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diyabloko · 1 year

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idk if someone do that like this, but i want to share my goldrose drabbles here. considering the fact that I still can't get used to ao3.

this one is hurt/comfort and there's the joe×kate side line also. and little tip before start: sorry my mistakes if there's any.

Joe leans against the wall and feels his eyelids flutter. Nervous, tired, or sad - who knows, but it's getting hard. Everything is pressing and it's hard to move on at times like this. Even when your life is tightly intertwined with someone else, it can be terribly lonely, and even realizing how stupid it is at his age and experience, it doesn't get any easier. He turns the key over in his hands, but he can barely overcome his doubts.

When it seems that a person is incapable of leaving you, they will soon do so. Just like mother did. For example. So, reflecting on the relationship with his girlfriend, Goldberg catches a nagging thought for a moment: "Even though it seems different, everything is unstable". Kate is helding close by nothing but a promise - she can lose her morals and leave, leave him to drown in lies and blood whenever she wants. All he has to do is make a wrong move, step on her territory of identity, and he'd lose her trust and specialness in her eyes. And it's easy. She's stubborn.

His face is gently taken in slightly stiff palms. This person hesitate for a moment, and then kiss him gently, forcing him to hug their shoulders. Joe stubbornly pushes his thoughts away. He is afraid that everyone might leave him again. He might not be enough again. He could be a lost boy again, with his life in danger, even if he has a new name and hairstyle, even if he has his own money and home. He can be abandoned again, and it is painful enough, so for some moment he even wants to grab Kate and hold her by force, as if she were in a glass cage that he is moving from city to city. In fear. In hatred. But close.

"I'm always here, Joe".

Words ease the burden. Thoughts still rage, but they're getting easier to control. For some reason, that kiss makes him want to kill. To kill someone so that he can share heavy secret with Kate, to keep her at least in this way, in the faint hope that shared lies will bind them together more than shared mornings.

But he is always there. And this realization does help to forget everything for a moment. Rhys runs his fingers from his ear to his chin, looks with his cold eyes, and smiles slightly. He is always here, although at the same time he is never there.

"One day you will learn to answer instead of being silent in response. Maybe then it will be easier to be alone with you."

"Rhys."

"That's already something. Go on, keep talking," he smoothly plunges into the hug, as if deliberately wrapping Joe in his arms so that he does not get out on his own. Thanks to Rhys's waywardness, Goldberg hardly ever feels pathetic for having to comfort himself. It's as if Rhys was never fictional, he was never contained within the comfortable confines of an imaginary friend. Or something like that. He always walked on the edge of reality, but always hugged outside of it.

"The peace is pressing on me. And I'm afraid to be alone in it."

"Let's go for a run. Just say the word, and I'll remind you who to kick in the ass. And the peace is gone."

"I can't kill every time I'm sad."

"And who came up with this?" He runs his fingers through Joe's hair, as if forgetting that it's not as long as it was in London. He continues to play with it, making a mess. But it works. The mess he makes has always helped Joe to put his thoughts in order - surprisingly, this contradiction is not the first wierd thing that makes sense to Joe in this relationship. "You're not alone now."

"«Now» - since when?"

"Since you separated me. Since you started dividing your actions into "your own" and "forced" ones. Since you started dividing yourself into the person you are and the person you had to become. And you know the answers to these questions very well. As well as everything I tell you."

"Yes, I do. But I don't understand. Just like I don't understand why you're still here. Why, even after accepting you, you're still... Not a part of me?"

"I am a part of you, dummy. And we still have a long way to go," he doesn't let Joe slip out of his arms again, as if he's really trying to join someone else's body in this way. But it doesn't work either, it only gets hotter in some places from the close contact. "Now I don't want to be just a thought. Now I have a form, I have a direct influence, I have a voice and actions, even if now only for your attention. It's much easier to be constrained by the boundaries of an imaginary personality than to be one of the options."

"How sad do you think it is if a part of me is comforting me?"

"I think it's more joyful than if someone else did it instead. And that's what I'm getting at. No one can take me away unless they kill both of us. I am always with you, and my thoughts remain the most important for your attention, because you can't get away from them. And our love will not disappear. And this is what you always needed - to lock someone inside you and live with them. Because everyone else was leaving and dying, and I won't leave and I won't die, because we are one, and this is the happiness we deserve by the fact of being."

Time was losing weight in conversations with Rhys. Because all this could happen in a few seconds of thought, or it could last for hours of tears. After living together became routine, counting time in particular became a silly idea. It's not always a good thing, but it's always amazing, as if mental disorders have opened the door to superpowers.

"Joe. You will not be alone. You will be miserable, but not alone. And I will always be here to remind you of that."

#joe x rhys #you netflix #you s4 #you spoilers #rhys montrose #you #goldrose #drabble #fic #fanfic #hurt/comfort #joe goldberg #kate galvin #joe x kate #is it gay to have imaginable supportive boyfriend?

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historicalfictionenthusiast · 8 months

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Who tf invented modern dating culture because this is awful. Is it really too much to ask to get dressed up in the latest fashions and dance with eligible suitors in elaborate ballrooms and live out my irl Mr. Darcy hand scene ??? Why must I snapchat

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parvula-elektra · 1 year

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Rhys asked babygirl if he was lost

#‘are you lost babygirl?’#adjfsksv #i’m sorry 💀#joe goldberg #rhys montrose #kate galvin #joe x rhys #rhys x joe #goldrose #you netflix #you season 4 #incorrect quotes

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shawty-writes-a-little · 1 year

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They literally gave us goldrose and thought we’d be interested in something that painfully hetro for endgame? What the fuck? The target audience is Hannigram homoeroticism enjoyer, the target audience was there for johnlock bbc queerbaiting, the target audience is nerosporus pilled, the target audience makes destiel memes to convey big news…do these writers live under a rock?

#the audience is here to clown #they’ve seen it all #like we’ve had Tyler and Edward from ***** ****#name any criminal gay ship we’ve had it before #and we’ll ALWAYS tune in #Joe x Kate endgame?????#how about I get insufferable #Joe and Rhys man😭😭😭😭#boy best friends #GOD #goldrose #you s4 #you netflix #joe goldberg #rhys montrose #jonathan moore

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thequeenofsastiel · 1 year

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Watching the final part of s4 of You, just starting ep 8, and I'm deeply disappointed that they went with the Fight Club rip-off instead of being brave and giving us murder husbands.

#am I still bitter about Hannibal being canceled #and am emotionally taking it out on this show?#probably #but #still #it would have been far more interesting my way #you netflix #you spoilers #goldrose #joe goldberg #rhys montrose #rhysjoe #rhys x joe #joe x rhys #joerhys #also tbh Kate deserves better

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munsuneddie · 2 years

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eddie’s love language being physical touch but gets all overwhelmed and shy when he feels your hands roam his chest, hips, shoulders, anywhere you can get to. he would take in an involuntarily sharp breath because it’s something he has very little experience with.

you’d notice the way his body tensed at your hot touch, gently taking your hands away. “everything okay, eds?”

eddie’s face would flush in embarrassment, not used to being vulnerable and exposed like this with somebody he cared deeply for. which, was also something he wasn’t used to.

“y-yeah, sweetheart. ‘m fine.” he’d mumble, unsure how to explain himself in the right way. a way that wouldn’t make you look at him like everybody else did: like he was a freak.

you’d cock an eyebrow at your suddenly shy, soft-spoken boyfriend. it was so unlike eddie to not say what was on his mind. “i don’t buy it, eddie. it’s like you’re not even here.” and you don’t mean for it to come out as flat as it did, but it was too late when he winced.

“i know, ‘m sorry baby,” his hand would find home at the base of your neck as he rubbed small circles with his thumb, urging you to meet his eyes. “i guess im just not used to… all of this.” eddie gestured the two of you with his other hand and hoped it made enough sense so he wouldn’t embarrass himself further.

you softened instantly, laced your fingers with his and kissed the back of his hand. he’d look at your hands all jumbled together, soft dewy gloss shimmering on his skin, and wondered if the knots in his stomach would ever go away. but then his eyes fluttered back to yours and it was like the entire world dissolved behind you, your eyes gentle and loving.

“eddie, we can go as slow as you want to. just tell me if it’s ever too much, okay?” you whispered, not ever in a million years thinking it would be you to comfort him; a metalhead who wore handcuffs on his belt and considered drug dealing a job. “i love you, even if you hate being touched by me…too soon?” you joked, trying to lighten the tension that had suddenly settled in the room.

you sat in silence for a beat, about to backpedal thinking you went too far. but eddie’s furrowed look evaporated as he laughed loudly at your joke, an incredulous look on his face when he finally calmed down. “yeah, too fuckin’ soon! christ.” but he had to stifle his laughter by biting down on his bottom lip.

you smiled at him; so gorgeous, eddie thought - and you leaned in to give him a soft but sugary sweet kiss. “i love you too, pretty girl,” he mumbled when you pulled away, hot breath fanning your mouth. without another word, eddie pulled you on top of him, wrapped his arms around your back, and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

turned out, it was possible for eddie’s anxieties to completely vanish without a trace. only weeks later was he climbing all over you as you watched a movie with your friends, his hands roaming your figure and tugging you endlessly closer to him. if the two of you did anything together that didn’t involve your hands, eddie would insistently hold yours. eddie! i’m trying to eat! you’d scolded him once when he stole your hand away from the table. he’d only shrug with a well, your other hand is free, sweetheart.

and though he was often sometimes insufferable, you could never deny the intimacy that eddie had now craved. you realized you’d do anything for him, anything at all to make him happy.

#love me some bashful eddie #okay gn #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #eddie munson x reader #joe quinn #joseph quinn blurb #eddie munson hc #shut the hell up kate

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beautyinsteadofashes · 4 months

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there's doomed by the narrative and then there's my type of ship which I think is called never intended by the narrative. It's the political marriage or the unrequited best friend or the pre-hero's journey boyfriend or a character they barely interact with and my brain just goes "that one"

#This post was inspired by #nikolina #Ethan X Rachel #Barney x Robin #Frank x Claire #Stories where you just want the character to be able to go back home or forget about the trauma but of course they can't #It's why I was originally a Gale shipper without having read the books #Emma x Graham #Carenzo #Calijiah #Or tv shows where the actor is doing THE MOST like they're single handedly keeping that ship alive with their background acting #I saw this in a show recently and I can't remember what it was #Or they were always meant to be a temporary thing #portwell #Roy X Keeley #Felicity X Noel #Emma X Joe #The halcyon #Allan X Kate #stelena #Or you want them to be free of the war and drama and love triangle and just marry the prince or nobleman #Ooooo it's #Beatrice X Pedro #Beatrice X don Pedro #Thor X sif #Henry Crawford X Fanny Price #Colonel Fitzwilliam X Elizabeth #Something Borrowed #Winn x Lena #Winthor

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imgondeletedis · 19 days

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since this is like the saddest song on the album imo might as well start writing a fic (one shot) inspired by it because i love being tortured.

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johndoe-lesbo · 1 year

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I just finished the entirety of You season 4 and now I feel like I just had a religious experience. I don’t care about the negativity. I loved season 4. Love this show. Loved the finale. Can’t wait for a 5th season! (SPOILERS IN TAGS)

#I feel like I’m hardcore shipping Kate and Joe now #I’m still a goldrose thruther tho!#I can have joe be in love with 2 people #never thought I would actually even concider Joe x Kate #but here we are!#joe goldberg #you season 4 spoilers #you season 4 part 2 #you netflix #Netflix #tv shows #me post #🖤🖤🖤

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diyabloko · 1 year

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i've got somethink yk.. spicy. goldrose boys are precious and i love to write about their playful and unholy things.

improvised tags: rhys is imaginable, s4 post-canon, a bit of joe/kate is there.

18+, i guess.

Joe reaches out, closes his eyes, hoping to immerse himself in these sensations that teeter on the edge of reality. Seeing Rhys's face is very satisfying, looking into his eyes dissolves constructive thoughts, but hearing his giggles and feeling his hand on his hips is a particular kind of exquisite pleasure that he can afford in a spacious bed after a day of work. And then tiredly watching something with Kate, sharing a bored libido and lingering fatigue. But she's a businesswoman, and Joe is a crazy man.

"Rhys." His hand almost slides from Rhys's shoulder to his back, but Joe only digs his fingers in harder, hoping to keep everything in its usual position. He opens his eyes slightly, looking at the face from under his eyelashes in anticipation. Who could doubt that the best partner is your own thoughts? Especially when they're so beautiful, with their hair in disarray and their eager expression. And with a black shirt, rolled up sleeves, an exquisite watch, bony fingers... That are happy to go under the clothes.

"You know, you should think less about my name when you're horny. Your girl will have questions if you kiss her with the name of a murdered London mayoral candidate. But I'm curious to see how you'll get out of this, Goldberg," he turns away a little and looks at his hands. He thinks as he undoes the buttons on Joe's pants and stares at his underwear for a while, finally caressing him gently through it. "You know I'm not the best counselor, but I'm a very, very good gloater from the sidelines."

"I should have found a less talkative person to be my companion."

"How polite of you to suggest that I should shut up. But who among us doesn't know how much you enjoy my conversations?" It's hard to question his remarks. Not only because the image of him skillfully lubricating his fingers flashes before eyes, but also because it's hard to find even a shred of lie in them. If Rhys didn't exist (what a miracle, so he does exist now? Who's you trying to decieve?), all that Joe would have to do is listen to old videos, listen to the timbre, catch phrases and keeping them in mind, be content with his imagination. False and cruel, because now-dead-Rhys stories about his favorite lunch would not work at all, unlike his dirty, mundane conversations about dirty, mundane affair. He wants to reproach him in order to encourage him more - and he knows this because he knows Joe. That is, because he is Joe. But it doesn't matter that much anymore. Especially when the feedback becomes more like a whimper through closed lips. Especially when his fingers are getting in the Joe, not waiting in vain. "Actually, you made two mistakes. You couldn't have chosen anyone but Rhys. One, you pervert, only bite at big fish. And secondly, you always choose yourself as a companion, my friend, only this time you have a skillful repeater for your silent head. And a realizer. And anything else you need and I can give you. Be a good boy, don't strain so much, I still need to adjust to you."

"We don't have a lot of time. You can just..."

"I'll decide what I can do," he touches fingers to Joe's cheek, gently tickling the stubble, as if to offset the harsh tone with care. Joe only needs one eye contact to straighten up, his muscles doing a great job of outlining the position of Rhys's fingers. Rhys only whispered a reassuring whisper as he moved his lips to Joe's. Kissing him while slowly moving his fingers as if trying to get used to the bizarre stringed instrument. Eventually, Joe also makes sounds, hiding them among his sighs. At first uncertain, but eventually rhythmic, sharp, and rapidly fading away when Rhys wanted to slow down or speed up.

Eventually, the position changed to a more horizontal one, and Joe couldn't resist the urge to lie down, letting the persistent, caring movements take over. Along with silly comments that surprisingly did not spoil the mood. Probably because Rhys, no matter what he says, deserves to be heard. And felt. And in some moments, time seemed to freeze in space.

"What did you say?" his voice sounds demanding. Mocking. Joe isn't sure if he said anything. But since everything happens in his head, maybe he haven't such need at all. But Rhys is the ruler in his head, and he knows better. His touch brings back memories to the beat of his heart. The partner realizes this as he approaches. "How is this, 'Further'? Explain it to me."

"Are you going to limit yourself to your fingers?"

"I'm sorry, do you see anything else of yours that I can use? Keep in mind that my fingers are your fingers, and your dick, with all due respect, can't reach desired point. Unless I'll separate it. But I assure you that you don't want that," he stutters, biting his lip. He waggles his eyebrows. - "You're the one who gets along with genital torture, between the two of us. It's a personal insult."

"Don't mock me. You know how it works better than I do. І... You know exactly how to... How to make me believe it."

"Like in my hands? Your hands. Like my kisses? Your imagination. Like anything that's mine? It's not mine, Joe."

"What's your point?"

"Give me something that is mine. Figuratively. We'll get something," he whispers the last part against Joe's ear, eventually kissing his cheek, teasing him with movements as he watches the stomach twitch with sharp breathing. "Or do you only use sex shops to plan murders? We can make up something perverted, then, if it helps. Come on."

"And how would that be yours?"

"Not a figment of your imagination about me. Just a controlled element of it. By me, of course."

"No. It's still my decision in the end."

"Oh, yes. I like to think it's your decision even more. Stay with the thought of sex in your mind and decide what you want to happen next."

He kisses him, and when he lets go, Joe looks ahead of him and fills with his usual confusion. He's gone. Just like he always does. He will reappear soon, making a joke about a lonely and intense orgasm, but for now he is somewhere secretly lurking in the depths of the unconscious.

And within minutes of Goldberg catching his breath, the door opens. Sturdy heels clack a little, and he doesn't even realize how he's jumping up to meet Kate. She's stunning. And pleasantly tired. With some kind of package and slightly furrowed brows. But as soon as she sees the guy in the hallway, her face quickly softens. She leaves her coat at the entrance and, stepping toward him, manages to look around with interest, as if looking for signs of changes in some of the interior details.

"There seems to be hot in here. Why are you so red?"

"You can tell? I..." he gently touches her hand in greeting, but eventually shakes his head. - "I was moving the wardrobe in the room. I overestimated my strength."

"You rascal," she giggles, touching his neck caringly. He leans in to meet her, and eventually barely hugs her with his free arm. - "You overestimate yourself in many ways. Would I be the first to say that you are a terrible liar?"

"Well, then she bites horribly at your horrid lies, y'know?" Rhys appears as if from behind her, passing through the partners to the open space in the aisle. "The poor girl doesn't know much, and chooses not to know much. You have to appreciate her for that."

"Hey. Joh... Joe," she snaps her fingers in front of his face, and eventually follows the trajectory Rhys had mapped out to put her things on the table. Rhys only looks at the packages with interest, spinning in place. "You don't have to make up excuses for jerking off. It's not like I'm keeping a record of our sex life."

"She should have. Listen, you have to tell her about your 'further'."

"I'm sorry. I still didn't catch my breath yet," Goldberg adjusts shoes as he enters, looking concentrated, just to avoid making eye contact with anyone present. Or absent. It depends.

"Don't tell me I interrupted you. Because I definitely won't be able to help you with that," she catches herself from continuing. She stops talking. She sighs. As if she wants to say something, she lets Joe recover. "I bought your cereal. You can thank me."

"How thoughtful. Joe, don't be an asshole, thank her."

"Thank you."

#smut #joe x rhys #you netflix #you s4 #you spoilers #you #rhys montrose #goldrose #joe goldberg #joe x kate #drabble #fanfic #fic

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yurizinmaster · 1 year

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What's Your Favorite Character From Each Anthology ???

well, I have several characters from the anthology that I like but I'll put my two from each game haha

Man Of medan = Charlie And Joe

little Hope = Daniel And Angela

House Of ashes = Jason And Joey

Devil in me = Erin And Kate

I will give a bonus :D

The Character I Hate Most in the entire anthology is None ;-; Although some are Boring, that is, I made this bonus just for people to waste time '-.- sorry guys

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geassgirls · 1 year

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Akito the Exiled end card

#olivia x ferilli #hilda fagan #ferilli baltrow #olivia reuel #sarah danes #chloe winkel #kate novak #code geass #akito the exiled #joe wise #code geass akito the exiled #boukoku no akito #code geass boukoku no akito #official art

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liebgotts-lovergirl · 1 year

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Fire On Fire: Chapter 17

(Ch. 16) ... (Ch. 1)

II Gallery II Symbol Guide II

Summary: It seems like the only memories that have returned are the ones Alix doesn't want to remember and when she hits her breaking point, Joe is determined to be there for her every step of the way. He may not know what exactly she's been through but he knows she's been through enough.

WARNINGS: ANGSTY. Trust issues, PTSD episode (flashbacks & panic attack specifically), domestic violence/abuse

A/N: HOOOOOOO BOY, this one really puts the HURT in Hurt/Comfort, folks, so buckle up for some backstory bc this one gets Dark.

Taglist: @latibvles @softguarnere @lieutenant-speirs @mccall-muffin @parajumpboots @brassknucklespeirs @hxad-ovxr-hxart @holdingforgeneralhugs @sleepisforcowards @emmythespacecowgirl @vibing-away

Contemporary: September 22nd, 1944. Zetten-Andelot, Netherlands.

After his disastrous exit the day prior, Alix hadn't expected to see Joe Liebgott ever again.

But nevertheless, when she awoke the next morning and peered over the side of her cot, there he was, lying on the dusty hardwood floor, asleep, with his bunched-up jacket under his head and a rifle by his side.

"Sad, isn't it?" Nixon remarked dryly, following her gaze to the paratrooper's slumbering form.

"One of our best attack-dogs and he's been here all night, waiting for you like a lost fucking puppy."

"What?" the agent breathed softly, trying to process what her handler had said. "You're kidding."

Why? Why would he bother?

Nixon chuckled and closed the files he had been leafing through, seemingly delighted to take a break for a little bit of gossip.

"Kid's crazy" the intelligence officer commented wryly, taking a stab at the air with his pen for emphasis.

"Whether crazy about you or just crazy remains to be seen. But I heard he even paid Penkala twenty bucks to take over guarding prisoners so he could be here, if you can believe it."

Alix just stared blankly, still grappling with the news.

Nothing was making sense.

She and Joe couldn't have been together in that way..They just couldn't have been.

There was no way someone like him would want someone as damaged as her when he could have anyone...

And besides, Alix reasoned. Fraternization is forbidden.

And even if it wasn't, her mother never would have allowed it.

But even still, it would have been her first real relationship since...So if it had been real, like he seemed convinced it was... surely she would remember...Wouldn't she?

"I can't," she mumbled, feeling a cold wave of nausea sweep over her in her confusion. "I can't believe it."

"Well you'd better start, Ziskeit," a husky voice yawned from below. "'Cause it's true."

Alix glanced toward the noise and saw that the paratrooper from the day prior was awake now, stretching his long legs out in front of him and propping himself up on his elbows with another languid yawn.

The soft morning light pouring in through the nearby window made the room seem several degrees warmer than the icy September air outside and the bright flecks of scattered gold in his eyes seemed to spark in its glow, illuminating them like sunshine through a glass of whiskey.

Even with the mud and grime smeared haphazardly across his face like camo paint, Alix couldn't help but stare as the paratrooper fished a loose cigarette from his pocket.

Eyeing him carefully, it was easy to see how startlingly handsome Joe was, but not in the usual way. He wasn't clean-cut and upper-crust, the type she could bring home to her family. Instead, he was ruggedly attractive, all rough edges and roguish grins that could've brought her to her knees in an instant.

Noticing her gaze, Joe shot her a playful wink.

"Take a picture, gorgeous," he teased. "It'll last longer."

"You're incorrigible," Alix managed lamely.

Joe just shrugged with a wicked grin that made her stomach turn dizzy somersaults.

"Eh, you love it," he remarked cockily, running a hand through his thick brown hair in a vain effort to tame it.

The smugness of his tone made Alix roll her eyes but a grudging smile quirked up the corners of her lips anyway.

"There it is!" Joe announced with a sudden burst of energy lighting up his face. "There's that gorgeous fuckin' smile I been waiting on. Jesus, I missed that."

Alix flushed, suddenly even more self-conscious, when she heard a muffled knocking sound from the other side of her cot, where her case officer was standing, dramatically banging his head against the wall.

"Alright, that's it," he sighed exasperatedly once he had her attention. "I'm out of here. Can't get any fucking reports done with you two lovebirds driving me to drink."

Her handler threw back one last round of liquor from his flask for emphasis.

"Short drive," Alix quipped easily and Nixon choked on his whiskey, coughing.

"Well on second thought, just for that little comment, I think I'll take my sweet time," her handler snarked once he'd recovered, reaching over to the bedside table where he'd stashed another stack of files with a mischievous expression.

As he sifted through the pages of each file, making sure nothing was missing, Nixon was unusually quiet and Alix found herself letting out a slow sigh of relief that he hadn't done anything petty...just as the final folder snapped shut.

"You crazy kids have fun now," Nixon remarked, a Cheshire Cat grin spreading across his face as he noticed Alix's cheeks blossoming a vibrant shade of fuchsia.

"Oh and Lieb--"

He shifted the folders to his opposite arm so he could point directly to the younger paratrooper, who was looking from mentor to mentee with a bemused smirk like he was watching at tennis match.

"Wrap it before you tap it, m'kay? That's a fucking order."

"Yes sir," Joe replied with a lazy salute and Nixon, apparently satisfied with this level of humiliation, made his exit, leaving Alix to cover her face in embarrassment as some nearby patients snickered.

∆∆━━━━∆∆━━━∆∆━━━∆∆

"Is he that much of an asshole to everyone else or am I just special?" Alix groaned once she was sure her mentor was out of earshot.

"Nixon? Never could tell," Joe answered with a good-natured shrug. "But he spends most of his time with other officers so it's not like us fuckin' grunts see much of him anyhow."

Alix shifted positions on the rusty metal bedframe, which creaked loudly in complaint at every movement, creating a minor vacancy halfway between the foot of the bed and the top.

She didn't want to be too forward or give this guy any ideas but at the same time, she couldn't deny that there was a part of her that was intrigued by him and wanted to know more.

Seemingly oblivious to her reservations, Joe was still lounging on the hard floor beside the bed, smoking yet another cigarette and lightly fingering the worn Magen David pendant linked to his dog tags as though he was checking to be sure it was still there.

"You don't have to stay on the floor, you know," Alix informed him awkwardly, finally working up the courage to address it directly. "I know it's probably not too comfortable down there."

"Eh, 's not too bad," Joe shrugged but he stood up anyway, hooking his thumbs in his pockets.

The young paratrooper hovered for a moment, shifting from foot to foot nervously as though waiting for something.

Then it occurred to her: He was waiting for her invitation.

Alix blinked, startled by this newfound realization.

Clay never would have sought her permission for anything; the world had to revolve around him and him only.

The young spy nibbled on her lip for a moment, trying to find the words to encourage the paratrooper, -- Joe, she kept reminding herself. His name is Joe-- to sit on the bed without him taking it the wrong way.

But she didn't want to seem too familiar...Not so soon.

Joe was leaning one shoulder against the wall casually, as though he'd always belonged there, his lanky frame casting a shadow over Alix and shielding her from the bright sunlight.

"Thanks for the shade," she joked and Joe inclined his head politely but she could see something more behind the smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Anytime, gorgeous, anytime."

His voice was husky and his posture self-assured, a little cocky even, but not arrogant.

Leaning against the wall like that and smoking his cigarette, his deep brown eyes tracing her every feature as though trying to figure out a puzzle, he reminded her of those striking, hardboiled P.I.s in the crime melodramas she used to sneak out to see as a kid.

"You doin' alright, Ziskeit?"

He cocked his head and Alix finally found her voice.

"Shit, yeah, I'm...I'm swell," she stammered, inwardly cursing her head injury.

She was nervous enough in front of this attractive stranger on top of it, finding the words for a normal conversation felt like groping around in the dark for a light switch. "Um...Would you...Do you wanna sit down?"

"Sure thing, Zees, just tell me where ya want me."

As close as you want to be, Alix wanted to say but she banished those thoughts as quickly as they'd come.

It wasn't proper to be so forward. What would her mother say?

Perhaps it was simply a trick of the light but the way his warm brown eyes crinkled when he smiled made Alix's stomach do another little somersault of glee and she had to avert her eyes to avoid the heat she could feel beginning to creep up her cheeks.

Taking his place near the middle of the bed, Joe's frame was so slight that the metal didn't even creak.

Unsure of what to say or do next, a minute passed between them as the pair were seemingly struck with an uncommon shyness, each flushing slightly when the other would sneak a glance out of the corner of their eye.

There was a brief silence and Alix found herself praying hoping that her heartbeat wasn't palpable through the bed.

Just say something, Alix, she urged herself as though coaxing a child with stage-fright. Use your words.

But it seemed Joe had the same thought because they both began to speak at the same time, cutting each other off and causing them both to dissolve into nervous laughter.

"Well shit," Joe remarked, his face seeming to light up at the sound of Alix's giggles.

Rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand, he gestured politely for Alix to continue with his left.

"I was just going to ask where you're from," she replied with a weak smile, inwardly berating herself for asking such a stupid question.

God, she hated small-talk.

Joe's smile faded almost instantly as the severity of her amnesia finally seemed to hit him.

She really didn't know him.

Realizing the unintended weight of her words, Alix dropped her gaze to the stiff sheets of her cot, studying each wrinkle instead and hoping that Joe would stop looking at her like that.

Like a kicked puppy.

Her stomach twisted in knots; she hadn't meant to hurt him but she really couldn't remember.

Should she have lied?

For a second, Joe looked conflicted, like a part of him wanted to hold her and the other part wanted to break down.

But instead, he did neither, dropping his cigarette to the ground and grinding it out beneath his heel with vigor.

With a sad smile, he quickly tugged another from his pocket and lit it, hands still quivering slightly but whether from nerves or the chilly autumn air, who could say?

"I'd offer ya one, Ziskeit, but I don't think you're 'sposed to have 'em until you're better."

"I don't care," Alix remarked, only half-joking. "I'd take it if you offered."

Joe shook his head and took a slow drag, leaning away from her for the exhale to ensure she didn't get any smoke in her face.

"Well I ain't offering so you can get that idea outta your head right now, Zees." His tone was affectionate but firm and Alix let out a defeated sigh.

His protectiveness was cute but that didn't mean it wasn't frustrating.

Another few minutes passed uneventfully and Alix found herself studying him again.

His face was thin and a bit pointed with an attractive, almost fox-like cleverness about it.

She got the feeling that in his downtime, he could be amazingly quick-witted, always dancing two steps ahead of every smart remark that came his way.

"Hey, penny for your thoughts, Zees?" Joe gave her shoulder a gentle nudge, his arm quickly brushing hers, leaving a warm trail of tingles behind. "You been awful quiet."

Shit.

Alix felt her stomach drop and in her surprise at being caught staring again, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"You smoke a lot."

Joe chuckled and Alix wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die.

"I'm from Frisco," he responded, his deep brown eyes seeming to sparkle with a mixture of humor and affection in the light.

"We do that."

There's no way they dated, Alix surmised from the warmth in the paratrooper's gaze. There's no way he could still look at her like that if they had.

╔══ • 🖤🖤 • 🖤🖤 • 🖤🖤 • ══╗

6 Years Prior: December 1937. Philadelphia, USA.

"For God's sake, Alix, this is exhausting. You're being ridiculous."

"Oh I'm being ridiculous?!"

The sixteen year old snatched the necklace from her neck and hurled it at her fiancé next to her with such force that the string snapped, sending pearls tinkling sporadically across the driver's side like tiny comets shooting through the air.

"I wasn't the one with my tongue down some other girl's throat, Clay!"

"Look, I already told you, it was a mistake, alright?" The eighteen year old threw up his hands in exasperation. "What more do you want?!"

"Giving me a bracelet with another girl's name engraved on it was a mistake," Alix pushed, her voice quavering.

"Making out with her at our fucking engagement party is not a 'mistake', Clay! It's a choice!"

"I can't believe you're doing this now." Clayton shook his head reproachfully, still keeping his blue-green eyes locked on the road ahead. "We were having such a good night."

"How long has it been going on? With her?

Her chest ached but she needed to know the truth.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb, Clay." Alix's voice sounded hollow even to her and her chest felt like it was filling with ice water, like she was drowning. "The blonde girl. How. Long."

"Since the beginning."

It was an answer so quick but so cruel that for a second, Alix was blindsided. Stunned, she blinked in shock, the breath momentarily knocked out of her, and all she could do was stare helplessly at her fiance, whose face was as cold and expressionless as marble.

"W-What?"

"Since the beginning," he repeated as though she hadn't heard him.

"But why?" the sixteen year old croaked, her voice breaking. "I thought...You said you loved me?"

"And you believed me? Good God," Clayton marveled, reaching over to sling an arm around her shoulders in an almost mocking gesture of affection. "Your father's right. You really are naïve."

"Don't touch me please!" she snapped, the very feeling of his hand on her arm making her want to claw her own skin off.

She began to retreat from him, to turn away, but he seized a mass of her curly black hair in his free hand and yanked her close enough that she could feel his repulsive breath on her skin like a rabid dog's fangs hovering by her ear.

"I'll do what I fucking want," he snarled before releasing her with a shove, sending her right shoulder slamming painfully into the car door with a yelp.

With a huff of irritation, the eighteen year old returned both hands to the steering wheel, ignoring the quivering of the girl in the seat next to him.

There was a frigid quiet in the car, an almost sickening stillness before she broke it, rubbing her sore shoulder warily.

Her voice was small and broken-sounding and through the tears stinging her eyes, she turned to look at him but he ignored her, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel.

She felt like she might choke at the sight, the not-so-distant memory of his hands locked around her throat making it hard to breathe.

"You said you'd never hurt me again," she managed in a voice barely above a whisper but Clayton rolled his eyes again.

"And if you'd stop running your goddamn mouth, I wouldn't have to."

╚══ • 🖤🖤 • 🖤🖤 • 🖤🖤 • ══╝

Contemporary: September 22nd, 1944. Zetten-Andelot, Netherlands.

A gentle tap on her shoulder brought Alix back to the present with a jolt.

Subconsciously, she knew the had been feather-light, more a glancing brush than anything, but it still caused the young spy to flinch away instinctively.

Her head was still buzzing and she remembered the doctor's lecture about stress being bad for her concussion but she couldn't help it: the sick thud of being slammed into the car door and the sharp pain that followed seemed to grow louder and louder, stronger and stronger, becoming a pounding in her ears.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Alix could feel herself beginning to tremble uncontrollably and her eyes began to sting, hot tears spilling over onto her cheeks before she could stop them. With every desperate, frenzied gulp for air, Alix's heart began to pound even faster and a feeling of terror crashed over her, threatening to break her like a wave on a rocky shore.

Run. She was shaking so violently that the whole bedframe seemed to rattle with her in her fear. You need to run.

But with her dislocated ankle, there was nowhere to go. Her head was pounding and her stomach twisted as though she might vomit.

The feeling of Clay yanking on her hair and shoving her into the door played over and over like a film reel in her mind and she gasped for air but there was none to be found.

Her head spinning, she put a hand to her heart, feeling it racing faster and faster, the buzzing in her ears only getting more intense with her rising panic.

Drowning. It felt like drowning.

The burning in her chest intensified as her shallow breaths increased, each ragged sob sending her further and further into a spiral.

Nothing was happening so why did the world feel like it was crashing down around her?

Was she losing her mind?

Joe noticed quicker than she would have liked.

"Hey..." he said softly. "Hey, you're okay, Ziskeit...You're okay..."

Alix let out a pained whimper, bad memories seeming to hit like flashes of lightning as Joe watched helplessly, running an anxious hand through his thick hair.

"What can I do, Zees?" he begged, trying to keep his voice calm despite the strained notes of concern and desperation. "Can I...Can I hold you? Is that okay? Or d'you want me to go? I can...Fuck, I can go, if-."

"Stay," she managed to choke out through her tears, the first sign of vulnerability she'd shown him recently. "Please stay."

That was all Joe needed to hear. Kicking off the floor, he boosted himself further back onto the bed, gingerly guiding her up with him. Drawing her into his arms, he cradled her as though she were made of glass, his hands ghosting over her skin as though she might shatter at any moment.

Her whole body was trembling, her breaths still coming in short gasps, and he drew her still closer, murmuring encouragements in English and what she assumed to be German as he eased her head gently to his chest.

"I'm here, Zees, I got you. I ain't goin' anywhere, I promise. I promise."

Heaving, Alix wrapped her good arm around him, her breathing still erratic as she buried her face in his chest.

"Ikh hob dikh lib, mein libinke. Mein ziskeit." he murmured and for a brief second, her tears seemed to slow.

That word...Zees-kite...It's not in English but for a second, it seems to cut through the terror. It feels familiar, warm, safe.

But within seconds, the panic has overwhelmed her again, smacking her down mercilessly every time she thinks they're through like a stormy sea, sending her crashing against the rocks and she flinched again, painful memories threatening to drag her to the ocean floor once more.

"Hey, hey Zees, come back," he urged her softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, careful to avoid the bandages.

"Your mind's tryna take you someplace else, okay, but don't let it. Come back to me, Ziskeit, I know you can. Stay here. You're safe, Zees, you're safe."

Brushing the flood of tears away, even as still more come running down her cheeks, Alix clung to him like a lifeline, doing her best to focus on the present moment, focus on the warmth of his body, the subtle rasp of his voice, the callouses on his fingers, built up from years of training.

Joe began to trace soothing circles into her back, still murmuring to her, never allowing the panic to go unchallenged for even a second.

"You gotta breathe, dollface. I know it's hard but you gotta try for me, okay? Atta girl. In...and out. In...and out."

Alix sniffled and tried her best to concentrate, focusing on taking one shaky breath in at a time.

"Good," the paratrooper affirmed, lightly stroking her hair as he kept her pressed close to his chest. "You're doin' real good, okay? Just like that: In...and out. That's my girl."

Slowly but surely, Alix began to calm and to his credit, Joe kept his promise: he never left her side.

They stayed locked in their embrace for what felt like hours as the world seemed to turn around them.

The aid station was in a constant state of overflow and it seemed like there was a never-ending stream of patients being rushed in and out by the few medical personnel they had, meaning that no one even batted an eye at the exhausted-looking paratrooper now occupying the same cot in the corner as the spy.

Small mercies, Alix supposed as she finally relaxed enough to drift off to sleep, still tangled with Joe. Small mercies.

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