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#I have no idea how long ill use this blog for again
pinkpudgypearl · 8 months
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THINGS CURRENTLY SUCK ASS SO GUESS WHOS BACK ON THIS BLOG
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ao3commentoftheday · 5 months
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Hey!
This is something that's been rolling around in my head for a while, and I'm wondering if you or any of your followers have experience with getting back into writing after illness.
I've been chronically ill for a long time. My symptoms vary a lot depending on external circumstances. From about 2019-2021 or so, I was updating an AU about once a month and having an absolute blast with it...then my health hit a stumbling block. Then it hit another, and another.
I'm now at a point where the stumbling blocks don't seem to be going away anytime soon. I'm starting to feel the mental health effects of not having the spoons to work writing into my day.
I spent the past couple years trying to let myself lie fallow and be kind with my brain when my body needs so much help. I'm at a point where even when I WANT to write, it feels like it's been so long I've almost forgotten how. I'm stalled on all my WIPs from that AU, but it doesn't feel like writer's block so much as it feels like writer's atrophy. I miss it terribly, but I'm having a lot of trouble getting back on my feet.
Thank you for everything you've given our community over the years! 💜💜
*hugs* that's a rough spot to be in, and I hope that we can offer you some ways to get out of it. I'll offer some suggestions from my own experience with a change in health status, but I'm really hopeful that the rest of the blog have some tips to share as well.
Don't hold yourself up to your previous standards. Your abilities have changed, and you should take that into account. If you used to be able to write for 2 hours and now you can only manage 10 minutes, don't see that as a failure. 10 minutes is now your success point. If you used to be able to manage 100K stories with intricate plots and now you find it a challenge to write a straightforward oneshot? Then finishing that oneshot is an accomplishment to be proud of.
If the way you used to do things doesn't work, don't keep trying to do them that way. If you used to type onto a laptop but now staring at the screen makes you feel exhausted? Try dictating into your phone and using speech to text to transcribe it. Then you can go through and edit what's already there. If you used to write at a desk but now sitting up for long periods wears you out? Try tapping it out on your phone in bed. You can't focus for long periods the way that you used to? Turn on the TV and write during commercial breaks.
Don't try to pick up right where you left off. You need to get yourself back in writing shape before you can take on a story that's already halfway written. Those WIPs will still be there, even if you start off with a ficlet or a missing moment or a post-episode coda etc. Start off small. Use ideas or plots that are easier for you to write. Get back into the swing of it before you try to tackle a big project again.
As you try to write something and you find yourself unable to, take a moment and try to identify what the hard part is. Are you having trouble finding words? Are you in an uncomfortable position? Is the device you're using annoying you or difficult to work with? For each problem you can identify, see if you can find an accommodation for it - and look to see if other people have had to accommodate the same issue before you. It's very likely that they have.
I'll stop here and let the spoonies share their thoughts in the notes. I look forward to picking up some advice for myself too ❤️
You can find this question and answer over on Dreamwidth as well, if you'd like to join the conversation over there.
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 1 month
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Crinkled Polaroids
Ex-boyfriend!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
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Hi my lovelies, Lia here and I'd just like to say that this took so long and so much effort, I really poured my heart out on this one and I hope it goes well. Recently my biggest heartbreaks are the "What ifs", what if you two worked it out? Would things be different? Would Simon have the life you've dreamed for the both of you and the one he's been deprived of?
You might be asking me "Lia, what's up with all the angsty content recently, aren't you a fluff dedicated blog?" Well I feel ill, I just got off an extremely busy week and most of my drafts have been never ending angst because I lost ideas of a domestic fam with Simon but I still need to get something out for you guys okay? A random bedtime scenario written down at 3am and for the rest of my midnights during a photoshoot and exam week, what could go wrong?
I'm still waiting on what my beloved @connorsui's review has to say 👀
Disclaimers/Warnings: This is not proofread, also ANGST.
My CoD Masterlist
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thesnowurzikdjinn @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000
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A relationship with Simon Riley going south, at first it started great as most relationships do with several minor bumps due to his past but no big deal right?
But Simon distances himself, more than what's healthy and yes, you do give him his space but there's only little time until closing and distancing off for a while could turn into something like neglect.
Little things like "I love you"s, "thank you"s and every verbal affirmation that you used to think you could cling onto was now non-existent, it hurts but isn't as hurtful when he refuses to touch you.
Back hugs you give would only give you a cold shrug in return, kisses you left were on cold chapped lips that remain still. At this point, you were better off loving someone dead.. then again, aren't you already doing so?
The life you've imagined for the both of you cease to fade in your head as the true reality of the man you love sets in, that dumb idea your younger self who had rose tinted glasses had to actually settle down with someone in such a short period of time of a few years.
You felt so unappreciated, it seemed like no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get him to see you. You felt cheated of the relationship you were supposed to have with him when you see others with the one you love and how he acts around everyone except you. You felt like nothing but a chore to him, an occasional fuck who cleans his home.
Then again, this is a broken man, you felt entitled to ask such a thing of him when he himself is also just healing from what his past had caused.
In Simon's eyes, he was doing you a favor, fucked up in his part thinking hurting you is the best way to save you from himself. It worked, that's what he wanted.. right?
So you leave, it was best for the both of you anyway right? Simon deserves someone who could actually make him happy and you deserve to feel loved in a relationship. Simon's life was a mess, truly, but he didn't realize how much more of a mess it was without you.
Coming home to an empty shell of a house, nothing to look forward to. He found himself almost on the brink of insanity, moving things all over his own home as if you were still there.
Always finding himself staring at that one wornout and creased polaroid of you and him, you were a silly one huh? A hobby of yours that left so much proof of your existence.
Begging him to be in a picture, bribing him with a kiss. Slightly smudged and distorted but still legible pen ink at the back as he flips the flimsy piece of thick, shiny paper.
Keep him safe for me, Ghost.
- Your favorite girl <3
You always thought of him as Simon and Ghost as just an alter ego, a mask that he needs to wear in order to stomach the violence that comes with his occupation.
You were the only one who can differentiate these two people. Tears started to form in his eyes but he blinks it away and shoves the polaroid back in his wallet.
He only started noticing changes when Johnny points out that he's become stone cold, a lot more silent, though he was known to be a ghost.. a shadow.. it wasn't like him to not even try to light up his mood with his dark jokes.
Everytime Simon thinks he gets over the pain, there's always one thing in that stupid house that reminded him of you. You weren't there but it sure felt like that you haunted every corner of the house and his mind.
Whether that'd be something you gifted him or an item of yours left behind, especially when the two of you shared moments with those items, oftentimes Simon tries to relive those, preserve his fading memory of your face.
This is what happens when the decisions you make have consequences on the one that your world revolves around.
A few years down this lane, nothing has changed for Simon, at some part of this never ending low point in his life he was under substance abuse.. alcohol to be specific, since to him it was easier. In concern of his captain, he did get help for it to which had progress.
Ghost kept it together, "today was a day to celebrate Gaz" he thought, blowing out the nicotinic smoke and flicking the ash off his cigarette after.. he knew Ghost's thing was more of a "let's drink and play pool in a pub" rather than a sit-down dinner kind of guy but Kyle insisted.
He thought about how awkward it was, although Ghost felt like he knew Kyle's family just from the lovesick fool himself who would never shut up, always finding a way to talk about his wife and their two kids.
After another puff, he throws the cigarette butt on the pavement and grinds the sole of his shoe over it, the soft hiss for the cigarette evoking, proving it was put out.
Simon walked a few blocks till stopping at the Sergeant's described location, his footsteps made smooth, satisfying taps on the wood floorboards of the porch and he knocks.
Price took liberty of being the one to open the door for Simon because the family was busy, Simon walked through the front door with ease, seeing Johnny somewhat interacting with a kid.
He was welcomed by the a cozy looking space, it was homey and clearly occupied, the shoes lined up on the shoe rack next to the door from the largest pair to the tiniest which was such a far contrast from his empty gloomy apartment.
The kid caught glimpse of Simon, they run up to him and take his hand to guide him into the living room as of to welcome him before bringing back their attention to Johnny and somewhat messing with his stubby mohawk.
The lieutenant observed his surroundings, the little toys and picture frames hung around the house, for a moment his heart drops to his stomach, he blinks thinking he must've been imagining things. Simon walked closer to it, he wasn't imagining it.. that was you, in a wedding dress, in the photo with Kyle.
You looked glowing.. as if you've never looked better in your life, that heart stopping smile on your face, the flowery bouquet on your hands. The green of stems highlight the precious metal band on your finger. Of all the people, places and time, why here? Why now? Why Kyle..?
For a few seconds, just a few when Simon thought his nerves and gut settled, he heard the sweetest voice that was all he knew.
He forgot what it sounded like, the effect it had on him, all too overwhelming for a man who tried desperately to run away from the consequences of his actions. I guess that saying that once you don't hear someone's voice as frequently, you start to forget what they sound like.
For once, the ringing in his ear is gone. Just your voice, all he needed, he closed his eyes for a few soaking in the fact that you're here. For a moment he forgets to take into account that you weren't his. You and Simon make eye contact, the smile on your face drops as soon as you realize who is in your home.. who your husband invited..
Dinner came around, you tried your best to stomach the food you made, every swallow was a challenge. You spent most of your time staring at the food below you, afraid to even spare a glance at Simon. He was as uneasy as you were, telling the group he had to go to the bathroom as an excuse to explore what you now view as your home. The place you built your family together with your husband.
Simon uses the stealth he was known for to sneak in all the rooms, starting with the closest, the kitchen. The pictures on the fridge were enough to catch his attention, polaroids were something he was all too familiar with. Photos of the kids littered on the cold metal box with magnets others were of you and Kyle.
Everywhere he glances was proof of the life you built, the life you could've had together if he hadn't taken you for granted. Simon returned to the table a few minutes later, you easily notice the sudden drop of his mood to solemn.
Constantly closing his eyes, the lieutenant's head was spinning, taking in the fact that Garrick was able to settle down with you in those few years, the same amount of time you'd been together and you both were never close to achieving what you had now.
The night ended with the mens' satisfied stomachs while you and Kyle play-fight about who gets to do the dishes. As all of them were about to leave, you gathered what little guts you had to at least try to talk to Simon as he's the last one out the door, away from the ears of your husband who's currently doing the dishes because the last thing you'd want is to ruin their friendship.
"Goodbye Si.."
Simon never thought he'd hear that nickname out of your lips ever again, he stopped, his feet felt like they were sinking on the ground. Before he knew it, Simon was back on your porch, squeezing you so tight. You tried to pull away but he only held tighter, head rested on your shoulder.
"One last, lovie.. please.." you sigh, your arms wrapping around him, you tried your best to sooth him as your palm runs up and down his back. You felt the sleeve of your shirt getting damp, Simon didn't cry often, but this was different. It wasn't silent at all like you were used to, he was straight up sobbing.
Simon pulled back slowly, you saw his puffed up and flushed face against his pale skin. You felt bad for Simon however what happened is what happened and you were content where you were no matter how much pain the past brings you.
Simon knows you're happy, he sees it, he cups your cheek with his hand. He was about to lean in and kiss your forehead like he always used to but he stops himself.
He wanted to be selfish, he wanted you again but he can't do that to Kyle and he knows this would only upset you so just like before, with a heavy heart he leaves.
Simon will forever let that sink into his heart, the only one he's ever love will forever be engrained in his mind. You will always be his favorite girl..
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secretwritingspot · 5 months
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Too Much (Take Me Home)
Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader
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Rating/Content Warnings: okay so I have no idea how to rate this. Like this is definitely not PG but it's also not really nsfw?? Honestly I'd recommend just reading the summary and deciding for yourself from there.
Summary: Reader is a sub who, due to the nature of y'know like being on a pirate ship constantly has not had a single chance to relax in weeks, especially since they don't really know any of their crewmates like that. Sanji steps in to save the day.
Disclaimer(s): so funny story - this is the single kinkiest thing I've written for this blog. And yet. It is also the least sexual thing I've written for this blog, that being not sexual at all. This is purely mentally-ill wish fulfillment emotional hurt-comfort d/s fluff. None of those words are in the bible but we persist nonetheless. A lot of d/s themes but like soft d/s if that makes sense, undernegotiated kink (there's definitely communication and it's p healthy but they're both idiots your honor), some petplay if you squint? Like not really but reader is on their knees and he calls them puppy a few times so do with that what you will.
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There's a surprising amount of paperwork that comes with being the ship's chef.
One would think Sanji was always on his feet, whipping up something new- and yet here he is, late at night, sitting at a table that feels nautical miles away from where he really wants to be, the galley. But this was a part of the job- to catalogue ingredients, new recipes, what he could make and on what day for their supplies to last until the next town.
He's used to it being a solitary job, but then there's footsteps and a knock at the doorframe of his room and you walk in, shy uncertainty in your voice.
"...Sanji?"
You weren't sure about this, about any of this. But you were exhausted in a way that sleep couldn't fix, and it was obvious to you as to why.
You were a sub. There, you admitted it, got that embarrassing information out of the way as quickly as possible.
You - strong, strategic, stoic you - had been spinning out for the last few days. It had been too long since you'd been able to go under, since you'd joined the strawhats, to be precise, and it was starting to wear on you.
There was only so long you could go like this, tough and detached, protecting everyone else, taking care of the rest of your crew before yourself. It was constant, on the Merry. You really should've seen that coming with it being a pirate ship and all, but you felt like you had no room to breathe. Wake up, save the day, plan, eat and sleep only to keep your energy up to do it again the next day. You were always on, always performing the most capable version of yourself, and it was starting to wear you thin.
Sanji, for all his care and attention, hadn't seemed to notice. Even now, when you'd come to him like this. For that, a part of you was thankful.
He can't even hope to hide the way his face lights up when you walk in, quickly grabbing a towel next to him and wiping off his hands on instinct, like there should be oil or cooking wine or flour on them. There isn't, but other times there is. And there will be again, eventually. Better safe than sorry, he supposes.
"What could possibly bring such an angel down to me so late?"
He questions with a charming smile, cocking his head at you fondly. You roll your eyes at his immediate antics, blushing.
"Ah. Straight to business, huh?"
You laugh nervously, looking away and scratching the back of your neck with a sheepish blush.
"...can I stay with you? While you work?"
He squints at you curiously and then nods, smile blooming on his face the way it always does when you're around. For such a simple request, he doesn't know why you look so embarrassed.
Sure, the signs of embarrassment aren't as obvious on someone like you- but he can still see them. The way your eyes avoid his, the slight awkwardness in your stance as you shift on your feet.
"Of course, love. I'd never turn down your wonderful company."
You take a relieved breath and nod, looking down. For a moment you stand still, trying to make your feet move. Is this really such a good idea?
You take the leap before you can second guess yourself, walking over to where he sits at the desk. You pass the other seats and he squints curiously, having expected you to take one. Instead, you come straight to his, sinking down to your knees next to him and sitting back on your heels, resting your head on the side of his thigh.
Oh.
Oh, wow.
His eyes widen when you settle on the floor next to him, his face a pink hue as he looks down at you. Still, he didn't move. Instead, he gently brushes some of your hair back, looking at you with confusion.
"Are you...what are you doing, love?"
You swallow thickly, blinking your eyes back open to look up at him pleadingly, face pink.
"...can I stay here? I- I'll explain if you want, I promise, just...please."
He chuckles, an intrigued little smile gracing his features as he looks down at you nods. "Go ahead, explain. You can stay here as long as you'd like, darling."
"I need..."
You start to speak before backing up your explanation, embarrassment showing in the way your speech jumps back and forth between thoughts.
"I've been exhausted, recently. I'm sleeping fine, I just...sometimes I need to- to relax a certain, uh- a certain way. And since we've been on the ship, I haven't been able to, uh..."
You squeeze your eyes shut with embarrassment, taking a deep breath and turning to press your face against his thigh to hide your blush.
"...subspace. I'm- I'm a sub. And I haven't been able to go into subspace for a while, and I know this is a lot to ask you and I'm sorry, I just- I need to be like this for a while, please."
Immediately, your behavior starts to make sense. It would be hard to be a sub on a crew like this, constantly having to fight and stay in control. You likely haven't had the chance to submit to anyone in ages, if only for safety reasons. After all, you're all wanted. But with the natural way you dropped to your knees below him, put your head on his thigh like second nature, it all clicks.
He looks at you for a moment and blinks, his expression unreadable.
"...I think I understand what you mean. You want to be good for me, yes? I don't mind that, you know. You're quite pretty like this." He gently drags the back of his hand across your face with a smile before adding, almost as an afterthought, "Sweet thing."
You shiver at his words and nod in confirmation, letting your head fall back to the side to rest against his thigh.
This is...it's the last thing he'd expect from you, really. You're so tough and capable and independent, so the fact that you're a sub? The more he thinks about it the more it makes him blush- that someone like you was even capable of submitting, let alone craved it, let alone again would come to him, pleading for him to let you kneel at his feet for a while as he works. He gently runs a hand along your back, the corner of his mouth twitching as he smirks.
"I want you to stay like this until you're satisfied, alright darling?" He smiles and takes a look back at the paperwork on the table "...Are you comfortable there?"
You nod, heart fluttering when he says he wants you to stay like this until you feel better. It's sweet and gentle and so very Sanji, but at the same time, it sounds almost like an instruction. Like a command. It makes your cheeks flush and your mind stop whirring for a second in a way you'd missed so badly from when friends or partners who knew about your submissiveness back on land would put you under. The comfort of not having to think of anything besides doing what you're told- being good, always being good. You'd missed this.
"I need you to relax for me, okay? Just...focus on enjoying yourself, yeah? I have to get this work done, so I'm counting on you to stay right here. Can you do that for me?"
You nod almost immediately and he grins at the obedience, going back to his work with a satisfaction mirrored in you.
Something to do. A task. Something to be good at, good enough to make him proud. It settles your mind as you lean your head against him, the slight twinge of pain from kneeling on the wooden floor grounding you pleasantly.
He could get used to this, he thinks- you sitting at his feet next to him like a puppy, one of his hands scratching through your hair absentmindedly as he works through his paperwork and supply numbers. He watches you out of the corner of his eye as he works, the sound of parchment paper a pleasant constant. Your breathing was also rather soothing, a nice background to his quiet humming as he writes. He feels as though he could listen to it all night and never grow tired of it.
He makes a mental note of how each different touch effects you- cataloging your reactions, what you like, what seems to make your mind dissolve. He finds a particular sweet spot behind your ears that leaves you a shivering puddle when he scratches softly with his nails, a spot at the crown of your head that makes you purr, that any light touch closer to your neck provokes a wobbly, ticklish smile but that you don't make any move to stop him. You seem completely zoned out, dazed and pliant and warm under his fingers.
A minute passes like that, then five, then ten. He looks back down to check on you and feels his heart stall in his chest.
"Oh, darling..." He whispers softly, blushing at the sight of you. Hazy and dazed with near-reverence in your eyes. He stops writing, setting down the pen and reaching down to lift your chin up, looking you directly in the eyes.
"Look at me. Please."
You perch your chin on his thigh obediently to look up at him from your position on the floor. It's the most relaxed he's ever seen you- shoulders dropped like a tremendous weight's been lifted from you, limbs like lead as doe eyes blink up at him blearily, expression glazed-over and vulnerable and soft, softer than he thought you were capable of.
You were a tremendous warrior, someone feared across the seas, and yet your head was on his thigh, sitting at his feet below him.
You, who could kill him in a fraction of a second if you wanted.
He sighs, a little breathless. He's so tempted to lean down and kiss you, but he shakes his head slowly. Not now, not yet. There's something else he needs to do first.
His hand runs through your hair as he looks into your eyes almost like a nurse would with a concussed patient, checking up on you to make sure you're okay.
"Can you speak? It doesn't have to be a lot, just...say something for me, love."
"C'n speak."
You answer softly, obedient nearly to a fault, your usually confident voice gone soft and mumbly. It's perfect. Christ, all of it is perfect.
"'verything's just kinda...fuzzy right now. 's okay, it's nice."
His eyes are glued to you as his hand gently runs through your hair, scratching behind your ear. There's something on his mind, something he can't quite place or figure out yet.
"You look so beautiful right now." He admits gently, his voice still a low whisper. "Can you tell me why- why you're like this?"
Well, wasn't that a hell of a question? Why are you - always that emphasis in your head, though he doesn't mean it like that - of all people, why are you?
A few moments pass before you say anything. You don't really know what you would say, not until it's already coming out of your mouth.
"...cause 'm not allowed to be."
It's the only answer you can think of when you can finally convince yourself to speak.
"I- I have to know everything. All the time. Be in charge and make the tough decisions and stay on top of everything and make sure everyone's okay-"
The words come slowly at first, but the longer you speak the quicker they spill out, rambling like it's something that's been festering for weeks that you desperately need to get off your chest.
You cut yourself off with a deep breath when you realize the breakneck speed with which you're ranting, simplifying your answer down to it's most basic terms.
"...I don't get to be weak."
He can't help but feel his breath catch at that reply. "I don't get to", like it's something you want but aren't allowed. He can so easily see that side of you now that you mentioned it, but he'd always just ignored it. It seemed inconsequential. Like that part just...wasn't you.
It strikes him then that that was probably on purpose, on your part. You wanted them to disregard it.
But the more he thinks about it, the more he recontectualizes all your stress, all the moments of you snapping at the crew over little slights, the more curious he gets as to how and why you got to be like this in the first place.
"There isn't anything weak about this." he pushes back sternly as soon as he can get his voice to work. "This is...this is the most courageous thing I could imagine. I'm so proud of you."
The words hit you like a brick and you close your eyes, taking a shaky breath as they play on repeat in your head.
"I'm so proud of you."
You can feel yourself crumbling at his affection, the voracity of his care. How adamant he is about understanding that sometimes you just needed to be below someone else.
He cups your cheek in his hand softly, angling your face to look up at him. The more you let your guard down, the warmer his chest feels looking at you. He'd never seen you open up this much, it makes his heart ache. He smiles at the sight of you looking up at him so prettily, lightly tapping the tip of your nose.
"...there you are."
The words are barely a whisper, full of pride and admiration and pleasant disbelief. It's a shame how much you try to prove your strength, your resilience when there isn't a reason for it.
You'd always been enough for him. Always been strong enough, tough enough, useful enough. Always, always, always.
You'd never needed to be anything more than who you were, and getting to see you like this...it's like he's seeing you for the first time all over again.
"It's an honor to finally meet you."
All you can manage is a soft huff of breath, his words knocking the breath from your lungs. It's almost a sob, except that there are no tears. You have no idea why. Or why you almost sobbed in the first place. Why are there no tears?
"It's an honor to finally meet you."
The words cut through you like water. He still wants you? Even like this- emotionally stunted, a needy mess, pathetic and fragile and shaking?
"The way you are right now is nothing short of beautiful. Everything about you is lovely. It's...it isn't easy letting go like this, is it?" He muses, a hand resting on your hair, his thumb running along your face.
You sniffle quietly and blink back tears, nodding your head. It's progress even getting you to agree.
He knows you aren't upset by his words and so your unshed tears don't bother him. Knows that you aren't used to this, aren't going to be good at believing or accepting it immediately. He knows it'll take time to get to a place where words like that don't phase you anymore. So for now, your agreement is more than enough.
"...can we stay here for a while? Please?"
You break through his train of thought with a cautious whisper, voice small. A surge of pride shoots through him at your words, so fucking proud. If agreeing with his words is difficult, asking for what you want is worse. It's a hell of a first step.
"Of course we can. How long do you want to be like this, sweetheart?"
Ah. And there's the problem, isn't it? The "what do you want?" Really and truly, you have no idea.
"I don't mind much, it's..."
You trail off softly, hiding your face against his thigh in embarrassment as your blush spreads to the tips of your ears.
"...'s however long you want me to stay. It...it helps, letting you decide things for me."
The admission is a shy one, but it's not like it's something he couldn't've seen coming. It makes sense that instructions and praise would go hand in hand to make someone like you feel safe, small, protected.
"...I don't want you to move, okay?" He finally decides, lifting his hand from your hair to brush it behind your ear, fingernails scratching gently.
"Just let me take care of you for a while."
You take a deep breath at his words like the air's cleared for the first time in decades, finally having something to ground yourself on.
He makes a note of that in his head, too- you like a sense of order, when he makes decisions for you or gives you instructions to follow. Something simple that you can focus on even in your dazed, vulnerable state of mind, a task you can accomplish.
His hand continues to run through your hair gently, thumb making little figure 8's at the crown of your head.
"Do you want me to hold you? Or do you prefer being on your knees?"
He doesn't look at you when he asks, pen scratching away at his charts with his eyes on the table. Somehow, that helps- the idea that he's still working, that you're not too inconvenient of a distraction.
The simple choice you're given between two options makes everything feel easy and calm and hazy, and your voice is quiet when you answer.
"On- on my knees. Makes me feel more- more..."
You trail off, trying to explain but unable to find the words.
"More vulnerable." He finishes for you, smiling as it finally clicks. A position of submission, giving up your power to him.
Undoubtably, you're more vulnerable on your knees. You'd typically never let anyone near you in this state, not since you joined the strawhats, but with him, it feels...safe.
"I like it too." He admits, his hand still on you as his voice slowly trails off.
Your features smooth out in relief at his understanding and you nod, leaning into him and nuzzling his thigh for a moment to show your appreciation.
He has to look away for a moment, as seeing you nuzzle against him triggers an almost visceral reaction he wasn't expecting. His face flushes a bit more, a small smile brightening face as he leans in his chair, his expression adoring as he looks down at you. He reaches out for your ear, scratching gently at it with his fingernail.
You're so soft like this he swears he might fall in love.
"...can we do this more often, when you want to relax?"
Your eyes widen with a surprised blush at all the question as your brain shorts out for a moment.
He really...he's really willing to make this a regular thing? He isn't just doing this to humor you? It seems almost impossible to believe that this isn't some kind of weird burden you'd pushed onto him.
"...yeah. I'd- 'd like that."
You mumble breathlessly, clearing your throat as you look down.
He's already looking for another command, a simple task he can praise you for. Something about telling you what to do - you, who could slit his throat in an instant - he's quickly figuring out that he likes it. Quite a bit, actually.
He thinks back to the little things he's noticed about you- you prefer standing with your back to walls, facing the exit of whatever room you're in. You can only fall asleep when someone else on the crew is still awake. You're always chewing toothpicks, sucking on the end of your pen-
Wait.
Do you have an- could he- maybe...?
He hums in thought, grin spreading wider as he looks down at you once more. Gently, he lifts your chin so you're looking directly at him.
"Open your mouth," He instructs softly, almost in a whisper. Curious.
A soft blush blossoms across your ears but other than that you don't question it, far enough into subspace that all that matters is following instructions, being good. You don't even think before parting your lips obediently, looking up at him with those pretty doe eyes. Like he hung the moon and the stars in the sky.
Bingo.
It was an oral fixation, your constant need to suck on a toothpick or the end of your pen. He couldn't fully understand, but he could relate- he always felt safer with a cigarette in his mouth.
He gently pushes his thumb in your mouth, taking a deep breath as he waits for your reaction to the audacious move. You wanted him to make you feel small, safe, vulnerable. He's more than happy to do that for you.
At your service, now and always.
Your blush spreads out to your cheeks and your eyes widen a fraction in surprise, but as soon as you manage to process that he really just did that, you close your lips gently around his thumb, eyes glazing over as you look up at him for approval.
You're so beautiful when you're like this, all raw and vulnerable and desperate to be good. He hums, eyes glued to you with a loving gaze as he takes in just how stunning you are in this moment.
"Submission suits you." He praises softly, his voice almost a whisper. "You're so...so sweet like this. So lovely when you don't think so much, puppy."
The last word is meant jokingly, gently poking fun at the way you're kneeling next to him, head on his thigh. Your reaction, though...that throws him. The way you squeeze your eyes closed and your blush darkens to a pure pink when he calls you "puppy", the way he can feel you whine around his thumb at the term as you melt, shoulders slumping- and that's certainly interesting, isn't it?
"Aww, puppy likes that, doesn't she?"
He can't help but smile as he takes his thumb out of your mouth for a moment before pushing two fingers in instead. Your cheeks flush when he does so, those puppy dog eyes glancing back at him with so much emotion it's almost overwhelming. The name is fitting, he supposes.
You flush further with embarrassment, though you know it makes no logical sense. Your mind doesn't seem to want to quiet itself, echoing judgements of your current position- weak, needy, pathetic. The shy feeling of poorly restrained shame claws up your chest even as you try to dismiss it. You shouldn't feel so embarrassed by this- Sanji clearly isn't bothered by it, doesn't think it's odd, hell, if anything he seems like he's enjoying himself. Yet you, brain all tied up in knots, can't seem to look at him.
So instead you try to focus on other things, like the comforting contrast of the warmth from his fingers and the cool metal of his ring pressing down softly on your tongue.
He can sense the embarrassment from you, though he can't understand it. He'd seen you at your worst, and this certainly wasn't it.
"...there's nothing wrong with allowing someone to take care of you, you know. I actually quite like seeing you like this." He says, the words falling out of his mouth before he even thinks.
Almost as if they'd been waiting to come out this whole time.
His reassurance only makes your blush intensify, but this time it's not bad.
It isn't shame, not really. It's more pleasantly flustering. If embarrassment were a spectrum, this...feeling would fall on the 'good' end of it.
Sensing it's a vulnerable topic, he lets the reassurance hang, not giving you enough time to think about it before changing the subject with a fond, knowing chuckle.
"You like the ring, don't you?"
He doesn't say, 'it gives you something to focus on so your mind doesn't wander too far' or 'the temperature brings you back down and grounds you here away from those nasty thoughts', but you both know that's what it is.
There's something warm in the way he so nonchalantly reveals that he's been cataloging every little detail of your reactions- the spot behind your ears, the fact you like being called 'puppy', and now the fact that you like the feeling of his ring pressing down on your tongue. Your mind is in enough of a submissive haze that you can't bring yourself to lie to him, instead nodding your head in agreement.
A small, fond smile graces his lips as his thumb moves up to your lower lip, gently prodding at your chin to bring your attention back to him.
"You can take breaks if you want. I know the ring's cold."
His voice is a warm, intimate whisper, eyes watching every movement you make, every twitch and hum catalogued in his mind.
The care in it makes your heart feel warm and you keep his fingers where they are, nipping lightly at him for a moment as if to let him know without words that you're enjoying this, that you don't need a break. It's so fucking cute his heart melts.
He can't help himself any more, pulling his fingers from your mouth. You nearly whine at the loss but then - then, oh, then - he presses a small, soft kiss to your lips and the whole world falls apart, his lips pressed tenderly to you as if you're something so much more than the sum of your parts. Your mind works on overdrive- it's such pure affection and approval and he kissed you, so that means you must've been good, right? That he was proud?
Little do you know, he's just as in awe as you are. In awe that you're really here with him, like this. That you'd ever let him do this. Everything about you is special to him, special because it's yours. Just like your eyes, the sound of your voice, the heart beating erratically in your chest. Before he can think about it he's pulling his ring off his finger, wiping the remains of your spit from it, and sliding it gently on your ring finger.
You cock your head up at him and squint in confusion and he smiles, voice soft like he's afraid anything stronger than a whisper would break the moment he's worked so hard for.
"Keep it, puppy. Then, next time you...need my help like this, you can give it back to me. Yeah?"
He punctuates his words by lifting your hand up like it's precious, placing a feather-light kiss to your knuckles.
The promise sparks a warmth in your chest, the casual mention of "next time" like there's no doubt at all in his mind that there will be a next time, the way he touches you like you're fragile, stares at you with pink cheeks and blown eyes like you're the sun and the moon and all the pinpoints in the night sky.
You should've jumped overboard when you had the chance, you think, because you've ended up drowning either way.
Eventually you can convince your muscles to work enough to nod, face blooming in fireworks of pink and orange and red as your words come back to you, though your voice is still small and hazy and breathless.
"...yeah, okay. Next time."
621 notes · View notes
lovlive · 17 days
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ midnight insomnia' - c.yj
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SYNOPSIS - its the middle of the night and you have 2 problems; no.1 you cant sleep, and no.2 you miss your boyfriend. PAIRING - choi yeonjun x f!reader GENRE - fluff, established relationship WARNINGS - reader is depicted with a pink colour, reader is called ‘baby’ and ‘girlfriend’, just yeonjun and y/n being really cute with eachother <3 requested from anon: hi! i dont think you've posted yet, maybe your busy or just dont know what to write about since your a new blog, but i want to put in a req.. could you do reader x yeonjun with the prompt “i can’t sleep, come to my bed” id actually die AAH im so curious what you could turn this into, thanks :}
notes: thanku sm for the req! yeah, i havent been writing yet since my brain was blank tbh i had no ideas for a fanfic in mind 😭😭 but now youve added fuel to my fire and ill try start writing more often :3 (and yes, the 127 in the fic was on purpose)
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The moon cast a soft glow through the small sliver between your curtains, painting the room in hues of silver. In the quiet of the night, you tossed and turned under your soft blanket, unable to find solace in slumber. As you battled with your insomnia, you just couldnt keep your mind off of one thing; Yeonjun. You couldnt stop thinking about the way he would hold you through these chilly early-spring nights, and how much you missed his warm body next to yours. At this point you’ve realised just how starved you were from him despite only seeing him a couple of days ago.
You gave up on your slumber, rolling like a log from one side of your bed to another to pick up your phone. The sharp glow from the screen hit your eyes, your face instinctively scrunching up since you werent used to the brightness. Your fingers lazily glided over to the message app icon, and then tapped on Yeonjun’s contact. The time at the side of the screen caught your eye, and your realised it was 1:27 AM. You were a little weary of texting your boyfriend at this late hour; you knew that he was probably tired after a long day of practicing and you didnt want to seem selfish or too clingy. But you shook off your bad feelings since you knew that Yeonjun wasnt the type to be able to fall asleep easily either. You began to type your messages…
“jjunieeee..”
“baby… ☹️”
As expected, Yeonjun was of course awake. Your one word messages were opened by him a minute later. He looked at the texts, a little confused on why you’d be texting him right now. Any how, he started typing back.
“y/n? why’re you still up. you better not be up to some weird shi 😐”
“jjunie, i cant sleep. come to my bed.”
“baby, its half 1 in the morning.”
“please..😔 i really cant sleep and i need sum1 by my side 😞”
“y/n you’re going to be the death of me... but what wouldnt i do for my beautiful girlfriend”
“ill be there in 5”
“yippee! 😇 i love you ❤️”
“love you more baby ❤️”
Your face lit up as your boyfriend agreed to come over. You immediately put your phone back on your side table and plugged it back into charging, then quickly tossed the dirty socks that were lying on your bedroom floor underneath your bed to appear a little tidier. After a little while, you could hear a quiet knock echo through your small apartment; your face lighting up once again. Your feet quickly brought you to your hallway, where you rummaged your drawer for your keys. Eventually finding them, you jammed the correct key into the keyhole, twisiting it and gently opening the door. As your boyfriend appears from behind the door, you immediately pull him into a hug, shutting the door behind him. “Whats up with you today?” He teases as he feels your arms lock around him tightly, wrapping his arms around your waist in response. “Just missed you baby.” You responded, taking in his soft scent which you missed badly. “Y/n, we just saw eachother a few days ago..” His chuckle landed right in your ear, warm breath brushing right up against your ear. The sensation of course did not fail to make you blush a little. “Yeah, but ‘just a few days ago’ feels like an eternity to me.” You whisper into his shoulder, finding comfort in just burrying your face in his shoulder and hiding from the world. You feel his hands come away from your waist and up to your back, rubbing small circles. “You really arent a patient person, are you? Now, lets get you to bed.” He whispers as he takes your hand in his and begins to lead you over to your bedroom. You obviously dont resist, and grip his hand back as you walk behind him. None of you made a sound as you walked to your bedroom. Both of your social batteries were drained from the long day you’ve survived today, and all you wanted to do was to hold eachother in peace as you tried to fall back into a slumber.
You walk into your bedroom, and Yeonjun leads you straight to your bed. He lets you crawl in and under the covers as he takes off his jacket and throws it onto the chair you have by your desk. He came just wearing his pajamas, since he knew all you were going to do together was snuggle and sleep. He climbs onto your bed, arms wrapping tightly around your body as your face hides in his chest. His hand runs through your soft hair in a consoling manner, trying to get you to feel more tired and sleepy. His hands work like magic, your eyes beginning to feel heavier by the minute. But before you fall asleep, you give his hand a gentle squeeze and manage to whisper a set of three familiar words.
“I love you.”
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andreafmn · 1 year
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Truth | Embry Call
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Word Count: 5.4K Paring: Embry Call x Female!Reader Requested: Yes [@come-on-darling-honey | @treatiseofselena | @pinkdragonfandream-blog] Story Description: Embry and (Y/N) getting together was inevitable, and it seemed that the universe concurred. A/N: The requests didn't have any details so I grouped them together (hope that's okay.) I've never gravitated toward Embry so at first I had no idea what or how to write this.But I hope I did him justice with this fluffy friend-to-lovers. Now, I will definitely post more about him because I fell in love with my version of him 🤭🤭 Also, I'm trying to organize myself and my writing to upload more consistently, but chronic illnesses, family, and life always get in the way. Thank you to all of you who have bear with me for so long 🤍🤍 My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing or buy me a coffee TikTok • Instagram • Business | MASTERLIST If you’d like to be tagged in any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!
Truth | Embry Call Oneshot
For the longest time, it had always been Jake, Quil, Embry, and (Y/N). The four of them had been friends since their childhood and had quickly become inseparable. If one was in sight, the probability that the other three were close behind was high. The group was simply thick as thieves. 
But there were two in particular that grew closer than the others. 
(Y/N) and Embry seemed to gravitate toward each other. Even when the four friends were together, the duo would be standing side-by-side. They understood each other in a way that Jake and Quil did not. Even without words, they could speak a language that no one else could understand. 
“You guys should just get together already,” Jacob had teased one day. “I mean, we all know it’s gonna happen sooner or later. Any day now you’ll tell us you’re a couple.”
“Oh please, Jake,” Quil laughed. “These two would be single their whole lives before they admit they like each other.” 
(Y/N) had thrown pieces of popcorn at them, chuckling dryly at their statements. “We’re just friends, guys,” she retorted. “With that logic, you and Quil should get together too.” 
“It’s just a joke, (Y/N). There’s no need to get so pissed.” 
“I’m not,” she quickly defended. “It’s just annoying that you guys bother us so much about it.” 
At that moment, Embry walked into the living room. He was quiet, as always, but vigilant. His eyes fell quickly onto (Y/N)’s. He could tell in an instant that something —more like someone— had made her feel embarrassed. 
“Guys, leave her alone already,” he quickly defended. “Can we not go one night without you guys bothering her?” 
“You don’t even know what happened!” Jake whined. “You always take her side.” 
“Well, 99% of the time you guys did actually do something to her,” Embry responded. “And I would bet everything I have that it’s not a 1% kind of occasion.” 
Quick and Jake slouched into the sofa, crossing their arms over their chests in defeat. Even though they were all similar in age, there was a sense of maturity in Embry that was unparalleled. At the end of the day, he was the voice of reason within the group. 
“There we go again. Her knight in shining armor,” Jake grumbled. “And they say they don’t have a thing for each other.” 
After the movies were done, Quil had long gone, and Jake mumbled something about going to bed, Embry offered to walk (Y/N) home. It was something he had accustomed to doing but it still made her stomach do a turn on itself. 
“So, what were those idiots talking about?” 
“The usual,” she sighed. Her hand was inches away from his. A simple stumble and she could have intertwined them. “How one day you and I will become a couple because of how well we get on.” 
“Oh,” he said coyly. 
“I know I should be used to it by now, but it can get pretty annoying, pretty fast.” 
Embry’s heart started to race as he listened to her words. He knew just how infuriating their friends could be, especially when it came to bothering people. But it only upset him because he did like her. 
At some point in time, his best friend had turned into the girl that he loved. She had become the protagonist of all of his fantasies, the reason for having a smile on his face, what he looked forward to every day. Somehow, she had become his center.  
“Why do you find it annoying?” Embry managed to croak out, suddenly finding his hands more interesting than the road ahead. “Like would it be that terrible?” 
“No,” she answered quickly. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was repulsed by him. Because all she wanted was him. 
Much like Embry, she didn’t know when that shift had happened. He was her best friend, her closest confidant, the only person that knew her better than she knew herself. But somewhere along the line, her heart would flutter at his nearness, a smile painted on her face at the mention of his name, her eyes trailed to his in every room they were in. 
“I don’t, uh. I don’t think it would be terrible,” she spoke meekly. “Do you?”
They stopped in their tracks, finally facing each other. 
“I could never find being with you terrible,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. With a surge of bravery, his hand lifted to her face, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “It would honestly be a dream come true.” 
(Y/N) gasped quietly at the sudden touch. Her breath hitched in her throat and her hand flew to grasp at his forearm. “Embry, w-what… what’re you saying?” 
“I like you, (Y/N), and I have for a long time,” he told her. His brown eyes stared intensely into hers, looking for any sign that he was losing her. “I’m not sure when it happened but one day you slipped into my head and you have not left it since. That’s why it doesn’t bother me. Because deep down I’ve always hoped that day would come.” 
“Embry, I…” She stammered searching for her words, but nothing came out. 
“I understand if you don’t feel the same way,” he said sadly. “But I had to tell you already. It’s been eating me up inside for a long time and I had to confess before it consumed me completely.”
“No, Embry, I do,” she choked on her words, feeling the knot in her throat tightening as she spoke. Even if he was saying exactly what she had wanted to hear, emotions overwhelmed her. “God, I like you too. For a while now. I just never had the courage to say anything because I didn’t want to lose your friendship. You mean a lot to me.” 
“So we’ve been tip-toeing around each other for no reason then?” Embry laughed. “Are we seriously that oblivious to feelings?” 
“It appears so,” she responded with a chuckle. “What does this mean for us, Em? Where do we go from here?” 
“Well, first, I was thinking I could kiss you,” he smiled. “Can I?”
“I would die if you didn’t.” 
His hands cradled her face softly, his thumbs caressing over the apex of her cheekbones. He nuzzled his nose against hers, teasing her lips with his. He ghosted over the pink of her skin, wishing to the gods that he wasn’t in another one of his dreams. 
When he finally gave in, his lips crashed into hers and he could swear he felt the earth around him stop. There was no gravity, no air, no cold or warmth, it was simply him and (Y/N), and that was all that existed on Earth. 
“What’re we gonna tell the guys?” (Y/N) said as soon as they parted for air. “They’ll never let us live this down. And, honestly, I don’t think I could stand their pestering once they know they were right.” 
“We don’t have to tell them,” he responded, intertwining his hand with hers comfortingly as they continued their walk to her home. “We can have this just for ourselves for the time being. It will be our little secret.” 
“As much as I would love to shout it from the rooftops,” she smiled brightly. “But I like this too. Having something that is just for us. Something they can’t ruin.” 
“That does sound great, actually.” 
“Good. Because I don’t want anyone to ruin this. Especially not those two.” 
And for a couple of months, it was perfect. To their friends, it was business as usual. They were as friendly as ever, always by each other’s side, and taking Quil and Jake’s teasing with a grain of salt. No one could have known just how true their jokes had become. 
They got around with stolen glances, hidden corners, and nights. And how they loved their nights. They would spend hours curled up in each other’s arms after Embry would sneak into her room. They would talk about nothing and everything, they would sleep, and they would kiss. 
It was an easy routine to follow and they fell into it quickly and perfectly. In the morning, they were the best of friends. At night, they were falling more and more in love. 
At least, that’s what (Y/N) had thought.
She had fallen for him. Deeply. He meant everything to her and she thought the feeling was mutual. But when the first week of the second semester of their junior year came to a start and Embry had disappeared, she knew something was wrong. 
Not only had he missed school, but he also had completely iced out Jake, Quil, and, most importantly, (Y/N). He wouldn’t answer her calls, he stopped coming over, and he was nowhere to be found. Even his mother had told her that he wasn’t acting like himself and she was very surprised at his behavior. 
What none of them knew —what she didn’t know— was that Embry was going through the most surreal of transformations. He wanted to tell his friends, he wanted to tell her everything. 
Yet, bringing them into a world where the stories the elders told around the bonfire were real was something he could not do. Even if it meant that they never talked again, he would make sure to keep them safe from the dangers they did not know were real. 
He did everything he could to avoid (Y/N) specifically. He would never say it, or even think it now, but he was scared he’d do to her what Sam had accidentally done to Emily. Love wouldn’t protect her from what he was and what he could do to her. Avoiding her hurt, but not as much as it would if he did anything to her. 
But that Friday, after he had missed a whole week of school and he’d expertly avoided his group of friends for the past four days, everything had changed. As Embry walked the halls, careful not to run into any of his three friends, his eyes caught hers. 
That’s when it happened. The moment that changed his entire world. It hadn’t been meeting his friends, it hadn’t been his first kiss with (Y/N), and it hadn’t been his first phase as a shapeshifter. It was the universe telling him that it was her, and it would always be her. 
And it scared him. 
As she tried to move through the sea of students to get to him, all he could do was run away. Though deep down he hoped it was her once he knew what imprinting was, his fears of repeating history had grown. 
“Embry!” He heard her call out. “ Embry, wait!” 
But he was already out the doors and running to the only place he could think of. His brain was going a million miles a minute and his heart was tugging at his chest, begging to be with the piece that was missing from it. 
He opened the door to the small house, hoping anyone was inside. His breathing was staggered and his chest was hammering. He was panicking and had no idea how to make it stop. 
“Woah, Embry,” Sam called out. “I’m gonna need you to calm down, okay? You’ve gotta breathe, Call. Breathe.” 
“She’s… and I didn’t… I don’t,” he tried to speak. 
“Slow down, Embry.” 
“I can’t… I can’t do this to her,” the boy managed to croak out. “Not her.” 
“Is this about you imprinting today?”
“How did you…?” 
“Mind link, Embry,” the alpha reminded him. “I know everything that happens to you. Who is she?”
Embry sighed deeply, taking a seat at the dining table. “She’s my best friend,” he said. “And these past few months she became so much more.”
“She’s your girlfriend then?” 
“Well, we never labeled it as much,” he responded. “But kind of. Yeah.”
“Then why are you so worried? This is the best-case scenario.” 
“I don’t want to put her in danger. And her knowing the truth would put her right in the middle of it.” 
“And you don’t want what happened to Emily to happen to her,” Sam said softly. Embry’s eyes went wide as he realized what the man had said, quickly struggling to find a redeeming answer. “Don’t worry, Call. I wouldn’t want that to happen to anyone, for that matter. And as scary as it is to tell her the truth, you have to. As the days go by, you will both find it harder and harder to keep away from each other. It will be physically painful to stay apart.” 
“I can’t do that to her. She deserves to be safe,” he silently sobbed. “The further away she is from me, the better it will be for her. I can’t hurt her if I’m not with her.” 
Sam couldn’t help but feel pity for the boy. He had been in that very position not too long ago, running from the people he loved, fearing the hurt he could cause them. But he also knew how he could cause just as much pain by staying away. 
“Look, Embry, I won’t tell you what you have to do,” he said. “But speaking from experience, running away does more harm than good. Whether you like it or not, she is now a part of this world and the best way to protect her is by telling her the truth. Unlike with your mom, the secret of our tribe has to be shared with our imprints. She’s gonna need to understand why it hurts so much to stay away from you.” 
“What if things go bad?” Embry asked dolefully. “What if telling her pushes her away regardless?” 
“That is just something you’ll have to leave to chance,” Sam sighed. “But if you need any backup if you choose to tell her, you know Emily and I are here and happy to help.” 
“Thanks, Sam,” the boy responded. “But I think this is something I have to do by myself. I’m gonna tell her tonight and hope for the best.” 
“Well, I’ll be doing patrol tonight. So, if at my point you need me, just call out.”
---
“Wait, you actually saw him here?” Jake asked that afternoon as the three friends left the school. “I heard he was back but I have not seen him the whole week.” 
“He was standing in the middle of the hallway this morning and I tried to get to him,” (Y/N) explained. “But he ran away and literally disappeared. What the hell is going on with him?” 
“Apparently he’s been sneaking out of his house for a while now,” Quil added, making (Y/N)’s heart wrench in her chest. “And his mom says he wasn’t home that week he skipped school.” 
“I heard he’s been hanging out with Sam Uley’s gang,” Jake whispered. “That could explain why he’s acting so weird. He got involved with some shady shit.”
“Guys, this is Embry we’re talking about,” the girl defended, holding onto any hope that he was still the boy she loved. “Do you really think he would do something like that?” 
“You keep trying to defend your little boyfriend but it’s clear he wants nothing to do with any of us,” Jake spat. 
“He’s our friend, Jake,” (Y/N) seethed. “Sorry for actually believing there might be something else happening other than he might have joined a dangerous gang and has left us for dead.” 
“(Y/N)…”
“Whatever, guys. I’ll see you on Monday.”
She left both boys dumbfounded and disappeared into her home. Once inside she crashed against her front door and allowed the tears that were stinging her eyes to flow free. 
(Y/N) couldn’t accept that she had truly lost Embry. She couldn’t admit that she had fallen for someone that could act like she meant nothing to them, that could forget every moment they spent together, that could ignore everything they had admitted to her. She had trusted him with her heart and he had decided to shatter it without another thought. 
Somehow she had made her way to her bedroom and had crashed on her bed. When her eyes fluttered open again the sun had completely set and the moon was shining brightly in the sky. In the darkness, she searched for her phone, feeling the need to apologize to Quil and Jake for snapping at them. 
Yet, her screen lit up with Embry’s caller ID, showing her that it was the fifth call in the last twenty minutes. She debated answering the phone, wanting to make him feel just like she had the last two weeks. 
But her resolution was too weak.
“What?” (Y/N) spat. 
“Come to your window.” 
She walked to her window, her gaze falling on his figure on the road. Tears were quick to form in the corners of her eyes, her emotions close to their bursting point. “What do you want, Embry?” she asked through the phone, careful to keep her voice from cracking. “It’s late.” 
“I know, but I really need to talk to you, (Y/N).”
“So, you show up after two weeks of dead silence. Your hair is all chopped up, you’ve got a tattoo, and apparently, you’ve been hanging with Sam Uley’s gang. And you just come here and tell me now you wanna talk,” she scoffed. “Give me one reason why I should give you the time of day after all that?” 
“I know I don’t deserve another chance and you have every right to turn me away right now,” he told her. “But I promise if you give me a couple of minutes I can explain everything to you. After that, you can decide what you want to do. Please, (Y/N).” 
She kept quiet for a second, knowing that she didn’t have much to think about. Her heart knew exactly what she would answer before she could say it out loud. “Fine,” she said. “You’ve got ten minutes.” 
“Alright,” he smiled. “Come down.”
She couldn’t help the eagerness that overtook her as she wrapped a jacket around her and silently slipped out the door. And once she was face to face with him, it took everything in her not to run and wrap her arms around Embry. 
“Hey,” he smiled softly at her. “Been a while.” 
“Not really in the mood for jokes, Embry,” she responded. “I came out here to hear you explain. So explain.” 
“Okay, but I’m gonna need us to move into the woods.” 
“I’m not going into the woods with you, Em. Just tell me already.”
“Look, I know this is weird but I need you to trust me, okay?” he asked giving her those puppy dog eyes that she had missed so much. The same eyes he’d give her when he begged for a kiss or when he pleaded for a couple of more minutes away from their friends. “Please.” 
“Fine,” she sighed. “But your time is down to eight minutes.” 
“Alright. Just, come on.” 
Without thinking, he took hold of her hand, leading her to the darkness of the woods, searching for a place where no passersby could accidentally see him. 
(Y/N) found herself allowing him to drag her, remembering just how comforting his warmth was. Especially on such a cold night in January, it surprised her just how high his temperature felt. 
Once they were deep enough and Embry had halted them to a stop, she forced herself to drop his hand. She didn’t want him to forget the anger that still rushed through her veins, the disappointment that had found a home in her heart, and the hurt that she felt in every inch of her body. 
“Go ahead,” she told him, crossing her arms across her chest to keep them from reaching toward him. 
“Alright, first of all, I want to apologize for disappearing like that. It wasn’t fair to you or the guys. But you need to understand that I couldn’t tell you at the beginning,” he started. “(Y/N), what I’m about to tell you is gonna sound like the biggest lie you have heard, and you might even think that I’ve lost my mind. Still, everything I say is the honest truth.”
“Em, you’re scaring me,” she responded. “What’re you talking about?” 
Embry took a deep breath, finding every ounce of strength to be able to finally tell her the truth, to wrap her in the web of the supernatural and hope he was strong enough to keep her from the dangers of it. “Okay, I’m gonna need you to think back to all the stories our parents and the elders would tell us around the bonfire,” he said. “How our Quileute ancestors were shapeshifters and how it was their job to protect our land. When we were kids we thought that those were only stories, myths to keep us children entertained. But it’s real, (Y/N). Those stories weren’t just fantasies, they are our history. 
“The reason I disappeared was because I am now one of those shapeshifters. It happened the Saturday before starting school, at the back-to-school bonfire, when that guy was hitting on you when I walked away for a second,” he continued. His eyes never left hers, hoping —begging— that she believed him. “It happened so suddenly and I thought I was dying. I could feel anger taking over my entire body, filling me with this overheating rush that burned deep inside. 
“It was Jared Cameron that found me. He pulled me into the woods and I was so angry that I couldn’t even process what was happening. He kept telling me to give in to the change to listen to my body and allow it to do what it needed to. Suddenly, my clothes were ripped to shreds and I was this huge wolf. 
“After, Sam Uley and Paul Lahote joined him and walked me through shifting back, telling me to focus on my human form. It felt like everything around me was shaking, reacting to the way my body was transforming. And somehow, at just the right moment, I changed back into my human self. 
“I spent that week learning to control my emotions so I wouldn’t trigger a phase in front of everyone, learning about our history and our role in the rez. It turns out, those guys aren’t a gang, they’re actually a pack and our job is to protect the reservation from anything, supernatural or not, that threatens our land. No one can know about our existence other than the elders and current pack members.” 
“Wait, I don’t get it,” she stammered, her head spinning with all the information she was given. “This whole talk about wolves and supernatural beings… it’s crazy, Embry! A completely convoluted way of telling me it’s over.” 
“I can show you,” he added. “Just don’t move even an inch from where you are right now.” 
“What’re you…? Embry.” 
He put some distance between them, making sure he was safely away from her. He removed his shirt and unbuttoned his pants, ensuring his clothes were close enough when he phased back. He knew just how impossible everything he had said sounded. If he hadn’t phased that night, there was no way he would have believed it. 
But he needed her to believe him. 
One second he was standing before her in human form, and the next, a tall gray wolf with black spots was staring her down. She stumbled back as her eyes met the animal’s, a slight rush of fear flowing through her veins. 
Yet, she knew those brown eyes too well to be afraid for long. They were unmistakably Embry’s and they replaced her anxiety with a calming stream.  Something about him was calling to her, beckoning her to come closer. There was no danger, there was no panic, there was only calm. 
(Y/N) made her way closer to the creature, every step filling her with courage. The wolf didn’t move, his eyes simply followed her, waiting. Because he was the tactable answer to all of her questions. 
Her shaking hand raised and landed on the soft fur of the wolf’s head. As soon as she made contact, Embry nudged it, giving her the confirmation she was looking for. It was him and it was all true.
“You’re a wolf,” she softly chuckled. “You’re in front of me right now and you’re a giant wolf.” 
Embry let out a confirming growl that sounded almost like a laugh and nuzzled his nose against her. The small force knocked her back softly, siphoning from her the laugh he had missed hearing. 
“But if no one is supposed to know about you guys, why are you telling me all this?” (Y/N) asked before realizing he could not answer in his form. “Change back already. I have so many questions.” 
In the blink of an eye, Embry stood before her, scrambling to get dressed. “This is the most awkward part of phasing back,” he chuckled dryly. “It’s worse when you’re surrounded by guys you barely know.”
“Yeah, I can imagine,” she sympathized. “Now, why me? Why am I the only one that you’re telling this to? Jake and Quil truly believe you’ve joined a gang and left us in the dust.” 
“Well, as with most things, there is an exception to the rules. One person that is allowed to know everything, even if they’re not members of the pack,” he explained slowly. “There’s something that happens after your shift that involves that person. It’s called imprinting. I’m the most basic definition: it's a soulmate. You are unconditionally bound to this person for the rest of your life, becoming whatever it is that they need from you —a sibling, a friend, a partner. Anything. 
“Your whole world changes,” he continued, his hands taking hers. “They become your gravity, your very reason for living. Even being apart feels physically painful. Everything falls secondary to them, and all it takes is one look.”
“This morning,” she breathed. (Y/N) had felt something change when they had locked eyes in the hall. His absence had become a harrowing pit in her stomach. “But I…”
“The bond affects the imprint as well,” Embry answered before she could ask. “But nothing happens without them wanting it. You are only what the imprint wants.”
“So it’s me,” she said, trying to hold back tears, her eyes falling to where their hands were clasped. “Is that why you ran away this morning? Because you imprinted on me? Was it… did you not want it to be me?” 
“No! I mean yes! I wanted it to be you,” he rapidly scrambled for his response. “But I was afraid of what the implications of you being my imprint would be.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“First of all, I could never forgive myself if I was the reason you were ever in danger,” Embry started, his hand cradling her cheek to lift her gaze to his, wiping away the strand that had fallen. “But what I was most afraid of was that it would make you feel things that you might not have felt had it not been for this supernatural intervention.”
“I’m not following, Em.” 
“Look, (Y/N), I love you —I’m in love with you. And I have been for a long time,” he confessed. “And even though I know you like me and we spent all this time together, I was afraid that if you felt more for me it would be because of the imprint bond and not really how you would have felt without it.” 
Finally, it was her turn to comfort him. “Em, I think I’ve loved you since the moment we met,” she grinned. “I don’t need a supernatural link to tell me how I have felt about you for the majority of my life. And I understand why you had to keep all of this from us. As much as I would love for Jake and Quil to know how much of an amazing badass my boyfriend is, we know how well I can keep a secret.”
Embry’s eyes opened wide at the word, loving how it sounded coming from her lips. “Boyfriend? You called me your boyfriend!” 
“Is that not what you are?” 
“Yes. Yes! And you’re my girlfriend!” he exclaimed as he hugged her waist tightly, twirling her in a hug. “God, being without you has made this the worst two weeks of my life.”
“I can tell,” she teased. “I mean you lost my favorite thing about you. I’m really gonna miss your hair.” 
“Unless you braid the wolf’s hair, I’m afraid we’re stuck with the short hair for a while.” 
“I can work with that as long as you don’t ever disappear like that again.” 
“I promise I will never willingly do that,” he responded. “I can assure you these past two weeks have been hell.” 
“Well, we won’t have that time back. But we can make sure we don’t lose any more.”
“I like the sound of that,” he grinned.
He placed both hands on either side of (Y/N)’s face, nuzzling his nose to hers as he had done the first time they kissed. He breathed in her scent. He listened to the patter of her heart, to the sound of her breath. He took her in completely at the moment, memorizing how she looked when they told each other they loved one another. 
“Are you gonna make me wait?” she let out a strangled breath. “Or are you gonna kiss me already?” 
“You waited two weeks already,” he teased. 
“So I’ve waited long enough,” she bit back. “Now kiss me, you dork.” 
Finally, he crashed his lips onto hers and everything felt like it had fallen where it was supposed to. There had never been secrets between them, and, now, there never had to be any more. The universe had simply confirmed what they already felt. 
---
“Well, Quil, looks like you’re gonna have to pay up, my man,” Jake joked a couple of months after that fateful night. All discord between the friends had died the second the boys that were kept in the dark phases as well. “I told you these two had been together for a while.” 
“No, you owe me,” he retorted. “They got together closer to the timeline I had set.” 
“Actually,” Embry interjected, his arm draped over (Y/N)’s shoulders. “If you look at the board of bets, you’ll see that I had put down the actual date and time that we got together.” 
“But that’s not fair! When we made that bet board we had no idea you two were actually together,” Quil whined. “There’s no way that should be an admissible bet.” 
“Not knowing the facts doesn’t exempt you from it,” (Y/N) chuckled. “A bet that falls under the set rules for that pile will remain intact, even if it’s under a loophole.”
“Of course you’ll say that, (Y/N),” Jake scoffed. “He’s your boyfriend after all.” 
“Don’t forget imprintee,” she grinned. “Now, both of you, cough up those twenty bucks.” 
Later that afternoon and forty bucks richer, (Y/N) and Embry sat in the Uley’s backyard, watching the other boys playing football farther away from the bonfire Sam had started. They had curled up together under a blanket, enjoying the fact that they were together, and the world seemed to grant them a day of peace. 
“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Embry whispered into her ear, pressing her tighter to him. “Because I do. So much.” 
“Hm,” she smiled, melting into his touch. “You’ve told me once or twice. But I’ll never get tired of hearing it. Because I love you too.”
“And I’ll never get tired of saying it.” 
“Good,” she beamed. “Because you’re stuck with me until the end.” 
“Couldn’t think of a better life than that.” 
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ixiot-ghostrebel · 1 year
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Hi darling today i am into angst (idk why) so this is my ask
So, creator reader was tortured and killed (by literaly everyone) so when she comes back TRAUMATIZATED OF DEATH she doesn't speaks to anyone, she doesn't scream if she is angry or so, she just cries until the persons who hurt her are not near her. She also has a fav tea(you choose darling), a comfort meal (you choose again) and a COMFORT PLUSHIE(it can be any plushie sweetie) who gets carried in the creators arms
What do you think darling?
✧*。٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و✧*。
Ooh, super cute idea, anon! Angst it shall be, though I can't promise I'll be any good at it lol- And sorry, idk if you want Fem!Reader, but I mainly do GN!Reader so- :')
Also, before anyone gets confused or I have to use repetitive words:
F/T = Favorite Tea F/F = Favorite Food/Meal
As for the plush, I'll simply use the basic teddy bear. I know, kind of plain—but tbh I kind of like it so we're keeping it, bois.
I hope you enjoy this oneshot!
Disclaimers! This Oneshot includes: Bad Grammar, Spelling Mistakes, Angst, Mentions of Trauma/PTSD, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of torture (briefly), & Arguments.
If you are not okay with these terms, or are facing some sort of mental illness yourself, please skip this story.
Please let me know if I mess a warning!
𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭.
It was over.
It was finally over. You were finally free from that torment—that torture. You knew it the very moment you closed your eyes, and the world went dark.
Yet, Teyvat wasn't letting you go. No, it refused to let you go. You were stuck, in this stupid hellhole you once used as your get-away from reality.
You're stuck in an absolute nightmare you had once dreamed of being in. And you hate how you still feel guilty for hating it.
But, most of all, you hate how you're still stuck in this miserable world. You hate it, you hate it, you hate it.
These "acolytes" of yours were sickening. They kept begging for your attention, no matter how many times you've made it clear that you want nothing to do with them. You felt like you could keel over puking whenever they get down on their knees and beg for forgiveness.
You already forgave them. What were they continuously pestering you for? Isn't forgiveness enough to ask from their victim? The person they hurt the most?
You took a sip out of your F/T, trying to calm your nerves. Your "followers" were all nothing but heartless NPCs, you reason with yourself. You've given them enough.
And yet, you still felt guilty for ignoring them. Their eyes tear up like the day you were killed, after the most, horrible, bloody, and messy—
You shudder, shutting down that thought as best you can. You've drank all of your F/T just thinking about this entire thing to begin with, so you focused on your F/F. Only half of it was eaten.
You take a bite out of it, trying to fight away the tears as you remember another memory during your time in this wretched world. A person, out of nowhere, just straight up yelling at you, threatening you, insulting you...
You hate to feel weak, but at the same time, you feared to be too mean. So you stayed there and took it, praying that this annoying and upsetting person would just go away already.
They eventually do, but it felt too long. Your heart was broken, and your eyes just shed a tear or two. You were glad you had your teddy bear in your bag, as you cuddled it to your chest in that spot to make you feel less sad.
Truly, damn this world. Even if your heart couldn't let go just yet.
The End.
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Ghost Rebel Side Notes: I have no idea if I did this good or not but I do hope you like this, anon! And, if anyone's curious for whatever reason, the GIF was chosen because it's like Reader drowning in their memories :')
✦ Check Out the Ghost Rebel's Blog Description to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦
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burntheedges-updates · 9 months
Text
over again, chapter 2
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This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges
Joel Miller x f!reader
summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming. or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it)18+ minors DNI chapter tags/warnings: fluff, light flirting, touching hands, hugs, cold/illness, light angst, a teensy bit of pining, teacher!reader (no specific details given in fic, it’s just your job from Before) a/n: This is Chapter 2: Breaking the Ice. I’ve done my best with the overall TLOU (show) timeline, but I can’t find a timeline that has the specific dates/months that Joel and Ellie passed through Jackson and returned. For the purposes of this fic they pass through in late November, 2023, and come back in April, 2024 (ish). Enjoy. :) word count: 7.4k
series main post | series playlist | ao3 | chapter 1 || chapter 3
Chapter 2: Breaking the Ice
Jackson, Spring 2024
You’ve been in Jackson almost four months when Joel and Ellie return. You have a couple of friends, but it hasn’t really been long enough to establish yourself in the community. You’re a bit of a loner. You mostly talk to Tommy, Maria, and some of the others who work the same jobs you do. Tommy vouched for you, which seems to have given you a real in with some of the people here, but you have to put in the work.
You’re still floating, still trying to settle, and not at all ready to return to teaching. You know Tommy told Maria about what you did Before but neither of them have bugged you about it. The idea of walking into a classroom fills you with both longing and dread and for now you’re still avoiding it completely. You and Tommy have both been surprised at how much you like working outdoors – you were truly an indoors-only person Before. The first time he caught you standing in a pile of horse manure three months ago he doubled over laughing and almost fell in it himself. You’re still getting used to being around someone who knows you so well.
Maria is slowly warming up to you, but she’s been a little distant since she realized stories about what Joel (and Tommy, not that she seems to mind that part) has been up to in the last 20 years don’t seem to phase you. You aren’t good enough friends yet to tell her the things you’ve done, the things you regret and the things you don’t. It’s not like you’ve been an angel yourself. You’re not surprised to learn that Joel did whatever it took to protect people, to survive and save his last remaining family member. You can imagine who he became when he thought you were dead along with Sarah. It’s the same thing that happened to you, after all. The same transformation.
After that first meeting at the gates (when you barely said anything at all to each other before Tommy swept all three of you away, ignoring Ellie’s obvious curiosity and her elbow to Joel’s side as you stared at each other in the road, unmoving) you don’t get a chance to really talk with Joel for a couple of days. You get it – you know Joel, the Dad. He’s settling Ellie in and your heart clenches because you can remember what he was like with Sarah. You haven’t thought about Sarah this much in years. 
(That’s a lie – you think about her every single day. But not like this, with two people nearby who knew her, too. It’s different somehow and it’s making you feel things you thought you’d forgotten how to feel. It’s probably best for you to get over that feeling, that hurt, that initial reaction at a distance. You don’t want it to touch Ellie. She doesn’t know you.)
So Joel and Ellie move back into their house, which happens to be next door to yours because Tommy Miller will stop meddling when he’s dead. You don’t talk to Ellie that first day, but you and Joel make eye contact as he stands on his front porch and you stand in the road where Tommy just left you. His eyes are soft and dark and so familiar (and longed for) that it hurts. He takes a hesitant step towards you and speaks his first real words to you in 20 years. The sound of his voice still sends shivers down your spine.
“Can we– I can’t today, I’m sorry, I have to– Ellie–“
“I know, Joel,” you interrupt. “She needs to settle in, and she doesn’t know who I am. Take care of that first.” When you say his name you see it hit him and pin him in place. It was the same for you back at the gate. You drift a little closer to their porch steps.
“I’ve had a little bit longer to sit with the idea that– that you’re still alive. I’ve been here a few months. I’m not going anywhere, ok? We can talk later. Maybe in a couple of days?”
As you talk he’s searching your face and you feel yourself doing the same. Looking for the person you knew Before. At your offer, he looks relieved. 
“Yeah, darlin’. In a couple of days.” 
You can’t hide your reaction to the endearment or the feeling that washes over you, once-familiar and almost frightening as it echoes from Before. You think he might have surprised himself with it, too. When’s the last time he called anyone that? Maybe the last time you heard it. For a moment you just stare at each other.
It takes Ellie poking her head out the door to jumpstart you both back into action.
Joel heads inside and you head home, but you can hear her start to grill him about you as they close the door. (Who the hell is that?) It makes you smile.
You spend that night staring at the ceiling of your bedroom, completely unable to sleep. Joel is here, alive, probably 50 feet away from you and just knowing that keeps you awake. The following day you move from your house to work and back again in a daze, avoiding the dining hall, trying not to stare at their house or worry that Joel is avoiding you when you don’t see them. By the next morning, two mostly sleepless nights since Joel and Ellie walked through the gates of Jackson, you’re exhausted. You get dressed and find yourself standing in your front hallway, talking yourself down from going to lean on Tommy for some information. It’s only been two days, like 36 hours, get a fucking grip.
It’s convenient, then, that you’re so close to the door when someone unexpectedly knocks on it. As you open it, your heart leaps into your throat. 
Joel Miller is on your porch. He looks flustered and worried. You can tell he’s been running his hands through his hair – it’s messy and going every which way, just like it used to whenever he was anxious about something. The only difference now is the brown is shot through with gray. 
“Joel? Is everything alright?” As soon as the question leaves your mouth you feel a bit of deja vu, but you have no time to analyze the feeling before he steps towards you and you lose track of the thought at his proximity. You step back to let him in.
“I’m sorry, darlin’, I know we need to talk, but Ellie’s come down with something when we got back. I’ve been taking care of her. I didn’t want you to think I’ve been avoiding you.”
He’s twisting his hands together in front of him as he speaks and you notice one is shaking. You almost reach out to rest your hands on top of his to soothe him, but you stop yourself. You’re not ready to touch him like that and you doubt he’s ready to be touched. You clench your hands into fists and hide them behind your back instead. 
“Oh no, is she alright? Do you need anything?” 
You realize as you offer that you don’t know what help you, an outsider, could provide — everything is different than it was Before, when you would have been in the same house helping with the sick child from the start. You haven’t even really been around kids in years. It’s a weird feeling and you’re not sure what to do with it.
Joel shakes his head. “No, we’re fine, Tommy brought some things by yesterday and this morning, she’s already on the upswing.” He crosses his arms and sighs, looking down at the ground between you unhappily. “But I need to go talk to Maria and some others, and Tommy needs to be there with me, and, well. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind sitting with her for a bit?” 
He looks up at you from under his eyelashes, a hesitant look on his face. “Or, um, sitting in the house, just in case she needs something. She’s in bed, you could stay on the couch. I know you don’t know each other yet but I wouldn’t ask anyone else here to do this.” 
It doesn’t escape you that he said yet, that he implied you will get to know Ellie. It wakes something in you, something painful and raw and long-dormant, something you haven’t felt in 20 years. You have the sudden urge to run and hide and you twist your fingers behind your back, willing your feet to stay right where they are. It’s different somehow from the wave of emotion you felt a few months ago, sitting on the ground, tangled in your sleeping bag, shocked at the news that this man was still alive. It’s a feeling you’ve been running from since you realized Sarah must be dead. 
But you’ve basically never said no to this man, not about anything important. You aren’t going to start now.
“Of course, Joel. I’ll follow you over.” That feeling of deja vu is back, and you wonder if he isn’t feeling it too, as he tilts his head at you with a contemplative look on his face. He nods and thanks you and turns to go.
You suddenly realize you’ve been reading his expressions and mannerisms this whole time and you don’t seem to have lost your fluency with it. You wonder if he can still read you just as well, and if he can, what he’s seeing. You’re not sure, yourself. You can’t imagine what you’re giving away.
You shut the door behind him and take a moment, forehead resetting against the wood, to just breathe.
When you arrive at the house next door, Joel calls for you to come in from somewhere upstairs and you take a moment to look around. They haven’t even been there two days and they already have some belongings visible in the living room. The kitchen is in a bit of disarray, the way it normally gets when a kid is sick. That feeling that almost sent you running hits again, like an echo. You close your eyes against the memories of Sarah and you miss Joel reappearing at the top of the stairs until he calls your name softly. 
He’s stopped halfway down the stairs and beckons for you to follow him back up. You do and he leads you down the hall to what is clearly Ellie’s room – he goes straight in and sits beside her on the bed as you linger in the doorway.
“Ellie, this is—“ 
“I know who she is, Joel, you already told me,” she interrupts, rolling her eyes and then coughing a bit. The look of disdain she gives him is so classic teenager it takes your breath away. It’s so easy to recall Sarah doing the same thing. You can picture the same look on her face. 
You breathe slowly through it and hope your reaction doesn’t show. You smile, weakly. Ellie is stone faced in response, and she glances at Joel, looking to him to take the lead. He’s looking at you. You gather yourself. 
“It’s nice to meet you, Ellie, I’m sorry you’re feeling shitty.” She looks a little amused at your description but she doesn’t laugh. She’s clearly wary of you, which is fair. “I’m just going to be downstairs on the couch, call if you need anything, ok?”
With that you turn and head back downstairs, and you can see the relief in her expression as you do. You’re also relieved. She’s not comfortable around strangers, and for you the role of babysitter is sitting uncomfortably on your shoulders like an old coat that you outgrew and haven’t touched in years. You imagine it’s worse for her when she’s not feeling great. 
You hear their low voices for a few minutes and then Joel reappears on the stairs, brow furrowed.
“Are you sure she’s ok with this? I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.” You have to ask.
He looks at you and his brow relaxes, softening a bit. “It’s fine. She’s done nothing but sleep and grill me about you for the last two days, coughing the whole time. She’s just not so great with strangers. I think her curiosity’ll take over, she always wants to know everything. Besides, she’ll probably fall asleep.” You nod as he moves past you towards the door. To your surprise, he reaches out to touch your arm, so softly and briefly you wonder if he even makes contact or if you’re imagining it. You shiver, resisting the urge to hug your arms across your chest. You know it would look like a rejection. “It should only be a couple of hours.”
“We’ll be fine, Joel.” Through the open front door you see Tommy waiting for him outside, and he nods and winks at you before he and Joel make their way towards the center of town. You roll your eyes in response.
You spend the first fifteen minutes after they leave sitting on the couch, staring at the ceiling, thoughts racing. Something about this feels so much like Before it’s making you anxious, but you’re exhausted and you’ve spent 20 years burying or shying away from those memories. You can’t immediately recall why. When it gets to be too much you stand and head into the kitchen, looking for something to do with your hands. Thankfully there’s a pile of dishes waiting for you.
You’re almost done with the dishes, successfully avoiding thinking too hard about Before – or now, or anything at all – when you hear something and turn off the water to listen more closely. You hear your name called softly from upstairs and immediately dry your hands to go see what Ellie needs. 
When you arrive in her doorway she’s sitting up and fidgeting. 
“Hey, what do you need?” You put what is hopefully a neutral and helpful look on your face. You haven’t dealt with a teenager in decades but you remember well how they see through pretense. Sarah never turned down a chance to call any of you on your bullshit. 
She eyes you for a moment, glancing back at her lap where she’s gripping the blanket tightly, before saying, “Can I– Can I ask you some questions? About Before.”
Your eyes widen a little, you can’t help it, but you don’t want to shut her down. Before she can take your expression, whatever it is, as a rejection you say yes and move a little further into the room. She tenses.
“Sorry, I’ll stay over here. Can I get a chair?” She regards you silently for a moment, and then points to the corner to your right where you haven’t looked yet. There’s a chair with a jacket slung over the back. You nod and take a seat. 
“Ask away.”
She’s quiet for a moment, looking like she’s thinking. “So you were going to get married, Before. Right?”
You nod. “Right. Joel proposed in 2002, in December. He meant to do it on New Year’s Eve but he couldn’t wait and proposed early.” Ellie snorts, and then coughs a little bit. You keep yourself from moving towards her to hand her the glass of water on her nightstand. She doesn’t know you. And she’s a teenager, not a little kid. She’s older than Sarah. Don’t think about it.
“That sounds… romantic?” Her tone says that the idea of Joel doing something romantic is so outlandish as to be impossible.
You smile, a little bit sadly. “I know I’m different now, so I imagine he is, too. But he was always a huge romantic. We knew each other for a while before we actually got together, but once we were dating, it was like he couldn’t help it.” You’re suddenly glad you’ve had three months to think about him being alive. This conversation would have felt impossible when you first arrived in Jackson. Now it’s possible, just difficult.
“What, did he like, give you flowers?” The look on her face says she considers this unbelievable and slightly offensive, which reminds you so strongly of 13-year old Sarah you have to take a deep breath. You look away to make it seem like you need to think.
“No, well, he did a few times. But it was other things.”
“Like what?”
“He… well, he took me dancing. For our first date, and then pretty often afterwards.”
“Dancing?” She’s incredulous. “No way, I refuse to believe that old man can dance.” 
You can’t help but grin. “Yeah, dancing. That old man has moves.”
She scoffs and asks what else, clearly moving on from the dancing. For now, you assume.
“Well, we were both bad at remembering dates, but he never let an important date pass without doing something special anyway. He used to do little things for me before I even noticed they needed to be done, especially around the house. He never held back from telling me how he felt. He made it clear how important I was to him, and how much he liked having me in his life, by making space for me in it. I don’t know how much you want to hear about it, but … yeah, the man’s a romantic. No question.” You pause, and smile a little wryly. “Tommy can back me up, and his version’ll probably be way funnier. At our expense.” You feel something inside you start to thaw as you let yourself remember Joel this way.
Ellie looks like she's trying to hide a smile, which you count as a win. Then her expression shifts, and something makes you a little wary with how she sets her shoulders, readying herself to ask another question. 
“D'you want to get back together?” The look on her face says she isn’t sure that’s what she wants. Not at all.
You suddenly feel like you’re on a tightrope. You’re out of breath even though you haven’t moved an inch. You know you have to give the right answer here. But you aren’t even sure what it is for yourself, let alone for Ellie. Before you saw Joel at the gates you’d decided you wouldn’t let this second chance pass you by, but what does that actually mean, practically? For the people you are now?
“Ok, that’s a tough question, and no, I’m not blowing you off. I’m just going to be honest, ok?” You look down, lacing your hands together in your lap. 
“Joel and I were so in love, like head over heels for each other, 20 years ago. We both thought the other person died, and our kid did die. I’m… in shock right now. I think he is, too. I found out he was alive a few months ago, he found out I’m alive two days ago. Nothing feels straightforward or clear." You squeeze your hands together and clear your throat.
“I think we knew each other well enough to know what our lives might have been like in between, what we might have done. Or had to do. Maybe we imagined it sometimes. Um.” You pause to take a deep breath and glance up. Ellie is looking down at her hands. You can’t tell how this is going over with her but you keep going anyway.
“To answer your question… I never stopped loving him. He’s the love of my life. But I can’t say for sure what we’ll do until we talk, which we will at some point. It’s– it’s been too long to assume anything. To think everything is the same.” Your hands are shaking. You think you might be rambling, so you pause to get back on track.
“But that’s not the most important thing right now. You need to get better and you both need to settle in, you know? That’s his focus. As it should be. And I know he’ll talk to you about it. Whatever happens. I’m sorry I don’t have a– a clear answer.”
Your heart is beating fast as you finish. You can feel it in your throat.
Ellie is frowning as she meets your eyes again. She looks lost, her voice almost a whisper as she says, “I don’t… he has Tommy. And now you.” This admission clearly costs her, and she crosses her arms and looks away from you.
Suddenly you think you understand the conversation you’ve been having. You’re surprised and a little warmed by the fact that she was willing to say that to you at all. 
“Ellie, I might not know everything about what Joel’s life has been like for the last 20 years – not yet, anyway – but I do know what that man looks like when he’s being a parent.” You think you see her suck in a breath at your words. You swallow and continue, “it looks the same now as it did then. And yeah, you don’t know me, but I knew him, and going by my own experience? That part of him is still in there. I can see it. As far as that man is concerned, you’re his kid. No question about it. And that’s not something we take back. It just is, ok? It’s forever and it’s unconditional. I promise you, it never goes away. Not for us.”
After your conversation with Ellie, which you’re hoping went well but you’re honestly not sure, you’re completely wrung out and over your own feelings. You spend about 45 minutes puttering around the kitchen and living room to avoid feeling any more of them before you hear footsteps on the porch.
Joel opens the door, looking around and spotting you quickly. He looks worried, but his expression clears a little when he finds you sitting at the kitchen table. “Hey, everything alright?”
“Yes, everything's fine. She didn’t have another coughing fit, we chatted for a little bit and then she fell back asleep.” His eyebrows raise when you say you talked to Ellie. As he takes the seat across from you his boot nudges yours under the table and then moves away. You try to ignore the effect that tiny touch has on you. 
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. It went well, I think? You’ll probably hear about it either way.” You finish with a little bit of a rueful smile, hoping she’s warming up to you and not the opposite.
Joel smiles a bit in response. “Thank you again, darlin’. I couldn’t put them off anymore and I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to be here with her.” He sighs, running his hand through his hair. 
“To be honest with you, I’m still in shock that you’re here for me to ask. I… well. It feels a little bit too good to be true.” He looks uncertain as he says it. You nod. You feel the same way.
“I know. I… it’s kind of surreal? I want…” you hesitate, but he’s watching you like nothing could be more important than how you finish that sentence. You decide to just let it all out. It’s worked for you so far today. 
“I know it’s been 20 years, Joel, but part of me has felt like everything is the same from the moment I saw you, which is confusing as hell, because the other part of me knows it can’t be and it isn’t. You don’t know what I’ve done, I don’t know what you’ve done. We’re not the same people. Even if it feels like it. Even if looking at you and hearing your voice feels—“ You clear your throat and look away. 
“Even if it feels the same. Even if I want… Even if…” you trail off, not sure if you’re ready to finish that sentence, after all. You realize you’re gripping your hands together so tight it hurts, and you slowly relax them and flatten them on the table in front of you. You take a breath before continuing, gaze trained on your hands. 
“It’s like we hit pause 20 years ago and neither of us knew for sure what happened so there was no closure, no clear explanation. I don’t know about you, but I don’t know how to bridge that time with now. How to remember that version of me, the one you knew, and be this me. How to… Joel, so much happened, and I imagined so many versions of you. What our lives would have been like.” You take a deep breath. “I guess that’s what we need to talk about.”
You look over, gaze low to avoid his eyes, and see Joel is clenching his fists a bit, like he’s holding back. You’d like to think it’s from reaching towards you but maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Maybe you shouldn’t assume you’re reading him as well as you think you are. Maybe you need to spend more time reminding yourself of the things you don’t know about this man. 
Before your thoughts can spiral too far, though, he does reach out. You watch as his fists relax and you track the movement of his hand as it lifts from the table and slowly extends towards yours. He’s trembling, you notice, and then you realize you are too. You can’t tear your eyes away as his fingertips lightly touch the back of your left hand where it rests on the table. You feel all of the hair on your arms stand up in response. 
“Darlin’, I…” he pauses, and you both hold your breath as your eyes meet. 
Time slows to a crawl. He puts more gentle pressure into your connection, sliding his hand over the back of yours, touching you with intent for the first time in two decades. His thumb moves lightly back and forth over your wrist, a soothing motion. All of your focus narrows to that point of connection, even as his gaze pins you in place. You can’t look away. 
Holy hell. His hand fully covers yours and squeezes. After the two barely-there touches you’ve shared today it feels almost obscene. His hand on yours in the present calls up memories of his hands on you Before and you're dizzy, spinning through your memories. You didn’t know you could still feel this way. Not even for Joel. 
He opens his mouth to say something and your gaze drops to his lips. You’re desperate to hear it, whatever it is, when suddenly the moment pops like a soap bubble as the more annoying Miller sticks his head in the front door.
“Joel! I brought food. Oh! Hey there, sunshine.” He greets you, and then grins at you. “Am I interrupting something?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, which is so absurd it kickstarts you back into motion. You need to get out of here. 
“No!” You say a bit too loudly as you leap to your feet, breaking your connection with Joel. You feel its absence immediately. Your hand is tingling. “I should get going, I don’t want to intrude and I want Ellie to be comfortable so she can get better. Joel, I– do you want–“
He interrupts you and catches your eye to hold you in place, but he doesn’t move his hands from the table. “Yes, I do.” You’re glad he does. You aren’t actually sure what you were going to ask, but at least you’re in agreement about it, whatever it is. “We still need to talk. I’ll find you tomorrow?”
You nod, a bit wildly. “I’ll be at the stables all day but I should be home around four.” He smiles at you, starting to stand, and you make a beeline for the door, elbowing Tommy a bit as you pass him. He makes a big show of staggering away, moaning and overselling it, but he deserves it anyway.
As you turn onto the road, you can’t help but glance back at the house you’ve just left. The sight that greets you stops you in your tracks – Joel is leaning against his own open door frame, arms crossed, looking pensive as he watches you walk home. 
Suddenly it hits you, your tired mind finally recalling the reason for all of the deja vu, and your spine stiffens as you inhale quickly in surprise. You almost call out to ask Joel if he remembers. He has to, right? It’s basically what got you together Before and the similarities are almost too much for you to believe. Your eyes move down and back up, looking around the porch, taking him in. All it took to break the tension the first time around and get you to actually start something together was a sick kid.
As you meet his eyes again you’re sure that you’re both remembering it. He can see your moment of realization, and after that moment in the kitchen, you know he can still read you. The expression on his face is complex but you see affection and regret, weighed down by all the memories you share. He tilts his head and smiles at you, a bit ruefully. You smile in response, hugging your arms around yourself. 
All of your nerves and your worries about your upcoming conversation fall away – you still have enough in common with this man that you can have this conversation, without words, 20 feet apart. 20 years apart.
A moment ago you felt like the last few hours had scraped to the bottom of your emotional reserves and left you empty. But the smile you and Joel share sparks something inside you and you’re filled with a sweet, tentative anticipation that you barely know what to do with. It’s been years since you felt anything like it. 
Tomorrow.
Austin, Spring 2001
You were setting your coffee down on your desk, mentally starting your to-do list, when you were surprised by a knock at your front door. 
A peek through your curtains revealed your neighbor, Joel Miller, pacing agitatedly on your front porch. 
Ever since you met on the day you moved in almost six months ago Joel had been nothing but welcoming. And from the moment you met his eyes that day you knew you were in trouble. 
In some ways, you were typical, friendly neighbors. You saw the Millers almost every day, if only to wave at each other from your driveways on busy mornings. You’d been over to babysit Sarah for a short afternoon or evening a few times. They even had you over for a welcome-to-town dinner early on and you’d traded dinner at each other’s homes about once a month after that. 
But what was going to get you in trouble was Joel the Handyman. He did end up fixing some of your bookshelves after the movers broke them – stop apologizing, darlin’, I told you I’m happy to help – which led to him fixing more and more things around your house. Every time he came over to fix something he would spot another creaky cabinet door or leaky faucet or crooked light fixture and promise to come back another day to take care of it. You’d swear he came over to fix something every week. At this point you were surprised there was anything left to fix. 
You always sat nearby while he worked and the two of you talked about anything and everything – whatever funny thing your students had done that week, how Sarah was doing (with school and with soccer and with everything else), Joel’s frustrations at work, Tommy’s latest escapades. Sometimes it felt like Joel knew more about you and your day-to-day life than anyone, since your friendships at work were still new and you’d moved far away from everyone who knew you at home when you took this job. You always ended up talking for much longer than it took Joel to finish whatever task he’d had in mind, usually sitting together on your back porch or at your kitchen table until he absolutely had to go. 
(His visits also gave you the opportunity to watch him work – to watch him flex his shoulders and arms and to admire the muscles in his back and thighs, (mostly) unnoticed. You’d feel bad about it if you hadn’t caught him with his gaze locked on your legs in your house shorts more than once. And then there was the time he’d come over to fix the ceiling fan – he’d climbed a ladder in your living room while you stood nearby to hand him his tools. His chest had been only a foot or so away from your face and when he’d raised his arms his t-shirt had lifted far, far above his jeans. You’d lost track of the conversation, eyes locked on the dark trail of hair that disappeared into the band of his exposed briefs. You’d vaguely thanked whatever deity might be out there that he had forgotten to wear a belt that day. As he stood on his toes and shifted his hips his jeans had slipped a little lower, showing you just a hint of an outline of something you had to stop yourself from picturing. You’d gone quiet, distracted and far away until he coughed lightly and your eyes shot back up to his face. 
“Still with me, darlin?” He’d smirked at you, knowingly, but had gotten right back to work after, continuing the conversation like nothing had happened.)
It felt like you were always catching each other trading looks. The flirtation you’d started that day next to the moving truck hadn’t turned into anything more, but it also hadn’t faded into anything less.
Pacing on your porch that morning, Joel looked as handsome as always, but he was clearly distressed. His normally only somewhat unruly curly hair stood on end as if he’d been tugging at it.
“Morning Joel, something I can do for you?” you asked as you swung the door open and invited him in. Despite how frequently he’d been in your home to fix things it was still a surprise to see him before 8:00 AM on a Tuesday. 
“I’m sorry to bother you, darlin’, but I’m in a bit of a bind. Are you working from home today?” Joel asked as he stepped inside. 
“Yes, is everything alright?” It was clear that Joel was trying to be polite but something was making him more anxious than you’d ever seen him. He was alternately twisting his hands together or running his hands through his hair as he shifted his weight. 
“It’s Sarah. She—“
“Oh no, what happened?”
“She’s just sick, so she can’t go to school but Tommy can’t be here today and I have to go to a job site for a couple of hours. I managed to reschedule some meetings but not everything. Could you possibly come work over at mine for a bit, keep an eye on her? She’ll probably sleep the whole time, you know, but I just don’t want her to be alone, she’s not old enough yet–”
“Joel, of course, I’d be happy to,” you cut him off, trying to reassure him with a smile. “Take your time, I’ve just got a day of grading and reading planned. I can be there for her if she needs me.”
The look of sheer relief that broke across Joel’s face surprised you as he leaned forward, grabbing your shoulders and resting his forehead against yours. Your breath caught in your throat. 
“Oh thank you so much, darlin’. I swear I’ll call as soon as I’m on my way back. Do you need help grabbing anything?” 
As he stepped back Joel raised his left hand and trailed his thumb across your cheek lightly, almost so light you couldn’t feel it, then brushed his fingertips down your neck. You felt your focus narrow to the point where he touched your face before he stepped away, putting more space between you. Your whole body shivered. This is not the time for that. You blinked a few times.
“Oh, um, no I’ve got it. I’ll pack up and be there in a minute.” Get it together. 
About 10 minutes later you were raising your hand to knock at the Millers’ front door when Joel flung it open in front of you and invited you in. 
“Sarah’s back asleep upstairs,” he said in a low voice, “but I woke her up when I got back to let her know you’re here. Feel free to set up wherever you’d like. You can check on her in about an hour – I wrote down what meds she’s had and when she can have them again over here on the counter. I’ll call you in a couple of hours. But call me if you need anything at all, ok? And if she gets worse. And you know where everything is, I know–“
“Joel. Don’t worry, we got this.” You smiled and reached out to squeeze his upper arm, trying to reassure him. 
“I know you do, I know, it’s just—“ he looked worriedly up the stairs before he sighed, shoulders dropping a little, and quickly rubbing his hands over his face. He started to turn towards the door. 
“I know, Joel. It’s Sarah. But I got this, ok? I’m here for you.”
Joel paused, midway through his turn towards the door, and looked back at you. He tilted his head as he considered you, an unreadable expression on his face. 
“I know, darlin’. You always are.” He said, almost too quietly for you to hear. “I’ll —“
“You’ll call me, I know. Now get out of here, Joel Miller.” You pointed playfully at the door. Joel cracked the first weak smile you’d seen on him all morning, nodded his head, and left. 
You’d been working your way through your students’ papers for about 45 minutes when there was some movement upstairs. You quickly set everything down on the couch and moved towards the stairs. “Sarah? Are you awake, sweetheart?” You heard a quiet response but couldn’t quite make it out, so you headed up the stairs to check on her.
You found Sarah sitting on her bed, looking a bit woozy and still mostly asleep. “Hi. I have to pee but I’m kinda dizzy.” Her voice was soft and scratchy and she sounded congested.
“Let me help you. I’ll get you some water after, alright? And you can have more medicine and get back to sleep until lunch.” Sarah nodded sleepily and leaned on you as you moved towards the bathroom together. 
“This is kinda embarrassing,” she said softly, and you laughed. 
“More embarrassing than the Great Tampon Panic of 2000?” You nudged her softly with your elbow and she laughed, and then coughed. 
“Don’t make me laugh! No, nothing can beat the way dad lost it that day.”
You smiled, knowing you were probably both remembering Joel’s panicked sprint to your house over the summer when Sarah got her first period and the ensuing chaos. You had been living next door for about a month and you were all more comfortable around each other after that. 
After a successful, if slow, bathroom trip, you got Sarah another dose of her medicine and tucked her back into bed. “I’ll be right downstairs, ok? I’ll check on you again soon.” You ran your hand lightly over her forehead and hair to soothe her, but also to see if she was warm. She didn’t feel hot under your hand. Sarah nodded and was soon asleep once again. 
Joel didn’t manage to call until about two hours later. 
“I’m so sorry, darlin’, I wanted to call an hour ago but I got caught up. How’s my girl?”
“She’s alright. We had a short bathroom break and another round of cold meds and she’s asleep again. I updated your note.”
Joel sighed, sounding more tired than you’d ever heard him. “I'm hoping to leave in the next half hour, so I’ll see you soon, alright?”
“We’ll be here.”
Much later, around dusk, you were finishing up a stack of assignments when you heard a key in the front door. You set everything aside and turned to see Joel quietly shutting the door behind him.
“Welcome back.”
“Hey, darlin’, how’s she doing?” he asked, setting his keys on the table by the door and stopping to remove his boots. 
“She’s been asleep since she had some toast around lunch time. I peeked in there about 15 minutes ago but she was still out.”
He sighed, and looked towards the stairs, brow furrowed and clearly worried. “I was hoping she’d sleep it off.”
“She could still be doing that. When I did talk to her earlier she was groggy but still herself – she told me not to make her laugh because it made her cough.” You smiled a little. “And she didn’t have a fever when I checked a little while ago.”
Joel nodded and turned back to look at you. “Even when she feels terrible she’s still a force of nature. I can’t thank you enough, darlin’. I know it was a lot, and it took me longer than I hoped, but–“
“Joel, it was fine.” You cut him off. “It wasn’t a lot, it wasn’t even that long at all, and I did just what I would have done anyway.” You tilted your head towards your stack of graded papers on the couch. Joel turned fully towards you, hands on his hips, and tilted his head while he considered you. The unreadable face was back.
“You look mighty comfortable over there.”
“Oh sorry, let me clean up—“
“No, darlin’, that’s not what I meant. No need to rush out. It’s a good thing. You look good. Over there, I mean. Um.” He smiled at you, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, looking a bit sheepish. You knew what you wanted that to mean but you weren’t sure he meant it that way. Did you look good, or look good here, comfortable on his couch, in his home? You felt your face start to warm as you smiled at each other.
“Can I help with anything before I go?” You ducked your head a little and started shoving your papers into your bag. 
“No, I’ve got it. I’d invite you to stay for dinner as thanks, but I don’t think anyone in this household will be much company today. Next week, ok? Come over for dinner, maybe Sunday? Give her some time to get better first.” He took a couple of steps towards you, watching as you packed up your things. 
“You don’t have to thank me, Joel–“
“Come for dinner,” he interrupted you, catching your eye. “Please.”
You stood and found yourself only a foot or so away from him, which didn’t help you calm your reaction to him. “Ok, ok, you know I’d love to.” You smiled and Joel smiled in response. “I don’t need convincing.”
Looking satisfied, Joel turned and led the way to the door. You grabbed your bag and followed, noticing he was standing a little taller than he had been that morning.
You started to move past him towards the door, but before you could, Joel suddenly reached out and pulled you into a hug. You found yourself with your arms circling his waist as he placed one hand securely at your lower back and used the other to gently cup the back of your head. You pressed your face to his shoulder. So quietly you almost missed it, he whispered, “Thank you again, darlin’. I was still worried, of course, but I felt so much better knowing it was you here with my girl all day.”
You couldn’t help it – you sank into his arms a little, returning the hug tightly. “It’s never a problem, Joel. You know I love that girl.”
You felt more than heard a little hitch in his breath as he paused before slowly stepping out of the embrace. “Yeah, I reckon I do. We’ll see you Sunday, right? Let’s say 6.”
“I’ll be here.” You smiled, touched his forearm briefly, and headed out the door. 
You felt his eyes on you the whole way to your front door, and glanced back as you dug out your keys to find him leaning against his own door frame, watching you. When he saw you turn he smiled a little and raised a hand to wave, finally ducking inside his own house only when you did the same. It felt like something had shifted. Something more was brewing between the two of you.  
Sunday. 
...
a/n: see you next Sunday for chapter 3! I decided not to split this or the next one half, so the next chapter has parts in Jackson and in Austin. Also, fun fact - this Austin section for chapter 2 was the first part of this fic I wrote, back in April.
Tag list:
@morgaussy @jay-zzle @bluetattoos
chapter 3 is posted!
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sundrop-writes · 1 month
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Hey everyone! I'm Sundrop, but you can call me Sunny. I am a fanfic writer, and this is my fanfiction blog where I post all of my newest fics. Right now, my main fandom is The Walking Dead. If you want to know about the fandoms I'm interested in generally, check out my Main Masterlist. Requests are currently open. Please read my rules page before sending in a request. If you have a question about my fics or about my blog in general, it might be answered by my FAQ.
About me: I'm a 90s baby (I remember Blockbuster lmao), my pronouns are she/her (but I don't mind being called dude or other masc nicknames), I am autistic, bisexual, and polyamarous (and those things often heavily inspire my writing). I am chronically ill; I have POTS, EDS, and some of my fics may go behind schedule or may be cancelled due to flare-ups of my illness, just so you guys are aware.
All of my fics are subject to The Autism Clause. This means that I could randomly lose interest in a fandom, an idea, a WIP, or a series that I’m writing at any time. If something is victim to this Clause, it means that I will stop working on it before it’s finished, and I will likely never mention it again unless asked about it.
If you are curious about what happened to a fic that was planned or you want to know why I haven't updated in a while, definitely go over to @tenpintsof-sundrop to see updates about my personal life and my creative process and how that affects my fanfiction posts. This is not my main blog. This is just a blog I use for posting fics, so if you wanna know more about my interests and the progress of my fics, then definitely head over to my main.
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I would highly recommend downloading the Interactive Fics Extension for Google Chrome - it turns every use of Y/N into a fanfic into your actual name, and it works very well with my fics to turn the reading into an immersive, personalized experience.
If you are looking for more of my older fics, then definitely check out my AO3 - which is the largest living catalogue of my fics in existence with over a million words on it. If you enjoy anything that I have posted here, you can go there to check out more of my work. However, please keep in mind that all of my work over there is archive locked to keep it out of the hands of AI scrapers and bots, so you will need an account to view it. And you need to make sure that you're logged into your account on all browsers before you click the link.
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Most Recent Work: Careful - Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader (Series)
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Currently Working On: The Jaws of Life (sequel to Emergency Contact)
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Coming Soon:
Heaven’s Gate (for The Walking Dead) - Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader. Strangers to Lovers/Soulmates/Lovers Reunited. Angst, Fluff, Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 1 to Season 5. 17k in counting. You can find a preview here. In this fic, you and Daryl get separated when the Governor attacks the prison, and though you both believe the other person is dead (or long gone) you find each other at the most unlikely time, in the most unlikely place.
The Jaws of Life (for DC Titans) - Jason Todd x GN!Reader. Sequel to Emergency Contact. Lovers Reunited. Extreme Angst, Smut, Hurt and (some) Comfort. Set during Season 3. 21k in counting. In this fic, you and Jason struggle with the new meaning of your relationship after what happened with Deathstroke - only for this tentative change to be harshly disrupted by the Joker. And you’re still heavily mourning when a red hooded stranger breaks into your apartment one night, seeking medical care because apparently - you owe him one.
Nasty (for Stranger Things) - Sub!Eddie Munson x Dom!Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. 3k in counting. In this fic, you and Eddie have been dating for a while, but you don’t like that all of his attempts to have sex with you have him taking on a (seemingly fake) dom persona. When you finally tell him that you prefer to be more dominant in bed, he isn’t disgusted like you thought he might be - he loves it.
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autismprotocol · 2 months
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Hey, sorry if this is long, but I really like what you guys are doing and have nowhere else to put my theories, so...
Firstly, sorry to be that person, but I actually think you mislabeled the entities for two episodes. Needles reads like an avatar of the slaughter to me. It's like Lietner said, the physical description is less important then the emotional or metaphorical. Needles' thing isn't "look at this scary trick I can do with my flesh body." It's "I am going to cause you intense pain at random by stabbing you with my needles. Please be scared of me :)"
I was also surprised you didn't mark Putting Down Roots as a filth statement. Illness, rotting alive, swarming flies, a deeply unhealthy romantic love. All reads as corruption to me.
Now let's get to my fun crack theory. Episode 7 almost reads to me like the point the powers breached into the new world. Think about it, hilltop road was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of artifacts and "people" (avatars) that map to many different powers (I counted stranger, slaughter, dark, filth, and possibly hunt among the artifacts present). The timeliness doesn't quite match up (we have a statement from the 1800s), but maybe the powers are capable of having retroactively always existed. Or maybe the fan theory that the entities are now the "hungers" that feed on obsession was true until the fears intruded into the world.
Omg thank you so much for the ask I absolutely love over analyzing this goofy lil podcast and i really wanted to have this board be a collaborative and community thing for all of us TMAG/TMAGP fans out there!
starting with the board corrections you pointed out you are absolutely right after reading this I ended up rereading the wiki entries about the Entities because its been a hot second since I've read up on those goobers and I've kinda forgotten how many little nuances that each one has. I had no idea how we missed the clear corruption tie-ins that were occurring in Samuel Webbers journal (Putting Down Roots) especially when you brought up his toxic relationship to his partner.
As with Needles before doing my reread about the fears I just assumed flesh because body modified with needles. but looking into it, sudden piercing needles more cleanly falls into slaughter.
I actually have this ongoing theory originated by my roommate and other blog contributor that the fears might have been scrambled when crossing dimensions. maybe because of this many minor powers have begun to branch out from the main 15 and with that hybrid avatars and entities have been created. With needles I think maybe they fall under the umbrella of slaughter and spiral because of the way they mentally toy with their victims. also could explain why needles has to convince the man on the phone that they're scary because this hybrid power may be new and people have not gotten fearful of it yet.
I'll be making those changes for next weeks board so thank you for pointing them out :D
on to your theory that would make sense especially since this episode (EP 7) is kind of serving as the catalyst for the story to shift into high gear. I think that if the Hilltop charity shop was the entrance point for all of the fears to enter the world it would make complete sense. Hilltop is the one place in the Magnus canon that people have reported traveling to different dimensions. also the date of the incident falls right about the time that Archives started early 2016 so the fears may have also gone back in time to when Jon became the Archivist in TMAs universe (since Jons death is the catalyst that forced them to jump dimensions.) I'm really liking where your theory is heading
also real quick if anyone has more info about the theory that Protocols world lived off of hunger and desire pre the fears appearing I'd love to hear more about that because I've never heard of the until now.
Again thank you so much for the ask I'm so happy you're liking what we're doing here and I hope you continue to share your thoughts and theories with this blog.
-Echo
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anxious-witch · 2 months
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This post specifically goes for my mutuals/followers who have been struggling lately. I see you and I don't always have something encouraging to reply, but if you have been feeling down recently, I hope this will help.
TW for mental health talk, mentions of suicide (this is an encouraging post, but please don't read further if anything of the sort might trigger you. Keeping your mental health intact is more important ❤️)
It's so very easy to get in the spiral of "I am not doing enough, all these people that I love would be better off without me". And convincing yourself those same people would forget you and move on quickly.
It's not true. I understand the sentiment, I really, really do. I used to fully believe that myself. But that's a lie. Mental illness reshapes the way we think and perceive things. And our brain and wired to remember bad things more than good ones. But when you'd write down everything that happened every day, I'd honestly be surprised if all of it was bad. Of course there are bad days, but even then, depression tend to focus on things you did wrong instead of those you did right.
But I am here to talk about the fact that I'd miss you if you were gone, too. Which seems ridiculous. "Rio, you follow 1000 blogs, you wouldn't notice". *loud incorrect buzzer* wrong! I would notice. As long as we ever interacted, as long as you liked and/or reblogged my posts, I'd notice.
When someone gets busy and I don't see them in my notes for over a week, I hope they are okay and just doing something more fun irl. I am not always great at remembering usernames, but as soon as they like one of my posts again I'm like yes!! They are back! I am glad you are okay!
"But I don't even contribute to the fandom!" No? Do you think creating content is the only way to contribute? Even just lurking and liking stuff counts. And I know some of you send really lovely anon messages that have made my day more than once. It DOES matter. Notes help other people as encouragement to keep posting. That absolutely counts.
"We barely post about the same fandom anymore" ah! But I still see you! I have a mutual that I have been following since 2016-2017, I believe. I have no idea what the hell he posts about these days. I can't rven accurately tell you why I originally followed him in the first place, it was either LOTR or Twilight, but fuck if I remember, because neither of hs posts about it!
And I still care. Because his journey ended up helping me. Seeing people's posts about their little achievements always makes my day. And even if you don't feel like you achieved anything in awhile, that doesn't mean you won't in the future. My point is, you are loved more than you know.
And this is only about online stuff. People notice when you walk down the street. Maybe someone likes your hair, or some detail of your outfit. Maybe someone saw you feed a stray and thought how nice you are. Maybe someone takes the same public transport as you every day and takes comfort in the fact you share the same path, if only for a few minutes.
This tumblr post perfectly described it, actually:
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So please, if not for your own sake, for the sake of all the people who love you silently, keep going. It will get better. You might be just a bit further away from getting better. But you won't know unless you keep going.
So let's find out together, shall we?
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ferris-the-wheel · 8 months
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Riddle Rosehearts relationship headcanons!
TW: None
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At first, he didn't really understand that what he was feeling was a crush. He thought because of his racing pulse and how he felt feverish around you was because he was sick. In fact, he thought that since it happens around you, you were the one who got him sick.
Obviously, since his temperature was normal and he didn't show any other signs of any illness, he was very confused and went to ask Trey if he knew what might be going on.
When Trey suggested that he might have a crush on you, Riddle was just trying to figure out why he was feeling off, so he was more than willing to accept that suggestion. Yeah, the issue is that he had no idea what to do now. So, he did what he always does when he doesn't know the answer: look it up in a library.
Long story short, that failed. When he vented his frustration to Trey about how the library had "utterly failed me!", Trey suggested using the internet instead.
Cue confused Riddle noises since he doesn't usually use the web that often (and definitely not for romance-related purposes). He figures it out eventually though (with Trey's help).
He did attempt to win you over by giving you gifts such as flowers and chocolates, as well as taking you to the movies. You caught on pretty quick that he might like you, but you didn't want to embarrass him by calling him out on it.
When you finally start dating, he's always very polite and caring toward you. While this whole dating thing is new to him, he's determined to do his best. He wants you to feel comfortable around him, so he doesn't yell at you if you break a rule. He'll simply remind you of the rule you broke and advise you not to break it again.
If you take advantage of him such as breaking several rules clearly on purpose, then he'll get mad. He does love you, but he won't tolerate blatant disrespect, especially when it involves the Queen of Hearts' rules. The only thing he asks is that you respect him and his boundaries.
He loves spending time with you, especially when it's going out to do things such as picnics. He likes treating you to desserts such as strawberry tarts, fruit salad with whipped cream, and other fruit-related foods. If you're more of a chocolate lover, he'll be willing to compromise once in a while. If you aren't into sweets at all, that's fine too! He'll take you to a fancy restaurant and you guys can have a fun date there.
Overall, he's a very good boyfriend. While he still has much to learn in the romance department, he's doing his best. While he has some work to do on the communication aspect of the relationship, your relationship is very healthy.
He's very hesitant about bringing you around to his house (rather, his mother). He's told you about his mother and how she acts, so while you'd like to either a) beat the hell out of her or b) stay as far away from her as possible, you leave it up to Riddle if he wants you to meet her or not.
Boo!! Hello~ I hope you enjoyed my very first post!! If you liked it and want to see more, drop me a follow, will ya? Thanks! I'm looking forward to watching this blog grow, so stick around if you like my content!! Bye~~~!! 🧡
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cologona · 11 days
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If you won some sort of lottery contest and DC allowed you to write a comic run for any character, any topic, no limits, what would your comic be like?
What kinda plot and characters would you want to etch into official DC canon? (Or would you prefer to write an elseworlds kinda thing?)
-redhoodinternaldialectical from the "main" blog
Sorry it took a while to answer this, I got pretty carried away! Jason is my favorite character and the character I know most about, so of course I'd write about him. This is going to be pretty long winded and fanfic-y, hope you don’t mind!
First things first I’m making both UTRH and Lost Days mostly canon again. Jason was a crime lord who did Mean Crime Lord Things for a while and that’s what I’ve decided everyone is referring to when they gesture vaguely to his villainous past.
I’m also bringing back the original “big boob” backstory where Jason makes Bruce laugh on the anniversary of his parents’ death. Catherine was an opioid addict due to illness, Willis was the person who taught Jason about cars (and thus how to jack tires) and Faye Gunn is no longer Jason’s grandma. (I really disliked Ma Gunn’s “redemption” in RHATO.) Just in case, I’m also reiterating Sheila’s role in Jason’s death.
Here’s a few lines I came up with for the Todds:
Jason keeps the letters Willis sent him from prison - the ones Ma Gunn hid- in the same picture frame that holds his Robin graduation photo with Bruce. He loved and resented Willis in equal parts, but mostly he regrets not having gotten more time. It’s all the same with fathers.
Catherine is curled up in bed, her expression is half a grimace. She asks Jason, who is reading a picture-book by her side, to get her ‘medicine’ for her. Jason doesn’t know how else to help her feel better so… that’s exactly what he does. In a moment, he returns with a small heart shaped box and a cup of microwaved soup.
If I can imply in some way that Catherine is in denial about the possibility of her dying I’d like to do that too.
I’m also doing a total overhaul of the All-Caste.
Essence is getting proper Tibetan braids, Ducra is going to wear a khampa chuba instead of her current old coat, and the Acres-of-All are getting reimagined as a towering Ziggurat with all the murals, pillars, curtains, and ornate trim befitting a monastery! The All-caste of memory will be bright and fantastical, but the ruins of the present will be dark and spooky.
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Some references for what I'm talking about.
I’m also reframing the “Absolute Evil” part of the All-blades’ description to be an epithet for the Untitled. The sword is not literally judging Goodness and Evilness anymore; now they cut through negative psychic energy Jujutsu Kaisen style. I don’t think I need to spell out a justification for Jason being able to summon them whenever, but for any sticklers I’ll just say it’s because Jason- like the Untitled- has a lot of bad feelings and trace amounts of Dionesium in his system (among assorted other chemicals.)
Since Lost Days is being brought back that means instead of spending an entire 3 years with the All-Caste, Jason only spent a few weeks with them during his world-wide training arc. Ostensibly because a little magic would give him an edge over Batman. Ducra wouldn’t normally just give away powerful magic weapons to any chump with a free weekend, and she knew Jason was dangerous, but since the All-Blades are so specific and the ritual to attain them nigh-unsurvivable she saw an opportunity to use Jason. Sure she's one of the Good Guys, but she's not called a conniving old witch for nothing hoohoo!
Now a few plot ideas for a vague overall mini-arc.
First, Jason goes to ugly lengths to protect or prevent consequences from finding one of his family. Maybe someone threatens their secret identity…? The ‘opponent’ should be someone innocent and/or noble but not easily bought or fought. Maybe Vicki Vale, another Hero, or some kind of wealthy heir. The point is to cast doubt on if Jason’s return to the Bats is really so unquestionably redeeming. Jason has pretty much chosen to betray his morals for them after all.
Then, Jason chooses not to kill a villain who shortly afterwards victimizes more people and skips town before he can get caught. Basically a rehash of Diplomat’s Son except the Garzonas figure gets away. It’s technically a win for Batman- his presence kept Gotham safe after all. But it doesn’t feel like a win, especially not to Jason.
And finally, Jason frames himself for various murders committed by victims against their abusers. Maybe kick the story off with one of Ma Gunn’s boys killing her and telling the cops it was Red Hood in a desperate bid to avoid jail.
Obviously Jason can’t be allowed to do this long-term. It’s a bad precedent to set, an obstruction of justice, etc… Jason hasn’t broken The Big Rule though, and Bruce can only act so sanctimonious when those same complaints could be are made about him as well. There’s no way this ends any other way than Batman running Red Hood out of Gotham again and they both know it, but neither deviates from the path set before them.
One or two “monster of the week” issues where Jason fights various assassins and bounty hunters sent by his more influential enemies might be good- one should occur right after the above story. A consequence for his “return to form” so to speak. Batfamily fans may appreciate a scene where Bruce says something indicating that he ran Jason out for his own safety as well as Gotham’s. Batman may be able to hide in Bruce Wayne’s skin during the day but Jason’s only identity is that of Red Hood, and at times that makes him vulnerable in a way other heroes aren’t. This + some panels contrasting the generic mercenary look of Jason’s guns and equipment with the Bats’ spandex future-tech will be great for showing how separate Jason is from the Bats.
Now while Jason’s out of Gotham again there’s this detail in one of RHATO’s flashbacks that I want to expand on- that being how he used to be able to summon a lot more All-blades.
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Red Hood Outlaw 34
“I had a lot of soul back then” - implying that he has a lot less soul now…!?
Jason’s been through a lot, in life sure but also more recently. Fight scenes where the All-blades take the form of daggers would not only be cool and evocative of the wavy dagger Talia gifted him way back when, they’d be good visual sign of his declining emotional state.
Later on as his soul ‘shrinks’ further, I’d give him a pair of mystical guns through which he can channel his All-blades into bullets. If it’s another gift from Talia I’m thinking dark brass revolvers with paisley filigree and a red Endless Knot charm hanging from each handle. If they’re from Essence or S’aru I’m thinking black lacquer and silver cloud-patterned ornamentation, with red coral embedded on either side of the gun. Beautiful Bayonetta-style guns with glowing red veins and a cowboy flair!
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antique guns which inspired me
As for what he’s using the All-blades (All-bullets?) for, I think it’d be fun to have Jason exorcising some ghosts. He can solve various murder mysteries, figure out why this place or that person is haunted, and get into fights with horrific otherworldly creatures. Jason is an interesting character to do this premise with because he might just determine that some some spirits should get their revenge, and act on behalf of a ghost rather than erasing it.
I’m not sure whether I’d want to have Essence join him or not… On one hand it only makes sense that Jason would help Isabel and Essence find a way to free themselves from the Blood Blade, and that goal would provide his character with some direction. Then again, Essence/Isabel could be cool as antagonists. Jason might see some ghosts as valid but Essence probably wouldn’t see any merit in appeasing manifestations of lingering resentment. She’s similar to him in that she also turned her back on her family, but she’s different in that she did it because she believed so wholeheartedly in their cause. She’s old and sort of a Jedi, but she’s hot-blooded and she’ll never not be Ducra’s daughter in the same way it seems Jason can never escape Batman’s shadow. I bet she has some real juicy sunk-cost fallacy type thinking too, that’d be fun to dig into.
Anyways I think this is a pretty good set-up to explore the politics/morality of forgiveness. What makes the difference between an injustice and a hatchet that ought to be buried? When is forgiveness empowering and when is it coerced? Who is it that must forgive? Justice vs Revenge, that whole kind of thing.
Other than the supernatural stuff I want Jason working with Talia, and I’m reintroducing Sasha to the post-52 continuity. Duela is getting nixed.
I don’t really have any specific plot ideas for Talia, but I would like to establish Jason as one of her associates. With Lost Days back they have basis for an actual relationship again. They’re not always on the same side but Jason can sometimes do tasks for Talia (outside the purview of Ra’s and the LOA), and Talia can occasionally support Jason with various social power-play type moves.
An instance of Jason getting into a fight with one of the Bats because he’s doing a favor for Talia would be great! I wouldn't write Talia as an evil evil bad horrible dragon lady, so it shouldn’t be a huge blow to Jason’s status as a Good Guy. Also I like the idea of Jason and Talia’s relationship mostly being inferred through their actions supporting one another, rather than directly showing much ‘on-screen’ interaction between them.
Also it’ll be interesting to go into Bruce, Dick, and Damian’s reaction to finding out that they’re not the only ones Jason is loyal to. Bruce thinking Talia was a bad influence on Jason (like fanon), silently frustrated because what he really wants is for Jason to be a full Bat-Believer (like the good old days…). Dick being fine with Jason never falling fully in-line with Bruce, provided that at the end of the day his loyalty belonged to his family.
-brief topical detour to talk about Sasha-
The new timeline of events is that Jason and Sasha met as fellow patients while Jason was in his Vague Villain era. They escaped the hospital building together (Sasha in her bloody dress, and Jason naked save for his skimpy hospital gown dhoti) and having no one else they stuck together. They got close but at some point Sasha lost her memories, giving her a chance at a fresh start. This was around the same time Jason “redeemed” himself and so just like Max Dawkins, ‘Numbers’, and Gabby Christiensen -Sasha became another person from Jason’s past that he didn’t let himself have a relationship with.
Sasha was just old enough that she didn’t have to be sent into foster care, so with some help from Wayne Foundations she got her GED and her feet underneath her. Now… she goes to work, goes to her physical therapy appointments, fights with her mother over the phone, and yes- sometimes she goes to the club.
The new Sasha still has spiky red hair but her face looks entirely normal save for a subtle scar tracing around her jawline and chin- the edges of where her mask used to sit. She wears dark makeup and even darker clothes. She’s prone to false memories and dissociation. She’s lost most of her ability to feel pain. She can’t watch certain shows she used to love anymore because they trigger her. She never returned to Russia. She doesn’t have many friends.
Since this is comics, her reintroduction will come by way of a dramatic fight. Sasha will regain her memories one day and show up out of the blue to fight Jason, angry and heartbroken that he abandoned her. He tries to explain himself but she just says look what they did to my face, referring to the facial reconstructive surgery she was given while amnesiac. She’ll be difficult to fight, not only because being a partial Dollotron gives her enhanced strength but also because she’s being reckless and the longer they fight the more strain and damage her body accrues.
After Jason apologizes and they reconcile (they will both cry) Sasha can become a recurring side character that Jason visits, keeping him grounded and up to date with Gotham. I think it'd be cute for her to bid him farewell by saying she’ll hold the city hostage until he comes back. (Is Sasha going to become Jason’s love interest? No. If I give Jason a love interest it’s going to be Numbers.)
--Going back to the previous topic, I want Sasha’s return to be part of this greater arc of Jason addressing his "shrinking soul" problem. My brain is a little fried now so I’m not exactly sure how but she is related. I think she ought to be.
Jason wants Bruce to be right. He would like for his problem to be fixed by going home and saying sorry. But at the end of my run I want him to face the reality that it’s not about that.
...Perhaps it should be about Jason 'abandoning' Gotham? I don’t really want the final thesis of my run to imply that Jason’s soul would just be fixed if he killed Rogues though, and Jason always came back whenever a big disaster was happening so it doesn't quite fit anyways… Jason does believe in the value of “pure” heroes it’s just not what he’s supposed to be. Whatever his problem's “about” , it ought to prompt Jason to stop taking Bruce’s shit. I'm saying the man is literally breaking Jason's spirit.
I’m sympathetic to Bruce but I wouldn’t write him as a nice father. I would also have scene where a younger Bat accuses Jason of being overdramatic despite 'not even having it the worst’. I don't know who 'has it the worst' but I want to make a statement that you don't need to win the pain-race to be fed up.
Ah anyways, now my brain is really fried. I hope this post was coherent all the way through, I neglected to edit and organize my thoughts as much towards the end. Thank you for asking me such a great question, I had a lot of fun thinking about it! :D
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1dmonthlyficroundup · 6 months
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— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —
Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for October 2023! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.
Happy reading!
* Fly To You by @babyhoneyheslt [G, 1k, Louis/Harry]
On the way to their honeymoon, Harry and Louis find out the pilot is ill. With Louis being a pilot, he offers to fly the plane there, and it turns out to make the start of their honeymoon extra special.
* Forgotten Kingdom by @babyhoneyheslt [G, 2k, Harry/Louis]
Louis had always loved ruined cities and had always been obsessed with Glyswing Kingdom, a city that many believed to be a myth. Moving into his grandparents house for renovations, he never expected to find what could be the long forgotten kingdom. Part 1 of The Secret City
*Castles Crumbling Down by @babyhoneyheslt [G, 1k, Louis/Harry]
With Harry freed, the kingdom crumbled down around them, prompting a quick escape. Part 2 of The Secret City
* The Tower by @babyhoneyheslt [G, 4k, Harry/Louis]
There's something strange going on in Heaven.
Bored Angel Harry can't help but investigate. Part 1 of Devil’s In The Detail
* The Fool by @babyhoneyheslt [G, 4k, Louis/Harry]
After making a deal with the devil, Harry has to forge a new life for himself alongside Louis on Earth. Part 2 of Devil’s In The Detail
* The Devil by @babyhoneyheslt [M, 3k, Harry/Louis]
Harry has grown to love being on earth, but his absence in heaven and the company he keeps, hasn't gone unnoticed. Part 3 of Devil’s In The Detail
* Cold Spring by @nouies [E, 8k, Louis/Pedro Pascal]
Life went on as normal at Cold Spring Café. Sam’s scribbles remained indiscernible, Jake persisted on his idea of getting more pots for the shop, and Pedro…Pedro continued coming to drink his moderately-caffeinated americano, to write furiously in that notebook of his, and to captivate Louis to no end.
or…Louis is a coffee shop owner and Pedro is his newest customer.
* Lips so good I forget my name by @enchantedlandcoffee [E, 828 words, Louis/Harry]
Harry hummed in contemplation as he moved to palm himself through his briefs, "Do you think you've deserved it, Lou? Hmm?" At Louis' sound of protest, Harry swiftly moved the microphone back to the older man's mouth causing him to moan as he wrapped his lips around it again. "Because I don't think you have. I think you love your microphone too much to suck on anything else." Harry's words elicited a moan from Louis as his hips bucked up instinctively.
Or Louis needs to give up control in the bedroom sometimes, until he doesn't.
* Tied Up Like Two Ships by @enchantedlandcoffee [T, 2k, Harry/Louis]
"His crew boarded our ship and took a few of us hostage. Um, myself, Liam, Louis, Tabby, and a few others. Then they- uh- they, um…"
"They started stealing our most valuable possessions on board: heirlooms, jewels, weapons. And then," Zayn continued on from Liam, "then the cannons started. The first shot hit the side closest to the berth, where most of the crew were sleeping, and the second was aimed directly at the Captain’s Quarters. We- uh, we lost fifteen of the crew then, and then, uh, then ten shortly after."
OR Captain Styles wakes up to find his rival and old friend, Captain Tomlinson, aboard his ship. Part 1 of You Make Me Strong
* two languages, one love by @nouies [NR, 3k, Louis/Cillian Murphy]
The three times Louis speaks to Cillian in Spanish, and the one time he finally gets a response.
* a cycle of recycled revenge by brokenbeaks / @broken-beaks [E, 103k, Harry/Louis]
Foxburgh, England, 1983.
In the heat of summer, wreathed by pastures, rolling knolls, and thatched-roof cottages, Louis takes on a new job: caretaking for a recently blinded man named Harry. As it begins, what seems like a simple task turns into a quest that costs him every last bit of his pride and tolerance. Harry is, in practice, a two-legged curse. And Louis is just gonna have to put up with it.
Or: The one where Harry likes to infuriate Louis almost as much as he enjoys straddling his lap.
* the blue never-ending sky by @justanothershadeofblue [T, 3k, Louis/Harry]
“What do you suppose it’s like?”
Harry’s voice was dreamy, barely audible from where Louis lay on his back on the off-white carpet of Harry’s bedroom.
“Arizona?” Louis asked, and Harry made an affirmative noise from his position on top of his twin bed. “Wouldn’t know, would I?” Louis jerked his head at the window, dripping with mid-February rain. It was a useless gesture - Harry was busy staring at the ceiling. “On account of being British and all.”
“I bet it’s beautiful,” Harry said, and his voice sounded like he was already gone.
* all of my demons are wallflowers watching us by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove [E, 3k, Harry/Louis]
Harry slides his hands into his pockets, feeling the comforting padding of the thick diaper he’s wearing under his jeans. He’s avoided haunted houses for years; his weak bladder and nervous disposition meaning that they often resulted in mortification. But since he started dating Louis – and since they discovered that Louis actually quite enjoys his weak bladder – well. Some of the calculus has changed.
* The Freak called ‘Jezebel’ by sweetkalachuchi / @neverforpickles [M, 8k, Louis/Harry]
“Zayn!” Harry said the moment he got inside the room, his voice loud and clear as it touched the four walls of the room. His voice bellowing and ricocheting on their own without Harry raising his voice.
Without hesitation, from where he’s sat in the sole incredibly detailed piece of architecture in the whole room, Harry calmly said, “I am going for a vacation.”
Or, the Devil decided to go for a vacation and met his soulmate instead.
* could start a cult by @nouies [E, 8k, Harry/Louis]
He lowers down the top that Louis is wearing, successfully unclasping his nursing bra as well, letting Louis’ tits bounce at the sudden movement. Harry massages both breasts to stimulate the milk flow, and he can feel his cock hardening inside his pants.
or...Harry can’t get enough of Louis’ breast milk.
* I Want Adventure In The Great Wide Somewhere by @rockstarlwt28 [G, Louis/Harry]
Harry surprises Louis with a little Age Regression gift in support of his gender fluidity.
* Wearing You Like Clothes by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 [E, 5k, Harry/Louis]
Louis rushes over to his door and hopes against hope that maybe he got lucky and it didn’t lock this time. He jiggles the handle, but no dice.
Louis groans. Great, so he’s locked out and it’s after hours so his landlord will be difficult to reach. He does have a spare key, but it’s with his best mate Niall, who is conveniently out of town this weekend.
And it’s not like Louis can go anywhere to ask for help.
Not when he’s only wearing knickers.
(Or the one where Omega Louis accidentally locks himself out of his flat in only his underwear. Embarrassingly help comes in the form of Harry, the beautiful Alpha that lives down the hall. It turns out alright in the end).
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sea-lanterns · 2 months
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tw // : mention of hypersexuality and disorders
i'm not sure if i contributed to the need for that statement or not but i know i sent asks that mentioned hypersexuality in passing some time ago and in case i did cause any kind of problems; first: as someone that's been medically diagnosed with hypersexuality i want to thank you for pointing out the distinction between high libido and hypersexuality. it's an important difference that's severely misunderstood amongst a large amount of people and a topic that should be treated with way more respect than it gets.
second: i would like to apologize if any of my asks came off as fetishy or romanticization, or gave off the impression that i was trying to use hypersexuality interchangeably with high libido. that's never been my intention and again; as someone with an actual medic diagnosis for hypersexuality; i try my hardest to be as careful as i can be to avoid coming off like that because of how harmful it is and i don't want to give off the idea that i'm engaging with bad intentions. i also want to apologize if i ended up pushing you out of your comfort zone with anything i said. i've been following your blog for a very long time and would be really upset with myself if i did anything to offend/bother you. while i don't remember sending anything explicit i do remember bringing the topic up so i wanna make sure you know that had absolutely no ill intent when i did. i never saw the rule against disorders and the thought that even slight mentions could cause issues never occurred to me, so i'll try to do better. you're free to ignore this if you want, but i felt i should write to you anyway just to be sure if there was anything i personally did to contribute to the problem.—🥞
You’re okay 🥞 anon! Thank you for reaching out to me!
No need to feel called out, that statement was posted in regards to a few asks I’ve been seeing lately (not you) that I personally think have been using the term “hypersexuality” as a way to describe their high libido. I just wanted to make the distinction clear so that my fishies are aware that hypersexuality is probably not the right term they are looking for, and it is important to inform them so they can use the correct terminology in the future.
As for the fact that there was no mention of disorders in my rules, I just checked and you are right! Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I’ve updated the rules to include the fact that I don’t write for disorders on all of my blogs, so thank you for mentioning it :)
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devine-fem · 4 months
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LONG POST! you can skip.
I have come to rant and vent about Jack from Wonder Woman 2023 and why they are a transgender/TRANSFEM allegory.
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I would like to preference this by saying that you can feel represented through this character for a multitude of reasons regardless of being trans or not but I personally think they’re some sort of transfem allegory and I’m here to talk about why because 1) its my blog and 2) I am obsessed and I’m here to argue that they are transfem, a transfem allegory or at the very least transfem coded.
Who is Jack?
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“Jack” is an extreme Wonder Woman “fanboy” that we know is ill, their tests have been coming up slim and they've had a multitude of doctors come and try and cure them and to give them a couple of good memories before they pass, their parents ask Wonder Woman to spend a day with them.
Allegory 1.
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From their timid nature, I assume that a lot of their life they feel like an experience is ruined if they're involved or feel apologetic if they're not perfect all the time. This to me makes me think “Jack” likes to try and embody Wonder Woman during stressful or traumatizing situations. They idealized her to never be afraid, anxious, or quiet.
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Allegory 2.
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There’s this montage that features “Jack” doing a bunch of things that an Amazon would do like archery, wearing the armory, or eating the fruit, but also things that Wonder Woman would do like use her lasso, throw her tiara or sword fight, etc.
It makes me think “Jack” wanted to spend their time doing things that made them feel strong, things that could really immerse them into the Wonder Woman experience. Something they probably yearned for themselves, probably used imagining themselves in the life of an Amazon to escape.
Allegory 3.
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Point 1.
“I don't think this should be what I… like.”
There are expectations for you in the world, and certain people, most of the time a trans girl will feel the pressure that she should be this way or act this way but they simply can’t because it's not how their brains work, it's not how they function, and when you're told otherwise you start to think there’s something deeply wrong with you like you’re broken.
Point 2.
“It’s my dad… and the other kids.”
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Trans people, you ever have the dad or either parent feel like they can’t support you and you have the desire to be called your gender but they avoid calling you gendered things at all like “Boy” or “Girl” and avoid gendered things entirely by just calling you “Kid” or “child”? Because that is what this feels like. A relationship between a father and son is strong but when the son shows disinterest in that relationship then the father feels rejected. Their happiness to have a son feels strained and they begin to wonder how they should interact with the child.
“Jack” also feels like their dad doesn't support them and their interests, be it something happening off-panel or the natural feeling trans youth feel like they’re being subtly judged by their parent even though they don't want to say it. That along with their community judging them to their face and ostracizing them for being different.
Point 3.
“Why can't I like Superman or Batman and… I don't know… Baseball and like normal stuff? For a boy? Why is this good?”
Boys feel represented through Superman or Batman, a strong invincible, and macho man. Not a woman, why does Wonder Woman make “Jack” feel seen for the first time in their life? Why does the world of a woman give “Jack” so much escapism? Do you get where I’m going with this?
Point 4.
“Is it because I’m sick inside? Is that why God made me sick?”
It's the idea that inside you, regardless of what you may look like the stuff inside you makes you sick and wrong. The person inside you that you've been holding onto for so long. It's like you feel impure and sinful and like you deserve to be punished for something you didn't ask for cause then maybe the punishment will make everything feel right again.
This to me at the very least sounds like the typical “Superboy trapped in a Wonder Girl’s body” if you know what I mean. I know they're coming to terms with their death and this character might die but I hope they don't, I really do.
This character was supposed to reach out from the pages and touch the reader who relates to it most, like making male Wonder Woman fans feel seen… but how come it reduced me; a trans girl Wonder Woman fan to tears? I felt that I connected to Wonder Woman, I felt my gender through her just like “Jackie” probably does. I selfishly want to see more of them personally.
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Anyway, I love them so so so much. Wonder Woman come in many different shapes and forms and personally I like to think of them as my favorite “Wonder Girl.”
END OF POST.
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