#stop being bigots before you help the people taking your own rights | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

savemefromanepicoftimewasted · 11 months

Text

Why Does Change Hurt So Much?

Joel Miller X F!Reader Joel wasn't a terrible person, he'd done everything he could to make sure everyone he cared about was safe. Until Ellie finds out the truth, finds out that Joel's never been truthful, until Ellie hates him. A/N:this fic idea had been bothering me for DAYS so I finally took the time to write it, there's no real major warnings besides the D slur as well as Joel talking about his past also also, SPOILERS FOR THE LAST OF US PART II, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED also also also:feedback is HIGHLY appreciated! Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Everything started to change after Ellie had stopped speaking to Joel, even if it was tearing him apart inside that he couldn’t just casually go and talk to her. He’d met you first at the Tipsy Bison, it was an accident and Joel hadn’t stumbled over his words in so long. Your first date was magical and the only person he could talk to about it was his brother. Sure he could’ve talked to Maria about you too but she was dealing with his niece's terrible twos at the moment. He’d fallen in love hard and fast but refused to admit he was the first one to say ‘I love you’. Then came the engagement. Joel downright refused to make a fuss over it because the one person he’d wanted to tell wouldn’t be there. It felt almost wrong to keep living his life after what happened, as if he wasn’t meant to be happy.

The wedding was a simple and quiet affair, only a handful of people were in attendance as the pair of you bound yourselves to one another. You’d looked ethereal before him, a goddess sent down to make sure he didn’t do something stupid. It reminded him of when he’d rescued Ellie from the hospital, he’d knocked the surgeon and nurses out before taking her from the bed. Marlene had been an unfortunate casualty but he downright refused to let them murder her for the sake of something that wouldn't work.

Ellie had gone back for the backpack with the memories of her life before infection, Marlene’s body had slowly decomposed into the ground. The doctor and ‘friends’ must have fled as there was no sign of them when Ellie arrived. She listened to each and every recording, the sick realization that Joel had lied dug so dangerously deep. The only person she’d had any trust for, and he fucking lied! How could he do this to her, it didn’t make any sense for him to lie to her about something so serious. Maybe Maria was right, maybe she truly knew nothing about Joel Miller.

The little tussle with Seth had been almost accidental, you and Joel had been sitting together by the bar, watching Ellie and Dina dance together. You knew the story of what happened and how it came to be that Ellie wanted nothing to do with Joel. It was heartbreaking to hear how much Joel truly cared about the teen. You weren’t going to interfere though, there was nothing more irritating than someone else knowing your business. And then Seth goes and calls Ellie a dyke. Had Joel not thrown himself out of his chair you absolutely would have. You were in a goddamn apocalypse and this bigot was being hateful still?

Of course that didn’t mean Ellie was going to take kindly to Joel trying to defend her. The bar was silent as she hissed the words “I don’t need your fucking help”. Your heart broke at the expression that flickered over his features. Joel had managed to hide how distraught he was for years, but to hear it again that Ellie practically hated him dug the knife a little deeper. He didn’t say anything as he turned to leave, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you flush to his side.

Ellie stared as the two of you left, more confused than hurt in that moment as she suddenly realized she had no idea who you were. Dina called her name softly, it was time to leave and not make anymore scenes. Why did the thought of Joel finding someone bother her so much? He’d made it quite known that he was perfectly happy on his own.

“Ellie, why don’t we leave and talk about this somewhere else?” Dina seemed a little more desperate now, everyone was staring at the pair.

“Yeah, let’s go” Ellie laced their fingers together, walking briskly out of the bar before anyone else could utter their own hatred.

Joel’s hands were shaking as he tried, and struggled, to pour the ground coffee into the press. Tommy had managed to find not only a french press, but also six bags of ground coffee during their last run. It was the only thing, besides you of course, that seemed to help manage his anxiety. Ironic isn’t it?

“Joel, you have to understand where she’s coming from, she was told that she was going to ‘change the world’ and do bigger and better things,” You never faulted Joel for his decision, but you could understand why Ellie was angry with him.

“I should’ve just told her the truth from the start, maybe she wouldn’t hate me as much,” Joel hadn’t regretted letting the doctor live, the man was just doing what he was told.

“I think she would’ve been upset no matter what, she’s still a kid,” You watched and waited as Joel finished scooping the coffee in, pouring over the hot water to let it steep.

The air in the kitchen seemed to almost thicken as you both waited for the conversation to continue. It was never easy watching Joel slip further into this depression, nor was it easy watching the way Ellie became more hostile. It was subtle at first, Joel would be in bed for an extra twenty minutes whereas before he’d be up before the sun was even out. Ellie would snap on people much quicker, blaming it on a multitude of things instead of addressing the issue. Joel frowned as he pushed the plunger down slowly, making sure it was level with the bottom before pouring himself a cup.

Before you could say anything else a knock at the door caught both your and Joel’s attention. It could be one of three people. Tommy, to see what happened at the bar, Seth to apologize, or Ellie. You weren’t sure who you were hoping was on the other side of the door, you were hoping for a brief second that it was Tommy. Joel opened the door slower than normal, brow furrowing as he stared down at Ellie.

“Hey, is it okay if we talk outside?” She glanced over to where you were sitting, her eyes widened with a million different emotions before they locked back on Joel.

“Sure let’s go,” Joel looked back at you for a brief second, nodding his head before stepping out onto the porch with Ellie.

The door shut with an almost silent click, normally Joel preferred something that made a little more noise as he’d lost his hearing almost entirely on the right side now. He only had himself to blame of course, shooting infected with a rifle wasn’t always the smartest idea. That wasn’t why they were here though, and Joel was terrified of what was going to happen.

“Why did you do it?” Ellie hadn’t even given him a moment to sip his coffee, which at the moment was keeping him grounded.

“I couldn’t let them kill you for something that had a one percent chance of working,” Joel stared down at the steaming mug, a frown pulling at his lips.

“It wasn’t your choice to make, Joel, and you know that. You took away the only thing that mattered most to me,” Ellie had been furious, the anger burning like a wildfire inside of her for so long.

Joel didn’t say anything, instead bringing the mug to his lips and letting the liquid soothe his throat. He wouldn’t admit to absolutely anyone, but he’d fallen to his knees once you and him were alone after the incident at the bar. He’d cried until his throat felt raw and torn, gripped the fabric of your shirt until his knuckles turned white. Joel had blamed himself for years, for all the lies he told to make sure Ellie never found out the truth. He had promised himself he would tell her that he had taken away her choice because he was selfish. But then she’d found out, and she’d hated him even more than he could ever hate himself.

“If I could relive that day, I would do it all over again,” Joel had lost too many people in his life, he’d nearly lost you a few times and he couldn’t talk to anyone about it.

Ellie’s shoulders slumped forward, head hanging down as she struggled to take in his words. They had been a team, never keeping secrets when it mattered most, but right now there was still that wall between the two of them. Snow had started to fall from the sky, albeit slowly and drifting away from them it seemed.

“I killed a lot of people that day, and I’m not proud to admit that, but I wasn’t going to let them kill an innocent child for something that would not work,” Joel stood up straight, or as straight as his back would let him at the moment.

“I’ll never ask for your forgiveness, lord knows I don’t deserve it, but you deserved more than a fantasy built on lies told by the people who claimed to care about you,” Joel finished off the coffee, grimacing at how cold it had become.

Ellie stood there silently, mulling over everything Joel had said to her. She’d only seen Marlene’s side of everything, the way she spoke about the vaccine as if it was a miracle cure. Even if it didn’t work, if it was all just a pipe dream that was made up by a bunch of morons, Joel took that from her.

“I knew your mother, very briefly, but I don’t think she would’ve wanted her only daughter to be murdered for the same thing that killed her,” Wait, what did he just say?

“You knew my mother?” Ellie’s voice was soft, shock coursing through her like a bolt of lightning.

“Like I said, I knew her very briefly, she was already six months pregnant by the time we met. Tommy had joined the fireflies already when we ran into one another, she was a total spitfire that took shit from no one. I can see where you get it from,” Joel reached down to set the mug on the table behind him.

No one had ever told Ellie about her mother, and one of the only people who even knew her mother was dead and gone. She’d always wondered what her mother was like, was she kind and smart? Or was she as much of an asshole that Ellie had made herself out to be?

“Tommy knows more than I do about her if you’re ever curious, but yeah, your mother died making sure that you were safe and sound, I don’t think she would’ve appreciated what Marlene tried to do,” Looking over at Joel reminded Ellie of exactly why they were in this situation.

The lies had built up for two years before she finally confronted him, angry that something so serious had been kept from her. Joel didn’t lie after that, he told her everything she wanted to hear and accepted when she cut him off. He was thankful for it in a sense, if Ellie hadn’t stopped speaking to him he would’ve never found the courage to talk to you.

“You got married, and you didn’t tell me,” The hurt was precedent in Ellie’s tone, though she felt stupid for being upset.

“You weren’t talking to me, and Tommy didn’t think it was his place to tell you I’d found someone to spend the rest of my life with,” Joel loved you more than anything, even if the two of you found out neither of you could have any kids it was fine.

Joel had already been a father, he’d lost one daughter the day the apocalypse started, and lost the second due to his own actions. Another child would just complicate things further for him, he’d be more worried during patrols wondering if you and the kids were okay at home. You’d been more worried about Joel’s reaction to hearing that you couldn’t have children than actually hearing it. You had accepted that you wouldn’t be a parent, especially once the world went to shit and all your friends and family were dead.

“She knows the truth, I ended up spilling my guts one night after drinking half a bottle of whiskey, gotta say she’s a much better person than I will ever be,” Joel wasn’t dumb, he’d done horrible shit in his life and would spend the rest of it atoning for it.

“She knows I got bit?” Ellie clenched her hands into fists, the tattoo that covered the skin was a much more pleasant sight, but it still hurt to know a stranger knew her entire life.

“I told her about everything, from when Sarah was a baby, to coming back to Jackson. I’m not going to keep secrets from my wife Ellie,” Joel’s anger wasn’t something that built slowly, he would be the first to admit how hot headed he was.

Ellie opened and closed her mouth a few times, what could she possibly say to that without sounding hypocritical. She was the one to cut Joel out of her life entirely, he wasn’t going to go skipping to her house to announce that he’d gotten married. But her life wasn’t something for him to tell.

“I didn’t tell her about Riley, or Cat, or hell even Dina. I told her about how Marlene begged us to take you to the hospital, how we lost Tess, Bill, Frank, Henry and Sam along the way. I didn’t tell her about David, or the way I tortured three men to try and find you. How I killed fifteen men to get to you, the surgeon is lucky I didn’t kill him,” Joel scoffed lowly, running his tongue over his teeth as the taste of coffee lingered.

“You didn’t tell her about all of that?” Maybe she should’ve been screaming at him, that he had still spewed too many secrets that weren’t his.

“No, she knows the bare minimum about you,” Joel’s hands had started to shake again, though he was more sure that it had to do with the cold rather than anything.

Ellie wanted to know everything about you, where you’d grown up, how old were you before the apocalypse happened, how did you manage to tie down Joel Miller. Her thoughts strayed back to Dina, what would she make of the situation when they got to talk again?

“Joel?” Your voice was quiet, a cardigan wrapped tight to keep off the winter chill that was trying to seep itself into your bones.

“Go back inside hun, I’ll be in in a few minutes,” Joel reached over, cupping your cheek with a cold palm.

“Make sure you stay warm, don’t need you getting sick,” You smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm before glancing over at Ellie.

“I will, scouts honor,” Joel’s eyes crinkled as he smiled at you.

To anyone that witnessed the moment it was obvious how in love you were, Joel’s eyes sparkled with love and affection. Ellie looked away, feeling as if she was intruding on a personal moment between the two of you. It wasn’t until she’d heard the door shut once more that she lifted her head, looking back over at the older man.

“Look, if you’re here to get mad at me some more about the past, just go home and get some sleep, you’re taking over for Tommy and I tomorrow for the afternoon shift,” Joel grabbed the mug off the table, ready to go inside and lick his wounds in private.

Ellie didn’t say another word, watching as Joel stepped inside his house and shut the door with a deafening click. It felt as if they had sealed their fate, they would never be able to truly move past the issues at hand. Joel had admitted fault, had told Ellie that he knew what he did was wrong, but he couldn’t lose someone else. Ellie couldn’t see it that way, she wanted to truly hate Joel for what he’d done. Maybe she’d ask Tommy about her mother, learn everything about her that she could. Maybe, just maybe, she could learn to forgive Joel.

Joel stared down at the single mug sitting in the sink, he wanted to go outside and talk to Ellie for just a few more minutes, but this wasn’t something he could fix on his own. He’d joked about seeing a therapist, knowing that there were a few living in Jackson he could talk to. He’d have to leave out key information though, and that didn’t feel right with him if he was going to spill his emotions.

“Joel, let’s go to bed,” You wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his back.

“You think she’ll ever forgive me?” Joel never got his hopes up, it was too dangerous to hope for a positive outcome.

“I think she needs time to figure out who she is as a person on her own, she needs to find her identity before she starts to accept people in her life,” It was something you’d thought about for a while, being married almost two years, having met right after Ellie stopped speaking to him.

You knew Joel wanted Ellie by his side but he needed to punish himself for what he’d done, for his actions having consequences that caused this to snowball. You were surprised to hear he’d let the doctor live, knowing how dangerous that could have been considering the circumstances. You’d mulled over the story yourself multiple times, coming to the same conclusion after deliberating. Had you been in Joel’s shoes, you would have saved Ellie as well, keeping her safe in such a toxic world.

“I wish she could’ve met Sarah, they would’ve got on like a house on fire,” It was something Joel had mentioned a few times, of course Sarah would’ve been in her 30’s had that night not happened.

“I think you seem to forget that Ellie is still a kid, Sarah would’ve been an adult with possibly children of her own,” You patted Joel’s stomach playfully, pulling your arms away to head on up to bed.

Joel refused to let his mind wander, to think about what would’ve happened if Sarah had lived. He wouldn’t have been here with you, Ellie would’ve died for nothing, and his brother would’ve still left, it didn’t seem worth it. Turning off all the lights downstairs Joel made his way up to where you were. Grabbing his pajamas to change out of the heavy clothes that kept out the normal winter chill. You’d started stealing Joels’ shirts to sleep in only a few months after you had gotten together. Joel of course encouraged it and even snuck a few of his own shirts into your drawers.

“Do you think I’m a bad dad?” The question caught you off guard, it wasn’t something he’d ever asked before.

“Absolutely not, and I swear if you start blaming yourself for stuff that was out of your control I’m going to grab my slipper and beat you with it,” You pulled off your jeans, shrugging on one of Joel’s shirts and a pair of sweatpants.

“Yes ma’am,” Joel chuckled, pulling on his shirt before turning to face you.

He wasn’t surprised to see that you’d already crawled into bed, blanket pulled up nearly over your head as you stared back at him. Domesticity felt good, a comforting weight he hadn’t felt since he arrived back in Jackson all those years ago.

“You sounded like a wonderful dad, Joel, Sarah was a very lucky girl to have you as her father,” It needed to be a reminder that Joel was a good person who’d had to do bad things to survive.

There was no right and wrong in the world anymore, some people killed to survive, and some people survived to kill. You’d had your fair share of run-ins with the wrong type of people before, didn’t make it any easier. Things were different in Jackson though, you didn’t have to worry about where your next meal would come from. Raiders were killed before they could make it past the walls. It was a comforting change of pace compared to how horrible the world was otherwise.

You had slipped into a dreamless sleep, curled tight around Joel’s body as the two of you slept the night away. Joel was thankful he woke up before his alarm went off, wanting to make sure he hadn’t disturbed you at all. He got dressed silently and pressed a gentle kiss to your head before heading out on patrol. Just a few houses away Ellie was deep in her own dreamland, a nightmare wracking her body as she tried to save Joel from a pack of clickers. Her screams were deafened by the agonizing screeches they let out. He was going to die before Ellie could forgive him, before they could try and rebuild the bond they had before.

“No!” Ellie nearly threw herself off the bed, grabbing onto the mattress before her body could leave the plush comfort.

It was a bad dream, nothing bad happened and she was still safe inside of Jackson. Maybe she should’ve talked with Joel a little more, and taken the time to discuss things instead of getting angry. After patrol, that’s what she would do is corner Joel so they could discuss everything.

Jesse had called Ellie out on her shit the moment he went to get her, joking that she was trying to steal his ex Dina right out under his nose. It was all in good fun as the trio went out onto patrol, Ellie and Dina breaking off to look through a large abandoned building. It reminded Ellie of the nightmare, listening to Joel’s terrified screams as he tried to escape. Shit, this was not going to be a fun day.

“We can head out a little earlier if you want, make sure Joel and Tommy are good for the swap so they can head home?” Dina could sense that Ellie was faraway, gaze locked onto the nothingness that sat in front of them.

“Yeah, I gotta talk to him tonight, maybe his wife too,” Ellie hopped onto Shimmer, grabbing the reins to make sure she wouldn’t startle when Dina hopped on the back

The ride over was stressful, the snow whipping around them harshly as Ellie tried to remember the route from memory. They had to change it recently due to a tree being knocked down during a whiteout. Shit, were they supposed to go left at the crossroads instead of right? No time to think about that, need to get to the next checkpoint. Luckily Ellie could just barely make out the hotel, hopefully Joel and Tommy were still inside.

“Shit, Jesse’s here too,” Dina’s voice was muffled against the wind, but Ellie heard her clear as day.

Why did one of the people she didn’t want to confront have to be here too? It was going to be hard enough dealing with Joel, let alone Jesse and Tommy. Ellie ducked her head as they made it into the lobby, Shimmer stopping beside the other three horses.

“No, that’s absolutely not happening, you have to find someone else,” Who was Joel yelling at? Or better yet, why was he yelling?

“Joel, we need a group to go there, you’re one of the best leaders we’ve had in years,” Shit, this didn’t sound good.

Ellie slipped off the horse slowly, tiptoeing to where the other three were hanging out. Tommy had his hands on his hips, staring at Joel exasperatedly. From the sounds of it they were sending out a group, and not a small one at that, to get supplies from somewhere. Dina pressed herself against Ellie, trying to make the pair more invisible.

“Tommy I have someone at home that will worry herself the entire time, I’ve basically lost my hearing entirely on the right side of my head, you think it’s smart to send me out there again?” Joel wasn’t willing to risk his life anymore, not after you came into the picture.

For the first few months after he and Ellie had stopped speaking Joel was reckless, he’d nearly gotten himself killed a handful of times and had his ass handed to him by Tommy just as much. Joel had prided himself on being a protector, and with nothing else to protect he didn’t see the point in trying anymore. Then you came along and Joel didn’t want to assume things were perfectly fine, he had a lot of trauma and shit to work through.

“This’ll be the last run, we just need to get these medical supplies, please,” Tommy wasn’t above groveling, not when it mattered most.

“Tommy I-” Joel was about to rebut, neither of them were fit enough to go on such a long journey before Ellie and Dina burst into the room, effectively cutting him off.

“Let us go, we’ll be able to handle the journey a lot better,” That sounded a lot better in her head, but damnit right now wasn’t the time.

Joel’s face morphed into something that Ellie hadn’t seen in years, there was a deep anger in the color of his eyes, something she couldn’t escape. Why did he look so angry that she offered to go in place of him? Or was there something else she wasn’t aware of, something she was supposed to do and never got the chance to.

“You’re gonna need a bigger group than four people, at least 8 if you’re going to get all the supplies you need,” Joel didn’t look away from Ellie as he said it, she wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or Tommy.

“Joel, c’mon it’d be smarter to send people that can handle this type of journey if you can’t,” Oh, that was definitely the wrong thing to say to him.

Jesse prepared himself for the onslaught of anger that Tommy was about to be on the receiving end of. No one ever doubted Joel could handle anything you threw at him, so to have Tommy insinuating that Joel couldn’t? It was hearsay.

“You know what? I’ll go by myself, I have the bags on the horse already,” Joel stormed off, the sound of his boots echoing inside the empty hotel.

Tommy wanted to go after him, to tell him to stop being a dumbass and just listen to some reason for once in his life, but by the time Tommy reached the bottom of the stairs Joel was gone.

“Shit, I’m gonna have to tell his wife he’s headed off to get medical supplies on his own, shit,” Now Tommy Miller wasn’t afraid of much besides his brother's temper, when his wife was upset, and the lovely woman his brother married.

He’d only ever had to give her bad news once before, and lord did Tommy never want to go back and relive that moment ever again. That woman could be downright terrifying when she was pissed off, and this would set her off the deep end.

“If we head out now, we could catch up with Joel and make sure nothing bad happens,” It was a long shot, but right now Ellie was worried Joel would end up dead.

“All three of you go, we’ll make sure someone’s watching the gate even more for when you get back,” Sure the trip would be long and strenuous, but Ellie needed to keep Joel safe.

He’d do it for her.

◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥

Joel had been downright furious that Ellie had followed him on Tommy’s orders. He refused to speak to anyone for the first few days, sitting away by himself as everyone slept. Dina didn’t bother to try and start a conversation, she knew it was useless. Jesse filled the void with random facts that he’d found out over the years, it was nice. They only ran into a couple infected which were taken out quickly. Joel’s mind kept reverting back to you, would you be angry with him when he finally got home? Or would you shower him with love and praise at all the medicine and supplies he’d gathered.

“So we’re gonna gather everything we can carry and bring it back to Jackson,” Joel had ripped the list into three pieces, handing one to Jesse, and one to Dina.

“If you run into any raiders or infected, keep quiet and try to take them out without raising suspicion.

The trio nodded, waiting for further instructions on what to do before everyone went off to find what they needed. Joel simply stood there waiting for confirmation that they were ready to go. Dina’s eyes widened as she watched his jaw tighten, a scowl pulling across his face. Shit, the ride back was going to be even worse than the ride here.

“Ellie and I will check the basement, it would be better to have two people down there instead of one,” Dina grabbed her gas mask just in case, never knew where you’d run into spores.

Jesse headed off to the upper floors while Joel went off into the infirmary that was located on the base floor. Ellie and Dina were nearly silent as they scoured the area, grabbing anything that would be useful and stuffing their bags full of medicine. There was a lot more than she’d been expecting which was a nice surprise but something felt off.

“Is it just me, or does this place feel a little weird?” Ellie was trying to carefully place the glass vials in the bottom of her bag, making sure they didn’t break on the transport.

“No, it definitely feels a little weird, why would people leave this much medicine laying around?” Dina had been stuffing her own bag with gauze, scalpels(wrapped in fabric to prevent damage)and bandages.

“Yeah, let’s just fill the bags and get back to Joel and Jesse so we can leave,” Ellie slung her bag over her shoulders, making sure the straps were good before heading out of the basement.

The main floor was silent, not even the breeze blowing by outside could be heard inside of the building. This was even more nerve wracking than dealing with an almost pitch black basement while scouring. Jesse was the first to come down, bag protruding almost comically from his back with everything he’d found.

“Hey, you guys manage to get some stuff?” Jesse had gotten a little nervous when he thought he’d run into a clicker, but thankfully it was a dead one.

“Yeah, a lot of stuff in the basement surprisingly,” Dina glanced around the space, eyes landing on the door that Joel had gone through.

It was shut tight, which confused her for a moment before she started to rattle off the reasons he might have shut it. Being around Ellie was clearly bothering him, so maybe he was taking a few minutes to compose himself before coming back out? That seemed the most logical, Joel could handle a few infected if it came down to it.

“Hey, should we make sure Joel’s alright? It’s been a while and we need to get back on the road before nightfall,” Jesse’s worry started to sink in, Joel was always the first to come back during a scour.

“Let’s go,” Ellie didn’t wait for the other two, running towards the door that stood between her and Joel.

She stopped before her body could slam into the dense wood, turning the handle slowly to make sure it didn’t startle Joel, or whoever else could be in that room. She’d half expected to see Joel mulling over different items, questioning what would be best to take back. What she hadn’t been expecting was to see Joel sprawled against the other side of the room, hand pressed against his stomach. Shit, the last time this happened was because a raider had caught them trying to escape.

“Shit!” Ellie ran into the room, throwing herself beside Joel as he tried, and failed, to stop the bleeding.

Jesse and Dina threw open their bags, pulling out supplies to help Joel before he could lose anymore blood. His skin was clammy, sweat dripping down his face as Dina began to thread a needle. Jesse had gotten the bleeding to stop with a few gauze pads, pushing passed Ellie to get to Joel’s wound.

“Unfortunately I don’t think there was anything to numb this, so I’ll be as quick as I can,” Dina couldn’t help but notice another scar directly next to the fresh wound, they looked so similar.

“‘S fine,” Joel’s words slurred, his breathing labored as Dina began to stitch the wound.

Shit, his wife was definitely going to kill Ellie the moment they got back home and realized that Joel had gotten hurt on their watch.

“Stay with him, I’m gonna bring the horses around,” Ellie pushed off of the floor, running out of the room to get back where all the horses were tied together.

Except something caught her eye before she could grab the reins, someone was watching her from afar. Ellie glanced over at the stranger, the way their shoulders were pulled back as if in a fighting stance, a long braid trailing down their back. Was this the person that stabbed Joel? Another person ran over to the girl across the room, though this person was shorter with a buzzed head. They took off when Ellie grabbed Shimmer's reins, kicking up a small amount of dust as they did. Have to get Joel, that’s the main priority.

“Shit! Ellie!” Dina was frantic, trying to stop Joel from slipping into unconsciousness.

The sound of the horses was loud, any infected or raider would hear them in a heartbeat with the amount of noise they were making. Once outside the room Ellie tied them to the door handle and ran inside.

“What’s going on?” Ellie was terrified, this couldn’t be happening.

“The stitches ended up popping, I can’t stop the bleeding,” Shit!

Ellie reached into her bag for her switchblade, it had kept her alive for this long it would keep Joel alive for a little bit longer. Jesse had gauze pressed against the wound, keeping a solid pressure to help the wound at least slow in bleeding. This was either going to work, or send Joel into shock and give the poor man a heart attack.

Flicking open the lighter she’d stolen from Tommy all those months ago she held the flame underneath the blade. Endure and survive, the words from her favorite comic were on repeat in her mind as she waited for the blade to be hot enough to cauterize the wound.

“I’m so sorry Joel,” Ellie winced as she pulled back the gauze, the wound had stopped bleeding but the pain he was about to endure would be catastrophic.

She pressed the blade against his skin, listening to the way it sizzled and bubbled slightly. The smell of burnt flesh permeated the air before Joel’s scream echoed around them. His heart was racing, pulse jumping as the pain coursed through his body. This was how he was going to die, thousands of miles away from the love of his life, unable to tell her he loves her once more.

“Try and stay awake, please, we need to get back on the horses and get home,” It would be a longer ride back home with Joel's condition.

Dina and Jesse ran to get everything on the horses so that their only worry was getting Joel ready to go.

“Just go, please,” Joel hadn’t felt pain this horrific since the last time he’d been stabbed with a bat.

“I’m not fucking leaving you Joel,” Ellie was pissed at both herself, and at Joel.

There was no way she was going to leave him here to die, not when they had so many things to sit down and discuss. Could she possibly look you in the eye and say that Joel had died under her watch?

“Ellie, we’ve got the horses ready to go, Jesse’s going to ride with Joel and make sure that he’s okay the ride home,” Jesse, of course he’d be the one to do what Ellie couldn’t.

“We have to move him slowly, we go too fast and it’ll all be over,” Ellie couldn’t stop staring at the wound, the way the blood had started drying on his skin.

Dina restitched the wound once more for good measure, cleaning up the excess blood to try and prevent an infection from starting. Their biggest hurdle was getting Joel onto the horse without causing him anymore pain. Jesse made sure he was comfortable before they headed on their journey back home.

Ellie wasn’t sure if she was more thankful there weren't any infected or raiders on the way back, sleeping huddled together to stay safe. Joel was silent the entire time, hands clutching the saddle as they trotted along. A trip that had taken them five days previously, took nearly three weeks. Ellie’s heart broke watching the way Joel would cling to the hope that he’d see his wife again before realizing how far away they still were.

Tommy had been by the gates when they arrived, screaming at everyone to open the doors and let everyone inside. Ellie could see you pacing back and forth, your eyes full of worry as you waited for them to get inside. This was definitely putting Ellie in your shit list for sure, she couldn’t even manage to keep Joel safe during such a normal supply run.

“We’re gonna need a medic!” Tommy’s voice carried above everyone’s alerting the right people to try and get Joel the help he needed.

He’d gotten paler the longer they rode, hands shaking and weak as he forced himself to keep holding on. Just a few minutes more and he’d be back in bed with you, in the house he’d been able to call home.

“Joel!” You had started crying immediately, running over to where he was standing with Tommy.

The front of his jacket was covered in old blood, it was unfortunate because Joel really did like that jacket, it kept him warm.

“Hi baby girl, sorry I was gone for so long,” Joel pressed a weak kiss to your cheek, frowning when he noticed you’d been crying.

“Joel, I’ve been so worried,” You cupped his face in your hands, noticing how sullen his face was, how sallow his skin looked.

“Just had a little incident, nothing to be worried over,” Joel wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest.

One of the doctors that worked in Jackson came to get Joel and bring him to the infirmary to make sure everything looked good and clean up anything that needed it. You refused to leave his side, hand clutching him. Ellie, along with Dina and Jesse, took all of their findings to the infirmary while avoiding Joel and you as best they could. Ellie wasn’t sure how much Joel remembered of the incident, or if he’d even tell you the truth.

“I have to admit I’m surprised, you guys made out with enough supplies to last us a few years,” People in Jackson were usually more careful about everything they did. Just because you live in paradise, doesn’t mean everything is back to normal.

“We gathered as much as we could there’s still a lot more,” It would be stupid to send them back without more backup, especially if she ran into that girl again.

“I’ll talk to Tommy about sending a different group out, if we can clean the place out we’ll be good for at least a decade or two,” It was risky, but the thought of not having to worry about sickness was nice.

Dina and Jesse bid a quick goodbye before heading to their homes, ready to wash off the last few weeks and get a good night's sleep. Ellie couldn’t move her legs, no matter how much her mind was screaming at her. She could see Joel in the hospital bed, eyes closed as he slept off whatever drugs they had given him. You were watching him, tears sliding down your cheeks as you started to accept that Joel would be okay.

“It’s my fault,” You flinched and threw yourself away from Joel.

“What?” Your brain was still fuzzy, the tears cold on your face.

“Joel got stabbed because of me, he originally didn’t want to go and get the supplies because he was worried about you. I had said that I would go in his place but he left before any of us could stop him. I’m so sorry,” Ellie couldn’t stop the way her bottom lip quivered, the tears that pooled in her eyes.

“Oh sweetheart,” You walked over to where she stood, wrapping your arms around her in a comforting embrace.

Ellie wasn’t sure what emotions were running through her, but she knew that no one had ever hugged her this way except for Joel. Her arms moved slower than the rest of her body, wrapping around your middle and squeezing. You wanted to tell her that everything would be fine, that Joel was stable and the wound was cleaned up. Before you could utter a single word you felt tears soak into the front of your shirt.

“Oh, Ellie, it’s okay baby girl,” That caused the teen to cry harder, gripping onto your shirt as the two of you stood in the middle of the room.

“I just wanted to tell him I was sorry, I thought I was too late,” Her voice was cracking on every other word, emotions getting the better of her.

“You can tell him when he’s back home in a few days, he’s gonna need some time to rest and recuperate,” You could tell from the wound that Ellie had been the one to save his life, she shouldn’t blame herself.

No words were spoken as you comforted the young teen, she needed to see that Joel was truly okay first and foremost. The doctors had made sure there was no infection before dressing the wound, and right now he was knocked out.

“I’ll come and get you personally when Joel’s back home, okay?” You pulled back from the embrace, cupping Ellie’s cheeks gently so that she could pull away if need be.

She simply nodded, eyes still shining with tears as she stared at you. Maybe it was her own way of coping but right now all she wanted to do was cuddle up in bed with a stuffed bear. You smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead before letting her run off. Joel was still asleep, snoring slightly as the medicine worked its magic on his stomach. You’d make sure that Ellie could say her apologies to Joel, maybe rebuild their relationship.

For now, you were going to sit by his side and read, it was going to be a while before Joel could go back home.

160 notes · View notes

floofe-trans-doggie · 7 months

Text

I think a lot of you need to hear this. It's never correct to be mean online.

Obviously there's a lot of people who are assholes just because they can get away with it online and who don't care if everyone immediately recognizes that they're being assholes because it just doesn't matter to them, but I'm referring to people who wait for someone to say something socially unacceptable or 'problematic' and immediately get really aggressive and rude with them because suddenly it's okay and they have the moral high ground. Sometimes the person they're being mean to is genuinely an awful bigot who no, you probably shouldn't feel sorry for, but a lot of the time it's a well-meaning person who just misspoke or doesn't know why something is wrong.

If someone just misspeaks or they don't know any better, being mean to them is going to make them resent anyone who holds your beliefs because they're just going to think about you being really dickish to them about a misunderstanding. That makes it very easy for right-wingers to recruit them. Politely explaining why they shouldn't say that or asking if that was what they meant is a much better option, and the block button is always there if you don't want to deal with them.

If someone is being a toxic asshole for the sake of being a toxic asshole, being mean back is just 'feeding the trolls' as they say. Block them and report them where possible/necessary. Engaging with them isn't going to help things.

If someone is a genuine bigot or says/does something really fucked up, being mean to them is only going to reaffirm their beliefs because look, the other side is being mean!

When you engage someone online, ask yourself what your goal is in this engagement. If your goal is just to win an argument for your own satisfaction or to get a bunch of attention for your roast, that's not a good place to engage. If your goal is to attempt to dispute them and try to change their mind (your mileage may vary regardless of your approach), then being mean is just going to make them resent you and not want to listen to you. If your goal is to warn people about them (such as in a callout post), doing so publicly may just give them more attention and a platform. If you really feel they're a danger to others and reporting them won't help, do so in a calm manner and avoid making jabs at them as well as explaining why you're making the post, because being mean in it makes it easier for them to claim they're being harassed (which frankly may not be entirely incorrect.)

That's not to say there isn't a time or a place for being aggressive or making fun of someone who's being a genuinely awful person. Hbomberguy's famous "Sell their homes to who, Ben, fucking Aquaman?" clip did a good job of pointing out a fatal flaw in Ben Shapiro's argument and made a lot of people stop taking him seriously, which is great. Punching Nazis tends to work, judging by the asshat who got punched in a viral video and lost much of his platform following. But chances are you aren't going to get that effect by making a mean-spirited tweet that just brings someone to more peoples' attention online.

I know this is a long ass post and a frankly rather toxic online culture has made talking about 'being mean' be viewed as 'cringey' or whatever negative word of the day 4chan has cooked up, but just think before you come after someone online. The block button is right there, and always works for keeping them back. When one guy is yelling at you, they're always quite blatantly the asshole. When two guys are yelling at each other, they both look like asses.

Thanks for reading all this, and I hope you have a nice day.

3 notes · View notes

chaoticrobotics · 2 years

Note

What are some of the animatronic's pet peeves?

Freddy: There's not much that gets me annoyed or angry, at least not enough to call it a pet peeve. I do get annoyed with the way Monty and Roxy act at times. And there are times that staff are just outright hurtful to us. But nothing I can think of that really annoys me. I guess just being rude or mean without any reason is one.

_____________

Chica: I HATE it when things aren't properly sealed! Like pickle jars or seasoning lids, it's so annoying! One time I got in trouble because someone didn't tighten a jar and so I grabbed it, trying to be helpful, and the lid came off and the jar shattered on the floor! How was I supposed to know it was open!? Who leaves a jar in the fridge unopened!? Especially a glass one!

_____________

Roxy: People commenting on shit that's none of their business. Like some of you people trying to get me to talk about my love life, or telling me crap about Foxy that I didn't ask for. Have some decency and at least ASK before shoving your advice down my throat! ....That and getting my hair wet. It takes a lot of time to get it to dry and styled, so I try not to get it wet without some kind of mental preparation.

_____________

Monty: Oh fuck, do you want a list or something? I get really annoyed with a lot of shit. People just stopping in front of me when trying to get to Monty Golf or the main stage. Kids screaming in my ear, and not like just kids screaming, I know they do that, but me holding a kid for a special picture and they just scream in my ear. Staff not respecting our own decisions, plans or whatever we are doing. Freddy. Getting my glasses taken from me. My tail getting caught in doors, especially when it's because of someone not MOVING OUT OF THE DAMN WAY IN TIME! Ugh! There's more but like, come on! If you see a six foot alligator coming your way, just MOVE!

_____________

Sun: I can't stand people who don't follow the rules! Especially ones about safety! Those rules are there to keep you safe, so follow them! Also parents who just leave their kids here without acknowledging us, ESPECIALLY first time drop-off where they need to sign things before just letting their children go.

Moon: "Oh those types of parents are very annoying. I hate unnecessary messes. Or people purposefully making a mess just to annoy us. Then there's not getting my full time out, or the lights coming on when I am patrolling the Pizzaplex. It's even worse if you are asleep and now we both need to work overtime to figure out what to do next."

Sun: Ooooh yeah! You're right! Being forced out while asleep is so annoying!

_____________

DJMM: I don't get annoyed or angry too often. I would say that the worst thing for me would probably be bigots. I hear plenty that is going on, and there have been quite a few hurtful comments I've heard be tossed around about the animatronics or other people. It's even worse when I hear people make fun of minorities or disabled guests. I get security to escort them out of my arcade when I can, but most of the time I can't do much considering I cannot see who said what....

_____________

Mapbot: Not taking a map when one does not have one in their possession.

#questionnaire #glamrock monty #glamrock chica #glamrock freddy #glamrock roxanne #djmm #sundrop #moondrop #mapbot #asks #my mind is blanking for many of these asks #that i have yet to answer #mostly because they ask for EVERYONE #and i can't always think of something for everyone

21 notes · View notes

secretgamergirl · 1 year

Text

The Entire Plot of Final Fantasy 14, with all the expansions, and some serious analysis of how good it actually is. (Part 4 - Post-Heavensward)

At this point my schedule for posting these is mainly limited by how rare the windows are where Tumblr will let me hit the “new post” button. Hopefully the congestion clears up soon.

Last time, we got through the end of Heavensward. A story about awful fantasy-catholic blueblooded aristocrats letting their own people starve to death while pursing a genocidal war against some real chill dragons that technically has you helping the terrible people for most of it, but at least you get to kill the pope. Which of course means now Ishgard is going to stop being a horrible place full of terrible bigots, right?

Post-Heavensward

Oh no of course not! The main structural thread of this interim of free patch content is you having to babysit this uneasy peace you mostly established and make sure none of these terrible people mess it up. Or, you know, the big dragon who was the primary aggressor in this thousands-of-years-long war who went ahead and possessed the guy who killed him because for real Estinien what did you think was going to happen when you held both eyes at the same time? Honestly.

There’s a whole bit with someone commissioning a giant version of this mural from Ysayle’s little underground dragon church of the original actual Shiva and Hraesvelgr falling in love to hang outside the gates of the city which I swear is all framed perfectly for all kinds of video edit jokes, possessed Estinein flying in and really starting crap. At one point while having kind of a party someone slips something into the protagonist’s drink before getting a riot started and hey, Warrior of Light, this is the second time that’s happened, maybe lay off wine in the future. Church loyalists don’t like that you killed the pope and exposed their whole everything as a lie, some people still hate dragons, someone tries to assassinate Aymeric, things get pretty damn awful and it largely comes to a head with some jerk flinging a small child off her roof who only survives because one of your chillest of dragon pals just happened to be heading over to maybe have a chat. Ends up being a real good PR moment for team dragon when she catches the kid.

As is usual with this stuff there’s a lot of plot threads running in parallel as we had episodic updates when this first all came out, but this particular topic doesn’t stretch on too much longer, culminating of course with possessed Estinein who has the eyes fused to his armor looking kinda like Nightmare from Soul Calibur and when you fight him he’s flipping between this and a full on dragon form.

Hraesvelgr shows up to help with this mess because seriously, Hraesvelgr is a solid pal. We get some dragon on dragon fighting that doesn’t go super well for the big H, but turns out that’s because his ace in the hole is letting you borrow his eye that was already out and loose and all. So you have your big satisfying one on one (well, 8 on 1, but the plot always pretends those other party members don’t exist) boss fight, then you and Alphinaud tackle him so you can just pry those freaking eyes off his armor and toss them into the massive imposing ravine you’re fighting over. They’re stuck in there pretty good though, and the only way you get them out is with the help of the ghost of Ysayle showing up. Whole band’s back together! Hauchefant’s ghost is here helping too, but I’m sorry, he just did not leave the impression on me the writers figured he would.

Estinein is fine, of course. Again, he’s all tied in with the Dragoon job quests. In fact, when you’re stuck in the boss arena with him in dragon form waiting on party recruitment, you can totally slip out, head to the next town over, advance some Dragoon quest stuff and spar with him a bit before the main event. Stuff like that amuses me. Anyway, this whole confrontation honestly is a very good scene. Someone should really take notes at how much better all this works when you have nice unambiguously good characters not only fighting some evil jerk but actively trying to save people they care about than wannabe Game of Thrones morally grey political stuff and shadowy robed figures with ambiguous goals whispering in people’s ears. And apparently someone is. My understanding is there was a big shift in the writing staff after this expansion and the grimdark folks kinda take a back seat while the woman who wrote the real standouts of the Rogue’s Guild and Dark Knight quest lines got tapped to write the better half of the next expansion and basically everyone for The Good One.

Estinein also finally takes off his busted blood-drenched edgy armor after this, and probably takes like his first bath ever, happy that his militant badass role is no longer needed and he has friends who take care of him. Which is nice but I can’t get over how wrong he looks without the helmet. I know he’s an elf but this semi-femme look is just weird for the guy always pulling the giant eyes out at meetings.

The next major story hook we have going on, which again is pretty intertwined with this one, is that all the less friendly monster folk kinda went and took advantage of your back being turned and started summoning their gods again. Canonically this is like the fourth or fifth time you’ve had to deal with this in some cases, because there is generally some plot justification for having the hard mode versions of those fights crop up (as opposed to the hard mode versions of non-summoned-god boss fights, which are rationalized by there being this bad hanging around who comes up with extra embellished versions of your exploits and then those go into the boss fight a la carte menu).

Hey, didn’t you used to have a whole party of friends whose whole deal was keeping tabs on exactly this sort of thing? Really is high time to get that band together too. Alphinaud has been with you the whole time, getting like half the dialog in the expansion. Y’shtola you dragged out of teleport limbo earlier. Urianger just never left your original base of operations because books are hard to move, you just haven’t checked in (past starting optional boss refight questlines) because who wants to spend time with Urianger? Papalymo and Yda are missing, but we get cutaways now and then showing them hanging out behind enemy lines doing resistance stuff. That still leaves Minfilia and Thancred. Thancred you know made it out because his scuzzy barfly pseudo-spy instincts kicked in and he got out from The Incident early but he’s been way off the grid. To help track him down, you get a little assistance from Matoya eventually, but also from that friend Minfilia’s been trying to invite to join the party since a half-audible phonecall near the climax of the base game, who’s been waylaid since by stuff like the empire full on destroying the island she was living on, Krile. Yes like, from FF5 Krile, has a grandfather named Galuf and everything... and wait where the hell is this line from? This has to be an edit, right?

Aside from being a walking FF5 reference, a big nerd all your nerd friends know from nerd school, and the owner of this custom-made catgirl hoodie, Krile is on that list of Lalafel I can count on one hand who aren’t Just The Worst. Another is Rauban’s adopted son who I think gets introduced around here somewhere. Anyway her and Matoya work out where Thancred’s been hiding. He also headed way up north you just never bumped into him, and he’s had eyes on this odd situation where while in particular the bug hivemind is getting their god up and running again and you show up to do your thing, this other goup of people come out of nowhere and killsteal him.

They introduce themselves as the Warriors of Darkness. Their whole deal is that they WERE the world-saving heroes of an alternate universe, but they claim they saved it a bit too hard, setting off an apocalypse where the whole balance of light and darkness tipped way too hard towards light and now this wave of holy radiance is just gradually glassing their whole world. They came here because one of those Ascian losers taught them the whole die and have your soul head off somewhere else trick, and put it into their heads that they can avert this apocalypse by coming here and scoring enough points for team darkness to screw your world over or kill your plot immunity crystal goddess or some such, but first they need to grind some god refights to power up and presumably recharge their personal metaphysical Zelda crystal chamber progression rooms, like you had to do during Heavensward and maybe spilling into Stormblood? I don’t recall when they all come back online.

The other thing with these guys is you’ve kinda seen them before, sort of, presumably, if you let the whole intro play out in the base game. There’s the whole bit where we see that end of 1.0 apocalyptic scene play out, then these five teleporting into the woods somewhere. The implication was clearly supposed to be that this is a party of 1.0 characters showing up unscathed afterwards but... no we are totally retconning it. This is a group of dimension hoppers party crashing. Actual 1.0 survivors had to start over at level 1 with no gear and nothing to show for it but those 1.0 veteran neck tattoos I’ve seen in the wild all of one time.

This gets real confusing real quick though, because the intro movies for every expansion have a pre-rendered stand-in for your character who looks more or less exactly like the guy in the middle. Also I’m pretty sure what you look like if you just mash through character creation without changing anything from its default postion. Also that central primary actually-took-the-Warrior-job Warrior of Darkness in particular kind of is canonically your sort-of-twin/counterpart from another dimension and I figure the only reason he isn’t actually just straight up given a copy of your character model is he has a ton of voiced lines and they’d sound weird coming from whatever you actually look like. Still super confusing though that when you first see this guy in the intro you incorrectly figure that’s you, and then in all the other intros when you do see you, you might think you’re seeing this guy now that you’ve met him. It’s also weird that they all summon chocobos in hindsight, but whatever we’re retconning an old cutscene now and that oddity only becomes odd in the expansion where we see where these people came from, still several years off.

So, they suck, and go around doing their thing while you’re dealing with other things. Thancred swoops in to help you out when you first meet them, and then later since he’s keeping tabs swoops in when they happen across Allisae when she’s just minding her own business/still waiting for you to find a party for that Bahamut raid already and take her down with a poisoned arrow that almost kills her. Trying to recall if that’s one of the several times when someone mistakes her for Alphinaud or vice versa. There’s definitely one of those the first time she meets Estinein which is pretty great.

There’s also a whole bit where we get cutaways to the Warriors of Darkness having planning sessions with a mysterious shadowy figure that is just so very clearly Urianger. Like that’s a really distinctive beard and also literally not one other person in the entire world talks like that. It doesn’t turn out that Urianger is secretly evil though, just... really curious about their whole backstory and all the interesting cosmology it brings in and stuff. Plus you know, they are trying to save their world from an apocalypse, that’s worth trying to help with, just not with the plan they’re going for. But also like, hey, Urianger, you’re hanging out having chats with an Ascian, that’s never a good plan.

Allisae tags along after getting pretty plainly pulled into this mess, and she’s honestly a pretty cool no nonsense hothead type which balances out all these academic nerds some. She’s around when you meet this tiny little kobold kid freaked out because the local priest is going to sacrifice his parents to summon Titan again, and you show up uh... between the part where he killed this kid’s parents and the summoning bit. The kid’s pretty traumatized by this, and in begging for his parents back, kinda ends up, you know, summoning Titan. Who does not bring his parents back. That is explicitly a thing gods can’t do (at least if you don’t want soulless zombie-like husks of people, they can swing that). But only hackney writing can truly bring back the dead. Interesting side note here, you have to fight Titan again, but it’s not a new fight? It’s just, like, “to proceed with the story please bring up medium difficulty Titan and knock that out real quick.” Weirdest thing. Anyway at the end of this we just have this SUPER traumatized to the point of catatonia kobold kid and Allisae is super invested in his eventual recovery and it’s kind of the defining moment for her character and pays off nicely later.

There’s a lot of lore dumping associated with all this and honestly none of it fits in super well with what’s previously been established about cyclical apocalypses and it all gets retconned pretty hard again the next time it’s relevant and that revison is way better world building than “wow those evil manipulative Ascians sure are trying to make this party of noble* heroes do evil stuff to plunge the whole world into darkness” business.

* I am just never going to be able to let the whole deadly poison in an arrow fired at a random civilian thing go. There’s really no justifying that and it directly conflicts with everything they try to do with these characters later.

Anyway turns out Minfilia’s dead. Kinda. It’s complicated. To work out what’s up with her you have to go bother poor Matoya again and check out the upside down tower in her closet I accidentally mentioned too early. Which arbitrarily ends by the way with a fight against Calcabrina, that really memorable creepy doll fight from FF4. Sadly you can’t skip the big boss by killing all 6 little dolls at once here. So, your personal goddess Hydaelyn has been having connectivity issues for a while (again, this is why you needed an immunization booster in the form of a soul pact with Midgardsomnr, who still pops up to chat here and there and also manifested a cooler mount form for Azys Lla touring). So... when Minfilia was kind of just adrift in the lifestream there with Y’shtola, she kinda went “hey can I like hollow out your body to use as a mouthpiece for talking to the protagonist? It’d really help me out” and not having any sort of actual personality Minfilia agreed. She’s kinda still in there but, yeah. Also like I already assumed, just because this game is so very diligent about hammering home that all religions and gods are inherently false and parasitic, that we’re eventually leading up to a big “and that absolutely includes Hydaelyn” moment, and this here really feels like tipping their hand towards that but... somehow not one single character in the whole game sees this as a red flag or has any problem with it.

Eventually you have your big ol’ showdown with these Warrior of Darkness jerks, and its kind of a neat one showing off a lot of new mechanical concepts that will be commonplace soon, and it’s a big ol’ party vs. party thing where you fight their whole team and the Scions pull their weight for a change helping out. Allisae (who’s never really been formally on the team but is definitely A Party Member from here on out) kinda surprises everyone by announcing she’s sick of being all passive in the background with her little caster book that matches Alphinaud’s and whips out a big ol’ glowing crystal sword she’s gonna try tanking with for a change. After this she decides that’s not really for her and goes for a lighter one once the Red Mage class gets introduced.

So you beat these jerks up and send’em packing back to their home dimension, but you do feel bad for them, so Minfilia/the voice of god goes along with them to see about maybe helping out there. You know, again, we wasted a perfectly good Moonbryda to avoid killing Minfilia off earlier and then we go right and turn around and pull that trigger anyway, basically. And now we’ve just got one and a half major plot developments left and I kinda want to save the one that really sets up the next expansion for last, after I get into the sidequest stuff.

The half though is that somewhere in the middle of all this a real big preposterously tough weirdo samurai washes up by Urianger’s place, having just come over from Doma by just taking a damn rowboat over. Possibly going the long way around the world, too. I just generally enjoy this broad character archetype.

youtube

And yeah it’s weird he’s British in the English dub. It’s weird that everyone’s British. Well everyone but Gaius I guess. When we get to the third expansion people start having accents from other parts of the UK at least for a little variety, but it’s weird. Anyway Gosetsu here is a cool new friend but he’s mostly here to let Yugiri know we’re kinda getting the resistance band going again over in Doma after things were rough enough for a bunch of people to have to immigrate over here and get involved in ninja job quests. Can’t foreshadow things much harder than that.

Time for side stuff though. First off, hey, with all these flying islands we have in this expansion, we really should have some cool friendly air pirates. The sort you’d see in Skies of Arcadia, or various Ghibli films. So we do! They’re fun! And we get involved with them as they’re dealing with this big scary floating doom ship that survived a past apocalypse with some evil guys looking for ancient relics. Typical stuff from those wacky Allag- oh! Hey for like the first and only significant time it’s NOT the Allagan empire! We’re dealing with fallout from one of the OTHER world ending apocalypses and dead civilizations! This isn’t just out of the blue or anything. This stuff does come up a bit in the slew of optional dungeons that opened up after the base game, and in various class/job questlines, particularly like all the spellcaster ones.

Way back when we had three big civilizations of nerds all at once and at war with each other. We’ve got Ampador (white mages), Mhach (black mages), and Nym (scholars). And the big war they had went down in history books as the War of the Magi... because damn if the writers for this game don’t bend over backwards to work in every reference and every maybe-this-is-even-the-same-world-centuries-later deal with every old Final Fantasy game, but especially the SNES ones, and ESPECIALLY FF6. Surviving details are sketchy but basically Nym got taken out with a plague that turned everyone into tonberries, and the other two really went at it until a point where thanks to black mages spamming fire ice and lightning, and white mages spamming wind and earth, the whole world’s elemental alignment got skewed because the only people who ever cast water spells are ninja, and this caused a global flood. Really that’s what this wiki just told me.

The Mhachi got out by building a big flying arc powered by bound demons, including the queen of demons, which is just an absolutely ridiculous and irresponsibly dangerous thing to do and yes I am 100% just setting up a callback joke for when I explain what happens in later expansions. Also the demons are specifically bound in giant coffins, as is the Mhachi style, so... we have this gigantic airship made of coffins looking all Event Horizon and having this general manta rays and mind flayers aesthetic going on. I actually genuinely like that this setting has such a convoluted history with multiple fallen empires just kinda tucked away in the background so we can pull stuff like this out now and then and appreciate the shared themes and aesthetics stuff from various eras has. That’s some solid nerdy world-building I’d like to see more people tackle. I’d also kinda like to see more of it here because for real this is the only time it’s ever not the Allagans.

Helping you deal with all this and giving you ancient history backstory is this weird little familiar that’s survived since Mhachi times whose name is, can you guess the reference we’re dropping? Cait Sith. He looks... odd. Anyway, this is our big alliance raid trilogy for the expansion. Noteworthy cameo bosses include Doomgaze from FF6, who has a bunch of hard to read full party kill attacks and is a lot of fun to learn and then watch other people die to constantly, and Diabolos, who you’re actually fighting for a second time if you did an optional dungeon. Plus a bunch of reasonably original vaguely Gaelic and/or fishy demons.

Anyway speaking of weird little artificially created cute familiars, remember our dumb friend Hildibrand? You pull him out of a snow drift and have some fresh wacky shenanigans with him. This time as you pull him out, you also pull out this adorable as all hell little clockwork Black Mage called Gigi because that’s the sound your little head gears make when your memory isn’t working right, and we didn’t want to just directly go with Vivi. Hildy and his assistant Nashu argue about Gigi’s gender but totally just decide to collectively do the adoptive parents thing. At first they’re living in the gazebo of the noble family you’re still sort of crashing with (and we absolutely get some oldschool RPG nerd gazebo jokes) but eventually they decide if they’re really going to be a proper family they need a gazebo of their own, and settle for a vacant house in Idyllshire, that sort-of-a-town in the ruins of Sharlayan set up by cool goblin pals. Gigi decides their new residence needs a proper family crest too, and creates one.

Gigi is freaking adorable. Oh and Hildy’s dad also shows up during his, at one point using his renowned artisan skills to craft Gigi a new super buff muscle guy body to be a Proper Manderville Man which is pretty great while it lasts. Other little clockwork black mages/vikings/cool little guys with void faces exist incidentally, they’re called mammets and aren’t quite relics of a lost civilization, but were created early enough in the history of the current civilization that people are kinda 50/50 on still having the knowledge to fix them. Gigi is special though having this whole time reversing power that leads to various shenigans and some angsting about not being able to fix everything and a big heroic sacrifice moment leading to a powered down state, after which Gigi goes on your list of little summonable minions along with chicken-Enkidu and a bunch of other random things, to hang out and hopefully remember stuff. Oh and Hildy gets launched like half a world away again because someone points out that if Gigi is his child that makes his incongruously hot and violence-prone mom a grandmother and she cannot deal with that.

Briardien the other inspector from the last batch of Hildy stuff also pops up again, with his own longng line of really just cutscene sidequests and... I’m gonna be real with you. It is some boring Harry-Potter-ask magic school crap and my eyes glazed over as soon as it started and I just kinda blindly mashed through it all to get the little glasses-adjust emote at the end and get those exclamation points off my screen. It’s lame, he’s lame, doing a Harry Potter sort of thing is lame, I don’t care, and I’m glad he never shows up again.

But then we’ve got the "normal” raid set. Seeing chunks of this are literally what got me to take a chance on this game to begin with (well that and it’s totally free up to the end of this post you’re reading), and kept me going through the absolute slog to get to this point. Freaking Alexander as this combination city/god/confusing timefolding thing/set of a dozen or so little mini-dungeons/bossfights with really great music and where you fight a combination of goblin mad scientsts and smaller city-like robots that live inside the big one, some of whom transform.

youtube

It is just a blast playing through this bit. You’ve got all kinds of steampunky little sections where everyone has to split up and dive down big tubes and ride ultraspeedy ultra-thin conveyor belts that careen all through this big city, there’s this wacky mad scientist fight where people have to jump into pools of mystery goo that transforms them into gorillas so they can punch aside big cartoony bombs, the transformer in that bit I just linked where halfway through the fight you have to run over and jump on as it turns into a jet and just nukes the whole arena, then do a timed button press to hop off safely, and of course the specific thing someone showed me that hooked me in is the bit where you fight a set of five robots, then they fight Voltron, with a remix of an earlier track from the area in the style of a 60s tokusatsu theme.

youtube

The plot associated with this is neat too. Alexander is just kinda there, in this big frozen time bubble, barely shifting now and then to get a little bit of itself out and giving you a new entry point. Cid and friends are checking it out, because showing up to check out the cool new techy raid dungeon is their entire deal and a repeated thing. Turns out it just sort of appeared out of nowhere a few years ago, vaporized this one woman’s boyfriend, and vanished, with just a book about it and a cat left behind. One of the local goblins found the book, studied it, decided that Alexander is just the coolest thing, and summoned it the way FF14 people do to be the new utopian home of his people. Cid is horrified by this and says something along the lines of “what kind of a monster takes something as pure and beautiful as a giant robot and goes and makes a god out of it?” So you head through, cool goblin techno getting louder and more distinct as you approach the center, have a big confrontation, time travel mode gets turned on, you all get a good view as you jump back a few years, watch this guy get vaporized, and the head goblin’s cat decide he sucks and hop off with his notebook, realize there’s all sorts of time loop shenanigans as you make friends with his adorable cat.

And of course partway through all this there’s a bit about dead boyfriend gal talking about her people’s creation myths also mentioning what sure seems like Alexander popping up at some point and dumping out her Adam and Eve equivalents, so yeah, that’s where things end up for her and her less-dead-than-suspected boyfriend once all the timeloop business wraps up and you have the proper fight against Alexander, on top of Alexander, with Alexander looming in the background because time and space are all kinda going screwy on you. I swear when people say they like Heavensward what they really mean is they like this Alexander stuff you get access to after it.

Eventually though once you’re done playing with time traveling robots, air pirate demons, building a city for moogles and dragons, helping bugs reject their abusive parents, and leading dance squads for owl people, it is time to get back to that main story progression. Ishgard eventually gets it together enough to come join your alliance, and you’ve finally got the whole continent united to deal with that evil empire. The one that’s been occupying your immediate neighbor for two decades. With all the refugees. Isn’t it, uh, about time you get around to striking back and doing some liberating there? A lot of people sure think it is. This is what Papalymo and Yda have been busy with. That whole coup leading into this expansion was tied into false promises of pushing back there. For some reason though, the collected heads of state aren’t quite willing to push the button there yet though. I guess they want to intercept a fresh attack wave before they counter? That’s the go to plan in strategy games. Maybe deal with the recent summoning wave some?

In any case it really gets under the skin of the local terrorist scene as headed up by Ilberd, that guy who cut Rauban’s arm off, and they decide it’s time to force everyone’s hand by stealing a bunch of military uniforms from everyone else and assaulting the nearest imperial stronghold themselves. I am fully in support of this plan, honestly, people are really dragging their feet too much. Unfortuantely the Empire has, you know, lots of guns and death robots and while they’re too blindsided to get the real heavy ordinance out, Ilberd stole uniforms from EVERYONE, and has this whole Watchmen plan going which involves his own assault squad getting pretty well slaughtered even as you and your actual armies rush in to help, because all of them getting desperate and panicky and him busting out a big ol’ bit of aether storage in the form of one of Nidhogg’s eyes he climbed down to get from the big hole you tossed it down let’s him do a big ol’ large scale summoning. You suck Ilberd. Could have just forced a war all regular.

It seems like the new summon is coming in all extra huge and Bahamut looking, and Papalymo, having recently borrowed what’s left of Louisoix’s staff (oh yeah, there was a whole thing with Ascians wanting that because it has some ancient super good aether channeling rock built in, this came up with the Moonbryda stuff I think), decides to recreate that whole save world from giant god dragon thing from the ol’ intro, despite the fact that he knows it kills the caster, and the fact that like, you’re right there. You kill gods, it’s your whole thing, you could take it. Yda’s pretty upset with this plan because those two are pretty close and goes all “if you’re dying here so am I.” Thancred just goes “no you’re freaking not” and drags her off. Hey, finally everyone’s getting some real characterization here. Anyway Papalymo’s dead. I guess that’s kinda tragic. He’s certainly been around the whole time. If I’m honest he was never really well established though? He’s a healer, he fusses over people like C-3PO. I guess he’s on that short list of Lalafel I don’t hate. But the most interesting thing about him is a bit we only just find out here now that he’s dead.

Yda is also dead. Has been for some time. Apparently since some time in 1.0, even. The original Yda was a monk with serious self-esteem issues with her face and/or a desire to hide her traditional Ala Migan face tattoos, and therefore always wore a mask, so when she died in some big attack, her younger sister Lyse just had to steal her mask and pretend to be her for uh... basically as long as anyone present has known her aside from Papalymo. The big reveal is that like most of the Scions, she has these fancy neck tattoos everyone in 1.0′s Scions equivalent had, but the real Yda died after getting those, and these were an illusion Papalymo was creating. I feel like this would land a lot better if the real Yda died more recently, like, oh, when things went bad in Ul’dah? But even then she hadn’t really been established as much of a character. Just a little bit of a bimbo, kicks people, hangs with the short healer. But it’s pretty significant to her, so she’s ditching the mask, going back to using her real name, and really keen on being basically the main character for the next expansion like Alphinaud was for this one since the whole fallen fortress/giant god summon thing did totally force everyone’s hand.

Oh but first that there god is still there, just kinda temporarily bound, and we don’t have a moon handy to lock it up in. Which of course means it’s time for you to kill it right? Well... normally it would be, but Cid and Nero are kinda “on again” just now and Nero found this cool robot buried underground and mostly worked out the manual and he just really really pretty please wants to see a big cool CGI fest cutscene where a big Godzilla-ish spacey dragon fights a weird vaguely Gamera like robot. This is objectively a horrible idea, for the record. You totally can and do just go punch that dragon to death like every other god, and Nero’s robot kinda goes on to cause a real problem in the next post-expansion, and then again like, time of writing, the Ultimate difficulty fight with it has only been beaten once by people who were exposed as flagrantly cheating. That’s all on you Nero, so I hope you enjoy your pointlessly indulgent cutscene.

youtube

Are you happy now Nero? Are you? You know I STILL haven’t finished FF5 thanks to Omega. Gotta go and add that to this game too huh, well I hope you’re happy. I guess big dragons and robots fighting in cutscenes is a series tradition though, and it’ kind of neat to get a preview of what some bosses’ deals are going to be WELL in advance of when you get to fight them. For now they’re both down for the count, we get a shot of the Domans heading home, the main villain for the next expansion seeing and appreciating that splashy fight because that’s the sort of thing he’s into, and for the 4th time, we have a very long credits roll, marking the end of what you can play without putting up any cash. Which is admittedly a solid chunk of game, only most of which is super boring and tedious!

So yeah, again, I honestly straight up do not like Heavensward. Too much time hanging out with just the absolute worst people, even if you do get to personally kill kind of a lot of them, and none of the dungeons or boss fights are particularly interesting either (Bismark would be if it had teeth). Post-Heavensward though? Pretty solid overall. We really start fleshing out the main cast, and have some really just bonkers side quests with a lot of creative energy and memorable moments. As of here though I would still say no FF14 is a terrible game with a bad plot but has some really neat optional content once you’re an expansion deep. And I would have to stop here since again, this is where the free version ends, and while I got here just around the end of when the free-trial availability’s hammering of the servers forced them to shut down new character registration and I could invite some friends in, they all bounced off before even the first dungeon. People I know who’d been in it a while though went and gifted me the other expansions and several months of time cards though, so next post I’ll be talking about the second expansion. Is that where things finally get good? Eh kinda. They get pretty OK at least. It does weird me out that things get much more enjoyable right at the point you need to put money in though.

Speaking of money I am still like one bad day away from being homeless, and I have a Patreon. You don’t have to give ME money to learn what’s in these next 3 expansions, but I’d sure appreciate it if you did.

Next time, Stormblood... which I swear will be a shorter write-up. But then I always think that.

#final fantasy 14 #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #estinein like immedately grabs those eyes again because he's an idiot by the way

9 notes · View notes

anti-katsuki-lounge · 1 year

Note

marunalu recently noted in their blog post that the reality that MHA will never be allowed to have a gay MC, major LGBT+ characters(only allusions and minor characters that don't take much action) or make any non-straight pairing for the characters due to Japanese laws, culture and tradition that will take decades before its even allowed in Shounen(9-13). So it's actually sad that non-Japanese shippers who obsess with shipping to the point that its their own character that they issue death threats and harassments to other people who might treat it like a hobby or don't care about it at all. They even harass and authors and VAs who do the work as a job and might disenchant them from finishing anything.

Yes, it does suck that the Japanese government and older people don't support LGBT+ rights like the West, but it takes decades for some Western countries to stop treating being gay like a mental illness and even more to allow gay marriage. And we're still dealing with the fact that the older folks in government that really shouldn't be leading anymore don't truly want to support LGBT+ rights.

Shipping should be a hobby with a fantasy element. You can do whatever you what with it but it shouldn't affect other people. It's likely that shipping is corrupted by the fact that people might use it to cope with the realities of relationships and dating that it becomes the identity. Honestly it's sad as many places have bad or no mental help services that allows people to acknowledge the situation and coping with it better. They're so entitled that they rather unintentionally destroy everything and wonder what happened to it when its remains are gutter instead of using it as a fantasy that shouldn't affect reality.

Just for background: I am a Bisexual Hispanic/Latino.

Do I think representation is important? Yes. However no one should harass someone to include it, for several reasons. Storytelling wise, you can tell if someone’s including a character that is a minority because they want to tell a story surrounding said character or that they included such a character just to win Twitter points. The former produces some of the most well written characters, offering insight into the lives of minority communities and their struggles while also allowing a character to thrive as an individual. Movies/shows/characters like Coco, Enchanto, The Owl House, Blue Beetle (Jamie Reyes), Persona 4, Moon Knight, and Black Panther showcase this. The latter, well, is more of a token than an actual character, done to say “hey, look, we included diversity. Now give me your money”! To me this feels disingenuous and scummy since to me it comes off as a means of making money rather than caring about diversity in it of itself.

More importantly, there’s the personal reasons why someone might not have much diversity. Like you’ve mentioned, due to the Japanese Government, LGBTQ+ centric stories can be difficult to write depending on the genre. It’s no fault of the author, so people shouldn’t bully and harass them because of this. Some authors might not feel comfortable writing about the struggles of a community they’re not a part of and don’t have experience with, and that’s fine too. At the end of the day, people shouldn’t be harassed due to not including diversity. Now if things like whitewashing minority characters happens and/or the like happens, then it’s completely understandable to get pissed. Same thing with someone simply being a bigot.

In conclusion, diversity is great and a very important thing to have, but no one should be harassed if they don’t include diversity. Society also looks different in Japan than it does in the west.

7 notes · View notes

nebulouscoffee · 10 months

Note

For the fanfic writing asks - 42, 49 & 79 please? :)

Thank you so much! And, kudos to you for actually reading all those questions, have my sincere appreciation 👏

What’s your favorite title that you’ve come up with?

Honestly, 'Light Matters and Hollow Graphics', because cringe is dead and I love making puns. I don't care what anyone says puns are funny okay!!! (context: this is primarily a Holosuite Fic but it's also about The Issues And Illusions That Guide Us or something lol)

What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

I'm gonna say 'Who We Are', which is funny because it's probably like the least self-projectey fic I've written? But it was also among the first, and it just has sooo many nebulouscoffeeisms going on lol:

identity crises (my jam)

ridiculous meandering metaphysical soul-searching (my jam)

too much worldbuilding (do people really need to know the names of the entire senior staff on Ezri's old ship? I say yes)

being an ensemble fic (I am not by nature a blorboist rip)

being mostly gen (this is going to sound hilarious but, up until I started writing star trek fanfiction I had never once attempted writing romance or couples before? All my work before this was literally like. thee most sexless sci-fantasy you ever read in your life lmaooo, and while I have been trying to use fanfic as a medium to get more comfortable writing romance, my fics still tend to be dominated by platonic relationships)

callbacks and references (read: excessive)

messing around with format

Found Family Moments™️

various characters giving each other emotional pep talks

748324 species headcanons

being a longfic that's probably about 10k too long, and finally

not being updated since 2022 😇

Do you have any writing advice you want to share?

(obviously using "you" as a general you here, not you you :D)

I mean it's always gonna be some variation of "kill the cringe". I know (and understand!) the desire to have all your works be of uniformly good quality and The Best Possible Versions Of Themselves, but that's just not possible. It's not! The more you write, the more you improve. The longer you pickle a show in your brain, the more nuanced your understanding of it becomes. The more you read, the more you take on new inspirations. And as time passes, both your writing style and your readings of the source material will change, and that's okay. That's okay. It's so much kinder to yourself to look at your works as a sort of- idk, diary? of your brain- a time capsule of what shows you were obsessed with, what characters and ships you were feral about at the time, what fics you were reading and feeling inspired by, what issues were weighing on your mind, what songs you'd been listening to, which people you'd been interacting with, what conversations you'd been having- like, those are precious memories right there! Your fics aren't entries into a competition or a gallery; they're a record, a little piece of who you were when you wrote them. It doesn't matter if your earlier fics aren't as "good" as your new ones, or if you'd do the same idea more justice now, or if your interests and/or characterisations have changed. You watched something, you were filled with the desire to create- and you did it, and you shared it, and you connected with other people through it- and that's just wonderful. And like- deeply human, right?

And honestly, the best way to stop cringing at your own work is to train yourself to stop cringing at other peoples' work. To be clear I don't mean works with language or characterisations rooted in bigoted/otherwise harmful lines of thought, I just mean badly written dialogues, or harmless mischaracterisations, etc. Stop cringing at them!! Not everyone writing fic is a Writer writer, and not every Writer writer is a good writer, and that's fine!! Seriously, actively helping create an environment where people enjoy sharing their work with you and don't feel extremely stressed and cringed at WILL LITERALLY HELP YOU NOT FEEL STRESSED AND CRINGED AT!!! On that note, I am now going to proceed to continue not updating any of my stuff for some more time, because I am a hypocrite and posting is stressful😁

#my fics #tysm for the ask!! I'm posting this only now because there have been nonstop power cuts since last night rip #but typing this out offline was a great distraction when I really needed one :) which is probably why it's so unnecessarily long lol whoops

6 notes · View notes

illisidifan · 1 year

Text

Please just stop.

I'm gonna be honest, white people asking really stupid questions about subjects minorities bring up such as "Is it cultural appropriation to learn a language if I'm not part of that community?" feels like either:

White people are too lazy or entitled to actually think through things like this to arrive at a logical conclusion about what is and isn't covered by the topic or idea,

They are once again outsourcing responsibility by questioning everything they do and bringing those questions to the minorities who they feel "know best",

They are virtue signaling by taking something they know isn't "that bad" or in some cases even fucking related and extending this idea to include it in some weird look-at-me effort to prove they're not a racist/bigot.

I'm going to help my fellow white people out here and clear things up as best I can. Everything is nuanced. You MUST learn to critically think about EVERYTHING, especially the beliefs and behaviors you have that you've never thought about before. When a minority points out to you that something you did is offensive, that's not a call for you to panic and assume you've been doing everything wrong and start pestering said minority about every little white guilt anxiety you have. Just stop, breath, think over what they've said, thank them for telling you (because it's often pretty brave to tell someone they are wrong or are hurting you), and then if you're confused by what they are saying ask DIRECTLY RELEVANT questions to better understand. For example:

If someone says something you are doing is cultural appropriation, you first examine what you are doing and try to see it from their perspective to see if you can figure out on your own why they would feel that way. If you can't figure it out, then politely ask "Hey, can you tell me what it is that is offensive about this?" Do not just ask "Why would you find that offensive?" because that's asking them to justify themselves. Just ask them to explain the thing that sparked the emotion/reaction. They'll probably say something like "Well, Karen, it feels pretty shit to see you walking around with war paint and a Pocahontas outfit because I'm Ojibwe and you are wearing a not even accurate facsimile of my culture as a fucking costume." (Going to make an aside here and let you know that it's dumb to be offended when a minority isn't polite about you being insensitive, we white folks have weaponized politeness to silence minority protest for CENTURIES, its gross, don't do it).

From then on, it is now YOUR responsibility to reflect on what has been said and integrate it into your own understanding and world view. I personally recommend doing some reading (or audiobooks, whatever you can) about the subject to get a better understanding of what you've been called out on. The other side of this is it is important not to let your white guilt cause you to become obsessed with this and stuck on it to the point that you become convinced that everything you are doing is somehow offensive and you feel the need to track down minority "experts" on Tumblr to slide into their asks and get them to exonerate you. Deal with your own emotions. Get some fucking resilience. Learn how to accept criticism without fucking spiraling or blaming others and if you can't, get your ass to THERAPY.

(If you are unsure what I mean by virtue signaling, check out "Virtue Hoarders: The Case against the Professional Managerial Class" by Catherine Liu. She gives an absolutely fantastic breakdown and explains how damaging to coalition building and class solidarity virtue signaling is. For the record, my layman's definition of virtue signaling is "when a person tries to make themselves seem like a 'good' person by overly emphasizing opinions they hold that they think make them look good". Notice I do NOT say anything about left or right because while tons of things online want to talk about virtue signaling on the left, including the book I am referencing, there is an ASS TON of virtue signaling on the right. Anyone who grew up in a rural part of the North and saw people with the confederate flag whose ancestors very likely fought with the union knows this.)

#Opinion

1 note · View note

gaysimpsstuff · 3 years

Text

Tiny Dicks Are The Best; Bakugou x FtM Reader

Genre: smut

Type: oneshot

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: cock/clit worship, mentions of surgery, mentions of dysphoria, praise, body worship, Bakugou being a total simp,

Other: this is %1,000,000 self indulgent, also I’m sorry it’s short and shitty, I wanted to make it longer but if I did then it’d come out super late like the last one.

NSFW Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy @catcherisvibin

Y’know, being transgender isn’t bad at all. You can make a bunch of gender jokes, confuse the government, make bigots cry with just your existence, and it’s easier to understand people of different genders.

It’s just that the dysphoria and transphobia can be shitty.

But this isn’t about that, this is about your dick, or rather, lack thereof.

As much as you were told by the guys and girls of class 1-A that you exuded ‘big dick energy,’ you were pretty sure that you had a smaller dick than even Mineta. When you started taking Testosterone, your clit had started to get bigger, and it would get hard just like an actual penis, but it was very much not a penis.

Notice the lack of balls and the placement of your urethra? Yeah that was no real dick. But it was nice to pretend. It served enough dick-like purpose for you to call it a dick, and it had grown to be about three inches. So it was technically a dick, even if it wasn’t a penis.

So you called it a dick.

You had gotten top surgery however, so you did have those very cool scars on your chest, and being able to walk around shirtless felt freakin amazing. Bakugou had seen you shirtless, but he hadn’t seen your dick yet.

After a good long while of dating the amazing third year, you felt it was time. And fuck if you weren’t nervous.

You’d talked about it before, but know you were actually about to do it. You were going to have sex with Katsuki Bakugou, the hottest guy in the world, your incredible boyfriend, the man who never lost. You were gonna have sex with him.

“We don’t have to go all the way.” you were laying on the bed, Katsuki’s hands on either side of your waist as he hovered over you. His red eyes soft, yet lustful as he stared at your body beneath his. “We don’t have to do this.”

You stared up at him lovingly as his hand traveled to your cheek, rubbing your cheek bone. You smiled at him, putting your hand on his, moving your face to press a kiss to his palm.

“Katsuki, I want to do this with you. We can start slow if you want.” You offered, and he nodded. His shirt had been abandoned a long time ago, and his neck was covered in hickies. Your uniform top was unbuttoned, tie laying beside you. Katsuki nodded at you, his hand falling down to your chest. He ran his fingers along your surgery scars, dipping his head down to kiss them. You giggled a little, telling him it tickled.

He moved down, pressing kisses to every inch of your body, occasionally sucking the skin between his lips to try and make hickies, biting down and smirking up at your face.

“Gettin’ flustered yet, babe?” he chuckled smugly. You buried your face in the crook of your arm, embarrassed.

“M-maybe a little...” you muttered. He hummed, moving lower and lower until he was unbuckling your pants. “Hey- wait, wait a moment, Katsuki!” You sat up, grabbing his wrist. Katsuki froze, looking up at you.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked.

“N-no, I just- I gotta tell you something...” he stared at you, waiting for you to talk to him. “My dick doesn’t look how you think it will...” you murmured. “I just want you to be prepared.” you let go of his wrist, sitting back to let him continue.

“Whatever your dick looks like, I promise I’ll love it. It’s your dick afterall.” he purred, pulling your belt off your pants, before helping you lift your hips so he could take your pants off.

Tiny as your dick was, it still made a small imprint in your underwear, and Bakugou bit his lip. You squirmed a little as he finally started to pull your underwear down. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you revealed yourself to him.

You heard Bakugou suck in a breath, and his fingers dug into your thighs, nails gripping your skin hard enough to leave marks. You opened your eyes, looking down your body at your boyfriend, who was staring right at your sex with a burning desire.

“K-Katsuki?” You whispered “D- d’you not like it?”

“I wanna suck you off- oh god please let me suck your dick!” He tore his eyes away to look you in the eyes. You nodded, brushing some of his hair out of his face.

“You can, just be gentle. It’s very sensitive.” He nodded, pressing a few kisses to your outer labia. He slipped a finger between your folds, gathering up some of your slick. He lifted it to his nose, sniffing it before his tongue darted out from between his lips to lap at his finger.

His grip on your thigh tightened as you heard him groan. He forced your legs open, pushing them upwards and out of the way. Finally, he went down on you.

You whined loudly as he wrapped his lips around your dick, sucking lightly as he teased your entrance with his fingers. Your hands flew to the sheets, tugging the fabric up with your fingers in a sorry attempt to keep yourself grounded.

“Ah- K-Katsuki~ fuck Katsuki!” You cried out, bucking your hips up against his face.

“What? Can’t handle it? You want me to stop~?” He teased, and you shook your head

“Don’t stop! Oh god please don’t stop!”

“Yeah? You like it?” He purred. “Cuz I sure do, I really like this fucking dick~” you tried to press your face into the pillows as he slipped a finger inside you.

“Katsuki- y-you’re embarrassing me!” You whined.

“Yeah? I don’t fucking care,” he growled. “I only care about getting this cute little dick to cum~” in that instant, you were back inside his mouth, and he didn’t even need to bob his head to fit all of you inside.

You squirmed and wiggled, and Katsuki moved his hands from you thigh to your hip. He growled again, looking up at you with a glare. He wanted you to keep still.

His thumb rubbed soothingly at your skin as he continued to fingerfuck you, slipping another digit inside your quivering walls. You couldn’t keep yourself from mewling his name, bucking up into his touch.

“God I love your noises,” he groaned against your sopping wet core. “I love your dick, I love you.”

“Katsuki!” You cried out when his fingers curled upwards, pressing against your g-spot. “Oh fuck Katsuki, right there!”

“Oh? Did I find your special spot? Hmm good boy~” you could feel all senses washing away, Katsuki was just making you feel so good, too good, you could hardly process it.

Was this really his first time?

Katsuki pulled his fingers out of you, moving them upwards to rub at your dick. Your own slick acting as lube. He circled your entrance with his tongue.

“Ah- Kat-Katsuki! Careful, that- that’s sensitive! Mm fuck~”

“Well you seem to like it, so I’m going to do it.” He slid his tongue inside you, swishing it around to gather as much of your nectar as he could.

“Oh shit, oh fuck, oh shit oh fuck, oh shit, oh fuck oh shit oh fuck!” You threw your head back onto the pillows, legs spasming and pressing down on either side of Katsuki’s face.

Katsuki moved his hand away from your dick, taking to rubbing at your hips to calm you. He continued to tongue-fuck you throughout your high, slowing down as you started to relax before he finally pulled away.

“You good baby?” he purred, licking your sticky climax off his lips. You whimpered, nodding.

“That felt really good~” you huffed as he crawled over you again, pressing kisses to your neck.

“You’re fucking hot~” he murmured, nipping at your skin. “You sounded so sweet, and tasted sweet too~” he tilted your head up so he could meet your eyes. “Tiny dicks are the fucking best~”

#bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou smut #trans reader #bakugou x trans reader #bnha x trans reader #trans ftm #bakugou x male reader #bakugou x male #poc reader #bnha x poc!reader #mha x poc!reader #bakugou x poc!reader

1K notes · View notes

fixyourwritinghabits · 3 years

Note

I know writing by color exists but they're usually very selective with their answers. I'm writing a mystery short story series similar to Sherlock Holmes with a detective and assistant set in Chicago. I want to have to add diversity with the detective, assistant, Clients/victims, suspects, and villains. It's just that no matter what I do it feels bigoted and uncomfortable in some way. What can I do to not fall into stereotypes that are racist, sexist, ableist, lgbt+phobic, etc as a new writer?

"I want to make my writing diverse but I'm scared I'll mess it up" is not a bad path to be on, but it can be a daunting path. I've seen Fear of Fucking Up hold a lot of writers back, and it's understandable! No one wants to hurt others unintentionally, and we're all aware of how many harmful things we've absorbed and may still be unaware of.

You are at the beginning of the path, and I wish I could hand you a clear map lined out with helpful little stops, but I can't. The journey ahead relies on what you need to unpack and discover, and that's going to be different for everyone. I can give you a general guide, though.

Which characters are you worried about the most? Why? If you can easily identify how your writing of these characters feels off, you can find ways to change them. Maybe you need to take a step back and consider if you're trying too much too soon.

Say, for example, you want to write a major character is a middle-aged Black woman from Atlanta, but you're a young white guy from a majority-white small Californian town and you've never tried to write this kind of character before. Everything you write feels stilted and off. You're worried she's a stereotype that will hurt the very people you're trying to represent. You feel frustrated and guilty, because you're supposed to be better than this. As a writer, you're supposed to be able to see beyond stereotypes and write true, right?

Well, here's the thing. If you're at this point in your writing, if you're stuck by a brick wall of worry, you're not ready to write this character. Now, I'm not saying just make everybody characters you're comfortable with. I'm saying don't bite off more than you can chew. You love this character, but you're not ready to make her a major character, and that's okay - consider keeping her around as a secondary character. Can't get a conversation right between the detective and someone who speaks English as a second language? Step away from it for the time being. Give yourself time to learn how that conversation would actually go before you attempt it. There's no shame in taking the time to learn.

You're not a failure of a writer, you just need more time to grow. Fortunately, the mystery genre has many BIPOC writers that you can read and learn from. There are LGBT mystery writers out there as well! There are a lot of diverse voices online you can follow, and a lot of nonfiction books about dismantling stereotypes. Google can give you a bunch of booklists to start with, and your local librarian can be a great help with personalized recommendations. Writing buddies can also be a great help in talking though issues, and it's worth finding a group that fits you. Be honest about what you need and why, and people will help you!

As a new writer, it's okay that you can't write the diverse world you want to write yet. Acknowledging that the world is diverse, that the setting of your novel has plenty of diverse people in it with their own issues and problems as secondary and background characters is way better than not trying at all. Push yourself out of your comfort zone for sure, but don't jump into the deep end if you can't swim well yet.

Find the best entry point on that path for you, and get hiking. I promise the journey isn't as hard as it seems.

#diversity in writing #anyone have a favorite BIPOC/LGBT/etc mystery writer to recommend?#I don't read much mystery but I'm a big fan of Ed Lin myself

350 notes · View notes

persephone-plasmids · 3 years

Text

Trying

A Danse and Nora fic

[Part 1]

[Read on AO3]

Danse woke up before the sun, his chest heavy with the memories of the night before. Nora had kissed him. But she’d also been drunk, so it hadn’t counted.

Of course, that didn’t stop him from reliving the moment in his mind over and over again. He’d hardly slept as he wondered what was worse: Nora remembering the kiss and regretting it, or forgetting about it and the two of them never addressing it again. He wasn’t sure what he could even hope for if she did remember. She’d never reciprocate his feelings. And he couldn’t fault her for that. He was a Synth. An abomination.

Danse scowled up at the ceiling before rolling out of bed, pulling his boots on, and leaving the partially destroyed house in Sanctuary where he now stayed. The settlement had turned into a place for all of Nora’s strays to reside; himself included.

Fog hung heavily in the early morning air as Danse began his normal jog around the perimeter of the settlement. He’d run up the rocky hills to make sure no Raiders had taken up residence overnight then splash through the river a few times to cool himself down before making the jog up the hill to the entrance of Vault 111.

Today, the sight of the large metal vault entrance only made his stomach turn. It reminded him of his interaction with Nora the day before. She’d been grieving the loss of her husband. She’d gotten drunk. And she’d kissed him.

Had he taken advantage of her compromised state? He tried to assure himself that he hadn’t. He’d pushed her away. He’d been the one to stop things before they went further. But he also couldn’t deny that he’d kissed her back. That he’d enjoyed kissing her back. And he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t spent the entire rest of the evening replaying the kiss in extreme detail, imagining what it could have been like if it had gone further.

Danse shook his head, ashamed at his own thoughts as he jogged back down the hill to Sanctuary.

The sun was beginning to melt away the heavy fog and by the time Danse had showered and donned his Brotherhood jumpsuit for the day, the haze was nothing but a distant memory.

There’s no avoiding it forever. I’ve got to go check on Nora, Danse thought to himself as he exited his home and stepped out into the streets of Sanctuary. Settlers were just starting to make their way to their assigned tasks for the day. Some held rifles to guard the perimeter while others grabbed gardening tools. Danse rolled his eyes as Hancock stumbled through the streets with a dazed smile on his face.

“Just getting in, Hancock?” Danse asked, the disapproval heavy in his voice.

“It’s my duty as mayor of Goodneighbor to check on my citizens every now and then,” Hancock replied, the lazy smile still on his scarred features.

“Funny how it’s only the patrons in The Third Rail you seem to check on,” Danse answered.

He hadn’t intended on harassing the Ghoul today. In all honesty, he was trying to be better. Mostly for Nora’s sake, but also because of his own revelation that he wasn’t as purely human as he’d always thought. Danse hated being a hypocrite. But purging his deeply ingrained prejudices from his mind was proving much more difficult than he wanted to admit.

“It’s not my fault I know how to have a good time, Danse,” Hancock said. “If you ever want to loosen the leash Maxson put on you, you’re welcome to join us.”

Danse shook his head at the Ghoul but didn’t respond. He knew he wouldn’t have anything kind to say. Instead, he made his way to Nora’s house, ignoring the stinging reminder from Hancock that he was no longer a member of the Brotherhood.

Standing in front of the door to Nora’s home, Danse squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and knocked. His body told him he needed to leave immediately, because whether or not she remembered the kiss, this interaction would be painful. Seeing her would remind him just how incredible it felt to kiss her… and that he couldn’t do it again. But he didn’t run. He stayed right where he was.

His heart hammered in his chest as the door knob turned, but it wasn’t Nora who greeted him. Instead, Deacon stood in the doorway wearing Nora’s old flowery apron over his usual T-shirt and jeans, raising his ginger eyebrows behind his sunglasses.

“Morning sunshine,” the spy said with a grin.

“Deacon?” Danse asked, his confusion slowly turning to anger as it always seemed to. He needed to work on that. “What are you doing in Nora’s house this early?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, soldier?” Deacon asked. “But a gentleman never kisses and tells.”

Danse set his jaw firmly as he stared at the man in front of him. He was already calculating how much physical damage it would do if he punched Deacon right then and there. The spy would live. But Nora would never forgive Danse. So he refrained.

“Oh man, I can see all those little Brotherhood cogs turning in your brain. It would be adorable if it wasn’t so sad,” Deacon said with a laugh. “At ease, soldier. I was totally kidding. Just wanted to get a rise out of you. I didn’t realize it would be quite so effective.”

Danse could hear the laughter in Deacon’s voice, but it was muted by the sound of his own blood rushing through his body.

He definitely needed to work on his anger management skills.

“Where is Nora?” Danse asked simply, refusing to acknowledge just how close he’d been to getting into a physical altercation with Deacon.

Danse was usually close to getting into a fight with Deacon, but the idea that the spy had slept with Nora was definitely the thing that would have pushed him over the edge… had it been true.

“I feel like out of the two of us, you’re the one who should know she headed over to the Prydwyn before dawn,” Deacon answered, turning around and heading back into Nora’s kitchen without another look in Danse’s direction.

The Paladin followed the spy and perched on one of the barstools at the counter.

Deacon, still wearing the flowery apron, was stirring mirelurk eggs in a frying pan.

“Nora went to the Prydwyn?” Danse asked, his mind trying to play catch up. “Why?”

“Personally, I don’t think she needs to keep things friendly with the Brotherhood of Bigots anymore now that The Institute is destroyed, but she said something about an open line of communication between the factions and blah, blah, blah.” Deacon shook his head. “Maxson said he wanted to meet with her about something or other. Probably wants to start a fun petition forbidding Ghouls from speaking or something.”

“Maxson asked for her?” Danse repeated. This gave him pause.

There was a time when Danse had worshipped Maxson. He’d thought the man could do no wrong. That was, of course, until Maxson had wanted him killed for being a Synth. Danse could understand the difficult position Maxson had been placed in, but after their years of friendship, he still had a hard time with just how quickly the Elder had turned on him.

He also saw the way Maxson looked at Nora when Danse had still been allowed aboard the Prydwyn. The Elder was young and Nora was beautiful. It only made sense that he’d look at her the way he did. But Danse didn’t like it, even though he was fairly certain the only reason he was still alive was because Nora had been the one to convince Maxson to spare him. Danse wasn’t sure anyone else could have swayed the Elder the way she did.

“Do I sense a love triangle? Because you know I love some juicy gossip,” Deacon said, grinning over at the Paladin and plopping some eggs onto a plate for him.

“That’s inappropriate, civilian,” Danse said, staring at the eggs in front of him and wondering why on earth Deacon would ever make him food. They hated each other.

“Hate to break it to you, tin can, but you’re a civilian now too,” Deacon said, taking a seat beside Danse with his own plate of eggs.

“You and I are not the same,” Danse emphasized, taking a bite out of the eggs. They were surprisingly good.

“You’re completely right,” Deacon agreed, though Danse could tell from his tone that he wasn’t going to like what came next. “I’ve been able to let go of my bigoted ways, while you still look at Hancock and Valentine like they’re Mirelurk scat on your boot.”

“That’s…” Danse began, but he didn’t know what to really say. Deacon wasn’t wrong. Danse wasn’t doing a great job of changing his deeply ingrained beliefs.

“Admitting you have a problem is the first step, champ,” Deacon said, with a soft pat on Danse’s shoulder.

It would have been a kind gesture, if the spy hadn’t immediately snorted from trying to hold back his laughter.

“I’m… trying,” Danse managed to say, even if it felt like injecting a Stimpack directly into his temple to utter the words.

Deacon glanced over at Danse for a moment, but it was hard for the Paladin to read his expression behind the sunglasses. He had to remind himself that this was probably the reason the spy always wore them.

“A good first step would be to actually spend some time with the people you hate,” Deacon offered, being surprisingly helpful. “You might find that you actually have some fun with Hancock. Plus, you and Valentine are a bit more alike than you might think. He’s a giant stick in the mud too.”

Danse huffed under his breath and simply said, “Noted,” before taking another bite of eggs.

The two men chewed in silence for a moment before the front door opened and Nora strode in wearing the all-black Brotherhood of Steel jumpsuit reserved for high-ranking officials.

Danse’s eyes involuntarily roamed over just how perfectly the jumpsuit fit her curves, though he immediately hated himself for the very visceral reaction the image gave him.

“Deacon Marie Jones! What are you doing in my apron?” Nora asked dramatically, walking up behind the spy and wrapping her arms around him in a familiar embrace.

This did nothing to lessen Danse’s animosity towards the spy.

“Your middle name is Marie?” Danse asked.

“I just make up names for him,” Nora replied. “Since he won’t tell anyone his real name.”

Deacon leaned backward into Nora’s embrace as she held him tightly before finally releasing him. Danse hated how casual their physical contact was. She wasn’t like that with the Paladin.

“I thought we agreed the apron looks better on me,” Deacon said.

“Everything looks better on you, Deacon,” Nora agreed with a laugh, walking over to the frying pan and scooping a few eggs for herself. “I bet even this ridiculous black jumpsuit would look better on you.”

Danse refrained from pointing out how false that statement was.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen someone look so good in a jumpsuit before.

“Give yourself some credit, Charmer,” Deacon said, his voice as smooth as ever. “There are only so many people who can pull off a dog collar.”

“It’s not a dog collar,” Danse mumbled, finding himself irrationally annoyed by the comment.

Nora’s lips quirked up into a grin as she set her plate down and walked over to Danse. The Paladin swiveled in his barstool to face her but he didn’t anticipate just how close she’d get to him. Nora walked right up to Danse, positioning herself between his knees as she grinned down at him.

Danse swallowed hard as his dark eyes met hers. She took one finger and hooked it under the metal ring at the neck of Danse’s Brotherhood uniform and gave it a soft tug. She didn’t manage to pull him closer from his sitting position, but it did cause her to take another step closer to him, now standing squarely between his thighs.

“What exactly would you call it then, Paladin?” Nora asked, raising a challenging eyebrow at him.

Danse felt like his heart might actually beat out of his chest as he stared up at her. She still had a firm grasp on the clasp at his neck and he worried she’d be able to visibly see the nervous way he swallowed.

“It’s… It’s an attachment for the Power Armor,” he managed to choke out.

He hated that Deacon was here to witness just how easily Nora could set him off balance.

“I guess your big brown puppy dog eyes just make the term ‘dog collar’ feel more fitting,” Nora answered with a smirk.

He could feel the heat of her hips against his thighs but tried with every fiber of his being to ignore it. Their close proximity was only making it more difficult for him to focus.

Thankfully, Nora released her grasp on the metal ring and stepped back around the counter to retrieve her eggs. “Thanks for the breakfast, Deeks,” Nora said casually, as if she hadn’t just upended Danse’s entire world.

“Just paying off my debt to society,” Deacon said, finishing his own plate off and rinsing it in the sink. “I should have never suggested that game of strip poker.”

Danse’s eyes widened at this comment but Nora just shook her head with a laugh.

“He bet me that I couldn’t convince a Diamond City guard to give me their uniform.”

“I didn’t take into account that she wouldn’t use stealth to get what she wanted,” Deacon said with a scowl. “I still think it’s cheating if you use your feminine wiles.”

“You’re just mad that you have to make me breakfast every Tuesday for a month,” Nora said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Deacon shook his head and grinned. “Well I’m off to go start some rumors around Diamond City that Piper is actually a Ghoul. Wish me luck.”

“You’ll need it,” Nora replied before the spy disappeared, leaving her and Danse alone.

Danse took a deep breath, wondering if he wanted to come right out and ask Nora if she remembered what had happened the night before, or if it would be better to just ignore it.

He decided on the coward’s way out.

“What did Maxson want?” Danse asked, trying to sound uninterested.

“Ugh, that man,” Nora began, exasperation heavy in her voice. “He wanted to try to convince me to pledge my exclusive loyalty to the Brotherhood again. But I told him, for the millionth time, I’m not going to abandon The Railroad or The Minutemen. There’s no reason we can’t all play nice.”

“I’m sure he loved that,” Danse answered, a genuine smile now playing on his lips.

“He threw a bit of a tantrum,” Nora agreed. “Luckily no one was around to see it. He had me meet him in his private quarters this time.”

Danse raised an eyebrow, still trying to pretend like he wasn’t incredibly interested in this particular point. “Oh?”

“I think he thought it might intimidate me if we were alone,” Nora laughed. “He poured me a drink, stood in front of his Brotherhood of Steel flag, and tried to look super intimidating.”

“And?”

“And it didn’t work,” Nora said, giving Danse one of the smiles that made her eyes crinkle in the corners while his heart melted into a puddle inside of him. “My affection isn’t that easily swayed.”

“Of course,” Danse responded simply.

He could feel Nora’s eyes on him as he looked back down at his now empty plate. He was running out of reasons to be in her kitchen but he wasn’t quite ready to leave yet.

“How are you feeling?” Danse began cautiously. “Do you have a headache from that bourbon last night?”

That was casual, right? That was something a totally normal friend would say whether or not they’d kissed the night before… wasn’t it?

“I had a bit of a headache this morning,” Nora began. She was pushing the eggs around on her plate with her fork but not taking a bite. Her eyes were no longer on Danse; now she seemed laser focused on the food in front of her. “I told you I wasn’t that drunk.”

Danse’s cheeks instantly flushed at her words.

She remembered.

She remembered and she really was lucid enough to know that she was kissing him.

What did that mean? Did he ask her about it? Did he ask if she regretted it or did he even dare to hope that she actually somehow felt something for him other than friendship or fondness?

“You can hold your liquor well,” was all the Paladin said, also staring intently at his own plate.

If anyone had walked by the scene in the kitchen, they’d think the two were Synths whose recall codes had been read to them.

The silence between them pressed on for a few moments before Nora softly cleared her throat.

“Listen, Danse… I’m sorry about what happened. You were totally right that I wasn’t thinking straight and… I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

Danse felt his entire chest tighten at her words.

She regretted it. She wished it hadn’t happened. He’d made her uncomfortable.

And now that he knew she remembered everything, he felt even worse for kissing her back. What could she possibly think of him now? That he was just like the rest of the Wastelanders; ready to take advantage of an inebriated woman at the drop of a hat?

What did he say to make this better?

“I’m… I shouldn’t have… engaged,” he said quietly. It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but Danse had never been good with things like emotions. Synth or not, talking about his feelings wasn’t something he ever thought he’d be comfortable with.

Danse dared a glance up at Nora who was still looking down at her plate. She was frowning with something like disappointment in her eyes.

“I should probably get changed out of this jumpsuit,” she said after another moment of awkward silence. “Preston has a place nearby that he wants me to check out to set up a possible settlement.”

“Of course,” Danse responded, a bit too quickly. “I’ve got some work to do on my power armor.”

Nora nodded as Danse stood up and made his way towards the door.

Before he touched the handle, he heard Nora’s voice, soft and hesitant.

“Would you… want to come with me?”

#fo4 #fallout #fallout 4 #danse #paladin danse #nora #sole survivor #fanfic #fallout fanfic #fallout fic #fallout 4 fanfic #fallout companions #danse x sole #danse x nora #danse x sole survivor

76 notes · View notes

butwhyduh · 3 years

Text

The Farm

Damian Wayne x Jon Kent

Summary: just 2 boys in love but won’t admit it. I have the attention span of a butterfly so this is as close as I get to a slow burn lmao. I just think they are adorable and I headcanon Damian as demisexual. I did actually age them above 18 but this is sfw. Only a little kissing. There’s a bigot but he gets punched.

“I heard about the farm,” Damian said as they sat on a rooftop in New York. “Sorry.” They were drinking milkshakes after saving the city. Well Jon was as Damian had a vegan smoothie instead.

“Yeah, they foreclosed,” Jon said, his bright blue eyes uncharacteristically stony. “Thanks. Just wasn’t expecting it is all.”

“You know I could help you.. financially. If you need,” Damian offered carefully. Jon shifted in his seat and took a drink of his shake.

“It’s not your job. I’ll figure out how to keep it. Don’t worry,” Jon said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Congrats on vet school. Not that it’s a surprise. You were top of your class.”

“Oh thanks. But seriously, I have no problem writing a check right now, Jon,” Damian emphasized. Jon stared at him silently. It was so tempting to let Damian solve his problems but that wasn’t the Kent way.

“I don’t know,” Jon said shifting uncomfortably. Damian noted that it wasn’t a no.

“I will be going to school in Metropolis in the fall. The farm in Smallville is a lot closer to the university than my place in Gotham,” Damian said hoping to come off as casual. Apparently not as Jon almost fell off the roof in shock.

“Live- with me,” he asked, his eyebrows rose quickly.

“Oh, I suppose. Yes, that is what I would be proposing,” Damian answered. Jon looked at him with wide eyes before clearing his throat and softening the look on his face to more neutral. Damian definitely wasn’t meaning ‘moving in’ moving in. He was just being practical. He wasn’t in love with Jon the same way Jon was head over heels for Damian since he was like 13.

“It would be practical for us both,” he said and Jon relaxed. Yep, normal Damian not thinking of the social meaning of his words.

“I don’t have a butler,” Jon warned. “And I sometimes forget to do laundry or dishes.”

“Then I will make a chore chart,” Damian answered and Jon’s heart soared a little at the domestics of it all. Jon nodded with a grin.

“So when do I get my roommate?” Jon asked lightly. Or what he hoped was lightly. His farm was saved and Damian was moving in. He was surprised he wasn’t levitating yet.

“I need to sell my apartment first. And pack,” Damian contemplated. “Also I need to buy the farm. I’ll need 4 days.”

“4?!? I mean- that’s fine,” Jon answered. He began immediately imagining all the work he needed to do before Damian could move in. “You work fast.”

“Yes, money talks,” Damian answered as if it was normal for a 20 year old to say. Jon nodded and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

True to his words, a moving truck showed up 4 days later. Jon had cleaned and organized everything, even scrubbing the walls and sweeping the barn. The workers quickly set up everything in the spare room just as Damian arrived.

Damian arriving was a sight Jon would never forget. Damian wore a black turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up and a tan pair of dress pants over shiny black leather shoes as he carried in a large paper bag of produce. Damian had grown so much from the tiny 13 year old Jon had first known. He was now a full inch taller than Jon and probably 10 lbs heavier. It was funny since Jon was the one currently running around as Superman.

Damian sat his bag on the kitchen counter and wiped sweat from his brow. Jon was much more casually dressed in old blue jeans and a white t shirt with a rolled up and open red plaid button down over it. An old blue baseball cap was thrown over backwards on his head and little curls stuck out.

“You brought food. You know this is a farm, right?” Jon said with a smile. “We’re kinda known for having food.”

“I brought food to cook tonight,” Damian said trying to be casual. He had actually taken far too long deciding on the perfect food for him and Jon to eat their first night as roommates.

“Are you cooking for me?” Jon said with a pleased smile. The moving company was leaving and it was just the two of them.

“Yes, I thought it would be a good start,” Damian said formally. “No need to be so happy. It’s just dinner.”

“Of course,” Jon said trying to straighten his face. But how could he when Damian was living with him and cooking for him? Impossible task.

Damian busied himself in the small kitchen, looking in every drawer and cabinet. He noted that in the dying evening light, it perfectly captured the sunset. That was something that people paid huge amounts to even glimpse from their place in Gotham and Jon got a 360 view everyday.

“Well I have to feed the animals but I’ll be back soon. Do you need anything before I go?” Jon said in the doorway to the kitchen. He had thrown on a pair of rubber boots.

“Tt, you dare care for animals without me?” Damian said with a frown.

“Well I just thought- I mean you can- but you’re cooking,” Jon sputtered and Damian smiled.

“I’m playing with you. I’ll see them tomorrow. Otherwise the meal will be ruined,” Damian said. Jon laughed and shook his head as he left.

Damian looked at the photos that lined the hallway, smiling as he saw pictures of Jon as a child. Jon holding a fish he caught. Jon swinging a baseball bat. Jon holding up one end of a tractor. Right above it was a young Clark Kent doing the same. Damian shook his head with a little smile. He would never admit it but he was head over heels for Jon. Had been for a few years now.

“That’s the first time I lifted a tractor,” Jon said beside him. “Dad was so proud.”

“I imagine,” Damian answered. Clark was such a sore subject for Jon. His father had only been presumed dead the year before. Jon took it hard. He didn’t speak but watched Jon from the corner of his eyes.

“He never wanted to force me to be Superboy. I practically begged him. He was scared it was too dangerous,” Jon said with a sad smile. They both walked in the kitchen and Damian finished the food. Damian brought it to the table just as Jon shyly brought out a bottle of wine.

“Mr Kent, where did you get that?” Damian said with a little smile.

“Actually there’s an entire wine cellar full of the good stuff. Your father is quite fond of giving wine as a gift and Dad never liked to drink. So he stored it here,” Jon said pulling out a wine opener. “I thought we could drink it for him.”

“That’s very illegal,” Damian said expertly opening the bottle. “We’re both technically underage.”

“Anything is legal with enough money,” Jon said with a little grin and Damian laughed.

I’m an awful influence,” Damian replied. They spend the rest of the night eating and drinking wine before both crashing in their separate rooms in the early morning.

Jon crawled out of bed only a few hours later to feed the animals and get started on his day. He thanked his Kryptonian DNA for the lack of hang over he worried Damian would have. He crept quietly past his roommate’s door on his way out.

Jon returned a few hours later, still rather early, and was surprised by the smell of coffee. Damian was cooking breakfast for him. For them, Jon reminded himself. Damian was just his roommate. Damian nodded and poured Jon a cup of coffee.

“I thought you would still be asleep,” Jon admitted.

“I don’t require much sleep. Plus I want a tour of the property,” he said. Practical Damian as always, Jon thought.

“Sure, I’ll take you around. The farm and then town,” Jon added taking a huge plate of scrambled tofu and fried tomatoes. Damian had anticipated that.

“That’s a good plan. I don’t want to stand out in town. Should I wear a plaid shirt,” Damian asked.

“Uh, yeah. If you want. T shirts and jeans are fine too,” Jon said.

“May i borough these clothing from you? Mine are not appropriate for a farm,” Damian said casually and Jon willed himself to not have any emotion that Damian was going to wear his clothing.

Damian was extremely handsome in Jon’s plaid shirt and a pair of jeans. His bright green eyes and tan skin popped in the shirt and he had brushed his black hair neatly back as it had gotten long enough to fall in his eyes. Jon couldn’t help but stare at his Damian in his clothing. Logic be damned.

“What?” Damian asked looking at himself. “Does it look bad? I don’t want to appear foolish,” he said about to pull off the plaid shirt.

“No! No you look good. Nice,” Jon said and Damian’s lip twitched towards a smile.

“Thank you. Would you like to show me town first? Before we get muddy,” Damian said.

“Sure, that sounds good. I need to pick up feed anyways,” Jon said. They loaded into Jon’s old pickup. Krypto hopped into Damian’s lap as if he always had done it and they set off to town a few miles away.

“Here’s the library and the best Waffle House in Kansas. Second only to Ma Kent’s,” Jon said as they drove around. He showed Damian all the important sights in town. Damian had a hard time believing that everything was so compact and so small. Even the diner that Jon said they would eat lunch because they had the best pie short of Ma Kent.

They both, and Krypto, got out at the feed store and they treated Jon like old friends. He grabbed a basket and pushed it to the back as he chatted about all the interesting animals people owned to Damian. The Ferguson’s owned a pair of alpacas and old Skipper Smith had a parrot and monkey as pets.

Jon didn’t pay any attention as he easily lifted 4 50 lb bags of feed and casually put 200 lbs of feed in the basket. Damian looked around to see no one near. Jon did it again.

“Should get us through the week,” he said with a grin.

“You do know that most people don’t pick up 4 at once?” Damian told him quietly as they moved to the register. Jon stopped before nodded and laughing.

“You know I’ve never thought about it. Let’s get going before the diner gets a lunch rush,” he said. Jon tried to act more normal putting up the feed bags but tossing them one handed like bags of bread into the bed of a pick up truck was far from normal. Damian couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

The diner had about 12 booths and a row across the counter like old times. It probably was an older restaurant with the light blue tile and actual jukebox. Damian didn’t know what rush hour could possibly look like with all 7 people he’d seen since entering town but Jon seemed pleased to be earlier than them.

An older lady laid down a menu between them both and offered them coffee with a big grin. Jon ordered a chicken fried steak and Damian ended up getting the waffles. It was the only thing probably vegetarian on the menu.

“Oh shoot, I forgot you don’t eat meat. Sorry. Should I change my order,” Jon said raising his hand.

“No,” Damian said grasping Jon’s hand and pulling it down to the table. Jon’s heart just about beat out of his chest. “It’s fine. You don’t have to change what you eat for me.”

“Okay,” Jon said and the waitress came back to the table with drinks and eyed Damian’s hand on Jon’s.

“This your new partner, Kent,” she asked and Jon noted the judge tone to her voice as she sat down their glasses. Homophobia was still alive in the country. Damian didn’t notice.

“Yes, I just moved in last night,” Damian answered and Jon was frozen in time. Damian doesn’t understand what he means, Jon thought. He can’t.

“Oh, is that right? Took off to the city and brought back a city slicker. Well, each to their own,” she said with a passive aggressive smile. Jon sighed as she walked away. He didn’t know how to explain that to Damian. Was Damian even gay? Too late now. The whole town thought he was.

After eating their meal, Jon asked the waitress for pie to go. The diner had filled up and far too many people were glancing at the pair. Damian assumed it was because he was new in town or possibly they recognized him as a Wayne. Jon knew it was that he had brought home a man. Damian also didn’t quite pass as white with his tan skin and Arabic features so probably a dash of racism too.

Jon drive down to the park at the edge of town and parked by the pond. He put on a nice face but worried that Damian wouldn’t have as easy time in Smallville as Jon hoped.

“Something on your mind, Kent,” Damian said, sitting on the back hatch of the truck watching, the ducks swim.

“Nothing. Maybe I’m a little tired. Should have gone to bed earlier last night,” he said with a laugh. Damian looked at him out the corner of his eye but said nothing and continued eating his pie.

“This pie is made with quality,” Damian said and Jon smiled.

“Better than Alfred’s?”

“Different. Alfred makes amazing meat pies but he never quite understood American pies,” Damian answered. Jon nodded.

“I have to work the rest of the week,” he warned Damian.

“I have plenty of paperwork to keep me busy,” Damian answered. Jon knew he never had to worry about Damian that way. He always kept busy. This was probably his longest break.

The next 3 weeks consisted of getting up early to care for the animals before Jon left to work at the local paper. Damian would jog 3 miles down the dirt road that the Kent farm sat at the end of. By the end of the first week, a few of the neighbors would even wave at him. Jon counted himself as having the will of a Green Lantern to leave before Damian returned every morning. Damian was a sight to behold in his post workout glow pre-shower. He would come home and most of the time Damian was cooking dinner for him. Jon was really falling for the domestics of it all.

“Don’t get used to it, Kent,” Damian warned after Jon complimented an amazing dish Damian made. “Once school starts I can not act as a housewife to you.”

“You aren’t- Dami, you’re far from a housewife,” Jon sputtered. “I know that Flamebird has been seen in metropolis a few times this week alone.”

“Well, I needed to keep busy,” Damian said with a shrug. “Eat your eggplant.”

“I’ve probably eaten more vegetables this week than I have since I would summer with Ma,” Jon said. “But this is pretty good.”

“You’re welcome,” Damian said with a pleased smile. After dinner they sat on the swing on the porch and swung as they watched the sunset like an old married couple. Damian looked at Jon more often than he needed to as they talked about nothing. Jon was so pretty in the golden light. His bright blue eye and freckles looked adorable to Damian.

“And then in August we harvest-“ Jon had been saying before Damian cupped his face and pushed his lips against Jon’s. It was rough and their teeth clanged together and Jon pulled back with an “ow.”

“Shit,” Damian said, moving to get up. “I shouldn’t have- forget I-“

“Wait,” Jon said and Damian froze. He looked so uncertain and Jon had never seen that before. “Can we- can we try again?”

“You don’t have to pity me,” Damian said curtly, getting up. “Forget I did that. I apologize,” he said going inside.

Jon sat for a minute in shock. He had been in love with Damian forever and Damian finally kissed him and he couldn’t even enjoy it. Jon went inside and stood in front of Damian’s door. His hand tentatively considered knocking but Jon couldn’t do it. Just as he turned to walk away, Damian opened his door.

“I have to go to Gotham,” he said suddenly.

“What? If it’s me, you don’t have to leave,” Jon said quickly.

“No. My brothers need me,” Damian said and Jon noticed he had his suit on under his clothing.

“Do I need to come?”

“No. It’s okay. I’ll be back later this week hopefully,” Damian said dashing outside. The screen door swung and slapped the doorframe loudly. Jon ran on the porch.

“Week?” He called as Damian’s car pulled out the drive.

Jon fretted and obsessively watched the news everyday. Krypto was getting anxious without his 3 mile jog every morning. Late on the fourth day after Damian left, Jon heard the front door open. He raced to the door. Damian looked weary and had a slight limp.

“Hi,” Jon said looking Damian over and Damian offered a tired smile. Nothing broken. “Do you need help?”

“No. I need to sleep and I will be fine,” Damian said stubbornly. Jon rolled his eyes and helped him to his bed.

“Do you need anything?”

“No thank you. I will probably sleep late tomorrow,” Damian warned.

“Sure. Of course,” Jon said slowly closing the door as Damian fell asleep. Jon barely slept that night and got up early and called out of work for the day. Damian got up uncharacteristically late around 10 am.

“How are you?” Jon asked, offering him coffee. Damian took the drink before sitting next to Jon. He had a black eye and that limp was still around. The sun shone in bright in the kitchen and Damian was once again reminded the vast difference between smallville and Gotham.

“I’m fine. Thanks,” he said quietly. Jon didn’t want to pounce Damian the first second he got home but it was very hard to not want to talk about the kiss.

“You got mail,” Jon said, handing Damian a big Manila envelope that had come in the day before. Damian wordlessly opened it as he sipped coffee.

“Oh it’s yours,” he handed it over to Jon. Jon opened it with a confused look.

It was a deed. The Kent farm deed. The Kent farm deed in Jon’s name. He looked up at Damian who had a tired half smile.

“It’s in my name. You put it in my name,” he said. “W-why?”

“It’s the Kent farm. There’s too many things with the Wayne name on it,” he shrugged. “Plus I’m far from a farmer. It should be yours.”

“God Damian,” Jon said with tears in his eyes. He pulled Damian into a hug who squawked a protest that Jon ignored. “Thank you. I can’t- thank you,” he said wetly. Damian ignored how Jon was quietly crying on him. His grandma and dad passing had affected him hard and Damian knew he was crying over more than a house and land.

“You’re welcome,” Damian finally whispered and Jon cried even harder. Damian softly pat his back awkwardly. Jon leaned back but didn’t let Damian go. He gazed at Damian with the softest look.

“God Damian,” Jon repeated. “Do you even know how much I love you?”

Damian froze and just blinked at Jon who had pulled back but not out of the hug. “What?” He simply said and Jon’s face started to contort in pain. “Hold on,” Damian said and Jon warily looked at him. Damian knew he had to lean in or Jon would take it back and Damian would be too scared to do anything until Jon did this again. And he wasn’t sure how long Jon would wait.

Damian gently cupped Jon’s face in his hands and Jon breathed in quickly. Damian was clearly nervous. Damian noted how his face was soft and his skin warm. This time he gently bent over and softly pressed his lips against Jon’s. Jon quickly reacted by leaning in toward Damian. Jon could feel the rough pads of Damian’s fingers and taste the coffee Damian had been drinking. After a short while, Damian pulled back but not away.

“I truly care for you too,” he said softly and Jon grinned. “I’ve cared for you for a long time.”

“Same,” Jon said before leaning in to kiss Damian again. Damian kissed for another few seconds before pulling back again. This time Jon tried to follow his lips before stopping. Jon’s breath was erratic and fast. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“No. It’s okay. I’ve just never- I’ve never“ Damian started a bit lost for words. Jon understood what he meant.

“You’ve never been with a man,” Jon said gently.

“I’ve never taken the time for relationships with anyone. I’ve always been too busy,” Damian admitted. He played with the edge of a napkin nervously. He would never openly admit to being worried that his lack of experience was a flaw.

“We can go slow. Whatever you want,” Jon said and he finally looked at Damian the way he had never let himself before: like he was in love with him. Damian nodded.

“I’ve just never found anyone that interesting. I mean, beside you. After a while. I wanted to throw you off a bridge at first,” Damian said and Jon smiled.

“I know. You told me,” Jon said. “We should go out to eat. There’s a place downtown that has vegan options.”

“I didn’t even know there was a downtown here,” Damian admitted and Jon laughed.

“It’s a small town. Not a hut in the woods.”

The place wasn’t ‘rush hour’ packed but had plenty of tables with patrons. Damian and Jon sat at a booth and Damian almost couldn’t handle the lovey way Jon was looking at him. Jon was staring at Damian like he was the moon, even though Damian stood out like a sore thumb in the rural town in his turtleneck and dress slacks. But that was his comfort clothing and he had given up on fitting in long ago.

“I’m going to the restroom. Order for me?” Damian asked and Jon nodded. As Damian walked towards the back of the restaurant, a man in a brown jacket and rubber boots purposefully shoved Damian with his shoulder as he walked by. Damian turned to glare at him.

“Sorry, didn’t see any fruitcakes around here,” the guy said and Damian bristled. Before he could make a scene, Jon moved over to them.

“Hi Tyler. Do we have a problem here?” Jon said uncharacteristically cold. That guy didn’t realize that he picked the worst pair to insult. Tyler looked between Damian and Jon before deciding the fight wasn’t worth it.

“Nothing worth it,” Tyler said turning around. “Bad enough to bring a fruitcake to town, it had to a brown one too,” he muttered and Damian stiffened. He knew that he got looks when he went into town. He was probably the only person that spoke more than English or Spanish in town and certainly the only one to speak Arabic.

But before Damian could do anything else but feel disgust, Jon had punched the guy in the face. Well it was more of a flick with his fist but the guy went down like a rock. Damian hid his smile as him and Jon were hurried out of the restaurant with their food to go by a worried waitress who apologized to the pair.

As they walked back to the pickup truck, Damian reached out and grabbed Jon’s hand who lit up almost instantly. Damian ignored the butterflies in his stomach as he walked. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Jon either.

“You know, it’s not everyday that a guy gets Superman to defend his honor,” Damian said quietly but playfully and Jon laughed.

“Can’t handle bigots. I’ll let you punch the next one,” Jon said with a shrug.

“I would have punched that one,” Damian answered. He turned and pulled Jon to face him before taking his free hand that wasn’t carrying a bag. Damian gently cupped Jon’s face to place a kiss on Jon’s lips before going back to walking. Jon had a stupid smile all the way back home.

#Damian Wayne x Jon kent #Damian Wayne #damijon #mlm dc fanfic #Jon kent #robin x Superboy #Damian is flamebird and Jon is Superman #Jon kent x Damian Wayne #fns pride edition

160 notes · View notes

yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

difficult | myg

pairing: min yoongi x oc

genre: fluff, mini angst, super cute, mutual pining

words: 3, 812

summary: you're difficult and yoongi just wants you

“I can’t believe it,” Jimin whistles. Taehyung mirrors his sentiment but with a look of disbelief.

“Me neither. But here we are.” Taehyung states matter-of-factly.

You were silent, not because you had nothing to say—but because you couldn’t believe it either. How did you allow yourself to fall into this trap? A trap you’ve spent your entire life training to avoid. And you would consider yourself someone that was dedicated to their craft and you truly were. But you were still susceptible to guilty pleasures and you just found your match.

“Why is no one stopping me? Why isn’t anyone telling me to get a grip of myself?” You cry.

Jimin looks at you sympathetically even if he knows that you hated being pitied. Taehyung at least avoids your gaze but the tell-tale signs of a frown appear on his face when you see the furrow of his brows.

“You know … you’re allowed to feel this way, right?” Jimin says carefully and you were more annoyed with the fact that he was walking on eggshells with you when you’ve long passed that stage of prudent navigation around each other. And you knew exactly why he sounded the way he did.

“I’m not. I’m supposed to be an impenetrable fortress that cannot be shaken by anything let alone anyone. I am an unyielding, resolute woman that refuses to be tied down by society’s narratives.” You say all at once.

Jimin and Taehyung blink at you. They expected this—but it still surprised them that you vocalised their thoughts.

Jimin clears his throat.

“Let me rephrase that,” He says sternly, “You’re allowed to feel, period.”

You shake your head because you’ve fallen too far—too hard. And you needed to get a grip of yourself because you didn’t work hard perfecting the flawless expression of bitchiness and temptation to be taken seriously amongst a Board of Directors filled with men. People like you couldn’t afford to feel.

Especially when the world never feels for you. For women.

“Do you hear yourself Jimin?” You exasperate as you throw your hands in the air in frustration.

“____—” Taehyung attempts to reason with you, but as always, you never let him get a word in. He knows you don’t mean any malice because you’ve built your walls so high that you think everyone is out to get you—but he just cares about you. He wishes you’d let him.

“No. You don’t understand guys. People like me? We—I—can’t afford to slack off. Not now and not anytime soon. I hear you guys and I wish I could understand where you’re coming from but frankly, I won’t ever be able to. You have the liberty of picking your battles because this world is yours. I had to fight my battles on my own to claim this world as my own and I’m nowhere near deserving of that role yet. I can’t feel.”

Their eyes soften at you and you avoid their gazes. You didn’t want their pity, and you didn’t want to sit in a tight office with their stares so heavy on your own.

“You deserve to be happy,” Taehyung says sadly.

You don’t respond, but you hear the chairs in front of your desk move against the hardwood floor. Then, you hear the opening and closing of your doors and you’re finally alone. Like how you do best.

You don’t allow another thought as insignificant as the one that threatens to overtake you to pass through your mind as you quickly tend to your pending projects.

The name of a certain man lingers very vaguely, though.

It annoys yet terrifies you how much you needed to consciously play your cards just right when you step into another board meeting. You thrived when you spoke at the podium, and no man—even the most bigoted—could deny that you were a born leader. But that didn’t mean that they liked that fact. In fact, most of them despised the idea that a woman as young as you was even allowed in the same room as they were. You wished you could yell at them, cry and shout until they understood that you were deserving.

You couldn’t, for very obvious reasons. But until you could—you needed to be smart.

“Mr Lee, with all due respect—liquifying the compartment company will not bring us the projected profit that you’ve pitched in the previous meeting.”

You’re level-headed and cool when you attempt to reason with the older and very stubborn man. He was old, and stubborn, which was never good news for you.

Mr Lee, the Chairman’s younger brother, simply scoffs at you, and you try your best not to let your eye twitch.

“What? Do you have a bachelor’s degree in business?” He sneers.

You blink.

“I have a double Masters in Business Administration and Finance.”

Mr Lee stiffens, and you briefly see Seokjin, the fellow nephew of Mr Kim, holding back his snorts at your declaration.

“I am qualified to be making this statement, and if you don’t believe in just words—which you really shouldn’t—here are the documents and projections from my end.” You distribute the analysis you took upon yourself to complete over the weekend and worked overtime to finish it as you handed it around the table.

Mr Kim, the Chairman, who was a far better man than everyone else in the Board of Directors, offers you an impressed smile as he flips through your booklet while you stand straight with your shoulders rolled back. A stance you often took to show that you knew your shit.

“This is very … meticulous. Great work as always, ___.” Mr Kim compliments you.

You don’t let it show on your face but you’re pleased with the way Mr Lee grumbles under his breath like a petulant child.

“Very well. We’ll keep the compartment company as it is,” Mr Kim declares and everyone else in the room shuffles to collect their belongings as the meeting comes to an end, “Meeting adjourned.”

“You’re absolutely badass,” Jin whistles at you as you walk side-by-side, your folders snug against your chest.

You hide your smile but acknowledge it regardless.

“And you were … there. As usual.”

He snorts and you know he gets where you’re coming from. Jin was simply present at the meeting but he wasn’t actually present. His heart had no place in the business world but instead in a world filled with fine dining and diverse cuisines as he worked up a storm in the kitchen. But as every father—who is the Chairman of a country’s largest exporter—he had pushed that dream onto Jin from a young age.

But Jin was Jin, and you knew Mr Kim simply kept him here for the sake of it; fully aware of his son’s aspirations and determination of becoming a chef.

“You should just take my position. You’re so good at business talk—I didn’t understand half the shit you were saying the entire time.” He says.

You shrug.

“I mean, that’s the goal. But let’s just see for now,” You hum as you reach your office, and you still when you see the person waiting for you inside.

Jin takes a peek over your shoulder and spots the same person who has you looking so tense. He whistles at you as he stuffs his right hand in his pocket while offering you a consoling pat on your shoulder with his left before he stalks off.

“Good luck!” He calls out, and you internally groan at the oncoming interaction.

You brace yourself and put on a brave face as you step into your office, doors clicking, signalling your guest to turn around at the insinuation of your presence.

“Mr Min, what can I help you with?” You don’t look at him when you place your belongings on your table and you nearly miss his scoff with the way you attempt to busy yourself with any mindless activity that you can find on your desk.

“Mr Min? Not Yoongi anymore?”

You ignore his bitter tone and look at him with a reserved stare, raising an eyebrow as if to question his statement.

“Are we not co-workers?” You reply coolly and he scoffs much louder for you to hear.

“Co-workers … yeah,” He shrugs, leaning forward, “Do you usually kiss your co-workers?”

You are still at the sudden declaration and nearly drop the pen that was in your grip. He’s suddenly inches closer to you despite the relative distance of your desk between the both of you. You try to ignore the heat of his body, but it’s entirely too suffocating for you to pretend like he isn’t there.

“Don’t give me that nonsense,” You wave him off and you steady your voice because you weren’t ready for him to see you break. You allowed yourself too much space to be vulnerable and you needed to stop.

He sits back into the chair and folds his arms across his chest with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, this is not what we’re going to do.” He says, suddenly much firmer than he was a moment ago.

“I’m sorry?” You ask, clearly confused.

“None of this detached, emotionless attitude with me. I see through this facade and it’s not cute. You’re going to speak to me like an adult and address the very obvious feelings you have for me, and likewise. You’re not allowed to deflect like you always do because I expect you to be honest with me because you’re clearly not being honest to yourself.”

You blink up at him and your heart starts beating more rapidly within your chest as it betrays your stoic appearance.

Maybe that was why you fell for Yoongi in the first place. He didn’t tolerate you. Specifically, the shit that you pull on him. You were well aware you were a stubborn, hard-headed bitch that could be emotionally reserved 99% of the time when you interacted with others. And sometimes your bitchiness was uncalled for, but most people were too terrified to say anything about it to your face.

Yoongi?

He had no problems letting you know what he expected from you and how he thought of you from the beginning. It should’ve irked you. Based on your strict line of principles that you upheld—a man projecting his own thoughts of you that he had in his head, directly to you, should’ve been dehumanising, disrespectful even. But you never got that from Yoongi. He was brutally honest. And you appreciate honesty.

But sometimes it made you squirm.

“I … sorry, what? Are you insane? I don’t have feelings for you.” You narrow your eyes at him and hope you sound convincing enough.

But you knew Yoongi well enough to know that he saw through your blatant lie.

“I said: don’t deflect. You’re deflecting.” He scolds.

“You’re being unnecessarily distasteful right now,” You roll your eyes.

“Am I? Or am I just telling you the truth that you’ve been trying to deny for the past week that you’ve been cowardly avoiding me?” He’s calm when he makes the accusation. And it wasn’t even an accusation because it was the plain truth.

You burn, both in anger and in humiliation.

“What do you know about me Yoongi? Aren’t I just the company’s hot-headed bitch?” You snap, remembering the first words you heard from Yoongi.

“You are a hot-headed bitch, and I know you’re scared of admitting that you have feelings for me because you think feeling makes you weak.”

You ignore the fact that he admitted that you were a bitch, but Yoongi wasn’t the type to lie, nor was he the type to kiss ass. And you hated that he was still brutally honest, even when speaking about a topic so … intimate.

“Look, I don’t know where you’re getting this information from but you need to leave.” You stand up to walk towards the door so you could open it for him but he grabs your wrist before you make it there.

He turns you around to look at him. Properly look at him, that is. You’ve been avoiding direct eye contact with him because as good of a front you’ve worked on to put in front of him, you were human. And as a human, you were bound to have a weakness.

“You don’t get to walk away from me—this conversation—because you hate confrontation,” He frowns at you and you turn away to avoid his heavy gaze.

“Yoongi, can we not do this?” You sigh.

He chuckles dryly, using his right hand to nudge your face to look at him. It should’ve been demeaning, but you felt nothing like you were disrespected. You hated to admit it but you liked it. You liked it a lot more than you’d admit to anyone.

“No. We’re doing this. You’re going to address your feelings for me and actually work for what you want—and that’s clearly this,” He gestures between the two of you and you glare up at him.

“I told you! I don’t have any feelings for you.” You snarl at him, teeth bared like an animal but he just laughs at you like you were pathetic. You hated how small you felt in his presence but yet you were still whole.

“You don’t kiss a person you don’t have feelings for—you don’t hold someone you don’t have feelings for like they’re your safe space. You don’t have feelings for me? That’s funny because you did all of those things and you’ve never once complained when I reciprocated.”

You fumble with your words as the tip of your ears burn a bright red, which Yoongi easily catches.

“You don’t turn into a tomato if I was lying to you. You’re not like that, right? You’re self-assured. Ms-I’m-An-Impenetrable-Fortress,” He mocks.

“S-Stop acting as if you know me, Yoongi. You don’t and you never will.” You struggle against his grip on your wrist but he simply tugs you closer until your faces are inches apart.

“I don’t?” He scoffs, “Then tell me, why do I know that you confide Jimin and Taehyung for advice but never take it anyway because you’re too damn stubborn?”

You were about to retort but he’s quicker with his response.

“Then tell me, why do I know that you walk with your head held high into meetings but exit with your tail tucked between your legs because you’re afraid of sounding too dumb, too incompetent?”

You freeze.

“Then tell me, why do I know that you pull away from people not because you’re repulsed by them but because you’re afraid of forming actual bonds in the fear of being abandoned?”

You internally curse when you fear your eyes burning, and the lump in your throat becoming too much to bear.

“Then tell me, ___, why do I know you feel the same way about me but you’re too scared of looking dependent to do anything about it?” He whispers the last part when he pulls you tight against his chest.

You don’t fight him anymore, and you relax into the firm expanse of his chest and it terrifies you that it feels so much like home. A warm space you find comfort in.

You don’t even realise the first tear escapes your eyes until you feel Yoongi’s dress shirt turn slightly damp under the skin of your cheek. You’re mortified when you realise you’re crying and you attempt to pull away but his hands find their way around your waist to hold you tight.

“Don’t,” He whispers, “Don’t pull away from me.”

“Yoongi … I-I can’t,” You stutter, voice shaky.

He wipes a thumb on your cheek to wipe away the continuous stream of tears that you don’t bother hiding from him anymore.

“I worked my ass off to be taken seriously here and—and … if I get a boyfriend they’re going to think that I’m reliant, I’m weak, dependent on a man.” You ramble, but he just listens to your nonsensical statement as he rubs soothing circles on your head.

“I want you to rely on me, to depend on me. Stop thinking that you need to fight your battles alone. I’m here—I’ll be here. I’ve always been here but you need to let me be there for you.” He says softly.

You peer up at him with swollen eyes and he thinks you look beautiful. You always were beautiful. When you were commanding a meeting; when you were focused when you were angry; when you were laughing, and when you were sad. He was in for all of it.

“But ... the Board of Directors—”

He shushes you with a light kiss to the corner of your lip and you feel your stale heart flutter.

“I’m not here to be your saviour. I’m here to be your equal. I want to help you as much as you’ll help me. And believe me when I say you’ve helped me. The Board of Directors? Relationship or no relationship, they’ll be the same bigots that unfortunately dictate the policies in this company. The only person that has the ability to change anything in this situation is you ___.”

You feel your resolve breaking but you should’ve known that you’ve never had any resolve when it came to Yoongi. You were always weak around him. And maybe you needed to start accepting the fact that you were allowed to feel weak, to feel dependent on someone.

“What if you leave me.” You whine.

He snorts before rubbing a thumb between your furrowed brows.

“Then I leave. But we don’t know what’s going to happen if we don’t try,” He says and you realise how close he’s gotten to you to the point you feel his breath on your lips.

“That’s not comforting to hear the slightest,” You complain.

“And nothing about a relationship is easy. But I’m willing to be with you. I’ve always been ready—it’s you that needs to make the decision, ___.”

You finally lock eyes with him and you see nothing but sincerity. Yoongi could be crass, and often mistaken as a dick. But he was just honourable. He wouldn’t lie to anyone or sugarcoat the difficult truth. In fact, he never made you feel inferior to him even when he was straightforward. He never treated you differently because you were terrifying—but he treated you how he would with anyone else. And that was comforting. While everyone else walked on eggshells with you, he was fearless with his declarations.

Even now.

“I like you. I have no qualms in admitting it. And I’ll say it over and over again until you believe me,”

You don’t reply but kiss him. And there are no explosive fireworks, and time still flows—but it feels familiar. It feels like a territory that you’ve known all along, a little rough around the edges with the time spent away, but a place you can allude to comfort.

He responds by licking into the seam of your mouth as you allow his tongue to lick behind your teeth, a small whine caught in the back of your throat as you card your fingers through his hair. The hands-on your waist presses you tighter, flush against his body.

He pulls away first, resting his forehead on your own.

“I need to hear you say it. None of this tip-toeing anymore.”

You offer him a small smile.

“I-I …”

He watches you stutter with a hooded gaze but nothing about his stare makes you feel pressured. It was more comforting than anything, and the way he still held onto you like you mattered—but weren’t fragile—allowed you some semblance of peace in retaining your identity. This arbitrary idea of what you thought you were and how people perceived you. It was difficult to unlearn an idea that felt very personal to you after years of mastering its art.

You’re still unsure of how to react but you’re so sure of how you feel.

“I like you. I-I want to try.” You wail.

He’s alarmed by the sudden change in tone from your end and at the way you tug at the collars of his shirt. Not aggressively, but a little desperate. Not in the way that’d make him scrunch his nose in distaste but in a way that told him that this was you being vulnerable. Being open.

He wipes at your cheeks with dried tears and looks at you so honestly that it scares you. But in a way, you were fearless because you were terrified of everything. Mostly of disappointing others who held you to such a high standard, but it was a valid fear regardless.

“I’m not some fragile woman that you need to fix and I want you to understand that,” You pull yourself together and tell him sternly. He listens because Yoongi has never been presumptuous.

“I’m my own person and I won’t change the way I act to be with you—and if you’re looking for a cute … dainty, soft girlfriend then…” You whisper, “That’s not me. I’m tough. I’m a bitch and I’m stubborn. Our arguments are going to suck because I have a response for literally everything so—!”

He shushes your rambling with a finger to your lips and a raised eyebrow. You pout at him under his finger and he finds you adorable. He decides to not say anything to preserve his head—but soon. He’ll tell you soon.

“Are you done?”

You huff under his finger but he looks at you fondly.

“I’m not one for normality. I don’t care about what you think I’m into because I know that I’m into you. I’m in this, ___. Stop thinking that I deserve some idealistic image of a woman that you have in your head. I want you, and I thought me coming here to speak to you about your feelings was a clear testament to that.”

You try to hide your blush but you fail.

“And stop being so conscious of how you act around me. Be tough. Be independent. But don’t be afraid to be cute and vulnerable too, okay? I like you in all ways that you decide to present yourself in. Just … trust me. Trust this.”

“Okay.” You nod.

He grins at you.

“Does that mean I can hold your hand on the way to work?” He teases.

You avoid his eyes and look to the side, but the slight curve of your lip gives your answer to that question away.

“I guess …” You mutter.

He hugs you closer and squeezes you until your feet leave the ground. He tackles you with kisses all over your face and you can’t help but giggle. You feel happy. You feel secure.

“Cutie.”

You deliver a smack to his chest but he just laughs.

#bts fic #bts imagine #bts fics #bts imagines #bts #bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi #yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi fic #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi x reader

334 notes · View notes

bitchesgetriches · 3 years

Note

Hi bitches, I'm a bit nervous to ask this but I'm being genuine I promise. I don't want you to think I'm some biggoted old fool.

Could you please help me understand how sex work isn't exploitative? I hear a lot of people saying "it's just the same as normal work, it's better than my job at Amazon/target/wherever and no one is calling that work exploitative" or "well you wouldn't do YOUR job if you didn't have to either" but like, checkout work IS hella exploitative??? Most work IS hella bullshit that only exists to feed the capitalist machine. I DO fight for a world where work is a choice. I understand why The Right would love onlyfans, but why is The Left lining up to defend it?

Sex work - especially things like onlyfans - is overwhelmingly done by the poor or as a way to escape poverty ("I was being paid shit in my previous job, now I can afford an apartment" is something I hear a lot). But in doing so it transfers all the risks to them, it's essentially turning sex work into the gig/hustle economy, isn't it? You end up on a zero hour contract with no union, health, benefit, maternity protection, in a job that can be hella dangerous and have serious emotional repercussions and requires huge emotional labour and/or disconnect and I don't really understand why we're just cheering this along?

I don't object on moral grounds. Sex is sex. Consenting adults do what you want. People are well within their moral and legal rights to choose to sell sex, (or the emotional labour that comes with it), or photos, or whatever they want - just like they are free to go work for target. I absolutely understand the need to - and support - decriminalisation of sex work, the need to make it safe and secure for sex workers, but I just can't see why ~the world at large~ sees huge numbers of young 18 year old women being herded and encouraged into joining Onlyfans - in several cases with people saying "can't wait for you to turn 18 so you can have an OF" so the patriarchy can pay £3-4 a month to see their tits and people cheer this along? One or two get rich, I'm sure, but who is getting REALLY rich? It's the old white men that own onlyfans and take a 20% cut, as always. It's the patriarchy working as it always has. Allowing one or two women to succeed while holding the rest down for exploitation. Except now it's mixing with the worst bits of 21st C capitalism, too. Surely all OnlyFans is is Uber for Sex work, using the gig economy to de-unionise and isolate workers, strip them of benefits, make them into independent contractors and profit off them?

Sure, it's a step up from kidnapping girls from Romania to have them do porn, but is that really the bar? Can we maybe just stop for a second and imagine a world where rich white men don't get richer off the emotional and physical labour of women? Where the other available work options aren't so shit that a zero-hour career with no employment protections, a limited lifespan, in a dangerous industry doesnt look like heaven in comparison? Sure, you can work for three years, sell your emotional labour, and pay for college. But why are we cheering that instead of asking why this has to happen in the first place? We're fiddling around the edges of the system, giving it a makeover, and rebadging it "female empowerment" instead of actually changing anything fundamental. Poor women sell sex. A few are allowed to break out. Men get to leer at naked women for pennies a year. Rich men get richer. Plus ça change. Not even to mention that because of the ~emotional~ connection that onlyfans gives beyond porn, we're embedding the idea that women are "money in, girlfriend out" machines. I know several girls that won't even *talk* to men in any situation without a minimum $50 fee. And apparently the fact we also have a crisis of men so lonely they're willing to pay this isn't a problem either? Where's our luxury communism dreams bitches?

Bitches, I trust you. What am I missing?

I don’t think you’re a bigoted old fool. Nor a prude! I think you’re incredibly enlightened about the dangers of unfettered capitalism and labor exploitation.

Almost all of the issues you highlight about exploitative sex work can be said about exploitative labor in any industry. Poor people taking shitty jobs that don’t pay enough and enrich capitalist, patriarchal corporate overlords? That happens all over the world in industries from meat packing to clothing sweat shops to, yes, sex work. The exploitation of a person’s body for labor is an ethical stain on our culture at large. It’s why we’re so in favor of labor rights advances including a higher minimum wage, unions, and humane work environments.

Raising the Minimum Wage Would Make Our Lives Better

Are Unions Good or Bad?

Coronavirus Reveals America’s Pre-existing Conditions, Part 1: Healthcare, Housing, and Labor Rights

Sex work is not unique in that it opens desperate and poor people up to labor exploitation. It’s not even uniquely dangerous to the bodies of workers--John Oliver did a bit on the US meat packing industry recently that made me faint with body horror.

So we agree that labor exploitation is bad. And it’s something that we should work towards ending in every industry. But I can see why some people would view exploitative sex work to be a different kind of bad. Because sex is sensitive! It can be used to punish and hurt. See revenge porn and the way synonyms for “sex worker” are stigmatized and used as insults throughout society.

Now, a few clarifications. When I refer to sex work, I’m not just talking about cam work on OnlyFans. There are lots of other outlets for many different kinds of sex work. And I’m also not just talking about women sex workers. People of all gender identities and sexualities do sex work, and we should advocate for fair labor practices and safety for all of them. I am firmly pro- decriminalizing sex work so that the industry can be made safe, regulated, and destigmatized in an effort to reduce exploitation. I want sex workers to have the power of collective bargaining! I want them to be protected by law enforcement and our justice system, instead of targeted by it! I want them to pay taxes and have the privileges associated with all tax paying workers! I want them to have the power and protection of a regulatory industry that will purge abusive and violent clients from their field!

I also disagree with the characterization that choosing sex work freely, even out of desperation, is a “step up from kidnapping a girl from Romania to have them do porn.” Human trafficking is not sex work. It’s slavery and torture. Even when the choice is between making $7.25 an hour working at WalMart and making $7.25 as a cam girl, there’s still a choice involved, even if it’s a shitty one. There’s consent. Trafficking victims have no choice, no consent, only violence.

I honestly don’t want to start a debate here. We’re all on the same page that labor exploitation is bad. So I’ll just end with this: not all sex work is inherently exploitative. Which I guess is your real question!

I’ve mentioned before that I have friends who are former sex workers. Specifically strippers and a specialty dominatrix. As with any job, they had their ups and downs, their good nights and bad nights. But they all agree that they freely chose the work not out of desperation or a lack of other options. And they even enjoyed the work in some cases. If someone prefers sex work, thrives in giving that emotional labor to others, I’m not going to judge and I’m certainly not going to tell them they’re being exploited. It would frankly be insulting, condescending, to tell someone that their choice of work (when it truly is a choice) is bad for them.

It’s a fine line, but the line does exist. Sex work CAN BE exploitative. But it is not inherently exploitative, as far as I’m concerned.

222 notes · View notes

loubrary · 3 years

Text

Billy Hargrove x Male Reader

Headcanons: You’re new in town and help Billy become a better person.

Warnings: mentions of violence and homophobia, hints of smut.

A/N: This doesn’t really follows the ST timeline but who cares about canon or accuracy, am I right?

[ Masterlist ]

Your parents move you a lot due to their jobs, they’re always researching something in some strange corner of the world. You can’t understand how you went from living in South America for the last six months to living in middle-of-nowhere Hawkins Indiana.

You’re out to your parents, and they’re very supportive. You consider yourself lucky, they’re very modern and open-minded people.

The kids at your new school don’t know what to make of you with your different clothes, hair and accent. Some of the teachers are fascinated to learn of the places you’ve been to.

When you met Robin your gaydars went off and you’re both excited to have a Fellow Gay in town. She introduces you to her friend Steve and the three of you become very close. Soon you are also helping Steve take care of his kids.

Billy hears of this strange new kid and goes to look for him to show him who owns this school. When Billy sees you he is enthralled, the world stops and all he sees is you, he feels a strange sensation inside, and he hates it.

In the days that follow, Billy makes his moves. He is mean to you, calls you names. He tries to intimidate you and scare you. But you’ve dealt with his type many times before and you have some tricks up your sleeve.

Billy hates that you don’t react to his taunting. You just smile and laugh.

“F*g!”

“You too?! Wanna go on a date, darling? Bad boys with pretty hair are totally my type, Hargrove.”

His words don’t work, so he changes his tactics.

You’re walking through an empty hallway when he attempts to grab you and slam you against the wall. Only to find himself on the floor completely immobilized. He had no clue you had trained in various martial arts.

Putting the pain aside, Billy is turned on by the feeling of being dominated, he feels himself hardening against the cold floor.

You lean down and whisper in his ear, “think twice before daring to touch me, pretty boy.” You let him go.

One side of him wants to fight but when he sees the determination and fearlessness in your eyes he backs down. “This isn’t over,” he huffs and leaves stomping the floor.

Billy leaves you alone after that. He only glares at you and curses at you under his breath. He hates that he can’t stop thinking about that day. He hates that he enjoyed being under your control. He hates how he can only cum to images of you. But at this exact moment he hates seeing you with Steve laughing.

You feel his eyes on you, how they follow you as you move. When you face him his face hardens and his fists clench, but there’s something in his eyes you can’t decipher.

One day you’re alone in the showers, or so you think. You turn and see Billy checking you out from the other side, completely frozen. You notice his hard-on and his eyes open wide. He thinks you’ll say something but you just smile and wink at him. He leaves hurriedly trying to control himself.

That confirms your suspicions and you know what is up with Billy. You’ve met guys with internalized homophobia, but never like Billy.

After that, teasing Billy becomes one of your favourite activities. You pay him visits at the pool, making sure he gets a nice view of you. You notice when he covers his lap with his magazine, and tries to focus on something else.

“Why do we come to the public pool? We both have pools at home,” Steve complains. Robin laughs at the clueless boy, and proceeds to explain the situation.

One day Billy finds you alone and he attempts to make a move on you. He was so confident believing you’d accept his advances.

“I’m not some desperate lonely gay boy, Billy. I don’t bend over for any hot guy that offers me his dick.” “So you think I’m hot?” He smirks. You scoff leaving him there.

Billy hates that you rejected him. How is it possible? He thinks of the guys he tormented and then fucked back in California, how easy they fell to their knees for him.

Billy has never met a gay guy as confident and unafraid as you. Deep inside he feels jealous and admiration for you. He secretly wishes he could be as open and be free as you.

You get paired for a project, you are prepared to do all the work and let him take part of the credit. You’re shocked when he asks if you want to get together to work on the project. You’re even more shocked when you learn that he actually understands the material and is quite smart.

Against your better judgement you invite him to your place. You’re surprised he shows up on time.

When he greets your parents, it’s like he’s a completely different person. He laughs at your dad’s jokes, compliments your mom, and even asks about what they are working on.

Billy is even more jealous of you when he sees how loving and caring your parents are, how happy and peaceful your home life is.

The second time he comes over he has to excuse himself and go to the bathroom to splash some water on his face and calm down. All he can think of is everything you have that he doesn’t.

He finds you and your parents sitting tightly together as your mother reads a book out loud in french for you and your dad.

“Sit down honey, I’ll translate for you,” your mother says.

By the fourth day he accepts your parents’ invitation to stay for dinner. He has fun, he’s fascinated by your parents’ stories and their research work.

You get a glimpse of the real Billy and can’t help but smile.

One day during dinner your mother talks about your exes trying to embarrass you, and asks Billy if there’s a special boy in his life.

Billy’s breath hitches and starts to sweat. He stands up quickly bumping into the table, saying he has to leave.

Your mom tries to apologise and your dad asks him to stay.

You follow him outside the house. “Billy, wait!”

He turns around to face you and his eyes are red as he tries to hold in the tears. “Hey, it’s all—“ “I’m not a... I’m not.” he grunts before getting in his car and speeding off.

Billy parks somewhere secluded and hits the steering wheel with his fists, he cries and yells in anger. He’s angry, sad, jealous.

He cries for his mom, for a life he wishes he had, for the love and support he yearns for.

Billy returns the following week to finish the project. He plans to just focus on the project, finish it and never return.

Your mom answers the door. “So good to see you, love, we’ve missed you,” she says warmly rubbing his arm, “sorry about the other day”. He almost doesn’t hear the last sentence, he hasn’t heard those words or felt that way in a long time. Someone being happy to see him, missing him, calling him love.

Your dad greets him and calls him son, and asks him to join him later in the study to show him their latest findings.

You and Billy don’t talk about what happened. You focus on your project.

“Have you always been out to your parents?” Billy blurts out.

You decide to be honest. “Yeah, they sort of figured it out when I was little.” You tell him how growing up you met all kinds of people through your parents. You tell him about your parents’ gay friends that you call uncles and aunts. Telling him how you always felt free to be yourself with your parents even though you know the world is cruel and unaccepting.

After a moment of silence Billy speaks. He talks about the only openly gay person he ever met, a friend of his mom back in California. He tells you about how his father hated his mom’s friend and got in fights with his mom about it.

He tells you about his dad, how aggressive and angry he is. He doesn’t tell you about the physical abuse. He went on about how unhappy he was, and how different your lives were.

You start to see why Billy acts the way he does. Bullying others is his way to feel he is in control.

“How do you do it?”

“What?”

“Being gay like that, you don’t hide.”

“We only live once, I’m not gonna let a world full of bigots tell me I can’t be myself and be happy.” You pause. ”Billy? You can always be yourself here.”

After you finish your project, Billy keeps coming to your place to hang out.

He’s more relaxed and tones down the attitude. He even starts being nice to Max.

He’s still the bad boy to everyone else, but when he enters your home all that stays outside.

You learn more about the real Billy. How he likes science and music. How curious he is. How funny he can be. And you slowly start to fall for this Billy.

One day Billy and you are in the living room listening to music lying on the carpet and giggling when your mom comes in. “Honey, your friends are here.”

You both look up and see a shocked Steve and the kids, and a grinning Robin. Max is especially shocked by the whole scene.

“Oh hey guys, you know Billy, right? We’re just listening to this new album.”

Billy panics, and stands up to escape, “I have to go.” You understand, not wanting to force him into anything.

The others sit down looking suspiciously at Billy as he leaves. Billy avoids all eye contact. “What did I get himself into?” Billy thinks.

Meanwhile Robin and you have each other’s arm over your shoulders as you sing dramatically.

“Is anyone going to talk about how you were on the floor giggling with Billy Hargrove?” Mike asks.

One rainy night, Billy is driving to your house. His eyes sting, his knuckles turn white gripping the wheel. He feels his cheek and eye starting to swell. He stays on the driveway debating on what to do. He sees your bedroom light on and goes to ring the bell hoping that you open the door.

It’s your mom that opens the door. “Billy? Come on in, love, you’re soaking wet.” When he steps into the lit hallway your mom finally sees his face. “Oh my god, sweetheart. What happened?”

“Who is it darling? Oh Billy! Are you okay, son?” Your dad asks him.

Billy wants to lie, he had this planned, he would have said how he got into a fight with another guy and didn’t want to go home looking like that. “I got—I...” he tries. But he can’t keep it in anymore. “It was... My—my dad...” he chokes as he lets out a cry.

He feels two sets of arms engulf him, and he lets is all out. He cries like he’s never cried before. He thinks he hears your name being called. He hears your parents’ voices, encouraging and supportive words he can barely make up. He cries even more when he think of how these people that he met not long ago care more about him than his own father.

You find your parents consoling Billy. Your mom is holding him while your dad rubs circles on his back. And Billy holds on to them like his life depends on it.“Billy?” He looks up to you and you see his broken face, all the pain and suffering he has endured and your heart breaks for him.

You help him get up and walk him to the living room. Your dad goes to prepare the guest room and your mother prepares some tea. Billy is curled into a ball under a blanker with his head on your lap. You run your hand through his hair as you rub his arm comfortingly.

When he calms down, he starts telling you of everything his dad has done. All the punches, the bruises, the hurtful words.

Later you take him to the guest room, you help him get his clothes off and rub some medicine over his bruises.

“Can you stay with me?”

“Of course.”

You hold him close, his face pressed on your chest.

For the first time in a long while Billy sleeps peacefully.

After that day your parents take action, they’re on the phone with their lawyers, looking at how they can help Billy and Max.

Your parents help him get custody of Max.

The both of them move in with your family.

“Can’t believe you’re taking me to live with your boyfriend,” Max tells him. “He’s just a friend,” he groans. “Yeah, right.”

That night Billy is in your bed as you read to him, his head on your lap. “Thank you,” he says pulling your book down to look at you. “What for?” You ask, running a hand through his hair. “For saving me, and Max.” You smile and kiss his forehead and continue with the story.

In the morning you wake up to Billy facing you, looking at you and he smiles.

“You okay?” He nods and reaches for your hand, holding it tightly as he scoots closer to you.

You move a loose strand of hair behind his ear, caressing his cheek, feeling how soft his skin is.

You two stay like that for a while just enjoying each other’s warmth in silence, playing with your hands and looking into other’s eyes. Neither of you can’t stop smiling.

“I love you, (y/n).”

“I love you too, Billy.”

#Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove x male reader #stranger things #tw: violence #angst #fluff

904 notes · View notes