#he got his strength from a memory from ten years ago

[fanatics4l]

today i am sad thinking about how billy didn't have a single person in his life who cared about him or looked after him. we can assume that neil stopped really being there for billy after his mom left, so he most likely became independent and stopped asking people for help once he realized his mom wasn't coming back. he started pushing people away and getting tougher to please his dad, when all he really wanted was for his mom to come back and for someone to hear him.

he had no one throughout possibly ten years of his life and died with the knowledge that no one cared enough to save him. he saved his mom from his dad as much as he could but she still abandoned him. he saved a town he hated but ended up dying for people who would later on barely acknowledge his existence and what he did for them. like oh my goodness this kid was so selfless.

he spent his entire life looking after people who didn't care enough about him to look after him in return. every time susan looked away from him when neil hit him, he probably felt so stupid and little and worthless. billy was a kid forced to be a caretaker before he could even enter his twenties, a caretaker for people who didn't care about him.

#laugh out loud #billy hargrove #me when i make myself sad #i just have so many feelings about this boy #every time i think about how he died before even reaching his twenties #literally like four months after his eighteenth birthday !!!!! #im 😂 #he cared for all these people who never cared enough #he gave up his life for people who hated him #and didn't even try saving him 😊 #he got his strength from a memory from ten years ago #it shows that that was the last time he was ever loved #LIKE #😂😂 #he had no recent memories of what love felt like #girl bye #billy hargrove deserved better

[astroboots]

Heatwave

CO-WRITTEN WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Summary: Santiago and you try to occupy yourselves during another heatwave in Florida.

Rating: Explicit, edging, bratty-ass behavior from one Santiago.

Pairing: Santiago x female reader (you)

Word Count: 4,000

Homecoming Universe | Astroboot’s Masterlist | Thirstworldproblemss' masterlist

At what point does a spiking high temperature no longer count as a heatwave and just becomes the new average temperature for the local area. Is it after the third or sixth heatwave in a month? And for that matter, how many record breaking high temperatures can one summer have in store for a state that is already known for its hot climate?

Fuck! Why did he move back here again?

Santiago is melting. Lying slumped against the cool flooring of the bedroom where the breeze reaches. He's stripped off his clothes, wearing nothing but his boxers and staying far away from any walls because they are fucking radiating heat. At one point he's pretty sure he saw the edges of the walls wobble from the inferno temperature raging outside... either that or his vision is blurring out on him.

It must be what? 150 degrees, 200?? He doesn't care what the weatherman is reporting, there's no fucking way it's only 110 out there.

Leaning his head back down on the cold wooden flooring for reprieve, he can't remember the last time Florida got so hot. (If it has, he hasn't been here to see it).

Shit, it must be even hotter than that time you drove him down to the airport, what was it now, ten or twelve years ago? It got so fucking hot that the radio was warning about staying away from the highway because the tarmac was at risk of melting.

No one in their right mind would've gone out on the road that day. Except you of course. In your shitty little Volvo, with a broken A/C and a clutch that creaked with every change of gear. It's lucky the old piece of junk made it to the airport at all, and nothing short of a miracle that you made it there in time.

He can still see it in his mind's eye. The way your hair was matted with sweat as you pulled up to the drop off point. Still remembers how his old t-shirt was glued to every inch of his sweaty back as he peeled himself off the passenger seat. How, even as disgusting as the two of you felt, drenched in sweat and smelling like two dumpster diving raccoons, having been trapped on the highway for over an hour in that heat, you had held onto his torso as if you were never going to let him go. Your pinkie wrapped around his, so tightly, he was sure the blood circulation was entirely cut off as you told him in no uncertain terms: "You better fucking come back home in one piece, Santiago."

A smile breaks out across his face at the memory. From a distance he can hear the familiar sound of your footfall from the hallway, followed by your voice echoing all the way upstairs as you call out for him.

"Santiagoooo!"

If it wasn't for the heat, he'd call back in response to you. But all the strength is zapped out of him. Plus, he suspects that the reason you're calling for him is to rope him into helping Frankie with the latest crazy home project the man's set on finishing this weekend (and in this heat Santiago's not going anywhere near that).

"Honey." The endearing nickname has him smiling even wider. His mouth parts, just about to respond to you when he hears the rest of your sentence.

"Frankie needs help sanding down the fence."

Bingo.

No way in hell he's responding now.

He can hear you opening and closing doors all over the house in search of him. You'll find him eventually, but it doesn't mean he's not going to take his time enjoying the last few moments of being in the safe shelter out of the sun.

There's a soft click as the door to the bedroom opens. From his limited view on the floor, he sees glimpses of your feet from the corner of his eyes as you march in front of him until you're standing above, looming over his form.

"Santiago. I was looking for you everywhere."

He lets the hand resting on his thigh slide down to the front of his boxers without thought and that catches your immediate attention.

There's a sharp and sudden inhale from you, as if the air is spiked. You look like you've forgotten how to breathe properly.

You liked that huh? The corner of his lips curl into a smile as he holds eye contact with you.

"Sorry, must've dozed off."

"Har, har. Stop lounging around half naked and acting like a thirst trap. Frankie needs help with the fence."

"It's 200 fucking degrees. I'm not going to do that. Frankie can finish his home improvement project when Armageddon isn't happening outside."

You shoot him a small frown. Arms crossing in front of your chest.

He pats the space on the floor right next to himself, as he continues. “Come lay down with me for a second to cool down. You look like you might be overheating. Don’t wanna get heatstroke or anything. Frankie can wait a few minutes.”

You don't move from the spot, making no move to join him. "Poor Frankie is doing all the work."

Santiago's itching to retort that there's nothing "poor" about Frankie's situation. Man is having the time of his life out there. He loves doing these projects.

But Santiago keeps his mouth shut. Because he knows if he doesn't, he'll inevitable set you two up for a back and forth of who's right and wrong, who wins and who's losing the argument, trying to one-up each other the rest of the afternoon. And it's not that Santiago doesn't absolutely love doing that with you but...

Peering up at you, the way your lips are swollen with heat and parted as you look at him, Santiago has a much better idea of how he wants to spend the rest of the afternoon with you.

"Just a little bit, sweetheart," he says, doing his best to sweet talk you as he pats his free hand over the same spot on the floor in invitation. "Come sit with me for one minute, and I promise I'll go help Frankie okay?"

Glancing over your shoulder, you throw a quick glance over the window, probably to check in on Frankie.

"Just a minute, okay?"

"Mhmm. Just one."

It doesn't take more persuasion from him than that. Next thing he knows, you're walking over to him. Soft steps and an even softer gaze in your eyes. Then you sink down on the floor and sit down on the spot right where he patted.

That was... surprisingly easy.

He'd expected more resistance from you. Was fully prepared to do a filibuster marathon to try to convince you to join him. Hadn't quite expected you to just... give into him the way you just did. He blinks up in surprise, at your face mere inches away from him. He's not fully sure what just happened. You've never turned down an opportunity to put up a fight with him before.

You stare down at his chest and bare stomach, lingering there. You swallow down reflexively as you take him in with heated eyes.

Huh...

Santiago knows the effect he has on women. He just never knew he had that effect on you.

As arrogant as it sounds, he knows he's a good looking man. Knows that he's charming to boot. But the relationship between the two of you, for all the love that you had held for each other, had always remained platonic back in the day. You don't look at him the way other women do. And Santiago doesn't flirt with you the way he does with other women. Those were the unspoken rules you two had set for each other from the start and it's all you two have ever known.

And while things have changed now. While Santiago's seen the heated looks you give him when he's in bed with you, your relationship has remained largely unchanged outside of it.

You still pull him up on his bullshit when he's earned it. Never hesitate to square up with him in a competition for anything.

This... This is new.

He taps his bare thigh, almost experimentally to test his theory. He doesn't miss the way your pupils dilate with interest, and as always he can't resist the urge to goad you.

Not when you're eyeing him so appreciatively, in a way that you've never done in the past in all your years of friendships until recently. He figures he's earned the right after all this time to be a little bit obnoxious and revel and preen in the attention from you.

"Cariño," he calls out, until your eyes pulls back up to his face. "Eyes up here," he teases.

You roll your eyes, smacking him in the chest. It's supposedly a playful gesture, but you do it with enough strength that it knocks the breath out of him.

"I know," you retort, but your eyes drift back to his chest and then continue downwards and the attention has heat spearing through his limbs.

"You're still looking," he teases, and his hand snakes down over the plane of his thighs, reveling in your attentive gaze. "Didn't know you were such a perv."

By now you'd usually retaliate or cuss him out, but you don't.

Instead, you continue to stare, eyes blown wide as if you've been cast under a spell, mesmerized.

He palms himself through the front of his boxers, and he can feel the rush of blood rushing down and away from his head as his cock stirs to hardness. If Santiago was considered full of himself before this, it's nothing compared to how he feels in this moment with the way you're looking at him. Your expression blank, like the sight of him has made you lose your ability to speak. Mouth parted, the glistening pink of your tongue peeking out, as if you would devour him if he'd let you.

"Should I give you a show then?" he asks.

After all, if you want to look, he's more than happy to give you something proper to look at.

You nod with an eagerness that has your head bouncing up and down like the bopping bobble head toy Frankie keeps on the dashboard. Santiago lets out a laugh that's more breathless than he had expected from himself. He blames it on the heat.

Dragging down the edge of his boxers, he keeps his eyes on yours as his fingers wrap around the base of himself and his cock jumps in response to the touch.

Shit, that's good. A sweet spike of pleasure runs through him at the languid touch, and he feels breathless with it. His cock is slick with precome that drips down the length with each slide of his hand.

Running his hand up the rigid length, the calloused skin graze against the sensitive skin. Pleasure ooze and drips inside his chest and down his limbs, until his legs tremble with it. Santiago's touched himself countless times before but it's never felt like this before.

Maybe it's the heat that's getting to him. Or maybe it's the way you're inching closer with each passing second until you're practically straddling him on his lap. You and your soft and perfect thighs pressing down on his own, keeping him pinned onto the floor as he tries to keep going. The heat he can feel from between your legs, through the thin layer of cotton that's pressed onto his bare skin. Yeah... maybe it's that.

Santiago goes slow and languid as he touches himself for your benefit. And as ridiculous as it sounds it is for you. Because if it wasn't for you, there's no chance in hell he'd be going this slowly. He'd be fast and almost sloppy, squeezing down on his cock until the desperate need that's riding his spine lets go with his climax. If you weren't here, gorgeous eyes all focused on him, with a look that he wouldn't even let himself dream of in the past, he wouldn't want to prolong it the way he is.

Even now, with the strained effort of taking it as slow as he can possibly stand, he's not entirely sure how long he'll last. He feels like he's on a precarious edge, his climax taunting him, swelling up and simmering with a slow burn in his stomach.

Your torso tilts forward, squirming in his lap, with the tiniest movement every time his hand moves upwards, in time with his strokes.

You're practically riding his thigh, and Jesus fucking christ, that isn't helping Santiago's situation right now. At this point you're both going to come dry humping each other like horny clueless Mormons on their wedding night.

"Sweetheart, wait--" he tries, but you press yourself down on his thigh all the same, and he can feel your sweet slick drip down on his thigh and coat him with it. All he's capable of is a deep and shameless moan.

His cock twitches in his hand, and for several alarming seconds, Santiago thinks that's it. That it's already too late and he's going to come right then and there, spilling himself all over his hand and stomach.

Santiago squeezes down hard around the base of his cock to stave off the needy sensation.

"Shit," he hisses. "Fuck. fuck. Sweetheart, gonna need you to--" he doesn't finish his sentence. Can't spare the seconds it would take to properly think. One hand is already reaching out under your dress (thank god you're wearing a dress) wedging your panties to the side, his other pulling you closer by your waist until your pussy is lined up with the swollen head of his cock.

He doesn't even have time to move his hand in place to grip at his cock before you push down on him. Heat streaks through his insides until his lungs feels like they're burning. Your perfect pussy envelops all of him, every single throbbing aching inch with slick warmth and perfect pressure until his vision whites out.

Fuck, why is he so fucking sensitive.

He can't... fuck, he can't hold on. A desperate groan tears out of his throat and he buries his face into your neck to hide from the sensation that has him surrounded.

He thrusts upwards, canting his hips until you're taking all of him.

Pleasure singes his entire spine, and it burns him alive with it. The heat is unbearable, sweat is plastered to his back, but it doesn't matter. Santiago's skin is damp and sticky, but he's still pressing you closer. Wants every inch of you, warm and gorgeous and so fucking soft, pressed against him in every way he can have you, and he's still not sure if that'd be enough.

Wants to make up for every year, hour, minute and second that he'd wasted of his life, being away from you. Wants all of that even if it kills him.

Planting his feet on the wooden floor for leverage, he grabs your hips to force you down as far as you can take him. Until your head throws back with a high-pitched whine, palms pushing down on his chest as if it's too much for you to handle, and he lets go, sinking down his hips back towards the floor, until only the tip of him rests inside you.

He gives you a handful of seconds to catch your breath. Then he grabs your waist and push you down on his cock. Again, and again. To the gorgeous sounds of your keen moans and whines all blended into one, as you're sobbing out his name.

Forceful, deep thrusts that has tears pushing in the corner of your eyes. He keeps going as the sweet aching heat has him drunk and euphoric on you, with each and every rise and cant of his hips.

He's not going to last. Shit, shit, he's not going to last like this.

But that's okay. Because judging from the way you're grinding against him. Needy and desperate. Your cunt squeezing so tight around his cock it makes it hard to breathe, you're not going to last either.

His hand strays down below your stomach, sliding between your legs until his thumb catches at your clit, slippery and wet, and absolutely dripping for him. You sob at the contact, wracked in shivers as he continues to rub smooth little circles over it, and he can feel just how close you are.

You're perfect. Eyes squeezed shut, head tilted back in surrender, a high-pitched whine escaping your throat and oh fuck Santiago was not prepared for this.

His brain stalls out, hand stopping as his movements comes to a still to take in the sight before him because...You are so fucking beautiful like this.

"Santiago, what the fuck, make me—" you're slapping his shoulder, voice high pitched and desperate that makes his spine tingle as you grind on him. "Fuck make me cum, don't be an ass."

Fuck what is he doing?

Santiago's not sure. Not sure why he's stopped, even as every nerve and muscle in him is screaming for him to chase after the pleasure until both of you are coming.

Not sure why he's just sitting there dumbfounded. Except, this is everything he's wanted for so long that he's denied himself and he realizes that right now— it's here, landed in his very lap. You're the woman he's loved for so long, no matter how much he's denied it to himself, and he just wants to make this moment last.

All he knows is that he doesn't want this to end.

"Wait, sweetheart," he murmurs, even as you squirm from his grip pinning you in place. "Just give me a second. Want to remember this," and he means it with more sincerity than he ever thought he had left in him as he stares up at you in complete awe.

He wants it to last.

Not just out of a ill-placed sense of pride. Not just because he knows you're going to give him shit for coming too fast.

He just wants this to last. Wants you in his arms like this. Wants you to look at him, just like this, like you need him to survive, more than your next breath. This. This. This. He wants it to last forever.

You don't listen to him though. Of course you don't, because you never make it that easy for him. Your hips roll against him, grinding with desperation until his cock nudges something devastatingly perfect that has him convinced his brain is melting.

Shit, he has to stop. Oh fuck oh fuck, he's too close—

"Stop stop," he warns, hand gripping down on your hips to stop you "Boa, Stop— fuck you're gonna make me—"

But it's too late. It's already happening. He can feel his cock pulse and throb as he spills himself inside of you, shuddering through his orgasm— and fuck this was not how it was supposed to go down.

Everything slows. It's everywhere, rushing through him with a chaotic frenzy as it wrings him dry. The euphoric sensation overcrowding everything else, and his head feels like he is going to split with it. He can't think. Can't breathe.

But even in his post-cum haze he knows you still haven't come and he can't have that.

Santiago grits through it. Biting down and clenching on his jaw to ride through the over-brimming sensation that threatens to burst out of his skin as he continues to thrust into you.

Oversensitive and overstimulated. Every slick slide of your perfect pussy has him gasping for air. It's too much. Like live wires are running through his skin and every cant of your hips against him sets every receptor in his brain on overdrive. His cock is so sensitive, he can feel every fraction of you wrapped around him.

And it's perfect and it's good. And it's just so fucking much.

You're burning hot. He feels feverish and on the brink of delirium from the heat. Like he's inside a live furnace, but he doesn't want to stop. Can't stop. Not until he's seen your eyes roll into the back of your head. Not until you've come apart for him.

Locking his arm over the small of your back, he flips you over, onto your back. Pushing his free hand between your bodies until his thumb is rubbing rough little circles on your clit again.

He keeps going, pushing inside even as every nerve at him is screaming for respite. Santiago doesn't stop though. You're so close, and he just has to hold on even as each flutter and squeeze of your cunt is pushing him over the edge of too much.

Doesn't stop even as your gorgeous eyelashes flutter dramatically, your eyes rolling back as you kick your leg out and finally, finally comes on his cock.

The sensation of your climax punches the last breath out of him. He can hear himself whine pathetically into your neck.

The overwhelming tightness of you, your pussy squeezing and clenching down over and over, as if you're trying to wring and empty him out of anything he has left him. It brings him to his knees and collapses into you.

Everything feels sticky and clammy. Both of you drenched, as he's pinning you down with his weight. He feels weightless and heavy all at the same time. It doesn't make sense and shouldn't even be possible. But it certainly didn't help him in his efforts to move

To the protest of his exhausted limbs, Santiago rolls over to lay on his back next to you there on the floor. Both of you sweaty and panting.

God this might have been a bad idea.

It was too fucking hot even before all the physical exertion, now it's like an inferno. He's seconds from passing out. But at least the floor is marginally cooler against his back than the surrounding air, while you're laying there catching their breath.

Every inch of him thrums with pleasure, and his body practically tingles with the afterglow of his climax. But he can't help the scowl on his face. He's mentally cringing.

He came too fast.

Shot his load like some overeager virgin.

And there's no fucking way you wouldn't have noticed that he came before you. It's only a matter of you catching your breath, before you start giving him shit about it.

He lies there, staring up at the ceiling, preemptively trying to come up with some kind of defense or comeback but nothing comes to him. The only thing that fills his head is the image of your eyes from seconds ago, gazing down on him, looking at him the way that deep down, through all those years of platonic friendship, for all the way he's tried to repressed it, he's always wanted you to look at him.

It's so fucking stupid, but his stomach flutters pleasantly at the memory.

"Hey, Santiago...?"

He closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face trying desperately to pull himself together. Because even though he knows it's coming. Right now he feels too naked and raw, without protection to brace himself at whatever joke you're sure to make next at his expense.

Feels a little bit too exposed after that perfect moment of having everything he never let himself acknowledge that he wanted right there in his arms.

He swallows, bracing himself for the witty remark, as he responds to you with a weak, "Yeah?"

You don't say anything.

Instead, he feels just the barest touch against his hand, and he looks down. Your fingers slides against the heel of his hand, searching for his hand before you find his pinkie and curl around it. He drags his eyes back towards your face and you have the softest smile on your sweaty, gorgeous face.

"I'm glad you're here," you say, there's no sarcasm there. Your voice is soft and quiet, and so sincere.

He doesn't know what is happening to him but his chest constricts and is drawn so tight it's painful. And suddenly he's blinking back tears. Call him dramatic, but for a brief moment Santiago swears the chest pains are a sign of cardiac arrest, until you grip his pinkie tighter and the pain eases.

"Yeah...." Santiago nods. Has to clear his throat before he can get the rest of the words out from the lump that is lodged in his throat. "Yeah, me too. Sweetheart. Me too."

Sweat sticks to his back, and the heat is unbearable. But he doesn't want to move. Doesn't ever want to leave this spot with you lying next to him.

He'll never admit it out loud. But he knows why even though he hates Florida with every inch of his soul, he'll always find his way back here. Why no matter how far away he goes, a part of him will always be left behind here. A long long time ago in the drop off zone of Miami International, on a disgusting hot and sweaty day just like today, he made a promise. He promised that he'll always came back home to you.

Dedication & Credits: To my dearest @thirstworldproiblemss who came up with that DEVASTATING concept of the pinkie holding post-sex.

Follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#oscar isaac #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fanfiction #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago x reader x frankie morales #frankie morales #pedro pascal

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen: Twenty Years Later

Plot: In the middle of the night, Y/n and Joel contemplate their future in Jackson.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: language, reference to violence, death, blood, guns, loss of a child (16+)

A/N: And here we are…the last chapter. I have a little farewell note posted at the bottom of this, and I hope y’all read it. Until then, enjoy this last bit of Joel and Rosebud’s story 💞

—————

Life in the apocalypse was noisy. Between public executions, FEDRA vehicles, work shifts, fights breaking out…Cordyceps was intended to silence the planet, but it had only made it louder.

Y/n was contemplating the silence of Jackson, holding a steaming mug of tea, sitting at the dining room table. Her dining room table. In her house. The house she now shared with Ellie and Joel. It would take a long time to get used to thinking of anything other than a backpack and whatever they were wearing as theirs…

They’d arrived at Jackson’s gates just before sunset, the guards escorted them in after having the dogs check them for infection. By the end of their hike, Joel was practically carrying Y/n, and the last bit of her strength drained as they got into town. Tommy, thankfully, had been working nearby and helped Joel and Ellie get her back to the house. Y/n had fallen asleep the moment her body was laid across the familiar bed, and she’d slept straight through the evening hours.

Until she couldn’t.

Y/n had woken up in the middle of the night with Joel snoring lightly, his arm draped over her hips. He smelled the best he had in months, the usual layer of dirt and grime missing from his skin. Any other time, Y/n could have stayed there happily and listened to him breathe, but her mind was restless and she felt suffocated by the sheets.

Naturally, when Joel stirred and found himself cuddling nothing but air, he was wide awake.

The staircase creaked and drew Y/n’s eyes up from her cup, Joel came through the kitchen seconds later. Dressed in sweatpants, a grey t-shirt, and with his hair mussy from rubbing against his pillow, Y/n drank in the sight much as she was her tea; slowly, letting the comforting warmth ease her into memories of simpler times.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Joel asked, his voice gravelly with exhaustion.

“Wonder why,” Y/n replied, looking back down at her mug.

Joel padded over to the dining table, pulling out the seat across from Y/n. There was a visible duality to her, tranquility in her posture, her movements, her voice…and yet, a two-ton burden on her back.

“Do you know what this is?” Y/n asked, warming both her palms on her mug.

Joel knew she wasn’t actually searching for any answer and stayed silent.

“Tea,” Y/n continued, “With herbs they grow here. And I boiled it with water,” she tilted her head back towards the kitchen counter, “Hot water.”

Joel chuckled, “Yeah, that’s gonna take some gettin’ used to.”

“I couldn’t tell you the last time I had tea,” Y/n shook her head, “Ten…fifteen years ago?”

“Maybe we work on coffee next,” Joel suggested with a smile.

“Oh, in the interest of preserving your temperament, I think it’s necessary,” Y/n smiled back, taking a sip of her beverage.

Joel knew they were dancing around whatever was weighing on her. They’d done enough intricate footwork around their own landmines the last three months.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” Joel finally asked.

Y/n’s eyes were locked on Joel’s side, but she wasn’t actually registering what her gaze was focused on. A crack in the floor or a chip in the wall paint…something that was enough nothing to allow her thoughts the space they needed.

“That look,” she answered, her eyes finally flicking to Joel’s, “Joel, that look.”

Joel sighed, he didn’t need any more words to know what she was referring to.

“How are we going to do this?” Y/n asked, lowering her voice as if Ellie was in the room and not sleeping soundly upstairs. She’d poked her head through the girl’s bedroom door to confirm before slipping downstairs.

“We just do it,” Joel answered, shrugging a hand and letting it drop back to his lap.

“We just lie to her? For the rest of her life?” Y/n asked again, “Joel, there’s no way she doesn’t already know.”

They had their separate trepidations about the charade they would put on for Ellie. But Joel had constructed the lie, Y/n was simply trying to read from the story he’d written.

“I just…” Y/n shut her eyes and drew a breath that walked the line between trembling and steady, “I keep thinking about it, a-all…everything we did and I…”

Joel was unsettled by the hesitation in Y/n’s tone, “Are you sayin’ you regret it?”

Y/n’s eyes flew open, “No. Never,” she said firmly, “Ever, will I regret that. I just…it’s all so jumbled in my head.”

That was one aspect of what had happened at the hospital that Joel hadn’t thought to consider. He’d never been for the Fireflies, saving Ellie had just been one more act of rebellion against them. But Y/n had been betrayed by the people she trusted with her life, and in turn, trusted her with theirs. Rescuing Ellie had been her own act of betrayal.

Joel reached across the table and encircled her wrist, his fingers lightly massaging her pulse.

“I gave everything,” Y/n said softly, “I worked so hard for Marlene to trust me, and she only ever saw me as something to manipulate. I walked Ellie across the country, risked all of our lives when the whole time, I was just marching her to her death for a cure,” she pointed towards the front of the house as if the Fireflies were waiting in their living room, “That we had no guarantee would even work.”

Joel listened, absorbing the vague details of the years she’d spent apart from him.

“And now,” Y/n bit down on her lip, “Now we have to pretend like everything’s fine. Like we didn’t do what we did, like we’re telling the truth, until she figures it out.”

“C’mon, she’s n-“

“She’s smart, Joel,” Y/n argued, confronting his denial, “She can see right through us. And one day,” Y/n fought back the tears that wanted to speak for her, “We’ll lose her.”

Behind actually losing Ellie and Y/n to death, losing them to his own sins was his greatest fear. He was right beside her in the knowledge that if Ellie discovered the truth of what had happened in Salt Lake, she’d never forgive either of them. It made him want to lie all the more convincingly to keep it from happening.

Joel reached across the table, taking the mug from Y/n and setting it next to her. He held both her hands in his, gripping them tightly to drive his point home.

“We are going to tell her what we need to,” he said, his tone soft but the words were spoken with strength, “Otherwise we tell her exactly what you just said. That she would’ve been killed for something that wasn’t even guaranteed.”

Y/n swallowed, thinking over the two options. The second one worsened the ache in her stomach, the pain of Marlene’s deceit was still fresh.

“And we give her a life here,” Joel continued, “Where she can be with kids her age, go to school…be fuckin’ normal.”

The truth of it was, even if there had been a 100% guarantee that Ellie’s death would ensure a Cordyceps cure, Y/n and Joel still would have saved her. Because, whether they could admit it out loud or not, she was their kid. They hadn’t conceived her, they hadn’t known her for the first fourteen years of her life, but she was theirs in every sense of the word. And there was no length a parent wouldn’t go to for their child.

“Normal,” Y/n repeated, her lips quirking upwards.

“I know,” Joel chuckled under his breath, “Relative term.”

They shared a smile and Y/n took the opportunity to admire how the low glow of the nearby lamp softened Joel’s entire face. His wrinkles and frown lines didn’t seem so deep, the darkness of his eyes strayed from intimidating and became inviting.

“We give her what she deserves,” Joel finished, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of Y/n’s hands, “Happiness.”

Happiness. The feeling had eluded them both for so long. They’d found some form of it in the small moments, in the few people they’d met throughout the pandemic, but it had never felt true. Perhaps because they’d kept distance between themselves and any possible source of joy, or perhaps because they’d thought true happiness couldn’t survive in a world like theirs. But regardless of their attempts or assumptions, Joel, Ellie and Y/n had a real shot at it now. They could stay happy for as long as they wanted.

Y/n eyed her backpack that was sitting on the chair at the furthest end of the table. Happiness was tied up in the last secret she was keeping from Joel.

Joel was confused as Y/n let go of his hands and stood up, bracing herself on the table as she rose with a grunt. The fight against the Fireflies, plus her stunt with the epinephrine, would cost her weeks more of healing.

He watched as she scooted the chair away so her body blocked it from his view. She unzipped it, reached in and pulled something out Joel wasn’t allowed to see yet.

Y/n inhaled and turned around, holding the object up for display.

Joel’s breath caught in his chest.

It was the butterfly cling that had hung in his window back in Boston.

“I figured when I took it, I’d be in for a screaming match eventually,” Y/n said with the smallest of smiles, she couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Joel had meant it when he said that Ellie and Y/n had healed him. They had brought back the pieces of him that he’d tried to amputate long ago. But the watch would still never leave his wrist, his eyes would forever catch on people that bore any resemblance to his daughter. He would never be fully ready to live without Sarah’s memory.

Y/n had stolen the decoration from Joel’s apartment in a moment of pure emotion. She hadn’t taken her chance to retrieve any of Sarah’s posessions from the Miller’s house, and she’d regretted it for twenty years. She had nothing to remind her of her daughter, and she needed to physically hold some piece of her. The butterfly, such a prominent part of Sarah’s personality, represented all that had been lost, but the beauty that was retained in remembering the sweet girl.

Joel’s chair scraped against the floor as he rose to his feet, coming to stand in front of Y/n. He ran his hand over the decoration, his throat clogging a little both from sentiment and understanding why Y/n had hid it from him. The worst version of him had tried to steal her memories of Sarah so long ago, and he was so grateful that she hadn’t let him.

“Where were you, uh,” Joel trailed off, trying to compose himself, “Where were you thinkin’ for it?”

“Kitchen window, maybe,” Y/n considered, “All that sunlight that’ll come through?”

Unable to take his eyes off the butterfly, Joel just nodded along. Y/n ran a hand over his bicep, steering the two of them towards the kitchen. They stopped at the sink, Joel pushed back the faded curtains and they saw the full possibility of the view. Sunbeams would shine through the glass pane, illuminating the butterfly’s indigo blue all around the room.

Y/n untangled the chain and took hold of the cling, reaching up and sticking it to the center of the window. She stood back, Joel’s chest waiting for her to lean back into, and the two of them rested in the quiet. Healing and misery were intertwined in the moment. The hole left in their hearts by Sarah’s death would remain, but instead of living despite her death, this felt like the beginning of living for her memory. In their everyday moments, cooking breakfast, washing dishes…Sarah could be with them.

Y/n rotated in Joel’s arms, reaching down to take both his hands.

“There’s only one way I’m doing all of this with you, Miller,” she said, referencing everything from lying to Ellie to sleeping in the same bed.

“Hmm?” Joel hummed.

Y/n sighed and smiled easily, if they were reclaiming all that they’d lost, they were reclaiming all of it.

She led Joel back across the room, returning to the table and reaching into her backpack for her flashlight before pulling them towards the front door. She let go of Joel’s hand only long enough to put her jacket on and for him to do the same.

“Where are we-” Joel started to ask as Y/n unlocked the door.

“Just…“ Y/n tugged him toward the front porch, eager to let her actions speak for her.

Joel shut the door behind them and followed her down the porch steps. The snow had returned and there was a light fall beginning to accentuate the edges of the house. Y/n turned on her flashlight and shined it in front of them, leading them out of their neighborhood and towards the center of town.

“You should be takin’ it slower,” Joel reprimanded lightly, worried that Y/n’s ribs stood to get worse.

Every step caused an ache in her abdomen, but Y/n’s steps refused to falter. She was on a mission.

She led them through town, the strands of lights from building to building helping to light the path to their destination. Through her memories, she tried to pick out specific pieces of the tour Maria had given them weeks ago, searching out one building in particular.

“I think this is it…” Y/n muttered under her breath, dragging Joel up the steps to peer through the windows, “Yeah, this is it.”

“What’s it?” Joel asked, completely lost and freezing cold.

Y/n made an educated guess that security weren’t a major concern within Jackson’s walls and tried the door. It opened immediately for her.

“Y/n, what’re we-“

“Come on,” Y/n tugged Joel through the door, using the flashlight to light their way inside the building.

Joel couldn’t see more than two feet ahead of them, but despite his confusion, he trusted whatever Y/n was up to. She walked them deeper inside, eventually shining her flashlight upwards of their path on an alter.

They were inside Jackson’s church.

Joel’s heart stopped counting time for one beat, he knew exactly what she was doing.

“Okay,” Y/n exhaled, putting her hands on both of Joel’s arms and inching him closer to the alter, “I think you’re supposed to be here…”

Joel watched her in a daze, pliant as clay in her palms.

“And then I…” Y/n looked back down the way they’d come, “Hang on.”

Y/n hurried back down the alter steps, taking small hastened steps down the aisle to get back to the grand wooden doors. Her empty hand hung in the air as she looked around for something, anything to hold, till she realized if this was going to be imperfect…it needed to be totally imperfect.

She held the flashlight under her chest in both hands, the glow illuminating her face.

Joel watched her from the alter and laughed.

“Ba-dum, ba-dum,” Y/n began to sing the familiar march, taking as theatrical of steps as her ribs would allow her.

“Y’know, I never envisioned you walking down the aisle to that song,” Joel smiled, allowing himself to fall into the fantasy of the moment.

“Oh, really, what did you envision?” Y/n asked, slowing her steps.

Joel shook his head, breathless and beaming, “I don’t think I care any more.”

Y/n tried to contain her grin, failing miserably as she continued the stroll that was fighting to become a sprint.

Eventually, she made it to the alter, her eyes never leaving Joel’s as she climbed the three steps and came to stand across from him. Y/n set the flashlight in the space between them, letting the light shine upwards to the ceiling.

Joel reached out and took her hands into his, his cheeks practically splitting from how hard he was trying to hold his smile back. “Don’t we need witnesses?”

“Mm-hm,” Y/n hummed, “And we’ll do it all over again with Tommy and Ellie and Maria…this is just for us.”

Even if they’d had the whole nine yards, Y/n in a flowing white gown and Joel in a tuxedo, roses and candles and music…neither one of them could have imagined a more perfect moment than the one they had.

“Okay,” Y/n cleared her throat and adjusted her grip on Joel’s hands, “Dearly beloved…”

“Oh, shit,” Joel couldn’t help but laugh at the formality.

“If we’re doin’ this, we’re doin’ it right,” Y/n laughed with him, “Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today, at the end of the world, to bring together this man and this woman in holy matrimony…without an ordained minister, or a license.”

Joel dropped his head and snorted.

“In this day and age, marriage sounds pointless,” Y/n continued her speech as if she were the preacher, “But I think it’s more necessary than ever. Because at the end of the day, everyone needs something to cling to. Some hope to hold onto when everything feels hopeless…” Y/n shakily inhaled, “Something to fight for.”

Joel was already on the verge of tears and he hadn’t even spoken yet.

Y/n exhaled and tried to collect her thoughts, “I think we do the vows next…want me to go first?”

“No,” Joel whispered, “I’ll go.”

Y/n nodded and held onto Joel a little tighter, trying to steady them both.

There were a million things Joel could have said, and twenty years ago, he’d imagined saying to Y/n. How much he loved her, how excited he was for their future, his dreams for them and Sarah and the babies they’d have…he never thought he’d use his wedding vows to apologize.

“The day I lost you…was one of the darkest days of my life,” he began, speaking with a surprising strength, “And at some point, when I realized how wrong I was…I had to make peace with knowing I’d never see you again. With the idea that you might have…” Joel trailed off, unable to finish the gruesome thought, “And I thought I had, but…the second I saw you again, I realized I hadn’t put you away. Not for a minute. How could I?”

Y/n sniffled, wanting to wipe the building tears away but unable to let go of Joel for even half a second.

“I will spend the rest of my life,” Joel’s voice closed up, trying to swallow the lump of sorrow in his throat, “Knowing I can never make up for what I did…but I will do everything and anything I can to make you happy.”

Joel had sat on so many words for so long, but there was one thing he needed to make sure she knew.

“Then and now,” Joel confessed, caressing her with sentiment, “You’re my…everything.” he paused, a few uncontrollable tears escaping his eyes, “And you were the best mom to our daughter.”

Y/n closed her eyes, two tears falling down her cheeks. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed to hear Joel call her what they both knew she was.

“And I love you,” he promised, “And I’m never lettin’ you go again. Ever.”

Joel sniffled and wiped his eyes on his jacket sleeve, “Your turn.”

Y/n chuckled, blinking away the rest of her tears to attempt half of what Joel had.

“I know that everything’s different now,” Y/n began, “That we’re different people than we were when we met. But when I look at you,” she huffed a breath, allowing herself to be taken by the depth of Joel’s eyes, “I still see the same man I fell in love with twenty years ago. The one who only gets out of bed in the morning for his coffee and sleeps with the fan on and won’t let anybody take care of him.”

Joel chuckled, fiddling with Y/n’s hands.

“But I see this man too,” she continued, pulling one inch closer to Joel, “The one who I’ve spent the last three months trying not to fall back in love with only to find out…I never fell out of it.”

Y/n was confronting her fears from three months before and Joel’s ever-present one; that his sins were insurmountable and she’d forever be afraid of the darkest parts of him.

“I want you,” Y/n said with unmistakable sureness, “All of you. Every part. The good, the bad, and what you’ll never ever show anyone. Because even with all of this,” Y/n gestured around them, “All the blood and the sickness and what we’ve all done to survive…you’re still you. You’re still my Joel.”

Joel was certain that whatever was left of him died with Sarah, having Y/n there to look into his soul and see the true him was a gift he wasn’t sure he’d ever be worthy of.

“We missed twenty years together. We can’t change that,” Y/n shook her head, speaking quickly before Joel could begin to guilt himself, “But we can love each other with everything we have for however long we have left. And I promise you,” she squeezed their hands, “That there won’t be a single minute of a single day where I won’t love you with my whole heart.”

With everything Joel had in him, he wanted to pull Y/n into his body and kiss for everything she was worth. But in keeping with the show they were putting on, he restrained himself.

“We don’t have rings,” Joel whispered with a smile.

“No,” Y/n sniffled and laughed, “I figured we work on those tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Joel nodded, “Isn’t there somethin’ else? Somethin’ we’re supposed to recite?”

“Yeah, let’s see if I remember any of it,” Y/n chuckled, “Do you, Joel Miller, take this woman to be your not-quite-lawfully wedded wife-“

Joel couldn’t stop himself from laughing once more at the complete invalidity of what they were doing.

“In sickness and in health,” Y/n raised an eyebrow, “For richer or poorer, if either of those apply to communism, for better or worse ‘til death do us part?”

Joel refused to listen to the last five words, he wanted the very moment they were living to stretch on forever. And in a way, it could. They were safe, finally, and they could spend the rest of their lives growing old together. Joel’s long fight was over, his only job now was to love and cherish Ellie and Y/n.

“I do,” he grinned, matching Y/n’s, “And do you, Y/n Y/l/n, take this old man-“

Y/n snorted and shook her head at Joel.

“To be your not-at-all-lawfully wedded husband,” he continued, “In sickness and health and bad knees, for richer or poorer,” Joel drew strength from his next breath, “Even though we’re communists…for better or worse, ‘til death do us part?”

In Y/n’s mind, she saw a supercut of moments throughout her time with Joel that had stood the test of time. Meeting him in a downtown bar, dancing with him on their first date, their first kiss on the ferris wheel, countless nights at home with him and Sarah, holding her in his arms just a few hours before their lives had ended…except they hadn’t ended. They had always been on the road back to one another, even if they hadn’t known it. Despite the trials they’d faced, fate had always been waiting for them at an alter.

“I do,” Y/n whispered through her tears.

Even though the whole thing had been Y/n’s idea, Joel was still relieved by her answer. It was the final piece of forgiveness that he felt he still needed to earn from her.

“Do I get to kiss you now?” Joel asked, his hands nearly twitching with how badly he wanted to reach for Y/n.

“Not yet,” she laughed, “By the power vested in me and my impatience, I now pronounce us man and wife. You may kiss your-“

Joel was on her before she could finish her monologue, wrapping one arm around her waist and cupping her cheek in his palm as he pressed his lips to hers. Y/n both smiled and cried into the kiss, overwhelmed not only by the man she loved, but by the relief she felt. Marrying Joel was the healing of the wound she’d nursed for two decades, because it secured their future. It didn’t look just how they wanted it, but they had one. They never ever had to be apart from one another again. For the first time in a long time, Y/n’s mind, her body and her heart were completely at ease.

Joel had never been a believer in everything happening for a reason, but as he kissed his wife, his wife, he knew that he was sorely in the wrong. Every step he’d taken since walking away from her, from Austin to Boston, had been a step in the journey back to her. To her life-giving lips, her tender embrace, her fierce devotion and to the fullness of her love…to his Rosebud.

They stood as one at the alter, pouring everything they’d ever felt and ever would feel for one another into their kiss. Each brush of their lips and touch of skin took them back in time, transforming them to some hybrid of their current and younger selves. From meeting on an ordinary May evening and falling in love over a hot Austin summer, to losing one another and reuniting in a blood soaked hall with pistols aimed at one another. From saving one another’s lives throughout their trek and all the reluctantly tender moments they’d shared along the way, to finally losing the battle with their long buried feelings and sealing their fate to save their daughter, Y/n and Joel could have sworn it all happened yesterday.

Give or take twenty years.

————

A/N: Wow…I don’t know where to begin.

I wrote the first chapter as a one-shot and asked if anyone would be interested in me expanding to a series. The name Rosebud didn’t exist, there were no theories to be created, and all I had was a poorly constructed idea of Joel Miller and the love of his life having to trek through the country, hating and loving each other all at once. YOU GUYS turned it into what it ended up being. You asked for more and you cheered and encouraged me on to the finish line. This little world has blown up and it’s all thanks to you reading, liking, commenting and reposting each chapter. I will never be able to put into words how thankful I am for y’all.

All good things come to an end, and for now, this is the end of Rosebud, Joel and Ellie’s weekly adventures. I’m already planning some one-shots and future chapters about life in Jackson, but they’ll come much more infrequently. I will keep the taglist open for whoever (16+) wants to join along the way, but my gosh, I’m so going to miss writing this every week. This has been such a fun few months, getting to watch TLOU every Sunday evening and then hit the keyboard with ideas for new chapters. Writing Twenty Years Later will definitely be one of my favorite parts of this year.

I love and cherish all 2.3k of my new friends that I’ve gotten to meet since starting this. To all of you, from the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU.

And, of course, when you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light 😉💖

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @themultifandomofmadness @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #twenty years later

[igotanidea]

Glimmer: Jason Todd x reader

request: Jason Todd x fem!reader who is optimistic, sees good in people and gives him hugs and kisses when he comes from patrol.

****

She never knew it, and even if she did she would totally refuse to believe it, but there was something in her eyes that always made Jason feel better about world and about himself. A bit.

He met Y/N on one of his night patrols and not-so-surprisingly rescued her from a mugger. Typical Gotham occurrence, but unlike any other citizen of this god-forsaken city she did not seem shaken or terrified or even sad.

“How are you so fine with what happened?” instead of taking off the second the robber was dealt with Jason found himself captured by her unusual behavior

“I’m not” she sighed deeply and her e/c orbs focused on him, making him shake inside due to the intensity of the gaze “I’m not all right with how Gotham affects people. That the poor had to go to the great lengths to survive on the streets while crime lords have everything. I’m not fine with the fact that kids here suffer because their parents abandoned them. I hate that GCPD seem helpless when it comes to dealing with all this shit and vigilantes have to take matters in their own hands.”

“So, pretty much you hate Batman?” Jason scoffed, trying to act casually, not showing how touched he was by the mention of kids on the streets. After all, he was one of them many years ago and the memory of what he went through was still hunting him sometimes.

“I never said that!” she laughed. She laughed a few seconds after a traumatic events. “I admire everything he does. But unlike our fierce protector, I’d rather focus on seeing good in people.”

“Good?” Jason scoffed, his helmet muffling the sound a bit “There’s nothing good in this shithole.”

‘Maybe that is your problem, Red. Your aim is to get rid of the crime lords. Arguably by killing them all off….”

“I don’t do that anymore.” He chimed in

“Then hurting them. Injuring them. Making them remember the pain. I’d rather spread the good emotions. Like in the homeless shelter where I volunteer after work. Or at the child center. You should see the smile on those people faces just because you gave them ten minutes of your time. To talk, to actually ask them how they feel, if there’s anything they would like to do. Elders have so many to say, yet no one ever listens. And children, those poor little souls, who did nothing wrong in their life, except for what’s necessary to survive. A hug or a joke is enough to make them cry happy tears.”

“You’re being awfully optimistic, aren’t you?”

“Can’t help being who I am” she smiled so bright, Jason could swear that it lighted up the whole alley “you should try that sometimes, Red Hood. Anyway, sorry for keeping you this long, bet you have another parts of the city to patrol.” Once again her beaming, hopeful, sincere eyes landed on his face (or rather helmet) “thank you for helping me. I know you do not see yourself this way, but what you do matters. The method may be a bit extreme, but still, I appreciate what you did. What you do.”

“I……” Jason stuttered. It was the first time someone actually said something like that to him. Was he really good in her eyes?

“I gotta go.” She shook he head, hair falling all over her face and Jason had to use all his strength to fight the urge to brush those strands of. There was something about this girl…. ”Stay safe, Hood, will you?” she turned around and started walking away, but he called after her, making her stop.

“Can I get your name?!”

“Wonder why that matters to you.” she laughed, but decided in favor of answering “It’s Y/N. My name’s Y/N.”  with a single wave of the hand she was gone, leaving Jason wondering and muttering that single word over and over again.

***

“Hey, Drake. I got a favor to ask.”

“And out of all the people in the world you came to me?” Tim raised an eyebrow “You must be truly desperate, Todd.”

“I can always go and ask Barbara. Bet she’ll deal with the search I need much faster than you. She’s an expert after all.” Jason smirked knowing well enough how the reverse psychology affected Tim.

“Better!? No way!! What do you need?” the younger boy spun around on the chair, now facing the bat computer, fingers hanging over the keyboard, twitching in anticipation.

“I want to find a person. I only got a name, Y/N, possible living location and I know she works at the homeless shelter and kid center. Can you target her?”

“don’t know.” Tim tapped his chin, wondering “Is he a Red Hood’s object of interest or Jason Todd’s one?”

Fuck. There was no good answer to that question and Jason found himself falling right into Tim’s trap. 

“Let’s say a little bit of both.”

“Whatever you say……”

***

Tim was faster than Jason anticipated and with just a few clicks and searches he managed to locate the girl. And just a few minutes later, after breaking some speed limits (Bruce would pay for the tickets obviously) Todd was in front of the building she was spending her evening at.

It’s been a while since Jason seen so many hurt and scared people in one place and that reminded him how much crime actually was in Gotham. He was fighting some part of it, but the rest…. Damn it. The view was just painful. Starting from a few-years old, ending up on the elders, every age group has a representation in this place. And amongst all those citizens he saw Y/N. With messy hair and a smudge of something that seemed like a paint, but was awfully similar to blood she was telling a story to a bunch of kids, one of them placed on her knees. That little dirt on her cheek made Jason shudder. In the depths of his mind he already saw her injured, bleeding in some alley, after being attacked or raped, her optimistic attitude not serving as a shield.  But apparently her positive attitude was not a result of obliviousness and being raised in separation from the bad aspects of life, but rather the opposite. She experienced the sadness and pain everyday while working with those people and yet, remained cheerful. That was….. strangely alluring.

“Hey there.” She put the kid down, noticing him standing in the aisle, looking confused “Are you lost? Are you hurt? Do you need help?” she was so tiny in comparison with a tank Jason was and she wanted to help him. Not even expecting anything in return.  

“No…. I ……”

“Hey, it’s ok.” she reassured, putting a hand on his shoulder and he immediately felt the warmth coming all over his body. “You’re safe here. We can give you any aid you need.”

“I don’t need help. “ Jason shook his head.

“You sure?” she tilted her head “Cause it seems to me like you got a strained muscles, a bruise on the jaw and some cuts on the forearms.”

“You are quite observant, aren’t you?”

“Did my time as a doctor assistant.” She shrugged “never get to finish though”

“Why?”

“Um… you know, typical Gotham stuff. Parents getting shot. No one to help me pay for college…. I had to tend for myself and that required a full time job, not just studying. So I dropped. Became an assistant nurse instead. Shitty job, shitty pay, shitty work hours, but  get to make ends meet.”

“And you still find time to volunteer?”

“Like I said to someone before, I’d rather help people by spreading good. Seriously, can I help you with anything…..?”her voice hanged a bit and it took him a while before realizing she was waiting for hi name.

“I’m Jason. And I …. I think I want to be a volunteer as well.”

***

It’s been three years since then.

Three years in which she was constantly surprising him with her attitude, her smile, her uptake on things.

Three years of her being his rock, getting him through the shittiest, lowest day, never letting him give up or his darkness and shadow consume him. She was his ray of sun on those days when he had no power to push through.

Jason was not the first person to trust people, but somehow she managed to gain it quite quickly. After a few months of acquaintance, shaking because of the emotions (mostly fear) he told her about his alter ego, awaiting abandonment, terrified, judgmental gaze and her leaving him for good.

There was a moment of silence after his confession, two young adults just sitting on the couch opposite of each other. Jason looking down, silent begging for her to not leave him, missing the fact that Y/N’s signature honest gaze were focused on him.

“Jason….” she said quietly, careful not to startle him “Jace, please look at me.” The boy hesitantly raised his head, scared what he might see on the girl’s face “did you think I would leave you?”

“Yes.” He blurted not able to control himself anymore.

“You silly boy.” She leaned forward slightly, reaching for his cheek, not touching yet, since she learned how hard physical contact was for him “Can I?”

“Please….” He mumbled, and once she cupped his face, immediately leaned into the touch. So touch starved, so desperate for her, without even realizing this.

“Listen to me, Jason Todd. I am not going anywhere.”

“You’re not?”

“Of course not.” she whispered “I’m honestly a bit offended you could even think something like that. Do you even know me?”

“I know you see good in place where there is none. And I’m no good. I’m bad news, always have been and….”

“Oh, for crying out loud.” She hissed and not giving a shit about being gentle put her lips on his, the urge being just too strong to hold it anymore. “Sorry….” Just a few seconds later she realized what she did and pulled back, her face turning apologetic. “I didn’t mean to push….”

“Come back here” Jason breathed out, wrapping an arm around her waist and claiming her lips again, this time fully. God, he never knew how much he craved her and how much fear of rejection on her part he had.  “I need you.” he whispered pulling her flush to him “God, I shouldn’t  but I need you so bad.”

“Good thing it’s mutual.” She smiled, brushing a curl from his face and connecting their foreheads

“But….” He tried to say.

“if you start talking about that shit about darkness and everything else I won’t kiss you for a week.”

“Are you threatening the Red Hood, princess?”

“Guess, I am” she laughed, realizing that little fact “is it working?”

“Sure as hell it is.” Jason gasped before closing the gap between them.

***

Y/N was quickly accepted into the Wayne family, turning into a valuable member of the team. And damn, she was good at working with Oracle from the cave. But the most important part of her job (in her own words) was still giving the good vibes. Keeping the batboys (and batgirls) up and running, showing them how much good they were doing and how grateful people were for that.

Jason needed it more than anyone else, still doubting himself and dealing with past trauma, not that anyone blamed him for that. If nothing else, dying and resurrecting definitely have an effect on one’s mentality. And that was precisely why, Y/N would always stay up in the night, waiting for Jay to come back from the patrol to welcome him in the most caring and loving way she could.

“Jace!” she jumped off the couch as soon as she heard him walk thought the door, his helmet and jacket already discarded on the floor. She practically jumped into his arms, wrapping legs and arms around him, tugging her boyfriend tightly, feeling his muscles relax under her touches and caresses.

“Hi, baby….” He sighed deeply feeling her in his arms. The only person that made everything he did worth the effort.

“My hero.” She tugged him even tighter, hands tangling in his hair massaging gently.

“Hero? That’s funny princess. Are you sure you’re not mistaking me for Grayson? Do you wish that it was someone else in your arms?”

“What are you…..?” she pulled back from him slightly, but his arms kept her in place, familiar smirk forming on his face. “You are incorrigible Todd! Why are you constantly playing with me?”

“Cause you look cute with that surprised Pikachu face” he kissed the top of her nose and she pouted.

“Stop it! It’s my job to kiss you and hug you. You’re tired and hurt. Let me take care of you.” her hand travelled down from his neck and rested on his heart “Please, love. I just want to take all the pain from you. Let me, Jason.” she was practically begging him now, and the fact that he truly had someone who was willing to do that for him was making him melt. Since the words failed him, he just nodded, closing his eyes not to show any vulnerability. Almost three years of being together and it was still hard for him to show her his emotional side. “Open those eyes” she commanded, once he put her back on the floor and they just stood in place. “I love you, Jason.” Y/N said with fully convinced voice “whatever you think about yourself, you are a hero to me.” a little kiss on his forehead “A protector.” Kiss on his nose “a fighter” one on each of his cheeks “I can never see you differently” a peck on his lips, too short, leaving him wanting more and chasing her lips “but it’s me. You don’t need to act strong with me when you are tired. You don’t need to hide your emotions. You could never be too vulnerable for me. I accept and somewhat understand Red hood, but it’s Jason Todd I fell in love with. My Jason. The emotional one. All right, baby?’ she caressed his cheek, grabbing his hand and leading him backwards towards the bed “will you rest with me?”

“Yes.” He whispered “Please……”

“All right.” She helped him lay down and once he rested head on her chest, feeling her fingers play with his hair, the other hand caressing her back, Jason slowly let the tension and the burden of opinion, judgments and expectations go.

She was making him feel better about himself.

She was making him feel better about world.

And maybe it was wrong and selfish and careless, but he loved her.

And he was going to tell her that.

Soon.  

#jason todd fanfiction #jason todd angst #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x oc #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood fanfiction #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x fem!reader #red hood #red hood x y/n #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff #fluff #dc fluff #tim drake #jason todd fic #red hood x you #red hood x oc

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Ghosts

Summary: A phone call from a stranger with news about a man from a life you had left behind a long time ago, brings back many memories, making you travel from France to New York City for one last time. Only for a promise made twenty years ago to wait for you once you are back home.

Pairing: John Wick x fem. reader

Rating: G

Wordcount: 1.5k

Warnings: !! spoilers for John Wick Chapter 4 !! do not read this if you don't want to be spoiled for the movie (this is an attempt on a fix it fic lmao), guns, death, angst, fluff

A/N: yeah I know it's been 84 years but here I am with my silly little John Wick fic, trying to make sense of the movie I watched two days ago. Summary is a lil vague cause spoilers

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics to get notified for new fic updates

You jumped awake, uncertain what it was that woke you up. 

Groaning your eyes found the time on the alarm clock on your bedside table, showing you that it was just after 3 am. Was it a nightmare? You had those, even though not as frequently as before. Out of instinct you reached under your bed, finding the familiar shape of your gun still in place. 

You hadn’t actually used a gun in almost twenty years, yet knowing it was there gave you a sense of safety, your mind wandering to the last time you had used it. 

The night you died. 

The night you left your old life. 

The night he killed you. 

Your life had been planned out for you before you even took your first breath. You were the future head of the Ruska Roma, your fathers pride and joy. 

You never had a choice in that matter. 

You learned hundreds of ways to kill a person, had material art lessons daily followed by lessons learning every single detail about the high table and your family's enemies, making you a killing machine before you even turned thirteen years old. 

It was on your thirteenth birthday that you met John Wick for the first time. 

He was older than you, at least ten years, but there was something in his eyes that seemed familiar to you. It was the same look you saw every day when you looked into the mirror. Sadness, Anger, Emptiness. 

He spent a year working exclusively for your father, doing his dirty work, before he disappeared like a ghost into the night. 

Almost twelve years would pass before you and John would meet again.

He became a friend, if you had friends in the world you had been born into. Maybe even your only friend. And so much more. He trained you, his reputation proceeding him, his name only whispered in the underground as if he would appear out of thin air if you dared to speak out his name. 

Spending time with John became an escape to the ever lingering pressure all around you, your personal challenge becoming to make him crack the facade he put on, for just a tiny glimpse at the man behind the myth.

It was when your father announced your engagement to another future member of the high table, catching you totally off guard, that gave you finally the strength to plan your way out. 

You knew survival was almost impossible. 

So you had to die. 

And who better to help you make your death believable than the boogeyman himself?

Shaking your head out of the memory of John, blinking away the many pictures of his soft smile as you woke up in his arms day after day before you disappeared you sighed. 

It had been almost twenty years since you last saw him, since he promised once he got out for good he would find you, but sometimes you still found yourself thinking about him. He had been your best friend and so much more. The first man you kissed, the first man you slept with. 

Your phone buzzed and you reached for it, your eyes frowning at the foreign number. 

“Hello?” you said. 

A sigh was heard on the other end of the line. 

“This is… My name is Winston and I am calling for Jonathan Wick….”

Getting to New York undetected must have been the single most anxious task of your life. You hadn’t been back here since you kissed your former life goodbye. 

But it was John. 

And Winston, who you learned was the Manager of the New York Continental Hotel, assured you that your safety would be assured if you chose to travel to John’s funeral. 

“John and I may have had our issues, but he made me promise to keep an eye on you if anything would ever happen to him,” he had told you. 

It was from him that you learned that even though you hadn’t talked or seen John since that night, John had very much kept up with you and your life. To make sure you were always safe. 

You learned that he got out too before because he fell in love, got married to the woman he loved before she died from a long illness, the aftermath of that sucking him back into the underworld where he fought for his freedom before he eventually found it and died on the steps of the Sacré-Cœur in Paris. 

Only two hours away from the small town you had called home for the last couple of years. 

You weren’t prepared how much the news of his death would hurt. 

While learning that he got out for another woman hurt when you first learned about it, in the end you were happy he got to experience love and life apart from the underworld.

Sure, he could have died without you knowing it since you lost contact. But knowing that he still cared about you even after all these years, made you so fucking sad and happy at the same time. 

Winston and someone who named himself the Bowery King (you did not ask any questions) had left you alone at the graveyard, a trusted security detail from Winston staying behind as you stood under the umbrella facing John Wick’s grave. 

Loving husband it read beneath his name.

It brought a small smile to your lips. 

When you were younger you always pictured him when you dreamed of getting married. But that was all it was. 

A dream. 

John Wick was the first man you loved, maybe the only man you really loved. 

“I hope you found your peace, Jonathan,” you whispered, your fingers brushing over his gravestone, before you set down a single rose on his stone and on Helen’s. His wife’s. 

You blinked away the tears.

“Thank you for keeping me safe,” you said with a sad smile on your lips before you slowly turned around and walked back to your car. 

It was early morning when the car drove through the tiny town of La Mare just on the coast of France. 

Was it totally insane taking a risky twenty four hour trip to New York City for a funeral of a man you hadn’t talked to in twenty years?

Yes. 

But you would do it again. 

You thanked the driver with a tired smile, watching him drive away as you searched for your keys in your purse. 

You had stayed to have a drink with Winston and meet with a lawyer from whom you learned that John had put you in his last will, making you the sole heir to everything he owned in case his wife died before him. 

After you had been driven back to the private airstrip where you took the private jet you had arrived with back to europe.

You just wanted to lay down and cry, the rollercoaster of feelings you had gone through since your phone call with Winston just two days ago still not really setting in. 

You unlocked the door, letting your bag fall down in the hallway as you shut the door behind you, leaning with your back against the door, taking a deep breath. 

This was so fucking silly. 

Why were you so heartbroken about a man you had said goodbye to before?

You got out of your shoes, walking down the long hallway towards the kitchen half asleep. You blamed it on that you did not hear the noise until you were walking through the door, stopping in your tracks at the man currently fighting with your coffee maker. 

Instinct set in and you silently walked to the table closest to you, intent on grabbing your gun when you found it gone. 

“If you’re looking for your gun, it’s right here,” your head turned towards the man who had now turned around, his head nodding towards your big kitchen Island where your gun was laying. 

Your eyes flew from him to the gun, before you looked at him again, your lips parting in a gasp. 

“John?” you whispered in disbelief. 

Slowly he walked towards you, limped really, before he came to a stop in front of you. 

He was older, his dark hair longer than the last time you had seen him. He was wearing sweatpants and a white shirt and you could see the bandages beneath it from where he must be hurt.

“I told you I would find you once I got out for good,” he said carefully, but you just kept looking at him like he was a ghost. A ghost from your past.

“Hope you don’t mind, I let myself in.”

“I... I was at your funeral,” you whispered. 

“I was at yours too,” he said. 

“You got married,” you said. He nodded. 

“But now you’re here.”

“But now I’m here.”

You took a step towards him, carefully reaching out, your hand coming to rest on his chest, just above his heart. 

“It’s been a long time,” you whispered. 

“Yeah.”

“A lot has happened since we last saw each other,” you said. He nodded.

“You wanna have breakfast and tell me all about it?” you asked. 

“Yeah. I’d love that.”

#my fic #John Wick #John Wick x fem. reader #Keanu Reeves #John Wick Chapter 4 spoilers #spoilers #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

[underforeversgrace]

memory of what may have been and never will be

DannyMay2023 Day 25: Blame

title: memory of what may have been and never will be

words: 3962

Summary: Valerie Gray from ten years in the future falls through a natural portal, landing in the past. Unable to get home, she decides to do the best thing she can - kill Danny Phantom. (TUE Timeline Valerie)

Idea from this post by @danphanwritingprompts: Valerie travels to the past to prevent the future of The Ultimate Enemy by killing Danny Phantom.

Warnings: None!

Beta: probably-dead

Also on AO3

~~~~~~

Valerie groaned, holding one hand to her nauseous stomach and covering her eyes with the other, irritated by the brightness, as she lay on what felt like cracked concrete.

What the hell just happened? She wondered, pushing herself up, mentally taking catalog of any aches or injuries on her body, relieved when she found none, other than the headache and nausea. She settled into a sitting position, keeping her eyes firmly closed until the spinning in her mind settled and took several deep breaths to collect herself.

When she decided she was no longer at risk from hurling up her lunch, she opened her eyes.

Only to be greeted by a confusing sight, one she hadn’t seen in nearly a decade. She was in Amity Park, but… it looked like it did when she was in high school, before Phantom had shown his true colors. And his true strength. She called her hoverboard to her, raising up into the sky, trying to remember the past several minutes.

She’d been flying when her board had just… disappeared, short circuited or something, something it’d never done before. And she’d fallen.

She vaguely remembered a swirling green circle beneath her and the sensation of jumping into a pool in winter. A natural portal? Had she fallen through one? She’d read through the Fentons research so many times in the years since their deaths, she knew it had been a theory they never got around to testing - that the Ghost Zone didn’t follow the same linear timeline as Earth did.

Had she fallen through a natural time portal? When was she? 

She rose higher, scanning the area for notable features. She saw the Nasty Burger and breathed a sigh of relief. Phantom hadn’t gone on his killing spree until over a year after the restaurant explosion. Her eyes finally settled on a nearby billboard - Amity Park, Most Haunted Town in America! it proclaimed. They hadn’t had that title until after the ghosts had started coming, there to fight Phantom - though he was still known as Invisobill back in those days.

Okay, so she was somewhere in her freshman year of high school. That’s a fun thought. She wondered if it was before or after the Axiom incident - if her current self was the airhead or the hero.

Confident she now had a rough approximation of where - and when - she was, she frowned. Now what? Whatever portal she’d fallen through had disappeared. She had no idea how to go home.

She paused for a moment, returning her gaze to the billboard. Did she even want to go home? To the apocalypse happening beyond the shield?

Or she could stop it. She could stop the future ahead of her, of the world.

Phantom couldn’t destroy the world if she destroyed him. Sure, she’d tried to do that when she was still a new hunter, but she had nearly a decade of experience under her belt now. She was older, stronger, wiser.

The Phantom of this era had held back his attacks against her, she had learned that a long time ago, when he’d stopped doing so, when he’d started going for blood, for her life. All she had to do was find him and she could wipe away that future, wipe away all that pain and suffering. She’d probably wipe herself away, too - this version of herself, at least - but she didn’t mind that.

The new future she’d create would be better for her, even if this her faded into never-existence. She’d never stop fighting, whatever the future held, she knew that. But she could stop fighting the end of the world, come to them in the form of a ghost in a too-tight HAZMAT.

Phantom of this era had been good, though. She’d realized it the same time she realized how much he held back against her. This version of Phantom could be manipulated.

She’d always wondered what happened, to be honest. One day Phantom was playing up being a superhero and then he murdered the newly orphaned Danny Fenton in his new home in Wisconsin. He’d come here after and slaughtered some of her other classmates.

Valerie would never forget how Dash screamed up until Phantom had finally ripped his throat out. He’d grabbed Paulina and dropped her from even higher than the skyscrapers. Star he’d grabbed and phased into the ground, killing her the second he made her tangible again.

And Valerie had been stuck there, beaten within an inch of her life. Even now, she didn’t know why he’d spared her. Why he’d targeted the A-List that day.

He hadn’t targeted anyone specific after that, despite basically running kamikaze strikes nearly every day after, demolishing buildings and causing mass casualty and panic. She suspected the panic was his goal, up until they’d gotten the shield up and his reign of terror over Amity had ended. The rest of the world hadn’t been so lucky.

He could have killed all of them in a day, she’d realized. That first day was forever imprinted into her brain, the violence and fear. The knowledge that Phantom knew her secret identity.

But… where to start? She had never known how Phantom managed to disappear and reappear from her ghost tracking tech, that still was an unknown. Should she just fly around until something happened? Should she try to find herself from this time, if she was the Huntress yet?

A blip alerted on her tracking equipment, pulling her from her thoughts. She hesitated. She didn’t know which ghost this was - her equipment had never been that detailed, she just knew it was a ghost. Could she make the future worse if she did something wrong?

An old memory pushed itself to the forefront. Phantom, on the other side of the shield, head tilted to the side and a grin on his face that made her feel like prey.

No. She couldn’t make it worse. She could only make it better. It was Phantom’s fault her life was like this - from the ghost hunting to living within a domed city like a dystopian novel.

Decision made, she shot off, following the tracker on her arm.

She pushed the hoverboard faster when Phantom came into view, not far in front of her, and she saw where Phantom was most likely going. An apartment complex on the border between Elmerton and Amity Park - where the people with just barely enough to stay out of Elmerton lived - was engulfed in flames.

“Phantom! Huntress!” Someone called from the ground. Wow, it was weird being called Huntress again, everyone had called her Valerie since Phantom outed her all those years ago. Still, she angled her board down to the call, Phantom at her side.

It was… odd, seeing him like this. Young, a teenager probably no older than herself in this time. No malice or sadism danced in his eyes as he landed, feet on solid ground in front of the person who’d been calling them - a fireman, the fire trucks roaring behind him as it attempted to put out the inferno the complex was rapidly turning into. There was something distinctly different in that - Phantom actually touching down to the ground, not floating in place.

Phantom glanced at her cautiously, keeping his distance as they both stood in front of the man.

“Thank God you two are here,” he said. “We can’t reach the top four levels, only the bottom two, can you two sweep those floors and get out anyone who needs it?”

“On it.” Phantom said, eyeing the building then turning to Valerie, apparently not realizing the difference in her stature in the form fitting suit. “It looks like the fire is worse the lower down it is. Can you get the top two floors and I’ll get the two beneath?”

Valerie nodded, summoning her board back to her feet and speeding off, not wanting to talk in front of him but also unwilling to not answer the call for help. Phantom was right behind her, veering off and plunging through the walls on the third floor as she headed for the top and entered through a shattered window.

Immediately, she felt like the very air was burning her, smoke trying to choke her through her suit’s filter. She triggered the infrared on her suit, moving from room to room as quickly as she could.

Was this building always this big? She mumbled internally. She vaguely remembered an apartment complex near her burning down and needing to be rebuilt, so maybe this was that building?

Valerie had swept through half the top floor before she saw two figures in her infrared - human shaped and colder than the fire slowly surrounding them.

“Hello?” She yelled, running towards the figures - it looked like a parent and a child, based on their sizes.

“Help!” A woman’s voice shrieked.

“I’m coming!” She called back, blasting through the door in her way.

“Huntress!” The woman called in relief as soon as she saw Valerie, picking a child up - presumably her son - as Valerie got closer. As soon as Valerie was close enough, the woman hefted her son up higher, relief in her eyes.

“I can carry both of you, get on!” Valerie shouted, throwing her arm up protectively over her face when a sudden lick of fire lashed out towards her.

The woman didn’t protest, jumping on and sitting down, straddling the board in front of Valerie’s legs and clutching her son to her for dear life.

Valerie triggered a weapon at her shoulder and blasted clear through the wall, speeding away from the fire even as it tried to reach for her with the new oxygen source she’d fed it.

She slowed when it was safe to do so, to allow the other two to better keep their balance. She dropped them off by the fireman from earlier, several ambulances having arrived in the short time she was in the building. At least a dozen people were now out here, covered in soot, being checked over by the various EMTs. Had Phantom really already gotten that many people out?

Valerie was helping the woman and her son off the board when Phantom came flying out, two more people clutched to him. He dropped them off in front of the EMTs. “I’ve got the fifth floor, Red, the fire’s spreading! Stay out!” He shouted, almost immediately gone from sight again.

He… hadn’t looked good. Burns had dotted his jumpsuit, even oozing green in some places where she’d been able to see skin. Regardless, she listened to him, helping the firefighters when they handed her a hose and asked her to see if she could get some of the higher levels.

Several tense minutes passed as they fought to force the inferno into submission, Phantom appearing twice more with people in his arms.

“I’ve got everyone.” She heard him say to the firefighter. She dropped down beside him, handing the hose back to the firefighters as she did so, the fire contained even as the building continued to smoke.

Phantom really didn’t look good. His hair looked black with soot, every white part of his jumpsuit likewise changed.

Something looked… familiar. She couldn’t place it but it was like a forgotten memory, tugging at her heart. Also, had Phantom always breathed? She wondered, watching the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he coughed, doubling over where he stood. She just stood there, silently, trying to figure out her next move. This Phantom still had fans, people who liked him, who would hate the Red Huntress for killing him.

No, she couldn’t do it here, surrounded by all these people they’d just saved. Looking at his soot-blackened hair and watching him wheeze for air, though… suddenly her resolve started to slip. She hesitated. How could this be the same Phantom who’d set a building on fire, a daycare, and laughed at the screams?

He looked at her when he finally stopped coughing, curiosity on his face.

“You good, Phantom? Do you need to see the EMTs? Er, I mean…” The fireman started.

Phantom laughed, which quickly turned into another wheeze and a quick cough. “Forget I was a ghost again, Chief Hemlin?” He asked after.

The man, Hemlin apparently, smiled and shrugged. “Maybe? Anyway, thanks for your help. Again. Eventually I’m going to have to pay you or something!”

Phantom just rolled his eyes, Valerie watching the entire interaction in bafflement. She just… she couldn’t see the Phantom she knew in this Phantom.

“Thanks to you as well, Huntress.” Hemlin added, reaching out to her and shaking her hand. She just shrugged.

“Well, as fun as this has been, I probably should get out of here before Red decides to shoot me in the ass.” Phantom said, turning to her and smirking. “If she can catch up with me!” With that he was up and off, flying across the sky.

Valerie was after him in an instant, easily keeping pace with him. He turned slightly to glance at her, as though confirming she was behind him. He turned sharply and Valerie adjusted, unable to deny the thrill of chasing a ghost at high speeds again, especially as she began to catch up to him quite easily - had she gotten faster in the past eight years? - even when he dive bombed the ground.

Sh just barely managed to keep from slamming into the ground as he phased into it, but she couldn’t keep her balance, the board catching on the pavement and sending her rolling.

Ow. She grumbled mentally. Before she had the chance to do much, Phantom was in front of her, ectoblast growing in his hand and pointed towards her. Ah. This was a familiar look.

“You’re not Red. Who are you? Have you hurt her?” He asked, scowling.

That… was not a familiar statement. He sounded concerned for the Valerie he knew.

“I will ask you one more time. Did you hurt her?” He said, the ectoplasm crackling in his hand.

“How did you know?” She finally asked, still not removing her mask.

He tilted his head to the side. Again, so familiar a gesture, but so unfamiliar. He lacked the cruelty she knew, the uncontrolled sadism. He just looked confused. “You didn’t try to immediately kill me and/or didn’t blame me for setting the building on fire?” He answered.

Had she really been that gung ho to kill this kid back then? She held her hands up in surrender. “I can explain.”

“Is Valerie safe?”

“Yes.” She answered. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, he visibly relaxed, allowing the blast in his hand to dissipate. She was thoroughly and entirely confused. He knew her secret identity, knew her well enough to know she wasn’t herself, and had only been concerned with her safety. It just didn’t add up.

“Then who are you?”

Well, here goes nothing. Keeping one hand still, she slowly reached for her mask with the other, pulling it off. “Valerie Gray.”

“Huh?” He responded elegantly, the confusion nearly comical on his young face. “You… do look like her. Like you could be her older sister.”

Again holding both hands up, she slowly stood. Phantom eyed her cautiously, warily, but didn’t move to stop her. He looked almost afraid of her. Why? He could decimate her in seconds.

Oh. He was afraid of fighting her because he could kill her easily and he didn’t want to do that.

“I’m from 2014.” She answered honestly. “I feel through a natural portal. It’s what? ‘04, ‘05 now?”

“February 2005.” Phantom informed. “You’re… from the future? Do we finally call a truce or something? You’re not trying to kill me.”

“It’s a long story.” Valerie answered, starting to lower her hands. Phantom nodded, indicating she was fine. He trusted her in an instant. Why?

What the hell had happened to him?

“You’re still fighting ghosts.” Phantom said, gesturing to her red suit.

“It’s just what I do, you know what I mean. You hunt them too.”

Sadness creeped into Phantom’s green eyes. “Honestly? I… ten years and the fighting hasn’t stopped? I’d hoped they would eventually let me rest in peace. This isn’t what I want. I don’t want to fight forever.” He looked so old, so weary, in that moment, surprising Valerie. This past version of Phantom was so, so different and continued to shock her. She’d been planning to manipulate him, but… maybe the truth would suffice. This Phantom was good and pure - she routinely shot him and he refused to fight back in anything more than self defense. He wouldn’t want people to die.

“You’re the one causing the fights.” Valerie admitted.

“What? No. I hate fighting.”

“Phantom, you’ve killed people.”

“No. No, I wouldn’t!” Phantom insisted, eyes going wide in shock and fear and he backed away from her.

“I have proof.” She said, pressing at the communicator on her wrist. “Look.” She tapped at the screen on it a few times, bringing up archived footage her suit had recorded.

Phantom timidly walked over to her, glancing at her - wow he was short - then turning his attention to the screen. It had been recorded on the wrist cuff she wore, so the angle was weird.

“Okay, class,” Mr. Lancer’s replacement, Ms. Graham, said. “Today we’re starting on Of Mice and Men, so-“

She would never finish her sentence, the ceiling above her collapsing and burying her in rubble, a sickening crunch barely hidden by the sound of the concrete falling, a pool of red beginning to run from under the pile, the students screaming.

Phantom made a squeak of disgust beside her and she looked at him, his eyes wide and horrified at the scene.

“Am I late for class?” Phantom asked cruelly, dropping in from the hole he’d caused, grinning with too sharp teeth.

“Phantom!” A much younger Valerie shouted, shooting to her feet.

Valerie’s stomach turned and she looked away, unwilling to watch the nightmare she’d already lived through. She heard the screams from the recording, the sadism in Phantom’s laugh as he trapped them, as he easily took Valerie down and outed her as the Huntress before torturing Dash. She couldn’t help the shudder that went down her spine as a certain scene played.

“You always were my favorite,” Phantom cooed, pinning her by her neck with one hand while the other gently stroked her hair. “I’ll save you for last.”

“Stop. Please.” The current Phantom said, tears streaking down his face. Valerie conceded, she’d heard enough again. “What happened to me? To make me do that?”

“Honestly? I’ve been wondering that for years. No one knows. You murdered Danny Fenton in Wisconsin and then did this a month later, in April 2005.”

“I do that… in two months?” He practically whispered.

Valerie nodded. What the hell happened - uh, happens - to him in the next month?

“Wait. You said I killed Danny Fenton. I can’t have killed Danny Fenton.” Phantom said.

“He was the first person you killed, actually. Pretty violently, too. The funeral was closed casket, but I saw the damage before we buried him next to his sister.”

“Wait. Wait. No. Sister? Jazz is dead too? I would never hurt her!”

“No, you didn’t. The other three Fentons died in an accident - an explosion at the Nasty Burger.”

Phantom’s normally tan face seemed to pale, clear even under the soot still on him. “Tell me about that. Please.”

Valerie looked at him curiously. Why would he care about what happened to the Fentons? Still, she answered.

“The sauce at the Nasty Burger can explode if it gets too hot. Next month something happens and the sauce explodes, with six casualties. Only Danny survives and I don’t know how.”

“Six? Who else?” Panic was beginning to show in his tone, a ferocity and fear in his eyes she’d never seen before.

“The three Fentons, Sam Manson, Tucker Foley, and William Lancer.”

“Oh.” He said, tears sliding down his face as he crumpled, falling to his knees.

When he offered no further explanation, Valerie just continued with the story. “There wasn’t enough of any of them to really bury but they all got headstones. Danny went to live with a godfather in Wisconsin. You killed him within a month of the accident.” Valerie pushed down the anger that tried to raise in her. Despite the break up, she had really had feelings for the youngest Fenton and she’d blamed herself for his death for years, her failure to stop Phantom leading to Danny’s death.

Phantom just curled up into a ball and was slightly rocking back and forth, odd sniffles coming from him. It took Valerie a moment to realize that sound was him crying. She’d never heard the ghost cry before.

“Shoot me.” He finally said, his head tucked between his knees.

“What?” She asked. As hard as he’d fought her, this was all it took to make him give up.

“I’m sure the accident that kills them is my fault, too.” He said, self deprecation dripping from his tone like venom. “Shoot me.”

Valerie pulled a blaster from her belt, moving to stand behind him and pressing the barrel against the back of the ghost’s head, against white hair dyed black in spots from soot.

He didn’t fight back.

Something in the back of her mind kept whispering that this was wrong, that Phantom had always fought too hard to give up this easily.

“Why?” She asked, suddenly unsure if she could kill someone who was still innocent. She’d long since realized the dog that had destroyed her life wasn’t his and this version of Phantom was innocent. “Why do you become that?”

He was silent for several moments and she began to doubt he was going to answer before taking a deep breath. “I’m Danny Fenton’s ghost. He had a bad accident at the beginning of freshman year.”

“I remember. I also remember him surviving it.”

“He managed to come back, but he died long enough to create me. Danny Fenton is my humanity. Losing all of them… his humanity would’ve shattered. And mine along with it.”

“Does he know?”

“Yeah. How do you think I get all the Fenton tech?”

Again, hesitation stopped Valerie as she stared at the white hair, a soot-stained black beneath her gun. Suddenly she could see the resemblance and she recoiled, the weapon falling from her hand. “Danny?”

“His ghost.” Phantom corrected but something told Valerie he was lying, still keeping something secret. Regardless, she believed him, whatever other secrets he held. His mannerisms, his voice, the way he looked. Danny Phantom was Danny Fenton’s ghost.

…that sounds obvious, in hindsight.

“The Nasty Burger explosion causes this.” Valerie mumbled. “What if… we just save them?”

“Can we?” Phantom asked, his voice so small and young and so very clearly Danny beneath the echo that her heart ached. “Can we save them?”

“We can sure as hell try.”

He looked up at her, unshed tears in his eyes. “Okay.”

~~~~~~

A month later, after laying low and spending a lot of time in Phantom’s lair in the Ghost Zone, after preventing the Nasty Burger from exploding, she felt her body beginning to waver.

“Valerie!” Phantom called, panicked, grabbing at her hand, only for it to dissolve into nothingness. “What’s happening?”

“We did it. That future doesn’t exist anymore. And neither do I.” She smiled, a sense of peace settling within her. She’d stopped the end of the world, she’d saved people, and she’d saved Phantom’s humanity. “Goodbye.”

And then she felt her body collapse in on itself and she was no more than dust, a memory of what may have been and never will be.

#danny phantom #grace writes #dannymay2023 #Day 25 #Blame #danny fenton #Valerie Gray

[elisysd]

23. Cause space is just a word made up by someone who's afraid to get too close

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Please note that some parts of this chapter below the cut might not be suitable for an underage audience. Thank you.

Chapter soundtrack: Close - Nick Jonas, Tove Lo

After the proposal, they all gathered in a pizzeria that Charles had fully booked and privatized for the occasion. Everyone was invited, from Charles' loved ones to friends and drivers. Needless to say that the restaurant was crowded. The music was loud but not as loud as the laughter. Champagne was circulating for all the guests but for the drivers that had to be completely focused for the free practices. But still,it didn’t prevent them from having fun. Romy had forced Kyle into dancing with her in the middle of the room. He was spinning her around until she had no balance anymore and he pulled her against his chest, slowly swinging to the rhythm of the music. Julia was laughing with Louis to something their uncle Arthur had just said. Lyanna and Charles were both in an animated conversation with Elijah and Martin. Ludwig was moving his arms in stupid circles as he was talking to Percy, Leo and Lucas , probably explaining something related to racing as the other boys were all involved in different motorsport categories. As for Ethan, he was alone, in corner observing all the people he got to know for years, enjoying themselves while he was sipping on his orange juice, feeling like an underage kid.

He never thought proposals would made him so emotional, but truth was it did. Charles was like a father-figure for him, in a different way his dad was. Always there to support him and cheer him up after a bad race. Always a nice word for him. And Ethan had an immense respect for the Ferrari Team Principal. His eyes fell on his mom and dad, quietly enjoying some peace and quiet with Lando and Lily. His dad had his arms around his mom’s shoulders and she was comfortably resting her head against his chest. An intrusive thought popped in his mind as he wondered if Julia and himself would look as cute as them. Thinking of her, he found her in the crowd, she was not talking to Louis anymore who was still with his uncle but in the meanwhile had been joined by Percy. She was talking to Martin, a drink in her hand that definitely didn’t look like the kid’s drink Ethan was on. It was so loud that he had to lean in so she could hear him and he couldn’t help the pang of jealousy on his heart.

He didn’t notice straight away the heels clicking next to him and the tanned hand in his field of vision.

“Verstappen.” Daphne said in an annoyed voice after ordering another drink.

“Daphne. Long time no see.”

“I would have rather kept it this way, believe me.”

She played with her earring while contemplating her drink before she looked up and followed Ethan’s gaze.

“She is my friend. Julia. She once looked out for me, it’s my time now.”

Ethan sighed. He wasn’t expecting Daphne to show up. To be perfectly honest, he had kind of forgotten about her. Sure, he had very vague memories about her and the holidays in Greece but that was about it. He never thought she would still hold a grudge after what he had done a few years ago. He was young and stupid, she couldn’t hold it against him.

“I don’t want her to go through what you’ve put me through.”

“Come on Daph’, we were kids. Water under the bridge, no?” he sighed.

“I don’t want her to feel used. And I know boys like you. All you do is lie, and cheat and use girls for your image and reputation. And it’s not fair.”

“Don’t you think that maybe, just maybe, I care about Julia? That I’m not the boy I was almost ten years ago?”

“Guys like you don’t change. And sooner or later she will see it, I’ll make sure of it. ” she said, obstinately.

She was starting to get on his nerves. Firstly Martin and his proximity to Julia, now Daphne and her judgemental comments. He put his drink back on the counter with more strength than necessary and looked at her deeply in the eyes.

“Listen to me, and listen to me carefully, Daphne. I don’t care about what you think of me or of my relationship with Julia. You can hate me all you want, I don’t give a fuck. But one thing I won’t tolerate is you poisoning Julia’s mind in hopes to tarnish my image. You don’t want me as your enemy, Daph. So let us be. I make Julia happy, that’s all you should care about.”

“Do you? Because, it’s not you she is laughing with or seems close to.”

With one last glare, she left him alone, going back to the party. Still, her words stuck in the back of his mind, carrying more truth than he wanted to admit. Had he really change? After all he was using Julia for his image, having this committed image was reassuring to the sponsors that were now more willing to invest in the team knowing their names wouldn’t be associated to scandals. He just didn’t think feelings would get thrown into the mix and that his heart would start to beat faster when she was around. But he couldn’t forget how he tricked her into starting this with him, how he almost blackmailed her. It didn’t make him a better man, no matter how hard he was trying to convince himself he was one.

His gaze lingered on her and Martin. They looked close, that was true. She looked happy, carefree, her hand on his shoulder as he was showing her something. She looked beautiful, ethereal. Her red dress hugging her in all the right places, her red lips so tempting, her hair falling in waves on her back. And Martin that always had this soft look on his face when she was around, the glimpse of playfulness in his eyes, the way his body always leaned to her when she was near. They would make a pretty couple, he could make her happy. And that was killing him inside.

Julia was indeed truly happy. Everything had worked out the way she hoped it would, her dad and mom looked even more in love than before and she never thought it would ever be possible, everyone was having fun and she could finally relax and enjoy herself. She had drunk a bit too much wine to be slightly lightheaded. She was going from guests to guests, exchanging a few words and thanks for coming, before sitting down in a calmer area. She removed her heels and closed her eyes for a brief moment before feeling movement next to her and noticed Martin.

“That’s an amazing party.” he said, smiling at her.

“You can’t have an amazing party without amazing people.” she shrugged.

“You all seem so close, like a big family. I wish I could have that, one day.”

“You are family. You are part of Ferrari and my dad considers everyone working there as an extension of his family, so… you’ll always have your place around the table.”

He looked at her and she swore she could see his emotions in his eyes, as if he wasn’t expecting her to say something like that.

“It means a lot, Julia.”

“It’s not because I don’t reciprocate your feelings that we can’t be friends and… I’m not sure I’m supposed to say anything but we are going to see each other a lot in the next few weeks and I don’t want things to be weird between us. I like you, Martin.”

“Can I have a hug or is it off limits?”

She didn’t let him answer as she put her head on his shoulders as he got closer. They spent a good amount of time talking and laughing and Julia had to admit, she missed this close proximity. She missed his friendship and she hoped that no matter what, Martin would be able to set his feelings for her aside, for the sake of her mind.

She forgot how easy it was to talk to him, how good it felt, how natural and she was even more happy when Louis and Percy came to them, Percy saying how Martin was his favourite driver and how he hoped that next year he would have a real chance to fight for the championship. As for Louis, he wasn’t talking much but observed Martin before taking place, next to his sister and whispering to her hear how Martin had the same look that her dad when he was looking at her which made Julia feel guilty.

The two teenagers talked a bit with Martin, asking him questions after questions which he was happy to answer, no matter how silly they might sound. Julia found it cute the way he was acting with them and how he answered seriously despite the obvious will of the kids to embarrass him .

“You are a natural with kids.” she said.

“I love them. Your brother is something. He is cute. He seems shy, though.”

“His social skills are not as on point as ours. That’s it.” she answered, a bit defensive as it was always the case when someone was mentioning her brother.

“I’m not saying it as a bad thing. My sister is a bit of a loner as well. Louis reminds me of her. I have pics of her, do you want to see?”

She nodded and he took his phone out of his pocket and proceeded to show her every single picture he had of him and his family, not forgetting to tell her the story behind each of them, until one made her pause. It was still Martin and Georgia, on a boat during what seemed to be a very hot day but they were not alone. A pretty brunette was leaning on him. They seemed close, intimate, even.

“Who is that girl?” it was none of her business, she knew that but still. She wanted to know.

Martin didn’t say anything and looked at the picture, his thumb slightly sliding on it.

“Cecile.” he answered, with a stern voice.

“Ex-girlfriend?” she assumed so if she was referring to the way he had replied to her.

“We can say that like that, yeah.”

She didn’t ask anything else. He didn’t seem to want to talk about it and she didn’t want to force him. She excused herself, saying that she needed to mingle with other guest and went to the bar to order another drink. Ethan was there, brooding, something that was quite usual these past few days.

“Having fun?” he asked and she could feel how he wanted to rile her up. He had seen her with Martin, she was sure of it, but knowing that it pissed him off flattered her.

“A lot. Not you?”

“I do. A lot.” he nodded his head towards his drink and Julia couldn’t help but laugh.

“Stand on the podium this weekend and you will have the right to drink something stronger.” she nudged him in the shoulder and as she was about to leave, he took her hand and pulled her against him.

“Don’t go back to him.” he whispered in her ear, making her shiver.

“I wasn’t about to.”

“Perfect.”

He released his grip on her and let her out of his sight.

She felt hot, so hot. She didn’t know if it was because, she felt so happy, because of the alcohol or because of Ethan or maybe it was all of that, but she needed some air or at least to be alone, just the time for her to get a grip. She avoided Romy that wanted to pull her in the middle of the room for a dance and her mom that wanted to thank her again, and headed for the bathroom. She splashed her face with cold water and took a deep breath to calm her down. When she felt better she left and was about to go back to the party when she felt two hands gripping her waist and pulled her against the wall. She was about to scream when she recognised two ice blue orbs and suddenly she forgot why she even had to go to the bathroom in the first place.

“Do you know how crazy you drive me? Totally insane?” Ethan whispered in her ear, pressing her even harder against the wall. He didn’t want her to go back there and to mingle with other people. He wanted to stay there with her, his body against hers, away from everyone and everything.

“The good kind of crazy, I hope.” she laughed in his ear. She was slightly drunk and seemed to have let go of all her inhibitions. It was risky, Ethan knew it. The last time she had been in this state, in his arms, she had confessed her deepest fears and secrets to him.

He felt her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. He slightly avoided her face, resting his face in the crook of her neck, his breathing shallow. He could feel her nails slightly scratching the back of his neck as she was playing with his necklace. Her hands were so cold. Why were they so cold? It was making him shiver.  He wanted nothing else but to take them and put them under his shirt, where his heart was beating fast, to warm them. He could feel her breath in his ear and her red lips brushing against it. It was too much, way too much. He should back off now. But he found it so hard to do so. Everything in him was screaming to stay, to taste her, just once. He put both of his elbows against the wall in a desperate attempt to stabilize himself without caring that he was crushing her body between his and the wall until she let out a small gasp as he felt her breasts against his chest. The sound sent a wave of warmth mixed with pent up desire down south without him being able to do anything about it. He should feel ashamed but he was not. He was past that. He didn’t care anymore.

She had consumed his thoughts tonight. Her and her red dress and red lips and long wavy brown hair and blue-green eyes. Her and her laughs and her voice and her smiles and everything in between. It was her. Her, her, her. And if she had been sober he would have taken her right here and there. In the middle of the corridor. And someone could have walked in on them but he wouldn’t have cared.

But here they were. He nuzzled his head in her shoulder not resisting kissing the little bit of skin that was on display. So tempting. So wrong.

“Ethan…” she said in a voice that was betraying everything she was feeling.

“Julia…”

“I want you. All of you.”

Think with your head, Ethan. Not anything else.

“I can’t, Joolsie.”

“You can’t or you don’t want me?” she insisted.

“I want you. So bad you have no idea.” he confessed.

He knew she wouldn’t remember the conversation anyway, there was nothing wrong to admit it. He felt her hands moving from his neck to his arms and his chest, until they wandered even lower to the hem of his jeans. He didn’t dare to move, waiting for her next move. How far was she willing to go? When would she back off? Would she? He wanted to know. She slowly and shakingly let her fingers go under his shirt, tracing the lines of his abs and he felt his breath getting caught in his throat. Her lips started to travel along his jaw. In a desperate move he threw his head back giving her access to his throat. He felt her going from left to right and right to left before settling right where she could feel his pulse beating fast. The softness of her lips made way to the sharpness of her teeth and the roughness of her tongue and this time, it was him who let out a moan that looked like a cry for help.

That was the reaction she silently prayed for, an invitation to keep going. Maybe it was the alcohol that was helping her but tonight, she felt like nothing could stop her. She could feel him against her thigh and she had to admit, it was flattering knowing that she had this effect on him. Her. Not anyone else. Just her. She was burning. Completely burning and she didn’t want the fire to stop. She wanted to keep it alive. If he was the kerosene then she was a dry forest. The more she was near him, the more she was burning. Her hands still wandering along the lines of his muscles, her mouth still busy driving him crazy, she set a leg between his as she started to rock her hips against him in a hopeless way to relieve the tension.

“Fuck, Julia.” he groaned as he put a hand around her waist, the other still against the wall near her head and started to join her movements as if his hips had a mind on their own. He pulled her even more against him, earning another moan from her lips as he could now feel her nipples, hard against his chest.

“Ethan…” she sighed.

He felt like a teenager, unable to control himself. He had to stop but oh feeling her against him, moving against him, in total sync, it was heaven. And it was stupid, they were in a corridor, fully clothed looking like two kids that were discovering what desire was. He felt like being thirteen all over again and trying to discover how his body was working and how to control it. He was not an animal for God’s sake. And here he was, humping like a dog against a girl completely drunk because he wasn’t able to control himself anymore. He felt so dirty.

“I’m sorry, Julia.”

It took everything in him but he finally let go of her and ran away to the closest bathroom, leaving her gasping and shaking, wondering what had just happened.

When she woke up the next morning, her head was pounding and shame was all she could feel. How would she be able to look into Ethan’s eyes after what had happened the night before in the corridor? She hoped he wouldn’t say anything. It has been a spur of the moment, all this tension they both were feeling had to eventually come out and now she only prayed that they both could move on. but if she was honest with herself, all of this only left her with the need of more.

Today was the day and she didn’t know what to feel. She didn’t know how to dress either, she was supposed to wear her team attire but maybe she could arrive to the paddock in a more neutral outfit? Maybe she could match with Ethan, that could be cute? She was about to call Romy for help when someone knocked on her door. When she opened, Ethan was there, looking as good as ever.

“Morning. I wanted to go over the last few details before heading to the paddock.”

She hated the professional tone he was using with her, as if nothing had happened, as if whatever was between them was purely business. Did he feel nothing, after yesterday? Could Daphne be right and she was just another girl on his list? Did all they have shared meant nothing? She wanted to scream those words at him, demand an answer. But who was she to do that?

“I… I was thinking we could have matching outfits? Or is that too much?” she asked hesitantly.

“Dress however you want that’s not important. Ashley wants us to hold hands and to look close to give people the feeling we love each other. Which shouldn’t be hard since photographers sold pictures of your mom and dad proposal and we are on them. People already know we are together, today will just give an official confirmation.”

He was cold. Really cold. Not the Ethan she knew and had learned to like. He was back to his old facade, one she thought he would never wear again when she was around. Not knowing how to react, she simple nodded.

“Perfect. I will be waiting for you in the lobby, then.”

And without adding anything else, he exited the room, leaving her once again wondering what she had done wrong.

Monza was always a special race. Italians supporters were crazy and the vibes there were immaculate. It was always a sea of bright red and yellow wherever they were going. But as Maserati and Lamborghini had their factories not so far away from there, it was not unusual to see navy blue colours popping here and there. The media attention had also been more present these past few years and Julia was not surprised to see journalists and photographers coming to them. Ethan got out of the car, flashed a bright smile to them and opened her door to find her completely frozen, like a doe in the headlights.

“Joolsie? Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

“I didn’t think there would be so many people.”

“I thought you were aware of that when you said that we should hard-launch in Monza. It’s too late to go back now. Come on, I have places to go.”

He took her hands and pulled her out of the car as she crashed against his chest. She heard him say to the photographers to make way for them before she felt his hand gripping firmly hers as they walked to the paddock entry. Inside, it was a little less crowded. Not many people were interested by the free practices but still, they had to pretend. They didn’t even have made an official post that social media were crazy about them. They were the new power couple, they were cute, they looked so in love, they looked so happy, they were perfect and she wondered how people could draw these conclusions based on some blurry pictures, without knowing them. Because if they did, they would know it was fake, that she didn’t look happy even if she had to admit that they looked cute. It was definitely not how she wanted this hard-launch to go. She thought it would be easy, that since they got along it would all run smoothly. But the shift in his behaviour was so sudden that she had not had the time to adjust. Fortunately, it was only Friday and she still had the whole weekend to learn how to fake being happy and in love.

But as if her day couldn’t get any worse, as soon as she arrived in the Skoda garage to change her clothes and start her work, she was intercepted by Wilhelm who asked her if she had a minute. They needed to talk. She went in his office and as he closed the door, she understood that it was no good.

“Ethan Verstappen?”

She opened and closed her mouth, not knowing how to answer.

“You understand that it’s putting the team in a delicate situation, right Julia?”

“Excuse me, but… I failed to see how my private life is and my work life are related.”

“One could say that it could leave to a breach of data privacy, or possible conflict of interests. That’s bad, Julia, really bad.”

She gulped and somehow she knew what was about to happen. She closed her eyes, waiting for the final blow.

“We can’t keep you, Julia. You are a liability. It’s too risky to have you here. You don’t give me any other choice but to fire you.”

Author's note: Well, well, well... the tension is slowly breaking and the temperature is rising heheh... What do you think will happen next? Let me know your theories, I love to read them.

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. It helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

Taglist:

@herondalism @aundercover @musingsbyshreya @karmabyfernando @reengard @mycenterfold @smoooothoperator

#writing #fiction #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x oc #max vertsappen #max verstappen fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic

[verdantcrimson]

Shutter Chance - 2

Writer: Yuumasu

Season: Winter

TL: verdantcrimson

(Unproofread)

1 | 2

Souma: Hasumi-dono! There you are, we have found you at last!

Keito: Kanzaki, what is it?

Souma: I heard that you are facing a predicament, is this true?

Souma: If that is truly the case, then I offer my sincere apologies. Unaware of your suffering, I made small talk with you this morning.

Souma: But fear not. For I have now arrived to assist you…♪

Keito: … Kanzaki, what are you going on about?

Kuro: Haha. That's a terrible way of explainin' things, Kanzaki.

Keito: Kiryu, you're here too… Why don't you explain what's going on instead of this excited fellow?

Kuro: Sure. We were just chattin' with Mashiro…

[Ten Minutes Ago]

Tomoya: —So I was talking to Hasumi-senpai before the dress rehearsal earlier.

Tomoya: Even Hasumi-senpai has his own troubles, right? I was under the impression that he was kind of perfect, so it was a little surprising.

Souma: Hasumi-dono in trouble…?

Tomoya: Yeah. But I admire him for the way he tries to solve his problems independently. I wish I could be that sort of leader…

Kuro: You've got your own strengths, Mashiro. Ya don't have to be just like danna, yeah?

Kuro: Oh, Kanzaki, who're ya makin' a phone call to?

Souma: I am calling Hasumi-dono, but I hear a peculiar voice.

Kuro: What are ya talkin' about? Gimme your phone for a sec.

Kuro: …. Ah. That's the automated voice-mail. It plays when the person can't pick up their phone.

Kuro: It's kind of weird that his phone's switched off at this time of the day though? Let's check his schedule on 'Whole-Hands'.

Kuro: So, yeah. As soon as he heard that you were at COCHI, he started runnin'.

Keito: I didn't receive any calls though? … Mm.

Keito: … Sorry, Kanzaki. It seems I left my phone switched off after the play.

Souma: No. In the end, I was able to meet with Hasumi-dono in person, so all is well.

Souma: However, I am still concerned about this 'trouble' of yours. Will you not confide in us?

Keito: It isn't anything huge. I simply haven't figured out what to do about my 'Feature Live' yet.

Souma: Then you may rely on us! Surely, if the three of us share our wisdom amongst ourselves, then a path shall be cleared for us!

Kuro: I dunno about that… It's not like he asked for our help, and it's a solo show too. Hey, Hasumi danna?

Keito: Ah, well. Kanzaki's feelings do make me happy… Hm? What's the matter, Anzu?

Keito: I could have both of them help me if I needed it?

Keito: That's right…

Keito: ……

Keito: … Kanzaki, Kiryu. Let's go on an outing together.

Keito: If I'm with you guys, I'll definitely be able to show Anzu the 'Natural' side of me she's looking for… ♪

[Some time later]

Kuro: … Walkin' around like this brings back memories from last year. Hasumi, do ya remember?

Keito: Yes. Time passed quickly, it's been over a year since then.

Keito: … Seems you're curious about what happened back then, Anzu? Well, you were partly involved.

Keito: It was shortly after the end of the 'Halloween Party'. You came to the Student Council Office and told me that "The interview you submitted to the magazine was returned."

Keito: They had wanted a more unexpected set of answers, so I decided to go downtown, a place I usually don't frequent, and I happened to meet with these two by chance.

Keito: The rest is as I mentioned in my interview answers. I played games at the arcade, and went shopping for stationery.

Keito: … By the way, Kanzaki. Why are you fidgeting around over there?

Souma: I have a place that I would like to go with Hasumi-dono and everyone else. But since this is related to Hasumi-dono's work…

Keito: You're holding yourself back, right? That is unnecessary, we can go wherever you want to take me.

Souma: Hasumi-dono… Then, with the encouragement from your kind words…

Souma: I would like to go to that 'Tapiohka' shop!

Kuro: Tapioca shop… Huh. I didn't know that place was still around.

Souma: Fufu. It has been a dream of mine to visit this shop with Hasumi-dono and Kiryu-dono again ♪

Souma: … Ah, right. I shall present this 'sutampu kaado' to you, Hasumi-dono!

Keito: 'Get extra tapioca pearls in your drink for free after you've accumulated 30 points' … Did you save these up all on your own?

Souma: I was able to accumulate them by visiting on my own, as well as with the aid of my schoolmates.

Souma: If it is of any help with the photos for the 'pamfureto', it would make me happy…♪

Keito: Just the normal amount of tapioca pearls is enough though…

Kuro: Well, we can’t just ignore Kanzaki’s kindness now, can we? So, I’ll be borrowin’ that stamp card.

Kuro: Clerk, we'd like four drinks with tapioca pearls please. Add extra pearls to one of 'em.

Kuro: What's wrong? Is somethin' the matter little miss? “I'm just the photographer”? Don't say that, wouldn't feel right if you were the only one without a drink.

Kuro: Here ya go Hasumi, your very special tapioca drink.

Keito: Whoa, It's heavy....

Keito: .......

Souma: Hasumi-dono, how does it taste?

Keito: ...You could hardly call this a drink. No matter how much I chew, the quantity of pearls just doesn't decrease.

Kuro: ......♪

Keito: Kiryu, don't just stare at me with that warm and fuzzy gaze. Anzu, you too, don't take pictures so happily.

Keito: … No, feel free to take pictures to your heart’s content. I just remembered Kanzaki’s diligent efforts.

Keito: “I’m sure the fans will love it,” you say? … Hmph, they had better.

Keito: I wouldn’t show a stranger this side of me.

[END]

#shutter chance #Keito Hasumi #Kuro Kiryu #Souma Kanzaki #Tomoya Mashiro

[charmingintrepid]

Tim @intuitiveofficer Lucy have been married for seven years, they met through a mutual friend ten years ago, they clicked the moment they met and started dating very quickly.

It from there turned to love very easily, luckily for them there were no dating rules at the LAPD.

After they had dated for about two years, they tied the knot, it was also during that time they got promoted to Detectives.

Life was great. They enjoy being partners, sure they have their arguments, but what couple doesn’t, it wouldn’t be a marriage without arguments.

Everyone on their team were so happy for them, they were there for them through every step in their relationship, their biggest supporters and strengths.

“I wonder what is in store for us today babe, cause the case we had last night was pretty tough.” At least for him it were, as it had been a domestic case. Domestic cases always were hard for him, cause of his own upbringing. He tried not to let it bother him at work.

But when kids were involved it were hard not to let it affect him, as memories came flooding back to him , memories that he would have done everything to forget. However his wife is his strength and always got him through the hard times.

[thedryswan]

All’s well that ends well

 Day Five

As usual, Scott woke ten minutes before his 6am alarm. Sitting up and stretching, he winced at the pain in his shoulders. His arms ached and his knuckles were red raw from the hours of pounding the punching bag in the gym the previous day. Kayo had cleaned and treated them with witch hazel, carefully bandaging in silence, there were no words which could adequately express the deep, all encompassing sense of loss they both felt.

Dressing slowly, he ran a mental checklist of the day’s tasks. Discussions with lawyers and chairmen of the Tracy Industries board, talking through who needed to do what and what needed signing now that Jeff Tracy had perished aboard the Zero X.

At some point they would need to consider some kind of memorial service, but until John could convince Virgil to unlock his door and emerge from his room, plans would have to wait. By the sound of it, they would likely need to replace a few items of furniture in Virgil’s room and probably plaster a few holes in the walls and give them a coat of paint. At least there wasn’t broken glass or shattered mirrors and tiles in his bathroom to deal with.

Trudging heavy footed down the stairs, Scott paused at the entrance to the sunken lounge and looked across at his father’s desk, the chair unoccupied.

Continuing down to the kitchen, his heart sank. Only a week ago, had it been only a week? He would have found his father in the kitchen, busy brewing coffee, pouring not quite boiling water over Scott’s favourite Rooibos tea leaves, serving freshly baked danish pastries and squeezed fruit juice. Now the room was as unoccupied as the lounge above. A tiny part of his heart had been hoping that his father’s death was just a nightmare.

He sank onto a chair at the kitchen table, staring at Jeff’s empty seat, then flopped forward, burying his head in his arms and weeping silently, not wanting any of his brothers or his grandmother to hear his moment of weakness. Someone had to be the rock of strength holding everything together and, as the oldest son, that was his job. It always had been, ever since his mother had died in the avalanche.

 Day… 2953? 2954?

Rolling over, eyes still shut, Scott flapped a hand around on his bedside table, looking for his phone. Pressing the on button, he stared. Ten minutes past seven? Since when did he sleep through his alarm?

Stomach growling with hunger, he sat up and stretched, wincing at the pain in his right shoulder. It had almost been yanked from its socket a few days prior and the tendons were still complaining.

Pulling on an old USAF t-shirt and tracksuit trousers, he shuffled out onto the landing. Was he imagining the music playing in the distance? Yawning, and walking down the stairs as quietly as possible so as not to wake his brothers, he paused at the entrance to the sunken lounge and looked over at his father’s unoccupied desk chair.

From here, the music was a little louder and he could smell the faint aroma of coffee. Without hurrying, he continued down to the kitchen, blinking at the sight.

At the stove, wearing Virgil’s kitchen apron (a birthday present from the year before, with “Don’t mess with Mama Bear” printed on it), Jeff was waving a spatula, singing along to Neil Sedaka’s Calendar Girl, cooking bacon and eggs.

Pointing to the table, laden with fresh pastries and two jugs of fruit juice, he smiled.

“Your tea’s brewing, and I’ve added Rooibos to the supplies list, you’re running low.”

Scott lowered himself into a chair, nodding mutely and clenching his jaw in a desperate attempt to control his emotions. His father glanced over at him, frowned a moment, then removed the pan from the heat and turned the hob off. Limping slightly, he made his way across to the table and dragged a chair up close to his eldest son.

“I’ve got you, Scooter.” he murmured, reaching out and dragging Scott to sit on his lap, shifting his position to distribute Scott’s weight more evenly.

Without a pause, Scott flung his arms around his father, grabbing handfuls of Jeff’s pink flamingo shirt and began to sob into his shoulder. If his brothers heard him, so what? They had all burst into tears at least once since Jeff had arrived home from his short hospital stay, and none of them would think the less of Scott for those tears of relief.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42373317

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderfam #scott tracy #jeff tracy

[leatherpenance]

for more than a decade i've been trying to make sense of my nonhuman identity and what to call myself; whether that be angelkin, a shard, incarnate of something, idk. time's been passing but i don't have answers still and there's not many resources to help me pick this apart. i'm using this post to write out some of what i've experienced this past decade and if anyone reads it and can relate, i would love to talk with you.

i would like to preface this with the fact i do have a psychotic disorder, but i've also experienced spirits & ghosts that i know were not a product of my brain because i've experienced the paranormal in the presence of other people. when i am having a psychotic break, my thinking also becomes fractured and i can't make sense of my reality, so i'd like to think i can tell the difference between a paranormal experience and psychosis when reflecting. part of me also suspects i have mental illness because of the influence the being i identify with has over me.

ten years ago, my older brother took me to a witch shop after hours to participate in a ritual to "greet the archangels". my older brother and i were both into the occult and paganism, and at the time i worshipped a moon goddess to whom i had an altar for in my loft. this was my first time at a public ritual.

during the ritual, the priestess would ask us to turn to face north, south, etc and we would ask one of the archangels associated with that direction to aid us in our lives. when we turned to greet Michael, we were supposed to ask him to give us strength.

i heard a voice laugh, it was from inside of me but not my own inner dialogue, and he sneered and said toward Michael, "i don't need your strength". i felt a "heat" like fury come toward me that i believed was Michael, and i panicked and said sorry. i was in a cold sweat the rest of the night and tried telling my brother about it later. he was upset at me when i told him, and it was difficult to try and tell him that it wasn't me who said those things to Michael.

i kept feeling like something was there with me after that, both inside and outside of me.

i started researching beings that might be adversaries of Michael. it's been a while now, and i only remember fragments, but i remember speaking to a woman who suggested the name Samael to me. and i believe it is Samael.

when i connect to this piece of myself, i feel unstoppable and manic. it's a feeling that quickly spreads over me and feels like electric shocks running along my bones. it's starts from the ground up, into my feet and up my legs, grows heavy in my stomach and spreads up into my throat, and it feels amazing.

i ended up going to college next to downtown Salem MA, and every weekend i frequented the witch shops there. i ended up befriending a woman who ran one small store, as i was friends with her niece from my hometown and we got along so well. she was a wonderful mentor.

one evening i was in her shop telling her about Samael, but i wasn't using his name. i tend to avoid using his name out loud because it draws him out, and it can be overwhelming. but a man came into the shop in the middle of this, who interrupted our conversation and started talking about himself to my friend. he was a rude, self-obsessed neckbeard type. he began talking about what he believed in and brought up Samael's name.

he told us that Samael loves him so much, and is always there to protect him and cares about him especially. the more he spoke, the more the shop began to heat up. it was like the place was filling up with wrath and i felt like i was going blind, insane, and was sweating uncontrollably. i was full of disgust for him and his ego.

he finally left and my friend turned to me, and confirmed she also felt the awful heat filling the shop, and that something felt terribly off about what just happened. i told her he had been talking about the same angel i had just been telling her about, but hadn't used his name.

in more recent memory, i was joking to my boyfriend that if i am indeed his shard, then i wonder how something like that would work. are shards chosen, or happen by mistake? i told him i didn't feel like any sort of worthy vessel and that it would suck to be stuck with my fucked up ass. this didn't sit well with him, whether it was demeaning myself or demeaning him through doing so, and i felt like i had been slapped in the face. i told my boyfriend i couldn't speak on him anymore that day.

i also feel like all my life i've struggled with two halves of myself. one that was me, and the other a greater, darker, meaner force that made me feel drunk and massive, and was capable of terrifying things. i wouldn't say now it's bad, or inherently evil, and i think i had a lot of things to learn from that part of myself. over time i feel like i've become more whole and less separated. i have felt like i've had to fight against another 'nature'.

there's other little things, such as the archetype of being an "adversary" or "accuser". if i had to describe my relation to so many others, it would be that. i don't know what it is about me that's so polarizing to others, but i draw in certain kinds of people who seem to go off the walls around me, and they bring out the worst in me. it's driven me crazy on countless occasions.

i think it's also relevant that these people tend to be scorpio suns. i don't put much thought into astrology, but it's bizarre that every adversary is a scorpio. my sun sign is Aries, as Samael rules Mars but also has some influence in Scorpio. i bring out the worst in them, and they bring out the worst in me and i confront a frightening amount of shit through it. this hasn't just happened just a couple of times either, it's been at least seven instances. this has dragged me into the lives of rapists, abusers, fucking cult leaders even.

i've hesitated many times to call myself an angel, because that's not exactly it, and i feel bizarre saying that about myself. i don't quite get the difference between a shard and being incarnate either. he's both inside and outside me. i think that would be shard?

i have a lot of thoughts about what Samael means in the universe, who he is, and i've been reading Kabbalistic texts to try and piece together more of my understanding about, everything. but i'll save some of that for another time.

if you read all of this, thanks. if you have any advice, or can relate, or are struggling with knowing your place among angels, i would love to talk with you.

#angelkin #demonkin #alterhuman #divinekin #otherkin #othershards #shards #samael #archangels #angels #otherhearted #spirits #paranormal #witchcraft #psycho thots

[baiboop]

After consistent, and simulated, weather for one thousand four hundred and thirty two years, Adam has never felt more alive.

Seeing the trees dance with different strengths of wind, different directions and patterns, the swarms of leaves in an array of colors. Not green, not stagnant; but, yellow, and orange, and brown, all in different stages of their life cycle.

Different, freshness, change. It was almost overwhelming after being locked in a static mind-scape for so long.

The idea that nature has the capacity for difference, for change, without manipulation from Michael, without Adam requesting it. The real world just… Did what it wanted, when it wanted.

Now that Adam was awarded his freedom, he could finally, finally, reintegrate with what he had been lacking for centuries.

“Michael.” Adam spoke softly, hints of excitement very much present in his tone.

“Yes, Adam?” His angel replied.

“Michael, take me somewhere. I want to be somewhere familiar, and I’d really like to feel the rain on my skin. It’s been so long.”

“Shall I choose the location?” Michael inquired, head cocked slightly to the right.

“Yeah, you’ve got my memories, surprise me.”

“Very well.” Michael replied, sifting through mountains of areas Adam knew, as well as using his angelic eyes to scout current weather conditions in each.

Michaels grace reached out to Adam, cradling his soul to make flight more of a pleasant experience than a disorientating one. Within the couple days the pair had been back on earth Adam had been familiarizing himself with flight.

The two of them had been all over the map in quite a short amount of time.

The very first few times Michael had flown, all those many, many, years ago, it had been wildly unpleasant for him. This, as he now could see, was due to Michael’s carelessness. Michael, back then, had no desire to comfort Adam or see to it that he would be stable during flight.

It felt like ages ago, it was ages ago, but it felt even longer. Adam can’t remember the last time Michael had done anything that wasn’t in his favor, or at least without him in mind.

His Michael would go to the ends of the earth for Adams comfort, for Adams happiness, for Adam.

That Michael, the Michael who didn’t care, the Michael who shoved him down and suppressed him, was completely and utterly a stranger now.

The Michael he’s known for the past ten centuries was a compassionate (in his own way), careful, gentle, and calculated creature. Never would Michael make a move to harm Adam, and Adam knew that. He knew that well.

Michael’s grip on Adam lessened as they landed- The feeling of grace on soul, being as close as sub-atomically possible to one another, it was… Blissful, it was warm, it was protective. It was something Adam rather die with out.

Before Adam even realized, they were back in Windom.

Michael placed them in a back lot, behind Adams old elementary. Adam frequented this parking lot as a teen due to its emptiness. There was a much bigger, and better-paved lot closer to the school. That left the back lot effectively abandoned. Which was perfect for Adam.

When he needed to get out of the house, he would come here. It was just over grown enough that certain parts were shielded from on-lookers by foliage growing on the chain link fence.

There was a large drain situated at the lowest point of the lot, down near the middle. Back in his adolescence, he would’ve walked over to it to drop twigs and rocks down it, and listen as they splashed into the water below.

“Was this a good choice?” Michael said, almost self consciously but still too neutral for Adam to really tell.

“Yeah.” Adam looked around. “Yep, this is perfect.”

“It’s just missing some rain.” Adam said gesturing to Michael as if to say ‘Make it rain, please.’

Michael knew Adams gestures, and even if he hadn’t understood, the two share a mind. There were already storm clouds present above the two, he swiftly obliged Adams silent request, conjuring up the perception.

The clouds darkened even further, wind picking up around them.

Adam only had to wait two minutes before the first droplets started to fall, and only one more until the rain was coming down the hardest he’d ever seen.

The sheer force of the water caused Adam to have a hard time keeping his eyes open, and when they were open he couldn’t see anything.

“Uh, Michael?” Adam said, hand over his eyes and forehead.

“Yes, my love?”

“It’s raining a little to hard, you’re going to cause a flash flood or something.”

“Would you like me to to make it stop?”

“No, no, just make it a little lighter.”

“Of course.”

The rains previous aggressive, pelting droplets finally gave way to softer, more pleasant droplets. A steady fall, but nothing crazy. The accompanying thunder and lighting lulled Adams mind. Pulling him back to a simpler time in his life.

A time that a one point, he would’ve traded anything to get back, but now, now he would never leave Michaels side.

He’s forgotten what it’s like to live in his body alone, and isn’t in any hurry to find out again.

Adam silently sat on the black top, mind heavy with thoughts, his head angled up to the sky and his eyes closed. He let the rain drops roll off of his face, his hair and clothes becoming completely saturated while he did so.

Michael’s projection sat alongside him, hand on top of his own. The consoling gesture was quite welcome.

The two of them stayed that way for what could’ve been hours, but was probably more like thirty five minutes.

Adam lays himself down, letting the streams of runoff water pass down his body and head for the drain. It was probably quite unsanitary, but that meant little to nothing to him anymore.

Adam smiles up into the sky before turning his head to face Michael, Micheal’s eyes are fixated on Adam and Michael’s features are soft and inviting. When his eyes meet Adam’s he offers a warm smile. Doubling down on the expression by lovingly encasing Adams soul with his grace. (Something the pair had dubbed, a grace hug.)

A breathy laugh escapes Adam upon seeing the smile splayed on Michael’s face.

“You know what’s funny?” Adam says.

“No, Adam. What is funny?”

“My mom, she used to tell me that when it rained it was the angels in Heaven crying. The rain was their tears hitting the earth. But it’s raining here, now, and you’re smiling at me.” Adams slight laughter continued.

“That is funny, Adam.” Michael assures, fighting the urge to say angels do not cry, and if they did the tears would certainly not reach to earth.

Even when Michael understands that Adam is using a figure of speech, he can’t help but want to correct it. This was something he had gotten better at not doing as the years went by.

“Do you know what is funny to me, Adam?” Michael reciprocates the original question.

Adam sits back up, leaning in closer to Micheal’s apparition. “What, Michael?”

“You.”

Adam gives Michael a weird look. “Oh yeah? What’s so funny about me?” He replies, playfully.

“Perhaps I chose my words poorly, less funny,more endearing I suppose.” Micheal explains.

“Okay, what is it?” Adam asks, arm now leaning against Michaels.

“Your human tendencies, even after all these years of separation from your kind, you still have the simple desire to lay in the rain. You still recall old memories to me, you still enjoy mundane things. The characteristics that make you human, I find them to be sweetly endearing.”

Micheal pauses, shyly, “You are sweet, Adam.”

“I love you, Michael.” Adam breathes, leaning in closer.

“And I you.” Michael replies, closing the distance.

#featuring a sweet michael #because i need them to be in love rn #after this adam says #michael? #yes adam? #get us some dry clothes and an umbrella now #my socks are getting squishy #okay adam. #and then michael goes the extra mile and gets them rain boots along with their dry clothes and umbrella #this is what i’m doing instead of finishing chapter 8 #why am i like this #i write a lot of midam #i write ficlet after ficlet #and can’t seem to focus on my fic #spn #supernatural #midam #adam milligan #midam is canon asf #michael spn #also adam knows by making michael tamper with the rain he’s not experiencing the naturalness of nature he was talking about before #BUT #give the guy a break #he wants some rain and he doesn’t want to wait #he’s been waiting 1000 years #and even tho michaels helping it #it’s not a mindscape it’s all real #adam is unhealthily codependent on michael #he can’t help it tho #lilly’s midam scribbles

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

You're Going to Be Fine (Part 2)

Fandom: For All Mankind, Ed Baldwin, f!Reader

Word Count: 1819

TW: angst, fluff, injuries, hospital, head injury, memory loss

Notes: Thank you to @ed-baldwin for inspiring me to write a part 2 and to @loverhymeswith for the initial request and for beta reading 💖

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

“She should be waking up anytime now,” a strange, hazy voice said from somewhere in the darkness.

“That’s what you said an hour ago and there has been no change. Stop lying to me and tell me what’s really going on!” Now, that voice you knew. You would recognize Ed’s angry snarl anywhere. It had been directed at you enough times while he trained you or over the years the two of you had been partnered on missions. Yet, while it usually caused you to sink into yourself or hide your head in embarrassment, this time it was strangely comforting.

“I’m sorry, Admiral, but anything involving the brain isn’t an exact science. And after everything she’s been through…. There’s still a chance she might never wake up.”

“Bullshit! She’s one of the strongest people I know and if anyone is coming back from this, it’s her. Now, figure out what’s wrong and wake. Her. Up.” He growled each word with a ferocity that even surprised you.

Swallowing a few times to try and ease the intense dryness in your throat, you managed to weakly croak, “Ed…”

Instantly, you could sense his presence at your side. Then his large hand was cupping your face, his thumb rubbing gently across your cheekbone. “Hey. I knew you would pull through. Now, can you show me those beautiful eyes of yours? Come on. Even just for a second.” It took all of your strength, but you managed to flutter your eyes open to see Ed staring down at you, a huge grin spreading across his lips. “That’s my girl.”

Still trying to make your voice work properly, you rasped, “What happened?”

“A miracle. The Soviets just happened to have a capsule in the area heading back to Earth. Somehow, Houston was able to convince them to stop by our shuttle to pick us up and bring us home. But you fell unconscious before they arrived and…” He glanced up at the doctor who shifted slightly as he avoided looking at either you or Ed.

But what Ed said didn’t make any sense to you. “What are you talking about? The shuttle? We aren’t supposed to leave for another two weeks.”

Ed’s smile dropped from his face as his complexion paled. He gently took your hand as he asked carefully, “Sweetheart…. What is the last thing you remember?”

Sweetheart? Why was Ed calling you sweetheart? Pushing that thought to the side for now, you tried to think back, ignoring the growing pain in your head. “Um…. We were just leaving the flight simulator and heading to the bar to meet up with Gordo, Tracy, Molly….. Dani…..” The pain was getting almost unbearable, but you gritted your teeth and said, “You offered to drive me and…. that’s all I remember. Were we in an accident or something?”

Ed glanced back up at the doctor who motioned for Ed to follow him outside the room. Ed gave your hand a soft pat and a small smile that didn’t meet his eyes before standing and hurrying out of the room.

As you lay back, clutching your head, you could hear Ed yelling angrily in the hall, but you couldn’t make out his words. Yet there was no doubt it had something to do with you.

Besides your head and your throat, the rest of your body didn’t really hurt aside from being tired and just generally sore like you got when you laid in bed too long. Which meant a car accident wasn’t likely. But there was something about the way Ed looked at you when you told him what you remembered that sent a soft shiver down your spine. It was a look of horror and dread.

Finally, after about ten minutes, Ed and the doctor returned. There was no fear or anger on Ed’s face this time, only sadness. Taking your hand, he sat down in the chair next to the bed. “Sweetheart…. The accident happened two weeks after that night we went to the bar after training.”

Your blood ran cold as you stuttered, “W-what?”

Ed nodded. “We were on the way to the moon and the shuttle was struck by debris. We spiraled out of control and you hit your head. I was also hurt, but you managed to patch me up before you passed out. You saved my life.” He squeezed your hand tightly before continuing. “The Soviets brought us home but by the time we could get to an actual medical facility, there was swelling in your brain. There’s a lot of complicated medical stuff I don’t understand that the doctors can explain later, but they operated then placed you in a medically induced coma.”

It felt like you couldn’t get any air into your lungs as the gravity of the situation hit you. Looking up at your commander, you asked, “How long? How long was I…..” Ed hesitated so you pressed. “Ed. Tell me.”

He stared down at where your hands were still linked, his brow furrowing as he struggled to say the words. “A month. It’s been a month since the accident.”

“A month,” you breathed. “So, you’re telling me that I’ve lost six weeks of my life? Just like that?”

“I’m so sorry. But now that you’re awake, it’ll be okay. The doctors said that was the biggest hurdle. So now, you’re going to be fine,” Ed tried to reassure you.

However, nothing he could say would make this better. You had lost so much time, so many memories. And with a head injury this severe, it was highly unlikely NASA would ever let you back into space. In one moment, your life had changed forever, and you couldn’t even remember it.

As the first tears began to drip down your face, the doctor cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Sir, I think it’s better to give her some time right now. I’m sure this has come as a shock.”

Ed nodded, finally releasing your hand as he stood. He started to bend over, his face getting awfully close to the top of your head before he paused and straightened up. If you didn’t know better, it almost seemed as if he were going to kiss you. But that couldn’t be right….. could it?

He muttered that he would be back tomorrow and then he headed for the door. Just before walking out, he paused and looked at you one last time. There was a sad longing you had never seen in his eyes before. But then he was gone.

You settled back against the bed as the doctor began explaining in medical detail what happened, but you couldn’t stop thinking of Ed or that last look on his face. And you wondered what memories you had lost for him to look at you like that.

Ed was true to his word. He came back the next day and the one after that and the one after that, but you couldn’t figure out why. Sure, he was your commander and the two of you had grown close over the time you had been working together but not to the point that it would warrant this sort of attention. Maybe he felt like he owed you since you had apparently saved his life, not that you could remember that.  

But you also weren’t complaining. You had been dreaming about being with Ed since the moment you met him and having him give you this much attention was wonderful. Every day when his head poked through your door, your heart fluttered, and you were just glad they had unhooked your heart monitor so he didn’t notice.

However, the question of why he was here wouldn’t stop nagging at the back of your mind. So, on the fifth day after waking up, you finally got up the nerve to ask him.

As he stretched out in the seat next to you and picked up the paper, you said, “Ed, you know you don’t have to be here. You can read that anywhere.”

Without taking his eyes off of the paper, he replied, “True but this is the only place you are.”

“Why does that matter?” His eyes flickered to yours. “You have a lot more important things to do than babysit me every day. I’m sure NASA isn’t too happy about you being here all the time instead of work.”

“I took some time off. They offered it to me while I recovered and…. it just didn’t feel right going back without you. When we were up there…. Even when you realized something was wrong with you, you never stopped trying to save me. If you hadn’t patched me up like you did, I wouldn’t have survived until help arrived. Plus, you were the one who radioed into NASA in the first place. We were laying there, and I never even noticed the headset, but you did. It was one of the last things you did before passing out and without that, we would have both died up there.”

“Is that all? You feel like you have to be here because I saved you?” He didn’t answer. “Ed, I was just doing my job. We were a team and that meant doing whatever it took to protect each other. Besides, radioing NASA wasn’t exactly a selfless move. It saved me too. So, if that is all this is, don’t feel like you have to stay.”

Ed shifted in his chair as he avoided your gaze. Narrowing your eyes as you stared at him, you asked, “That’s not it, is it? Something happened between us. I don’t know if it was on the shuttle or before, but something’s changed. It’s the way you look at me, it’s…… different. And I don’t know why.”

“It was nothing. I was just scared I was going to lose you up there, that's all.”

“That’s not all, Ed. You’re not a great liar.”

He sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Fine. Yeah, something happened, but it’s not something I can force onto you. You can’t remember what happened so you don’t have the context or the emotional connection to fully understand it and telling you would just ruin everything. One day maybe, but not now. Not like this. So, until then, please, just drop it.”

You thought over his words for a moment before slowly nodding. “Okay. Fine. But just tell me….. it wasn’t anything bad, was it?”

He chuckled deep in his chest. “No, sweetheart. It wasn’t bad at all.”

It was the first time he had called you sweetheart since the day you had woken up, but you took it as a sign that whatever you were forgetting was something worth remembering. However, for now, you would do what he wished and drop it.

For the next hour, the two of you sat in silence. Ed read the paper while you stared at the ceiling. But after a while, your eyes began to droop. As was usually the case when you started to fall asleep, you felt Ed stand up next to you. But instead of heading towards the door like usual, he felt him hovering over you. Peeling your eyes open, you muttered, “Ed?”

The next thing you knew, his lips were gently pressed against yours. Suddenly wide awake, you jolted slightly in surprise but then as his hand traveled up to cup your face, you melted into him. The kiss was tender and gentle, but it had the same sad longing feeling you had noticed in his eyes.

Sooner than you would have hoped, he broke away. But as he ran his thumb over your cheek one final time, he whispered, “Now you know what it feels like.”

Then, before you could think of anything to say, Ed turned and walked out of the room.

Taglist:@loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @sociiallydiisoriiented, @mayhem24-7forever, @lovearne, @ed-baldwin, @lacontroller1991, @bewitchedignition, @sunshineflowerchild789, @merlehs, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @heresathreebee, @fairchildflag, @skvatnavle, @yespolkadotkitty, @katjnordstrom96, @green-socks

#fic #ed baldwin #ed baldwin x reader #ed baldwin x f!reader #joel kinnaman #f!reader #for all mankind #angst #fluff #injuries tw #hospital tw #head injury tw #memory loss tw

[graciecatfamilyband]

First Lines

Thanks @diplomaticprincess for the tag! 🥹 It means a lot to be included among writers, after having had to take a multiyear break and hoping to get back into it. And look at YOU go- 10 fics already! I am impressed. :)

First Lines Tag Game: Rules: share the first lines of your ten most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway ❤️

From most to least recent:

Sweet Escape: “Thanks for the rescue,” Han Solo said as he leaned back against the pilot’s seat headrest. He closed his eyes and sighed. After the crowded ballroom, he was in no hurry to head into the Coruscant traffic. Claustrophobic at the best of times, it was even worse during what was known on the interplanetary hub as the “holiday season.”

Alderaanians Don't Kill Spiders: The thumping had persisted for awhile. It didn’t sound like the sustained clacking of metal on metal that Leia might have expected for what was evidently an ongoing task. It much more resembled the one-two pound of a fist (or, more likely on the Millennium Falcon, a five-count pound) beating a part into working submission on the fly. Leia never understood how Han’s hit-it-until-it-works approach could resolve malfunctions so consistently on a machine engineered to maneuver through space.

Just A Little of That Human Touch: Han lay on his back, panting his way back to normal breath, eyes still rolled back in his head. His fingers grasped the sheets now that the feminine thighs they’d held just minutes ago were gone. The flow of air was welcome on his damp skin. In the heat of the moment, he hadn’t realized how blazing it had got in his cabin. That was— holy kriff.  

No, I Won't Be Afraid: “What’s wrong?” Bail asked, almost before he had accepted the call on his private commlink. Only after he heard himself say the words did he become aware he was already sitting upright in bed in his senatorial apartment on Coruscant. His years as a politician and member of the royal family had given him practice with middle of the night urgencies and conditioned him to respond reflexively. Having no memory of sitting up told Bail he had been asleep when the comm had rung after all, although he felt he had lain in the dark for a very long stretch without any success and would have thought sleep had not found him.

Say My Name: “Well,” Han said, as he pressed the open palm of one hand against Leia’s.

“Well,” Leia repeated, keeping her own palm firmly against his, her arm taut in resistance, their hands meeting in the middle, each pushing against the other in a game they had taken to playing in the weeks since they’d become lovers. It was no real contest of physical strength, but an excuse to touch and a way to channel their natural tendency towards opposition and collision, now that they were spending less time opposing each other and were colliding in other, more interesting ways.

The Social Embodiment of Love: “Come on, Han, I’m starving,” Leia grabbed him by the cuff of his sleeve, tugging playfully. “A guy back there was selling Gapanga fruit for-” “After,” Leia commanded. A hungry Leia was not to be ignored. Han intertwined his hand in hers, removing her grip from his sleeve.

Something Nice: “It looks like you just performed a wingover on your plate,” Luke laughed. “What did you put on that?” “Nothing.” Leia glanced around.  “You want some?” Luke laughed. “What is it?” “Chandrilan armoracia-root mustard. You should try it, it goes well with this.” Luke  shook his head, more at her than her offer. “You hate boiled ruica.”

Tagging: @organanation @msaudreyanne (I thought it would be nice to include someone else who maybe hasn’t published in awhile!) and ANY OTHER WRITERS WHO HAVEN’T BEEN TAGGED YET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#tag games

[mistletien]

K’vira gripped the bow tighter, and with shaking fingers, the Miqo’te notched an arrow and took aim at the horribly painted target on the tree several yalms away. A wave of nausea washed over her as she pulled the string back and a clammy dampness that could only be a nervous sweat started to bead on the back of her neck. Swallowing thickly, she tried to shove aside the discomfort and instead focused on her breathing as she stared down the slash of white against the dark bark.

A decade. That’s how long it had been since K’vira last picked up a bow. 

A flash of red on bleached white sand.

Shaking hands. Were her hands shaking now? She white-knuckled the grip and held her breath.

Her tongue pressed tight against her teeth as she let loose the arrow. She flinched at the sound of metal embedding into the wood as the projectile hit just under the very edge of the mark.

“Not bad,” Aphrodi said from behind her. This too she flinched at. “I’m surprised you actually got so close. I thought for sure you were going to shoot a bush instead.” 

Lowering the weapon, K’vira let out a shuddering breath, and her head swam. “I haven’t held a bow in ten years. I’m just glad I hit the tree.” 

The Viera hummed low in his throat and ruffled the Miqo’te’s short white hair in passing as he moved to retrieve the arrow. He only had a limited supply of them until they reached another town or settlement with a trading post and they could purchase more. No sense in leaving it if it wasn’t broken. 

“How are you feeling?” Aphrodi asked as he carefully started wiggling the arrowhead back and forth to try and loosen it from the bark without taking any more damage.

The question was presented with an air of nonchalance, but K’vira had been traveling with the annoying excuse for a bard for years now and could tell when there were deeper meanings in the words. The two fought regularly and grated on each other's nerves more often than not, but both of them knew the other cared for them deep down. 

This was one of those rare times that the Viera was saying ‘talk to me, show me the wound you’re carrying so I can help’ without explicitly stating it. 

“My arms hurt.”

“You’re a mage. You don’t work out much and it takes a lot of strength to use a bow. I’m surprised your twiggy little arms didn’t snap when you pulled back on the string.” 

K’vira bit her lip. “I don’t know how I feel. There’s nothing.” 

“I don’t think that’s a symbol of a bad thing,” Aphrodi replied as he finished carefully digging the arrow out of the tree and placed it back into his quiver. “You’re probably overthinking it. You want some big epiphany or something. You want the memories to fall off you like a lizard’s old skin and be shiny and new. Sorry, but it doesn’t work like that.” 

The Miqo’te’s cheek scar throbbed softly. Or she thought it did. A long time ago she once heard that scars didn't have pain receptors; anything she felt was all in her head. She never bothered asking if that was true or not.

Her thumb slid along the waxed string of the bow as she mulled over Aphrodi’s words. 

“So what do I do?” she asked softly. 

“You keep trying.” 

#ark does a thing #K'vira Greystone #Aphrodi Garrott #FFXIV #blep blep oc stuff #gently chews on them #aphrodi and k'vira don't hate each other but they bother the fuck out of each other constantly #reluctant found family #but I want aphrodi to help k'vira deal with trauma he will be kind of an ass about it though

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

You're Going to Be Fine (Part 2)

Fandom: For All Mankind, Ed Baldwin, f!Reader

Word Count: 1819

TW: angst, fluff, injuries, hospital, head injury, memory loss

Notes: Thank you to @ed-baldwin for inspiring me to write a part 2 and to @loverhymeswith for the initial request and for beta reading 💖

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

“She should be waking up anytime now,” a strange, hazy voice said from somewhere in the darkness.

“That’s what you said an hour ago and there has been no change. Stop lying to me and tell me what’s really going on!” Now, that voice you knew. You would recognize Ed’s angry snarl anywhere. It had been directed at you enough times while he trained you or over the years the two of you had been partnered on missions. Yet, while it usually caused you to sink into yourself or hide your head in embarrassment, this time it was strangely comforting.

“I’m sorry, Admiral, but anything involving the brain isn’t an exact science. And after everything she’s been through…. There’s still a chance she might never wake up.”

“Bullshit! She’s one of the strongest people I know and if anyone is coming back from this, it’s her. Now, figure out what’s wrong and wake. Her. Up.” He growled each word with a ferocity that even surprised you.

Swallowing a few times to try and ease the intense dryness in your throat, you managed to weakly croak, “Ed…”

Instantly, you could sense his presence at your side. Then his large hand was cupping your face, his thumb rubbing gently across your cheekbone. “Hey. I knew you would pull through. Now, can you show me those beautiful eyes of yours? Come on. Even just for a second.” It took all of your strength, but you managed to flutter your eyes open to see Ed staring down at you, a huge grin spreading across his lips. “That’s my girl.”

Still trying to make your voice work properly, you rasped, “What happened?”

“A miracle. The Soviets just happened to have a capsule in the area heading back to Earth. Somehow, Houston was able to convince them to stop by our shuttle to pick us up and bring us home. But you fell unconscious before they arrived and…” He glanced up at the doctor who shifted slightly as he avoided looking at either you or Ed.

But what Ed said didn’t make any sense to you. “What are you talking about? The shuttle? We aren’t supposed to leave for another two weeks.”

Ed’s smile dropped from his face as his complexion paled. He gently took your hand as he asked carefully, “Sweetheart…. What is the last thing you remember?”

Sweetheart? Why was Ed calling you sweetheart? Pushing that thought to the side for now, you tried to think back, ignoring the growing pain in your head. “Um…. We were just leaving the flight simulator and heading to the bar to meet up with Gordo, Tracy, Molly….. Dani…..” The pain was getting almost unbearable, but you gritted your teeth and said, “You offered to drive me and…. that’s all I remember. Were we in an accident or something?”

Ed glanced back up at the doctor who motioned for Ed to follow him outside the room. Ed gave your hand a soft pat and a small smile that didn’t meet his eyes before standing and hurrying out of the room.

As you lay back, clutching your head, you could hear Ed yelling angrily in the hall, but you couldn’t make out his words. Yet there was no doubt it had something to do with you.

Besides your head and your throat, the rest of your body didn’t really hurt aside from being tired and just generally sore like you got when you laid in bed too long. Which meant a car accident wasn’t likely. But there was something about the way Ed looked at you when you told him what you remembered that sent a soft shiver down your spine. It was a look of horror and dread.

Finally, after about ten minutes, Ed and the doctor returned. There was no fear or anger on Ed’s face this time, only sadness. Taking your hand, he sat down in the chair next to the bed. “Sweetheart…. The accident happened two weeks after that night we went to the bar after training.”

Your blood ran cold as you stuttered, “W-what?”

Ed nodded. “We were on the way to the moon and the shuttle was struck by debris. We spiraled out of control and you hit your head. I was also hurt, but you managed to patch me up before you passed out. You saved my life.” He squeezed your hand tightly before continuing. “The Soviets brought us home but by the time we could get to an actual medical facility, there was swelling in your brain. There’s a lot of complicated medical stuff I don’t understand that the doctors can explain later, but they operated then placed you in a medically induced coma.”

It felt like you couldn’t get any air into your lungs as the gravity of the situation hit you. Looking up at your commander, you asked, “How long? How long was I…..” Ed hesitated so you pressed. “Ed. Tell me.”

He stared down at where your hands were still linked, his brow furrowing as he struggled to say the words. “A month. It’s been a month since the accident.”

“A month,” you breathed. “So, you’re telling me that I’ve lost six weeks of my life? Just like that?”

“I’m so sorry. But now that you’re awake, it’ll be okay. The doctors said that was the biggest hurdle. So now, you’re going to be fine,” Ed tried to reassure you.

However, nothing he could say would make this better. You had lost so much time, so many memories. And with a head injury this severe, it was highly unlikely NASA would ever let you back into space. In one moment, your life had changed forever, and you couldn’t even remember it.

As the first tears began to drip down your face, the doctor cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Sir, I think it’s better to give her some time right now. I’m sure this has come as a shock.”

Ed nodded, finally releasing your hand as he stood. He started to bend over, his face getting awfully close to the top of your head before he paused and straightened up. If you didn’t know better, it almost seemed as if he were going to kiss you. But that couldn’t be right….. could it?

He muttered that he would be back tomorrow and then he headed for the door. Just before walking out, he paused and looked at you one last time. There was a sad longing you had never seen in his eyes before. But then he was gone.

You settled back against the bed as the doctor began explaining in medical detail what happened, but you couldn’t stop thinking of Ed or that last look on his face. And you wondered what memories you had lost for him to look at you like that.

Ed was true to his word. He came back the next day and the one after that and the one after that, but you couldn’t figure out why. Sure, he was your commander and the two of you had grown close over the time you had been working together but not to the point that it would warrant this sort of attention. Maybe he felt like he owed you since you had apparently saved his life, not that you could remember that.  

But you also weren’t complaining. You had been dreaming about being with Ed since the moment you met him and having him give you this much attention was wonderful. Every day when his head poked through your door, your heart fluttered, and you were just glad they had unhooked your heart monitor so he didn’t notice.

However, the question of why he was here wouldn’t stop nagging at the back of your mind. So, on the fifth day after waking up, you finally got up the nerve to ask him.

As he stretched out in the seat next to you and picked up the paper, you said, “Ed, you know you don’t have to be here. You can read that anywhere.”

Without taking his eyes off of the paper, he replied, “True but this is the only place you are.”

“Why does that matter?” His eyes flickered to yours. “You have a lot more important things to do than babysit me every day. I’m sure NASA isn’t too happy about you being here all the time instead of work.”

“I took some time off. They offered it to me while I recovered and…. it just didn’t feel right going back without you. When we were up there…. Even when you realized something was wrong with you, you never stopped trying to save me. If you hadn’t patched me up like you did, I wouldn’t have survived until help arrived. Plus, you were the one who radioed into NASA in the first place. We were laying there, and I never even noticed the headset, but you did. It was one of the last things you did before passing out and without that, we would have both died up there.”

“Is that all? You feel like you have to be here because I saved you?” He didn’t answer. “Ed, I was just doing my job. We were a team and that meant doing whatever it took to protect each other. Besides, radioing NASA wasn’t exactly a selfless move. It saved me too. So, if that is all this is, don’t feel like you have to stay.”

Ed shifted in his chair as he avoided your gaze. Narrowing your eyes as you stared at him, you asked, “That’s not it, is it? Something happened between us. I don’t know if it was on the shuttle or before, but something’s changed. It’s the way you look at me, it’s…… different. And I don’t know why.”

“It was nothing. I was just scared I was going to lose you up there, that's all.”

“That’s not all, Ed. You’re not a great liar.”

He sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Fine. Yeah, something happened, but it’s not something I can force onto you. You can’t remember what happened so you don’t have the context or the emotional connection to fully understand it and telling you would just ruin everything. One day maybe, but not now. Not like this. So, until then, please, just drop it.”

You thought over his words for a moment before slowly nodding. “Okay. Fine. But just tell me….. it wasn’t anything bad, was it?”

He chuckled deep in his chest. “No, sweetheart. It wasn’t bad at all.”

It was the first time he had called you sweetheart since the day you had woken up, but you took it as a sign that whatever you were forgetting was something worth remembering. However, for now, you would do what he wished and drop it.

For the next hour, the two of you sat in silence. Ed read the paper while you stared at the ceiling. But after a while, your eyes began to droop. As was usually the case when you started to fall asleep, you felt Ed stand up next to you. But instead of heading towards the door like usual, he felt him hovering over you. Peeling your eyes open, you muttered, “Ed?”

The next thing you knew, his lips were gently pressed against yours. Suddenly wide awake, you jolted slightly in surprise but then as his hand traveled up to cup your face, you melted into him. The kiss was tender and gentle, but it had the same sad longing feeling you had noticed in his eyes.

Sooner than you would have hoped, he broke away. But as he ran his thumb over your cheek one final time, he whispered, “Now you know what it feels like.”

Then, before you could think of anything to say, Ed turned and walked out of the room.

Taglist: @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @nik2blog, @shirley2996

#sfw repost #fic #ed baldwin #ed baldwin x reader #ed baldwin x f!reader #joel kinnaman #f!reader #for all mankind #angst #fluff #injuries tw #hospital tw #head injury tw #memory loss tw