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#so maybe that's what happened here but I do get the frustration 😁
htchnr · 2 hours
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♰ 'bout damn time àŒ» C. HOWARD.*àłƒËš
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➻ masterlist. ➻ buy me a coffee!
CW ➻ mention of being a little hungover ⋆ Cooper being rude to Lucy (as always) ⋆ lowkey lovesick Cooper ⋆ other than that not much ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!
PAIRING ➻ the same reader x Cooper relationship from this drabble series!
SUMMARY ➻ after a while of travelling, seems all Lucy had to do was get rid of the Vault suit. OR, many times Cooper is nice to you, and one time he isn't mean to Lucy. WC ➻ 750~.
AUTHORS NOTE ➻ i'm taking a short break from writing! no longer than a few weeks don't worry! college finals are getting closer, plus life's getting pretty busy so i could use all the time i can get to take it easy and not over work myself. so here have a cute silly fic before i go on break 😁
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© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐹 𝐧𝐹𝐭 đœđšđ©đČ, đŹđĄđšđ«đž đšđ« đ­đ«đšđ§đŹđ„đšđ­đž 𝐩đČ đ°đšđ«đ€ 𝐭𝐹 𝐭𝐡𝐱𝐬 đ©đ„đšđ­đŸđšđ«đŠ, đšđ« 𝐚𝐧đČ đšđ­đĄđžđ«!
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Lucy notices Cooper's deep care for you through both little things.
those things would include giving you the first cooked skewer of meat off a fire, (not before he takes a piece off to taste or see if it might make anyone (you) sick.) he always has you walking in front of him, then Lucy in front of you. wether he does this so he can stare at your ass all day, or to make sure he can always keep an eye on you she'll never know.
he lends you his hat from time to time, mainly when your headaches are bad or he notices you could use some cover from the harsh sun of California. Lucy's even seen Cooper lend you his duster if it's particularly cold at night. hell, he even allows you to snuggle up to him for extra warmth. she mainly thinks he allows this so he can keep better watch on you, but a small part inside her thinks that he likes the comfort of your body against his.
despite him knowing you can more than handle yourself in a fight he always puts himself first, as if to scope out any possible things that could happen and catch whatever bad things come first.
and perhaps the thing Lucy has grown to adore the most, is watching Cooper wordlessly extend a hand to you — wether you fall behind a little and he reaches to hold your hand, or to help you get up. it almost feels like she's invading something intimate and personal when she catches glimpses of the actions.
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the market is loud and busy, full of people buying and selling a wide range of things. you had moved through town in the hopes for a hotel, the last bounty having paid more than enough for a few nice nights of sleep.
"hey, you need anythin'?" Cooper asks from beside you as the three of you walk through a busy market. "i'll do an extra poke 'round for whatever."
you nod, "i'm good i think," you reply, and Cooper looks at you with that 'yeah sure' look, as if to nudge you to think harder. looking down at your thin coat, you sigh, "okay.. maybe if you can find a better coat anywhere? winter's coming up and it would be very nice of you?" you smile at him, another warm autumn breeze blowing past.
he nods, scarred fingers rolling the caps around in his coat pocket. "well i would like some-" Lucy speaks up.
"zip it Vaultie, didn't ask." he huffs, raising a hand to pat your shoulder. "i'll be back," he nods to you, looking over your shoulder to give Lucy a sour, unamused look.
you nod back, "if we're not here in a bit we'll probably be back at the hotel, my feet are killing me and last night at the bar was too much," you groan, rolling your shoulders. Cooper nods, walking off.
you huff with a small smile before moving along the market stalls to peruse for more med supplies. Lucy scoffs behind you, walking up to your side. you look over to her, brows twitching with tired curiosity. "hm?" you hum, as if asking her what's up.
she shrugs, "how does he keep doing it?" she asks, her face displaying her confusion and frustration.
you shake your head, looking over at a stall. "what do you mean?"
"switching like that," she adjusts her backpack. "he's shockingly nice with you, asking you if you need anything, then when i pitch in all of that is gone and he snaps," she huffs.
you wave her off, "it's nothing personal," you reply, eyes glued to a stall selling a bunch of clothes. "well, probably anyway." you pull Lucy along with you, stopping before the stall. "you know what might lessen his snappy-ness towards you?" you turn to her, her big doe eyes blinking back at you.
"what?" she answers.
"getting rid of that Vault suit." you point to the massive crate full of clothes. "pick a few things out, i'll pay, and we'll call it a uh, little experiment, yeah?"
she thinks for a minute, the Vault suit did have it's benefits, but it was also a blaring neon sign telling people where she's from. which Lucy has learned the hard way that that's usually not beneficial anymore. she nods, hands moving to start sifting through the pile of clothes.
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the sun has long since set by the time the two of you got back to the hotel. you had briefly looked around the market for Cooper, but upon not finding him you decided to just head back to the hotel. you sluggishly walked up the steps, occasionally eyeing Lucy's new clothes. it sure took some getting used to, not having that hideous Vault suit to look at.
you stepped up the final stair, walking through the short hall until you reached the door of the room you were renting. you unlocked the door, finding Cooper lounging on a chair in the corner of the room. "hey," you offer, letting Lucy walk in before closing and locking the door.
Lucy eyed Cooper as you two came it, watching for any change in his expression. yet, she got nothing.
he groans as he gets up, grabbing his hat and chucking it on the bed you and him shared. he reached for something that laid on the bed, then chucked it your way. you caught the item, moving it around in your hands — a thick coat.
you grinned, "thank you! it looks my size too!" you put on the coat, grinning as it fits almost perfectly.
he cracks a small smile, nodding. "not a problem, dollface."
Lucy looks between the two of you, watching as you take the coat off and throw it over a chair. you set down your heavy bag and pull your boots off, throwing yourself face first into the bed. god that feels good, you think to yourself.
Cooper huffs, throwing his duster over your new(ish) coat. "c'mon move those legs, else you're sleepin' on the floor." Lucy's eyes widen, he'd never, right? though the tone in his voice doesn't hold an ounce of seriousness. well, just the part where he asked you to move.
you groan into the mattress, mumbling something he can't hear. "c'mon, move it doll," he grunts as he kneels on the bed, strong, scarred hands gripping your thighs as he shoves you to one side of the bed and goes to lay down not before landing a crude slap on your ass. he rests his head against the headboard, his hat tipped forward to cover his eyes.
you let out a long, tired sigh, turning to face him. you lay beside him, hands idly fiddling with one of his belts. you lean in closer, voice hushed. "y'know," sleep lacing your voice. "managed to get her to ditch the suit, it'd be nice if you would say something,"
Cooper's hairless brows furrow as he sighs. you let out a yawn, nudging your head against his shoulder as you slowly drift asleep, hands merely resting against his hip.
Lucy always finds herself quietly observing you two, watching the little strangely affectionate gestures between you and the man who seems to have it out for her. like now, she watches him sigh deeply, before lightly shaking his head.
"hey Vaultie?"
Lucy nearly jumps at the sound of his voice, even though it's quiet as to not wake you.
"yeah?" the corners of her lips almost twitching.
"'bout damn time you got rid of it."
Lucy's lips pull into a small smile. the comment might not have meant much to anyone else, but to her it was neutral, rather than his usual hostility. and she'll take any win, no matter how small.
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TAGLIST ; @live-logs-and-proper @looonytooons @seeingstarks @thewastelandwriter @lacey-mercylercy @marina-and-the-memes @p4rsuade @anonymous-creep @likoplays @iceviolet11 @https-junebug @silverose365 @athanza @songbirdemerald-blog @justt-myth @looneylooomis @v3lv3tf0x @keyofgigi
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brighttears · 11 months
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heyy bright 😁 so i’ve been realizing that i think most of your fics are Jackson/ after QZ joel (correct me if i’m wrong though, this is just what i think i’m noticing) and i’m wondering what are your thoughts on QZ Joel? would you ever write for him? (^Đ·^)-☆
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Joel Miller x f!reader
No physical description except female sex organs and having hair, no use of y/n
Word count: 9.7k
Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), unprotected PiV, dirty talk, pet names (baby, baby girl, sweetheart, angel, good girl), creampie, Joel has a big ol weiner, drinking, mention of violence, blood, mention of prostitution (does not occur, has not occurred in the past), smoking (cigar, cigs briefly), sad!Joel for a minute but happy ending :), Tess doesn’t exist (sorry Tess)
A/n: you are right i’ve been noticing that i lean too much on Jackson so thank u for this request and i’m gonna try not to do that. had no intention of this being this long it just kind of happened lol. i know i didn't explicitly answer your question but i hope this explains some? idk this just came out of me so here it is i hope you enjoy !!!
—
Boston is ugly. It’s impossible to breathe a clean breath, impossible to get clean. Joel’s lungs are black and he doesn't smile. He may sleep, but he gets no rest, and you can see it easily in his eyes. The QZ is full of sickness—lying, cheating, stealing, there's no honor here. It's impossible not to have some of it rub off on you. It's almost impossible to see anything past it. Almost.
The first time Joel saw you he felt like a rat stepping onto a glue trap. He hadn’t realized he had stopped to stare until someone bumped into his shoulder, taking him back into the bustling street, and then you’d disappeared and he honestly wasn’t sure if he’d actually seen that beautiful girl or not. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, dropping dreams or ghosts down just to make things interesting. He mostly shook it off. Still, only half believing that you were even real, he’d catch himself scanning around, looking for you out in the streets. And then he saw you again, and again, minding your business somewhere across the street, painting over Firefly logos while under guard’s watch—never somewhere that he could get to. Every time he saw you felt like taking a hit of you, and he always wanted more. Whenever he found himself with too little to do, he’d set out, treating Boston like a maze to find you, slipping around booths and through speakeasies and alleys. Despite how packed Boston is, goddamn, you were hard to find. He was aware that it wasn’t
 normal behavior, but that’s as far as he got in caring about that. It was a frustrating hobby, though, like an itch he couldn't scratch, because he didn’t understand what he was feeling, or what he wanted, or who the fuck you thought you were, doing this to him, or how he was going to get himself out of this one. He had to interrogate himself to figure out that what he wanted was for you to need him. 
He wanted you to be with him, never leave his side, never want to leave, and he’d be so good to you, he’d be the knight to your queen. You had him bad, you were driving him crazy. 
You had burrowed your way into his head. It was nice to have something to daydream about, though—your smile, a smile that he gave you, that’d be for him. He’d daydream about you dancing, you’d be twirling with your eyes closed, arms out, all lit up in orange light like evening sun but holier, and he’d reach out and your fingers would brush his and you’d smile with your eyes closed because you wouldn’t have to open them to know that it’s him. And then he’d spin you into his arms, wrap you up, hold you safe. He’d daydream about his hands on your stomach, holding your back against him, your hair on his face. He would dream about you taking his face in your hands, kissing him, loving him, fucking him. He imagined your voice—put together from small bites of ‘overheard’ conversations—telling him you’re his. 
They used to make rings for this shit. Now all you’ve got is metaphors and sex. What a world to love in. 
The problem with all of this, however, is that he wanted to know you already. Joel doesn’t know how to develop this kind of relationship, with anyone, actually, and he cringed at the idea of actually trying to do it. If he did even end up finding you, what the fuck was he supposed to say? He genuinely could not come up with an answer. So, thank god for Robert—never thought he’d be saying that, but on this day only, thank god for his cheap, dumbass tricks, and Joel’s dumbass for agreeing to trade with him, and being ripped off again, because that’s how you met. 
Being the coward he is, Robert had sent a third party to meet with you and him—apparently buying the same product—that somehow thought you wouldn’t check the goods, and then you spent the whole day together hunting that fucker down. You were the one who threw the first punch once you found him, and Joel liked that because he didn’t feel bad for hitting him, too. And then you got your ration cards back, and you came home with him. 
In just those few hours, a bond had formed, and all those days he’d spent looking for you fell away. Cliches were clicking in his head. He offered you his smuggled jungle juice and somewhere to clean off your bloody fist. 
Now, you’re here in his apartment, the door swinging softly shut behind you. Joel stands frozen across the room from you, a knee sticking out, unsure if you can feel the rope of tension between you or if it’s just him. He wants you here and it makes him uncomfortable. Mind blank and swimming at the same time, he’s not sure what to say. When he does, he can’t find the correct conduct, weakly and awkwardly jutting his chin out in a sort of nod. Finding himself unable to speak softly, his cadence is a mess that rolls through almost incoherently. He can’t believe how silly the sentence that came out of him is:
“Have you been lookin’ for me as hard as I’ve been lookin’ for you?”
You shift your weight. “Maybe.”
Joel barely ever has company. To be frank, the few times he’s had women over, it’s been for sex, and the longest they stay is if they fall asleep, and they’re almost always up and gone before he wakes. So, here is a beautiful woman in his apartment, and he wants you, so his first instinct is to get you in bed. That doesn’t feel right though—not because he doesn’t want to fuck you, but because he wants more than that. He doesn’t want a one night stand. He wants to savor you. He wants to know you. He wants you to stay. 
The unfamiliarity and lack of clarity of what to do here frightens him. 
“So you got a rag I can stain?” You break the silence for him, holding your hand to massage your palm with your thumb. 
“Yeah, uh,” Joel walks into the kitchen, flicking his eyes around. He knows what rag you can use but he forgot that it might be too embarrassing to bring out. There are not many options though, he can’t let you use the one clean rag he does have. 
“If you can’t find one it’s alright, I can use my shirt, I just need the sink.”
Joel turns to you, taken off guard, but catches telling details when he looks you up and down. Your jeans are dark so you can’t immediately see that there are brown stains around the ripped knees, and lines of more old blood are swiped over the side of your thigh, which he knows come from wiping off a blade. Realizing that you do in fact live in the same world as him, Joel opens a crooked drawer and pulls out a rag that used to be white but is now mostly brown with dried blood. Without looking at you, he wets the somewhat stiff cloth in the sink and hands it to you.
You barely pause, taking it casually. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” He mumbles, hiking up his jeans and trying to covertly watch you wipe away at your hand. A large part of him wants to take your hand in his, wipe and dab at it himself, make sure it’s clean, and then bandage it, slowly and carefully. He wants to take care of you, show you gentleness and kindness, but, no matter how much he wants to be soft and personal, to connect, he seems unable to actually act on it. His face flashes in self depreciation before he instead goes to the floorboards in his bedroom, fishing around for that drink he promised you. 
A smile spreads over your face as he emerges back with the bottle and Joel almost stops dead in his tracks at it, at him, because of him. Well, because of alcohol, but he was the one providing it, at least. 
He trades you the bottle for the rag and you waterfall it while he scrubs drying blood from between his fingers. Your face twists up as you swallow and you laugh. 
While he watches yours, Joel can feel his lip curling up and he asks, “What’s that for?”
“This shit is pure. I’m used to it being watered down.”
“Oh, yeah. Got that from Robert, actually.” He tells you, motioning towards it. “One of the only times he’s been useful.” 
“What are the other times?” You stay smiling.
Joel mindlessly circles the rough cloth over top his hand and looks down when he answers, “Well, today.” Because he brought me to you. These half–admittances are escapees, like his brain can’t help but be truthful with you. No matter how much one side screams ‘danger’ at the other, he needs to do something to make an attachment, he needs you to know that he wants you around, he can’t let you slip away. He can’t get himself to say that last part, though.
You hum and hold the bottle out to him. He swipes the rag over his hand one last time, then tosses it onto the table and takes the bottle, wishing you’d let your lips around it so he could get a taste of you without taking any risks. 
Risks. What is he willing to do for this? For this feeling? How far is he willing to be taken with it? He can barely grasp the ideas behind it. It’s familiar, but what is it? How much does he care about its definition? He swigs. 
“Have you traded with Robert a lot?”
Joel nods as he swallows with a grimace, then elaborates, “You could say that. More like been ripped off by ‘im a lot.”
“So you’re a chump?” You smirk. 
Joel halfheartedly glares at you and you only smirk further. “No. Just desperate. Not a lot of options.” He passes the bottle. 
“So you’re the kind of guy who takes what he can get.” You say before raising it, to your lips now.
He almost chuckles, watching your mouth, “I didn’ take shit, remember?” 
You shrug and hand him back the bottle. “So what are you gonna do with all those ration cards now?”
Joel focuses on being able to tell what of what he’s tasting is the alcohol and what is you. He licks his lips after he swallows. “Don’t know yet
 What’re you gonna do?” 
“I was thinking about buying a really expensive coat. Like a mink's fur coat.” Joel gives you a look like he’s not completely sure if you’re being serious or not. “I’m kidding. I’m getting fucking food. I’ve been skipping a meal a day for the last two weeks saving up for what we didn’t get.”
As he hands you the bottle again, the thought of that pangs Joel’s chest. If you stay with me, you’ll never have to do that again. I can provide for you. “I have food.”
You stare at him as you lift the bottle to your lips, and after you swallow, say “I’m not asking for your food.” Your face is straight and voice bristled.
“No, I know,” Joel stammers, “I was just offerin’—”
“I don’t want your food.” You shove the bottle at his chest and cross your arms once he takes it, leaning back a foot.
An offer like that is no longer simple friendliness, but Joel didn’t think about that before he spoke. Intentions mean less than jack shit and social rules are more like laws to live by these days; you probably think he’s trying to bargain for sex. “I’m sorry,” Joel closes his eyes and shakes his head, “that’s not what I meant.”
“Yeah, ok, well, thanks for the drink, I’ll see you around.”
“No, wait, I’m sorry,” he reaches out for your arm, and even though he lets go as soon as he closes his hand around it, it’s enough to scare you away entirely and you rush out of his apartment without looking back, slamming the door shut behind you. He jerks it right back open, holding himself in the doorway with another “Wait,” as he watches you barrel down the hallway and disappear down the stairs. “Fuck.” He whispers. Joel retreats back into his apartment and slams the door behind him, stopping just inside to rub his hand over his forehead. It’s a fair reaction on your part, he just happened to be the 1% of people to make a move like that not intending to harm you. 
This is the exact opposite of what he was going for. His hand slaps to his side as he lets it fall. 
As Joel’s eyes wander over the table, he catches something in his peripheral, and spots two ration cards. They’re not his, they must have fallen out of your pocket. 
Like a shot, Joel snatches them up and is out the door, bounding down the steps and throwing himself out through the front door. He skids to a stop just outside, turning left and right until he spots you still making haste away from his place. “Wait!” He calls out again as he weaves through the street toward you. When you stop and turn to him his hand shoots up, showing you the cards. 
You shoot daggers and as soon as he’s in front of you, bark, “I’m not a fucking prostitute. I’m not gonna fuck you for food.” 
“No, no, count your cards, these aren’t mine, they’re yours. I swear.”
Still glaring, you pull the stack out of your back pocket and flip through them. When you finish, you bite the inside of your cheek, shove them into your pants instead of your pocket, and hold your hand out for your missing two. You’re staring him straight in the eyes as he hands them over and you add them to the rest, and then your expression softens. Joel takes this opportunity to try to have you give him another chance.
“I swear, I didn’t mean any a that like that. I know how it sounded, I wasn’t thinkin’. I’m not lookin’ for anythin’ like that. I swear.”
You chew on your lip for a moment. “Okay. Fine.” You blink and pull at your waistband. 
Joel takes a deep breath, but his relief is short lived. Shit. Now what? I can’t ask her to ‘come back to my place’, and if I ask to walk her home she’ll probably think the same fucking thing. Joel is not used to trying to gain someone's trust. What would convince him? No answer comes. 
Gravel shifts under your foot as you turn more towards him, resting a hand on your hip and cocking your head. Suddenly, Joel feels pressure under your gaze and readjusts his posture, straightening, but struggles with his gaze. The interaction is one of assessing dominance—more of you checking his. Joel grinds his jaw with his eyes focused down on the hand on your hip. This goes against instinct, which would be to puff out his chest, cross his arms, raise his chain to glare down his nose. He is not afraid of you, you’re not trying to threaten him, and he understands what you’re doing and that he needs to convey a level of submitance; he owes it to you now that he’s made you suspect he’s trying to manipulate you into sex. His throat bobs as he swallows his pride, then shifts his eyes back up to yours. When you relax, he lets out a breath and follows. 
“Okay, look,” you begin, “I’m not helpless just because I’m a woman, I can carry my fucking own, you should know that by now, but
 I know Robert’s got guys, and I am aware of the risk of being a woman, and I also respect the buddy system. So, walk with me?” It’s your turn to struggle with your gaze, flipping your eyes between his and the ground.
A confetti cannon goes off in Joel’s head. “Alright.” He nods.
“Alright.” You nod back, take a step backwards, then turn back to where you were heading originally. The two of you fall into an even stride, silently focusing on your death stares as you journey through the loud, filthy, reeking streets of the Boston QZ. Joel thinks he spots a couple suspicious characters as you walk and is grateful that he came after you and that you let him walk you home. 
The sky’s blue is beginning to darken and the crowds are dwindling. Curfew is fast approaching, but Joel doesn’t want to ask you how much further, because, for one, he doesn’t want there to be a whiff of doubt that he’s no less than happy to be doing this, and, if it does get to be too late, maybe you’ll let him spend the night. It’s unlikely that you’ll be having sex, but that’s fine; he guesses you’re right, he is the kind of guy who will take what he can get.
“Okay, you’re free to go.” You snap Joel out of his thoughts, pulling out a bit of disappointment that you’re already here. Your building is short and wide, with graffiti littering the bottom and most of the low windows boarded up or taped over with rustling plastic. A burly and sunburnt young man smokes a daring cigarette on the steps and you exchange amicable nods with him.
Joel pauses, looking around and hiking up his pants trivially. The lack of promise that he’ll ever be able to speak to you again stirs anxiety in him and he searches again for the right thing to say. “Alright, well, it was nice to meet you.” He struggles again with some kind of cordial inflection, nodding and clearing his throat.
“You, too. I’ll see you around.” You nod back, then add a reassuring “Okay?”
Joel nods again, staying to watch you go. Once you’re out of sight, he takes a deep breath. The man on the steps spits and eyes Joel, so he leaves, hustling back to make it before curfew. 
Back in his apartment, Joel returns the alcohol back under the floor and his bloody towel into its drawer. He strips his flannel, removes his boots, and lays back on his bed, the setting sun casting a sheet of orange over his body. Pulling his pillow under his head and folding his arms behind it, Joel sighs loudly and shuts his eyes. Today was fucking exhausting, more for his mind than body. It has been the strangest day he’s had in a long time. Laying with his eyes closed, Joel picks through his mind for explanations and answers. What’s happening inside of him? What is he looking for? What happened today? His brow pinches as he wracks and wracks. 
Friend. When the word surfaces it breaks with panic and Joel jolts into a sitting position. Girl–friend. He forgot that that’s even a word. He rubs his face with his hand until he feels like he knows where he is again. What the fuck going on with him? Does he think, what, that he’s gonna take you on a ‘date’? And go where exactly? One of those slimy speakeasies, stay for five minutes until a fight breaks out and/or FEDRA fucking crashes it? Oh, yeah, how about spending the night sitting in opposite cells? That would allow for a lot of alone time, except for the fully armed and immoral guard. He could take you out past the walls, maybe find an abandoned restaurant and hope neither of you get bit or killed while checking it out so that you can sit down on dust caked chairs to clink glasses full of dirt.
That shit isn’t possible. Joel lets himself fall back into the mattress. 
Maybe a quick fuck will do the trick after all. 
But, still with that thought comes a gust of dread as he imagines then seeing you out on the street in the days following and having to avoid eye contact. Well what if you could just keep having sex? And just, hang out, you know, maybe if you could
 come to live with him and then that way—fuck. That’s like dating. 
‘Dating’ sounds so stupid, like you’re going to go sit at a diner sipping the same milkshake with two straws. 
Well what if you’re just as fucked up and broken as he is? Would that make it any better? Then he wouldn’t scare you if he gets night terrors because you get them, too, and you’d understand about the violence and bloodshed. Thinking more on it, though, Joel realizes that all that that would really mean is that you probably have the same amount of fucking issues with ‘friends’. 
“Shit.” 
Joel flips to his side, shoving his arm under the pillow again to press his face into it. He’s lost, and fucked. Maybe the answer will come to him in the morning. Probably not, but he’s fucking tired, so let’s just say it will. 
—
The morning brings no answers, only more confusion and anxiety. His head has become jumbled in the night and Joel’s not sure about any of it anymore. 
Too close. He doesn’t even know you. You could be one of Robert’s guys, for all he knows. No, that makes no sense. If you were going to rob him you would have already. What else could you want? Jesus, did you drug him? He knows the truth, that he has feelings for you, he just really does not want that to be the case.
But, at the same time, there is the brown haired puppy dog that still lives in him, dreaming up how to get you flowers and how much he likes your hair and your eyes and how you talk. You’re a beautiful person, both in the surface level, physical sense, but also as an individual being. Even though you’ve only known each other for a day, he has seen enough to understand that you are, at least to a level, a safe person. Tulips, he needs to find tulips for you. 
Either way, he just needs to find a way to slow this all the fuck down. 
He shouldn’t get involved with you. You shouldn't get involved with him. He shouldn't trust you. You don't know who he is. He could change for you. You’re gonna get him killed. He’s gonna get you killed. The life he wants with you isn’t possible. He’s the kinda guy who will take what he can get. God, he needs to fuck you at least. Goddamnit, he doesn't want you to think that's all you are to him. Can’t you at least just be friends? What does that even mean? He wishes he never met you. He immediately takes that back. Why is this happening to him? Both sides of him can dig that last one. 
Joel groans and rubs his face with his hands. He stands, stretching his arms up and squeezing his eyes shut against the bright yellow morning light. His arms drop down to scratch at his chest over his sleeveless undershirt. Socked feet sweep over the hardwood floor over to the kitchen where he slaps cold water from the tap onto his face. Noticing wisps of blood still on his hands, he scrubs at them with his nails under the water. He forgot to sign up for any work today because he spent all day yesterday dealing with Robert, and
 hanging out with you. 
With another whiney groan, Joel swats the faucet’s handle off and plants his hands on either side of the sink, letting water drip from his nose as he stares into the drain. Hanging out? People do that. He’s seen people just kind of sit around somewhere and talk, not doing deals, but, like, on their porches, sitting on side by side folding chairs. Yeah, people hang out. He imagines himself asking you if you want to ‘hang out’; he’s chewing gum with sunglasses and a backwards hat on, you’re in pigtails and reject him and he kicks rocks on his way home. 
He has had friends before, but it was from traveling in a group, trying to survive, when you kind of have to spend all your time together. There’s little choice and little room to decide if you actually like this person, little time to even actually get to know them, and they die a lot. That’s what he’s used to, and that is not what he wants with you. 
“The fuck am I doin’.” Joel mutters to himself, watching trails of water shine as they trickle down towards the drain. 
Soft, fully brown haired Joel swings his legs on one of his shoulders: “Go out n’ see if she’s around.”
Baggy–eyed, forever frowning Joel digs his fingers into his other shoulder: “If you ever see her again, you better walk the other fuckin’ direction.”
Puppy dog Joel furrows his brow and leans over to look at the other: “She’s a nice girl.”
Morose Joel glares back: “No such fuckin’ thing. An’ if she is, we’ll fuckin’ ruin ‘er.”
“Jesus. You’re paranoid. Can’t you just let us be happy?”
“No such fuckin’ thing.”
Joel smacks his hand to his forehead and pushes away from the sink. He lifts the bottom of his white shirt to rub his face dry and goes to sit back down on his bed to pull on his shoes, grabbing his other flannel and finishing buttoning it as he walks down the hall to exit his apartment building. He’s not sure what he’s doing—not admitting that he’s going to end up heading in the direction of your apartment—but he needs to get out of his head, and the QZ offers plenty of distractions. Here’s one now, as soon as he steps outside—
“Hey friend,” 
Joel whips around to the voice at the corner of his building, a man his size but wiry, with saddle brown skin and an overly genial smile. 
“You look lost.”
Joel narrows his eyes.
“Well, if you’re feelin’ lost—”
“Give me a fuckin’ break.” Joel cuts in. “That shit is meaningless. Hope is dead, jackass.” 
The man’s face instantly falls, disheartened, and he leans his shoulder against the brick. Joel huffs and moves on, shaking his head. That look makes a small part of him remorseful, like a thorn in his side, so he decides to stop at a speakeasy. 
He has to squint against the rising sun as he walks, so he doesn’t catch you until you’re right on him, asking, “Where’re you headed?”
Joel freezes, placing his hand on his brow to shade his eyes to see you smiling. Like remedied, all that anxiety and apprehension rolls off of him like water off a duck's back. “For a drink.” He answers, returning a serene smile. 
“Don’t you have that at home?”
“Yeah, well I jus’
 wanted to get outta there.” He shifts out of the suns glare. 
You hum and nod. “I get that. What about my place? I don’t have alcohol, but I do have a cigar.”
Joel’s eyebrows shoot up. “A cigar?”
You nod. “Well they didn’t have any mink coats, so I got the second best thing.” Your mouth twists up into a mischievous smile and you swivel your torso back and forth. When Joel’s lips start to curl, you turn, watching him over your shoulder as you walk until he joins you. 
When the two of you get to your apartment, the young burly man is still on the steps; he winks at Joel as he follows you past, and Joel stares back until the door shuts behind him. Inside, as he follows you up the narrow, winding staircase, he spends the entire five-flight journey to the top floor conflicted about where to let his gaze fall. 
“Alright, this is my floor.” You glance over your shoulder at him then grab the door frame to swing into the tight hallway. “End of the hall.”
Your apartment is much smaller than his, and wide. Cracked, off white paint cries uneven, chipped stripes that reach up to the crown molding. Your bedroom is to the immediate right, a narrow room opened by two glass double doors. At the opposite end is another glass door, tall, that opens up to a fire escape. To his left is your kitchen, which is just the wall lined with cupboards, a sink, and white refrigerator. In front of him, a couch is half visible, the rest hidden behind the corner, under a row of three windows. Like his, the curtains are thin torn pieces of fabric. Just before the corner next to the entrance to your bedroom is a gray folding table with three tan metal folding chairs. Walking in, Joel can see in your room a twin bed with rosy sheets and no headboard, its head shoved in the space between the tall glass door and the wall with a thin pillow and singular white sheet. He hopes you have a bunch of other blankets shoved somewhere he can’t see, because it’s only barely summer anymore. The long wall opposite is taken up mostly by bookcases, which hold some books but mostly by all sorts of other things, including clothes. A ragged chair sits next to it, back facing him. Shoved in between the shelves and the tall glass door is a tall lamp, a thin piece of pink fabric laying over a disfigured shade. The carpet is worn and somewhat cluttered; right next to that chair is a pair of lacy black underwear. Joel rips his eyes away from it back to you in front of him, disappearing around the corner for only a moment before reappearing with a fat, half smoked cigar. You twist it in your fingers with a wide smile, flipping open a Zippo lighter in your other hand. 
“How did you get that?” Joel asks, astonished. He hasn’t seen a cigar in years but has dreamt about smoking one more than once. 
“My friend on the steps outside. Don’t tell anyone, though. Come on,” you nod your head back around the corner and he follows you into a cramped, mellow blue and yellow tiled bathroom. You push out a small broken crank window high up on the wall, pull the door shut behind Joel, and light up the cigar. Leaned against the sink, Joel watches you, very aware of the close quarters. The end of the cigar lights up deep orange and crackles. Your brow is furrowed, Joel can see the hairs of your eyebrows and lashes, a tiny scar in the corner of your eye over the bone of your eye socket. When you pull away, dense smoke snakes out of your mouth. You look down at it as you attempt smoke rings, getting one good one but failing at the rest. When you laugh the rest of the gray puffs out of your mouth. 
“Damn it.” you giggle, and hand the cigar and lighter to Joel.
He has to relight it and watches the flame over the end. He sucks in stale, earthy smog; it tastes ancient, but still has some of that discernable cigar flavor. As it fills his mouth, Joel closes his eyes, leans his head back and moans before opening his mouth to let the smoke leave. His eyes are on you as they open, and yours are half lidded, focused on his mouth, a slight smile on your lips. They slowly crawl back up to his eyes, and you look away. Joel takes another puff and makes a sound to get your attention, attempting rings as well, not doing much better than you did. 
You hold your hands out, “Ok, let me try again.” You take your time and Joel watches your tongue working in awe. You make a good three rings. Smoke puffs out of your mouth again when you smile at him and pass the cigar back. 
Joel focuses his efforts on the rings but keeps his eyes on you watching his mouth. As you do, your smile grows, eyes half lidded again, and you lean your back against the window’s wall, turning your head to see him blow four perfect rings. 
“You’re good at that.” You chuckle, staying on his mouth even after he’s done. He takes another puff. 
“Practice, I guess. Even though it’s been awhile.”
You hum and finally tear your eyes away from his mouth. He offers the cigar but you shake your head, “That thing is nasty, I’m afraid I’ll throw up if I take one more puff. You can keep it.”
“You sure?”
“Mhm. All yours.”
“Thanks.”
“I got it with you in mind, anyway.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. You look like a cigar guy.”
“Well, what did I do to deserve this?” 
Your eyes go back to his mouth. “Nothing, I guess
 I knew it’d get you over here.” You look down and smile.
Joel sucks in murky smoke, letting it fill his mouth, and wonders how you taste. He’s never wanted someone's saliva in his mouth so much. He reaches behind him to balance the cigar on your sink to let it extinguish on its own. “I won’t make you watch me smoke that whole thing. I’ll take it home with me.” Turning back, he looks you up and down, admiring you, and says, “Thank you.” Those are another set of words that Joel cringes at, but he means it, and he needs you to know that he is grateful for this. The last gift he got was a box of bullets from Tommy on his birthday—not to say that’s a bad gift, or that he’s ever expecting anything on his birthday, but, you gave him a gift, just because, and it’s a luxury. He can’t believe you’re real, he wants to reach out and touch you just to be sure. 
“Mhm.” You smile, lifting your fist to rest your lip on, laying your other arm over your torso to support your elbow. Joel drifts over the details—the edge of your lip poking out from where it presses on a finger, the muscle and bone structure of your wrist. He fully appreciates the color of your skin as he follows it until its end at what he can see of your collar, how your chest shapes around the position of your arms. He sees you briefly squeeze your arm around yourself and his eyes are on your hips when he hears your foot shift under you and your body moves a little closer to him. 
“Joel?” Your quiet voice brings him back, and you’re blushing.
“Hm?”
Your eyes flutter and you push yourself off from the wall, moving your hand to scratch the back of your head, then face him, though still not looking at him, “Nothing, um, I dunno,” you chuckle nervously. 
“What?” He coaxes, growing a light smile.
You finally look at him, folding your arms over your chest and cocking your head as you ask, “Do you have anything going on today?” 
“No.”
“Me neither.”
Could this be what he thinks? Are you asking him to ‘hang out’?
“Do you wanna
 hang out?”
Good lord in heaven, you are. 
“Yeah.” He says, then blinks, shifts, and repeats more enthusiastically, “Yeah.”
“Cool.” You offer a small, twitching smile. “Well, we can get out of this tiny bathroom.”
“I don’t mind it.” The truth suddenly jumps out of Joel and as soon as it’s out, he looks at his feet. Please, please, please, don’t let this be him ruining it, again, because second chances are basically extinct. 
“Why not?” Your tone is light, not angry or affronted. He looks back up, pausing to consider you, how beautiful you are, how much he really does enjoy being this close to you. The more he realizes how few inches are separating you, the more he aches for your body on his. He swallows hard. Is he being sleazy? 
You shift closer and his heart rate picks up. “I mean, I don’t really mind it either.” A light blush blooms over your face and Joel’s lips inadvertently part. When you move closer still, Joel straightens up from the sink, letting his hands rest at his sides, hoping you want them on your hips. “I like being close to you.”
“I wanna be closer.” Joel tells you quietly, then swallows hard again. 
Out of the corner of his eye, while he focuses on your face, Joel sees your hand rising cautiously, then feels it rest on his shoulder. He permits his hands to your hips. 
From there, naturally and easily, you connect. Your lips touch softly when they meet, then promptly conquering more of each other’s, and finally he tastes you, a pure elixir, and hangs onto your lip with his teeth so that he can raise the dose. Joel breathes deeply through his nose as he savors and his hand brushes up your hip, catching under your shirt and pulling it up slowly with it; feeling your skin warm and bare under his touch shoots directly into his veins. You remove your mouth from his to instead purr into his neck and Joel moans, then adds quietly, “Jesus.” You chuckle before refocusing your lips, gently nipping at and skimming over his skin. His hand glides up to the back of your head and he softly moans again. Lazily, Joel allows you to start slowly unbuttoning his flannel, appreciating his contact with your body and your sensitive touch on his neck. The only way he knows he’s not dreaming is because of your pinching teeth. Once his flannel is undone you smooth your hands down the length of his torso, fingers slipping off of him just before his belt, then come back up, slowing on his shoulders for permission to slip the shirt. Joel takes his hands off of you for the three seconds it takes to pull his flannel off, feeling your hot breath on his neck as you pull away with his shifting. Your eyes meet again and Joel’s heart flutters at how large your pupils are. He watches them move down to cross over his shoulders, your hands following your eyes, and then you look back up at him and bite your lip. Like you’ve flicked a switch with this simple movement, Joel takes your mouth with his tongue and grabs your hips to pull against his. Briefly, he regains composure to check, “Is this ok?” and you confirm with a nod back into his lips, slinging your arms around his neck and rolling your hips. “That a girl,” it escapes him, scaring him for only a moment, but you whine an encouraging moan and press yourself into him. The force leans Joel back over the sink and he has to throw a hand back onto it to keep himself steady.
“Shit, ok, this room is too small now.” You chuckle into each other’s lips and then you pull away, keeping a grip on his hand as you turn the knob and take him around the corner into your room. 
Standing just before your bed, you turn back to him and take his face in your hands, sliding your palms over his beard, fingertips on rough skin. They slip into his hair as you bring his face to yours, working back in your welcome tongue. His hands slither around you and then he squeezes you into a hug, relieving his ache for your body, relishing in the pressure of his hold. As you breathe out your head falls back and Joel moves in, licking into a hickey, too absorbed to give a shit about leaving marks. When a hand travels down to your ass and squeezes, you make a sound and hitch your body up. 
“You like that?” Joel purrs, fully loose lipped and glued back on yours. When you ‘mhm’ into his mouth he squeezes again, hiking you up himself. 
“Joel,” his lips force you to mumble.
“What is it, babygirl?”
All you do is whine, but your answer is in the hand that slides between your bodies to cup the stiff bulge between his legs. 
“You want me to fuck you?” He basically growls, sliding the hand up from your ass to grip your side and the other up to your face, stroking his thumb over your cheek and forcing you to meet his eyes. There’s a desperate tweak in your brow that tells him all he needs to know but he waits for you to say it. 
“Yes,” you whimper, and then he walks you back onto your bed, the two of you falling onto it with little pause with mouths and hands. Messily, he licks and nibbles at your lips and paws at your chest. Your hands spread over his thick, bare shoulders and biceps, legs shamelessly widening more than they need to under his hips, then hook and pull when he doesn’t bring them down himself. 
“You’re fuckin’ horny, huh?” He asks with a slight smirk.
“I just want you. I just want you.” You mumble.
Joel’s brow twists up and he kisses you deeper. You want him, you want him, you want him. “I want you so much, baby. God, I need you. I’ve been wantn’ you so bad since the first time I saw you,” the words are doing nothing more than spilling out of him, but he’s gone now, “so beautiful, such a beautiful girl. You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes,” you breathe out, tugging his shirt up his back. 
Joel pushes himself up to stand on his knees and pull his undershirt up and off, then stays over you, panting. Slowly, mindfully, his hands smooth up your body, hooking his thumbs under your shirt, lifting it. You watch his eyes and lift your arms when his hands ask. He slips your shirt off carefully and lets it fall on the floor, and then you’re bare underneath him. The adoration is palpable in his touch as he smooths his calloused hands from the V of your waist over your belly, splitting to slide over your sides but meeting again on your chest. He pets your breasts, teasing your nipples with fleeting touch, and then suddenly dips his body down to lick and tenderly nip one of your nipples. Then his wet lips drag up your collar, your neck, and back to your lips, and his mouth and tongue are gentle but passionate. Joel cherishes every touch you share. Then, your hands go back down to the bulge under his jeans, one rubbing over the cup while the other tugs at his belt. He chuckles into your lips and then rises again to undo his belt. When you try to tug down your pants you both understand the trouble and Joel hoists his legs over you to stand beside the bed, letting you up with him so that you can both undress as quickly and easily as possible. For a moment all there is is the sound of belts clicking and fabric brushing against skin. For whatever reason, you both start to laugh breathily until reattaching mouths smother it out. You fall back on the bed, your legs back open, and Joel wastes little time getting his hands on his dick, unable to help himself from a few strokes before he positions himself at your entrance, swiping his tip up and down your wet slit. Laying his forearm on the bed allows him to stroke your cheek with his thumb. 
Nearly slurring, Joel asks, “You ready for me baby?” 
“Mhm,” you nod, “I want you, Joel, please,”
“You don’t need to beg, sweetheart, I gothcu,” he kisses you tenderly, but it breaks as he fills you and you both moan. Joel’s forehead rests briefly on your lips when he looks down to watch himself pushing into you, his fingers pinching his base to guide himself, he prizes this picture of him in between your legs, opened wide for him. As he fits his large, stiff member inside of you your fingers comb through and then grip his hair, making him moan. “Goddamnit baby, what a good girl, takin’ me like this. I know it’s a lot. I know.” He assures you as you squeal, toes curling as he plugs you up. Joel swings his head back up, biting his lip as he watches your face, impressed with himself when he sees your pupils almost disappear back into your head. He nips at your lips but your mouth stays open until he stills his cock inside of you. 
You groan, “Oh my god, Joel,”
“Yeah?” He mumbles as he begins to move. You clench around him when you moan and he swears, moving his head down to bite your neck gently as he continues to take himself in and out. He smiles when your hands claw at his back and release his teeth to speak, “Such a good girl for takin’ me like this. You’re a fuckin’ angel.”
“Ok, Joel, I’m good, I’m good, please fuck me,”
Joel growls and links his teeth on your lip again. “Told you darlin’, no need to beg, I’ll give you what you need. How do you want it? You want it hard?”
“I don’t fucking care just fuck me,”
Jesus, if heaven’s real this is what it’ll be. 
Joel trusts your word and starts to fuck you how he wants—deep and hard, pounding your pussy in final satisfaction of the need he’s been pinned with since the moment he saw you. The room is full with the sounds of your moans and skin on skin.
“God, look atchu, pretty girl, god, your pussy’s so fuckin’ tight for me.” The sensation of him bumping your cervix and your cunt enveloping him fully is keeping him going like he’s a quarter operated ride that someone slipped fifty cents into. “That feel good, baby? Huh? Does that feel good?” You slap your hand onto the wall above you to keep your head from hitting it with the force of Joel’s thrust and repeatedly breathe out yeses. Joel groans at how your nails dig into his shoulder. “Tell me, tell me how good it feels,”
“Yes, Joel, it feels so good, you fuck me so good,”
“That’s righ’, baby. Gonna treat you so good. So good. So good baby you feel so good.” Joel leans his head back as bottoms out. When you almost scream, Joel stops, frightened, “Shit, you ok?”
“I’m fine Joel,” you laugh, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. It was—it was good, that felt really good.”
“Oh, alright, I’m sorry, I’m—”
“No, no, I’m fine, Joel it’s good,”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, fuck—ok—” you push Joel up and his heartbeat quickens with anxiety. Unsure, he simply follows your movements, climbing off of you, letting you tug his arm and flopping back on the bed for you to mount him. 
Now sitting up on your knees on top of him, you study him. “You’re so fucking hot, pretty boy.”
A wide smile spreads over Joel’s face, pumping rosy cheeks, and he throws an arm over his eyes modestly. The reaction is spontaneous, Joel being unprepared for such praise. 
“You are!” You giggle, moving his arm and dropping on your elbows to kiss him. One of his hands goes to your hair and he squeezes your hip with the other with eager grip. You rise back up, a line of spit briefly linking you, and your hand trails down over his chest until it comes to his cock, bulging over his stomach. He twitches and breathes out as your hand slides over it and he beholds you above him. 
“Fuck,” you purr when you slip him in. Joel strains his arms down to grip your thighs, breathing out a loud moan. “Shit.”
“Goddamn,” he whispers, then says, “come on, baby, take all of it.” You sit down on him slowly, hands landing over his chest, and he brushes his hands up and down your arms. “Thas’ righ’ baby. So good for me.” Joel moves to your hips, pulling them down and in to start to move inside you, forcing himself to be gentle. Your head flips back as you let out a loud, pornographic moan, and Joel can no longer keep himself reigned in. Gripping your hips, he’s now moving them more than you are, one hand gripping your ass, guiding you to angle down, taking more of him. 
Riding him like a mustang, your fingers skim over his wrists, unable to grasp them. “Fuck,” You whimper, brow twisted up, eyes closed. 
Joel takes his hand off of your ass to grab your face, squishing your cheeks, “Eyes on me, sweetheart.” You moan and obey, he keeps your face in his hand to make sure you stay. “Good girl. Stay with me baby.” He grunts and briefly bits his lips as he begins moving his hips up into you, thrusting his cock even deeper inside of you until he’s bumping your cervix again. You squeak and close your eyes, leaning your head back until he jerks your face, reminding you softly, “Eyes on me.” Your hand slaps on his chest as you adjust your posture, though Joel’s grip stabilizes you enough, holding you in place. He releases your cheeks but keeps his hand on your face, letting his palm and fingers brush over the side of your head as you bounce, his thumb on the back of your neck, supporting your head up when you try to let it fall back. “You’re so beautiful. Bet you look so pretty when you cum.”
“My god, Joel,” you pant, “I knew you would fuck me so good, you’re gonna make me cum,”
Joel’s eyes light up and he inadvertently smirks, “Yeah?” Eagerly, he tells you, “I wanna make you cum, baby, I wanna feel you fuckin’ cum. You’re bein’ such a good girl lettin’ me fuck you so hard like this. God, I wanna make you cum,” His hips bump up into you and he tugs on yours in a tempo that buries him as far as he’ll go inside of you. Prizing his view, Joel notices a bulge, coming and going at a suspiciously similar rhythm as how he’s fucking you, and when he realizes that it’s him, heat spreads through his chest and he only fucks you harder. “Oooooh, baby,” he looks back up at you and your chest and face are flushed. “My angel, look at you. Go ahead and cum on my cock, babygirl, I know you’re ready to.”
Your pipe out desperate moans as you bounce on his cock and your hands shoot up, one twisting your hair behind your head the other on your face, smoothing down over your face and mouth down to massage your breast.
“Does that feel good baby?” He almost whines out the question, desperate for praise, for affirmation that he’s being good for you. 
“Yes, god, fuck me Joel, I need you, oh my god please,” you cry out.
“You gonna cum for me? Cum on my cock like a good girl?”
You close your mouth, whining through sealed lips, then pop them back open to moan almost unrealistically pornographically, but the way your pussy squeezes him proves it unmistakably genuine.  
“Ah, fuck,” Joel lets out loudly as your legs shake and tighten around him, just like your cunt does, and his thrusts are basically out of his control. His mouth falls open and his eyes squeeze shut, almost seeing white, a sweet taste filling his mouth as the euphoric pleasure you provide him trembles to a peak and he groans as he cums in a pussy–drunk frenzy. 
As he comes out of it embarrassment starts to run over him at his gusto, but the look on your face calms it—your brow is furrowed up, eyes closed with your mouth slack like his. Your back is arched with your hands resting on his thighs, panting. 
You let out a loud breath and flip your body back to look at him, smiling, “Shit.” A breathy laugh shakes out of him and you sit back, still with him inside of you. Then you rise up off of him, “Oh, fuck,” you stand, almost tripping, “I gotta go clean myself up. I’ll be right back.” 
Joel basks in the glory of your figure walking away, still fully nude, pattering through your apartment, then disappearing around the corner. He leans back, turning his head to view the sky from the dirty glass door. It’s a picturesque baby blue, dotted with a few puffy white clouds. Fuck the other shoe, if it drops it drops, he just wants to be here right now, with the sun warming his bare chest, nose full of your scent, his lips swollen and dick still wet with your cum. Joel takes a deep breath. Maybe it’s dramatic to say he’d be happy to die here, and it’s not entirely true, but it’s just that he feels content for the first time in fucking years. 
When your padding steps sound again, Joel shifts his upper body up, watching you approach, and then you slip into bed, nudging him so that you can lay side by side facing each other. The top sheet is cast lazily over your bodies and a comfortable silence falls over it. Joel tries to memorize the details of your eyes and admires the way his mouth has plumped your lips. 
Lying in bed with you here in this cramped apartment feels like a dugout, and he wants to go back in time, to any point over the last ten or so years, to tell himself that this is waiting there for him, just to let himself know that it’s gonna be ok. He can’t believe he’s still in Boston.
“Can we stay here for a while?” He asks you. 
You nod, “We still have all day, pretty boy.” Joel smiles and you move to kiss him, long and light. He hooks your lip in his mouth, asking you nearer, and, without breaking the kiss, you lift yourself up, only your chest off of the bed, supporting your body up with your elbow. To hover over him, you reach your hand over to plant next to his head. Joel’s hands slither up your face to the back of your head, assuring your connection. All he wants is your lips.  
“Baby,” He whispers, his voice high. 
“Hm?”
“Nothin’. I dunno.”
You smile, peck another gentle kiss, and then lay back beside him. You shift closer to each other and your legs tangle.
After a couple of still moments, you take a deep breath and address him, worry in your voice, “Joel
”
“What is it?” His brow pinches in concern.
“I’m just worried
 maybe I should have waited.” You say quietly, brow slightly furrowed as you gaze into his eyes, raising a loose fist to your lips. 
He pushes his hand out to brush the back of his finger over your wrist, “Why’s that?”
You pause. “Cause
 I don’t want
 I wasn’t
 I wasn’t trying to have
 you know, a one night stand. I mean, for this to be a one time thing and then I never see you again.”
Joel’s brow furrows as he assures you, “Me neither, no, no baby, I wanna see you again. I want you to stay. I wanna stay. I wanna know you.”
You uncover your mouth to smile and your eyes twinkle, “You want to know me?”
“Wull
 yeah.”
“That’s such a nice thing to say.”
“I mean it.”
“Well, I wanna know you, too.”
Joel’s contentedness pauses. He didn’t think about that part and he’s not sure if he wants you to know him. Yes, desperately, god yes he does, but, no, his soul is covered in soot. You shouldn't, he doesn’t want you to see him, know him, because he’s bad. 
“What’s that face?” You ask.
“What face?” 
“That face you just made. You don’t want me to know you?”
How did you read him like that? He’s not sure which side he should take with this so he says nothing. 
You sigh and blink, then place your hand on his cheek, stroking it with your thumb once. It’s warm and solid against his skin and flowers bloom in his chest. 
“If I’m gonna let you know me, you gotta let me know you. That’s the deal. I think we’re pretty similar, Joel.” You take another deep breath, “I haven’t had someone in this bed with me in a long time. I haven’t touched someone like this in
 forever. I don’t like to let people get this close. I’m letting you get close, though. Because I really, really want to. But part of me really, really, doesn’t. For some reason, I trust you. I hate saying that. But I just do. I really like you, Joel. Maybe you’re gonna break my heart. I decided that that’s ok. I just really want to know you.” Your hand slides down to his neck, over his shoulder, then down to the middle of his sternum. “So, that’s the deal. If I’m gonna let you in, you gotta let me in.”
Joel isn’t sure why there are tears wetting his eyes. He wasn’t ready to be spoken to like this, to be cared about. The longing to hear words like these has long been buried and he never expected any of that to be fulfilled. He blinks the tears back, swallows hard, and murmurs a tender “Ok.” 
Your hand slides back up to caress his cheek. The affection in it floods him and he melts into the bed, eyes falling closed. When he opens them again, it’s like this is all there is; he can’t see anything else except for you, and those pink sheets, and the light behind you coming through the window. 
He can’t help this feeling of safety with you. He smiles. You smile back. 
You can’t make Boston any better, but now, Joel is taking his first clean breath of air, and it smells like you. The world is ugly, but love makes it bearable. And now you’re here, and he’ll wait to tell you, but he figured it out, he’s sure he loves you. 

Metaphors and sex, sex and metaphors. 
303 notes · View notes
enhais · 2 years
Note
Yandere mafia Wonki
They're rivals and both of them like you
You're a normal person and student
So can you make a fic about them fighting over you for a long time but after many discussions they decide to share you? Or one of them gets you — your choice 😁
mafia, yandere!wonki - shared
content: yandere mafia members jungwoo and niki x normal student fem!reader
word count: 892
a/n: this is definitely not my best work, but it is something. as usual, this is only my opinion/vision of them as yanderes, nothing else!
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you had no idea your father was caught up in the mafia world until two hefty men stormed into the library and grabbed your arms. “what are you doing?! let me go!” you fought and kicked your feet, but to no avail — they were much bigger and stronger than you. the two men got you out of the building, leaving your books and notes behind, and sat you down in a dark vehicle.
after what seemed like an hour of quiet and bumpy roads, and you yelling and thrashing in the back, the car stopped. “hello?? could you please tell me where i am or who’s behind this?” you were frustrated, to say the least, as they completely ignored you. the men got out and put a blindfold over your eyes before you could see anything, as well as tying your wrists together, and as a survival technique, you began to scream your lungs out in hopes they would find you annoying. you acted like a total child; screaming, stomping your feet against what you could identify as gravel, refusing to follow them willingly
 the men didn’t care, anyway, and threw you over one of their shoulders.
you entered some sort of house and everything became quiet. well, quieter than it already was, isolating you from the outside world. it felt like a bigger house because you could hear steps echoing from afar. you were then placed on a cushion, a couch, maybe? and you could feel another presence entering. they were close to your face as you could feel a slight breath on your skin, and before you knew it, the blindfold was off. it took a few seconds to get used to the light, but when you did, you were met with an admiring expression. “she’s beautiful, thank you.” the man in front of you caressed your cheek for a moment before crouching down and resting his hands on the couch beside your legs. what the hell was happening. “now, i know you’re wondering what you’re doing here, and it’s quite simple, really.” he began, “my name is yang jungwon, my father is the leader of a highly respected group and has given me some instructions as your father didn’t do what he was told.” you furrowed your brows, my dad?? jungwon continued, “not only that, but i’ve been watching you for some time. i had to do the background research of your father a couple of years ago, when he first came to us, and i just-“ he paused and took a breath, “i fell in love. with you.” you could swear that you felt your heart stop beating for a split second. he untied your wrists and took your hand in his, “but i’m not the only one who finds you irresistible
”
he explained about another man named niki and that, even though he would much rather keep you to himself, he had to share you with him. niki and jungwon were in the same group a few years back, their fathers were very close, but something happened and niki had to take a bullet for jungwon, so now jungwon has to pay him back. by sharing you. he kept explaining that “niki will come by later, he’s a bit
 busy, these days.”
and his words were true. when darkness entered the skies, the gates opened, and a man dressed in a black suit stormed in. “where is she?” his voice echoed through the house. you had been given a room by jungwon for privacy, which you were very grateful for, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around the situation. niki’s steps were heavy and became louder and louder the closer he got. he didn’t bother to knock, and walked straight in, “y/n
” your name left his lips and he looked at you like a child looked at their dream toy, “niki?” the man smiled brightly upon hearing his name, “i’m happy to see you.” he took a seat beside you on the bed and, out of instinct, you moved away, “you don’t have to be scared, i- we care deeply about you. and this isn’t your fault, no, we’ve planned this for some time now
” he reached out to touch your arm only for you to draw back. niki sighed and continued, “it just so happens that your father disobeyed mr. yang at the right time.” your chin began to wobble. you wanted to go home. “oh, baby, don’t cry. you’ll be fine. and if you’re worried about the rest of your family, i promise you we haven’t touched them.” tears filled your eyes, blurring your sight, “so, i’m not- i’m not allowed to leave, or what’s going on? i- i don’t understand.” niki cooed at your weak form, “no, baby, you’ll stay here for the time being. we haven’t really talked about it, me and jungwon, but i think if you’re good, you can still go to school, hm?” his hand went up to caress your head, his thumb moving up and down, trying to calm you down, and this time you let him.
jungwon entered not long after your little talk, “everything alright?” you looked up at him with wet eyes and sniffled, “i want to go home
 please.” he immediately crouched down and grabbed your hand, “angel, this is your home now.”
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naavispider · 1 month
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Hi, I love all your Avatar Fics. Can we get a snippet of the next Chapter of Oh No?
Aw thank you! đŸ„° It sucks so bad that I don't have as much time to write these days, but I'm still chipping away! I'm focusing mainly on Merciless, of which the next chapter should probably post tomorrow 😁 I haven't written for Oh No in a while but I do have ideas laid out for the next part... Here is the beginning of the next chapter 💞
“You’re not stupid. You’ve seen how remote this place is. You’re not getting anywhere by trying to escape again. It’s an hour’s drive to the nearest town. No one lives within a twenty mile radius. So if you do decide to act out again, know that it will only end one of two ways. If you’re lucky, we’ll find you and rescue you before you die of exposure. If not
” Quaritch’s voice trailed off and Spider heard the unspoken message as loudly as if he’d shouted it. 
“So what?” he asked in what he hoped was a level voice. “You’re just gonna keep me here forever? Why? What's the point?”
Quaritch’s eyes roved over Spider’s face. It could have been the lighting, but Spider was sure something changed behind the man’s eyes. Quaritch considered himself before taking a deep breath. 
“We’re family,” he said. 
The words took him aback.
Spider never had a family. Not until the Sullys. And this monster had come and ripped it all away. He shook his head disbelievingly. The man was insane. How could he communicate with a madman? 
He spoke slowly, considering every word in case it earned him a beating. “I can accept that you contributed genes to my existence. I know that. Maybe you even loved my mom. But you are not a father.”
He was scared to watch Quaritch’s reaction. The man was so volatile he had no idea what was going to happen. What he didn’t expect however, was for his kidnapper to stand and clear Spider's plate for him without a hint of anger. There was a mixture of regret and maybe frustration behind Quaritch’s softened eyes, but nothing that signalled an imminent outburst. 
“Of course you feel that way now.” He spoke without looking at him, passing the dirty dishes to Mansk for washing up. Then he busied himself making coffee. “I’ve never had a chance to show you. But that’s all changing. You’re with me now. And you’ll soon start to understand. I can’t blame you for this reaction.”
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Your post about enemies to lovers just gave me an idea!
Okay, we all know Ghost helps with training recruits so reader joins the military or whatever and Ghost isn’t the one training her at first but he sees something in her that maybe reminds him of himself (maybe it’s her proficiency at certain things or the way it’s like a flip switches when it’s actually time for her to spar and she’s goes from really sweet and nice to kicking the ass of a dude twice her size idk anyways) so he switches some things around so that he is the one training her.
Things go really good and reader feels like they’re getting to reach their full potential with the help of Ghost and maybe a month or two passes then Ghost flips his script (he realizes he has feeling and Ghost doesn’t do feelings). He’s not being talking to reader at all, switches her back to training with someone else, acting like he doesn’t know her practically and this sets reader off so she confronts Ghost.
Ghost just blows her off, telling her she’s acting like a child, that he needed someone with higher skill if he was going to keep training someone (she was literally one of the best trainees he’s aver had đŸ€ŠđŸ»â€â™€ïž) or whatever you think he would say and this is where the “hatred” set in for reader. She tells her self she doesn’t care that he could die in a hole for all she cares.
Anyways I would do a time skip or maybe all the stuff above this is all flashbacks.
But reader stays on that base for maybe another year (the whole time is spent ignoring Ghost, only speaking to him when required, and doing everything in her power to prove Ghost wrong) before she ships out and joins a task force (time skip here) a few years later John is sitting with Laswell deciding who’s going to join his task force.
He chooses Soap, gaz, and Ghost. He looks through the files one more time before pulling out readers file. Says something about reader being able to be compared to Ghost when it comes to being on the field.
When Ghost sees reader with the first time she’s laughing with Johnny. He knows it’s you, he spent enough time around you to recognize your laugh, your body language, the color of your eyes. The moment he ever tries to talk to you all the happiness is gone, covered with a calm and collected front.
(Mini Time skip if you will) Ghost and reader work best on missions together and Price uses this to his advantage. It’s common for the two to be sent on mission sometimes alone and other times with others. But this time it’s just Ghost and reader one of them gets hurt (I would say reader because the way Ghost would torture himself over it would be hell) if you choose reader, she makes a joke about him not caring if she dies then cue the conversation about what happened all that time ago. When they get to the part of Ghost being frustrated and tell reader how he felt then and how he feels now, reader passes out (and maybe as a cherry on top maybe even stops breathing and this is when evac shows up, taking reader away.
Skip a little more Ghost is super worried but reader lives and when she wakes up maybe Gaz is sitting there and tells her about Ghost almost spending all his time in the room other than when he’s on mission (current reason he’s not in the room) and when he gets back reader is doing really good.
Some way somehow we get to them having a conversation and reader asks about what he was going to tell her that night and Ghost confesses(maybe even shows her his face in this moment). But here’s the catch, reader doesn’t confess back, nope. Instead she’s angry with Simon (yep she uses his real name), asking him how he could treat her like that over some feelings, yelling at him about how she was insanely hard on herself all this time because she looked up to Simon then.
Some time later they’re on a mission together again and this time Simon gets hurt (yes hate me idc 😁) and reader is so upset that when Ghost passed out she’s pacing around the room mumbling to herself (maybe even crying) and she says something like “god, you better fucking wake up. (Mumbling to herself) Fucking idiot couldn’t not get hurt.”
Walks over to ghost and lays her head on his chest, “you need to wake up Simon
 I need to tell you I love you back.” And maybe he’s awake at this point long enough to say something back to her (or he could just hear her 👀 and not say anything) orrrr if you want it to be more angsty maybe he ends up on base and it’s the same situation where reader is constantly in his room while he’s recovering and maybe price or soap comes in to talk to her about her needing rest and she’s like nope not happening.
This is where the conversation ensues about Price or soap talking to reader about how they know she loves him (super wide eyed reader over here lol) and they just chuckle telling her it’s alright but she needs to take care of herself. So she leaves.
Simon wakes up and talks to one of the John’s (the John thing is funny to me okay) and they tell him about reader staying around. Reader comes back but ghost is asleep again. Maybe reader falls asleep holding ghosts hand *this would be such a cute moment for soap to come in and take a picture and leave đŸ„č*
Anyways reader might be talking to herself thinking Simon is asleep and she says something about loving him when she turns to find him awake. Somehow they end up talking about heir feelings and maybe this is when they have their first kiss idk
(That’s honestly where I would end it and then make an epilogue)
Maybe they have some kids maybe they don’t but in the end they’re happy with each other and maybe we get to see how the rest of the task force is doing
This was long as hell I’m sorry 😭 didn’t mean for it to turn into this whole thing (there is a lot of plot holes in this 😳)
Whoa honestly you just made an entire series of that lmao I love it it’s great!!! I could definitely try something like this but absolutely love the amount of detail you put in this ask. It’s great!! @random0lover
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jedimasterbailey · 8 months
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Hello there, Bailey! How we feeling about Ahsoka Part Five?????? I am so unwell, I loved every bit of it and I was wrecked emotionally 😭😭😭 💜
ALEXEI!!!!! Oh my god you have no idea how big of a smile I get on my face whenever you inbox me, I love it đŸ„° And I’m with you, I’m still recovering emotionally from it 😭
Anyhow, I will admit that Ahsoka part 5 is the best episode of the series so far. For once I wasn’t angry or disappointed (I must admit I’m not a hard core Rebels fan so everything up to this point has been frustrating for me) because I was finally seeing the one thing that I think many of us have been dying to see which is Ahsoka reconnecting with Anakin post ROTJ. I absolutely loved the flashbacks and I loved every moment of Ahsoka and Anakin together, I only wished we had more! I love that we got to see teenage Ahsoka with the mind of a much older Ahsoka realizing how distressing her past really was, etc and finally making peace with it. Absolutely beautiful and I was smiling from ear to ear just seeing all the Clone Wars characters again from Rex, to Ahsoka in her Padawan outfit and green lightsaber, to Anakin in his Clone Wars armor. Just amazing and it hits so good when you’ve been watching the Clone Wars since you’ve been a kid! Seeing animated stuff come to live action is truly something.
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With that being said, there are a few things I wish we could see (that I doubt we’ll see in this show and that’s fine but I’d love to see it nonetheless). One, I wish Anakin would apologize to Ahsoka for all the trauma he’s inflicted on her as Vader and for all that the Clone Wars have put her through. We saw Obi-Wan apologize to Anakin in the Kenobi show (and let’s be honest here, the only one responsible for Anakin’s fall is well ultimately Anakin), so I’m not sure why that has yet to happen with Ahsoka. She deserves all the apologies but I digress maybe we’ll see it elsewhere because I do believe Anakin and Ahsoka have much to talk about still. Two, I wanna see Barriss! Barriss is such a HUGE part of her past and literally changed the trajectory of her life so why it’s still never discussed is a mystery to me. However again, I think that’s not relevant to this show but when it comes to the story of Ahsoka as a whole, I do believe Barriss needs to return. Like you can’t have a Obi-Wan show without Darth Vader, so why not have Ahsoka make peace/amends with Barriss? Omg can you imagine a live action Clone Wars flashback with Ahsoka AND Barriss?! 😍 Oh I would be in happy tears! â˜ș
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What did you think my friend? And to everyone else out there, I’d love to hear your thoughts! 😁
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danses-with-dogmeat · 1 year
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Hey, I just saw you had an event going on and wanted to request 💀🩖 with Deacon and ‘Move out of my way, or I’ll make you.’
I can’t deny it, I love the angst
Yay! The first actual angst prompt! Ooh, and it's a good one.
I feel strongly about the piece I wrote here... As it's pretty much just the way I yelled at the t.v. when this happened in-game.
But anyway, I hope you like it! 😁
"You lied?"
"Well, that was the lesson here, Sole, that's why the paper says--"
A frustrated groan interrupted him, and when your head lashed his way, there was fire in your eyes.
"'You can't trust everyone,' okay, yeah, I get it, you asshole. But you couldn't have told me earlier? Deacon, it's been months. It's been months, and I thought-- All this time..." You dragged your fingers over your scalp, feeling heat wash over you at the thought of it.
"The only reason I even read the damn thing is because of how out of control you've been lately! The way you've been endangering yourself... I couldn't bare to see you get hurt, I thought, if I used the code, if I thought you put yourself in a situation you couldn't miraculously get out of... Fuck, I trusted you, I cared about you and I believed you and-- and now you're saying that was wrong?"
"Hey, I'm sorry you're upset, okay?" Deacon's voice was calm. It only made you angrier. "But this was all a part of what you need to know. If you're in the Railroad--"
"What other choice did I have, Deacon?" You shouted at him, "How could I not trust you? I woke up in this world with no one, and you're the first person to give me a chance, to think I can make it out here, the first one to support me, and now you're saying I can't trust you? No, you're showing me that I can't? By lying to me?"
His mouth was hanging open, on the brink of saying what, you didn't know, but you weren't about to let him get on with it. You weren't finished.
"This shit doesn't teach me not to trust other people, it teaches me not to trust you. I believed you... I thought you were my friend, and yet all this time... What else have you lied about? Has anything you've told me been true?"
Deacon's silence was deafening.
It wasn't shock at your tone anymore, it was sheer loss of words. Because you were right.
You shook your head as Deacon looked away from you, his shades barely managing to mask the way his mind reeled and turned within itself to think of something he told you about himself that was utterly true.
"I don't even know you. Do I?"
You moved to brush past him, to leave this part of the ruins and find another place to sleep.
In the morning, you'd head back to HQ alone. That much, you'd decided.
"Sole, wait." Deacon made a move to step in front of you, one hand landing dangerously on your shoulder to hold you in place. "You did it. You passed, okay? You read the note, you got the message, and now... Now we can build on that. The first real lesson is checked off. This is a good thing."
You pulled your shoulder away from his grip, ignoring his poor attempt at justification as you went to move past him again.
He side-stepped into your path.
"Deacon--"
"Just let me tell you a few more things, okay? Let me--"
"Why? So you can lie? So you can build up my trust again before tearing it down? So you can start trying to unravel all the bullshit you already had me believing? No thanks."
You waited for him to move, to give in. But Deacon stood firm.
You groaned as you stepped around him deliberately.
He raised a hand to you, venturing to stop you again.
"Deacon. Move out of my way. Let me go, or I'll make you."
Finally, his head hung, and he stepped aside.
Maybe one day you'd be able to forgive him, you two could travel together again, even. But you knew one thing for certain. You'd never make the mistake of trusting him again.
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procrastinatorproject · 18 days
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For the WIP Folder Game. First of all, how do you expect me to choose one? After much deliberation, I narrowed it down to "Calluses" and "Dino Hunt" 😁
It is wild to me with what kind of precision all of you are picking these stories :D @jazzfic managed to zero in on the one Agnebal snippet, you picked the two fics that aren't even in the same list but are actually closely connected... I love it so much!
So, those two stories were originally inspired by @regionalpancake. I think I was feeling very bad at the time (a couple years back) and asked for prompts for holo-stories I could write. Pancakes came in with "Calluses", "no you stop it!" and "DINOSAURS!". And because the brain was in a bad place, I never ended up really doing much with it, but I do still have two bits of fic in my wip folder based on those prompts.
For the dino story, I only have one paragraph.
The insect looked similar to the stickflies that bred in the southern swamps on Vashti during the harvest months. They swarmed the fields once the drones and workers left, and feasted on the husks and straw left in the sandy earth. As a child, Elnor would sometimes ask Zani to let him walk down to the hill overlooking the monastery’s grain fields after dinner, so he could listen to their songs. Stickflies made the most tantilizing music by rubbing their five pairs of iridescent wings together. This specimen did not make music with its wings, maybe because it only had four, but it hummed a gently oscillating tone as it approached.
Well, one paragraph and one sentence. I think the idea was that there has been some holodeck malfunction and a bunch of terrifying prehistoric creatures have broken free and taken over La Sirena (given that she has holo-emitters throughout). And Elnor and the others are trying to round them up and herd them back into the holodeck before someone gets hurt. But alas, I don't have any additional notes here.
As for calluses, I have a few hundred words of dialogue between Ian and Soji. But I actually really like the notes I wrote underneath, so I'm gonna share those! (The square brackets are how I mark notes where a story isn't written out but I only have bits of summary)
[The holos, as many computers are want to do, build heuristics to do certain tasks more quickly. These connections get strengthened and over time, they form a map of sorts, that will show you what they do often, the same way calluses might for humans. Emmet likes to externalize many of his internal structures, similar to the way the captain likes to keep his scars. For the captain, it’s partially self-neglect, but it’s also a way to know where he’s been and keep a record of things that have happened and that were real. For Emmet, it’s absolutely the latter. [Soji has been thinking about externalizing some of her memories. Memories of Dahj, of childhood adventures. Dahj had a scar on her ankle that Soji remembers being from a kayaking trip they went on in the Pudget Sound. They rescued some wild animal — Dahj always loved animals! Soji knows the story is fake and the scar was fake and it’s all very frustrating, but she would like some kind of permanent reminder of the things she has accomplished and the past she has lived] [Ian suggests that Emil would probably be very pissed if Soji hurt herself to get some kind of cosmetic scar. But maybe she can talk to Emmet about getting a tattoo. As for calluses to show what she has accomplished: her brain is a map of all the things that have defined her. Dahj has left a mark there, and she can choose to express this in a myriad of small ways. And whichever one she chooses, Ian will help her get there.]
I feel like this is extremely on brand for me: thinking A Lot about how the holos function on a technological level and what that means for them as people. And also thinking and writing about Soji's relationship with Dahj and her manufactured past and memories. There's so much there there, and I really want to explore that more in the future!
(I cannot get over how you managed to pick these two, out of the dozen wip titles in that list đŸ€Ł Absolutely brilliant! And thank you so much for the opportunity to dig through some old stories and reread my own writing. It's a real joy to do this kind of personal archaeology!)
Also: I had completely forgotten that there was a third prompt, too! I might have to create another WIP jut to make a note of that. Maybe it'll give me some inspiration đŸ€”
---
I'm still very happy to answer questions or post snippets of the many things in my WIP folder :D Here's the original list of titles if you want to see what's available!
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specialagentlokitty · 1 year
Text
Saul Silva x Teen!reader - fight the world
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Hey, I really love your Saul Silva xTeen Reader - fight the World fic. Thank you for writing it! 💙 Maybe you can write a Part Two, where Saul and Reader train together? Saul is giving Reader some tips but is also learning from his kid? Or whatever you think would be great for a part two 😁 - Anon💜
Part two:
It took a few weeks for you to get fully better, the travelling and the fighting had left you exhausted and you spent a lot of time in bed sleeping.
Saul took care of you when he could, bringing you food, giving you your medicine and changing your bandages when they needed changed.
He also used this time to talk to you more, and you spoke back, and he was overwhelmed with a sense of joy.
You two hadn’t been close, you barely said a few words to him over previous years, but here you were, sitting on the grass as you spoke with him.
“How did you know the burned one was behind you? How did you stay so calm?” Saul asked you.
You sighed a little, resting your head on your dads legs as you looked up at you.
“Do you remember when you and sky were going to a hike when we were little and I told you it was a bad idea? Like I told you something bad was going to happen?”
“Yes. Sky nearly broke his leg, but I didn’t believe it had anything to do with that you said. Even after you kept warning me about different things.”
You nodded a little.
“Well.. it’s that. I just know when there’s danger nearby to me. And I just can sense when someone’s getting into a dangerous situation, it’s like there’s something out there telling my mind and it tells me.”
Saul nodded his head as you explained.
Of course he knew, because that’s why you both fell out years ago.
Because he told you none of it was real, and you were just imaging it all, because he refused to listen to you when you tried to tell him about it.
“It’s like how I knew when you were in the house and knew what room you were in. I can just.. sense it.”
“That’s why you always knew what room to avoid.” He said softly.
You sat up, spinning yourself around so you were looking at him again.
“I am so sorry for everything I said that day dad. I.. I didn’t mean it.. I was angry and frustrated.. and I let it out on you and I shouldn’t have..”
“No. No you had every right to (Y/N). I know I wasn’t the best of fathers, I spent more time with sky because he showed more interest in what I did then you. But that’s no excuse for how I always kept you on the sidelines.”
You pulled your knees up to your chest, looking at him.
“I loved watching you train when I was little. I’d sneak into the specialists training grounds to watch, or I’d hide around the corner of the house and watch. I found it really cool.”
“If I’d known you were watching I would’ve asked you to join.” He said softly.
“I didn’t want you to know I was watching, I guess.. I guess I was scared, you know? I was always so different from you, I was scared if you saw me watching you’d tell me to stop..”
“(Y/N) I’ve wanted nothing more than to spend time with you, talk to you, train with you.” He sighed.
You smiled a little bit and stood up, holding your hand to him.
“Can we train?” You asked.
“I’d love to.”
Saul placed his hand in yours and let you pull him up and you both drew your swords.
“Will you show me what you can do?” He asked.
“Yeah.”
You put your sword on the ground and took your armour off.
It hindered your movements and you knew you dad wouldn’t do anything that could possibly hurt you.
“How about we start with hand to hand.” He smiled.
He did the same as you and you both stood ready, circling one another and he threw the first punch.
You ducked under it, and jumped over his leg as he tired to knock you over.
You didn’t try hit him back, you were just dodging his attacks, eyes focused on him as you moved from side to side, jumping or rolling on the ground away from him.
Saul was amazed.
It’s like you knew what he was going to do before he did it, like you were playing a one sided game of chess and knew exactly how it was going to end.
Finally he stopped to catch his breath and looked at you with a smile.
“That’s amazing, does it have anything to do with watching me train?” He asked.
“You do have a slightly predictable pattern yes, but everyone does, including the burned ones, it’s not all random. But no, it’s got nothing to do with that, it’s like my brain knows what you’ll do, and it’s telling me what I need to do.”
“So you could do it with your eyes closed?” He asked.
“I’ve never tried it that way before but.. maybe?”
You walked to your stuff, grabbing some bandages you knew in there you walked over and handed them to him.
“I want to try it.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Saul said.
You smiled.
“I know you won’t hurt me dad, it’s alright.”
Saul looked at your smile and he nodded, carefully bandaging your eyes so you can’t see and you stood a few steps away from him, taking a deep breath.
“I’m ready.”
Saul said nothing and you stood there.
Turning around, you grabbed your dads leg, throwing him to the ground and you looked to where he was.
He carefully walked around you and swung for you.
You turned a little, his fist going just past the back of your hand and you ducked under his arm, grabbing it as you swept his feet from under him.
You didn’t slam him into the ground, you gently dropped him and took a few steps back.
“You’re too heavy with your movements dad, I can hear you moving around.” You said.
“I’m not making a sound.” He replied.
You sidestepped, stepping around him as you pushed the back of his head.
“Before you attack you plant your feet into the ground a little, for stability. It’s a good idea, but it’s giving you a way.”
You jumped, and took a few steps away.
This time you didn’t bother trying to dodge around his attacks, you just kept moving backwards.
“And you’re too scared to actually attack me.” He said.
“Maybe I am, but I know that if it came down to it I could defend someone.”
You ducked, dropping yourself to the ground and pushing yourself away.
“You’re hesitating with your attacks (Y/N), don’t hesitate, give me your best shot.”
You sighed but nodded your head, and you put all you had into your attacks, landing hits with all your strength.
“Don’t think dad, I can hear you thinking from here.”
You stood still, holding his fist as he went to hit you, and you raised your hand, placing a finger on his forehead.
“You need to trust your head. Don’t think about how to fight, you already know how to fight dad. Trust that your brain will lead you, it’ll tell your body what to do.”
You moved your hand and placed it over his heart.
“Let your heart make the right choice, let it be your guide into when you should evade an attack or not. Your brain will fight for you, your heart will protect you.”
Saul looked at you, a gentle smile on his face as you leant forward, placing a tender kiss to the top of your head and backed away.
You stood there, with your hands behind your back.
“You need to trust your body, your instinct, that’s why it’s there right? To protect you? So let it in, let it lead you and tell you what to do, when you give up thinning and rely on instinct you’re movement will be faster, your attacks smoother.”
You reached up and started to unwrap the bandages around your eyes and you let them drop to the floor as you looked over at you dad.
“How did you learn it?” He asked.
You picked up the bandages and walked over, holding them out.
“By removing my sense of sight, I would run through the forest next to the house. I spent a lot of time falling over and getting hurt, I’d do it while you were teaching. Eventually I learned to trust my instincts and that they’ll lead me the right away. I knew I could move without sight, but I didn’t know if I could fight without it, but it’s the same concept.”
You smiled up at your dad.
“Trust me.”
He leant down, letting you cover his eyes and he stood back up.
“Everyone has this sense inside of them, you just need to force it out. Focus on everything and nothing all at the same time, use your surroundings to your advantage dad. You’re used to fighting your enemies when you can see them, when you know they’re coming.”
You walked away, and walked around his back.
“But if you can’t see them, how do you know which way they’re coming from?”
You ran, jumping on his back and he stumbled a few steps.
“Your back is the most vulnerable part of yourself, it’s never defended if you’re alone, and you need to trust that those fighting with you will watch it, and you watch theirs.”
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, clinging to him as he brought his hands up to hold your arms.
“I trust you’ll watch my back (Y/N).”
You smiled a little.
“Of course I will dad, I’ll always watch your back.”
Saul smiled, and he just stood there with you on his back.
He was amazed, utterly amazed with you, because you didn’t seem like some teenager who wasn’t interested in anything, some teenager who was learning.
You weren’t a student.
No.
You were beyond that, you were a master at your art, you had been honing your skills, practicing. Training.
You were a teacher, a mentor.
You had the ability to lead the specialists in a direction they had never been in before, give them an advantage they had never had before.
Saul didn’t want to enrol you in the school as a student, you were far beyond that. Sure, you would still need to battle training, but he would do that with you.
He wanted you to teach him, help him teach, because you were already far more prepared for everything than he thought you were.
He spent his whole life worrying over you, and now he realised he didn’t need to, you were a soldier at heart and a leader in spirit.
You would fight the whole world if you had to, and he had every confidence that if you did, you would come out on top, you would win every fight you went into
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ladylooch · 5 months
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I am the anon with a question â˜ș
I feel like such a normalized part of hockey culture (unfortunately) is the violence and the unhealthy coping mechanisms that come along with losing seasons.
I know you write most of your AU men as mostly perfect hubbies (as we’d like all men to be. I mean that’s the point of fiction, right?) but are there ever times when the teams are having a rough time during the season and the boys aren’t handling it well. Maybe taking their anger out at home (not physically). Do the girls ever get scared?
The way this is SUCH a thoughtful and eloquent question! I love it Nonnie! I did LOL @ all my men being perfect. I’m a comfort writer 😁 But they all have their moments. I think a huge chunk of being a professional athlete now is the mental gymnastics they need to work through, especially in these moments of frustration. 
In the AUs specifically:
Nico & Lexi: We see that Nico gets sad and spins his wheels overanalyzing everything. But his focus is always on “I need to be better” and “I’m not good enough.” So, taking it out at home on his girls would not be his style. Not to say this version of him is fun to be around though. It is a chore to get Nico to participate in anything other than hockey. He spends most of the time on the couch snuggling with their babies, watching movies. Lexi allows it, but eventually confronts Nico about finding healthier ways to cope, so they can mirror for their daughters how to navigate challenges in a healthy way.
Timo & Emma: Emma Meier would never allow that behavior in their household. First, she grew up in a strong, calm and resilient household. Second, she would mama bear maul Timo if he thought about expressing his anger by throwing things or yelling angrily at her or their children. Now, Timo has gotten heated and yelled about the overall situation in the car ride home when it is just him and Emma. He feels safe expressing himself to her completely. But as with Nico, his competitiveness focuses that energy internally on himself. It takes a lot for Timo to be in a rage over his play, but when it happens, Emma is there holding his hand, assuring him he isn’t a giant pile of stinky garbage.  
Miles & Kailey: As wild as Miles Wood is on the ice, off of it he is very soft spoken and shy. He uses hockey to channel all that internal chaotic energy into a focus. Now, when he is being scratched playoff game after playoff game in New Jersey? That is a level of frustration Kailey has never seen from him. But as always with Miles, Kailey is more worried about what is under the surface that he isn’t saying out loud. What is he tunneling down deep into his chest that is leaving marks on his beautiful soul? Miles kicks off his shoes and throws his bag and plops his big heavy body down on the couch net to Kailey. “Scratched again?” She murmurs, carding her fingers through the side of his hair. “I think I’m done here, babe.” Miles whispers from where his head is leaned back against the couch, eyes closed. Kailey doesn’t respond, but she agrees. Life in Jersey is coming to a close.
Kevin & Sam: Kevin Fiala wears his heart on his sleeve. Sam knew that before they were married. But what she is witnessing right now is unacceptable behavior. Kevin is screaming, carrying on, chucking things in and around the main area of their house. Thankfully, Luca and Lacey are out of the house with Kevin’s parents. “You are so unsupportive!” Kevin howls. Sam rolls her eyes. “You wanna be a teenager, Kevin? I’ll treat you like one.” She hisses back. This enrages him further. He begins to speak rapidly at her in Swiss German, using her lack of understanding as a weapon against her. Dick. He comes closer to Sam. Her shoulders tighten and she stands to her full height, speaking loudly over him. “I am not going to be treated like this in my own home. If you can’t get it together, then you need to leave.” Kevin squints. “This is my house.” “Not when you behave this way.” 
Connor & Lucie: Connor learned his lesson when he lost Lucie. After his hit on Lio during a game, his hot temper followed him out of the locker room, in the car, and back to their apartment where she packed a suitcase and walked out saying she wouldn’t be raising a baby with someone who could say the things he was sating to her tonight. He never, EVER wants to feel like that again. If he is hot, he stays behind at the rink and calls his dad from the weight room. Miles has a way of putting the world back into perspective for his son.
Luca & Liv: In the category of could absolutely never is Luca Fiala. He has an incredible ability to turn it all off once his skates come off. It could be a terrible, game 7 loss in the playoffs and he would still show up for Liv the same way- with a kiss and a smile and a “you ready to go home, baby?” He is actually perfect. I can barely imagine him otherwise. 
Lio & Sav: Lio spent many years of his career coping in unhealthy ways. By the time him and Savannah are together, for real, he has all of them in a cauldron to pull from after every Devils loss. As the captain, he takes it hard. So he pulls out the drinking and the partying and begging to fuck it out of him with Savannah. None of those things are what Savannah wants to do. She wants to talk to him. She wants him to know she isn’t alone by holding his hand or rubbing his back- soft touches that make them melt into a better world. He spends a lot of that first season they are together running from her and himself. It hurts them both. Eventually, with encouragement from Lucie, he reaches out to Nico, who spends countless hours on the phone with him from that moment on. Nico shares stories and wisdom in ways Timo can’t relate to. Nico understands very well the pressure on Lio’s shoulders and together they work that weight into a manageable container that Lio can take off after the game to be present with Sav. 
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aajjks · 1 month
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bingoooo but don’t worry. it gets worse 😁
TC!dad!JK
once again, everything is all your fault. you’ve ruined jungkook’s mood and you’re tempted to bang on his door and take your son back but there’s no use in arguing when the damage has been done. you’re beginning to realize how good you are at wrecking your and jungkook’s relationship but for some reason, you don’t regret choosing your son over him. especially when the empress revealed how all of this: the riches, his people, the territory, the power, the crown, he’ll always choose that over you.
you could offer him unconditional love, a normal life and he’d still choose this. you’re both walking on two separate paths and they don’t meet in the middle no matter how hard you try.
your thoughts are interrupted by iseul taking a seat next to you wanting to pitch in on your thoughts. you’re overcome by a large wave of blue and despite your insistence on standing on your decision, you regret not being there for jungkook the way he wanted you to.
“care to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”
“i think you already know what going on in there. i feel bad but i also don’t
.you know what that bitch told me? she said that jungkook would always choose his crown over me and i
i chose our child over him. i’d do it again if i were faced with that decision but i don’t understand why he’s so upset about it”
“you both are selfish. you want something that you’re not willing to revoke yet expect equal treatment. however, i doubt that is what jungkook is upset about”
“he looked at me like i made a horrible decision, iseul! i love our son so much and if something were to happen to him i’d never forgive myself”
“where’s your faith in your country? don’t you believe the guard will pull through and protect prince jinseoul?”
“i do but i don’t want to find out if they don’t either. so, what? am i supposed to just trust everyone with my son? just say ‘fuck it’ and hope for the best? these people don’t like me, iseul and you know that”
“calm down, y/n” iseul warns you but you’re beginning to see it clearly. she’s not on your team she’s on his and if she thinks you’re going to regret your choice then she’s mistaken.
“you know what? forget it. go kiss up to jungkook since i don’t do it enough” you push past iseul and head inside a bedroom in the ship but you weren’t aware that it was occupied by asami.
“oh
sorry” you apologize not questioning why she’s in one of the bedrooms to begin with.
“no, it’s okay. you can stay in here with me if you’d like” she says and instead of kicking her out and taking the room for yourself, you get on the bed and lay side by side with her.
“are
are you okay?”
“yeah”
you’ve pumped enough bottles for jungkook to feed jinseoul with, so you’re sure he’ll hog him until you all arrive back in goryeo.
“be honest” you say “do you really want to marry jungkook?”
“not really but my mom has always told me that i would wed him”
“hm
”
“what’s wrong?”
“nothing
i’m just a bad wife”
“i don’t think so. you seem very caring and you’re really pretty”
“i didn’t say bad mom i said bad wife but thank you. you’re pretty as well. did you know you and i are only a year apart?”
“you aren’t a bad wife, queen y/n trust me. my mother killed my father for power so you’re far from a bad wife”
wait..did she just say her mother killed the emperor?
“so how old is jungkook? is he 21 as well? you both are so young to be parents”
“u-uh
he’s 24”
“that’s nice. at least i’m a concubine to a man not too far apart in age. maybe we can be friends?”
“sure. i could use more friends. i don’t really have any”
“well now you have me”
“yeah
i guess i do”
~đŸ«§
Seven days pass by too quickly and he’s glad.
He just wants to drown himself in work and his duties do he won’t have to deal with Asami. Even though as expected you three receive a fairly large welcome, back home in Goryeo, Jungkook is not too happy.
He’s so frustrated because his heart is telling him to not be angry at you, what were you supposed to do? Loose your son for whom you’re even tolerating jungkook because of? But yet his brain is telling him that you won’t ever protect him like he expects you to.
Jungkook sighs and he kisses jinseoul before he leaves to join his office, it’s better to work so he won’t think about you.
You’re visibly upset and torn too. He can tell
 but he is now starting to feel so guilty for giving you the cold shoulder, how could he ever be dumb enough to think that you, who is a mother now would choose him instead of your baby for whom you struggled nine months in pain for?
He dumps his head on his wooden table. There’s so much pending work- so many papers that he needs to sign and read.
“Yn
” he cries out your name because the ache in his heart just doesn’t stop- it only worsens.
Maybe he should just suck it up and apologize to you tonight.
____
It’s nighttime and according to the servants- Asami has settled in her chamber-as expected, she’s in the wing where concubines stay rather than the golden wing which is exclusively for the Royal Family members.
Jungkook is so exhausted mentally and emotionally that he doesn’t even feel the pain in his knuckles and hips because he was in the office for so long.
You’re definitely still on his mind and he’s pretty sure you’re upset with him, so he sucks in his teeth as he enters your shared chamber.
There you are, laughing with a giggling Jinseoul in your arms. You look so pretty in your lace night gown. You probably aren’t expecting him.
“Yn
 sorry. I just came in here to apologize for my awfully immature behavior with you this past week
” he scratches the back of his head and he sees just how much jinseoul makes you happy. He is glad.
“I
I guess I started to live in a delusion that you would ever love me
 I thought that you’d protect me even though it was impossible for you
 I’m sorry.” He says, standing infront of you because he doesn’t feel like you’ll appreciate him being next to you right now.
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sheisburiedhere · 4 months
Text
New Player Series
#1
( Hiya I originally wrote this before on wattpad so I just moved it here from my account -TheLookouttsundere so I'll be continuing this series over here on tumblr)
 ....
 The game's title screen and merry music with your potential love interests were the last thing you could recall after being  temporarily blinded with a terrible bright white light.
First of all what the hell happened, you thought to yourself as you try to regain even the tiniest strength in your legs to stand up as the light had caused you to somehow collapse .You remembered you applied to be a beta tester in the Ddlc  new 'real life' GAME, They havent chose a proper name yet I'm sure they'll make a proper name ( any ideas guys???). You appear in a  rather dark large room  with your only source of light being small flashing ones that are in a line leading to a door illuminated by the sign-
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You look at the sign in confusion and worry, you grab the handle but the the door wouldn't budge, instead a stupid white screen appears in front of the door with what looks like a male and female version of a school uniform that is on the main characters in the game.
Choose your uniform:
-Male
-Female
Gender:
-Male
-Female
-Other
You make your choice...
Enter your name:
- ________________________
The screen goes blank.
Then...
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You read this and open the door...
You step in through the door.. 
and now you're falling out the sky !!!
AAAAAHHHHH!! ,shit you fell out the bed .
(Seriously like don't you hate those type of dreams where you feel like you gonna  flipping die and then you wake up like someone hit you with a door)
You trash around in your blanket in frustration as you get up groggily and irritated as you get up to return to bed.
Then you hear knocking...if life couldn't get any better . 
You reply to the knocking: (These are choices based on how you would like to be in the story)
- " I'm coming," you reply politely
-"Stop the FLIPPING KNOCKING YOU TWAT!" you scream in frustration
-" Immmmmmmm commmmmmmminnnggg," you stress on your words to show your... stress( 'shrugs')
You walk/stomp/drag yourself to your bedroom door and pull it open to see-
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Amazing art:(Doki_Satori)/Twitter
Satori replied to your attitude when you reach at the door ( Same order as your responses)
-His bright smile is like energizing pill ,"Morning Sleepyheaddd!!  nice to see I didn't have to break down the door and tickle you awake ." he grins at you😁
- He looks like a small timid puppy with his ears pulled back ," oh sorry if i woke you but i just wanted to make sure we get to school on time... Im sorry." He looks hurt😔
- He laughs at how you open the door tiredly and gives a pat on your head ,but grabs your cheeks and pull them and looks at you like suspiciously. "You've been playing videogames all night haven't you 😑"
You reply
-You giggle, "Good Morning cutie, I missed you!" you kiss him on his cheek causing his to cover his mouth and blush in surpriseđŸ˜Č
-"I'm sorry, I just don't like being woken open so early I didn't mean to yell at you," you said apologetically. You take his hands and place them on your lips gently kissing them. He widens his eyesđŸ˜Č
-đŸ„±đŸ€”you yawned then grab his hand to stop his attack on your cheeks and pretend to think to yourself," Maybe I was ,maybe i wasn't , what you gonna do about it? Punish me?" you smirk while rubbing against his arm😏. He freezes ...."Why do you say things like that!!😳,"
You giggle and pull him in your room, as he still blushes you push him on your bed.
"Okay Satori, give me 30 minutes and ill be ready to go ," you grin at his still shocked blushing state.
You walk out the room with your uniform and a towel, while admiring the realistic environment and looking for bugs and glitching.
As Satori watches you skip out the room , he falls on the bed with his face still red and eyes still wide open.
Satori's mind.....
"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH Y/N WHY IS SHE ACTING SO DIFFERENT AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
Internal screaming!!!!
End 
( 723 words)  
Writer's notes:
The next story will be a one shot, Fluff with the stern and condescending Mateo, maybe he could have a change a heart about you and stop being an ass... but he kind of cute I guess idkđŸ˜‰đŸ€”.
Till next time I'm out
Oh Please tell me what you think about the choices aspect of the main story , I put it there cause I know everyone will have different ways of reacting or  responding to certain situations so hope you like it.
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sometimesoliloquy · 2 years
Text
The Handmaid’s Tale 5x03 “The Border”👀
Thoughts (and some over-thoughts) đŸ€”đŸ€“ TLDR: Look, this episode really wanted to fuck me up, like really make me cry, not sure what I ever did to it. Still some laughs, though. Definitely my favorite of the season so far.
Luke
 can someone please tell me why they are making him so obtuse if they want us to like him?😂 I get that “Gilead is a block box” on a some fronts but Luke has known enough people who have literally first-hand lived in Gilead (not to mention Rachel and Tuello who seem pretty available to him certainly know a bit about how society and the classes function if not the politics) that I’m getting a little tired of the “well he was never there” excuse for his continued ignorance of certain things, like how refugees deal with their own trauma differently, or that Gilead has a very strict dress color-coded dress code and ALL of it has meaning. You mean to tell me he has been gathering all that info and all those photos of little girls in pink dresses and bonnets for years in his search for Hannah and it doesn’t stand out that this is a very different (and much more grown up) outfit? I will ONLY give him a pass on this if it turns out he’s color blind.
I already love Lily, please don’t kill her off. "women always say that when they've done something extraordinary"👏 I love her. I also enjoyed the callback to “I thought you’d be taller”😂 (even though as a 5’3” person who’s always being underestimated I can relate to June🙄😂). I did find it interesting that the last person who delivered that line was “Daisy”, also resistance. And we find out later in s2 that Ofglenn who suicide bombed the new red center opening was also named “Lily”. All fighters, all flowersđŸŒŒ. And now we also have a “Rose”? Coincidence?? (is anything in THT ever a coincidence?)👀
I feel like Moira was seeing June through Lily’s eyes here was so needed. They’ve been so disconnected lately, with Moira just seeming scared of, baffled and frustrated with June, and I think she needed that reminder of badass rebel June, not just the struggling June who killed Fred, but the leader June who made angels flight happen; her friend the fierce loyal fighter with a huge heart, who inspired her to fight and get out when she wanted to give up. She needed to be reminded of the good she’s done and hope she’s inspired in others (I’m not sure she even knew about the exchange for Fred June orchestrated??).  And by the end it seems like they’re back on the same team (at least for now?).
Serena is insufferable. The “respect Fred deserves" 😂😂 SHE IS FLUSTERED WHEN TUELLO WALKS OUT.
Can’t help but love when Lily refers to Nick as “your guy”😏😁
Likewise to her attitude toward June, I noted a similar shift in Moira’s attitude about the women’s camp. Very much see parallels here. She first refers to them as “suicidal”, infers that they’re dangerous and damaged (and she didn’t tell June because she was afraid June would join if she knew about them). They, like June, do not fall into the “healthy” “healing and moving on” mindset she’s subscribed to and think is best. But I think we see her realize maybe she was wrong, and gain and admiration and respect for them and what they’re doing (even if that way is not for her)...especially when we hear that MAGIC WORD...
MAYDAY. May. fucking. Day. Y’all, when I say I cried... I’m starting to well up just thinking about it."We thought it was made up. We thought it wasn’t real. We thought we made it up because we had to.”  “Then you were Mayday too” 😭😭 ...what a cathartic moment... WHAT a pay off.
Also loved when Lily, talking of the people they’ve lost, said “but everyone who works with Mayday knows the stakes”. Can the people who insist June is responsible for the death of literally anyone who dies while anywhere near her proximity please take note? Yes there are some choices she’s made that have specifically yielded bad consequences that she is more culpable for but everyone who chose to plan and fight alongside her (especially rn thinking Beth, Sienna, Alma, Brianna) knew the stakes and made their own decisions, and to say otherwise is to do THEM a disservice, in undermining their agency and their bravery. Enough with the “her fault” Aunt Lydia bullshit.
Lawrence laughing in Tuello’s face, he basically hung a metaphorical “no solicitors” sign on the door and said goodday, sir.
Serena doesn’t like MacKenszie’s suspicions about Fred’s death, she’s worried it might undermine her blackmail ambitions! Oh no!
Aunt Lydia is unhinged and needs therapy and anger management, not prayer. And yes, this is obviously foreshadowing / the seed of Lydia’s journey that will eventually get her to where she is in the Testaments. Got to say, this episode was really keen on foreshadowing.
Back to the Most Awkward Gilead Dinner Party From Hell ever (at least that would be my idea of hell without Lawrence’s one liners to almost save it. And I guess that Nick’s there). Speaking of, Nick (and Rose??maybe?? Might have actually been sincere on her part) performing the “Gilead happy couple show” or whatever that was, was... disorienting? This is the first time we’ve seen him play the “happily-married” “happy to be here, sir!” commander role and yeah it was a little unnerving because it’s so obviously not Nick happy, it’s Nick play acting at happy? Which I guess maybe we would buy except that we know Nick. And while it does seem that he and Rose have a caring partnership with a good deal of trust, and I do hope they are able to share some genuine moments of peace and levity in the safety of their home, we’ve seen him alone with her and by himself and that is not a happy man (and though I very much want happiness for him that will never happen in Gilead). His happy good young loyal commander mask started to slip real quick though when Commander MacAsshole started shit-talking June (calling her a devil! He LITERALLY demonizes her! đŸ˜ˆđŸ€Ł the drama! honestly these Gilead folks are too much) and throwing around thinly veiled metaphorical threats (or was that a simile?). Anyhow, excuse me, Mr. Blaine, PLEASE CONTROL YOUR FACE, SIR.😅 I will be VERY interested to see how much loyalty Mrs. Blaine actually has towards her dad’s (WHO IS HE?) very good friend (I mean THAT can’t be a coincidence). And will she also ultimately be forced to choose between Nick and her Dad?? Not really sure of her deal yet definitely makes me nervous, but we do know Rose also has shown a good deal of empathy for June and she seems genuinely kind hearted... (also she DOES kind of look like a grown up Eden and it kind of throws me 😳)
Of COURSE the young sympathetic guardian helping at the border has to go back to Gilead to HIS WIFE AND CHILD he can’t leave behind. Jesus, why not just name the character “NICodemus”? You could cut this foreshadowing with a knife
I would like to state for the record that I owe Mr. Mark Tuello an apology (FOR NOW, I’ve still got my eye on you, Mark) for assuming HE was the one to pull Nick into an indiscreet rendezvous in a very open gazebo with commanders nearby. Shoulda known, textbook Nick, only ever (and almost always) reckless when it comes to June. Oh, my poor love-sick boy.đŸ„ș Although I might be careful, Mac, the last commander who insisted on calling Nick SON didn’t end up too well.
Started crying again when Naomi appeared in that doorway with baby Charlotte (even if she insists Lydia forced her, I don’t fully buy it). I think this season has made me wish for a redemption arc for Naomi? After Warren gets dealt with I kind of just want her and Janine to escape to Canada and be bff’s and eat macarons and raise Angela Charlotte together, is that wrong? (fan fic idea??👀) Yeah no I guess that would be wrong.
Not sure I can really go into the phone call without aggressively weeping
 there are some things I loved and some I did not, and I may be still processing, so... I will just say that if anyone who makes fan vids really wanted to rip a shipper’s heart out in a very painful but kinda good way, the song “Someone You Loved” (duet version) would be a really good one to use for an edit centered around the call and reflecting back on their relationship so far from both their perspectives (and why they need each other)👀. I purposely say SO FAR because I refuse to accept anything is over, nothing is ever over with these two no matter how many times they say goodbye (and they didn’t even technically SAY goodbye hear, so hah). 
Ok I will say one more thing about it: the Nick fantasizing/day dreaming about them kissing thing was interesting, wasn’t it? For one that they didn’t just use a flashback of a previous kiss (which would have been much easier), and also as I’ve seen mentioned, that this is the first time we’ve seen into a character’s head besides June(??) WTF is going on here? Am I just overthinking it?đŸ€”
I think by now we have scientifically proven that Janine cannot be killed and ok I am here for it (but knocking on wood just in case).
I believe Serena is standing back in the exact spot where she read (the cost of which her pinky), receiving yet another undesirable sentence
she’ll roll with it, though. Infrastructure
😂
I have to end by saying just how much I enjoyed watching Serena get rejected by not one but basically two different men who she thought she had wrapped around her manipulative little finger. And she was SO sure of herself, so smug with Tuello about her “prospects” in GileadđŸ€Ł. Maybe overestimating your charms, Serena?😂😂  I mean, we knew she had no chance with JLaw but I was worried about Tuello for a minute there (STAY STRONG, MARK). The schadenfreude is real, y’all.
Actually no, I’m going to end by saying just how much I enjoyed how fucking SCARED of June Serena is. That’s right, you better RUN đŸ€Ł Just shows what a hypocritical coward she is when she doesn’t have Gilead or Fred or Tuello or her deranged Canadian fan club to hide behind. After June was forced to live under the fear of Serena’s selfish whims, mood swings and cruelty for so long, it is SO gratifying to see the tables turned. That’s not even schadenfreude, that’s just justice.😂
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achaiapelides · 1 year
Text
Kit's Diary
Chapter 11
Dear Ty,
do you sometimes also have those days when nothing works and you get reminded of your past mistakes no matter what you do? I have one of them today. Everything reminds me of you and the worst part is that it's not like I'm mourning somebody who died. You're very well alive, there's no reason for me to be sad. It's just that you don't feel the same I feel for you. It could be so much worse. I always keep telling myself that I shouldn't mourn someone who didn't even die, but that only makes it worse. Now I not only feel sad, but also frustrated that I cannot control my own emotions.
I tried to do my homework, but I get distracted, I even started tidying up my room - but somehow I ended up in my bed curled up in the sheets and crying.
I would have probably spend the whole day like this, if Mina didn't barge into my room and demanded, that I went to the store with her to buy her favourite cookies. Well actually it was just "Kit. Store. Cookie. Mamndad busy." That's all a one and a half year old toddler can say.
Since I couldn't say no to Mina, I went to the store with her to buy cookies and some other groceries. On the way there she asked: "Kit cry. Why sad?", so I told her all about you and what happened between us. I don't think she understood everything, but she kept chanting "Kit love Ty! Kit love Ty!" the whole way to the store and even told the cashier. It was so cute. When I returned home, I actually got enough motivation to get some of my homework done. Maybe I should spend more time with Mina when I get like this. She can cheer everyone up.
Now I'm in my bed again because it's night and I need to sleep. But here I am, yet again thinking about you. I really miss you. Sometimes I hope you can feel when I miss you, but of course that's nonsense. Maybe, if I imagine that you're lying next to me, I can fall asleep.
I hope you can sleep better than me.
Love, Kit
Hello everyone,
I know I just wanted to take a break in February to finish my term paper, but then I read Chain of Thorns and got so emotional afterwards, that I had to keep myself from making this fanfiction too sad. So I needed a Chain of Thorns-recovery month, but I have recovered now and will hopefully be able to update this story every Monday again.
Also, yes I know it's Tuesday today, I just forgot to post this yesterday. Oops.
Anyways, I have a question for you: Do you have any ideas what should definitely happen in this story? Because I'm lacking some new ideas. So if you want, please leave some ideas in the comments.
Thank you 😁
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deeg9 · 2 years
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Chenford + Lucy running from her feelings. Or scared of how she feels about Tim
If you ever decide you do prompts? No pressure. 😃
I'm open to prompts but I'm in a very fluffy mood today, so I'll post an excerpt from 'Up to no Good' that I finished last month. It has a bit of this from Lucy's perspective. I generally find I don't have enough angst in me to let either of them run from their feelings for long though 😁
BUT here are some recommendations that come to mind if you're into longer angst fics:
Falling to Pieces by fuzzy_wuzzy_wuzza_writer
Inevitable by MeadowWard [Lucy's perspective]
Inevitable: Suddenly, Finally by MeadowWard [Tim's perspective]
Up to no Good excerpt:
Figuring out what was next with Chris had been on her mind for a while. Lucy definitely wanted to talk it out with someone, like she always had with Jackson. She’d even considered talking to Tim about it, but she knew she couldn’t handle him somehow reminding her how happy he was with Ashley. Maybe Angela could provide some perspective.
“We just don’t seem to be on the same page anymore,” Lucy began. “Or maybe we never were. I was just looking for something casual but he keeps pressing for us to get more serious.” 
“Like when he wanted you to meet his parents?” Angela mentioned.
“That and he wanted to be exclusive almost right away,” Lucy sighed, a bit frustrated. “The problem isn’t him, though. There’s actually nothing wrong with Chris. He’s a good person, he’s attentive and not afraid of commitment. He wants to plan a future with me.”
“But you don’t want to plan one with him,” Angela finished the thought that had been on the tip of Lucy’s tongue. 
“But why?” Lucy shook her head. “Why don’t I want those things with him?” 
Deep down, Lucy knew the reason, even if she wasn’t ready to say it out loud. It started with a capital T and she was starting to think that if she didn’t majorly change something about her life, she was going to wake up a decade from now still pining after a man who would never see her as more than a friend.
“How’s the sex?” Angela asked,  jarring her out of her train of thought. 
Lucy’s eyes went wide with surprise and Angela rolled her eyes.
“Come on, sex is important if you’re considering a future with this guy,” she explained.  “When Wesley and I were dating, we had to commandeer the precinct supply room a number of times just to stay sane, if you know what I mean.”
“Wow,” Lucy laughed. “Good for you two. I think I’m a little jealous.”
Angela smirked at her. 
“I guess the first couple times we were intimate it was pretty steamy but since then
” Lucy paused and wrinkled her nose. 
Angela waited for her to continue. 
“Honestly, we haven’t been together in weeks,” she admitted.
“Lucy.“  Angela whistled. 
“What?“ Lucy grumbled. 
“Why are you stringing this guy along? You’re way too kind for that.“ Angela pushed.
Lucy knew she was right. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about ending things every time she’d seen him for the last few weeks. Even when they were fighting, it was like she couldn’t find the words.
“He’s the safe choice,” Lucy said after letting the silence sit between them for a moment. She was about to say more but when she saw how eagerly Angela was looking over at her, she hesitated. There wouldn’t be any going back from this. 
“And Tim’s not?” Angela guessed, filling in the blank.
She held Angela’s gaze but didn’t say anything. If she finally told someone how she felt about Tim, those feelings could grow legs and run away. And Angela was his best friend. This was the definition of risky territory. 
“Anything you say stays between us. In the vault. I promise.“  Angela said, seeming to read her mind.
“Not even Wesley?“ Lucy clarified. 
“Of course not,” Angela shot her a bemused look. “He’s such a blabbermouth. All he and James do when they’re together is gossip. It’s disturbing."  
Lucy nodded and then looked down at her hands folded in her lap. 
“I wanted something easy after everything that happened over the last two years. After Caleb, the UC op that brought down La Fiera, your abduction, and then Jackson’s murder–” 
Lucy inhaled deeply and furrowed her brows. 
“Especially after Jackson,” she continued. “I needed to be with someone who wouldn’t be able to break my heart because Jackson was the only one in my life who knew what to say when I needed help putting it back together.” 
Angela’s eyes welled up and she shared a consoling look with Lucy.
“I miss him too. Every day,” Angela strained to say.
“I’m so grateful for what you did, you know?” She smiled sweetly at Angela through a veil of tears. “When you suggested Jackson move in with me, it changed my life. He became my best friend, my confidant, and the brother that I always wanted. I don’t know how I can ever thank you for that.” 
“I’m really glad he had you too,” Angela wiped tears from her cheek. “But you can’t let the fear of losing someone keep you from living your life. You’ve got a big heart, you should allow it to love.” 
“It’s not my ability to open up my heart that I’m worried about.” Lucy disclosed.
“Don’t give up on Tim just yet, okay?” Angela asked. “Trust me on that front.” 
“Okay,” Lucy said slowly, wondering what insights lay behind Angela’s words. If anyone knew how Tim felt, it was her. But how long should she let herself hope?
Read the whole thing on AO3
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starlight-starfury · 1 year
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Hello, I come bearing questions for the ask game 😁 1, 5, 7, 13, 21, 22, 36, 42 💓
Thank you so much for asking!!! â˜șïžđŸ’–đŸ’–
1. Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?
This definitely depends on the fic!! I usually daydream a lot because that’s how I figure out what scenes I want to write haha, but I think with Dark Fire I went for it as soon as I had the ideas. Normally I wait a while because I like to plan things out first, but I’ll start writing down little snippets of dialogue or descriptions if they pop into my head so that I have them there for later until I start writing the fic in full.
5. How many wips do you have? What fandoms/pairings are they for?
The only fic I have in progress is Elhalas for Tyril x Raine 😂 for a while I was alternating between that one and Buried Memories but it was getting frustrating to keep switching back and forth so I finally finished it after months of struggling with it, which I think is for the best because focusing on more than one wip at a time is kind of stressful, and also Elhalas requires a lot of focus because it’s a huge fic to work on 😅
7. Post a snippet from a wip.
Good luck trying to figure out what’s happening here 👀 honestly this is probably the hardest fic I’ve done so far but I’m also super excited about it
All she could do was listen. She heard the faint trickling of water from a crack in the rocks nearby, no doubt it was tainted too. Somewhere else in the cavern, she could hear the sound of iron chains being dragged across the ground, and a pair of heavy footsteps edging closer and closer. A shadow fell over her crumpled body in the form of two dark wings, slowly unfurling with a cold breeze that sent chills up her spine. Through blurred vision she caught a glimpse of obsidian eyes, harsh and cold as they bore into her own.
13. Do you listen to music while you write?  If yes, what have you been listening to recently?
I don’t actually listen to music while I’m writing because I can’t concentrate 😭 I must have a couple hundred ambience tracks saved on youtube to play in the background at this point, but I forget to use them while I’m writing so I sit in silence instead but this works for me 😂 I did find this one soundtrack that I listen to before writing Elhalas because it fits that fic well and even the name of the song matches perfectly and I was going to link it here but it’s not working 😞
21. Do you prefer writing chaptered fics or one-shots?
Hmm I think I prefer to write one-shots for fanfics, most of my ideas only fit into a one-shot anyway 😂
22. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process?  How do you come up with titles?
This also varies depending on the fic 😂 most of the time I only come up with a title towards the end of writing a fic, I think the only titles I had thought of before writing them were Haunted Memories and Dark Fire (titles are so hard). As to how I come up with them I have no idea haha, I just go with whatever I think sounds cool and matches the fic lmao
36. What fic are you proudest of?
Hmm I think maybe Dark Fire đŸ„ș I actually started writing it as a way to try and break out of my writer’s block and at the time I didn’t even have a blog here so I wasn’t originally planning to post it!! Also funny story but it was technically the first fic I started writing, but since Haunted Memories was a lot shorter it ended up being posted first. Parts of it were really difficult to write but I wanted to see how the duel with Kaya (well technically Xenia) went down so I stuck with it and I think it turned out okay 😅
42. What’s your favorite title that you’ve come up with?
Field of Stars!!! I just loved how pretty it sounded and think it matched the fic well â˜șïžđŸ’–
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