting as far from him as he could get in the front corner of the cart. The bandit cowered under his stare but stayed silent. “Was more worried ‘bout him.” Joel looked at Jane pointedly as he explained, his head tilted forward while he looked at her through his lashes and arched brows.
“Like I said,” Jane spoke firmly, her voice low and even as she turned to look at the asshole, making him cower even further. “I’ll be fine.”
“Whaddabout me?” The second bandit who had tried to choke you said loudly and amusedly from where he stood behind the cart a few feet away from Joel, his hands bound by one end of rope and the other end tied to the back of the cart. “Do I get a send off from tall, dark and brooding?”
Joel turned to him without even fully looking at the man, cocking his rifle as he spoke on a tired sigh. “That can be arranged.”
The raider guffawed as he stumbled back a few steps, Joel striding forward the ground he lost, while you stepped in between, hands extended.
“Stop. There’s no time for this.” Turning to face Joel, you lowered your arms. “Joel, let the little shit leave.”
The raider’s voice rose behind you like a forgotten tendril of smoke, thin and pungent, just enough to remind you it was there. “Ain’t nothin’ little ‘bout me, darlin’.”
Without a second thought, you whirled around and clocked the thug in the eye, making him stumble back further, the rope stretching to its limit and yanking him forward to his knees.
“Except your brain, apparently.” You shook out your hand to your side, the impact from the punch leaving a searing sting across your knuckles. “You don’t get to call me that.”
“What do I get to call you then?” The man sneered, bringing his bound hands up to swipe at his face.
You took a step closer, smirking, and enjoyed how the amused sparkle in his eyes faltered slightly at the sight. “Whatever you say when you’re begging for your life, tough guy.”
The man swallowed nervously, despite his narrowed eyes of contempt. “I don’t beg for anything. From anyone. ‘specially not you.”
You let your eyes travel up and down the length of him slowly in an unnerving appraisal. “We’ll just see about that. Won’t we, Joel?”
“Lookin’ forward t’hearin’ just how loudly he won’t beg….” Joel mused behind you.
“Fuck. You,” the man hissed.
“No. Thanks,” you sneered back.
Will pulled your attention away as he stepped up on the wheel of the cart to lean in beside Jane, his weight making the whole thing squeak under the pressure. “Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you to keep this asshole in line?” He jerked his head toward the guy tethered at the back.
Jane smiled and patted Will’s cheek lightly. “I think I’ll be just fine. Like I told Joel.” Her eyes flicked between the two of them. Her voice sickly sweet. “Now if you two don’t stop coddling me, one of you is going to be injured and sitting beside me on this trip back to Jackson. So shut,” she looked at Will, “your,” Joel, “piehole.” She looked at you.
You raised your hands in surrender. “Me? “ They turned out in question. “What did I do?!”
She shrugged, her head tilting just slightly. “It was preemptive.” Leaning towards Will again, she kissed him on the cheek, smiling when he began to sputter and turn six shades of red. “Stay with Joel. He needs you here more than he’ll admit.”
“I heard that,” Joel grumbled, walking past the end of the cart as he began to check in with the rest of the group.
“Good. You were meant to,” Jane grinned, lurching slightly as the cart began to move forward, Will jumping from the wheel before it could turn fully.
As the bandit walked past Will, he turned to him with a sadistic grin. “Don’t I get a goodbye kiss, handsome?”
“Sure,” Will said with a disarming smile, making the other man stumble for a moment. The next he was stumbling further after Will sucker punched him in the mouth. “How was that? Was it good for you, too?”
The raider in the cart was looking on wide eyed, but you caught him grinning slightly at the exchange, looking away quickly to try and hide it when Will glanced his way.
Jane was laughing as the cart began to disappear into the sunset. Her head thrown back, eyes closed, hand over her stomach type laughter. “Don’t make me laugh! It hurts!”
Will gave a dopey grin as he watched them disappear into the dying light, Jane and the bandit tied to the back of the cart bickering back and forth about nonsense that you couldn’t quite make out at this distance, but you could tell she wasn’t taking any shit.
“She’ll be okay.” You walked up to Will, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah, I know.” He was distant, his mind a million miles off. “I know.”
Xxx
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earlgraytay · 1 year
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The Author's Darling
So I follow a lot of people who post a lot about OC/self-insert positivity. And that's genuinely great. I love people's OCs and self-inserts. But occasionally, I will see someone, in an attempt to Defend The Honour of OCs and self-inserts, defend a particular kind of writing mistake. And that pisses me off, because it does everyone a disservice.
There are plenty of people who write OCs and self-inserts who do not make this writing mistake, and equating the two is unfair to every OC writer who works hard at their craft. There are also plenty of people who write canon-character-only fanfic or original fic who do make this mistake-- and that hurts both them and their potential readers.
The mistake I'm talking about? Writing a sort of character I'm going to call an Author's Darling.
I'm going to talk about what Author's Darlings are, why they're bad, how you can avoid writing one, and what an Author's Darling isn't. I put a cut in this post, because it's long.
What is an Author's Darling?
An Author's Darling is a character who cannot fail at anything that matters to the author of their story.
What this looks like in practice depends on the author-- different authors prioritize different things. Some authors think their Darling should be stone-cold badasses and never lose a fight. other authors are fine with their Darlings getting knocked out every time they try to throw a punch, but would be very upset if their Darling got rejected romantically.
Plenty of characters succeed at most things they try. Superman wins most of the fights he takes on, but he's not necessarily a Darling. But if you look at a character and you can say, "oh, this character would never lose a fight", or "everyone loves this character and would never get mad at them"? You've got an Author's Darling on your hands.
And- especially in fandom- a character can be a Darling in the hands of one author and a perfectly fine character in the hands of another. Steve Rogers/Captain America is an example of a character who gets Darling-ified a lot. Captain America is supposed to be a shining example of The Best that humanity has to offer- he's virtuous, strong, brave, and oh so pretty. It's easy to fall into the trap of making him incapable of failing at whatever you want him to do, whether that's "punching a lot of Nazis" or "supporting Bucky in his recovery". But a lot of writers manage to thread the needle and write Cap as the lovable, flawed person he's supposed to be.
Why are Author's Darlings bad?
Well, two reasons:
Writing an Author's Darling is a really good way to give yourself writer's block, especially when it comes to the plot. If your character can't fail at anything important, this means that it's really hard to build tension. If your character is going to automatically succeed at anything that's important to the plot, all you're writing is "and then they win, and then they win, and then they win". It can get pretty monotonous pretty quickly, especially if you're writing genre fiction. You can run out of ideas, or your inner critic can go "this isn't how stories work???? the FUCK???" and block your creative flow. If your character can't fail at anything- important or not- it's hard to come up with a good story for them at all. You know how sometimes you get a character rattling around your head but you can't get a plot for them at all? One of the first steps in fixing that is making sure you're not writing an Author's Darling.
Writing an Author's Darling makes people not want to read your work. Now, look. I know everyone says "you should write for yourself, and screw anyone who says otherwise!" But let's be honest here: it sucks to spend hours working on a piece of writing, post it, and then get, like, 2 hits and no kudos, or 1 tumblr like from your friend who likes everything that crosses their dash. It's incredibly demoralizing. Author's Darlings are one of the big factors that make people stop reading a story. As soon as a reader gets the sense that the protagonist can't screw up- that they're "too perfect"- the tension in the story is gone. There's no reason for them to keep reading, because they know the character's just going to Press The Win Button And Win. So they'll click out without saying anything, and you'll wonder why no one's reading your fic.
What isn't an Author's Darling?
This section is haunted by the ghost of Mary Sue. If you're reading this list and you're new to fandom/young, you might wonder why I'm calling out certain specific things; this is a fandom war you missed, don't worry about it.
An Author's Darling is not a character of any specific gender. Male, female, and nonbinary characters can all be Author's Darlings.
An Author's Darling is not necessarily an OC. In the current fandom climate, it's way more likely that a Darling will be a 35-year-old canon male character the writer calls "babygirl".
An Author's Darling is not necessarily a self-insert, but it's really easy to make a self-insert into a Darling. There's a reason people recommend that newbie writers avoid self-inserts- it can be really hard to write a character based on yourself that screws up something important. It takes a lot of vulnerability and courage to write, and it's not something you want to show everyone.
An Author's Darling is not an "overpowered" character or a "cool" character. Your character can have sixteen katanas and do air dashes and still not be a Darling- and your character can be a powerless human in a superhero setting and be the biggest Darling to ever Darling. Having "too many" powers or standing out "too much" in the setting is often a symptom of a Darling- if you don't want your character to fail at anything important, and being The Coolest Person In The Room is important to you, you're going to make your Darling overpowered and good at everything. But it's not the thing that makes an Author's Darling bad.
An Author's Darling is not a 'perfect' character, or a character without flaws. There's a lot of overlap in the Venn diagram, don't get me wrong... but you can load up a character with "flaws" that don't matter to you. A lot of dudebro male writers, for example, will make their Darlings emotionally constipated, mean, and Bad At Relationships. These genuinely are character flaws... but these writers don't give a flying fuck about the character's relationships. They're happy to let their Darling fail at this stuff to prove he's FLAWED!!!- but try and make them write a fight scene their Darling loses, and they'll break out in hives.
Why should I care? Writing is supposed to be fun, and writing characters failing is not fun for me.
Writing is a craft. It is no different from knitting a sweater, making a stop-motion film, or trimming a bonsai. There are ways to do it well, and there are ways to do it poorly.
It can be fun and rewarding to knit a shitty sock with holes in the heel where you forgot how the pattern works and weird lumps in the calf. It is more fun and rewarding to get good enough at knitting that you knit socks you can wear.
Similarly, it can be fun and rewarding to deliberately write stories about overpowered Author's Darlings that are boring to read for anyone who isn't you. But it is more fun and rewarding to get good enough at writing that you write stories other people will want to read.
And you know, maybe you don't care about that. Everyone needs a hobby that they're bad at and have no interest in getting better at; it keeps you humble. Maybe writing is yours.
But plenty of writers do care. And tarring every writer who writes OCs and self-inserts with the same brush- the brush of "this is supposed to be fun! we're writing deliberately bad things! yay!"- is an insult to anyone who writes OCs and cares about their craft.
If you want to write well, you should be aware of what an Author's Darling is, and if possible, you should try to avoid writing them. If you don't care about writing well, that's fine- but please avoid implying that every OC or self-insert character is badly written in this particular way.
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star-girl69 · 1 year
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Your last chapter warmed my heart 🥰🥰 could I request a Jake x Human!reader x Neytiri where there helping reader with period cramps and it’s all cuddles and fluff. 🥰
Jake and Neytiri with a Human!Fem!Reader on your Period
a/n: thank you so much anon!! 🫶🫶
i’m in my headcannon era so i just did these in that format i hope thats okay!!
warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of menstrual cramps
ok going off the idea that the na’vi don’t have periods bc i think that’s cute
you don’t explicitly tell them at first
maybe they just pick up on your cravings
or you get a really bad cramp
if it’s the second option they both think you’re dying for a sec
like it’s not even their fault you are and human and you are a lot more fragile and susceptible to sickness than them
and then you’re just like “no… i’m just on my period”
jake is like “oh okay do you need anything?”
poor neytiri is so confused
she still thinks you’re dying 😭
then you just have to give her a little human anatomy lesson and she’s like
“that’s horrible”
“true!”
they keep asking if they can help but at first when you don’t really have any really bad cramps or anything there’s nothing really too be done
then finally one day it hits you
just all the hormones all the cramps everything
jake is freaking out
like he knows what periods are but he didn’t know they were THIS PAINFUL??
they act like doctors and put you in bedrest
“i’m fine-”
“no”
“seriously,”
“no”
“come on-”
“no”
eventually you just sorta give up
and like okay that’s sweet and endearing but like jake and neytiri are still doing their chores and stuff and you’re just in the hammock like 🧍‍♀️
when you try to get up to just even walk around neytiri full on hisses at you
“IM FINE???”
“NO”
they’re really just kinda confused and think this is the best for you
jake is kinda like like “i’m not so sure this is how it works”
but in neytiri’s mind it’s just “you’re losing blood so you should conserve your energy and all that”
and jake is not about to fight her on this
he values his life
eventually you’re just like “i’m bored and my stomach hurts”
and then they climb into bed with you, neytiri tells you stories about her childhood and random tales passed down by the generations
have we seen jake’s hands
i just know they’re just huge and always so warm
so he places his hand on your stomach (more like your entire abdomen)
and acts like a heating pad
also kinda off topic but if you were a human these two are TERRIFIED of crushing you when you sleep like actually
so most of the time you have to like literally sleep on top of them or else they get all paranoid
it’s so sweet honestly
so you’re probably laying on top of jake on your back, his hand on your stomach, and neytiri’s on her side running her fingers through your hair
this is making me tear up man
you guys probably spend the rest of the day like that
neytiri kinda thinks your so badass
keeps telling you how strong and brave you are
you’re literally melting bc omg
and jake is just calling you all the cutest pet names and saying how much they love you and how perfect you are
definitely the type to say “you were made for us”
they’re just trying their best tbh
but it’s just so cute and sweet and they just love you so much
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