Tumgik
#[ if anything-- see it as follows: i /want you back on that list/. but i will hold myself and you to that. ]
sickslimez · 3 days
Text
STILL IN LOVE! #1 — TOJI FUSHIGURO
Tumblr media
SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…
INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
Tumblr media
ex husband! who stops by your house to drop your kids off after their weekend with him. He’s walking your daughter, Naya, and Megumi to the front door, smiles adorning their chubby little faces. “Hi, mommy!” Naya giggles, running to hug you. Toji is walking slowly behind Megumi, ruffling the little boys hair.
“Hi, baby.” You smile, kissing her cheek. “You two have fun with daddy?” You hug Megumi as well, kissing the top of his head.
“Yeah, we met dad’s new girlfriend,” the little boy casually says as he walks past you and into the house to place his stuff down. Your raise your eyebrows in surprise, eyes following your sons figure before he disappears into the house.
“She’s in the car! Her name is Yoko!” Your daughter giggled before following her brother. You awkwardly clear your throat as it was only you and toji standing outside.
“Girlfriend, huh?” You force a smile, rubbing your palms on your jeans as you stare at him.
“Yeah, those two beat me to it before I could say anything,” he chuckled. “How was your weekend, though, mama?” He tilts his head slightly. The familiar nickname now a normal thing between you two ever since you gave birth to your two kids. From the looks of it, it seems like Toji won’t break out of the habit of saying it.
"Wow, well...congrats." You smile. There was a burning sensation in your chest, a ringing in your ears as you stared at the man in front of you. It was wrong of you to feel this way about the situation, to feel jealous. Toji was your ex husband, you two cut ties over a year ago.
"Yeah, thanks." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. The thing about you and Toji is that there was still something there that neither of you wanted to confront. The sex that you both still had with each other wasn't just casual sex, him whispering in your ear how much he missed you. How he'd hold you after and gently kiss your lips reminded you of the times you were still together. The nights he slept over and stayed for breakfast, bonding like one big family. How he still brought you gifts for your birthday and valentines day despite not being together. You weren't sure what to make of it, but knowing Toji, you knew not to take him seriously.
He was a player before you met him and you wouldn't be surprised if he ended becoming a player again. And that was the case exactly. As much as you told yourself not to fall for all his little tricks, you still found yourself doing it anyway. He was your husband for over five years, he was the father of your children. How could you not? It's why you feel so jealous now. It only seems that he was using you and playing you before he found himself another girl to entertain him. Of course, what more could you expect?
"Okay, I'll see you next weekend, mama." He turned around so effortlessly, walking off of your doorstep with a small wave.
"See you," you nonchalantly replied. Your eyes followed his figure as he got into his car, watching him kiss the new girl he had eyes for. Would it be wrong for you to say you were still in love with your ex husband?
series masterlist
tag list (comment to be added):
@sweetpo1son @lovebittenbyevans @ryumurin @he4ts444mi @cherrypieyourface @lemonintrovert01 @ladysi0 @avanly @chilichopsticks @tananaxx @akusrider @irlbungee @my-anime-garden
398 notes · View notes
Club Fun
Tumblr media Tumblr media
A/n: this is a draft that I’ve had for a while and I just kept putting it off posting because I wasn’t sure I liked it but I wanted to put it out and see what other people think 💕 thanks for reading I appreciate it 💕
(This also isn’t proofread at all soooo I’m sorry for any mistakes)
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, adult themes and Nat being a pain in the ass
"Come on Y/n how bad could a gentleman's club be?" Nat pushed you through the doors even with you groaning and pushing back against her
"Nat I have a literal alien in my body and I don't know what will set them off" you felt a grumble in your head
"I am not a prepubescent teenager Y/n I am sophisticated"
"Only because you can't survive without me out of my body" you grumbled back and Nat really wished she could understand what you were saying to the alien
You looked up and sighed "okay let's go in"
Nat smiled wide and guided you through the small hallway to the second bouncer "hey we're Nat and Y/n, we have a table booked under Tony Stark?"
The man looked you both over the at the list seeing your names and allowing you past "please keep your hands to yourselves and don't try and get any dancer's numbers because they'll just laugh at you" he laughed and you rolled your eyes turning to Nat
"does he think we're kids? Pretty sure I can control myself around some scantily clad women"
Nat scoffed "talk about yourself Y/n, I see a hot woman staring at me I'll give her money my number, my soul anything the sexy lady wants"
You giggled "you'll get us kicked out the moment we sit down at the booth"
Nat ignored you as she eyed up a waitress walking past who gave her a wink in response "yeah yeah whatever I'm gonna go and get some free drinks" she patted you on the back leaving you alone, well with the alien obviously
"We are being stared at"
You glanced around not noticing anything "what are you talking about?"
They turned your body around suddenly nearly falling over before you managed to steady yourself "dude what the fuck, you can't just turn me around like that!" You whisper shouted at them but they ignored you
"There is a redhead lady who is looking at us and biting her lip, I think she is older than us" you were pointed towards said woman and she gave you a wink
"Oh you're right, do you think she wants us to go over?" Before you could say anything else the woman in question walked over to you "hi pretty girl, do you need some help? You look a little lost"
The sweetness in her voice made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and your mouth go dry "oh-er no-no thanks my friend is just getting drinks" you glanced at Nat who was very much not getting your drinks but instead was making out with the waitress she followed after
"It seems you're friend is a little busy right now, I'll take you to your booth" she pulled you towards a booth, her hand gripping your own sweaty mess of a hand.
You were near enough thrown into the booth and the woman followed close near enough sat in your lap "how about I get us some shots? They should loosen your cute tongue"
"...okay" you whispered and the women smiled kissing you on the cheek turning around and singling for a waiter to come over with their tray of shots
"How many miss Scarlet?" The man asked and she told him to put the tray down "thanks Brucie"
He left without another word and she took a glass from the tray pointing it towards you "here you go pretty girl" she tipped the drink towards your mouth and you opened your mouth taking the drink "good?"
You nodded licking the left over liquid from your lips "yeah it's good"
The woman's piercing green eyes were locked onto yours sitting in silence for a few moments before she spoke again "can I interest you in a dance?" She asked sweetly and you shook your head maybe a little too much making her pout
"Awe are you sure? I can relive all of that clear tension coming off of your shoulders, you're too pretty to be stressed"
She stood up bringing you with her and walking off towards Nat who managed to pull her face away from the waitress long enough to talk to you
"Y/n! This place is amazing! This is Maria, she's great" her ragged breath made you laugh "I'm sure she is amazing Nat"
Maria looked behind you to the woman and winked "so Scarlet, is this your new little conquest?"
So her name was Scarlet, or maybe just her stage name, you were certain no one gave their real names out, but this Maria did? She's not a dancer though you guessed?
Scarlet's arms wrapped around your waist getting your attention and she chuckled when you jumped "don't think too hard there pretty girl" she looked to Maria "I offered a dance but she turned me down Mia"
You couldn't see her face but you knew she was pouting about you refusing a dance "Y/n you can't refuse a dance! That's the whole point of the club!"
"I know but-
"No buts Y/n! Go on Scarlet take her to a room and help her relax" Nat demanded ignoring your embarrassed face
"Whatever the costumer wants they get Natalia" Scarlet smirked grabbing your hand leading you through the club away from the safety of people and noise for a quiet private room
"You need to relax honey, I promise you're okay I'll take such good care of you" she purred sitting you down on the couch and you finally looked at her properly seeing the dark red blazer wrapped around her body
"Y/n your body is heating up is everything okay?"
You couldn't answer them instead watching Scarlet unbutton her blazer dropping it to the floor
"Holy shit" you whispered letting your eyes wonder over her lingerie barley covering her body, it was useless being there in all honesty, her breasts were practically spilling out and that's where you met her finger pointing to her face "my eyes are up here princess" she chuckled and your eyes snapped up
"S-sorry!"
She giggled coming towards you and straddling your lap placing a leg on either side "don't say sorry for admiring beauty honey, let's start with your name again"
"Y-y/n" you whispered feeling your hands unintentionally land on her thighs and she gasped "getting bold Y/n? I like it"
"You were moving too slow so I needed to help you Y/n"
You knew they where right, you had a woman, a hot woman you may add on your lap wearing the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and yeah sure it’s part of her job but you could have fun right?
“Get out of your pretty head Y/n” she brought you out of your thoughts and jumped at how you could feel her breath on your face as she whispered in your ear “so Y/n are you going to tell me what you I can do for you?
“This is all new to me so I don’t know what to ask for”
Scarlet looked over you and your slightly trembling body “how about a kiss?" She didn't really wait for answer before kissing you on the lips softly, you remained frozen until you were mentally slapped by your symbiote
"Y/n I do not get aroused or feel sexual tension but even I am suffering through this air of arousal, kiss her back"
You relaxed into the kiss sighing as you kissed her back, feeling Venom slip into your body and elongate your tongue and force her mouth open slipping the long tongue inside and wrapping around her own, Scarlet either didn't realise or didn't care because she moaned into the kiss trying to gain some kind of control
When you both had to pull away for some air Scarlet was shocked seeing the tongue lull out of your mouth "what the hell is that? Looks like your tongue had an erection" when she laughed and didn't run away from you or slap you your heart grew ten sizes, it was nice you guessed if still little strange.
"Can you even talk with that thing?" she giggled and wen to kiss you again but you pulled away letting your tongue return to its normal size
"Everthing okay?" She placed a kiss on your cheek as a reassurance and you smiled
"Have you ever heard of symbiotes?"
She sat back on your lap thinking about it "like that alien that tried to destroy the world? Are you that alien?"
You shook your head "no! No at all, I was just infect-sorry chosen to be a host for one...do you want to meet them?"
Scarlet had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing "well this is nothing like my normal encounters here but sure, let's see the little alien"
Venom didn't need to be told twice and their tendrils appeared forming a their head smiling at Scarlet
"You are a very pretty lady miss Scarlet, I cannot feel aroused or these silly human feelings but you have a hot body and Y/n agrees"
"Venom! Just stop talking" you groaned trying to get away but you were still trapped under Scarlet's thighs
"God this is so weird, it's a good thing you're hot" she lent forward placing a kiss on your neck and then biting you there, you looked at Venom whispering "go back"
They looked at you funny so you said it again "it's a private moment now Venom"
They understood and retreated back into your body quickly and you focused back on the feeling of her soft lips on your neck.
******************************************************************
“My lips are chapped Nat” Maria pulled away from Nat who still tried chasing after her “oh come on, they’re not that bad”
The waitress gently pushed her away “you’re insatiable, I like it, give me a few minutes and I’ll take you somewhere nice”
‘Where?” She questioned
“To the best room we have, it’s got a mini fridge” Maria kissed Nat again softly refusing to let her take over the kiss again “plus we can watch the cameras for your friend”
Nat’s eyes widened “there’s cameras in the room?”
Maria laughed “obviously, how else are we supposed to protect our girls?”
She lead Nat through the club into a closed off area and through a door to a room with a couch, a mini fridge and the cameras she mentioned
“This looks like a pervs hangout” Nat commented but Maria just rolled her eyes pushing the redhead to the couch “just sit there and be quiet, if that’s something you can do”
"I prefer being loud" Nat winked
"I can’t wait to prove that later" Maria took some wine out of the fridge and sat next to the woman giving her a kiss on the cheek “okay let’s get this started" she turned on the Tv changing the channel through the rooms before finding you and Scarlet
"Ugh boring they're just talking" nat looked through the screen, she hoped she could read lips so she knew what you were saying, when she got a closer look she noticed Venom's head at the side of you "what the fuck?!"
Maria put down the wine quickly looking at these screen "what's that?! Is that a puppet? Does your friend have a puppet kink? A little odd but I'm sure Scarlet can work with that" Maria was laughing but Nat only let out a small chuckle too focused on why the hell Venom decided to make themselves known, suddenly Scarlet lent forward kissing and started kissing your neck
"The puppet worked" Maria laughed and Nat managed a small laugh "hah yeah sure" she turned the TV off instead not wanting to focus on you and your weird alien friend, she had no idea why Scarlet didn't mind it though
"Well they're boring now"
******************************************************************
Scarlet's lips moved up to your ear "you're not the only one with a secret princess"
Your smile dropped and you pulled away suddenly but Scarlet just laughed "it's okay honey nothing horrible, do you know what a coven is?"
You flexed your hands on her thighs and swallowed nervously "like witches?"
She smiled "yes"
"Are you a witch?"
She simply nodded and flashed her red eyes making you gasp "shit that's so cool!" You were memorised, maybe a little scared since witches were seen as strange or evil but a dancer at a gentleman's club couldn't be evil...right?
"I'm not evil honey, just someone who gets bored easily and needs something to do"
Did she read your mind?? You looked at her surprised and she giggled "yes princess I can read minds and yours has been a delight to listen too"
That's so weird but cool as well, so what so we do now?"
"Well, my real name is Wanda to start with, I use Scarlet because the guys like it, and for security of course"
You were really trying to listen honestly you were but your eyes kept flickering down to her chest
"You're not listening to a thing I'm saying are you?" Wanda laughed using her finger to lift up your chin "it's okay, I know what you really want" she lent forward to kiss you but a bell went off stopping her in her tracks "oooh sorry princess times up"
She tried pulling away but your fingers dug into her thighs keeping her there "but you were going to kiss me again?”
She raised her eyebrow and smiled at you "I know, I love leaving my clients on edge, it guarantees they come back"
This time Venom growled and appeared again "that seems a little unfair Wanda, we showed you me, I think we deserve a treat"
She just shrugged managing to pull away from you standing up and covering herself with her robe "are you saying you don't want to see me again?"
Both you and Venom were confused
"Because if I slept with you that's what would happen, and I'm quite enjoying your company"
"She is teasing us Y/n"
You agreed "she is"
Wanda watched you as you were thinking, and you knew she was reading your mind "you have some hot thoughts in there Y/n, a stark difference from when we first started, now come on, your friend will be waiting for you"
You sighed reluctantly getting up and going past Wanda when she gave you a small smack on your ass "hey!"
She laughed "I couldn't help myself honey"
****************************************************************
"Nice to finally see you two out of the room, did you give her the full dance Scarlet?" Maria laughed glancing between the two of you and the redhead smiled wrapping her fingers around your waist "she had a wonderful time Maria, she'll be coming back tomorrow night"
Nat gasped and you looked at her "you're coming back?! Wow Y/n, she must've given you the full treatment eh?"
When your face blushed Wanda kissed your cheek "you're so cute malen'kiy you can have my number, so call me when you're here tomorrow and I'll come and get you"
You nodded and went to kiss Wanda but you weren't too sure until Wanda pulled you in close kissing you hard
"Oooooohhhh!" Nat exclaimed excitedly "Maria did you see that?! My little virgin is getting somewhere!"
You instantly pulled back going bright red "Nat! I'm not a virgin! I've slept with loads of women"
Both women laughed and Wanda tried hiding her own smirk "it's okay princess, I'm an excellent teacher"
You groaned pulling away from the woman "come on Nat before I sink into the ground from embarrassment"
Nat giggled and kissed Maria one more time "so it look's like I'll see you tomorrow?"
"I'll have the usual room ready" she winked in response kissing the redhead again
"Do I get a good-bye kiss?" Wanda pouted and you rolled your eyes walking back to her "I never expected this coming into a strip club" holding the woman's face in your hands you kissed Wanda softly before pulling away then kissing her nose
"Hmm you're my favourite client malen'kiy"
"I have no idea what that Russian word means but I hope it's good"
Wanda giggled kissing the side of your head "Ty takaya ocharovatel'naya printsessa, dumayu, ya ostavlyu tebya ty moya"
You heard Nat soft gasp from the side of you and you whipped your head around to her "did she say something shocking?"
Wanda looked to Nat shaking her head and Nat nodded "just some sickly sweet thing about you, typical for you to come into a gentleman's cub for a dance from a stripper to come out with a potential partner"
You shrugged "hey I can't help it if I have incredible game"
The group burst out laughing even Wanda joined in making you pout
"Y/n I love you I really do but you're really terrible with women, I'm surprised Wanda actually made out with you"
You blushed hard leaner closer into Wanda "yeah well fuck you Nat" okay it wasn't the best comeback but its the only one you could think of
"It's okay Y/n I thought that was a very good comeback" Wanda kissed your cheek "okay honey, I've got to go back to work"
You started to talk back but a finger shushed your lips "I still need money my love but I want you back here tomorrow okay?"
You nodded "I'm definitely coming back all the time Wanda, I'll sit in the corner with a snack"
Wanda held in a giggle rubbing your shoulder "oh honey I don't think my clients would enjoy that"
"Then they'd to keep their hands off of you" you retorted and Wanda laughed "my little possessive girl don't worry, you'll get the special private dances"
It was your turn to blush hard again and you had to keep yourself steady "o-oh okay cool yeah! Great"
Nat laughed “you’re a mess, come on idiot let’s go”
172 notes · View notes
lilghostiequinni · 2 days
Text
Just One More
Tumblr media
Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist
Pairing: Olympic Figure skater!female oc(Iclyn;Lyn) x Lando Norris
Warnings: Fluffy, Established relationship
Summary: She's a gold medalist for the British Figure Skating team. They had been friends before they dated; they started dating when they were 16; many would say they're stupid for never breaking up, not when he started racing full-time, not when she went to college and made the Olympic team. Not when he moved to Monaco, where she followed, always flying back and forth; on off seasons, she traveled with him, and he made it to every competition he could. Not many know the intensity of their relationship at all.
Requested: NO / yes
Tumblr media
Icelyn had sat in front of Lando in the hotel room in Canada for his race this weekend. He was braiding her hair over and over again. Lando would start a braid then undo it only to redo it differently.
It was just a way to pass the time as they waited for something. Also, it gave Lando something to do with his hands that wasn't fiddling with something.
"Lando."
"Yeah, baby," Lando answered.
"Could I take you skating this winter? You make a video out of it," Lyn says as her eyes slip close a little from Lando running his fingers through her hair.
"You just want to see me embarrass myself," Lando says momentarily, stopping his movements and earning a whine from the woman in front of him.
"No, I just want to teach you, but I guess also that. You can handle g-force. Surely you can handle skates," Lyn says as she leans back, allowing Lando to wrap his arms around her shoulders, holding her against him.
"How about if you win another medal, I'll let you put me on skates," Lando says, kissing her temple after he does.
Lyn nods and cuddles closer to Lando, "Sleep."
Lando chuckles at her, "It's two in the afternoon."
"So?" She questions in return as she shifts to be able to get closer.
Lando chuckles and holds her closer still.
Tumblr media
There was a period of grace between her ability to get another medal, and in that time, Lando won more races and won the championship in 2025, hoping for the same results in 2026.
But his fiancee, Lyn, is currently face tracking it to another gold medal win for her and the British team.
"And the gold medal goes to... Iclyn Lumi!"
Lyn almost collapses before she makes her way to the 1st place podium on the ice.
She stands on the podium and gets her medal. The two in 2nd and 3rd place congratulate her on the win.
While she's won before, it never feels completely different. It's the same joy, just not the same as the first time.
What's one more medal in her collection? What makes this win all the better is the chance to finally make her fiance get on the ice.
Lyn smiled so widely that she could not stop the tears from running down her face as she got off the ice.
Lyn had been looking forward for over a year to get her fiance on the ice.
When she does, she can't help but ask to turn it into a video and now she's not the only one laughing at her fiance trying to skate.
"Next medal, it can be anything but skating," Lando tells her, because what's just one more going to do?
Tumblr media
A/N: Yeah, it's shorter, but it made sense
Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @hellothere9597
If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop
159 notes · View notes
Text
Back-ish.
Took a bit to finish this as Work Hell and exhaustion (and editing for format ReasonsTM)
Enjoy, and let me know if there’s anything in particular you want explored next, and i’ll see if i can add it to the list for the drabbles (the characters hijack everything so no guarantees)
Masterpost Here
Contrary to popular belief, Skulker is good at his job.
He knows how to craft a perfect trap, how to hunt virtually every type of ghost, and has succeeded every time with enough persistence. The halfa was proving an excellent challenge and reminder that hunting took time and planning.
The issue was he also knew his prey was being hunted by another, and this one’s motives were unknown. This ectopus made it clear that it intends to drown the whelp in either form, and that. That annoyed Skulker.
He followed the rules of hunting. Do not go after pregnant entities, or those capable of during their respective spawning season(s). Only hunt what is permitted. Always release your prey if they are endangered, but you may take something to commemorate the event.
Skulker’s choice was the halfa’s first pelt. He’d grow a new one in a year or so, and it would give the halfa time to acclimate to the zone rather than guarding the portal and the whole of Amity so viciously.
But this Ectopus ignored the rules of engaging with the halfa—only treat Phantom and Fenton as the same person when the “ghost hunting”parents were not around. No need to put the child at risk long term.
Halfas were extinct in the realms far longer than most were certain of, a few reigns before Pariah at least. And Skulker was well aware most of the ghosts and Neverborn he interacted with were born well into the Age of Anarchy as Ghost Writer and the record keepers were so fond of calling it.
And it was only after Pariah’s ‘sleep’ began that the liminal population declined on the Living’s side. Apparently species like Sampson’s took quite the hit, most no longer existing. Sampson was one of two Purpler Back Gorillas alive.
Understandably, the liminal gorilla was frustrated. Non-liminals failed to comprehend ghost speak, their culture was almost dead due lack of population and they were treated more like a lab rat than a person.
That was before encountering the first liminal—admittedly halfas pushed the limits of liminality—she’d found existed besides herself. The whelp’s understanding of the language was basic, but he hasn’t had his first shedding yet nor did he seem to interact with other liminals often either.
Skulker was not idiotic enough to ignore the Whelp’s need for his ghost parent’s protection. It was the issue of getting Sampson around Amity to protect the whelp from this “Taco” ectopus that was an issue.
He made sure to bring a fruit basket from the Realms, and included a shedding from a birdlike entity.
Sampson snarled until he left the offering.
“I have news about your son. He is ill,” Skulker began.
Sampson growled ill???Howexplain
“Likely the overhunting from Taco the Ectopus, as the whelp calls them, but there may be other causes. He’s rather old now to not have undergone his first shedding—don’t look at me like that we both know he is—and is experiencing soul form regression. there are those in the Realms who can help.”
Sampson beat her chest. yesHelphow?
“We need to bring him to Realm’s doctors. He may need to reside in his haunt, or require treatment of a number of things. I am not certain, but this Taco may require independent capture and containment. The doctors will know better,” Skulker admitted.
goNOW
“… yes we can go once we have the whelp—does his core have a particular sensation attached to it?”
ColdbigHugemoving
“I’ll let the doctors know when we arrive. Do you want to bring him in his small form, or one of his usual two?”
smallEasycarry
“He should be headed to the aquarium tonight, shall I set up the blob ghost perimeter?” It was the easiest way to monitor one’s prey and lire away competition… and confirm whether or not this “Taco” is targeting the whelp personally or as an ecto source.
He’s hoping the latter, but has a sinking feeling it will be the former. And he will have to hide the stupid finned brat in his prosthetic…
He should see if his girlfriend or her friends don’t mind helping him distract the intruder from the whelp.
Johnny and Kitty are rather fond of their ex. And Ember is insistent on setting up more playdates between her frightmate Youngblood and the whelp. Something about them being ‘same font different hat’ that he didn’t quite get. Oh well, if it didn’t involve animals, weapons, tactics or hunting he rarely gave it much thought in life, let alone his afterlife.
With Sampson’s (terrifying) blessing, Skulker got to work.
Masterpost Here
Tags: @skulld3mort-1fan @theizzyof3malec3 @brattysleepyreader @sebas-nights @elidaweirdotaku0520 @bianca-hooks123 @the-autistic-spider @laurcad123 @just-lurking-here-dont-mind-meh @atinygracie @stars-obsession-pit @wanderwithwings @aibhilin-atibeka
80 notes · View notes
noxturnalpascal · 2 days
Text
Devotion 🖤 III. Path to the Future (Ch 9)
Tumblr media
CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader
Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?
Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.
*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*
PREVIOUS
III. Path to the Future
CH 9 (6k) “She left.”
The words ring in his ears, drowning out the cacophony of multiple things happening all at once. He’s trying to throw a jacket and shoes on while Tess is grabbing at him and begging him to wait until first light. He’s grabbing at Danny and demanding to know everything while Diego wails, apologizing that they didn’t look after you enough. The noise brings the other women downstairs and they all shout over each other, some arguing Joel should wait for a search party to be formed and some saying they’ll go with him and should leave right now. 
In the end, Joel acquiesces to Tess, not wanting to ignore her heartfelt pleading after the hours they just spent commiserating together. He waits until first light to leave with Danny, Diego, and Sasha in tow. He orders Danny and Diego to ride their mounts to the east and west, climbing opposite peaks on either side of the valley to look for any sign of you. He sends Sasha north along the valley to look for the same and orders everyone to send up smoke signals if they see anything and to meet back at the house no later than sundown. But he knows all of those efforts will be fruitless.
He already knows that you wouldn’t bother coming back through the town when your goal was clearly to get as far away from him as possible. You would have left the farm and continued south, which is the direction he goes. As Sasha stuffs snacks and canteens in everyone’s packs before they split up, she repeats Joel’s words back to him several times, meet back here by sundown, but by the look on her face she already knows what he does, that he won’t be back until he’s found you.
---
Joel watched for smoke signals behind him all day until the sun began to sink below the treeline, making it impossible for him to see anything short of flares, which he knew they didn’t have. He figured he’d be the first one to see signs of you anyways, which he did eventually. The next town south in the valley was about a four hour walk and while he knew you’d probably never been through there, it was well picked over by his people and had been free of infected every time he’d been there.
He thought you’d be cautious and avoid the town, his hunch confirmed when he made his way up the gentle slope just north of the town and saw the footprints you’d left. The spring sun had melted the snow and left the ground muddy, and when you’d come through here late last night you most likely hadn’t even thought about covering your tracks. But now he knows he chose the right direction, and he pushes forward along the ridge, following the breadcrumbs you unknowingly left for him.
Joel follows your tracks along the river - just beside the interstate - noticing you keep to the treeline instead of traveling along the roadway, which has better footing but would leave you exposed. You also head east, which is the opposite direction of the bigger mountain range and also away from the state’s most populated city. You’re avoiding overexertion and big-cities. Maybe you do have some survival instincts after all.
He nearly loses your tracks mid-afternoon when you veer away from the river at another city but takes a gamble and catches signs of you again along the road leading towards the New Hampshire border. You’re not looking for populated areas here, there isn’t even any evidence you’ve stopped anywhere along the way. He assumes you’ve already got a destination in mind and are focused on heading there. 
Long after sunset Joel finally decides to find a place to lie down for a while. He lays there in the dark and tries not to think about how worried Tess must be since he never came back, or how you’re somewhere out here too - all alone in the cold darkness. He knows this is all his fuckin’ fault. What a mess he’s made. He actually convinced himself that he was helping people, that he was saving them. He let himself believe them when they told him what a good man he was, a protector and a provider. 
He falls into a fitful sleep and when he awakes a short time later he decides to forgo any further attempts at rest and continue on your trail. He hopes you spent more time with your eyes closed than he did and he can make up some ground on the head start you got. He follows your winding trail along the woods’ edge, through overgrown fields, around a quarry, and over creeks, all avoiding any majorly populated areas. 
The only time you leave yourself exposed is through an hours-long stretch going through a wooded valley, where walking the roadway is your solitary option to avoid climbing up and down the rocky hills on either side of the pavement. By his calculations you probably traveled this section last night while he attempted sleep, which would have made your trek along the road a more protected position than he is currently in, trudging though the early morning hours and into the rising sun. 
He hikes on through the morning, thinking over and over in his head what he’ll say to you when he finds you, and eats the last of his packed food around noon. He knows he can refill his canteen in the river just ahead, which creates the border of Vermont and New Hampshire. He also knows there’s a major city if he continues on his path and knows that’s the reason your tracks start to head south into what his map tells him is a wide forest. 
This might be good he thinks, since he’s been hiking for nearly 30 hours and only slept a handful of them. He knows he could use a shady and secure place to take a nap. He waits until he’s about an hour’s hike from the last farm he passed before he walks off the trail to find somewhere to rest. Keeping the road just in sight, he walks straight through the woods and over a brook, finding a soft collection of last autumn's fallen leaves on which to rest his head. With the bird songs in his ear and the soft rustle of trees above him, sleep quickly overtakes him.
He jolts awake, a sound skimming his senses and alerting him to danger. He lies there, statue-still, and tries to listen past the woosh of the pumping blood in his ears, taking deep breaths to slow his thumping heartbeat. It’s dark here in the thick trees and the sun is low in the sky. He must have slept most of the afternoon away but he can tell it’s not evening yet. Suddenly Joel realizes it’s not a sound that woke him but the lack of sound. There are no birds singing, no insects buzzing, just the eerie sound of the branches creaking and the new spring leaves dancing on their boughs. 
He slowly sits up - weapon in hand and his head on a swivel - trying to listen for the clues that nature around him has already picked up on. A predator is nearby. Infected wouldn’t be this quiet, they’re mindless and insatiable and only care about one thing. This is either a large animal or a human. He actually finds himself hoping to catch sight of a black bear as opposed to the alternative.
Before he can get up from his sleeping position he hears quick footsteps behind him and a blunt crack to the back of his head, the pain radiating across his skull. He slumps forward and groans in pain, his hands loosening around his gun. He hears footsteps move around the front of him and feels his rifle being snatched out of his slackened grasp. A foot kicks at his torso and he groans again.
“He’s not out, you gotta hit him again,” he hears you say above him. 
No, it can’t be you. There’s no way.
“I’m not getting near him again, you said he was dangerous,” he hears a male voice behind him say. 
You’re goddamn right he’s dangerous, and as soon as his head stops pounding he’s going to-
A second thump, this time on the side of his head, is the last thing he feels before everything goes black. 
---
Joel doesn’t gain consciousness quickly, like coming up for air after being underwater. Instead it comes back in waves, just a few words here and there, a musty smell, the familiar sound of your voice, the beam of a flashlight hitting his eyelids. He’s trying to make sense of it but it’s all jumbled up and he’s not sure how to put the pieces together. He tries to sort out his thoughts bit by bit, every time he’s conscious he tries to figure one thing out and hold it in his mind, to remember it before he passes out again.
He knows he’s in a chair, he can hear murmured echos so he imagines the room is large, but the soft sounds of crickets outside tell him there's at least one window nearby. He knows he’s tied up, he can feel bindings wrapped around him and his arms are pinned behind his back. He knows he’s been relieved of his guns, the usual weights at his hip and ankle not present. When he’s finally able to stay awake for long enough to string a coherent thought together, he decides to open one eye for a peek at his surroundings.
He’s in a very large and long room - wooden tables and chairs scattered around - creating a maze of objects between him and five figures standing on the opposite end of the room. It’s dark - he’s been out for a while - and he can’t make out their faces or their conversations but he can see that two are tall and three are shorter. He thinks at least one of them is a woman. Could it be you? He thought he’d heard your voice.
Unable to hear any actual words amidst the murmur of conversation, Joel looks around again, trying not to move his head so he still appears unconscious. Divided windows line both sides of the building, moonlight pouring in from what he imagines is the south side and reflecting off the stark white rafters above him. He takes in the amount of chairs and tables in front of him and although he can’t turn his head, he would wager money there’s a kitchen behind him. If he had to guess where he was he’d say this was probably an old summer camp’s dining hall, the craftsman style construction pointing to a mid-century build.
He hears shuffling and sees two of the figures crossing the room towards him so he shuts his eyes and pretends to be unconscious again. Around tables and chairs he hears their soft footsteps, he’s still out muttered by a deep, gruff voice. He hears the footsteps stop just in front of him and feels a couple pokes to his chest. He does his best to play possum until he hears your voice - definitely your voice - shouting from across the room.
“You better make sure you double check him for weapons.”
“You already told us that three fuckin’ times,” a nasally voice with a southern twang shouts back.
A different, deeper voice says to quit hollerin’, then there’s a short back and forth between the two men in front of him filled with curse words while he hears stomping feet making their way over from the other side of the room. He hears your voice again but this time all three of you are cussing in hissed whispers, the most prominent phrase being fuck you, and he can’t take it anymore. He lifts his head up and stares right into your eyes.
“Oh fuck,” a tall asshole with the deep voice says, raising a pistol in front of him aimed right at Joel’s face.
“I told you,” you say.
Even in the dark Joel can see purple bruising around your left eye and a split in your lip, still oozing wetness. That’s a fresh wound.
“Shut up, whore,” a nasally twat that might weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet barks at you.
Okay, Joel thinks, he’s gonna snap this rude twig in half first for talking to you like that. Did he give you those marks on your face?
“Quit fuckin’ callin’ her that,” the tall one elbows the twig and then pulls you into his grasp.
He watches you break eye contact with him as you wrap your arms around the giant’s middle - seriously, this guy must be nearly seven feet tall - burying your face in the center of his torso. He hears your muffled voice say I told you he’d come for me into his dirty sweatshirt as his free hand moves down your side and squeezes your hip. Change of plans. The big fucker dies first.
The other two people make their way across the room as String Bean grabs a knife off his hip, which Joel recognizes as the knife he put on his own hip when he left the house yesterday morning. He watches this idiot flick it around in front of him like some kind of hillbilly ninja, the knife glinting in the moonlight. It’s pathetic but it’s the only thing keeping him from boring holes into the back of your head as you remain clutched to that big oaf like a goddamn koala bear. He subtly tests the ropes used to tie him to the chair.
The two that join the group are a chubby guy maybe five and half feet tall, and a girl just a bit shorter than him, both of whom look to be teenagers. The tall one tucks the gun into his waistband and they all engage in a terrible exercise of whispering, pointing back and forth. Joel knows he’s half-deaf in one ear but they know they’re talking about him right in front of him, right? From what he can surmise, the two younger ones are a couple, and the girl’s big brother is the tall guy you’re climbing like a tree. He’s not sure how the scrawny one fits into the equation or how you got mixed up in this. Do you know these people?
“So are we gonna get rid of him, or what?” Skinny asks.
“That’s not part of the plan,” you snap, pointing your finger in his face.
Joel watches him slap your finger away and then get pushed by the big guy before all of you devolve into loud whispers again, cursing and hissing. This is getting very old very quickly. He tests the ropes again, flexing his arms and chest against them. He’s tied pretty tight with more than one length of rope. Jesus, what did you tell them, that he was Houdini? The bickering still hasn’t stopped so Joel clears his throat and the noise finally ceases, everyone turning to stare at him. Except you. You won’t meet his eyes. 
Just like old times.
“You ready to get the fuck outta here, baby?” he says, looking right at you.
He watches everyone else’s face swivel to look at you. You tilt your head slightly and meet his eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, asshole,” you twist your last word like a knife into his gut.
He watches Big Guy snake his arms around your middle from behind, drawing you back to his chest. Who the fuck does this jerkoff think he is putting his hands on you? And why don’t you seem to mind? Skinny points at Joel and starts to get mouthy but Big Guy lets you go and drags Skinny and Chubby away from the group and behind Joel, leaving you and the girl alone in front of him. He figures this is as good an opportunity as ever.
“PJ, I’m sorry-”
“Fuckin’ save it, Joel,” you hiss.
“Seriously though, what are we gonna do now?” Girl asks you, side-eyeing him.
“What do you mean? This doesn’t change the plan at all,” you say with confidence.
“You said he’d kill us,” Girl whispers loudly.
He watches your face as you pull her away from him but you don’t look back to meet his eyes. Your face is passive, giving nothing away. You told these people he would kill them? Why would you say that? You’ve never seen him kill anyone. You’ve probably never even heard about the terrible things he’s done. Of course he’s killed people, but so has everyone. He thinks you might have even had to do your fair share to survive. But why would you tell these people he’s a killer?
All three boys come around from behind Joel, Skinny stomping around with a large folded up paper in his hand. He shoves it in Joel’s face and points to it forcefully. 
“Show us where you came from,” Skinny says.
Joel sees the paper is the map of the state of Vermont he’d been traveling with. Luckily nothing on it is marked, so there’s no indication where the Valley might be.
“He’s not gonna-” you start.
“Slut,” Skinny snarls. “You really need to learn when to shut the fuck up.”
“No she’s right,” Joel says, drawing Skinny’s attention back to him. “I’m not gonna tell you shit.”
Skinny opens his mouth to protest but you speak first.
“I told you I know how to get there, we don’t need a map,” you sigh.
“I don’t fuckin’ trust you!” Skinny whines, turning around to throw a mock punch in your face. You wince.
“You need to calm down,” Big Guy hums at his rageful companion, pulling you towards him again and away from Skinny’s reach. “She told us she’d get us there and it’s in her best interest not to fuck us over.”
Joel doesn’t miss the way Big Guy’s hand tightens around your arm when he says it’s in your best interest to cooperate. 
“We been on the road for nearly two fuckin’ weeks and I’m gonna be real fuckin’ pissed if this little whore is jerkin’ us around,” Skinny hisses.
“I’m not,” you say, looking up at Big Guy.
“I hope not, ‘cause we’re really hungry,” Girl says.
“Yeah,” Chubby agrees.
“Both of you shut the fuck up,” Skinny snaps, pointing a crooked finger in the girl’s face. “You ate your weight in pickles this morning. Besides, your fat ass could go another week without food.”
This time Big Guy has had enough. He yanks you to his left by your arm and steps towards Skinny, right arm pulled back and threatening a punch. Skinny jumps back, arms in front protecting his face and starts muttering apologies, saying he was just kidding, avoiding the punch Joel isn’t sure Big Guy even intended to throw. Maybe he’s more bark than he is bite. However, he thinks Skinny is exactly as much bite as he seems to be, no impulse control and a violent streak, and most likely the one who gave you those bruises. Joel can’t wait to kill these idiots and save you from them, then bring you back home where you belong.
“It’s late and it’s been a long day, we all need some rest if we’re gonna make the long trek tomorrow,” Big Guy says.
Joel thinks that it seems like Big Guy is the brains of this little operation, watching as he orders the young couple to sleep on the opposite side of the room where they can guard the doors. He tells Skinny to take first watch of Joel - who he refers to as the old guy - and then mumbles something to you about keeping you close before dragging you back into the kitchen behind Joel’s back.
---
It’s a muffled sound Joel hears at first but he’d know it anywhere, your soft sighs. He never thought when he heard you making those sounds again that he’d be so fucking pissed off. What is that fucker doing to you? He tests the ropes a third time, wishing he could reach into the back of his pants where he keeps a second knife tucked away, a small one clipped to his boxers for emergencies. Emergencies like this. 
Skinny sits in a chair just across from Joel, about five feet away, watching him with a shit-eating grin on his face. If this idiot closes his eyes for a few minutes Joel thinks he can try and go for his knife. He’d be able to cut his bindings and start eliminating these morons one-by-one. But Skinny hasn’t closed his eyes. And you’re behind him with Big Guy right now, making gentle moaning noises. He needs to get free now.
“Ya hear that?” Skinny asks, smiling. Joel doesn’t answer. “He’s gonna dick your girl down real good.” 
Joel feels his face heat, his ears burning while he clenches his teeth to avoid letting go of the growl that wants to escape his throat.
“She told us all about you, ya know?” Skinny sneers.
“Oh, did she?” Joel scoffs.
“She sure did,” He whistles. “She sang quite the song. Said you have the biggest stockpile of shit she’s ever seen, and you have all these fuckin’ people doin’ your bidding.”
Joel tries not to let surprise paint his features. You little shit. You told this jerkoff about the town, about all the food and supplies, about him and his flock? What did he do to you to make you confess all that? It’s fine, he’ll just play dumb, convince him you lied.
“That sounds pretty nice,” Joel muses, nodding his head slowly.
“Yeah, that’s what we thought,” Skinny laughs.
“Almost sounds too good to be true.”
“Does it?”
“Come on kid, it’s been ten years since the fuckin’ world ended,” Joel drawls, a smile on his face. “No one is livin’ like that. We’re all just scrounging for our next meal.”
“Yeah… she said you’d say that.”
“One thing you should know about her?” Joel’s smile disappears. “She’s a lying little bitch.”
“Well she’s certainly a bitch,” Skinny huffs. “...’cept I’m starting to think maybe she ain’t lyin’. She told us you’d follow her, and you did.”
“Oh? What else did she say?”
“She told us you’d have a hidden gun on your ankle, and you did.”
“Interesting,” Joel hums, the reminder that they took all his guns creating a renewed anger at his current situation.
“And she told us you’d lie your ass off to keep us from raiding your shit,” Skinny laughs. “And here you are, tryin’ to lie to me.”
“I thought you didn’t trust her,” Joel mocks.
“I trust you even less, old man.”
Joel settles back in his chair, flexing to test the bindings again as he hears wet noises coming from behind him. He hears a low grunting, what he assumes to be that tall fucker getting off with his fucking woman. He lets the growl rumble in his chest now, hoping it’ll drown out the sounds behind him and quell his murderous rage. Skinny makes a grating noise that could be a laugh. Joel stares at a dark knot in the hardwood floor and imagines wrapping his hands around Skinny’s stick neck.
“Sounds like yer girl isn’t yer girl anymore, don’t it?”
---
12 hours earlier…
You knew that you’d been hiking for over a day, although there was no real way for you to keep time. You left the farm at sunset and now the sun was rising on your second day. You tried to do a lot of your walking at night, pushing aside the childlike notion that the dark was scary while also trying to ignore the very real threat of actual monsters. Scary as it was, you knew that logically, you would at least hear clickers coming. It's more dangerous to be quietly stalked if seen by humans in the daylight. Still, you kept to the trees for most of your trek and even climbed one for a quick nap the first afternoon.
You weren’t sure if anyone was after you but figured there was a pretty good chance Joel would send out a search party once he heard, so keeping a steady pace and stopping as infrequently as possible were your main priorities. You thought you would outsmart him by heading away from the populated areas or outrun him by walking almost non-stop until you hit the ocean. You didn’t risk stealing a map from Hank’s shelves but you stared at it for long enough to memorize the route numbers you’d need to take, even making up a song to fit them into so they’d stick in your mind.
So now you were just next to Highway ninety one, which - according to your rhyming song - takes you south to Lebanon. You spot the sun shining off ripples of water through a brief clearing in the trees and decide to fill your canteen away from the more exposed river, heading to what ends up being a serene lake surrounded by a thick forest. It’s gorgeous here. The sun is shining and keeping you warmer than the crisp spring air would otherwise allow. The landscape glows green, finally coming back to life after a long winter. 
This place reminds you of the lake you’d swam in during the summer camp you went to five years in a row as a child. Grab a swimming buddy, plug your nose, and jump in. God, you were fearless in those days. It's too cold to swim now but you wouldn’t anyways, not all by yourself. You walk the perimeter until you find a dock that will take you far enough away from shore to get some clear water without vegetation mixed in. Not that eating a little grass would kill you, but you’d prefer your water to just be water and not a salad. 
God, you could go for a salad right now. Rosie made the best salads with a homemade vinaigrette that rivaled any dressing you’d had before the world ended. Why were you thinking of that now, of Joel’s house? You shouldn’t be thinking of that. Or of him. Fuck him. You were far away from him now, having finally escaped. You were staring out over the gentle ripples of a beautiful lake on a peaceful morning all alone. Enjoy this moment, you earned it, you tell yourself. You stand up and twist the lid closed on your canteen, stuff it into your pack and turn around. 
Only you’re not alone. 
There is a man at the end of the dock blocking your path. 
Shit.
The fear starts to grip you, its icy tendrils shooting up your limbs and threatening to seize your rapidly beating heart in its grasp. No, you can’t freeze now, you have to keep your wits about you, you have to get yourself out of this situation. Making mental calculations as quickly as you can, you take off running down the old wooden dock, towards the shore, towards him. 
Surprised by your sudden movement, the man takes a couple steps forwards on the dock, planning to take up even more space on your path. A few more steps and you’re within spitting distance from him. You see his arms come out in front of him to grab you. You quickly turn and leap off the dock, landing in the shallow water by the shore several feet away. You use your paltry headstart to your advantage and take off running along the shore.
You turn your head to look back and you see him, stumbling over his own long legs, having tripped and fallen into the shallow water. Relief bubbles up inside you like a percolating kettle, warming your insides and making you feel almost buoyant. You’re still looking backwards which is why you don’t see the six-foot-plus wall of man in front of you. Not until you smash into him and turn your head back, finding that his chest fills your entire field of vision. The pungent smell of his body odor stings your nose, nausea washing over you.
He twists you around so your back is to his chest and two anaconda arms wrap around your torso, squeezing you so tight you can barely breathe. You see the other man coming closer, soaking wet but laughing his fuckin’ head off, a mouth half-full of crooked, rotting teeth. He’s more of a boy than a man, now that you can see him closer. Probably early 20’s and around six feet tall. With his clothes soaking wet you can see how skinny he is, hardly any meat on his lanky frame. A nasal twang comes out of his voice between sputters and chuckles.
“You- You thought you were real slick back there, didn’t ya, bitch?”
“She gave you the fuckin’ slip, Roy,” a deep voice huffs above your head. “She woulda gotten away if I wasn’t here.”
“Whatever,” Roy mutters. “Shut up.”
---
You were practically carried around the lake until you arrived at an old summer camp, a worn wooden sign calling “Aloha” to its campers. Pulled inside a small white building, you’re tied to a chair by Roy - still dripping wet - in what looks like a space once used for arts and crafts. You see the really tall smelly guy and two shorter kids - one boy and one girl - going through your backpack, pulling out the food you’d stolen from the Mansfield’s root cellar. They’ve already eaten half of a jar of pickles by the time the ropes are secured around you tightly.
Roy strips off his wet coat and joins the group, prying open a container of applesauce and greedily drinking it straight from the mouth of the jar. You hear the girl offer the tall guy a wrapped up parcel and she calls him Mike. You watch Mike open your package of homemade smoked jerky that you were saving for later on your trip and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head. He looks over at you, catching you watching them, and holds it up above everyone’s heads.
“Where’d you get this?” he asks.
“I found it,” you whisper, your voice hoarse due to your too-tight restraints.
You don’t even have time to process the fist that Roy throws at your face until after it lands. You feel his knuckles hit the edge of your left orbital bone and slide into your eyeball, sharp pain shooting around your skull and straight back through your eye. You cry out and tears spring to your eyes, pouring even harder out of your left eye, which you can’t open. Your chest tries to heave with sobs as you hiccup, struggling to take deep breaths against the bindings. You hear Roy’s piercing voice over you.
“...so stop lying if you don’t want another one,” he finishes, flecks of applesauce flying out of his mouth to hit your face.
“I- I ca-, I can’t-,” you feel a tightness in your chest and you worry you’re going to start panicking, the blinding pain and the reality of your current situation hitting you simultaneously. This is bad. You’re sputtering. “I c- can’t b- b- breathe.”
Roy completely ignores your tears and your pleading, tipping the applesauce jar to his face and drinking down more of it. 
Pain spreads across your chest like a white hot heat, quickly becoming all you can think about, even pushing the throbbing in your eye to the back of your mind. You continue to gasp and choke, breathlessly begging anyone who’ll listen, but unable to focus on any faces. It feels like your body is being crushed, like you’ve been buried alive, every breath you can’t take in fully is another bucket of dirt thrown on top of you. The bindings across your chest seem to get tighter and tighter, the ringing in your ears growing louder.
Finally relief is delivered when you realize the young girl is at your side, her hand on your shoulder and a knife in her hand. The pressure is gone. She’s cut the ropes away from you, leaving you to take the deep lungfuls of the air you need to calm yourself down.
She pats your shoulder to reassure you before Roy - realizing what she’s done - drops the jar of applesauce to the floor. Ignoring the shatter of the glass jar and the splatter of the rest of the applesauce all over the floor, Roy grabs her by her hair, causing her to yelp in pain. He begins to scream in her face, calling her every name in the book before a massive hand is pushing a pistol into his temple. The tall guy, Mike, shoves the gun so forcefully into Roy’s head that it pushes him to the side, away from the girl. He lets go of her and stumbles back a few feet.
“Don’t you ever put your hands on my fucking sister,” Mike says.
Sister? This is good. This is very good. If Mike is willing to protect his sister from Roy then he could be willing to protect you too. You watch the girl run to the third young man’s arms, his face still covered in baby fat. You watch as he kisses her cheeks, petting her hair and telling her everything is okay as tears spring from her eyes. Once Roy has calmed down Mike lowers the gun, uncocking the hammer, and looks to you. He raises his other hand, still holding the package of jerky.
“Where’d you get this?” he asks again.
You look around, surveying the faces of his companions, each of them looking at you expectantly. They look weary. They look hungry. Looking in Mike’s eyes last, you see his deep blue eyes under heavy lids looking at you. They look like kind eyes. His floppy haircut curls up at his ears, giving him a youthful appearance but you’d guess his age was close to thirty. He seems quiet. He seems safe. You hope you’re not fucking wrong about this one.
“I can take you there,” you squeak, sounding as meek as possible. “There’s a lot more where that came from. They’d let us stay as long as we wanted. We’d be safe there, well fed... I can help you.”
“He asked you where, cunt” Roy snaps as he moves forward, his rage restored.
“I know how to get there, it’s a day’s hike away from here. I can take-”
You feel a whoosh of air right before the crack of his bony palm hits your face. Unrestrained, you fly off the chair and land crumpled on the floor, barely catching yourself. Roy has slapped you. God, it fucking hurts. Roy steps up to you and bends over your folded frame, shouting obscenities down at you before he’s elbowed out of the way by Mike. He must have put down the jerky because he reaches out to you with both hands, practically picking you up off the floor like a child. Instinctively you grab onto his arms and once on your feet, wrap yourself around him, drawing your face into his chest. 
Ignoring the pungent smell wafting off him, you lick at the wetness on your face, salty tears and metallic blood. Blood? Fuck, your lip is throbbing. You touch your tongue to your lip and the source seems to be a split in your bottom lip. That fucker has hit you twice now. You wish he’d fucking choked on that applesauce he guzzled down like he owned it. You cling to Mike even after you’ve calmed down, raising your eyes to meet his, hoping your gamble pays off.
“If you help me, Mike, I can help you,” you whisper - just loud enough so only he can hear you.
His ocean eyes scan your face, no doubt looking for hints of deception. It’s hard to trust others in this world, you know that better than anyone. He looks for long enough that you hear Roy call out ‘what’s she sayin’?’ over his shoulder. He looks back at Roy, then over to his sister, and then back at you. He nods his head.
🖤
NEXT
I miss you Iris 💐 Thank you for helping with this series. Thank you so much to my bestie Bug for helping me edit this. ILYSM.
🚨GOING FORWARD I WILL NOT BE USING TAG LISTS - THEY DON'T EVEN WORK HALF THE TIME. PLEASE FOLLOW AND TURN ON NOTIFS FOR @nox-notifs AS I WILL POST *FIC UPDATES ONLY* THERE.🚨
TAGLIST (lmk if you wanna be added or removed) @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @covetyou @iamasaddie @sr-lrn @clawdee @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @merz-8 @speckledemerald @alltheseperfectimperfections @survivingandenduring @afraidtofear @millennial-teenybopper @missladym1981 @xdaddysprincessxx @lumoverheaven @ghoulettesinspace @brittmb115 @wintersquirrel @obscurexsorrows @littlevenicebitch69 @lulawantmula @pedroswife69 @joeldjarin @heimtathurss @untamedheart81 @pixielou5 @feel1n-h1gh @elegantduckturtle @koshkaj-blog @vickie5446 @lilipads @blvckmvgicwoman
99 notes · View notes
bravo4iscool · 3 days
Text
the following thing is inspired by how i grew up as a russian-german mennonite and what is still expected from me as a woman but i thought it would be nice to see how (i think) simon would react if his girlfriend would’ve grown up like that lol
(masterlist | join my tag list!)
tag list - @yazt09 @blackhawkfanatic @bumblebeesfromvenus
REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!
Tumblr media
“i date to marry.”
that’s what you told simon when your dates started to become more frequent and he asked you to be his girlfriend.
“i do too.”
he had said and you let out a relieved sigh at that. but then he asked you to move in with him after a few months and you hesitated. that wasn’t how you were raised…
“it’s to keep you safe,” he explained and after struggling with what you thought was right and what you wanted to do, you agreed to move in with him. of course your parents didn’t approve but you were an adult, already out of the house. you shouldn’t care if they’d approve or not.
now, you were standing in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes. your limbs were aching and your eyes were burning from your lack of sleep. you had another tiring and exhausting shift at the hospital and everything you wanted to do was to drop dead into bed but you had a household to run.
besides, simon would be back in an hour and you still had to cook dinner. and then the laundry… that also needed to be done. also, you had to tell simon about the broken sink in the bath, hoping he would be able to fix it on time.
-
“hey luv,” you hear simon entering the apartment and you place down the wooden spoon. you wipe the hair out of your face and smooth down your shirt.
then you leave the kitchen to greet your boyfriend. “hey si,” you give him a tired smile as you get on your tippy toes to give him a short kiss. “how was work?”
he only grimaces and pulls you close to him. “how was your work?” he asks in return and you let out a deep sigh.
“stressy. but i don’t want to talk about me,” you break the hug up. “dinner’s ready in a few,” you tell him while you walk back to the kitchen.
simon follows you with a frown. “maybe we should order takeout?” he suggests but you shake your head.
“no, no, it’s fine.” you wave it off. “you deserve some good food. not some takeout crap.” you start to stir the gravy again with a heavy hand. “and it’s as good as done. let me just set the table.”
you turn the heat down and want to turn to get the plates but simon stops you. he puts his hands gently on your waist and stills you. “take a deep breath luv,” he tells you. “let me help you.”
you shake your head. “i’ll do it, you don’t have to help!”
he keeps his hands on your waist. “but i want to.” the look in his eyes leaves no room to argue and you lower your head.
“but it’s my job… you shouldn’t be bothered by cooking and…cleaning,” you explain in a quiet voice and simon puts his hand on your chin to make you look at him.
he places a gentle kiss on your forehead and pulls you into a hug again. “in this household we help each other luv. you never need to do something like that on your own. you understand?”
you don’t say anything for a few seconds before you hesitatingly nod. you didn’t need to do anything on your own. that’s what he said…
98 notes · View notes
in1-nutshell · 2 days
Note
Hello and how are you? I'm glad that we can request again but also hope you are doing well
So for my request. This is probably my first time, requesting Beast Wars, so been enjoying reading the Beast Wars, especially the 'Finding an Abandoned Sparkling' and it got me thinking of this request
Can you do Blackarachnia become a Mom to a sparkling?
Blackarachnia would take a lot of time to warm up to the kid. Also, this can take place before Blackarachnia joins the Maximal. I also imagine that the sparkling would take a lot of time warming up to Silverbolt because the baby thinks he's taking blackarachnia's time and/or love
Ty and take care!
The sparklings are back!
Hope you enjoy!
Blackarachnia with an abandoned sparkling
SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronian reader
BW
The sparkling’s alt mode is a gecko.
The Predacon’s had recently acquired something new from their latest patrol.
Something Blackarachnia didn’t know about, something she needed to know about.
She thought that it was some sort of relic or more news about the Golden discs.
She was not expecting a sparkling, with a reptilian alt mode, nonetheless.
Why couldn't they be a spider?
The sparkling looks all around its new surroundings but stops seeing Blackarachnia.
They squeal and transform out of Inferno’s servos and waddles up to the spider and attempt to give her a hug.
“Beat it kid. I don’t do hugs.”--Blackarachnia
Blackarachnia pushes them away only to find them stuck on her servo.
“What in the Allspark!? Get off of me!”--Blackarachnia
Megatron smirks at this interaction.
“Thank you Blackarachnia for volunteering to take care of the newest recruit of the Predacon cause, yes.”--Megatron
“What?!”--Blackarachnia
“Why not? Look how attached they are already. Yes, you’ll do.”--Megatron
Megatron walks away before Blackarachnia can say anything else.
The sparkling happily swinging from her outstretched servo.
Blackarachnia thought this was a terrible idea.
She hates kids!
Yet the little fella was literally stuck to her side.
Curse those digits.
She did learn to live with the smaller shadow following her every move.
It was tolerable…
Despite openly saying she despised having the little one with her, Blackarachnia refused to have most Predacon’s babysit them.
Tarantulas and Megatron are at the top of her ‘Do not leave them alone at all cost’ list.
Blackarachnia kneeling in front of the sparkling.
“Okay kid, you’ll hold down the fort until I come back, okay?”--Blackarachnia
The sparkling hums in agreement.
Blackarachnia stands up and looks at Waspinator.
“Anything happens to them, there won’t be a CR Chamber that could put you back together. Am I clear?”--Blackarachnia
Waspinator gulps and nods in agreement.
The sparkling waddles up to Waspinator wanting upsies, which Waspinator happily complies.
The spider watches the two go back inside the ship.
Quickstrike walks up to her.
“Aw! C’mon Sugarbot! Why can’t I take care of the kiddo? You know you’ll need a strong and handsome mech to watch over them…”--Quickstrike
“Well Cowboy, in case you forgot, your also on patrol.”--Blackarachnia
“Oh yeah…”--Quickstrike
Blackarachnia had a small habit of doing some things without thinking about the consequences. Not with a lot of things, but some things.
For example, she didn’t think that playfully flirting with Silverbolt would mean anything in the future.
Yet, she had risked her life again and again for him.
Joining the Maximals on the spot was also something she had done on the spot.
Blackarachnia didn’t think much about it until after the battle reality had hit her harder than a missile or blast to the chassis.
Buddy, her sparkling, was still at the base.
She hadn’t told the Maximals this, mainly because her position in their ranks was already rocky as it is.
She didn’t want to know what could happen if she brought Buddy.
Everyone noticed in the next few days how tense Blackarachnia had become.
Like… she was worried about something… or someone…
It took a bit, but Blackarachnia finally relented and told the team about Buddy.
“Woah, woah, woah! You’re saying that you have a sparkling—”--Rattrap
“It’s technically not mine—”--Blackarachnia
“A sparkling in the Preds base.”--Cheetor
“Why didn’t you bring them with you?”--Rhinox
“It was kind of hard with space time was literally falling apart!... By the time I realized that they would be alone at the base we weren’t on the best terms…”--Blackarachnia
Silverbolt taking her servo.
“We’ll get your sparkling my love.”--Silverbolt
“What…?”--Blackarachnia
“You heard me, that sparkling could be in trouble and we could be their only hope! Who’s with me!”--Silverbolt
All the Maximals agree with the statement.
“All right then, we need to—”--Optimus
RING!
RING!
RING!
“That’s the proximity alarm!”--Rhinox
“Everyone to your stations!”--Optimus
Everyone gets to their stations while Rhinox and Optimus go to see who was there.
“Its Waspinator… and he’s holding something…”--Rhinox
Blackarachnia , Silverbolt and Optimus go out to confront Waspinator and…
“Buddy!”--Blackarachnia
The sparkling chirps seeing their Mama and detaches from Waspinator and waddles up to her hugging her pedes.
She kneels down and holds the sparkling close to her, for once, not minding the sticky digits on her frame.
“Wazzpinator take Gecko bot from Megatron. Wazzpinator don’t want to be Predacon.”--Waspinator
“You don’t want to be a Predacon?”--Optimus
“And how are we supposed to believe that?”--Blackarachnia
“Megatron don’t know Wazzpinator here… Megatron wanted Gecko bot to go to Tarantulas… Wazzpinator no trust Tarantulas.”--Waspinator
Blackarachnia tightens her grip on the sparkling a bit hearing her old lab partner’s name.
“… I say let’s give him a chance to prove himself.”--Blackarachnia
Silverbolt and Optimus look at Blackarachnia.
“Are you sure?”--Silverbolt
“Positive.”--Blackarachnia
Silverbolt tries to pet Buddy on the helm.
Buddy gives him a stink eye and hugs Blackarachnia harder.
“Looks like you got some competition Bolt.”--Blackarachnia
Silverbolt laughs at this fully confident he would worm his way into the sparkling’s spark faster than Blackarachnia.
Jokes on him, it takes longer to get the protective sparkling on their good side.
It’s up to Blackarachnia and Waspinator to get the two to bond.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
44 notes · View notes
sitp-recs · 2 days
Note
Hello! Not sure if you'll respond but I thought I'd ask about it anyway.
Would you happen to know of any fics with a very complex characterization of Draco and Harry with a bit of gut wrenching situations? Preferably older D&H after the war. I'm even open to tragedy, even cheating(?) and just something that is out of the ordinary. I know I'm shit at explaining this but, I'm just like, craving a fic that has adult problems, where one/both of them are at a moment of life where things are complex. Maybe H left D a while ago and married someone else, and then after a few years he sees him again and is just lost in a haze of "what if I hadn’t?" or "what to do with myself now?" because getting back with him isn’t easy? I'm sorry for this weird messy ask but you are the first person who came to my mind who I thought could help me out? Sorry for rambling so much! It's definitely alright if you can't find anything like this of course! Have a great day!
What an interesting ask, anon! I’m a bit picky with gut-wrenching themes but I do love myself a thought-provoking, mature fic. It’s about the implications and complications amirite 🤌🏼 this list is a personal take so I’m not sure it is what you’re looking for, but here are some fics that came to mind when I read your ask. Pls mind the tags before jumping in. I’d be very curious to see what my followers rec too!
Kissed by Pie (M, 12k)
Draco Malfoy was attacked by a rogue Dementor on the night of his Azkaban release. He self-exiled to Muggle London and opened a late-night chocolate shop called Kissed.
Poor Unfortunate Souls by DoubleApple (E, 19k)
Draco is a potioneer. Harry is trying to save his sex-challenged marriage. Everything is a mess, but at least there's an octopus in the lobby.
Unfinished Business by cupiscent (E, 20k)
Ten years after the War ends, Harry and Draco still haven't got their act together. But maybe it's not too late.
Stain of Silence by brummell (E, 28k)
After the war, Draco serves out his sentence in Harry Potter's house.
He Who Must Not Be Normal by lettered (E, 41k)
Potter has fame and fortune and posh clothes and all he wants is a simple life. Draco has a flat and a cat and a steady job and all he wants is a complicated life. Which makes you think this story has something exciting like body-swapping, but it doesn’t.
On One's Knees by pir8fancier (E, 34k)
The war is over and to the victors go the spoils. If you are triggered by infidelity, this is not the fic for you.
REVOLVEVLOVER by firethesound, zeitgeistic (E, 46k)
The work Harry does is justifiable. It’s justice. He works for his country, and his country is a republic—the magical side, anyway. It’s not laudable work, it’s not work he’s proud of, but it’s necessary work. Harry has always taken the necessary jobs that no one else has the stomach for. It’s just that he’s never deciphered a kill sheet and seen Draco Malfoy’s name on it.
Nightingale by michi_thekiller (NC-17, 60k)
God loved the birds and invented trees. Man loved the birds and invented cages. -Jacques Deval
Super Rich Kids by trishjames (E, 81k)
Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite. Enter: one existential crisis, one group of thieving cynical friends, and several terrible, terrible decisions.
Merlin Works in Mysterious Ways by lordhellebore (M, 82k)
When Harry is forced to form a Blood Bond with Draco Malfoy under threat of death, he thinks his future will consist of a cold home and sexual frustration. But when a group of left-over Death Eaters decides to stir trouble, their lives change completely – and it takes them both some years to figure out whether it’s for better or for worse.
Danse Russe by Frayach (E, 140k)
True Love. Soul Mates. They're just words until put to the test. Harry and Draco have a bond that was forged in the hell of the post-war years and pulled them both back from an abyss of nihilism and self-destruction. Nothing can break it, or so they believed. But True Love can demand sacrifices too great to bear and deeds too terrible to justify.
Plus 2 fics I haven’t read but can vouch for the authors as I’m very familiar with their work:
Unhook the Stars by jad (E, 70k)
Seventy-thousand words of pornographic discourse between two boys-turned-men that still haven't learned how to communicate like normal people – with words.
Freedom to be by Quicksilvermaid (E, 170k)
Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived. 12 years after the war, he's become the Boy Who Lived For Everyone Else. He has the perfect wife. The perfect house. The perfect job. The perfect friends. Only nothing feels perfect.
43 notes · View notes
sleekervae · 3 days
Text
The Bride [0.3]
Tumblr media
Masterlist
Pairing: billy the kid x fem!reader
Summary: Eleanor Gets Fired
Warnings: foul language, violence on animals, black eye, mentions of murder
Word Count: 4,452
Tag List: @poppyflower-22 @ponyslayer
Tumblr media
"Kid Antrim Escapes Silver City Jail"
"Jail Guard Loses Armed Robber"
"Armed Robber, Billy Antrim, In the Wind"
The headlines were splashed across the newspaper the next day, with chatter and gossip taking Silver City by storm. People were baffled, curious, and terrified with that they'd read; a "dangerous man" was on the loose, who wouldn't be terrified? When Eleanor read that headline, she said a silent prayer that Billy wouldn't return to Silver City.
Life continued on for her. She's work days the ranch and nights at the saloon, keeping her head down and working hard to scrape up as much money as she could. Jesse would still come around for information on Billy Matthews' cattle, they didn't talk about Billy. No matter how much Eleanor wanted to ask if he'd heard anything, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction to comfort her. Sure, she was indebted to him, but she still didn't trust him.
It was a regular Wednesday morning on the Matthews ranch. The cowboys were herding and taking care of the livestock, bringing eggs and milk to Eleanor in the kitchen as she whipped up lunch for everybody. The sun was pouring in from the open window, the heat just bordering bearable between the oven and the stove, and Eleanor continued to knead her bread dough in silence. Jesse and his gang wanted a new map for the cattle, and she had to wait until Matthews was far from his office before she could snoop around.
"Miss Aubert?" she looked up at the call of her surname. One of the ranch hands were standing in the doorway, sweat-stained with callous hands folded, "Mr. Matthews wants a word with you,"
Eleanor cocked her head, curiosity and apprehension forming in her gut. Matthews had never called for her before.
"I'm in the middle of making his lunch," she said matter-of-factly.
"He said he wants you on the porch. Now," the ranch hand shrugged back, "He don't sound too happy,"
In the back of her mind, Eleanor had a feeling what was about to happen. So, she wiped her hands free of dough, cleaned up her station, and followed the ranch hand outside. Matthews was sitting in his usual porch chair, watching the rest of his cowboys rustle up and saddle his horses and cows. Matthews was an old man, but intimidating all the same with his dark, heavy under eyes, stiff upper lip, and a cigar clenched between his fingers.
Eleanor approached him cautiously, putting on a friendly smile, "You wanted to see me, Mr. Matthews?"
Matthews glanced up at her, his stiff glare softening into a smile of his own, "Yes. Yes I did, Miss Aubert,"
"Eleanor is just fine, sir,"
"Right," he put his cigar between his teeth, turning his gaze back to his ranch, "You see the mare over there, Eleanor?" he pointed out to the fencing. Eleanor looked out, and sure enough there was a mare amongst the other horses, just a bit smaller than the others, but majestic and strong nevertheless.
"Yes, sir,"
"I bought that mare last spring, she was supposed to mate with my horses, give me some babies to raise, make my stock stronger," he drawled, "I just found out last week that this particular is barren. She's no good. Just another dumb fucking animal on a farm,"
Eleanor nodded, confused as to where he was taking this, but she stayed empathetic, "That's terrible," she muttered.
"Yeah, yeah it is," Matthews nodded, "But that's life, you get disappointed. And when you get disappointed, you can either do something about it, or sit there and continue to be a doormat," he ten turned to her, "So now... I have to put that mare down,"
Eleanor glanced at him in disbelief, "Sir... she's a perfectly good horse, isn't she?" she asked.
"Well, yes. But she's not doing what I needed her to do. And therefore, I have no use for her," he kept his gaze fixed on Eleanor, whatever friendly demeanour he had at the beginning was quickly melting away into something more sinister, "Just like I have no use for you,"
Eleanor swallowed back the growing lump in her throat, "I beg your pardon?"
"I know what you've been up to. You think you're pretty damn smart, don't 'cha'? Hm?" his lips pressed together in a thin line, his greying eyes darkening, "What were you doing in my office the other day? Don't deny it, you were seen,"
Eleanor shook her head, trying to grasp at threads, "I'm sorry Mr. Matthews, I don't know what you're talking about,"
Matthews' grin returned, he glanced back at the cowboys who were none the wiser, "You don't know what I'm talking about..."
Eleanor stood stiff as a board, waiting, anticipating just what he'd say next. However, she didn't anticipate he'd shoot up from his seat and back hand her across her face, her hard brass of his ring indenting just under her eye.
Eleanor stumbled and fell backwards, her butt landing hard on the porch wood. Matthews stood over her, seething with rage.
"You don't know what the fuck I'm talking about!?" he screamed, hands fisted tight, veins bulging in his forehead and his face going red. The commotion grabbed the attention of the cowboys.
Eleanor turned back over, the sting from his knuckle nothing compared to the fear swelling in her chest. He continued to shout down at her, his teeth gnashing and spit flying.
"You think I haven't noticed how my cattle have disappeared since I dun' hired you? You think you're smarter than me, don't you? I've got more thoughts in my little finger then you do in your whole body!" he held up his hand and Eleanor feared her may hit her again, "Say something!"
"I'm sorry!" Eleanor shouted back, though she knew no apologies would soften him none, "I'm very sorry!"
Matthews scoffed, lowering his hand and relaxing his shoulders, "You sorry you let rustlers steal my herd? Or are you sorry you got caught?" his hand then went to his belt holster, and a renewed sense of fear filled her. He wouldn't actually shoot her in front of all these people... would he?
"Benjamin!" he suddenly roared, "Bring me that dull mare!" no, she feared he was going to do something much worse.
Eleanor watched, her heart in her throat as Benjamin lassoed the mare and lead her over to the porch. She was absolutely beautiful, dappled grey with big, soulful eyes and a pristine white face. She met Eleanor's gaze, and from how she shifted from hoof to hoof, it was clear she could sense the rising tension, the fear in the air.
Matthews pulled out his gun and cocked it, checking the barrel for his ammunition.
"Mr. Matthews... please, don't do it," Eleanor begged, tears beginning to well in her eyes.
Matthews hummed to himself, looking back down at the young girl, "You know what I do to people who betray me, Miss Aubert?" he asked.
Eleanor didn't even have time to close her eyes before he raised his gun, and with perfect precision he shot the mare between her eyes. Eleanor couldn't even scream, couldn't bare to look at the blood that splattered on the porch wood, nor the frozen stare on Benjamin's face as the mare fell to the ground, dead.
Matthews stood unfazed, watching Eleanor pitifully. His gun stayed clasped tightly in his hand, "Now you have a choice, young lady," he grumbled, "Either you can get the fuck off my property and I won't call the sheriff, or you can be next, and your body will be weighed down in the lake,"
Eleanor had to compose herself. On shaky legs, she pushed herself back to her feet, stumbling a few times as she walked off the porch. She looked back only at the poor horse, her heart breaking all over again at the sight of the lifeless mare. Taking a deep breath, she turned her back on the scene and started walking, each step feeling heavier than the last.
The air was eerily silent now, the brutal act hanging in the air like a suffocating fog. Matthews stood behind her, unfazed, his gun still in hand. Eleanor walked fast, fearing he may have second thoughts about using that gun on her. And fuck -- her eye hurt really bad.
She didn't know what she would say to Jesse, could just imagine how pissed off he would be when he'd learn she'd been fired. Maybe he wouldn't have any use for her, maybe he'd kick her out to fend for herself. As much of a bitch she knew he was, Eleanor knew that she still needed Jesse as much as he needed her.
Tumblr media
While Eleanor grappled with her own struggles, Billy was trying to start anew. He had no family, no friends to rely on—just a horse he’d stolen, some meager provisions, and the hope that strangers might show him some kindness. But those strangers often proved to be more detrimental than helpful.
Billy fell in with a career felon and con man. Sure, the man helped him get an honest job as a rancher, but trusting him only led to more trouble. Billy lost his job when the felon fatally shot the rancher. Then, accused of stealing horses by a blacksmith (which, to be fair, he did, but no one else needed to know), Billy found himself in deeper trouble. In the chaos, he fatally shot the blacksmith.
Billy had never killed anyone before, never thought he’d have the guts. The closest he came was with his own stepfather, but that was different—he only wanted to scare him. The gun just… went off. Now, as he sat by a dwindling fire, the weight of his actions pressed down on him. He was in too deep, too far gone to find an easy way out. The life he’d hoped to build seemed more distant with each passing day, leaving him to wonder if he’d ever escape the shadows of his past.
He knew what his mother would say. As much as he wanted to forget it all and move on, he was still a good person. And as a good person, he knew he had to do the right thing.
He showed up in the aforementioned town, ready to face the court and plead his case for self-defense. But just like in Silver City, he quickly learned that the court system here wasn't interested in his side of the story, in how he tried to save himself. The wanted posters with his face plastered all over them certainly didn’t help his case.
But if there was one good thing Billy had going for him, it was his charm, and his brain. And sure enough he was able to escape jail again, disappearing just like before.
He was without a horse, having him and his belongings stolen by the Apache. So Billy was left to wander the frontier, a ghost, a nobody that one would blink and miss in the distance. He missed his old life, his mom, his brother, the friends he'd made and had to leave behind. He wondered if those friends thought about him, if Jesse or Eleanor cared to think about him.
Eleanor, so headstrong, sharp-tongued, beautiful in every way, shape, and form. She was a constant presence in his mind as he wandered the vast terrain. The heat and dehydration often played tricks on him—he’d see her in the weeds, in the wind, thought he caught her oaky hair fluttering in the breeze, could hear the lilt of her accent echoing in his ears. He missed her, missed her more than he could comprehend. He swore if he found his way out of this desert, he'd go out and find her, swore to himself he'd take good care of her. Better than any care Jesse could offer.
Billy’s exhaustion finally overtook him, and he collapsed onto the dry, cracked earth. The world blurred around him as his consciousness flickered. He drifted in and out, each time catching glimpses of rough hands lifting him, concerned eyes peering down over bandanas. He felt the cool touch of water on his parched lips, the gentle jostle of being hoisted onto a horse. Between bouts of darkness, he heard snippets of a soothing voice, the soft drawl of reassurance, promising that he was safe. As he slipped back into unconsciousness, Billy clung to the faint hope that rescue had come at last.
He dreamed a lot—or at least he thought so. He couldn't distinguish between dreams and memories: his mother's suffering, Carlos' murder, arrest after arrest, all swirling together. Amidst the chaos, there was a distant voice calling for him, so kind, so familiar, drawing him up under an ocean of limbo.
"Billy? Billy, can you hear me?" he could feel a blanket on him, a pillow under his head, his lungs begging for water.
"What?" and when he cracked his eyes open he was blinded by sunlight, only relieved by Eleanor's concerned face.
He thought he was still dreaming, but as he looked around, his vision hazy and his head pounding, he saw he wasn't in the desert anymore. He was in a bed, a water pitcher on the table next to him, and Eleanor standing over him.
"Oh, thank God," he heard her sigh, "You had me worried something terrible for a spell," her voice was a tone just above a whisper, her choppy bangs hanging over her eyes, Billy could swear one was a darker color than the other. Or maybe his eyes were still just playing tricks on him.
"E-Eleanor," he coughed and sputtered, his chest burning with every jolt. Eleanor moved fast to pour him some water, cradling his head so he could sit up.
"It's alright, drink," he brought the glass to his lips and he drank gratefully. The cool water filled his mouth, overwhelmed his throat, it was a sweet and crisp relief.
He breathed heavily as he settled back in bed, his lips felt dry and crackled, he felt dusty and dirty all over, but he had so many questions.
"Where am I?" he gasped, "How did I get here? Why are you here?"
"You're in New Mexico, the boys found you out in the desert. I'm gonna' get you better, though," she took a cloth and dabbed the sweat from his forehead, hoping her face didn't give way to how scared she was for him. He looked so weak, like he'd blow away in grains of sand at the slightest gust of wind.
Billy had so many questions, but despite them all his eyes felt heavy, his body felt limp. He could barely string out enough words.
"Eleanor... I'm tired," he mumbled.
A small smile graced her lips, "Then sleep," she told him, "Just holler for anything,"
She watched his eyes fall closed, readjusting under the blanket and falling back asleep. Relief flooded over her, there was a period where she feared he was too far gone to be alive. God only knew how long he'd been out in the elements, anything could have happened to him out there.
Tumblr media
Billy had slept more in the last two days than he had in months, and when he wasn't sleeping Eleanor took care of him. He was grateful to her, a part of him still thought he might have been dreaming but she was really here, giving him water, making him food, keeping him company when he was conscious enough to make some conversation. He still had so many questions, one in particular was how Eleanor wound up with a black eye.
It was the first day Billy felt strong enough to get out of bed and walk around. He sat on the back porch, a blanket over his shoulders and a warm mug of tea in his hands, looking out to the vast farmland before him. Eleanor came out to join him, her hair pulled up in a ponytail and flour stains on her trousers. Her wound was fading too, but she still didn't feel comfortable enough going out in public like this lest someone ask her questions.
"So, this is Lincoln County," Billy said, watching her from the corner of his eye. She was leaning against the post, arms folded over her chest and looking out.
"Yep, home sweet home," she replied.
"And this is where you've been living outside the hotel?" he asked.
"Pretty much," she turned to face him, "It don't belong to anybody, we just found it abandoned. Figured -- why not?"
"... And 'we' would be... Jesse?" he asked.
"And the Seven Rivers Gang," Eleanor confirmed, throwing her hands to her sides, "Welcome to our secret lair,"
Billy nodded, "Thank you," he simpered, "I don't remember much. The trail, the coyotes, then my horse got stolen,"
Eleanor pulled up a chair beside him, "When the boys found you, you were laid out and left to die. Scavengers would'a been on you by night, prolly'. Jesse brung ya' here, and I swear I thought you were dead for sure," she explained, "You been busy, though,"
"How do you mean?" he asked.
"There are wanted posters for ya all over the state," she replied, "They don't do you justice, in my opinion,"
"Oh, why thank you," he said.
"There's something different about you, though," she noted, cocking her head at him, "You look... stressed. And not just from the sun. Something happened while you were gone, didn't it?"
Billy inhaled deeply, a pit of dismay forming in his gut. He wasn’t sure how Eleanor would react, if she’d ever look at him the same way after he told her about the blacksmith. But she was all he had right now. Surely, if she knew the whole story, she would understand.
"I killed a man, Eleanor," he admitted, taking his gaze away from her, "I didn't mean to, it just kinda... happened,"
Eleanor was waiting for a punch line, thinking that maybe he was just pulling her leg. But no, his worn expression, the lowering pitch in his tone, he had been through a lot in the months he'd been gone. Despite his guilt and sorrow, Eleanor knew Billy. She knew he wasn't a murderer.
"Did he have it coming?" she asked.
Billy shrugged listlessly, "He wouldn't leave me alone. Attacked me in front of everybody. He got my gun, we wrestled for it, but... I didn't want him to die,"
Eleanor nodded slowly. She reached out, gently touching him on his shoulder, "That sounds like self-defence to me. Was it?"
"Of course it was,"
"Then don't beat yourself up over it. Good people do bad things Billy, but that don't mean they're bad," she told him, "We all gotta' do what we gotta' do,"
Billy nodded, and while he was still remorseful, he was grateful that Eleanor didn't judge him. He was grateful for her all around.
"Suppose you're right," he mumbled, he then raised his finger up to his eye, "What happened here?"
She simpered sheepishly, pulling some of her hair over the left side of her face, trying to hide the yellowy-purple bruise, "Oh. Well, long story short is I no longer work for Matthews," she replied.
Billy's concern grew, "Did Jesse do that?" he asked.
"No. Matthews. He found out I was selling out his cattle, aaaaand... he didn't like that. Just to drive the point home, he killed a horse in front of me. A barren mare. I swore for a moment he was gonna' do me in the same," she explained, keeping her eyes averted to the wooden planks beneath them.
"Jesus," Billy sat up in his chair, taking a better look at her face. The bruise was a couple weeks healed up, the indent of Matthews' ring was still present on her cheek bone. He couldn't help but reach over and stroke the bruise, her skin so soft and smooth under his calloused thumb, "How'd Jesse take it?"
"He was angry that Matthews hit me more than anything," she replied, "We agreed I should stay here for a while until we pick up again, better to keep out of town,"
Billy's heart broke for her. Eleanor had always been the fiercest, most resilient person he knew. She worked too damn hard to be thanked with a black eye, to end up in an old, decrepit house in the middle of nowhere. Anger surged through him, mixing with his sadness, as he thought of Billy Matthews laying a hand on her. She deserved so much more—more than this desolate existence, more than the pain and struggle she faced every day.
He shook his head, "Swear to God, if I ever see that man --"
"You're not gonna' do shit," she told him, "Not until you're healed at least," her lips pulled up in a smirk, that same mischievous, sharp smirk Eleanor had that accentuated her personality. It was a small gesture, but it made Billy feel a little better.
Billy too began to smile, "I missed you, ya know?"
Eleanor relaxed in her seat, her smile growing, "I missed you, too. I'm... I'm really glad to see you,"
Billy knew it would be a while before he was back to a hundred percent. His lips were still cracked, and his throat felt raw. He realized he'd be spending quite some time here, recovering. The only question at the forefront of his mind was how long he'd have Eleanor all to himself during this stretch of time.
"How long as the boys gone for?" he asked.
"About a week," she replied, "You're stuck with me until then,"
Tumblr media
Eleanor and Billy fell into an easy rhythm over the next few days, their interactions flowing with a natural comfort that belied the short time they'd known each other. Despite Eleanor's insistence that he should take it easy, Billy, still on the mend from his bout of heatstroke, was eager to lend a hand around the farm.
One morning, Eleanor found Billy in the kitchen, fumbling with a frying pan and a carton of eggs. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and she couldn't help but laugh at his earnestness. His limited culinary skills were evident, but there was something undeniably charming about his determination. As they cooked breakfast together, their laughter filled the room, mingling with the aroma of fresh coffee and sizzling bacon.
After breakfast, they wandered through the fields, the farm bathed in the golden light of late spring. Eleanor led Billy to her favorite hidden corners, where wildflowers painted the landscape and the old oak tree offered a sanctuary from the heat. As they walked, their conversation flowed effortlessly, their stories weaving a tapestry of shared experiences. Billy's voice softened as he spoke about less sinister things he'd been up to, exploring towns, the people he'd met along the way. Eleanor listened, captivated not just by his words but by the way his eyes sparkled with passion.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in hues of pink and orange, they sat on a hill overlooking the farm. The air was thick with the scent of earth and blooming flowers. Billy glanced at Eleanor, his eyes lingering a moment longer than usual. She felt a flutter in her chest, a warmth spreading through her as his gaze traveled over her face, settling on her lips for a heartbeat before looking away.
That evening, they found themselves by the fire, the flames casting a soft glow on their faces. Eleanor couldn't shake the feeling that something between them had shifted. The space between them felt charged, the air thick with unspoken words and budding attraction. She was drawn to Billy in a way she hadn't expected, her feelings teetering on the edge of friendship and something undeniably more.
With each passing day, Eleanor and Billy grew closer, their bond deepening in ways that felt both thrilling and terrifying. As they sat under the starlit sky, the world around them fading into the background, Billy couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of something new, something beautiful. Eleanor's hand brushed against him, and the spark that ignited was impossible to ignore. He looked at her, and in that moment, he knew—this was more than friendship. This was the start of something that could change everything for them.
Tumblr media
Billy and Eleanor were sitting by the fire as night fell over them. Billy's eyes wandered around the cozy farmhouse, finally landing on an old guitar propped up in the corner of the living room, dusty, worn down, but it still looked to be in good condition.
"Whose guitar is that?" Billy asked, nodding towards it.
Eleanor followed his gaze, a soft smile curling her lips, "It belongs to John, one of Jesse's guys. He plays it sometimes, but mostly it just sits there collecting dust,"
Billy's eyes sparkled with interest, "Do you play?"
"Sometimes," she admitted, a hint of nostalgia in her voice, "I don't know many songs,"
Billy leaned forward, his gaze intense but gentle, "Will you play something for me?"
Eleanor hesitated, her fingers instinctively twitching. She hadn't played for anyone in a long time, but there was something in Billy's eyes that made her want to share that part of herself with him.
"Okay," she said softly, standing up and fetching the guitar. She settled back down next to Billy, her fingers caressed the worn strings, a reverent touch as she tuned it.
"What do you want to hear?" she asked, glancing up at him.
"Anything," Billy said, "Anything you feel like,"
Eleanor took a deep breath, the cool evening air filling her lungs. She began to strum, her fingers moving with a familiarity that brought the guitar to life. The melody was simple, an old song her mother used to sing for her about a woman who was wrongly accused of murder. Not the most appropriate song for a child, but it resonated with Eleanor. As she played, she started to sing, her voice soft and haunting in the twilight.
Billy watched her, mesmerized. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the music and the gentle cadence of Eleanor's voice. He couldn't help but feel a deep sense of connection, the story she was telling so beautiful, so tragic.
When the last note faded, Eleanor looked up, her eyes meeting Billy's. There was a silence that spoke volumes, a shared understanding that words could never capture.
"Thank you," Billy said quietly, his voice full of emotion. "That was beautiful,"
Eleanor smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly, "I'm glad you liked it,"
26 notes · View notes
sleketon666 · 21 hours
Text
So... I decided to post that little writing I did for my Tav Marie and her first meeting with Rolan, Lia and Cal. I couldn't help myself and added some friendly banter between her, Astarion and Gale in the end
Just for the record - I've never written anything properly in English and it's been a while since I've written in my native language as well. So pardon any mistakes that you might see
Tags: fem Tav, first meeting, fluff
While walking into Emerald grove, Marie takes a good look on the place first. She has always been a cautious type who needed to spare at least a few seconds for studying her new surroundings before engaging in any conversation.
Even if she hadn't talked with Zevlor prior she would still know that some kind of conflict was unfolding here: the tense atmosphere in the grove made it clear to any adventurer that strangers were unwelcome in this place. Nor were welcome those seeking for a refuge.
Before searching for healing from Nettie and meeting Kagha, Marie and her two more talkative companions - a fellow wizard and an elf rogue - decided to stop for a trade. Even facing the risk of not living to see another day, they'd still rather lighten their pockets and exchange whatever junk they could find with some coin. And in case the tadpoles in their brains let them live a little more, they'd need supplies.
Before stumbling upon the grove Marie took the lead in their group. She has never been the one who wanted to be in charge of anything and tell others what to do, mind you. Gale just didn't seem to want that either and Astarion- well, he didn't seem like a reliable sort. So it appeared to be that Marie was the only one competent and willing enough for the role of a leader. It's not like she was not responsible or never put the needs of others before her like good leaders do, quite the opposite - she possessed such qualities. But not the charisma. If someone more endearing, easy-going and more capable of giving inspiring speaches and such will join them, she will gladly follow their lead. But for now she'll have to wait for such person.
Speaking of which, while trading with a halfling, Marie for once took a step back, allowing the other wizard do the talking (and the rogue - the pickpocketing). Meanwhile, she herself took her most loyal companion, her old notebook, and started writing down everything - the list of supplies they needed and the amount of gold they were about to both gain and spend. She always did the counting quicker than most (in which she took a lot of pride) so she made herself useful even when speaking wasn't required.
A few minutes passed by and trading turned into one of the most tedious things to ever imagine - a small talk. As Marie was putting away her notes and not listening to the other three men talking, her gaze started to wander. This time instead of the grove itself she looked more closely to the people in it. More druids seemed to be further, at the heart of the grove, while here only tieflings remained. Most of the ones she saw looked rather tense - and no wonder, giving the circumstances. Poor people, she thought to herself. Back in Baldur's Gate she heard very little of what happened to Elturel, but the stories and rumours she heard of were already enough to let her know that the refugees had been through a lot. So if simply talking to the new leader of the druids could help them, Marie will help for sure.
As Marie was getting lost in her thoughts, her feet lead her further away from companions and closer to the center of the grove. Still wanting to remain a silent observer, she kept her mouth shut when other tieflings passed by, and she pretended not to notice how they looked at her. At the end of the day, she was just as much of a new face for them as they were to her.
But her peaceful and quiet observations weren't to last forever. Marie felt her pointy ears twich slightly when she heard a few voices - all loud - getting closer to her (although, perhaps they were approaching the gate rather than herself). "I won't leave them behind!" she heard an angry yet pleading female voice first, and then a male one: "You're going to get us killed!" She shifted her gaze towards the direction from which the voices came and saw three tieflings arguing.
"We don't even know these people!" the voice belonged to a male tiefling who was the one walking towards the gate and looking behind his shoulder to continue bickering. The staff on his back and his colourful robes let Marie assume that he was another spellcaster, perhaps a wizard even, much like her and Gale.
"That doesn't matter." Said the woman following him with an angry look on her face, as if she was convincing him to stop, to stay.
"Of course it does. You would choose strangers over us!"
"That's not what I said." The woman's voice now held more spite in it than before.
"Can we all stop shouting? No?" The third tiefling, the tallest and seemingly the strongest one, finally spoke up just for his words to go completely unnoticed.
Despite his desperate attempts to seize the exchange of accusations and sharp words, the heated conversation continued. By that time Marie had already figured that the three must be close - perhaps friends or a family even. And it looked like all of them were incredibly stressed over the need to sit and wait either for a chance to escape or for their doom. Honestly, she couldn't blame any of them. She too would be restless if she found herself in situation like this one.
"This is about your precious Baldur's Gate." Getting more and more frustrated, the female tiefling now stopped the pleading and instead started to accuse her stubborn companion.
"I care about our lives. Our futures." He kept saying, almost unfazed.
"No. You just care about your stupid apprenticeship!" This time her words struck a nerve and made the man stop and turn around.
"Take that back! Right now!" He now sounded not just furious or bitter, but offended. And it didn't look like his friend was about to apologise. Instead, she only glared at him.
Now not only did the argument get more personal, but it's participants stopped too close for Marie's comfort which left her in an awkward position, even if the others weren't bothered by her presence. She would gladly continue eavesdropping, but preferably at a longer and safer distance. So, trying to not attract any unwanted attention she started to quietly walk away, leaving more privacy to the three tieflings until the conflict escalated further. It was none of her business, after all.
"Hells, we can't just leave. They're kin," surprisingly, the woman now sounded calmer. Perhaps she noticed presence of a stranger nearby and decided to lower her voice? Or perhaps, she herself was getting tired of arguing.
"I'll not gamble our lives, our futures, on people who are as good as dead. We must leave for Baldur's Gate at once."
The woman sighed loudly, clearly with annoyance, as a reply for the man's stubbornness.
"Can we all just take a moment? Please?" the tallest one kept trying to calm the others.
"You! You were one of those who fought at the gate, right?" She then suddenly pointed at Marie, completely ruining her attempt of making escape out of an unwanted social interaction. "You saw those goblins fight. Tell Rolan how without us those people can't stand a chance against them!" She said glaring at the man who she was arguing with. Rolan was his name, apparently.
"Um.. well," taken by surprise, Marie stood still, unsure on whether she actually should say anything or not. Ugh, great. Just as she wanted to rest a while from the stress of beginning conversations with strangers, she was dragged into one. And a quarrel no less! Feeling out of place, she desperately tried to gather her thoughts into a sentence.
"What's the point of blades and spells if we don't bloody use them? We should stay," the woman kept talking before Marie could do so much as say a word. "These people aren't fighters. We can help."
"Or yell louder, that's fine too." Clearly tired of arguing and being ignored, the third tiefling too started to get annoyed.
While her eyes were hidden under dark glasses, Marie took a quick look at each of the tieflings she was now, apparently, talking with. From what she could tell, the conversation could go on forever, exhausting each of its member. She couldn't be sure that whatever she was about to say wasn't going to be dismissed, but perhaps she could give it a try. The situation in the grove was already uneasy enough for the tieflings, there was no need for more bickering. But the woman was right - the refugees needed all the help they could get.
"The goblins had put on a hard fight," as Marie saw all three tieflings now looking at her, she tried to keep her posture as calm and neutral as possible, hiding her slight nervousness. "You can be of great help to your people and it would be safer for you to travel in larger group, too. A single blade or spell can make a huge difference."
"Thank you!" A smile finally appeared on woman's face as she looked at Marie with gratitude. Then, she looked back at the others. "It's the right thing to do, and you know it."
"Lia's right, Rolan. We're better then this," the tallest one added, hopeful (just like Marie) that this will put an end to the argument.
"Zurgan. Fine. I'll stay too," likely unconvinced by Marie's words but annoyed at his friends, the one who was named Rolan, exhaled sharply. "Lest you both end up with your throats slit by goblin's blade."
The glare Rolan gave Marie at the end didn't go unnoticed by her. She only replied with a slight smirk and a tilt of her had as a sarcastic "you're welcome". She knew that she did right by convincing them to stay, and she wouldn't allow his frown make her feel bad.
"Thank you, Rolan," Lia spoke calmly, ending the conversation at last.
The three turned back and started to walk away, only the third tiefling, the one who's name still remained a mystery, stopped before Marie.
"I'm Cal, by the way. Thank you for helping out. Both with goblins and these two," he said the last sentence with a relieved smile and held his hand for a greeting.
"Pleasure. Name's Marie," she replied politely. As Marie held her hand back to Cal, she felt his handshake to be much more firm and confident than hers, but not in an unpleasant manner. "By the way you tried to calm them down, Lia and Rolan are prone to arguing, I take it?"
"Yes, they are. They both will never admit it, but they'd take an arrow for each other. Also stab each other. Not sure what'll come first," he said with a shrug. "But I'm afraid they are gonna do the latter if I linger for too long. Nice meeting you!"
And before she could say anything, Cal already made himself scarce. Ah, a family then, not just friends. A grin spread out on Marie's face.
"Stabbing would certainly be more entertaining to watch," a familiar and disappointed voice sounded over Marie's shoulder. "Or at least another good punch in a face, like before."
Astarion spoke, clearly amused by the memory of his company's stoic and composed leader trying to reduce the tension between Zevlor and Aradin just for her to loose patience and throw hands at the adventurer.
She let out an irritated sigh at another of Astarion's whining before turning her face towards him.
"That guy had it coming, unlike people here. And I'm not proud of what I did to him, alright?"
"Oh? Is our leader feeling a gnawing pang of conscience?"
"A bit. I should've given the pleasure of hitting that brute to Zevlor. And his punch would be considerably stronger than mine, no doubt."
Surely, Astarion was expecting to hear a lecture about morality, so seeing his face light up with surprise and more amusement than before was a sight.
" Ah, there you are," soon, Gale started to approach the two." It seems that both of you weren't present in a conversation that I had with Arron-"
"Who?" both Marie and Astarion asked.
"...The trader?" The wizard said with a hint of chastising in his voice. "As I was saying, I had the pleasure of learning from him that there is a certain crypt nearby. And since we have a chance of being in a shortage of gold sooner, rather than later, I suggest we at least take a look at it."
"A crypt, you say?" a glint of interest light up in Marie's eyes (albeit hidden behind glasses).
"Ugh, I'm not usually in a mood for searching through dusty old tombs, but if among the bones and skulls we'll find a treasure, I suppose it'll have to do." Said Astarion with a pout.
"It is tempting, but it'll have to wait. First things first, we need to talk with the druids." Marie spoke up, dismissing both the annoyed roll of the rogue's red eyes and approving smile of the wizard. "Moreover, if my eyes did not deceive me, the Blade of Frontiers himself joined our fight with the goblins before. He could be a useful ally, so I'd have a chat with him as well."
"Just wonderful, another bleeding heart to join our ranks." Astarion said under his breath, but loud enough for his companions to hear and disregard his complaints.
17 notes · View notes
lovekenney · 7 months
Text
i love my mutuals sm like ugh omg i love you guys
@astaraels @bees-flowers @bubblegumbarbie33 @sugar-spice-everything-vice @carlgallagerswife @holymurdock @keyh0use @m4ndysk4nkovich@emmasmuse
17 notes · View notes
iniziareold · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Due to some recent developments, I've decided to make some changes— or rather, I want to return to how I used to function across my blogs. I used to run a tight ship and I miss it. People have always known me to treat my mains as, sort of unspoken exclusives, but I'm going to cement that in a bit more clearly as of today, moving forward into 2023 with it as I properly settle back into life on Tumblr. As a note, this does not require reciprocation, it is simply how I choose to go about this topic. And don't worry, I will update my general guidelines in a moment to reflect all this.
From hereon out, if I choose to list you as a main writing partner in a muse's page (and it is incredibly important to note that I will be even more exceedingly picky about it; it is not just tied to friendships behind the scenes): I am loyal to your portrayal and am, from that point forward, actively disinterested in writing with duplicates of your muse. This does not change much from my end, as I believe that I have always practiced this concept with the only exception being when two close friends pick up a muse simultaneously (and to my recollection, this has only occurred twice). So in essence, yes, I practice a sort of exclusivity from my end that, let me reiterate, does not require to be reciprocated. With this change, however, I want to note two main expectations that I will hold you to, and which you can, obviously, demand of me in return (and add your own):
Activity: Mika in specific will enjoy this one; you can expect certain activity from me, as life reasonably permits it (ie.: if I'm ill, let me sleep all day, come on). Let's call myself out here: I have been primarily gone from Tumblr for a period of almost three years, and regardless of the reasons behind it, I have sorely missed being here. I miss the days of 2016/2017 when this was an active part of my day and people had my attention throughout it. Since my life is finally settling, my passion for this place is returning and I actively await the moment when I can sit down and be here. And so with that— I feel confident to say that you can expect regular activity and replies from me as a writing partner. Don't let me take months, because you deserve more from me as a writing partner and I expect you to hold me to that if it were ever required.
Priority: As my main writing partner, you will always be prioritized, without exception. I hold myself to this very strictly (and always have), but it is also something that comes with incredible ease. For you become my main in the first place, it means that I must very thoroughly enjoy writing with you, so it is only normal that you get first dibs. And that when I open my drafts, I automatically navigate to your thread because I actively want to respond to it. This also means that when I come up with ideas or specific plots that involve your character (or even feral meta), I will always come to you.
These are two things that I expect to be reciprocated. I'm not demanding all of your time, I am not demanding you to tie yourself down to my portrayal in the way that I choose to do with yours, but I am demanding the same treatment of the above two points that I offer you, if we become main writing partners. It has to do with respect, and that is something that I have always held in very high regard.
(Again: don't forget the tags which will likely be even more important, who knows...)
8 notes · View notes
yeonban · 1 year
Text
Soma's bushido summed up:
Tumblr media
#muse: date soma.#That's one of Soma's canon quotes from 15 years ago btw... it's an embedded belief by present day#Naotora in his speech patterns: (flexible) want to. should [do x bc he feels it's a good idea].#Soma in his speech patterns: (rigid) have to. can't [do x bc it isn't smth that's allowed].#Not to say he doesn't /want/ to see a better world. He does. but the more idealistic version of him died over a decade ago#He wouldn't be pushed to keep going by just thinking that he 'wants' to do something or 'wants' to see something happen#what is 'want' in a society that represses individuality and calls for everyone to live for their nation/clan rather than themselves#'must' and 'have to' are firmer concepts that he can hold on to. it means there are /important/ things at stake if he doesn't follow thru#Ask Naotora what he wants and he's going to list off a hundred things as easily as he breathes#Ask Soma what he wants and he's going to stare at you like you've grown a second head bc wdym what he /wants/#Naotora is what he wants to be first and foremost. Soma is what he needs to be first and foremost.#It's why I'm so :') at his interactions w/ Seiroku bc he doesn't /have/ to be anything around him and that's a VERY novel feeling#Soma w/ his people: I'm their captain -> I must never show them weaknesses. I have to be an unshakeable stronghold#Soma w/ the grand generals: We're friends but also rivals -> I have to remain on my guard about their propositions & not show any weakness#Tsubasa's kind of an exception but EVEN W/ HER... Soma doesn't /fully/ let his guard down; altho it's mainly out of force of habit#He does trust her; and he does a lot of things she wants him to bc he has a soft spot for her & knows she doesn't mean him harm#but at the end of the day... ALL of the grand generals are competing against each other#there are only so many resources they can use (esp in this arc) and their duty; which comes first; is to ensure their own band's survival#so despite trusting Tsubasa; at the back of his mind he's prepared for the eventuality of her choosing the Tokugawa over their friendship#He cherishes his childhood friends but man is there a LOT of baggage and a very specific detachedness in his interactions w/ them#That for the better or for the worse aren't there (at least rn) in his interactions w/ Seiroku which allows Soma to Be Himself
5 notes · View notes
Note
Hi- er, this is my first-ever writer's strike, how does one not cross a picket line in this context? I know how not to do it with things like Amazon and IRL strikes, but how does it apply to media/streaming?
Hi, this is a great question, because it allows me to write about the difference between honoring a picket line and a boycott. (This is reminding me of the labor history podcast project that's lain fallow in my drafts folder for some time now...) In its simplest formulation, the difference between a picket line and a boycott is that a picket line targets an employer at the point of production (which involves us as workers), whereas a boycott targets an employer at the point of consumption (which involves us as consumers).
So in the case of the WGA strike, this means that at any company that is being struck by the WGA - I've seen Netflix, Amazon, Apple, Disney, Warner Brothers Discovery, NBC, Paramount, and Sony mentioned, but there may be more (check the WGA website and social media for a comprehensive list) - you do not cross a picket line, whether physical or virtual. This means you do not take a meeting with them, even if its a pre-existing project, you do not take phone calls or texts or emails or Slacks from their executives, you do not pitch them on a spec script you've written, and most of all you do not answer any job application.
Because if this strike is like any strike since the dawn of time, you will see the employers put out ads for short-term contracts that will be very lucrative, generally above union scale - because what they're paying for in addition to your labor is you breaking the picket line and damaging the strike - to anyone willing to scab against their fellow workers. GIven that one of the main issues of the WGA are the proliferation of short-term "mini rooms" whereby employers are hiring teams of writers to work overtime for a very short period, to the point where they can only really do the basics (a series outline, some "broken stories," and some scripts) and then have the showrunner redo everything on their lonesome, while not paying writers long-term pay and benefits, I would imagine we're going to see a lot of scab contracts being offered for these mini rooms.
But for most of us, unless we're actively working as writers in Hollywood, most of that isn't going to be particularly relevant to our day-to-day working lives. If you're not a professional or aspiring Hollywood writer, the important thing to remember honoring the picket line doesn't mean the same thing as a boycott. WGA West hasn't called on anyone to stop going to the movies or watching tv/streaming or to cancel their streaming subscriptions or anything like that. If and when that happens, WGA will go to some lengths to publicize that ask - and you should absolutely honor it if you can - so there will be little in the way of ambiguity as to what's going on.
That being said, one of the things that has happened in the past in other strikes is that well-intentioned people get it into their heads to essentially declare wildcat (i.e, unofficial and unsanctioned) boycotts. This kind of stuff comes from a good place, someone wanting to do more to support the cause and wanting to avoid morally contaminating themselves by associating with a struck company, but it can have negative effects on the workers and their unions. Wildcat boycotts can harm workers by reducing back-end pay and benefits they get from shows if that stuff is tied to the show's performance, and wildcat boycotts can hurt unions by damaging negotiations with employers that may or may not be going on.
The important thing to remember with all of this is that the strike is about them, not us. Part of being a good ally is remembering to let the workers' voices be heard first and prioritizing being a good listener and following their lead, rather than prioritizing our feelings.
28K notes · View notes
novelbear · 4 months
Text
a dialogue list for angry love confessions
prompt list by @novelbear | very slight cw for cursing!
"if you can't figure it out by now, then i don't have anything else to tell you."
"i thought that if i did all of this and came all this way, it would finally click for you."
"come back to me when you figure it out."
"i am done. i'm done waiting for you."
"i'm in love with you, you dumbass."
"what the hell did you think i meant by that?"
"i've been stupid enough to keep chasing after you."
"you knew. you knew i loved you and took full advantage of the fact that i'd do anything for you. and i knew that. i just kept at it hoping that one day you'd value me just as much."
"i've been following you around like a lost puppy since the day we met, yet you couldn't see?"
"i dropped everything to be with you! everything!"
"why do i keep doing this to myself..."
"i'm not losing the one person i love because of some stupid shit."
"is that what you wanted to hear? are you happy?"
"what do you think i've been doing this for?"
"i had thought all of this would be so different for us."
"don't you want the same?"
"god, how blind can you be?"
"open your eyes!"
"i've wasted years of my life chasing after someone who couldn't give a fuck about me..."
4K notes · View notes
pleasantboatpress · 6 months
Text
so, you wanted to start bookbinding?
so @princetofbone mentioned on my post for "factory settings" about wanting to know more about the binding style that i used for it. so i thought i might make a post about it.
i was as terrible as i always am for taking in progress shots, but i can link you to the resources i used in order to make my book. i would also like to point out that "factory settings" is my 120th bind, and i have been doing bookbinding as a hobby for just over 3 years now. unfortunately this means some of the methods that i used for that bind aren't particularly beginner friendly, just in terms of the tools and methods i have used, but i would love to point you in the right direction when it comes to resources. i dont say this to sound pretentious which i fear i might come across, just so that youre fully informed. getting into this hobby is fun and rewarding, but it can definitely be intimidating.
with that caveat, heres a list of links and resources that i have used for bookbinding in general, with additional links to methods i used specifically in regards to this bind.
ASH's how to make a book document. it gives you a great introduction into typesetting fics (where you format the text of fics to look like a traditionally published books) and then turning them into a case-bound book (the style i used for "factory settings"). it is comprehensive, and explains how to use microsoft word to do your bidding. it was invaluable to me when i was just starting out! currently i use affinity publisher to typeset/format my fics for printing, but i only bought and learned how to use that after i had been binding books for a year and a half. i made some beautiful typesets with word, and some of my close friends use it still and design stuff that i never would be able to in my wildest dreams (basically anything by @no-name-publishing)
DAS Bookbinding's Square Back Bradel Binding. a great style to do your first bind in! this method requires, when making the case, to attach the cover board and the spine board to a connecting piece of paper, which makes it so much easier to match the size of the case to the size of the text block (your printed out and sewn fic). using this method is what allowed me to get much more accurately fitting cases, and made me much more confident with the construction of the books i was making. a well-made book is something that is so wonderful to hold in your hands!
DAS Bookbinding's Rounded and Backed Cased Book. This is the specific method that i used to create my bind for "factory settings"! even before i could back my books, i found that watching DAS's videos in particular helped me see how books were traditionally made, and i was able to see different tips and tricks about how to make nicer books.
Book Edge Trimming Without... i trim the edges of my text block using my finishing press and a chisel i have sharpened using a whetstone and leather strop with buffing compound on it. i follow the method for trimming shown in this video!
Made Endpapers. i follow this method for my endpapers, as i used handmade lokta endpapers, and they can be quite thin, but they look beautiful! i used "tipped on" endpapers (where you have your endpaper and then put a thin strip of glue on the edge and attach it to your text block) i used for a very long time before this, but these feel like they are much more stable, as they are sewn with your text block.
Edge Sprinkling. this is the method that i used for decorating the edges of my text block. but the principle is basically clamping your text block tight and then sprinkling the edges. i do not believe you need to trim the edges in order to do sprinkles on the edges, and that's what makes it accessible! i personally just use really cheap acrylic paint that i water down and then flick it onto the edges with my thumb and a paint brush.
Double-Core Endbands. i sew my own endbands, which i followed this tutorial for. that being said, it's kind of confusing, and this video is a bit easier to follow, but it is a slightly different type of endband.
Case decoration. i used my silhouette cameo 4 to cut out my design for "factory settings" in htv (heat transfer vinyl). i also used my cameo 4 to cut out the oval of marbled paper on the front, as i honestly didn't want to try my hand at cutting an oval lol. i also glued some 300 gsm card with an oval cut out of the centre of it onto the cover before covering it with bookcloth, to get a kind of recess on the cover. i then glued the oval of marbled paper onto the top of the recessed area once it was covered with bookcloth, so that it was protected. the images i used were sourced from a mix of rawpixel, canva and pixabay. a more accessible way to get into cover decoration is by painting on a design for your cover as described in @a-gay-old-time's tutorial just here. or even doing paper labels, which look classy imo.
physical materials. sourcing these will depend on your country. i am located in australia, and have compiled a list with some other aussie bookbinders of places to buy from. here is a great post describing beginning materials for getting started binding.
@renegadepublishing. this tumblr is great! its what got me started bookbinding, and being in the discord has been inspiring, motivating, and honestly just one of the best online experiences i have ever had. it is full of resources, and most people in there are amateur bookbinders, with a couple of professionals thrown in. the discord is 18+, and anyone can join!
i'm sorry this post got so long, but i hope that this has a lot of information for you if you would like to get started bookbinding. its one of the best hobbies ive ever had, and i genuinely believe i will have it for the rest of my life.
3K notes · View notes