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punkshort · 4 months

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look what we've become - ch.9

Chapter Summary: Joel nurses you back to health and you come to a startling realization about your future together.

Chapter Warnings: language, descriptions of some injuries, fluff, protective Joel, soft Joel, little bit of angst, lots of feelings, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering

WC: 6K

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

After arriving back in Jackson, you ended up spending nearly three weeks in the infirmary. Your injuries were worse than you thought. From what you could remember, Bill said you had some internal damage along with several fractures and sprains. The cut in your leg was infected, but fortunately Eugene's group did manage to successfully trade for the rest of the antibiotics before everything happened in Salt Lake City.

You ended up sleeping quite a bit in those weeks, but Ellie told you later that Joel hardly ever left your side. She had said she would get into arguments with him, trying to convince him to take turns at your bedside so he could go home and rest, but he refused.

"I don't know which one of you is more stubborn - you or him," Bill mumbled to you as he gently removed the IV from your arm. You chuckled, your eyes finding his broad form outside your bedroom talking quietly with Tommy, just out of earshot.

"Definitely him."

You were grateful Bill let you go home, but he insisted on doing house visits twice a day until you were on your feet. Most of your superficial wounds had healed but you were still very tired and weak. Bill could see improvement every day, and he said that's all that mattered.

On his way out, Bill stopped to check in with Joel, no doubt updating him on your condition and any medicine he would have to administer for you. You watched his face as he listened intently, his brow furrowed as he looked down at the bottles Bill handed him. You had to stifle a giggle when you saw him squint at the label and hold it further away from his face.

While Joel and Bill continued to talk, Tommy slipped past them and into your room, giving you a grin as he plopped down in the chair next to your bed.

"Lookin' good," he said, making you laugh and then wince, gingerly touching your ribs.

"Liar," you said, and he chuckled, his eyes raking over your face, taking in the scabs and yellow bruises with a sigh.

"Just wanna let you know, we cut off all trades with 'em," he said, his voice taking on a serious tone.

"I figured. I know they had a lot of things we could use - "

"We'll find those things somewhere else. Not worth it," he said, cutting you off.

You nodded and cast your gaze to the side.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he replied, tapping his foot on the floor. "Maria said she was gonna stop by later after work, you think you're up for it?"

"Yeah, of course," you said, although you honestly couldn't tell these days. It seemed like you fell asleep at the drop of a hat.

"How's Ellie?" you asked him. Whenever you asked Joel, he frustratingly just gave you the most basic information. She's fine. She's in school. Think I saw her with a couple girls the other day.

"She's adjusting real good. She's been stayin' with Julia, but I'm not sure it's a permanent solution for either of them." He eyed you carefully as your gaze drifted over his shoulder at Joel, who was walking Bill down the steps to the front door. "You got any ideas?"

"Me?" you asked, looking back to him now and raising your eyebrows in surprise. You knew what he was implying, and he just nodded.

"I would love it if she wanted to stay here, but I'm pretty sure Joel wouldn't like that, and I really don't want to push him right now. He's so stressed, Tommy. I can see it in his eyes. He's not sleeping well, and I'm worried about his blood pressure -"

"Have you talked to him about it? About the kid?" Tommy asked, and you shook your head.

"No, but he made his feelings pretty well known when she first got here."

"Lots happened since then. He might surprise you," Tommy said, standing up with a grunt. You frowned and opened your mouth to question him further when Joel walked through the door, his gaze falling on his brother.

"Just headin' out, don't worry, I know she needs her rest," Tommy said, sneaking you a wink as he headed towards the door. You thanked him for visiting and listened to them walk down the stairs, their voices fading the further they got until the door closed and all that was left was Joel's heavy footsteps slowly coming back up. He reached the door and leaned against the frame as he gave you a small smile, but you could see how exhausted he was. His eyes looked bloodshot and his shoulders sagged.

"Come here," you whispered, and he quickly pushed off the wall to come to your side.

"What'dya need, sweetheart?" he asked, glancing at the cup next to your bed, making sure it was still filled with water. "Hungry?"

"No," you said, shaking your head, but he looked at his watch and mentally did the math.

"You'll have to eat somethin' soon with your meds, what can I make you?" he asked, and you shook your head again.

"Can you please just lay with me for a while?"

He hesitated but you reached out to drag your fingertips against his wrist, urging him closer to the bed, and he gave in.

"Alright, only for a few minutes," he said, rounding the end of the bed and collapsing onto the covers with a groan, sliding his eyes closed in relief.

"I wish you'd rest more," you murmured after you gingerly rolled yourself onto your side so you could look at him. "I'm worried about you."

He chuckled and turned his head to the side to look at you in disbelief.

"You're worried about me? You're jokin', right?"

You reached out to lightly brush a stray curl away from his eyes, choosing not to reply. You knew it would be a losing battle anyway.

"Can't rest," he said, staring at you with his eyes all soft. "I'm not sure I'll ever be able to rest again."

"Why?" you asked, your brow furrowing.

He shook his head, his eyes still pinned on yours and you watched them slowly fill with tears. You gave him a look of concern and inched a bit closer to cup his face, the pad of your thumb swiping over his rough beard as you waited for him to open up.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered, his voice thick as he tried to hold back his tears. "It's all my fault, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault -"

"I keep lettin' you down. Over and over again," he continued, a tear slipping down his cheek. "And I just wanna tell you that I understand now. 'Bout all of it. Why you're so scared 'bout havin' a family or gettin' married. And it's fine, I won't bring it up again, alright?"

"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" you asked, searching his face for answers.

"I can't - " he paused and took a deep breath before trying again. "I can't take care of us. I thought I could but it's clear I can't when all this bad shit keeps happenin'. But if you'll still have me, I'll be right here, okay? I'll take whatever you wanna give me, I don't care 'bout any of that other shit anymore. I just want you."

"Slow down," you said, trying to wrap your fatigued mind around what he was saying. Your grip on his jaw tightened before you continued. "You never let me down, do you understand me? You are the only fucking thing that kept me going the past few years. Without you, I would be dead. I would have died that very first day. I owe you my life, Joel. How do you not see that?"

He just shook his head, refusing to accept what you were saying, so you kept going.

"I should have just been honest with you, but it took me a while to figure out why I was so scared about - "

"You don't need to explain - "

"Let me finish," you said, and he clamped his mouth shut. "It's not you, Joel. Well, it is. But not for the reason you think."

He frowned, blinking back tears as he waited for you to continue.

"It's because I love you so much that it scares me." You could feel your own tears forming now, but you tried to push through. "If something were to happen to you out there and I was left all alone, I don't know how I could go on." You swiped away a few tears that fell as you spoke. "And I'm terrified of getting married because if you die, that day will haunt me, Joel. Every single year when the anniversary comes, I - "

You stopped for a moment, your breaths coming in short gasps. He tried to shush you and pull you closer, but you shook your head.

"I'm not strong enough," you finished with a small sob. This time, you let him pull you into his chest while his big hands cradled the back of your head, patting down your hair, soothing you.

"Does that make sense?" you blubbered, pulling back to look at him.

He nodded slowly, his eyes raking down your face.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Thought I wasn't gonna get you back after they took you. Thought I lost you forever."

The two of you sat in silence for a minute, lost in each other's eyes, the truth finally spoken and swirling around the quiet room as you both clung to the other, just grateful to be alive.

"But you did get me back," you finally said, breaking the silence. "You did that. You saved me. Again." You ran your finger gently over his bottom lip and he gave the tip of your finger a little kiss.

"You might think you can't keep me safe, but in reality, you are the only reason I'm still here." The puzzle was finally piecing together in your mind as you spoke.

"That's not true," he said immediately. "Every situation that's put you at risk could've been avoided if I had protected you more. I wouldn't have to save you if I didn't put you in harm's way in the first place."

"But this is the world we live in, Joel. None of us will ever truly be safe ever again. And it's not because of something you did. It's just a really shitty hand we were all dealt and now we have to figure out a way to make the most of it and survive." You paused for a moment, something in your brain finally clicking as the words came tumbling out.

"We can't let fear run our lives," you said softly.

He looked at you, your gaze fixed on the wall behind him as what Maria said so long ago finally made sense. It was like you were seeing through the fog. Like a weight was lifted off your shoulders and you could breathe deeply for the very first time.

It took you and Joel to finally have a raw and honest conversation, but you thought you understood what she meant now.

"You okay?" Joel asked, clearly confused. You let your gaze fall back to him and you grinned.

"Yeah," you said breathlessly, then tugged him forward so you could press your lips against his, your fingers curling around the back of his neck to hold him against you.

You weren't afraid anymore.

A few days later, you woke up to the sound of the front door downstairs swinging shut. Your eyes snapped open and you strained your ears, trying to listen to the muffled words through the closed bedroom door.

"Told ya to be quiet, she's tryin' to sleep," you heard Joel say.

"Sorry, the fucking wind took the door from me and this stupid backpack is so heavy. Why do I even need to go to school? Who cares about this stuff anymore?"

"I do, 'cause it keeps you out of trouble and outta my hair."

"Ha, yeah right. You know both those things are impossible, old man," you heard Ellie scoff.

"How the hell old do you think I am?"

"The way you can barely read the instructions on the back of that pasta box? You don't want me to answer that."

You grinned as you listened to the two of them bicker amongst themselves. You weren't sure when it happened, but at some point in the past several weeks, Joel and Ellie finally seemed to have a breakthrough in their relationship. You wanted to ask, but you didn't want to draw attention to it. The two of them were so alike in so many ways that you knew if you pointed it out, they would pull back and stop making progress. So in the meantime, you just enjoyed listening and watching them whenever you got the chance.

With a small grunt, you pushed yourself off the mattress and swung your legs over the side of the bed, taking a moment to catch your breath before reaching out and using the end table to support your weight so you could stand. Walking was getting easier; the worst part was still the healing gash in your thigh. Bill said the knife one of Amy's men used must have cut through some muscle, so you were slowly building your strength back up by taking very short walks around your bedroom every day.

With small, careful steps, you managed to get to your bedroom door and open it quietly, listening to Ellie helping Joel make spaghetti in the kitchen while she told him about her day. You stopped at the top of the stairs and peered down.

"Ellie?" you called out softly.

You heard a spoon clatter on the counter and Joel's heavy footsteps jog to the foot of the stairs. He looked up at you with a towel in his hand, worry etched across his face. Ellie quickly joined him and looked up at you with a grin.

"What's wrong? Why're you up?" Joel asked, taking the steps two at a time.

"Nothing!" you said with a smile as he reached the top and wrapped an arm around you gently to help steady you. "I just wanted to see Ellie."

"I thought you were asleep," she said, bounding up the stairs.

"C'mon, let's get back to bed," Joel urged. You sighed and allowed him to lead you back to the bedroom, but you chose to sit on the edge of the bed instead of getting back under the covers like he clearly wanted you to do.

"Come on, tell me what's going on out there. Joel's not much of a gossip," you told Ellie with a wink, and Joel huffed somewhere behind you, fixing the sheets.

"Well, Maria wants to get married the second you're back on your feet. Says she wants to do it before she starts showing," Ellie started, and you felt the mattress dip with Joel's weight next to you.

"Yeah, she told me that already. What else? How's school?"

"It's alright. I met a few girls, we hang out sometimes."

"That's great!" you told her, happy that she was acclimating well. "How's Julia?"

Ellie sighed and rolled her eyes at the mention of the older school teacher who graciously let her live with her.

"She's nice, but she's just got such strict rules. I've gotten into it with her a couple times when I was late for curfew," Ellie admitted, looking down at her fingers twisting in her lap.

"It's important that you listen to her, y'know. She's just lookin' out for you," Joel said softly, and you had to tuck your chin against your chest to hide your smile. He was so sweet with her now, like he had known her his whole life, and it took some time getting used to hearing it.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Ellie said sullenly. "I just get so bored. She spends her evenings planning her lessons or knitting. Knitting! It's so quiet over there, I feel like I'm going to lose my mind."

"Well, why don't you move in with us?" Joel asked with a shrug. Both you and Ellie froze, your eyes widened in shock. You slowly turned your head to the side to look at him, unable to form words.

"What?" he asked, swiveling his head back and forth when neither of you said anything.

You were about to respond when Ellie jumped up excitedly, about to wrap her arms around Joel's shoulders, then stopped herself.

"Really? Can I?" Her eyes darted between you both, a huge grin plastered across her face.

"Yeah," you said breathlessly with a nod. "Yeah, of course you can." You tried your best to blink back the tears that were quickly forming.

The three of you heard some hissing coming from downstairs and Joel leapt up, muttering about the water for the pasta as he clattered quickly down the steps, leaving just you and Ellie.

"Holy shit," she said, still grinning.

"Uh, yeah, 'holy shit' is right," you said with a chuckle.

"You didn't have anything to do with that?"

"Me? Nope," you said, quickly shaking your head. "Although it was on my mind, I just never found the right time to talk to him about it."

"Wow," she muttered, sitting on the bed next to you. "Guess he doesn't hate me, after all."

"Told you," you said, nudging her shoulder with your own.

You sat in silence for a moment, deep in thought while you listened to Joel muttering to himself in the kitchen. A smile played across your lips at the sheer domesticity of it. A feeling that you never thought you would get to experience just fell into your lap when you least expected it.

"I never got a chance to ask," you began, and Ellie turned her attention back towards you. "Does anyone else know?"

She shook her head.

"When you were passed out in the truck on the way back, Joel told me he had to tell Tommy and Maria but then he got so distracted with you at the infirmary that I guess he never got around to it."

You hummed and nodded, wondering if Joel truly forgot or if he changed his mind. Either way, you knew it would have to come out some day, but you had hoped it would be on Ellie's terms.

"And what did he tell Tommy? About the Fireflies?"

"The truth. Well, mostly. Just left out a few things. He told him they were working on a vaccine and that they kidnapped you, obviously."

"But how did he explain why they took me without telling him they really wanted you?" you asked, your pain killers making it tough to keep up.

"I told them they took people to experiment on," she said. "I thought that's what they were doing, anyway, at first."

You chewed your lip for a moment, eager to learn more but careful about pushing her too far.

"How did you guys find me?" you finally asked. You had tried to get the story out of Joel multiple times already, but he kept dodging the question, and the curiosity was getting the best of you.

Ellie's body stiffened next to you. She straightened her back as she took a sharp inhale of breath.

"He didn't tell you?"

You just shook your head slowly.

"Well, we, uh, went back to my aunt and uncle's house," she said, dropping her eyes to her lap. "He figured out they were the ones who called the Fireflies to come take you. Or, I guess me, but whatever."

"Oh," you said softly. You hadn't expected Ellie to know about any of that.

"It's alright, Joel told me after you were taken. That you thought they might've sold me off," she said, as if reading your mind.

"Ellie, I'm so sorry," you said, but she just shook her head.

"It's fine," she said, but you could see in her face she was hurt. After a moment, she added "it worked out in the end, right? I found you guys."

You gave her a tight smile as you felt the swell of emotions rising up your chest, squeezing your throat. You cared for Ellie so deeply that you were almost inclined to agree with her. Even though you were just as happy to have her in your lives, it still made you sick to think about what she had to endure to get there.

Then, you realized Ellie never elaborated about their return visit. You glanced over at her and wanted to ask, but decided against it. She looked upset enough, and if it was anything like you saw at the hospital, you preferred not to bring it up.

Joel startled you both by appearing silently in the doorframe.

"You girls ready to eat?"

Girls. The way he said it warmed your heart.

"So long as you didn't burn it," Ellie said teasingly as she stood up from the bed. "I'll bring some up for you," she said to you over your shoulder as she headed down the stairs.

"C'mon, lemme help you get back in bed and I'll get your tray," Joel said, but instead you held out a hand to stop him, making him look at you.

"Thank you," you whispered, cupping his face with both hands.

"For what?"

You smiled at him and he lifted an eyebrow at you, amused but curious.

"For giving me a family."

It took a few weeks, but your bones eventually healed and you were able to get back to work. Maria would only schedule you for half days and you argued that you could do more, but by the time you got home after only four hours, you had to admit you were exhausted.

Bill told you it would take some time for you to feel like yourself again, that it was completely normal and that you would need to build your strength back up. You had to constantly remind Joel you needed to start doing things for yourself, but he would still do whatever he could to keep you from getting up too much.

Joel heard you sigh from the bathroom and within seconds he was in the doorway, buttoning up his dress shirt with a tie draped loosely around his neck.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," you said quickly as you continued to stare into the mirror and fidget with your hair. "I can't get my hair to look the way I want it."

"I think you look beautiful," he said, sauntering over with his shirt still untucked to wrap his arms around your waist from behind, gazing at you in the mirror while he planted a quick kiss to your neck.

You sighed and tilted your head to the side, encouraging him to explore your neck more. You arched your back just a bit, pushing yourself back into his hips, causing his arms to stiffen around you.

"No funny business," he murmured against your skin, and you grinned.

"Not even a little funny business?" you teased, and you felt him chuckle lightly against your back.

"Nope. We're gonna be late," he said, pulling back suddenly but giving you a small tap on your ass with his palm before he walked away.

You glanced at the time and gasped quietly. He was right. Tommy and Maria's rehearsal dinner was in ten minutes, and even though it was just a handful of you at their house, you still didn't want to be late. Maria spent too much time planning this wedding and the last thing you were interested in doing was setting off the short fuse she had developed over the past couple weeks.

Quickly, you put on some old lipstick and fixed your dress before turning off the bathroom light. Joel was just finishing up knotting his tie, leaning forward a bit with his lips parted as he watched himself carefully in the mirror above your dresser and you had to resist the urge to push him down on the bed right then and there.

Ever since your energy slowly began coming back, so did your desire for Joel, but he was adamant about waiting until you were feeling better, which just left you feeling crazier by the day. You weren't sure if it was because you were finally on the mend, or maybe it had something to do with your breakthrough with him, but you found yourself feeling a lot needier than usual.

"Ready?" he asked you before running his fingers casually through his curls once more and walking over to you. You nodded, your lips pressed together as you glanced down at the blue shirt and navy slacks he picked out.

"You look good," you told him, your tone suggestive. He smirked and took your hand, leading you out of the bedroom.

"Ellie, we're leavin'," Joel called out to her, ignoring your compliment. "There's leftovers in the fridge!"

"Okay!" she called out, the sound of her music softly flowing through the floorboards as you made your way downstairs.

"Should we bring any pain killers in case you start gettin' sore?" Joel asked.

"No, I'll be fine."

"You sure? 'Cause-"

"Alright fine, we can bring them," you relented, just eager to get out of the house at this point. You pocketed them in your small purse and the two of you headed out towards Tommy and Maria's house, luckily arriving with two minutes to spare.

"How are you feeling?" you asked Maria as she greeted you with a warm hug.

"Me? What about you?" she said with a laugh.

"Oh, I'm fine! I want to hear all about you and what the future hellraiser is putting you through."

"She ain't fine," Joel said behind you, turning his head away from his brother. "Bill said-"

"Bill said I need to work on building up my strength. To me, that's fine," you told him, and he rolled his eyes.

"You two are so alike, it's scary, you know that?" Maria asked, leading you into the kitchen for a drink. You smiled and waved when you saw Carrie and Jake, along with Eugene and another woman who you thought was named Tina, but you couldn't quite remember, rounding out the rest of their wedding party.

"So really, how have you been feeling?" you asked her, taking the glass of wine she offered you.

"Nauseous, but it's getting a little better. And tired. Oh my god, I'm so tired all the damn time, it's crazy!"

"Oh, wow," you said, taking a sip before adding "you aren't even showing yet. How far along did Bill say you were?"

"I'm close to the end of the first trimester, thank god. He says that's when the nausea usually goes away and I should get some energy back," she said, checking the oven briefly before straightening back up. "But enough about me. How are you two?" she asked, nodding subtly towards Joel in the living room with Tommy and now Eugene.

"Better. Much better. We had a good talk after we got back, and I think we're on the same page," you said, glancing around the room at the others, making sure they were out of earshot.

"What page is that, exactly?" she pushed with a smirk.

"He's okay with not getting married or having kids," you replied with a noncommittal shrug. She narrowed her eyes at you and you frowned. "What?"

"Is that what you really want, though?"

"Well," you said, glancing around once again before lowering your voice. "I've come around to the whole marriage thing, but I don't really know how to tell him. I feel like I keep jerking him around and I don't know what to do."

"You need to be honest with him," she said immediately, and you rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but I just made this huge fuss -"

"It doesn't matter. This is your life, you have to do what's right. He might be confused at first but you know he will be so fucking ecstatic he will forget all about it, right?"

"Yeah, I guess," you said, glancing over your shoulder to watch him laugh with Tommy, a glass of whiskey in his hand. "I just need to figure out how to tell him."

"And kids?" she asked, causing you to whip your head back around.

"I'm not there yet. But maybe one day," you finally admitted, making her squeal out with excitement and causing the rest of the guests to look your way.

"Sorry! The chicken just came out perfectly!" Maria said with a giggle. You laughed with her as you locked eyes with Joel and he raised a curious eyebrow at you. You shrugged and gave him a quick smile before turning back to Maria.

"Alright, enough of that. What can I do to help?"

"You sure you ain't in any pain? Maybe you should take somethin' before bed," Joel said as he watched you wince when you leaned over to take your heels off.

"I'm okay, I promise. It's the damn shoes," you explained, sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing your calf. "Was I this annoying when you were hurt?"

"Worse," he said with a grin before sitting down next to you and taking your legs over his lap, his own fingers taking over, rubbing the sore muscles and doing a far better job.

"Thank you," you said breathily as you closed your eyes and leaned forward so your head was resting on his shoulder. You sat in silence for a moment, his strong hands digging into your calves, content to be in your shared home with Ellie safe and sound, right down the hall.

"Joel?"

"Hm?"

"Something's different," you said softly, your eyes still closed.

"What'dya mean?" he murmured, his lips pressed against the top of your head.

"I feel... safe," you said, opening your eyes a bit and staring at the wall across from your bed, his fingers still working your legs.

"That's good, baby," he whispered.

"No, I mean..." you paused, searching for the words, not sure how to say it. "I mean I'm not scared anymore."

His fingers paused as he absorbed your words, trying to figure out what you were saying.

"That's... good," he repeated, not quite understanding. You sighed and tilted your face up to look at him, your arm stretching up to wrap around his neck, pulling him down for a soft kiss. Another time, you thought. You'll figure out how to explain it another time.

You slipped your tongue past his lips, your fingers raking through his hair as the hand that was once on your calf slowly migrated up past your knee and to your thigh. Greedily, you nipped at his bottom lip and leaned backwards so you were flat on the bed, Joel partially on top of you while your lips moved faster, leaving quick, desperate kisses against his mouth.

"Hang on," he whispered, but you kept going, your heart slamming in your chest. Now that you felt him on top of you again, it was sparking a fire between your legs.

"What's gotten into you?" he asked jokingly, pulling back a bit and pinning your wrists into the mattress, your chest heaving.

"Please, Joel," you begged, not caring how pathetic you sounded.

"C'mon, you know you ain't ready yet. You're still healing," he mumbled sweetly, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.

"I am ready," you promised, but he just shook his head.

"We got a big day tomorrow," he whispered in your ear before sitting up, his weight no longer pressing against your upper half. "Let's just go to bed."

You pouted as you sat up next to him and he grinned.

"Ain't gonna work on me, sweetheart."

Then, an idea occurred to you. You shrugged and stood up, walking towards the bathroom as you slowly unzipped your dress, letting it pool at your feet only when you were in the safety of the small room. You turned around, hand on the door, only wearing your underwear as you took in Joel's slack jawed expression, his eyes slowly raking up and down your nearly naked frame.

"I'm gonna shower," you said quietly, his eyes still glued to your body. "You wanna join me?"

You could see the conflict in his face, trying so desperately to hold back and keep a clear head.

Finally, he forced himself to shake his head. You pouted again then shut the door, but not before sliding your underwear down your legs first, giving him a little show.

The water had barely gotten warm enough to step under the stream when he ripped open the shower curtain and stepped into the tub. You looked at him and smirked.

"I thought you said -"

He silenced you with his mouth covering yours, pushing you up against the cool tile while his knee slotted between your legs and his hand slowly drifted down your stomach. You gasped and smiled against his mouth when his fingers pressed exactly where you needed him.

"You need me that bad, huh?" he murmured against your mouth, and you nodded.

"Yes," you whined, arching your back off the wall, your wet body pressing up against his as his fingers dipped inside you and dragged them back out, smearing a mix of your arousal and water expertly over your clit.

"Can't be too loud, now," he reminded you, swallowing your breathless moans as his fingers circled faster. Your nails dug into his shoulders, holding on tightly as he brought you to the edge way too quickly, months of not being touched by him finally coming to a head.

"Joel," you whispered, burying your face into his neck as you felt the muscles in your stomach tense. He wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you up just in time. Your legs went lax, your arms and Joel the only thing keeping you upright as you felt the coil in your belly snap, your sounds muffled against his skin and the water beating down around you.

"Better?" he asked when you finally found the strength to hold yourself back up. You nodded, your eyelids drooping, but you still slid your hand down his stomach. Right as you were about to wrap your fingers around him, he stopped you.

"Not tonight," he said, and you frowned. "It's late. We gotta get to bed."

If you weren't so exhausted, you would have put up a bigger fight. You leaned into him as he gently massaged shampoo into your hair, your eyes closed, blindly letting him direct you under the water to rinse before he got started on your body, his strong hands spreading the soap over your skin in circles.

He helped you get out of the tub and wrapped you in a towel as he dried your hair, his own body dripping water all over the floor. You lazily watched him work, a slow smile creeping across your face. He noticed and raised an eyebrow at you.

"I like it when you take care of me," you explained, and you swore you saw a little bit of pink dust his cheeks. He led you to bed, tucking the cool sheets around you as he brushed your damp hair away from your eyes. "Want you to take care of me forever," you mumbled as your eyes slid shut. He smiled, then his hand froze as his lips pursed in thought.

I feel safe.

I'm not scared anymore.

He finally understood what you were trying to tell him, and his heart began to flutter excitedly in his chest.

Tag List @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow @amyispxnk @plz-be-solo @iloveramensm @caitlynsixxx @anoverwhelmingdin @harriedandharassed @jessthebaker @txtattoostark @merz-8 @sarahhxx03 @oscarissac2099 @motherjoel @silas-222 @b3l1nd5 @rocket-raccoon-silvie @missladym1981 @angie2274 @maried01 @ashleyfilm @alltheotps @mybworlds

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delusionalfanficwriter · 4 months

Text

accident

The morning sun cast a soft glow over the streets of Seattle as Y/N drove to her training session for USWNT. The familiar scent of coffee filled the air, but her mind was focused on the upcoming game and the challenges that lay ahead. As she approached an intersection, the traffic light turned red, forcing her to come to a stop.

Just as the light turned green, Y/N accelerated, her mind still occupied with thoughts of tactics and strategy for the game. The intersection was busy, cars moving in various directions. However, in the blink of an eye, a distracted driver ran a red light, colliding with Y/N's car from the side.

The impact sent Y/N's car spinning, metal crunching against metal. The sudden jolt left her disoriented, the world spinning around her. As the chaos unfolded, she heard the distant wail of sirens, and through the haze, she saw the familiar faces of Maya hopping out of the fire truck and the Station 19 team rushing to the scene before her eyes started to close shut.

Maya takes in the scene, her eyes fall on the license plate number she has seen dozens of times. Her mind jumps to y/n, who she knows is in Seattle for the game coming up later in the week. The y/n who she and Carina took under their wing after she showed up several times to clinic days. They opened their home for her until she was steady enough to be on her own and when she isn’t with USWNT she is home in the UK playing for Arsenal.

Panic and concern etched across her face, as she sprinted towards Y/N's car. Reaching the damaged vehicle, she instantly saw y/n out cold. Reaching for the door handle, it wouldn’t budge. “Fuck! Guys it’s y/n. We need the jaws of life to remove the door and maybe even windshield for more access.” Travis went to grab it as Warren and Andy came with the med bag as they were on Aid car 19. “Y/n, I’m not sure if you can hear me but I need you to try to open your eyes. It’s Maya. You are going to be okay.”

Maya makes the decision to break the backseat window and enter through there before crawling front to the passenger seat. Andy did the same but remained behind y/n as she helped stabilize her neck with a c-collar after Maya checked for a pulse.

With all the hands touching her, y/n started to stir awake, moaning in pain. “Shhh. Y/n, it’s going to be okay, just try to remain still for us.”

Hearing the familiar voice, y/n turned her head as much as possible with the collar on to the source. “Cap…” She whispered.

“Hey there, kiddo. You took quite a big hit. Andy and I are in the car with you. Can you tell me if you are in pain and where?” Maya scans over y/n as y/n thinks the question through.

“Um. My head is pounding and the light makes it worse. Chest might be bruised… Maya…” y/n’s facial expression changes into a panicked one.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?... Y/n talk to me…”

“...legs… I- I can’t feel my legs. Maya- no no…” Y/n begins to spiral as realization hits her.

“Y/n, I need you to listen to me and breathe. We will figure it out but don’t focus on that right now. I need you to get your breathing under control.”

Warren assisted Travis in preparing the jaws of life while Maya focused on Y/N's immediate needs. Andy opened the med bag, retrieving equipment to monitor vital signs.

"Y/N, I need you to stay with me. Andy's going to monitor your vital signs, and we'll make sure you're as comfortable as possible," Maya explained, her voice a steady presence in the chaos. “Nice deep breaths.”

Andy secured an IV line, administering fluids to address potential shock. Maya continued to assess Y/N's chest and abdomen, searching for any signs of internal injuries.

"Good job, Andy. Let's keep an eye on those vitals. Y/N, I need you to let me know if anything feels off or if the pain increases," Maya directed, her focus unwavering. “Y/n pay attention to me. Eyes on me. We will worry about your legs when we pull you out.”

“Cap, my legs are everything. You know that.”

“I know, Y/n, I promise I know.” Maya is reminded of how soccer saved Y/N life and helped lift her from her rough past.

As Maya reassured Y/N, the situation took a dire turn. A faint hissing sound emerged from beneath the wreckage, followed by the acrid smell of gas. Maya's heart sank as she realized the danger they were in.

"Warren, Travis, we've got a gas leak! We need to get Y/N out of here, now!" Maya's voice cut through the chaos, urgency evident in every word. With adrenaline coursing through their veins, the team intensified their efforts.

Travis and Warren redoubled their efforts with the jaws of life, while Andy swiftly prepared Y/N for extraction, mindful of the looming threat of fire. Maya coordinated the rescue operation with precision, her training kicking in as she assessed the risks and devised a plan.

Suddenly, a spark ignited the volatile atmosphere, and flames erupted, engulfing the front of the car. Time seemed to slow as panic surged through the team. Without hesitation, Maya made a split-second decision.

"Grab Y/N, we're getting her out, now!" Maya commanded, her voice unwavering despite the inferno raging around them. With synchronized movements, Andy and Maya carefully lifted Y/N, their actions swift yet deliberate.

“Stop it-it hurts! Maya, stop!” Y/n screamed and cried as her body was hastily carried out of the vehicle.

“I’m sorry, Y/n but we need to leave now!” Maya screamed over the chaos. As they lifted y/n out and placed her on the stretcher, they ran as Vic and Jack foamed over the gas leak.

“Leah… I was on a call with Leah before.” Y/n suddenly remembered having her girlfriend on the other end of the line before the crash.

“Don’t worry, I will call her, right now.” Maya climbed into the back of the ambulance, her eyes never leaving Y/N. "You're doing great, Y/N. We're right here with you," she said, her voice filled with reassurance.

Andy followed suit, bringing the medical bag and equipment into the confined space of the ambulance. Y/N's eyes darted between Maya and Andy, seeking comfort in their familiar faces amidst the uncertainty.

“Speaking of the devil, Leah is facetiming me.” Maya says unlocking her phone but as the ambulance doors closed, Y/N's panic resurfaces. The confined space and the realization of the severity of the situation weighed heavily on her. "Maya, I can't... I can't breathe. It's too much," Y/N gasped, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

Maya quickly grabbed an oxygen mask from the medical bag. "Y/N, slow your breathing. This will help," she said, placing the mask gently over Y/N's face. "Deep breaths. In and out."

“What’s happening? Maya what happened to Y/n?!” Leah yelled through the phone panicked by Y/n’s panic.

“Y/n look who I have on the phone, wanting to see you.” Maya tries to distract the woman in front of her. Y/n pauses for a second to see her blurred girlfriend on the screen.

“Baby, you’re going to be okay, Maya is with you and I am sure Carina will meet you in the hospital. I’ll be on the next plane over.” Leah reassured y/n.

“Leahhh,” Y/n cried. “I can’t - can’t feel my legs. I’m so scared.” Leah pauses and a panic look crosses over her eye but she tries to remain as calm as possible.

“Wait until the doctor’s check you out, it could just be from slight inflammation. Just focus on what Maya says. She is with you and looks like Andy is there too. You are gonna be fine, baby just remain calm.”

“Leah, we are pulling into the ambulance bay in a minute so I am going to hang up and get her sorted for the medical staff. I’ll call you back as soon as I can.” Maya tells Leah knowing how protective she is of her girlfriend. With that Leah gives another word of love to Y/n before canceling the call.

“I texted Carina as well, I am not sure if she’s in surgery or not but she’ll come to find us once she sees it.” Maya informs y/n knowing she is able to calm down more when Carina is around. “We are almost there, but it’s going to get chaotic. Just breathe, it’ll be alright.”

The ambulance pulls up and doors open to reveal Amelia, Bailey, Kepner, Teddy, and Carina.

“What do we have?” Bailey starts.

“23 year old female in a MVC, airbags deployed, head laceration, possible spinal injury, she says she can’t feel her legs. C-spine precaution taken. Y/n had two panic attacks already and is in pain but no pain meds given as unknown head trauma...” Andy trails off.

“Alright, trauma 2.”

Y/n is rolled in as everyone takes on a role and several hands are trying to assess her injuries to the full extent. Y/n takes her deep breaths as she reminds herself they are here to help her.

In the entrance of the room Maya whispers to Carina, “Carina, she said she can’t feel her legs. I tried to stay calm for her but it’s never good. She was freaking out…”

A loud groan of pain takes them out of their moment as they see they have turned y/n on her side to check her back before placing her back down. Amelia does a head work up and then moves down to y/n’s legs. Carina steps closer to y/n for support as Amelia asks her if she can feel her touching her feet.

“I can’t feel it.” Amelia moves up the leg and to the knee. “Nothing.” Amelia moves mid-thigh. “I barely feel that.”

“Okay, don’t worry, we will get a CT scan and check you out. Might just be inflammation on the spine that will go away.” Amelia reassured the girl Carina took under her wing.

“And what if it doesn’t,” Y/n asks the question she knows the answer to.

“Let’s see what the scans say and we will take it from there.” Amelia places her hand on Y/n’s hand but she pulls away.

“I’m going to be sick.” With that, y/n turns her body as much as possible and only dry heaves.

“Bambina, you are stressing yourself out. I know you are worried about playing soccer, hell even walking but one thing at a time. You can’t think of what ifs. I am here now. I will make sure things are in order. Maya and I will be there for you every step of the way. I am going to need you to practice the breathing exercises. I don’t want them to sedate you but if your panic gets in the way…”

“No, no I promise.” Y/n cuts her off and closes her eyes trying to regulate her breathing. The team talks to her about the next steps of imaging and makes her a priority case.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #uswnt fanfic #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #carina deluca #maya bishop #station 19 #greys anatomy #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #andy herrera

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neoflect · 1 month

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sharing some of my disorganized jojo musical thoughts now that ive had a week to sit on it and ive rewatched it several times over. i intended to wait to publish something like this until a subtitled version was available, but im not seeing any indication that thats happening any time soon so for now youll have to deal with my loose interpretations from my extremely rudimentary and rusty japanese… so take what i have to say about the finer points of characterization with a grain of salt. gratuitous spoilers below obviously, both for the original source material and the changes made in the stage production

my feelings are OVERWHELMINGLY positive. of course there are things i can criticize or that i would have personally done differently but oh man… i have literally not thought about anything besides this fucking show for a week. im 100% confident in saying this is a better adaptation of the source material than the tv anime. sorry to the davidpro staff, i respect their hard work and their love for jojo and their dedication to what is by any metric a pretty difficult property to adapt off of the page, but i dont know if i can ever forgive them for leaving half of the first episode’s storyboard on the cutting room floor in order to fit a standard half-hour tv slot, especially considering that what they cut is some of the really crucial character-building stuff. happily those scenes are not only reproduced in the stage version, some of them are expanded upon!

with the quick disclaimer that i’ve only managed to get my hands on the final 4/14 performance with shotaro arisawa and yoshihisa higashiyama, from what i’ve seen the casting is perfect. i’m sure there’s a rip of the 4/13 performance somewhere (i’ve seen clips) but i haven’t been able to find one… every single performer knocks it out of the fucking park, the cast chemistry is incredible and even the minor characters are loaded with charisma. and mamoru miyano… my god… mamoru miyano i owe you an apology. i was not familiar with your game. of course hes been killing it for decades at this point but i had soured on him a little bit recently because i felt like he was overcast in everything and i just didnt connect with his dnt reinhard at all, so when the casting was initially announced back in august i was underwhelmed, and of course my standards for the dio role in particular were astronomically high… i’ll go more into detail later in the post because i have so so many things to say about dio’s characterization here but mamoru miyano’s performance is like, life-changing. i had impossible expectations and he exceeded them.

sorry if im gushing. i am a hater by nature. its unusual for me to be so thoroughly pleased with something. im not even a musical theater guy. these are strange new feelings for me.

just to balance things out i’ll talk about a couple of the things that didn’t really work for me: first of all, the music is just ok. my initial draft of this post called the music “bad” but three additional viewings later i have warmed up to some of the songs. i don’t know if this is a shortcoming by dove attia as the composer or if it’s just me, as i said i’m not a musical guy and a lot of the genre conventions of musical theatre are not really the things i look for in music that i enjoy, but like… even at their worst they are serviceable. nothing here is sonically unpleasant to me. high points are “resolve of the ripple” (zeppeli’s hamon training song, a jazzy swing number - it’s simply catchy and fun to listen to) and the closer “phantom blood” (a sweeping ballad that reprises the earlier “light and darkness”/”golden spirit” leitmotifs into an epic duet between jonathan and dio as they join hands and walk off into the darkness together… made me cry! i wont lie! on every single one of my numerous viewings this one got me misty eyed!)

wait i forgot this is supposed to be the part where i’m being critical. ok my most loathed song in the musical is “dio’s world”. sorry dio nation. it doesn’t really work for me. i think this might be a case of my standards/expectations being too impossibly high because it’s not even really the worst song in the whole thing. and of course miyano eats it up so it’s not really his fault. i just find it kind of underwhelming… i find the melody a little grating, it’s kind of just a generic rock number, it’s just missing a particular je ne sais quoi…. the essence of dio isn’t there… lyrically though i am obsessed with the premise of dio recruiting his minions by selling himself as a kind of social revolutionary who is upending and inverting the brutal hierarchy of post-industrial victorian society with zombie blood magic. you win some you lose some.

the second sticking point for me is the costumes. they’re perfectly serviceable… adequate… but i mean when it comes to jojo “serviceable” and “adequate” costume design obviously falls well below what’s expected, right? a lot of the outfits have kind of a boxy, almost flat-looking kind of unflattering fit on the actors, which if i wanted to be generous i could attribute to the challenge of bridging the gap between these frail slender musical theater twinks and the two-meter-tall 250lb roided-out beefcakes theyre meant to be embodying. (bearing this discrepancy in mind a lot of the insane martial arts stuff in the second act doesn’t really land with the oomph that it should, but i also understand logistically why this kind of casting is not practical, and all things considered i think shotaro arisawa does a really incredible job of embodying jonathan joestar even though he kind of looks like i could snap him in half over my knee like a twig. he’s very cute. so i’m not mad about it.) of course, again, logistically, i understand that in a stage musical production, where actors only have minutes to complete costume changes, some sacrifices have to be made to the creative vision in the name of practicality. nevertheless this is jojos bizarre adventure!! i want to see some fucking baubles!!!!!!

which is all to say that… after carefully considering it for some weeks… i still have extremely mixed feelings about dio’s grink ass feather bathrobe look. it’s not that i dont think its something he could wear (the concept of dio lounging around in his gothic vampire palace doing re-animator style body horror experiments on the local wildlife in this “officer i have no idea what happened to my husband”-ass nightgown is nothing short of hysterical to me) but then he wears it into combat and i felt a little disappointed… it has the same unflattering fit issue as the other outfits in the show, and it is just such an un-araki-like design… where are the gaudy color combinations? the bizarre geometric patterns? the tease of an exposed boob/thigh/midriff? erina gets a stage-original dress design that i have fewer issues with because the excessive pleats and ruffles have more of an araki-esque sensibility, but every time i look at dio’s robe it feels like there’s something missing. i’m going to choose to be nice about it because it’s not at all a deal breaker and, again, mamoru miyano devours the look. it’s fine. it’s always fun to have a new dio outfit. if anything, the fact that the blu-rays are being marketed as “2024 cast version” gives me hope for the possibility of a future production with a new vision for the costume design. (although the fact that this was such a difficult production - with stunts and pyrotechnics and moving setpieces - that its entire first week was cancelled indicates to me that the prospects for a future production from a different company are impossibly slim. i guess there’s always hope?)

in terms of the writing and the changes that were made from the original narrative, honestly i don’t really have an issue with anything that was cut. sorry if there are any diehard stans of Poco’s Unnamed Sister out there who are steamed that their favorite minor late phantom blood character got the axe, i kind of understand how you feel because i’ve been malding over david pro cutting the Danny Lore for eleven years, but i think it was the right choice and the story flows so much better. the real juicy meat at the core of phantom blood as a narrative and the thing that brings it head and shoulders above so much of the rest of jjba is the character-driven drama - that deliciously pulpy victorian gothic family tragedy - and the relationship between jonathan and dio. the musical beefs up the character drama and slims down the action-driven second half by trimming out the extraneous battles. the only real downside i see to this is that the absence of tompetty and his prophecy makes zeppeli’s arc and death feel INSANELY abrupt, but tbf that’s not a deal breaker for me. sorry zeppeli. you were born to die.

okay. okay. i think 1500 words into the post is enough fucking around so let’s talk about the real reason why you and i both know we’re here

musical dio is SO fucking sad. he’s positively wretched, you guys. he was born in a wet cardboard box all alone and forced to eat cement when he was six. he cries even more than he does in the source material and even when he’s not crying he frequently delivers his lines as though he is moments away from bursting into tears. back when the musical first opened i was snooping on the reactions on jpn twitter and one commenter said they could see miyano’s tears and snot from the nosebleeds even without opera glasses, a remark i initially assumed was hyperbole but that i now think probably was not. araki’s dio is certainly tortured and a deeply pathetic crybaby beneath all the cruelty and posturing, but changes in the musical and miyano’s embodiment of the character bring this pathos to the fore. he is literally haunted: dario’s ghost lingers, a manifestation of all of dio’s traumas and insecurities that emerges from the recesses of his memory to taunt him with the reminder that he will always be his father’s son, all the way up until the very minute that jonathan breaks down the door to his vampire lair. i am OBSESSED with this - not only for the obvious reason that i delight in dio’s suffering personally but also because kong kuwata is a delight and he fucking kills it every time. also lends itself to a category 10 leitmotif moment at the top of the second act when dio emerges from the charred ruins of the joestar estate singing dario’s theme and calling out to jonathan - if i had to pinpoint this is probably the moment when this musical stuck for me as the Real Deal. they Get It.

the first solo number in the show is dio’s disney princess I Want song (amazingly, simply titled “dio”) where he weeps for his late mother and his wretched lot in life, and then - in a creative decision that made me clap my hands and hoot and holler at my screen in real life - there is a reprise of this number (delivered, naturally, through tears) when dio is almost arrested for murder and decides to become a vampire instead. so there’s this amazing hopeful uplifting inspirational orchestral music accompanying the onstage action of dio ruthlessly slaying jonathan’s dad and then getting pumped full of lead by a bunch of cops. it is brilliant. 10/10 no notes. it’s moments like this that i think really sell the “softening” of dio in the stage version for me, even though i am historically Not A Fan of fanworks that take a similar angle - like, yes, he is sad, but specifically he is narcissistically obsessed with the spectacle of his own suffering, he is boiling over with bitterness and rage for everyone around him who (by his own estimation) could never hope to have suffered as much as he has. this sensitivity and self-pity he wallows in are not expressions of a guilty conscience or a desire to change - they’re entirely the opposite - every cruel and monstrous deed dio commits is always justified to himself because he is simply the saddest little boy who has ever existed. he has been done wrong by the world and so there is no limit to the depravity he may reasonably respond with. i’ve seen several commenters describe this as a drastically different interpretation of the character from araki’s dio (and someone told me on twitter that mamoru miyano himself has also said this, but i cba to go digging for an actual source so take it with a grain of salt?), but i… dont think thats the case! dio’s obsession with his own weakness and his self-perception as the eternal underdog (as compared to jonathan) are certainly more exaggerated in miyano’s performance, but i don’t think this is an angle to the character that’s been manufactured out of whole cloth. the genre conventions of the stage musical force the melodrama up to eleven and dio’s incredibly repressed angst is the most rich vein to mine for that. hair-trigger sadist dio is still here, it’s the same guy, he’s still killing people mercilessly, you’re just getting to see him sing a big ballad about his feelings instead of confining those to an internal monologue.

if anything, the exaggeration of dio’s pathetic/cowardly/crybaby traits combined with his megalomaniacal aspirations and bottomless well of cruelty is just right. it’s perfect. fucking around, finding out, and then trying to weasel his way out of the consequences with crocodile tears just so you don’t see him drawing his knife to cut you clean open… yeah. thats the stuff. thats my one true blorbo. sad to say i will love him for ten thousand years.

i think that might be all i have to say… or at least all i feel like saying here… most likely ill come back and edit this post later. i certainly have some additional thoughts and some more esoteric/controversial takes but they’re not suited for a public blog. real ones will understand. im keeping my eyes peeled for somebody to translate this thing but to be frank i am kind of enjoying this little corner of fandom as it is right now: just the asians and the true hardcore phantom blood phreaks. i have not had this much fun in jojo fandom in almost a fucking decade. as soon as somebody publishes an english version my timelines going to get flooded with all the most deeply annoying “kono dio da” “speedwagon waifu” reddit guys and 15 year olds and my suffering will proceed. unfortunately this is my lot in life and i am doomed to be here forever because dio put a worm in my brain

#⚰️#jjba tag for blacklisting purposes but i dont want this in the main tag

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vikkirosko · 3 months

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Can I request headcannons with poly huskerdust x reader who is like of wonyoung from ive?

(Job and appearance wise)

🕷 Angel Dust x Reader x Husk headcanons Wonyoung 🥃

Angel, Husk and you were known in Hell, albeit in different ways. Angel Dust was an adult film star, Husk was a former overlord, and you were an idol. Your songs have been listened to in different parts of Hell. And very few people in Hell knew that the three of you were in a relationship. However, at the hotel you could not hide your relationship

You, even though you were in Hell, strictly monitored your diet, but when Angel was having a hard time, you and Husk went to his aid. You brought several different ice cream buckets and Husk brought alcohol and you spent time together. You tried several times to tell Valentino everything you thought about him, but Angel stopped you. There wasn't much you and Husk could really do to help, so you tried to be there for him and support him at least emotionally

For your two most beloved men, you got the best tickets to your concerts. Angel always supported you during concerts with a big smile. Husk behaved more calmly, but still smiled softly, watching you, with a radiant smile on your lips, dancing and singing. You really looked mesmerizing when you performed. After your performance, Angel gave you a lot of compliments. Husk spoke less, but his words meant a lot

On weekends, you and Angel had a spa day. On such days, you made each other face masks, rested from all sources of irritation and just relaxed. Several times you managed to convince Husk to join you. At first he was against it, but when you managed to convince him, he didn't regret it. It really helped to relax after a hard week

There were rumors about your relationship in Hell, but none of you three cared. Perhaps one day you will say right from the stage that you love these two, but so far you have been silent. Your relationship did not require public disclosure. You gave them your love, and Angel and Husk gave their love to you and each other

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel headcanons #Angel Dust #Angel Dust x Reader #Husk #Husk x Reader

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 6 months

Text

A/N ::: Things are out of whack. So I'm writing ☺(smol-ey = smol smiley). This song has been on 100% repeat for the last several hours of my life and heavily inspired what is below. This is only Part I and I don't know how many there will be. But I've taken quite a few notes on it. I would just say be ready for more.

SFW ::: C/W ::: A-n-g-s-t & language. (aged up) ProHero!Katsuki x F!reader, things didn't turn out like either of them thought and they're doing their best to move on. But can they? Do they really even want to?

WC ::: Just under 700

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

He called you at 8:04 that morning. And while you didn't answer, you did do him the courtesy of listening to his voicemail.

Katsuki's voice was gruff and rough around all of the edges. He didn't like that you probably looked at the phone when it began to ring and you either flipped it over or pushed the volume button to silence the ringtone that you two had so sweetly picked out together when you first got together 3 1/2 years ago.

The sound took you back to that time when everything was new and fun and so simple that you thought it would be like that forever. But you were harshly reminded that if things don't change, they will most likely die. It would take a miracle to figure out where, along the way, did you both change so much that you couldn't live together anymore.

"Oi, I know you're sitting there looking at your phone, listening to that fuckin' stupid little song we picked out on our 11th date. Yeah, course I remember. Anyway, uh, whatever. I mean, you needa come by and get the rest of your stuff outta here. I -” You heard a muffled sound as he tucked the phone away and yelled at someone. “- hold the fuck on, can you not see that I'm on the fuckin' phone? Jesus. Uh, um, oh. Get the rest of your shi- uh, stuff today. P-please. I'm off today and won't be home between 9 this morning to about 6 or 7 tomorrow morning. That should give you more than enough time to get everything. Ok? O-ok. Leave your ... key, too, I s'pose. Well, that's it. I lo- fuck! Bye, y/n."

The tears welled up in your eyes like they had everyday this week. As soon as you opened them to take in the empty space around you, in your bed, your bleak little apartment was a fucking joke compared to the place you two once lived together. And while you're the one who, for all intents and purposes, asked for this, you couldn't lie to yourself any longer: You did not want to be without him.

You did not want to be away from the man you loved with every cell of your stupid body. Every breath. Every heartbeat was the beating of a drum sounding out his praise. Every smile and every flutter of your eyelashes was because of him. God, you miss him.

But to just leave it at this? To let go completely? That would be an admission that it's how things will be from here on out. And you're just not ready for that to be your final answer.

Texting him back, in response to his call, you said as little as you could, still getting the point across. "Yeah, thanks for the heads-up. I'll take care of everything and leave my key on the kitchen counter by the coffee maker." You choked back a sob as you thought about all the times he set up the coffee the night before and climbed into bed with you. Wrapping his arms around you. Snuggling his face into your neck and telling you that he made it extra strong, just how you like it. And that he picked up your favorite creamer flavor - it was 2 for $7, so obviously he got you 2 of them because it would be fuckin' stupid not to.

It hurts to breathe. It hurts to walk. It hurts to be awake. You have all day and all night to get over there and clear out whatever is left of your lives together. To leave the one thing behind that could get you to him at any moment in time.

So, you threw on a pair of his old sweats, an old favorite shirt of his, and a hoodie with his Pro Hero name on it. Fixed your face. Put your hair back. Grabbed your purse and headed to your favorite coffee place to get something to appease this godforsaken headache you had brewing in the core of your brain and drove to his place.

You drove home.

Taglist ::: @darkstarlight82 @millennialmagicalgirl @arlerts-angel

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wooahaes · 11 months

Text

under the sun [joshua]

pairing: non-idol!joshua x gn!reader

prompt: darl+ing inspired fic.

word count: 11.4k~

warnings: slightly suggestive at the very very end, but its left up to interpretation whether anything happens!! (its just two idiots in love making out for a minute). so, so much skinship and platonic-ish kisses between joshua and reader throughout. depictions of nightmares + mentions of vague illness and injuries within said nightmares. food mentions. more straight forward, flirty joshua throughout fic. mentions of joshua being mr gentle sexy.

daisy’s notes: men i am down bad for after writing this........ also sorry to anyone who asked to be tagged but wasn’t: several names didn’t pop up when i tried to @ them !! (plus tumblr for some reason hates when i try to have a taglist so if it DOES show that u were @-ed but didnt receive a notif, im so sorry!! ive had this issue for a while and i have no idea how to fix it...)

< day 3 || masterlist ||

summary: It all starts when you wake up in a field without a name or any memories to define yourself with. Thirteen men take you in as one of their own, and slowly you begin to wonder what is going on within this world… and between you and one of them.

It wouldn’t be wrong to say that Joshua already had a soft spot for you.

This, however, was normal in his eyes. Every time a new person came from maybe either Soonyoung or Wonwoo onward, Joshua found himself doting on people a little extra. When Jun came, it simply felt like they were a tiny group of people living together. But something about that number ticking over from four to five or five to six felt... More, in a way. Although he didn’t dote heavily on Soonyoung, or Wonwoo for that matter, his affections were obvious from day one. The amusement he found in Soonyoung’s jokes, the gentle way Joshua made sure to keep Wonwoo (and later Jihoon, Minghao, and occasionally Hansol when he wasn’t feeling the chattiest) acknowledged in conversations (never forcing them to speak, but making sure they felt regarded as a member of the group), his friendly competitions with the others... He found ways to make sure people felt involved. Jeonghan was better at listening and giving advice, Seungcheol’s job was to lead, and therefore Joshua kept people feeling loved. Whether that be with casual conversation or the occasional mischievous prank he pulled. With you, he expected more of the same: he would dote on you in the beginning, and then it would fade into that same love and care he provided everyone with. Truthfully, Joshua enjoyed caring for people. There was a reason he was called gentle sexy, after all (... even if it was semi self-imposed).

And at the end of your first week living with them, Joshua saw how stressed you were becoming for one reason or another. So he decided he’d get to the root of the problem sooner rather than later. Once he finished hanging laundry with you and the others, he offered up a little picnic lunch--just the two of you. He’d packed up the sandwiches someone else (Mingyu, he thought) had made, and sliced fruit for you. All that was left was for the two of you to find a nice spot to sit in. He carried his bag with food and water bottles inside of you, while you had been tasked with the very important job of carrying the blanket he’d found for you.

He’d suggested the spot the two of you eventually settled into: half underneath the shade of the tree, and half underneath the sunshine. He spread out the blanket for two of you, gazing up at the cloudy sky above for a moment. He looked at you after a moment, gently patting the spot next to him. Yet when you sat down, he didn’t notice the way he slightly shifted to be closer to you without much thought. It felt... natural in a strange way.

“Like my second day,” you mused aloud at one point as Joshua was pulling the securely wrapped food from his bag. He looked up with a hum, but realized what you meant a second later: the two of you had lazed together under the sky that day, too.

His fingers grazed against your own for a moment, acutely aware of how the side of your hand pressed against his own that day. “It wasn’t that long ago,” he gently teased, a warm chuckle escaping his throat. “But you already fit in with us.” Just like we knew you would, he wanted to say, but he held back. Would that be a little too bold to say...?

“I do?”

He smiled. “You do,” he said, his hand already finding a home with your own, your fingers already lacing together with his. “I wouldn’t lie. I think we all care about you a lot, even if it’s in different ways.”

He could see the way you bit back a thought. Absentmindedly, your thumb brushed over his.

“Even Jihoon and Minghao,” he told you. He noticed the way you raised your eyes, already caught. And oh how cute your expression was. Maybe he’d catch you in silly little moments like these again if he could see that wide-eyed look again. “They’re just taking their time. They were like this with Seungkwan and Chan, too.”

It didn’t take you long to piece together the missing name there. “What about Hansol?”

Joshua’s eyes seemed to light up a little as he smiled. “Jihoon liked him almost immediately,” he said, “but he’s the exception. Jihoon likes you enough, and so does Minghao. They just take a little longer to warm up to people.”

“What about Jun?”

“Jun’s looking out for you, too,” Joshua said. “He’s also a little quieter about it. But... you know that Chan likes you. So do Hansol and Seungkwan...” His thumb ran along the side of your hand. “And so do I.”

He could see a flustered smile cross your lips, and you turned your face away from him, looking to the sky instead. But you finally spoke a tiny, “Thank you,” a second later. He laughed a little, warm and vibrant, at how adorable you truly were.

“So... What else is inside that cute head?” He smiled at you, tilting his head as though it’d allow him to peer inside and see said thoughts. “Anything new?”

Your smile slowly dropped, and you let out a quiet sigh. “Nothing so far.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” he said, gently squeezing your hand. “It takes time. I think once you stop worrying about it so much, it’ll come to you.”

With another sigh, you turned back to face him again. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“It’s easy after a while,” he said, pulling his hand free from your own. He reached for the sandwiches he’d brought the two of you, offering one up. Your fingers grazed his again when you accepted it, and he turned his attention to unwrapping it slowly. “When you’ve been here as long as some of us have... You learn to accept each day for what it is.” He went quiet, staring down at his meal.

And you watched as proud, bright, warm Joshua turned into someone... quieter. Like the volume had been slowly turned down, number by number, until his melody could barely be heard while still being there. He said nothing for a moment, just staring blankly, brows drawing together as he gathered his thoughts.

“Sometimes... I pray,” he finally said. “And I think it helps. I grew up Catholic,” he looked back up at you, “That much I remember. I remember singing in church....” He went quiet again for a moment, idly pulling at a piece of the bread. “Singing’s really important to me, actually. Sometimes I don’t know why, but it is.”

You weren’t sure what to say to someone so pensive, so quiet compared to the version you knew most days. So you opted for what you knew was true: “You’re good at it.”

A smile crossed his face, even if it didn’t fully seem to be him again. “You’re sweet,” he said at first, eyes meeting yours after a second. This time, his smile actually met his eyes. “Thank you. But you should hear Seungkwan. And Seokmin, too,” he said, taking a bite of his sandwich, as if to distract himself from whatever thoughts had washed over him before. “Jeonghan and Jihoon are talented, too,” he said after swallowing his bite, “but you really, really need to hear how Seungkwan and Seokmin sound--especially if they sing together.”

That seemed to bring back the Joshua you were most familiar with. Not that you didn’t like this quieter, more thoughtful version of him: you thought that maybe, in time, you would learn how to speak to him in moments like that. It was strange, though... He always seemed so carefree so far, most days enjoying the freedom that this life could give him. It almost felt as though he was made for it. That wasn’t to say that you didn’t think Joshua could have those quieter moments: you were sure everyone there had them--even Soonyoung, who seemed to carry the most laughter with him, or Mingyu, who’s silly, goofy nature spoke for itself most days. Yet with Joshua... It felt as though you weren’t prepared to see that side of him peek out so soon.

It was cute, though, to see the way he happily hyped up the others and their talents. Soonyoung loved to dance--as did Jun, Minghao, and Chan, and Joshua was happy to sing the praises of everyone there. He’d let you see too much of himself, too soon. Maybe when the two of you were closer (and, truly, he hoped you would be), he would confide in you the way he confided in Jeonghan. He hoped you would feel the same safety in confiding in him, too: he might not be as warm as Jeonghan seemed to be, but he wanted to give you a warm place to land if you needed it, arms wide open and ready to embrace you when you needed it.

That night, he woke up from a far too vivid dream. The memory seemed to fade away soon, slipping from his grasp as he sat forward, a hand running through his hair. He’d been somewhere... crowded and loud, making his way through throngs of people. He remembered being approached, yet the face seemed... blurry and distant. Like he should remember it, but something in his mind refused to let him make out specific features.

“Joshua?” Jeonghan quietly mumbled from beside him, sleep laced into his voice. He stifled a yawn, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, slowly settling back into bed as he turned onto his side. “Just had a weird dream,” he said. “Nothing bad. Don’t worry.”

Jeonghan accepted the answer easily enough, eyelids drooping shut as he snuggled back into the space next to him. He’d talk to him about it in the morning--no need to wake Jeonghan up over something so silly. He slipped back into slumber as easily as he had pulled his blanket back over him, and was left with nothing else he could remember that next morning. He made his way to breakfast with the others, stopping long enough to glance at himself in a mirror. He looked the same, so why did he feel so... Different?

He’d waved at you on his way in, and noticed your shy smile as you waved back before returning to your conversation with Seokmin. Joshua went to get a glass, his focus purely on getting a glass of water. Maybe that’d help settle him, centering him on something other than what he dreamed about last night. Seungcheol had stopped beside him, though, his own glass in hand.

“Everything okay?” He asked in a quiet voice. “I felt you jolt last night.”

“You did?” Joshua raised his eyes to meet Seungcheol’s. “Just had a weird dream. It felt... real.”

Seungcheol slowly nodded, taking in each word with care. “Like a memory?”

“I think so.” Joshua paused. Yet... The other memories never felt so vivid. Not like this. They felt real in the same sense, but what made this one feel so intense...?

He saw you again, giggling at something Seokmin had said, and he could see the way he pressed kisses into your cheek with a smile.

Well. There might be his why sitting right there. All that was left was to chase after it.

“Today, I’m going to teach you something very important.”

Joshua’s hand was holding yours as he walked alongside the river with you, more-so to guide you than his casual form of skinship. He’d invited you along with him for a small walk through nature--something he enjoyed doing on his own sometimes, but today wasn’t just leisure. He’d left you waiting in anticipation after he finally decided to break the news to you as to why he’d suddenly invited you out again barely a few days after your picnic.

“The art,” he said, with a purposeful pause to build suspense, “of living one day at a time.” He let go of your hand after a moment, slowing to a stop as he turned to you. “I think you could use it.”

He was slightly teasing you, and you could tell from the way he was smiling at you. Yet you agreed easily enough to ‘take these lessons,’ since he’d casually offered you a ‘once-in-a-lifetime deal’ when he invited you out earlier. If there was anything Joshua was good at, it was keeping you entertained. Whether that be through playing guitar or singing, or building up to moments like these... You definitely found him charming in plenty of ways.

“It’s hard,” he said, “but I learned a while back that it’s better to accept each day as they come. It helped me relax, at least--and it helped a few of the others, so I think I’m an expert now.”

Charming and cheeky. A deadly combination, in your humble opinion, but you liked Joshua’s company too much. If he would be the death of you, then c’est la vie... At least Chan would hopefully avenge you, maybe with Seungkwan and Hansol at his side.

(Not that you had any worries with Joshua: he was strong and safe in the same way the others were. The only fear you truly ever could have was of impending heartbreak, if you let yourself fall for his charms.)

Joshua drifted away from you, plucking a few flowers from the ground before he turned back to you. “There’s a lot of beauty in nature. I think I knew it before, but living here really makes you appreciate it a lot more.” He made his way over, carefully placing the flower behind your ear.

It was at this point that you realized he’d placed the other behind his own, and he smiled at the way the two of you matched now: little yellow flowers almost making it seem like the two of you were a pair. He turned, starting off talking about his own walks he goes on sometimes, enjoying the scenery even though he’s seen it an endless amount of times by now, and you followed behind him like a duckling.

Eventually, he found a spot to sit. He nodded toward the spot next to him, the corners of his lips slightly upturned as he watched you sink down into the spot next to him.

“What do you see?”

You raised a brow at him. What?

“Humor me,” he said. “Just tell me what you can see.”

So with a long exhale, you looked around, and began to list off things. The river ahead of you, stretching toward the lake at the end of this path. The trees that surrounded both of you, having reached the more wooded area. If you looked close enough, you could see fish underneath the water, scales shimmering in the sunlight that peeked through the trees. Tiny flowers dotting amongst the grass: some pink, some white... and others yellow, like the ones you and Joshua still had behind your ears.

Your eyes trailed him up. “I see you, too,” you said after a moment.

It earned a smile from him. “Well,” he said, “I see you as well. Now tell me what you can hear.”

Part of you wanted to roll your eyes. It felt like the kind of lesson you might have as a child learning about their senses for the first time, but you began to list off things nevertheless. The sound of water rushing past (and, if you listened closer, you could hear a fish leap and land in the water again), the sound of birds fluttering through the trees. Joshua’s breathing. The wind as it rustled leaves. Your own quiet breathing, too. Part of you wondered if you could hear the others, had you been close enough to home: the sound of Jun’s loud laughter, or Seungkwan ranting at something Soonyoung joked about...

And when he prompted you next, you continued on: you could smell the flowers, light and sweet on the breeze. Feel the way that the grass was poking into your skin, the feeling of the flower, weightless, behind your ear. The warm breeze as it kissed your skin. The warm feeling of his hand brushing against yours.

“That’s it,” he said in a low voice. “The art of living a day at a time.” He was smiling again, eyes twinkling. “Living in the present moment and accepting it as that. The book Wonwoo brought back called it mindfulness, but I prefer my name for it.”

You couldn’t help but smile back at him. Even if it was a mouthful... You thought you preferred his name for it, too.

The next day, you and Joshua were tasked with cooking dinner. Conversation always came easy with Joshua: even if you had moments of being unsure what to say, he could easily fill the air and keep things flowing as the two of you worked. He always seemed to use chores as a way of checking in with you, too, just to make sure you were adjusting well. He noticed how close you’d become with Seungkwan, Hansol, and Chan--although he’d noticed that a few others had a soft spot for you (namely Mingyu... and Seungcheol, but for the sake of his friendship, he’d leave his name out of it for now).

“Joshua?” You looked up from the veggies you’d been chopping for him, and he merely hummed in acknowledgement. “So... What started this whole ‘art of living one day at a time’ thing?”

He hummed to himself for a moment, mulling over the exact moment that led to it. He’d come up with the silly little name for it after he started practicing mindfulness, sure, but... “Sometimes,” he started, “I’ll get stuck in my own thoughts. It was maybe a few weeks before Jun showed up, but Cheol and Jeonghan took me out for a picnic. And--I dunno. We just sat together, just kinda observing how peaceful everything is.”

“So you had a picnic with your friends, and you started to appreciate... everything?”

Joshua nodded, not looking up from his work. “Yep. It helped.”

“Would you do that with me?”

He paused, turning to see that you’d grown more flustered at asking your question aloud. Before you could apologize and try to backtrack, he merely nodded, “Sure. I’d gladly steal you away for a picnic if you don’t mention it to anyone else.” He went back to stirring the pot, the scent of spices heavy in the air. “I like having alone time with you.”

His heart stirred at his own words, aware of what he meant: I like being the object of your attention.

Right as he went to apologize for being so forward, you spoke up, “Then you can’t tell anyone, either.“

Joshua’s eyes were shimmering as he turned to you again, sharing a smile between the two of you as he realized that maybe things weren’t so one-sided for him. “Then... We can call it a date. If you want.”

“And if I do?”

Oh. Oh. This felt... fast. “Then you can pick our spot.”

Two days later, Joshua let you take the lead, a basket and blanket in his hands as you lead the way outside. The two of you had agreed to a little picnic lunch together, to reduce any risk of someone trying to tag along with you. Everyone would be scattered now, doing their own things as Joshua let you take the lead. He could hear the sound of Seungkwan and Chan bickering in the attic as he climbed up and into the church, and the tell-tale sound of Hansol’s warm laugh at an argument that was anything but serious. The two of you had passed Mingyu and Wonwoo on your way out, and he’d seen Seokmin go searching for Jihoon with Minghao tailing alongside him. Some of the others must still be out, finishing up their chores for the day. Joshua saw Jun on the way out, making his way back inside with an empty basket from doing laundry in his arms, and merely gave him a small wave.

You guided him out and to the same shady spot he sat with you on your second day. Together, you spread the blanket out before sitting together, chatting idly for a while..

“Joshua?” You suddenly said. “Tell me what you can see.”

His eyes crinkled a little with delight. Oh, how cute of you. He began to list things in a calm, even tone: the trees that grow thicker down the path to the lake, the river that ran near the two of you (and the shimmering of scales that are easier to see now, with the sunlight hitting them), the pebbles that were pressed into the dirt. He could hear the sound of your breathing, leaves rustling, the babbling brook... And he could feel the plush fabric underneath the two of you, the warm breeze as it kissed his skin in a way he wished would be replaced by something (someone, his mind corrected) else...

And even though the two of you had moved on from that sense, he smiled as he looked at you: “And I see you.”

Over two weeks of you being there, and Joshua felt as though he’d fallen for you too quickly. Too easily. Maybe in another life, this would have taken far longer. He would have courted you the right way, with dinner dates and long walks where he had to build up the courage to ask if he could hold your hand (out of respect for you rather than insecurity for himself: not all people enjoyed the kind of casual skinship that Joshua often saw Seungkwan partake in with...well... everyone). Maybe he should have asked you on the walk back how you felt, exactly...Yet his confidence had dwindled slightly. He felt something for you, yes, but how was he to be sure that it was love?

So he’d give himself a little longer instead. Enough time to know for sure that the enamored feelings he was almost certain of were what he thought they were. Every time a new person came, there was always this honeymoon period of adoration for them. For Joshua, it was the warmth of a need to welcome and care for a new person, and he knew himself well: it’d only last a week or two, three at the most, before it became something comfortable in his chest rather than an ever present flutter that punctuated his every action. Even if his gaze would drift down to your lips (a sign, in his eyes, that this was not the normal love he felt for new people)... He needed time to be sure.

Barely into your third week of living with them, Joshua woke up to the sound of you panicking.

He was far from the first person awake, though. You had curled up across the room, happy to be in Seokmin’s warm embrace since he was feeling particularly cuddly tonight, and you’d startled several of the others closer to you. He jerked up, running a hand through his hair to comb it back to his face as he watched you panic. The others had already taken to comforting you to no success. Seokmin kept an arm around you, trying to calm you down while your words were slammed together in this endless dribble, like water from a faucet coming out all in one heavy blast. Chan had reached out, trying to take your hand and wipe your tears as you kept trying to talk about the dream you’d had. Seungkwan spoke over you plenty, alongside Minghao, as they all tried to get you to slow down and breathe. You could talk afterward, yet you didn’t seem to listen. All Joshua could tell was that you had fought with Minghao in this dream, and then you ran away and ended up hurt, terrified no one was coming for you.

He kicked off the blanket, pulling himself free from the space between Seungcheol and Jeonghan with ease. Several others had woken up at this point, too, and he could hear Seungcheol mumbling something to Jeonghan as he was roused, too. Joshua, on the other hand, was more focused on getting over to you, falling to his knees in front of you.

“Hey,” he said softly, “it’s okay. It’s okay,” he reached for your hands, and, through your tear-filled gaze, your eyes met his own. “I’m here--”

All within seconds, you’d begun to move in for comfort, and he easily pulled you into his chest. Soon enough, he had sunk down to where he was sitting, letting you sob into his shirt as he stroked your back. His head leaned against your own, eyes fluttering shut as he focused on comforting you.

“It’s okay,” he said again in that low, soothing voice, “I’m right here. Just breathe for me, darling, okay?”

As if the words finally broke through to you, this time carrying some meaning to them, you gave him a shaky nod before squeezing your eyes shut tight. Your breathing staggered, and Joshua began to take in slow, deep breaths with you. Just to make sure you didn’t feel like you were alone now. He raised his head as you kept breathing, and he looked around at the sea of concerned faces that surrounded him now. Some of them were still half asleep (Mingyu and Hansol, Joshua noticed, and maybe Soonyoung, too), but they’d gathered around. They were a community, after all. This was far from the first time someone had a bad enough dream to evoke such a strong reaction (Joshua remembered plenty of incidents right offhand), and it created this understood feeling between them all: we check on each other, and we go from there. If you didn’t want to talk, they wouldn’t force you to.

You had realized that you disturbed everyone soon enough, and already began to apologize over and over, trying to make up a good enough reason to justify getting so upset over a bad dream. Joshua gently shushed you instead.

“It’s okay,” he repeated again. “You just had a bad dream. It happens to all of us.”

Which was enough to prompt Chan into bringing up how he woke up with a scream his first week there. He couldn’t remember what the dream was anymore, but it was bad enough that the others had to calm him down, too. He thought it was something to do with his life before, but Joshua remembered what it was. Chan had dreamed that he’d been kicked out of the group because he failed them in some way. Seokmin reached over, taking your hand in his, gently running his thumb across your knuckles as he shared his own story: he fought with Mingyu early into the latter’s first days with the group, and had a bad dream a while after of the fight getting worse.

They shared their pain with you without reluctance. They were human, too, after all: they had bad dreams and bad mornings, and sometimes they’d wake up crying like this too. Joshua just cradled you to his chest the entire time, though, tracing slow circles onto your back as you listened. Despite the stories being shared, you didn’t share your own now that you were calm enough that you could get it across better. No one pushed you to, though, past Wonwoo’s gentle question of whether you wanted to talk about it more. You had shook your head, curling up closer to Joshua before saying that you felt better now, thanks to all of them. They’d all started to go back to bed, Seungkwan telling you to wake him up if you needed to talk; he would happily listen if you needed him (or the two of you could go on a walk, too, if that’d help).

Joshua gently nudged you to get your attention. “What do you want now?” He asked softly. “You wanna go back to bed? I can get you some water if you want.”

You shook your head. “Can... Can I sleep with you, actually? You holding me helps...”

The surprise of your request made him grow a little flustered. He’d always be open to cuddling with you, but for you to say something like that...

He nodded, though, and brought you back over to where he’d been sleeping. Seungcheol wordlessly shifted over to make room for you, already grabbing extra pillows and blankets to help make you as comfortable as possible. Soon enough, you were curled up in Joshua’s arms again.

Over your head, Joshua had met Jeonghan’s gaze. His eyes flickered down to you for just a moment, and Joshua...

Well. He knew what Jeonghan was trying to ask. He merely nodded, and he watched as his friend nodded in return, understanding. A moment later, he’d seen the way you shivered slightly, and Jeonghan slid a little closer to ensure that you would be warm between the two of them.

Joshua loved you. Plain and simple. And now he was sure that both Jeonghan and Seungcheol knew (as well as every other person in that room). Everyone but you, hopefully. If he was going to tell you soon (and he would, he knew he would if he thought he had a chance), he wanted to do it right. But only when you were ready for that kind of relationship with him.

(And maybe he should call it overconfidence, but... Joshua had a pretty strong feeling that you loved him back.)

As much as Joshua didn’t want to leave you the next morning, it was Mingyu who gently nudged him awake, asking in a low voice if he’d come help with breakfast. He agreed, watching you sleep for a moment longer after Mingyu left him, and he slowly untangled himself from him. When you began to stir away, he gently shushed you, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he told you to go back to sleep for a little longer. You’d ended up turning over, reaching over for Seungcheol, who barely roused before he cuddled a little closer to give you further comfort. Joshua pulled himself from his blankets, watching the wordless way that Jeonghan filled the space he was leaving, eyes meeting his for a second in a silent go on, I’ve got them.

Mingyu was already working on breakfast when Joshua came in, his conversation with Seokmin coming to a halt. The two greeted him casually enough, and Joshua was put to work soon enough.

“Josh?” Seokmin said after a few minutes, earning a glance from him. “You and Mouse...”

Joshua said nothing at first, working on. Oh. It must be obvious now, then. Is this something he’ll have to address with everyone? “We’re only friends.”

“We know,” Mingyu said. “That’s not what we’re asking.”

You don’t need me to say it out loud, Joshua wanted to say. Because they knew: everyone had to, right? Last night was just... proof that the initial affection he held for you within your first days never went away. That it merely blossomed into something stronger. Barely a few weeks into you living with them, and you’d somehow captured his heart so easily. He didn’t want to call it all-out love, because love took longer to sow. Infatuation fit better. He, for the lack of a better word between “infatuation” and “love,” liked you.. a lot.

He waited until everyone, save for you, had filed in for breakfast. They were quiet, a few whispers about you flying around the table, and Joshua... Well. Joshua wasn’t an idiot: he saw the concerned glances people kept sending him. The way no one addressed him, but kept clearly talking about him.

And then he finally spoke up, “Don’t tell them.”

No one spoke. They merely exchanged looks, all knowing at this point.

“Not now,” Joshua said. “I’ll tell them when they’re ready. I’m not putting that burden on them this soon.”

It was still tense, but Seungkwan was the one who finally looked up from his breakfast. “Joshua... I think they like you, too.”

He wanted to say something. Anything. His face grew warmer at someone actually speaking the thought aloud. He thought you did, too: but he didn’t want to define your feelings in his mind. It would set expectations on you that he wasn’t comfortable setting: if you liked him back, then he’d want to hear you say it out loud. Not now, of course, but when you were feeling better. He knew the effects of a shitty dream all too well.

Chan barely touched his food before he excused himself, saying something about taking a walk before he’d start on his share of the chores. Joshua saw the concerned look Hansol and Seungkwan shared, and the gentle nod toward where Chan had left that Seungcheol gave them: go on. The two excused themselves as well, getting up and following after him quickly.

Joshua wasn’t an idiot. He knew he wasn’t the only person who felt more for you. He knew Chan did. He thought Cheol did, too, but Joshua knew that neither would stand in your way of pursuing who you loved. Whether it be them or someone else, they would accept it and learn how to move past their feelings. Joshua would do the same, after all. He loved you and your happiness. And if you would be happier with someone else.. Then Joshua would support you wholeheartedly while he took the time to heal.

That’s what love was supposed to be, wasn’t it?

Something weighed in the pit of your stomach for most of that day. Everyone had been concerned at breakfast that morning (which, to be fair, hadn’t surprised you in the slightest), and you had waved them off. You weren’t ready to talk about your dream quite yet, not until you tried to focus on the center of it all. By some stroke of luck, you’d found Minghao painting by himself--sitting at a bare space of wall that’d only been painted green in preparation. He’d been painting a circle of blue, merely glancing up as you came closer before greeting you casually enough.

You slowly sank down next to him when he invited you to. “Um... Minghao?”

He heard the caution in your voice, and it made him lower his brush, turning to you. “Is something wrong?”

“Did... Did I do something?” You said slowly. “I mean. I don’t think I did, but--I had a dream that you were mad at me, and--and I just started overthinking and--”

“I’m not mad at you,” he said, plain and simple. For a moment, his gaze flickered past you, but before you could turn to see what he was looking at, he spoke up again. “If I was, you’d know. We’d talk about it eventually.”

Relief hit you all at once, and you let out a sigh. “Good...” You’d toyed with your sleeve, still feeling a slight nervous edge as you sat there with him. “I just... I had this dream where everyone seemed upset. But you--”

His gaze flickered up again, and then back to your face before he finally looked past you one final time. “Stop standing around and either sit with us or go.”

You turned, and Joshua had been lingering nearby. “Oh. Shua...”

“I can go--”

“No,” you said, “it’s okay. You can stay if you want. I don’t mind talking about it now.”

Joshua slowly nodded, making his way over before he sank down next to the two of you. He watched you for a moment, waiting to see if you would continue.

And soon enough, you did. “Anyway... I don’t know why everyone was upset, but you were the only one who spoke up and said whatever happened was my fault.”

Minghao furrowed his brow, looking up. “But you don’t know what happened?” When you shook your head, he continued. “I can’t say I wouldn’t be mad if something bad happened--”

“I ran away,” you said. “I don’t know why, but I just decided I’d leave for good since you all were better off before I came here.”

Joshua wasn’t sure what to say. He merely shared a concerned glance with Minghao, who, too, seemed to be at a loss for words.

“We love you,” was what Minghao said a second later, voice softer than before. “If something bad happened, we wouldn’t kick you out.”

“He’s right,” Joshua said. “We wouldn’t--”

“You didn’t,” you said. “I decided to just... Remove myself from the equation.”

That... was different, to be fair. But what could cause them all to be so upset that you felt that was the only option? To run away and live on your own instead? They were a community: no one should have to live a life of complete isolation. Seungcheol was always adamant about that after his own time alone.

“I know I wasn’t warm to you when you first came here,” Minghao said after a moment, “but I don’t want you to leave. You’re one of us now.”

With a slow nod, you let his words sink in. Us. Although you knew they’d all embraced you with open arms, letting you into this community, this family they had so lovingly come together to form... It still meant a lot to hear that you were a part of it. That they loved you.

Minghao looked back at the scene he’d been working on, pressing his lips together for a moment. “Do you have any ideas on what I should paint? I wanted to paint a pond, but...”

Joshua looked to you. “Mouse?”

“How about... ducks?” You suggested casually enough. “A little family of ducks.”

Minghao nodded after a moment, taking your suggestion into account before he began to wash his brush. “A family of ducks it is, then.”

You stood up, thanking Minghao for the talk as you went to leave him and Joshua behind. Yet Joshua rose quickly, following after you and stopping you once you were far enough to not be overheard by Minghao.

“Did you have any more bad dreams?”

You shook your head. “I didn’t. Thank you for being there, though. It felt like cuddling with you was all I needed.”

He chuckled. “Well,” he said, “all you have to do is wake me up and I’ll be there from now.“ He took your hands in his, swinging them slightly. “I always have room for you, alright?”

Your nose had crinkled when you smiled, giggling. “I’ll keep that in mind.” You slowly let go, taking a drifting step back. “Thank you, Joshua. I’ll keep it in mind.”

It was strange. Sure enough, you woke up that next night, sobbing again. It wasn’t as bad as the first time, but Chan had woken up Joshua for you when you asked him to. Instead of merely trying to soothe you back to sleep then and there, he glanced around before he gently pulled you to your feet, guiding you out of the room to make both of you a warm cup of tea. He sat next to you, watching the slow sips you’d take, cheeks still wet with tears. Despite the urge to go ahead and ask, to figure out what upset you this time, he let you have your space. The tea seemed to calm your nerves, and he merely waited for you to make the next move: if you wanted to go back to bed, he’d offer the spot next to you again. Or you could go back to Chan, who Joshua was sure was still lying awake, waiting to know if you were fine. When you finally lifted your head, meeting his gaze, you asked to talk about it.

This time, your nightmare was about Wonwoo. He’d fallen sick--really, really sick--in your nightmare. You swore you could still feel his feverish skin from when you were checking his temperature. It was almost as if he was going to die, and the thought of that had been enough to throw you out of your dreams and back into the reality you were living in. Wonwoo was okay: that was something you could see when you first woke up. Chan had stirred, asking what was wrong, and you merely asked him to get Joshua.

“If it helps... No one’s ever been that sick before,” Joshua said, his hand on top of yours. His thumb grazed the back of your hand. “And we know how to take care of each other. I’m sure Wonwoo would have been okay.”

Something about his presence seemed to calm you easier than the others did. He sat with you a little longer until your cups of tea were empty, and soon enough he’d made a space for you once more, letting you curl up in his arms again.

The same happened the next night: Mingyu had burned his hand in that dream. The next, you were lost in the forest with an injured ankle and you were scared no one would come for you. In another, your shoulder had been injured horribly... And all Joshua could do was be there for you each night. Sometimes he’d make you tea, or the two of you would go on a short walk to clear your head, but it always ended up the same: with you in Joshua’s arms, feeling safer than you had been before. He would wake up the next morning, feeling the weight of your body against his, sleeping peacefully.

(You finally gave up after that night and started sleeping next to him permanently until you worked out whatever was causing these nightmares. Not that he was complaining: he liked having you close to him.)

Seungcheol had been watching you one night after dinner, while the group was all still together, biting his bottom lip. Joshua wondered if he thought he could figure you out had he stared intensely enough, studying your entirety as much as he could from his place across the room. Yet his calling of “Mouse,” had been enough to catch your attention, followed by, “are your dreams still bothering you?”

You looked up from the puzzle you were working on with Minghao and Seokmin, a little more flustered at the outright question. “Not really...”

“Aren’t dreams a subconscious thing?” Hansol said from his spot on the couch, curled up with Jihoon next to him. “Maybe you’re just worried about something.”

“I’m not,” you said, a little too quickly in Joshua’s opinion. “I just had a string of bad dreams. It’s nothing serious.”

“Are you sure?” Seokmin frowned. “You can talk to us--”

“I’m fine,” you said, standing up. “I’m gonna go wash up for bed.”

They let you go without a fight. No need to push you now when you were already starting to get upset. Joshua merely said he’d go try to talk to you, just to make sure you were fine--even if you weren’t ready to talk. He’d found you brushing your teeth, and you’d pouted a little at the sight of him in the entryway.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you said after spitting into the sink. “Maybe tomorrow, Shua.”

He slowly drifted closer to you. “That’s okay,” he said, slowly stopping next to you. “Do you know what’s bothering you, though?”

Reluctantly, you nodded after a moment. “I think I do. But... I don’t wanna think deeply about it before bed.”

He could understand that. “As long as you aren’t bottling it up,” he said. “We love you a lot.” He reached out to brush a stray hair back into place, and his fingers lingered at your temple for a moment before he drew his hand back. “I just want you to know that.”

“I love you guys, too,” you met his gaze. “Really, Joshua. I’m okay for tonight.” You leaned in, pressing a tiny kiss against his cheek. “Just tired from doing laundry with Soonyoung and Seungkwan earlier.”

He chuckled airily, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I understand. Just don’t be afraid to tell us things, alright?”

“I won’t.” You promised. “Goodnight, Joshua.”

With you heading to bed early, Joshua... knew what he needed to do. The group was starting to disperse when he returned, and he went ahead to stop Chan before he could go with the others.

“I was thinking about going for a walk,” he said. “Do you want to join me?”

Chan shook his head. “I’m good, Shua. Thank you--”

“Chan,” he said, a little more serious this time. “I think you should.”

Chan looked toward the others, and let out a sigh, before nodding. He understood what this was, and the two of them grabbed their shoes and began to make their way outside. Once the church doors were securely closed behind them, Joshua let out a sigh and looked up to the stars overheard, twinkling in the clear, dark sky... and then he nodded out toward the river. He and Chan walked in silence at first, making their way down the hill with slow, heavy steps, neither sure how to begin this conversation.

“I really like them,” Joshua said outright. “And I know other people do, too. In the same way, I mean.”

Chan didn’t look at him at first. “I know. I was there when you asked us not to tell them how you feel.”

“I just want to clear the air,” Joshua said, “because I know you love them, too.”

Chan met his gaze, and Joshua could see something (confidence, perhaps) waver in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, only to close it, looking away. “We’re all adults here,” he said. “I’m not going to treat either of you differently.”

“I know that,” Joshua said. “I trust you. But I don’t want any bad blood between us... and I don’t want to hurt your friendship with Mouse, either.”

With a heavy sigh, Chan shut his eyes for a moment, slowing to a stop. “As long as they’re happy, then I’m happy. I love them, Joshua, and I want them to be happy.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, turning away again to kick at a pebble along the riverside. “I’d be happy no matter who they love. It’s not like they can date all of us.”

“Can’t they?” Joshua said, only slightly teasing. “You know how we are with each other. I think if we all wanted that, we’d work it out.”

Chan’s face grew bright red, even in the low light. “Don’t say things like that!” He said, pouting, “I--I don’t want to think about it when they only like you.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “I mean it, though. We’re all more than just a group of people living together, though. Who knows,” he shrugged, “maybe in another life, we’d all be something together.”

“Maybe.” Chan sounded wistful as he stared off into the distance. “But they love you.”

But they love me, Joshua repeated mentally, turning the phrase over in his mind over and over. You loved him... “I think they do--”

“I know they do.” Chan said. “It’s kind of obvious now.” He pulled his hands from his pockets, looking back to the church. The two began their return up the hill, faster this time to get back inside now that they’ve cleared the air. “Are you going to talk to Cheol, too?” He paused, “I mean... It’s obvious. Isn’t it?”

Joshua let out a warm chuckle as he pulled open the doors. It was a bit obvious that Seungcheol felt... a lot for you. “It is. I’m not sure I’ll talk to him, though.”

“Why?”

“You admitted to your feelings,” Joshua said, following Chan inside as he turned to secure the door. “Cheol is the kind of person who’d rather deny them either until his feelings are gone or until the world ends if it meant they’d be happy. He’s just going to give them up--”

“And I will.” Seungcheol stood up from his chair, making his way over. “Are you two really talking about me?” He chuckled a little at the startled expression on Chan’s face. “It’s fine, Chan. Hansol mentioned the two of you left, and I had an idea why.”

“So you decided to just wait in the dark to scare us?”

Seungcheol shrugged. “I thought it’d be funny. And it was,” he nodded toward Chan, “very funny to see his face--”

“But that’s not fair!” Chan suddenly cut in. “Cheol... It’s not fair that you have to give up your feelings.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

Chan stammered for a moment, “I--But--It’s not--” And then stopped, collecting himself. “It is, but... You give up a lot for us already.”

“They don’t love me,” Seungcheol said, plain and simple. A fact that he had long since accepted. “They love Joshua. We’re both giving up our feelings because we care about them and want to see them happy.”

Joshua felt his heart sink a little. While Joshua would have done the same for you... It felt awful to hear it said aloud, especially from someone who felt so much for you. “Cheol--”

“It’s silly,” he said. “How hard I fell and how fast it happened... But they love you, Joshua. And I know you love them, too.”

Joshua wasn’t sure what to say. “Cheol, I’m--”

“Take care of them.” Seungcheol tucked his hands into his pockets. “I know they’ll do the same.” He turned, musing aloud, “You know who to see about signing up to perform on their day...”

So Joshua nodded, already knowing what he needed to do. Chan walked ahead, following after Seungcheol. He needed to tell you soon, but... Surely, you could wait a little longer, couldn’t you? Just long enough for him to say it the way he felt he needed to. He made his way down, through the long passage until he came into the main room... Where Jihoon had been curled up, reading a book on the couch, humming to himself as he drummed his fingers against the edge. He wasn’t tired yet, but Joshua knew he wouldn’t go to his guitar until he couldn’t hold back anymore. He called out to Jihoon, already bringing up the song they’d been working on with Jeonghan and how he was going to try and finish it. He’d need help with getting it right, but...

Joshua knew how to make his feelings for you clear. Even if you couldn’t answer him in the moment, he’d sing it proudly, just so you knew where his heart fell.

Sometimes, all you had to do to find Joshua was follow the sound of a guitar being played. It always would lead you either to him or to Jihoon (or, rarely, Hansol), and once you came close enough, you’d be able to hear the soft way he mumbled his way through lyrics as he tried to figure them out. You peered around the entryway to the room he was in, watching the way he quietly worked on. He’d yet to notice you, and you watched the way his fingers moved to make each chord. Something about the way the sunlight flooded into the room and illuminated him made it feel as though you were looking in on a masterpiece. If only you could paint it--committing it to memory didn’t feel like it was enough to capture his beauty. Those soft brown locks fell into his face, eyes half-lidded as the lyrics he were working through (Should I talk to you or not? / I thought for a while...) barely audible. Was this, you wondered, what Eurydice felt when she looked upon Orpheus? Or how the stones felt when he traveled to bring her back, parting the way with ease, so moved by his song? Even if you couldn’t hear every word he sang, there was something so genuinely beautiful about how he seemed to lose himself in his music. It was similar to the way Jihoon did, too, as well as Hansol: they loved it so deeply, it was as though they were meant to sing in some way. Like music was one of their greatest loves, and it’d be cruel to abandon it completely.

Joshua looked up soon enough, though, and the music stopped as those pretty eyes softened when they saw you. “Hello, darling,” he called out, thoroughly amused that he had caught you observing him. It was just as love-filled as when he called you that during your second day there, too. “You can come in, if you want.”

As if bewitched to move from your place, you drifted across the room toward him, heart guiding you more than anything. Joshua always seemed to have room for you, no matter where he was: there was space by his side at dinner, at bedtime, or in conversations... and even now, when it was the two of you alone, he was happy to bring you in.

“Do you know how to play?” He asked, turning his attention to tuning his guitar--one of the chords must have been slightly off, since he’d kept trying to tune and retune it as he worked.

You shake your head. “Hansol offered to teach me once, actually,” you watched as he worked on, humming in acknowledgement.

“And?”

“I turned him down.”

Joshua lifted his head, this pretty, amused glimmer in his eyes. “You don’t want to spend time with Hansol?”

With a giggle, you gently bumped your shoulder into his. “Of course I do. I’d just... rather learn from someone else.”

He merely chuckled. “I see.”

Wordlessly, as he finally finished tuning the guitar, Joshua moved in closer to you so that he could reach around you. He brought in your hand to lay on the strings, the weight of it mostly on him still. His fingers are rough as they guide yours into place, and it made you wonder how long he’d been playing guitar.

“This is how you do Em...” His breath hit the back of your ear, and he paused to make sure you were pressing down the strings firmly enough. Then he strummed, and you could feel the vibrations through those strings. “Hear that?” He said, and when you looked at his face again, you could see this proud glimmer in his eyes. “And if you move your fingers to these chords,” he was already moving on, “you can get C...”

Joshua gently instructed you as he could. Em to C to G to D, always guiding your fingers and helping you keep them in place, and punctuating each with a strum to let you hear the difference.

“You’ll get better with time,” he said, “we’ll work on it.”

“So that means there’s a next time?”

He shifted away from you, returning to the position he’d been sitting in before you came. “If you want there to be one. I like spending time with you, you know.”

“Good.” You rested against his side. “I like spending time with you, too.”

He chuckled warmly. “I won’t tell Hansol you said that--”

When you whined his name, he merely laughed a little more, head tilting back as his eyes scrunched up with joy. Yet soon enough, he went back to what he was working on, no longer softly singing lyrics under his breath. He merely hummed along, trying to figure out the part he was working on.

“Y’know...” You began to toy with a stray strand of thread on your sleeve. “I talked to Cheol yesterday.”

“Mhm?”

For a moment, you weren’t sure how to bring it up. So you sucked in a quiet breath, before finally looking up to watch his face and try to gauge his reaction. “Joshua. What do you think love is like?”

He didn’t seem to hesitate. “I think it’s putting someone else’s needs before your own. Wanting to be close to them, too. Caring for them in a way that’s different than caring for other people.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he continued to speak:

“It’s the way you make me feel,” he said outright, voice softer this time, as if someone would overhear if he said it any louder. He watched the way you went wide-eyed in response, clearly not expecting him to be so forward. “I was going to tell you differently. I mean, I still will, but--”

“You love me?”

He grew surprisingly sheepish, averting his gaze before giving you the tiniest nod. Strong, warm, outgoing Joshua had been reduced to a shy schoolboy because of one little question from you. “I think I do.”

His heart hammered in his chest, and he felt as though you could hear it from how silent the room had become.

“Oh.” It wasn’t flat. Or disappointed. It was warm, and a little confused, but he could hear the tiniest thread of joy laced into it. You gently bumped against his shoulder again. “Do you want to know how I feel?”

“I do,” he said, “but...” He met your eyes again. “Will you wait?”

... Wait? You’d thought that waiting was a little pointless when the fourteen of you were living this life together. What if things were over tomorrow? Why wait forever? Wasn’t that what Seungcheol told you, too? That you shouldn’t wait to confess to him? “Why?”

“I want to say it right,” he reached out, setting his hand over yours. “Okay? Let me sweep you off your feet.”

He didn’t expect you to laugh so warmly, so full of love at how cute he truly could be. “Okay,” you said, this teasing lift to your voice something he thought you’d gotten from hanging around him so much. “Then do it.”

Joshua set aside the guitar. He stood up, turning to you and offering his hand, and he nearly chuckled at your startled reaction.

“Wait, now?!”

“Nope,” he smiled. “You’ll just have to wait for what I have planned.” He nodded his head toward the doorway, “But I don’t want to give up alone time with you yet. Do you?”

You didn’t, either. With a smile, you accepted his hand, and happily let him lead the way. Although a few others had greeted the two of you, inviting you into a game, Joshua merely told them that the two of you had already decided to go for a walk together. Before someone could try to tag along, he’d already swept you away, happy to steal you all for himself for a bit. Not that he was the only one being greedy: you liked having Joshua all to yourself, too. The way he loosely intertwined his fingers with your own, just enough to keep your hands together but not enough to trap you with him, was sweet. Although when you tightened your grip a little, just to squeeze his hand, he wordlessly squeezed back.

And if he let go of you, just to sit in a shady spot under a tree, who were you to say no when he happily offered the empty space next to him to you?

(Even if it would later net the two of you teasing from Jeonghan when he eventually found you together, hours before dinner rolled around, comfortably sleeping hand in hand.)

Celebrations were always a highlight of having this group. Yes, there was plenty of manual labor that came first... But it would always be worth it to see someone light up, getting attention dedicated to them for a night. If he could see the way you smiled every night for the rest of his life, he’d be happy with that alone. Chan had held your hand as he brought you in, bright petals filling the air as they welcomed you into the group officially. Seungkwan had placed the flower crown upon your head, lips grazing your cheek for just a second--just as everyone else did. Joshua let his lips linger against your skin for an extra second, and found himself feeling a little greedy for doing so... and for wishing that he could steal you away again. He nodded along as Seungcheol eventually did his usual toast, and smiled at the sight of Chan with his arm around your shoulder, ever the dutiful best friend to you. It was clear that everyone there loved you. If nothing else, Joshua knew that you would be loved no matter what. And if his love for you faded into something akin to friendship, it’d still be love nonetheless.

Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan had performed their little song and dance routine--and Joshua had beamed the entire time. Maybe it was because you eventually settled into the seat next to him, letting him drape an arm around the back of your chair and press his side against yours. He loved the sound of your laugh, so full of genuine love for the three as they performed. Jihoon performed a medley of his songs--some new, some old, but these medleys were normal for him. Even with broken leftovers of songs he could never find it in him to complete, Jihoon made a complete experience for everyone to enjoy. Even Hansol had a song to perform, incomplete yet so uniquely him. Jun’s monologue had been written by him, Minghao’s art piece unveiled in the same dramatic flair that he always did...

Joshua pressed a kiss right in front of your ear. “Wait for me,” he said, getting up, “This is for you.”

He watched the realization cross your face as he drifted away, getting a guitar as Jeonghan came to join him. He let Jeonghan introduce the song as he prepped the stage: it was something the two of them had worked on with Jihoon, yet only recently finished together. Soon, he was sitting on one stool with Jeonghan on the other, already playing. You recognized the song soon: it’d been the one he had practiced when he told you that he thought he loved you.

I’m falling for you / falling for you... / it’s too late to escape

(And Joshua, in that moment, was certain he never wanted to. Especially when he fell asleep next to you, smiling at your sleeping face and caressing the white rose that Jeonghan had painted onto your skin.)

The song had been part one. Part two began the next day, before most of the others were asleep. He’d departed from your side early--not early enough to beat the others, but early enough that you were still comfortable in your bed. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, already moving to make his plans. He’d be making dinner with Seokmin and Mingyu tonight, and that meant he could get everything ready without looking too obvious.

It would be hard to avoid you for most of the day, but the others were a welcome help. Jeonghan would point you to him when the time came, but Seungkwan, Hansol, and Chan had been tasked with distracting you for the rest of the day. That meant staying away from the garden once chores were over, and letting him take the time to make everything perfect. From the string lights that Seungkwan had found for him to the plush blanket he spread out onto the ground... He had to make this perfect.

Seungcheol had found him while he was working. “You’re telling them, right?”

He smiled. “Is it so wrong to make it romantic?”

“No,” he said, leaning against a tree. “Like I told you... Take care of them.”

“I will--”

Yet he had let out a loud, long sigh. “Seriously... They’ve been staring at you for the past few days. How can you not say something sooner? I think I’d break if they looked at me like that.”

Joshua felt the opposite, actually: Seungcheol was in love with the group. It’d take a miracle for him to tell you how he felt, and even then... He’d probably take a thousand years to do it, too. Not when it made him look as though he was playing favorites. Joshua wondered, for a moment, if that was why Seungcheol seemed so okay to give up his love for you. To let you be happy with someone else. He pushed the thought away: maybe, in another world, Seungcheol wouldn’t have to struggle with his feelings... It made Joshua feel guilty, for a moment. But he reminded himself what they both knew: you loved Joshua.

(In another world, if you loved everyone alongside him... Joshua thought he could live with that. He loved everyone else, too, after all.)

He returned inside to bring out the picnic dinner, dessert packed as well in the form of sliced fruit. Especially strawberries, which he had carefully cut the tops off of and sliced in half. It was a simple enough gesture, but one he hoped you would love.

And when you finally came to him, you laughed. “Seungkwan refused to let me leave him until Chan finally told me what was going on.”

Joshua had been sitting on the blanket, but he rose to his feet, hands outstretched for you. “Does that mean you wanted to see me?”

“Silly...” You placed your hands in his. “I’ve been dying to talk to you all day.” With ease, you slipped your fingers in-between his. “About the two of us.”

“Does that mean there is a ‘two of us?’”

He could see you grow flustered, averting your gaze for a moment as you pressed your lip together. “What do you want?”

Joshua began to lower himself down, bringing you with him to sit together. He let go just long enough to push things aside, scooting forward so that he could be closer to you. He gently took your hands in his again, squeezing them as he gathered his courage to say what he needed to say. He knew he felt something for you, that you felt something for him, and yet saying it out loud was scarier. It made it more real.

“I want us.” He ran his thumbs over your knuckles. “I want to love you while we have the chance. I’ve thought a lot about it, and... I don’t know what brought us here. I-I don’t know what brought you to me,” he squeezed your hands, “and I’m okay with whatever it is, no matter what it is. Because you’re here,” he reached forward, fingers curving around your cheek, “and I’m with you. And... And I think that’s where we’re supposed to be.”

“Joshua--”

“I love you.” His heart was racing as he said it. The words felt at home in his mouth. “And it’s okay if you can’t say it back. But... I think I’m yours if you want me to be--”

You’d lunged forward, kissing him hard and nearly sending him toppling back. His hands fly to steady you, and he shut his eyes as he kissed you back. You threaded a hand through his hair, the other cupping his cheek as you smiled into this kiss. Deep down, there was a tiny urge to just lean back. To let you take over and kiss him and... more, if you wanted it. He let his mind go blank for a moment, savoring how soft your lips felt against his own... And then he remembered.

“I,” he said as he gently pushed you back, smiling. His hair was a little messier now. “I made us dinner. And as much as I want to kiss you again...” He cupped your face, “I don’t want it going to waste.”

It earned a giggle from you, and you pecked him on the lips one quick, final time for now. “Right,” you said, leaning away. “We have time.”

That the two of you did. He’d already begun talking about how he’d been working on this earlier with the others, just to make something that would hopefully taste delicious. The others would be leaving you alone tonight, which was ideal. He wanted to be the sole object of your affections tonight and tomorrow and every day that came after, if you’d let him.

“Maybe that makes me selfish,” he said, drawing you in once more, “I can’t keep stealing you away forever, after all...”

Yet your lips slanted against his, and it made him feel free. Maybe he was never the one stealing you away. After all.. You’d stolen his heart within days of coming here. How could he steal you when he was always yours? He’d have to learn how to share you with the others again, the tiny need to keep you close to him building inside him. Just to link you to one another, like puzzle pieces that have fallen into place...

Truthfully, as long as you stood side by side with him in life... He would be happy no matter where you were. Alone or with the others, all he knew was that he wanted you with him until the end.

general taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @cinnamoroxie [unable to tag?] @cherryredcheol [unable to tag?] @gyulbabie

under the sun taglist: @shiningstar-byulxx @twogyuu @strawberri-uyu @bbmyungho @thedeeppoet @heeseung-lover686 @jeonncafe @bfwonu @fifty-shades-of-mischeif @blackwhiteandshadesofgradient @dreamhannies @yourfavoritefreakyhan @amethyistheart @jeonnyread @nap-of-a-starr @anidolecalledaoife [unable to tag?] @vernxnsfool

#wooahaes.fic #wooahaes.uts #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #joshua x reader #joshua hong x reader #joshua x you

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trivalentlinks · 1 year

Text

saw this cute reddit Am I the Asshole post by reddit user tway23421 with peak enemies-to-friends energy and thought my friends here might like it.

Also here's another enemies to friends story from its comment section with a similar energy, but from the rebellious asshole kid perspective (by reddit user D_OShae)

AITA (Am I the Asshole) abbreviations:

WIBTA = would I be the asshole

NTA = not the asshole

[Image ID

1st image: reddit r/AmITheAsshole

Posted by u/tway23421 11 hours ago

WIBTA for spraying some kid with my garden hose daily after he walks all over our lawn

I (37M) live with my wife (37F) and son and daughter ( 9 and 11 respectively).

Recently, there has been this kid who comes by our house after playing soccer and either rides his bike or walks over the lawn with his cleats on his way home.

It started out as me giving him stern looks whenever I saw him, then it slowly progressed to me asking him to just go around.

The last time I asked him to stop he made a point to stomp extra hard and twist his feet in to the grass to piss me off.

Since then Ive just been hosing him. The first time I sprayed him with the hose he ran off, but then for some reason he just started standing there while I hose him like he enjoys it.

Its now progressed to me sitting on my lawn chair pointing my hose at him, and him just staring at me while he does so. Sometimes we even make small talk.

Im ngl, it started off as a really bitter relationship, but Ive actually gotten to know the kid quite well, we talk for maybe 15-20 mins everyday, and he doesnt seem to mind being hosed down after sweating hard playing soccer.

He comes by daily and we just shoot the shit while I hose him and he stands there for a bit.

Wife told me I need to stop, even after I explained it to her she said Im making us look like childish idiots.

I guess I could stop, but honestly its really funny waiting for him to come by and I see no harm in it. WIBTA?

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Comment by D_OShae 4 hours ago:

NTA, and this is actually kind of sweet.

When I was in my teens, I used to visit a small greasy spoon (diner) where my friend was a waitress. This old guy (late 70s) came in every day at the same time and sat in the same booth. He would order one of three meals. One time I sat in "his" booth doing some homework (and drinking a ton of coffee refills). The man came in and told me -- not asked -- that I needed to move. I did. It happened again a couple of weeks later. He called me a little bastard for sitting his both. A couple of days later, I did it again on purpose. He called me a little bastard and told me to move. I moved my books. The man grumbled and sat down.

Over the course of about two months this scenario got repeated. Somewhere along the line I asked him about a ring he wore. The stories started to come out. I learned he and his late wife came to that restaurant for over 20 years to have dinner. I was sitting in her place. However, I kept asking questions, and he kept relaying his stories. This man lead an AMAZING life, and I listened to any tale he wanted to share. This went on for two years.

When he died at the age of 81, I went to his memorial. I met his children and grandchildren. When they asked how I knew him, I told them my tale. His children laughed because he called everyone a little bastard, male and female alike. Then I began to recount some of the stories he told me. His children verified some, but then they heard stories he never told them. I ended up meeting with his children several times to tell them everything he told me.

Mr. Banhke, I am not a believer, like I told you many times, but I still think of you and your incredible life. You are not forgotten.

]

AITA (Am I the Asshole) abbreviations:

WIBTA = would I be the asshole

NTA = not the asshole

#reddit aita #reddit #enemies to friends

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ginalinettiofficial · 3 months

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hey what’s up hello okay so i finally just finished s2 e52 of dndads (had a very crazy work week so was listening in bits and pieces) and here’s the thing is that im also currently relistening to the whole season and earlier in this week, the most recent episode i finished, was halt and catch fireball, and before that ya know was mrs. swallows oak garcia’s home for peculiar teens or whatever that one is called where they are just. at normal’s house and we got to actually get to know rebecca a little bit and i have got to say that i don’t know if i could’ve picked a more painful and wild older ep to listen to as a precursor to dood riddance i really don’t!!! literally half of the shit in dood riddance just circles back to that arc in the swallows oak garcia home and it’s CRAZY

like first of all. the red vines, which they called twizzlers the entirety of e52 which was MADDENING as a person who legit just finished e30/31 where the red vines were introduced

but then like. e31 is where taylor gets the anime sword from nick!!! that he loses in e52!!!

there were a few other things that i’ve forgotten in the half an hour since i finished the ep because my brain is a sieve on a good day and i’m just getting home from two back to back 13 hour shifts (with an extra 1hr10/20 each day for the commute) so the brain machine is so fucking broke rn

but mainly. i wasn’t loving e52 esp after dood left i just was not vibing with it, i feel like the vibes were off in the room in a way that translated into the ep for a bit there, but then anthony in those last like three minutes brought it back around and with the roll of rebecca??? after i legit JUST finished listening to the eps that feature her the most prominently and like truly showcase not only normal’s relationship w his mom but also, as is said several times in e30/31 and their teen talks, just how similar normal IS to his mom and how he really clearly is a total momma’s boy and very much so seemed to be a kid who sought solace with his mom more than anyone else in his family and just. having legit JUST reestablished that in my own, made the end of e52 DEVASTATING for me in a way that idk if it was for other ppl??? idk haven’t checked the fandom yet im very disconnected this season but just.

i think that okay so we have ten parents it could’ve been, right? and five of those are the kiddads, and none of us want to see them die, so in that moment when anthony was telling us what was gonna happen, obviously my instinct was like “oh god don’t do this don’t do terry jr again but truly permanent” and then my next instinct was that it would be potentially even MORE awful if it was scary’s dad because finally there he is and that’s ALL she wants and for willy to take that moment from her would be INSANE and then (mind you this was my thought process over the course of literally 10 seconds, my brain is ping ponging in my head and has been since the second i got in the car to head home i need to sleep) and THEN my next thought was, oh god, but how fucked up would it be if it were marco??? oh god, how fucked up would it be if it were cassandra?!?!?!?! and then it was time for the roll and truly in those brief seconds basically my brain flicked through every potential victim and said “oh god THAT one would be the WORST”, EXCEPT for veronica and rebecca, and it made the hit of it being rebecca who was low down on my instinctual list to think of but then the second he said her name i was immediately ricocheted back to earlier in the week when i was listening to halt and catch fireball and mrs. swallows oak garcias home and how many emotions i had about normal and his mom just relistening to those episodes and then the fact that i DIDNT think to worry about her just

all of that combined to make that a CRITICAL HIT FOR ME OKAY like i am SO fucked up over this truly that was WILD and i applaud anthony burch for it and now am excited for the finale even though ive spent the last three eps just dreading it for several reasons but now im excited and devastated and i love that

anyways. that was word vomit i just NEEDED to get this out because the connections between those two episodes really will not stop hitting me in the head and i need to impart that onto SOMEONE. if u read this. ur a real one. rip rebecca swallows oak garcia you were a legend and i am so sad about u

#d speaks #dndads #dndads s2 #dndads spoilers #dndads s2 spoilers #normal oak

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binaural-histolog · 5 months

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Erickson was a Creep

I had not planned to write this blog post or milkshake duck a popular hypnosis hero, but I went down one rabbit hole too many and something snapped into focus.

Milton Erickson was a creep.

There's no way to sugarcoat this. If he was practicing today, he would almost certainly be reported for his practices. Even for his time, he was thought of as creepy.

Richard Bandler notes in Trance-formations that Satir thought Erickson was creepy.

Virginia [Satir] had met Milton and thought he was creepy and didn’t want anything to do with him.

But we don't need to rely on Satir's personal opinion of him. We can cite sources.

Hilgard thought the same thing, although he is more indirect about it. From Milton Erickson as Playwright and Director / scihub link, Hilgard starts us off with a case where husband and wife pees the bed, and his solution is to have them deliberately wet the bed every night for two weeks.

You have your instructions. There is to be no discussion and no debating between you about this, just silence. There is to be only obedience, and you know and will know what to do. 1 will see you again in five weeks’ time. You will then give me a full and amazing account. Goodbye! [Volume IV, 1954, p. 100, emphasis in original].

It gets worse.

We have this example of what Erickson would do when his patient was sexually attractive, emphasis added in places.

One such pair of cases is provided by two disheveled girls with poor self-images, who were treated at different times. These patients differed in that one of them, although slightly overweight, he saw as sexually attractive, even in her present physical condition. The other, extremely overweight, could not appeal to him as sexually attractive, and these differences between the two influenced his choice of scenario. The first, the basically more attractive one, he prepared for the fact that he would shock her, but it would be helpful, dramatically so. “I will outline a course of behavior for you, and this you are to execute without fail. Do you give me your absolute promise [Volume IV, 1930s, p. 485]?” He then referred to her pubic hair as the pretty patch of fur between her legs, and requested that she look at herself in the nude that night before the mirror, examining herself particularly from the waist down and to be pleased by what she saw. “Try to realize how much you would like to have the right man caress your pretty pubic hair and your soft rounded belly” [Volume IV, 1930s, p. 486] The next night she was to examine the upper part of her body, admiring particularly her breasts. In each case she blushed profusely at the suggestions, but was then given amnesia for them, and carried them out, with additions of her own which she was not asked to describe. In the next session, Erickson, after having built her up, attacked her severely for her appearance, her lack of cleanliness, her unkempt hair, and the stains on the dress she had worn each time she came to see him.

When the patient is unattractive, there is no attempt to get her to caress her pubic hair and carry out unnamed additions in front of a mirror, and deal with resistance by giving her amnesia. It's right on to the abuse.

The second patient, the overweight one, he approached immediately with a severe and brutal tongue lashing about her homeliness and fatness and unkempt appearance. Note that in the first case this attack was delayed until some self-confidence had been restored. He was confident that in the second case, the only way she would know that he would be honest with her was to speak out harshly and aggressively. After listening to this onslaught, she agreed to go on in therapy. The behavioral practices assigned to her were numerous library assignments. One had to do with searching out anthropology books to find out how all kinds of misshapen women were able to find someone to think them attractive and marry them. Other assignments opened her eyes to practices in orthodontia, plastic surgery, cosmetology, and hair dressing. The treatment of these two patients with somewhat similar symptoms had in common only the shock of brutal assessment of their deficiencies, delivered at different stages of treatment, and the referral to store clerks to improve the manner in which they dressed.

Hilgard stops here, but the implication is clear: if Erickson thought a female patient was sexually attractive, his approach would include sexual elements.

This is further borne out by My Voice Will Go With You. Let's start by picking out Erickson's intervention with a "sexually numb" woman. It turns out that all she needed was for Erickson to describe a penis, and this is enough to give the woman her first orgasm.

A woman had secured a divorce because she went all numb sexually and this had troubled her husband very much. He couldn't stand living with an unresponsive woman. Then she had a number of boyfriends. She was now living with a man who was separated from his wife—a terribly sordid life. He wanted to have her as his mistress. He placed his children first, his wife second, his mistress third. And she didn't have any response at all. The man was a wealthy man. He gave the woman a lot of things she liked. And she said, "I'm just plain cold. I have no feelings. It's a mechanical thing For me." In a trance, I explained to her about how boys learn to recognize different feelings in their penis—when it's limp, a quarter erect, halfway erect, fully erect. How it feels when detumescence occurs. How it feels when the ejaculation occurs. And I explained to her all about wet dreams in boys. I said, "In every boy half of his ancestors are feminine. And what any boy can do, any girl can do. And so you can have a wet dream at night. In fact, you can have a wet dream any time you wish. In the daytime you may see a handsome man. Why not have one then? He doesn't need to know about it. But you can know about it." She said, "That's an intriguing thought." I noticed that she became abnormally still. Her face flushed. She said, "Dr. Erickson, you've just given me my first orgasm. Thank you very much."

There's another case that starts with a girl farting in the classroom. Erickson shows her his anatomy book, shows a cross-section of the rectum, and tells her to eat beans and start farting.

Then I told her, "Now, I want you to demonstrate earnest, honest respect for God. I want you to bake some beans. They are called whistleberries by the navy. Flavor them with onions and garlic. And get in the nude and prance and dance around your apartment, emitting loud ones, soft ones, big ones, little ones ... and enjoy God's work."

A year later, she's married and gets her breast to nurse her child in front of him. Success!

And she did that. A year later she was married and I made a house call to check up on her. She had a baby. And while I was visiting her, she said, "It's time to nurse the baby." She opened her blouse, exposing her breast, and fed the baby and chatted casually with me, A complete change of reference.

It gets worse.

A twelve old girl phones up Erickson and says "I had infantile paralysis and I have forgotten how to move my arms. Can you hypnotize me and teach me?" I want to know how she picked up the phone and called Erickson with her arms not working, but let's take this at face value, and assume this happened just like Erickson said. What does Erickson do? Have her strip to the waist in front of her mother.

I told her mother to bring her over and her mother brought her over. I looked at the girl. For a twelve-year-old girl she had a very well developed bust, except that the right breast was under her arm, I had the mother strip the girl to her waist and I looked over her entire torso to see what the muscles were.

Then he had the girl make faces repeatedly. No, really.

Now, when you start one muscle moving there's a tendency for that to spread to other muscles. You try to move just one finger. You start to spread the movement, unintentionally. Her arms began to move. Now, the right breast migrated from under her arm to one side of her chest. She is now a lawyer, practicing law.

So, the cause was that she had a breast under her arm. and it caused her arms to stop working. She needed Erickson to explain this. And the solution was to make faces. Can you imagine someone doing this in 2024?

He also asks his wife to check out his daughter's breasts.

In watching my daughters I discovered that happened somewhere around ten years of age. When, for example, Betty Alice was about ten years old and had to pick something off the bookcase or radio, she lifted her arm this way (as if to avoid a large breast). I told Mrs. Erickson, "When Betty Alice takes her bath have a look at her breasts." Mrs. Erickson came out and said, "There's just the beginning of a change in her nipples."

By all accounts, Erickson was driven by a deep-seated need to control, to the point that it damaged his relationship with his daughter. In Cardeña's review of Wizard of the Desert, he describes a section of the DVD.

One of Erickson’s daughters (and executive producer of the documentary) relates with sadness that growing up she could not have just a normal conversation with either her mother, who hyperintellectualized everything, or her father who, although not fully stated, seems to have been in therapist/teacher mode 24/7. Erickson is also described as punishing and sadistic in the demands he imposed on some of his clients, and it is evident that he blurred the boundaries between personal and professional life that therapists are expected to maintain.

Cardeña also says that maybe, just maybe, we should consider that a man who was known to lie to people for therapeutic goals might possibly be lying to his colleagues and students.

To muddy the waters even more, why have not some of the followers of a therapist known to fabricate false past stories to achieve therapeutic goals wondered whether he used that same technique in his writing and teaching?

There's more than this than just the personal creepiness, of course. Erickson's definition of a cure was essentially to conform into society, and you can see that in his definitions of success. Became a lawyer. Got married. The success and meaning is external. Bandler refers to it.

In many ways Milton was one of the most directive hypnotists you would ever want to meet. He only had five goals for people to get well: get out of the hospital, get a job, get married, have children, and send him presents. That was his definition of a cure.

And Erickson was not shy about taking credit for things that he should not have taken credit for. Going back to Hilgard, he describes the case of a WWII vet who Erickson touts as a success.

Harold was a veteran of World War 11 who entered treatment at the age of 23 with a poor background and a bad image of himself as a moron. He changed during treatment from a miserable unskilled laborer through a series of transformations, all the while convinced by Erickson that he was succeeding despite the fact that he was feebleminded. So powerful was Erickson’s strategic control through distorting his self-perception by way of hypnotic amnesia, distractions, redirection of attention, and confusion, that after learning shorthand and typing, serving as a private secretary for 18 months, and making A-grades in college, only then was he given permission to discover that he only thought he was feebleminded.

Erickson's priority was in getting this man fitted into society, and then dealing with his mental issues. And Erickson took credit despite the many, many people helping this man.

As I have noted earlier, despite his strongly authoritarian position as playwright and director, Erickson typically set the stage and the strategy, but left the tactics up to the patient. What is not so evident is the role of many others in producing the therapeutic successes: Joe, who enhanced Harold’s use of the library beyond the reading of children’s books; the married couple who befriended him at the trailer court; the friend who taught him to drive a truck; the transcriber and annotator of rare manuscripts with whom he lived and talked for a year and a half; his teachers (shorthand and typing, piano, guitar [?]), and his college teachers-all of whom are missing from the case study except for the briefest of mention of the piano teacher because she was a woman. [...]

Hilgard goes on to say that Erickson may have had a very direct warping presence on his patient through his control.

Harold’s life away from Erickson may have been very different from the way he appeared in Erickson’s presence. We do not know how fond he became of his teachers or they of him. Although he occasionally asked about Harold’s daily activities in detail, Erickson appears to have been more interested in his own cleverness than in finding out how Harold was perceived in the context of his daily life.

Hilgard says Erickson was essentially given carte blanche to behave however he wanted.

His hypnotic authority allowed Erickson to play the theatrical game of distortion and deception - insisting on Harold’s prolonged compliance with the belief that he was feebleminded. I cannot image any nonhypnotist attempting this, or, for that matter, any other hypnotist. This insistence appears to be specifically Ericksonian, fitting his love of dramatic strategies.

And Hilgard specifically calls out Erickson as doing this for his own personal gratification.

Was Erickson perhaps in some manner overcompensating for his physical weakness by enjoying the power that he achieved over his patients, and gaining vicarious satisfaction over the encounters he assigned them in the real world, some in areas denied to him?

And potentially not only misleading or misdirecting his peers, but also himself.

Had Erickson’s own dramatic way of planning and promoting his own cases led him to some self-deception in the cases as reported? He was unusually good at rationalizing whatever he happened to do, and occasionally appeared to justify failures by converting them into planned successes, as in the case of Harold’s failure in algebra.

The fact that so many of his stories include salacious and unnecessary details is an indication of what Erickson wanted from his patients: unquestioning obedience, humiliating and degrading instructions, gratuitous exposure of women's bodies, and all of it putatively for the patient's benefit.

Even at the time, people knew Erickson's behavior was creepy. As Hilgard notes, if Erickson did not have the stature and the myth associated with him that he had, he would have been treated very differently. His privilege and power protected him from consequence and enabled his behavior to go unchecked.

It is very doubtful that Erickson would have been able to do this in modern day times. He would have been reported, his instructions and conduct recorded. If a disciplinary board didn't deal with him first, he would be showing up on Youtube as a comedian's punch-line.

But the next time you think "What would Erickson do?"

Maybe don't do that.

#hypnosis #erickson #binauralhistolog

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