#and her family thinking there was nothing they couldn't teach her about the basics

[elizabethrobertajones]

Evil AU: raised in Sharlayan as a snob and harasses the mammets about rare books

[myg-butterfly]

Nothing New

Ot7! BTS x Choreographer! Reader (Seokjin x Reader focused)

Summary: You get hurt and have to find a replacement. You just didn't think that replacement extended to your relationship with the BTS members. Will they still want you when you're nothing new?

Tags: ANGST (sorry), eventual fluff, Injured!Reader, Fem!Reader, Bangtan are kind of assholes, this isn't really proofread sorry, I also don't know how this shit actually works with Idol groups so I'm just making shit up lolsies.

A/N: HI omg sorry this took FOREVER. I was gonna have this done this weekend but we went to go visit family so I put this aside omg, but it's finalllyyyy here! I hope this lives up to your expectations. Thank you for all the love on the teaser, and remember, comments and feedback are always soooo appreciated!

Taglist: @bangteezbaby @thelilbutifulthings @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @juju-227592 @kikz165 @plexcaffeinate

All the members had just gotten home from rehearsal, and immediately went to find you just so they could throw silly little tantrums about you not being there.

The way they were pouting reminded you more of kicked puppies than world-wide sensations.

"It's fine guys, I know someone who can cover for me until I get better."

"But we like your choreography better." Taehyung whines into your shoulder and you pat his head in comfort.

"It's just a month or two, Tae."

You had broken your leg about a week ago, and consequently, you couldn't continue choreographing for the group until you were fully healed.

Which meant either the boys paused their learning, or you brought someone else in to cover for you - and you're all aware that pausing isn't really an option.

"But I'll miss you." Your boyfriends were overly dramatic, acting like you were leaving even though you all lived together.

"You'll still see me at home, it's not like I'm dropping off the face of the earth."

He huffs into your shoulder and rolls over so he's sitting next to you normally now.

"Anyway, how have you been? Have you felt okay?" Seokjin sits down on the other side of you and you feel yourself growing a bit shy under his caring stare.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

•••

"Hi! Thank you so much for covering for me. We're on a reall-"

"Save it, it's whatever. I always told you you'd need my help again at some point."

You don't like the implications in her tone but you pass it off with a small chuckle.

"Okay, so they already know 2 out of the 5 numbers for this album, and we were in the middle of learning the 3rd one. I taught it to Hoseok in advance so he can take over for that one. So you wouldn't need to be at the studio until next week. I'll send you the videos I took of the foundation of the other 2 numbers so you can learn it and then teach it."

She looked so uninterested in what you were saying, but you had to be professional.

You called her here in the first place.

"Kay, cool, got it. Also, can I get the guys' numbers? You know, just in case."

"Oh uhm, you can ask them when you see them next week… I'm not sure if they want me giving out their numbers to people they don't really know."

"Well they're gonna know me soon right? Don't be greedy, trying to keep all of them to yourself."

She giggles but you can feel that it's not really one of genuine giddiness and you hope that your discomfort isn't apparent.

"I'll ask them when I see them later today."

You plaster on the best smile you can and she gives you an equally forced one back.

"Okay. Bye!"

She basically struts away and you're left standing there; maybe calling her was the wrong move.

•••

Yep. Calling her was probably the wrong move. But it depends on which side of Y/N you ask.

On the professional side, this is absolutely great. They hit it off right away, all the boys growing comfortable with her rather quick (something HYBE valued a lot), and she was great at her job. Talented, bold, confident, friendly, the whole package.

On a more personal side, this was putting you on edge. How suddenly, all the guys would talk about was 'Joanna said this a rehearsal' or 'Joanna invited us out to eat'. It was always Joanna this Joanna that, and you knew they were just excited to have a new friend, to have someone who shares their passion, you couldn't help but wonder if their feelings for you were simply out of excitement. And now that you're not the newest thing around, would they still want you? Would they still talk about you with the same sparkle in their eyes as they do with Joanna? It left a pit in your chest.

And — yeah, calling her was the definitely the wrong move.

Finally, a long-awaited date with all of you. They were filled with energy, talking and joking on the ride there, and you felt your heart growing lighter, you still had them.

They even helped you get off the car with all the gentleness in the world, helped you get in your seat and made sure you were completely comfortable.

The lightness quickly weighed down into something much heavier when you saw Joanna walk in and make her way to the table.

And the weight felt like it had been dropped to you feet when the guys scooted to make space for her, Namjoon even standing up to hug her and letting her sit first so she'd be in between him and Jungkook.

How long has it been since they hugged you with such happiness?

"Oh my god, Y/N, hi! The boys didn't tell me you would be here."

Something about the way she said "the boys" made your hands itch, almost as much as your throat itched to say 'likewise'.

"Welp. I'm here. Haha."

Dinner wasn't fun, to say the least.

Joanna was blatantly saying shit to embarrass you the entire time, and it even worse, your boyfriends seemed to be soaking up her every word, laughing whenever she pointed out something embarrassing about you when she knew you in high school.

"Yeah! And when we choreographed together, she would always forget her parts." She lets out a giggle and Hoseok laughs too: what's so funny?

"It was only once or twice." You groan, mostly to yourself, but Joanna hears it.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Everyone laughs at her words again and suddenly, you start to think that staying home was the better option.

"I've always said she has the memory of a goldfish. Sometimes it felt like I was doing all the work because i constantly had to step in and help when Y/N froze up."

She turns to you when she speaks her next question:

"How are you doing now that I haven't been here to clean up after you? Are you making Jimin do it?" She laughs and nudges Jimin, who's sitting next to her, on the shoulder, and he happily shoves back with a bright smile on her face.

"I'm fine, it's rare that I forget stuff lately."

She gasps in a dramatic manner, you wish she would just disappear already.

"You? Not wasting time in rehearsal? Because you forgot? That's unheard of!"

You hate the way pretty much all of the guys laugh at her words: they know how much work you've put into being a good choreographer. Why were they laughing at you?

Suddenly, you feel the person next to you pressing up closer against you: Seokjin.

You look at him and he has a soft smile on his face, but not towards Joanna; his entire focus is on you.

"You have a really good memory darling. We can tell you've worked on it." The knot in your stomach softens its grip after hearing Seokjin's words, and for the first time since you got here, your smile is genuine.

"Anyways, how'd you injure yourself?"

"Oh, we were doing some cardio and I tripped. Fell at an awkward angle and it twisted my leg. Haha."

Joanna laughs a little too hard at this.

"I've always also said that for a supposed dancer you sure are clumsy as hell."

Some of the guys giggle at her comment, and you look down at your lap: why were they laughing at you?

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seokjin sit up a little straighter, and you suspect he's gonna say something.

"Supposed dancer?" He raised a brow and to most people, it would've seemed like he was just egging onto the joke, but you and the rest of the table could tell that there was a serious undertone to his question.

It was no secret in your relationship with the guys that Seokjin had a specific soft spot for you – in a relationship as big as yours, its bound that all of you will have your weak spots for one another: Jungkook and Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung, Hoseok and Yoongi, you and Seokjin.

So you were more than relieved when he met your gaze from across the table; he knew you were uncomfortable.

And as everyone knows, he's not one to stay quiet.

"I just mean it's surprising that for someone so clumsy she went into the professional world where coordination is crucial."

Jungkook uses this point to tease Namjoon, and thankfully the attention is taken off of you. You catch Seokjin's stare again and this time it's accompanied with an apologetic smile and him reaching out his hand to hold yours.

As your hands meet on top of the table, you seem to be the only one who notices the look Joanna sends you at the display of affection.

•••

More days pass by and everyday they get home later and later until you're left going to bed on your own.

You'd made it a habit to wait for each other if one was out late, but it didn't happen often since you had almost the same working hours and when you went out, it was usually altogether.

You'd tried to keep that habit after your injury, but they were coming home later everyday, and you weren't sure you had it in you to keep staying up for them.

Especially on nights like this one, where when they do get home, you're dismissed almost entirely.

The door opens and you sit up, ready to greet them one by one with a hug and kiss, but most of them just mumble a "hey" or "hi Y/N" and walk straight to their rooms.

Only Jungkook and Seokjin genuinely acknowledge you, Jungkook giving you a hug and a peck on the forehead accompanied by a soft "Hi baby." before going to his room as well.

Seokjin also hugs you, but he picks you up while doing so: shifting you in his arms so he can carry you to bed with him.

As he begins to walk, your eyes meet and he sends a soft smile your way.

You barely start to relax in his hold when you realize that he's walking into your room, and you slightly panic at the thought that he's going to leave you alone in there.

Your slight panic turns into franticness as he sets you down and steps away from the bed.

"No! Don't-" Jin whips around at the sound of your voice, and you feel immediate guilt when you see his startled expression.

"Sorry, I- I know you're tired. Sorry, you can go."

Your attempts to decrease his worry don't seem to work, because he's already making his way back towards your bed.

"No, no. What happened? Whats wrong?"

"Its nothing." Seokjin gives you a stern look, you both know that lying to him is impossible.

"It's not nothing. Is it your leg? Or is it something else?"

"Its stupid" you mumble.

Noticing that you're unsure of yourself, he sits closer to you and brushes you hair out of your face in attempts to comfort you.

"Its not stupid if its bothering you" you feel your tears welling up again at how soft Seokjin's voice is. How soft he is with you.

"I just- I don't think I can be alone right now." You lean into his touch as you finally get at least some of the truth off your chest.

"You don't have to be. I was going to shower, do you want to join me?"

"I don't want to bother you."

"You won't."

"But my leg, I won't be able to stand for long."

"It's okay, we'll bring a stool in and I'll help you."

"But you're tired-"

"Never of taking care of you."

Something in your heart settles through the rest of the night, there is no other intention behind Seokjin asking you to join him.

He washes your hair and even dries it once you're out, he helps you get dressed and he goes to sleep holding you, and even if it's just for one night; all is right in the world again.

The next morning, Jin wakes you up and asks you if you'd like to come to rehearsal with the 7 of them. You're elated, to say the least. You knew it was a minimum thing, but your heart couldn't help but flutter at the thought that they wanted you around.

•••

Jin on the other hand, is pissed. Not at you, (never at you), but at his 6 boyfriends and how absolutely dense they could be, this being one of those moments.

He'd mentioned that you were coming with them, and all of them responded well: "I hope she likes the choreo!" "Yay! I want to hear what she has to say."

Their response to you tagging along wasn't the problem, no.

It was their response when he tried to tell them about how you were feeling that pissed him off:

"Wait guys, before we leave, I need to talk to you about something real quick."

All of them were attentive towards him immediately, so he thought they'd receive this better.

"It's about Y/N. And partially Joanna."

"Okay?"

"I talked to Y/N last night and she seemed upset. She didn't really want to talk about it but I'm almost completely sure that she's feeling left out, and I think it may partially be because of Joanna."

All of them begin to speak at once, until Taehyung's voice cuts through everyone else's.

"Why do you think it has something to do with Joanna?"

The 6 boys settle down and stare expectantly at Jin.

"Have you guys not noticed how backhanded all of Joanna's comments are towards her? Even when Y/N isn't present, she always makes a joke at her expense. And not to mention, we've been spending a lot of time with Joanna, much more than we've been spending with Y/N. I know if I were her I would feel hurt; being injured and spending the whole day cooped up alone while my boyfriends are spending all their time with someone who treats me like dog shit."

Jin wasn't sure what he was expecting the boys' reactions to be, but it definitely wasn't the outraged faces they were all giving him.

Jungkook is the first one to respond:

"I mean, I noticed the comments but I thought they were all in good fun? You know, since Y/N and Joanna have been friends for such a long time."

Taehyung cuts in next:

"And if Y/N is feeling left out, I mean I understand but what does that have to do with Joanna?"

Almost as if on cue, there's noise coming from the kitchen, meaning that you're awake.

Jin quickly gets up to go to you, but not before leaving the 6 boys with one final word, "Just pay attention to how she speaks to Y/N, you'll see what I'm talking about."

•••

It's hard to describe – the knowledge that you're being left behind without any obvious evidence surrounding you.

It's not something that everyone outside of your point of view might see, but you can feel it cutting through you deeply.

Not being able to do what you love, and on top of that, not being able to spend time with the people you love, it's a shattering feeling that claws through your chest.

Which leaves you where you are now: in the car with the rest of the boys on your way to rehearsal.

You thought that maybe being back in the studio would relight the spark that made the 7 men drawn to you in the first place, but even the car ride there felt cold and almost uncomfortable.

•••

The atmosphere changes the moment you step foot in the studio. It feels lighter, somehow. You don't know how to feel, not with the voice in your head insinuating that this lightness is because of Joanna; the guys are more at ease with Joanna than they are with you.

You usually hate being wrong: but now, you wish you could say the voice in your head was being irrational, yet you can't. Not when you turn around and see everyone besides Seokjin and Yoongi - who are off conversing to the side - gathered around Joanna, happily talking to her.

When did they stop looking at you like that?

Finally, she takes notice of your presence and makes her way over to you.

"Y/N, girly! Hey! Are you here to learn?"

You don't respond, confused as to what she's trying to ask you.

"Ya'know? Learn from the best! We've been so productive with this number."

She responds like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and you almost feel offended at what she's insinuating.

"Oh, um- I'm here to see what the guys have done."

Joanna blinks at you, as if your answer threw her off, before continuing.

"Oh. Ok then. Cool! And are the boys cool with that?"

You can tell, she wants this to sound passive aggressive. Kind on the surface, but a clear jab at your insecurities.

Jungkook quickly cuts in;

"Of course. Why wouldn't we be cool with that?"

Joanna stutters through her response, being caught off guard by Jungkook as she thought no one had heard her remark.

"Oh! I don't know, you might get distracted? You know?"

"We'll be fine."

This time it's Jin who answers, and even if it's a little selfish, you're glad that his tone towards Joanna is automatically cold.

"Okay thennnn!"

She turns to you:

"But if you start being a distraction I'll have to ask you to step out. Heh, step out. That's funny."

She giggles at her little joke (at your expense), and makes her way into the practice room.

Rehearsal continues as usual, and you feel a bit lighter as the boys all make jokes and include you while they stretch and warm up.

They start to run through the choreography, and your heart swells with pride seeing them dance; all their hard work really does pay off.

As much as you wish to get up and dance with them, or even get up at all, you know you can't. But just seeing them perform will do.

Once they finish, you start to clap and Jimin and Jungkook turn towards you with a playful vow.

"Its looking really good guys!"

All of the boys respond with a 'thank you' and a smile.

"I do have a couple pointers about some things I noticed-"

"Okay, let's run it again!" Before you could finish your sentence you're cut off by Joanna's squeaky voice.

Thankfully, Hoseok cares about what you have to say, and the rest seem to agree as well.

"Wait, I wanna hear what Y/N had to say."

"Yeah! It's felt weird learning a brand new number and not having any of your input on it."

"Y/N, go on." Seokjin is the one who speaks last, and the look in his eyes tell you that things will be alright.

"Ok, so first thing make sure you guys are agreeing on your directions, make sure that it's either a complete diagonal or if its a slanted move so you all move the same direction-"

"Oh yeah, I explained that to them already, they know." You're once again cut off by Joanna.

You use this as a chance to tease the boys, as you always normally.

"Oh, then why are y'all making that mistake huh?" Your tone is playful, and you see Hoseok step towards you with all the intent of playing along, when a gasp coming from your right stops you both.

"Did you come in here just to criticize?"

Of course it's Joanna.

"Wha- no. I was just teasing them. The dance looks grea-"

"I told you you were gonna distract them, and what did I say I was gonna do if you got them unfocused?"

"I didn't mean to, I was just giving pointers-"

"I've been teaching them for the last few weeks, I know what they need to focus on right now."

"But I know that it can look cleaner than it did right now."

"Well this is my choreography! I know what's best! You don't get to come in here and just start shitting on my work because what? You're jealous?! You think you're better than everyone else?!"

You're taken aback when Joanna starts to scream at you, so much so that you try to step back, completely forgetting that one of your feet is injured.

As you place your foot down, a soaring pain strikes from your foot all the way to your thigh. A sob escapes you and that's when Jin's protective nature kicks in full force.

In the blink of an eye, he's crouching next to you and picking you up while everyone else in the rooms stands frozen in place.

The ice is shattered when a wail comes from somewhere else in the room: it's Joanna.

Everyone's head whips to her direction, but for very different reasons.

Jin, for one, is beyond disbelief that she'd go as low as fake crying to get the attention back on her.

The rest of the guys seemed concerned, but not because of her. Rather because they just saw her true colors, how Jin was right, how they'd neglected you.

Seokjin picks you up and rushes out the door, leaving everyone else in the room frozen.

•••

You don't really process anything that happens afterwards. You just know Seokjin is with you as you go to the doctor to get your foot checked out, and that's enough to push you into a state where you know you can space out.

You couldn't comprehend it, how you were hurt and the rest of them weren't there.

Did they even care you were hurt?

It didn't make sense, that you were asking yourself this. When had things gotten this bad? How could they have let thing get this bad? It left you aching more than your injury, and you think that shouldn't even be possible.

When you get home, you find all the boys kitchen, a mess everywhere -much to Jin's despair- attempting to decorate what you assume is a cake. They're all focused to the point where they didn't hear you come in, and if they did, they're really good at acting like they didn't. You want to hide in your room, maybe ask Jin to hide with you, play into their ignorance, but the petty part in you is much quicker.

"Joanna doesn't like cake."

You speak without thinking about it first, and it's clear that none of them were expecting a comment like that, not even Jin, because their heads whip around instantly to you.

You panic for a little, thinking they'll get mad, but Hoseok and Yoongi start laughing at Namjoon's terrified face, at the maknae line looking like they're deer in headlights, and at Jin's round eyes.

Before you know it, They're all running up to you, and Seokjin has to grab you by the waist to make sure they don't knock you over.

They all speak at once, and you can only make out some things like "are you okay? what did the doctor say? im sorry." What cuts through all the rambling is Namjoon's smooth voice, sounding a bit exasperated as he speaks: "The cake is for you Y/N. We were making the cake for you."

Oh.

"Joon! You ruined the surprise!" Jimin stomps his feet, but you know he's not actually upset.

"Well we couldn't just let her think that we were baking a cake for fuckin Joanna!" Namjoon defends himself.

Yoongi steps in front of the two and turns to you, "It was supposed to be a 'Surprise / I'm sorry / We love you / Get well soon' cake but you got here before we finished."

His genuinely dejected demeanor makes you giggle, he looks like a sad cat.

"It's okay-"

"No it's not. Cake or not, we're all really sorry- hold on, we should sit down for this." Jungkook grabs your hand and leads you to the couch, the rest following suit.

You all sit in silence for a second before Hoseok speaks up:

"Well I guess I'll start." He sits up a little straighter so he's facing you directly, and you feel nerves run through you: was he upset? Was he going to scold you?

The guys seem to notice how you tense up, because Hoseok's face falls a into a small frown, while Jungkook scoots closer to you and Jin places a hand on your thigh.

"Y/N, I am so so sorry for the way we've been acting, and the way we haven't been acting. You got hurt under our watch, we should be the ones taking care of you, no questions asked, and we've failed to do that. There's really no excuse for how inattentive we've been. In our heads, or at least my head, I didn't really see you all day, so I thought that everything was okay because I still got to wake up to you, I still got to come home and feel comfortable knowing that you were here: we had your company. But I failed to return that company, we all failed to give you the bare minimum, and I truly am so sorry."

For the time you've know Hoseok, you've only seen him cry once or twice, so when you see tears start to fall from his eyes, it shakes you up and down. Before you can go console him, Jimin speaks up from where he sits beside Hoseok.

"Hobi's right, Y/N. We didn't pay you enough attention. We were too worried about ourselves to consider how our actions looked to you. The whole thing with Joanna, we did spend a lot of time with her, but even then, all we did was talk about you. Not in a bad way, obviously, but you just always came up in conversation. I don't know why I thought that talking about you would translate as 'we're still giving you our attention' as if you could read our thoughts or something. But again, we were selfish and careless, and I can't apologize enough for how we acted."

You appreciate Jimin's attempt at lightening up the mood, and you appreciate his words overall.

The next hour goes by in the same manner. The boys apologize one by one, not to just you, but to Seokjin as well, and before you know it, there's no one in the room that isn't crying, all of you a teary and snotty mess.

"We love you so much, Y/N. Please let us make it up to you. I love you so much." Yoongi's the last one to speak, and he finishes while walking up to you and bowing at your feet.

The rest of the guys join him, even Seokjin, and you don't know what else to do except throw yourself on the floor with all of them and cry.

The night ends with all of you cuddled up on the floor, until Namjoon and Jin make you all get up so you could go lay down properly.

They guys don't let you walk, no, Jungkook carries you while Taehyung and Jimin squish at his side in an attempt to stay close to you.

You all manage to squeeze into a single bed with you in the middle, hands everywhere trying to keep you close.

You feel warmer than you have in weeks, and meanwhile the guys do have a lot to make up for, with arms wrapped around you and sweet nothings floating in the room, you think this is a great start.

[narwal-ed-in]

ARMY GLITTERATI - (Band of Brothers x Bimbo!Reader)

✨glitterati✨- /ˌɡlɪt̬.əˈrɑː.t̬i/ - 1940's slang for famous people, glamorous people, in the spotlight.

Summary: “You want to become a combat medic for the 101st?” “What, like it's hard?”

Warning: Period typical sexism, Fem reader, she/her pronouns, slight body shaming (not directed at reader). NO BETA READ. I WROTE THIS JUST NOW SO PLEASE DON'T EXPECT MUCH.

No disrespect to the real veterans of WW2, all my BoB fanfics are based on depictions by actors in the miniseries.

Borders by @plutism

BEFORE TACCOA

The war is raging and everyone is doing their part to help the men on the front.

For you, that mostly meant trying to look your best at all times, no matter how inconvenient the situation.

"Looking good is a ginormous part of the war effort, it's good for boosting troop morale. I saw it on a poster at the teaching hospital" You reasoned with your father after he complained about you buying another pair of shoes and some expensive vanishing creams.

"Darling, I think they meant that we should all keep our appearances up, not buy out our local department stores"

"Oh my god daddy, you're suffocating me! I'm just doing my part by looking nice..." you glare at your father in his work clothes and eye him with a grimace "...and clearly you're not"

When you get a telegram informing you that you've been selected to participate in a program that aims to send female medics into combat you jump on it.

This is going to be so much fun.

"I'm going to be the talk of the town when everyone finds out. Not even Reverend Smiths boring old story about dying for ten minutes in a car crash and seeing Jesus will be able to outdo this!"

Your supervisors at the hospital are shocked that you've been chosen, seeing as you're not the sharpest knife in the drawer.

You had once walked out of an operation because it was bloody and you were wearing white (all the nurse uniforms are white).

You hoped you wouldn't be assigned to the army or the airforce.

The army is too basic, and if you were stuck on an airbase somewhere then nobody would be able to see how fab you always were.

The navy was your goal, their uniforms were sooo cute, you were just dreaming of all the ways you could style it.

It's just your luck when you get assigned to airborne.

"THIS BLOWS! I'm in the two most unglamorous branches at the same time"

After your initial breakdown you realized it wasn't that bad. If you were jumping out of planes it just meant that your hotness would have a bigger audience since it would literally be raining down from the sky.

"When the Germans see all this falling from the sky, they're going to flip their friggin wigs! AHHHH"

CONNECTING WITH EASY

You're assigned to Easy company and meet the men a few months into their training at Camp Toccoa.

You show up randomly in the middle of the day.

Although the men had been told a woman would be joining them and they had been expecting you, they hadn't been expecting YOU.

You were a ditzy thing and looked like you’d jumped out of one of their pin up postcards. The brass surely couldn't expect them to put their lives in your hands.

"I'm sooo happy to meet everyone. You know, the other girls in the program are such massive liars, they said airborne was where all the uggos went, but that's so not true. After all, I'm here"

You always woke up an hour earlier than the rest of Easy so you would have time to put your face on.

It was one of your tenets to never be seen by anyone outside of family without makeup on, or with your curlers in.

Malarkey, Skip, Penkala, Shifty, Bull, Christenson, Lip and Winters had all been kind to you from the beginning, expecting nothing in return.

But some of the guys had other ideas.

George was one of the men that befriended you initially. And although he did have the ulterior motive of getting it on with you, he eventually stuck around because he actually liked you.

You guys have great play-flirting banter and you're both very entertaining people to be around, especially when you're drunk.

On the rare nights anyone gets passes they want to be around you and George because they know that's where the funs at.

You get sloppy drunk with George, flirt with men from Easy and other companies all night, then end up with your shoes off at 3am, sitting on the curb and crying about one of your ex boyfriends.

Perconte was one of your original detractors but when you found yourselves making the same brain dead comments about obvious things, you both decided to put your two half braincells together to form the singular braincell you share between yourselves.

Talbert was trying to get into your pants instantly. Nobody was surprised.

But just like George he grew to be genuinely fond of you.

What was surprising was Joe Toye taking you under his wing.

Toye could see that you were absolutely clueless and the worst part was, you had no idea.

Toye couldn't bear the agony of watching you skip around camp with your happy-go-lucky attitude, harping on about celebrity gossip nobody cared about.

"Y/N!" Toye yelled as you all got dressed to run Currahee "Why the hell is your PT shirt pink?!"

"Isn't it just the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen, Joe? I put a red handkerchief in with my laundry. Cosmo said carnation pink is the color of the summer"

Huffing and puffing, Toye took out one of his spare shirts and forced you to wear it.

"And when you give it back, it better not be fucking 'flamingo pink'" Toye said.

"Oh honey, this isn't 1939, flamingo pink is so over. I wouldn't be caught dead in that. You know, Joe, sometimes I feel like you don't care about fashion at all" You scoff at his cluelessness as you walk out.

Joe Toye is secretly your best friend in the company.

Toye taking you in meant Gaurnere and Johnny Martin had to be around you, much to their chagrin.

They didn't want some girl hanging off of them.

You win Gaurnere's respect when you coach him on what to write to his girlfriend back home to assure her that he's serious about their relationship when she began doubting his intentions.

And you win Johnny's respect when you help him find the most romantic gift for his wife for valentines day.

"Y'know, back home they call me the love doctor...Well, they used to, before I told Betsy Kline that Rob Jones was her soulmate but then he left her at the altar to elope with his housekeeper"

Sobel despised you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

Not wearing your red lipstick everyday was torture, but you had to stick to natural colours so Sobel wouldn't be able to tell what you had on.

He tried with everything in his power to get you kicked out, but much to everyones surprise, you kept up extrordinarily well with the men when it came to physical training.

"I do a lot of Pilates. It's really good for flexibility and helps you keep a positive outlook so you're not be such a 'negative nancy' all the time. Some of you could really use it. Some more than others..." you said as you side-eyed Skinny who just looked around incredulously

Eventually most of the men come to consider you a friend and a confidante since you give remarkably sound relationship advice.

"It's like sooo hard being the smartest person and the hottest catch in this camp at the same time"

The hardest nuts to crack in your immediate friend group end up being Leibgott, Cobb and Doc Roe, all for different reasons of course.

Leib was snide and arrogant and spoke to you like you were a silly little girl.

He didn't shy away from telling you how dumb he thought you were to your face.

Your relationship eventually becomes friendly but he will still be mean occasionally.

He always ends up apologising though and feels really bad when he makes you cry (the other guys nearly bite his head off whenever this happens).

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, stop being a baby already. I said I was sorry" Lieb said to you as you cried into your pillow.

"You can say sorry to me, Joey, but how are you going to tell Rita Hayworth you're sorry for saying nobody cares about her nighttime face washing routine?" You spoke inbetween sobs.

"I ain't saying sorry to Rita because I ain't sorry I said it. I stand by what I said. Nobody cares how some broad washes up at night"

"You take that back! That routine saved my life" You jumped up, pointing an accusing finger at the man.

"How the fu-"

"You're a horrible, horrible man Joseph Leibgott"

"Oh put a sock in it" Leib rolled his eyes, making you cry even harder.

Toye, ever protective of you, had enough "I swear to god Leibgott, leave that girl alone!"

Cobb was just straight up cruel to you and made sure you always knew "your place".

Roe didn't seem particularly close to anyone.

But as you all of you went into the more specialised aspects of your training and you and Roe spent more time together, he found himself looking out for you.

You were sitting alone on the grass after everyone had groaned and walked off the moment you started talking about an article you read in a magazine.

You sigh sadly, pulling at the grass when a shadow falls over you.

Bringing up a hand to block the sun you finally recognize who it is. It's Eugene Roe.

"I, uh, I was wondering if I could sit with you?" he asked.

You nodded excitedly and he took a seat beside you in the grass.

"What was it you were telling the others?"

You gasped "You really want to know?"

"I guess…"

Doc had seen everyone walk away, and although he didn't care much for mindless conversation, he knew talking to people meant a lot to you and had come over to cheer you up.

Without missing a beat you began one of your famous tirades.

By the end of your first year in Toccoa you end up finding your place.

Thanks for reading! Please like, comment and reblog if you want❤️

[lamentofabramo]

saw your requests were open. Wondering if you could write an Andrew x reader type thing, where the reader and Andy are dating, but where it’s obvious the reader is a replacement ? Like obviously Andy and Leyley are still attached in the emotional incest way and how it fucks with the reader

Thanks!

minor trigger warnings for emetophobia, and slight references to incest but it's nothing completely obvious. MINORS DNI

ANDREW GRAVES

You weren't her. That was as clear as day. Anyone could see that he practically breathed in that little parasite he called a sister, But you stupidly didn't think anything of it. Or rather you didn't want to. You let him walk all over you, cancelling even the simplest of dates, just because she pretended to be sick. You'd even bet she would impale her throat with those cute matching nails she did with Andy just to get a reaction.

Yet he fell for it, Hook line and sinker. Half of his calls to you were "Hey, sorry I might have to cancel. you know how it is," Yeah, you knew just how it was.

"Ley-ley isn't-" God that fucking nickname just screamed something deeper, It made you sick. But then it all came to a head once Andy cancelled yet again because of his sister.

"Andrew-? Are you being serious right now?" You hissed after a moment of silence to register that he was bailing on you, yet again. "She's 20! You're 22! She can look after herself if she has a fucking cold."

The line immediately fell silent for a second. A small thump was heard as if he was pressing his hand against the receiver. You wanted to believe it was him trying to mask his upset or cuss, but he was probably telling that brat exactly what you said like some sort of rat. It made you see red.

He couldn't even come up with a decent excuse without asking her. Eventually, he responded, "She's my sister." he said slowly like he was trying to teach a kid how to speak. It was degrading. "You have no backbone." You snapped back, you were sick of him, sick of her. Sick of them, since they were basically the same person anyway. "Well excuse me if I care about my family, Jesus Christ." He whines like a child, if you weren't so angry you'd gag from how childish he was being, "Is it that much of an issue?" "When you're attached at the hip, yes! It's weird Andrew!"

A small laugh was then heard in the background, it'd almost be seen as funny since it sounded right out of a high school bully's mouth, But no, this was the girl Andrew decided he loved more than you. "Fuck this." You hissed before you slammed the phone down. There was silence for a minute before you screamed into your sleeve. This was it. You couldn't deal with them anymore.

And you just knew she'd enjoy that.

[muxshwriting]

blessed to be

Violet Bridgerton x maid!reader

summary: as her maid, you can't help but grow close to the Bridgerton matriarch || word count: 1293 || masterlist

REQUESTED: can you please make a Violet Bridgerton x maid fanfic?? I'm literally so hungry for some Violet fanfics.

Violet Bridgerton needed a new lady’s maid. Her previous maid was getting married and would be released from the household to start her own with her new husband. Therefore, Violet was in need of a new lady’s maid to aid her, leaving the troublesome task to her loyal housekeeper.

A week later, Mrs Wilson approached the drawing room with a woman following behind her. "This is your new lady’s maid Ma’am." She announced.

The woman behind her lowered her head and offered a small smile. Violet returned her smile, introducing herself and learning your name. "I'm sure you'll do splendidly in this household. Mrs Wilson will tend to your needs and show you your duties."

"Yes Ma'am." You hesitated as you turned to leave. "Thank you."

As you settled into your duty, you couldn't help but be grateful for your fortunate position. Yes, you were a maid but you were a maid to one of the wealthiest families in the ton, a family that had (at least) a basic respect for their staff and took care of them. Most importantly, Violet cared. The matriarch would ask your opinion on fabrics and hairstyles and jewellery before deciding.

"What about the emeralds with this dress for Eloise?" Violet softly asked, holding a blush coloured dress.

You scrunched your eyebrows in concentration, weighing up the combination. "Perhaps something less colourful for Eloise? Something like crystal or quartz, perhaps white sapphires. She doesn't wish to stand out by wearing something like emeralds." You suggest, hurriedly adding the honorific at the end, "Ma'am."

Violet thinks for a second before nodding handing the dress back to you to hang up, reaching for a diamond necklace to compare. "I quite agree. Eloise will appreciate your concern." She paused for a moment, "I appreciate your concern."

"Just helping however I can Ma'am."

It was a quiet day where Violet was sitting in the drawing room with her embroidery, and had requested you to join her. You never had time to learn the special embroidery stitches, learning the basics to sew patches into clothing and fix tears. Instead, you carried a few napkins that had sprouted holes, working on them as Violet embroidered.

"Why did you never marry?" Violet began the conversation. The two of you had discussed the topic before, but not the why.

You stuttered out a response. "Having a husband never appealed to me Ma'am. I'm very fortunate that I don't have to marry. I got to focus on my studies, teaching all the local children how to read and write and calculate simple sums. It's not a brilliant education but it's something that quite a few children never get to learn."

Violet smiled. "Perhaps you could finally persuade Hyacinth that her education is important then."

"Nothing will change Miss Hyacinth's mind once she has set it. I'm sure the Governess you employ will do a brilliant job with her education." You laughed slightly. "Besides, I couldn't leave you to-" You cut yourself off, suddenly embarrassed at what you're saying.

Violet isn't bothered. Without looking up from her stitching, she silently reached over a hand to hold yours. Both of you ceased your work, enjoying the silence and comfort of each other's company.

"You're very dear to me Y/N." Violet said quietly, also seeming embarrassed at her own words. "You mean a great deal to the family as well." She was stumbling for the right words to say, dancing around the main subject.

"I feel very fondly of you to Violet." The woman lightly gasped as you said her name gently. You spoke her name, not her title, not ma'am, not mistress. You had called her Violet. Her reaction had you second guessing everything you had ever done as you bundled your napkins into your arms and stood, pulling your hand from hers. "My apologies Ma'am. I shall be in the servant quarters." Your eyes were trained to the ground, inspecting the dust on your shoes. "If you need me for anything, I am simply a call away."

You had just broken one of the biggest class rules of society. Never ever address a person of higher standing by their name. You show respect, you use their title or honorifics, never their name alone and certainly not their first name. By doing so, you were equivocating yourself with her family or her lover.

And you were not either of those things. You couldn't possibly be.

You kept your distance from Violet thereafter, performed your duties perfectly. You never spoke out of turn, offered your opinion only when it was asked for and didn't add any more detail than your mistress required. Violet had an tinge of pity in her eyes whenever she looked at you now and it made your blood boil. You did not need her pity, why was she offering you pity?

In her own mind, Violet was scheming. You thought you were in trouble, that you had overstepped. But Violet wished you would overstep more. She did not mind that you used her name, it stirred a feeling inside of her she had never experienced before, certainly not with another woman. She wanted that feeling to return.

The glowing, pulsing warmth that came when you used her name, when she held your hand. The shivers that tumbled down her spine and sizzled into darkness and dread when you had pulled away. She didn't know what was happening to her, she had never considered anything like this before.

Violet Bridgerton was a mother, she cared for her children above her own needs and desires, right? She had done so for over a decade. But what was stopping her from pursuing her own desires? Anthony was married, there was new Viscountess to herd the Bridgerton debutantes through the marriage mart. Violet could relax, she could breath.

Most importantly, she could chase that consuming feeling she felt when she was with you.

Violet had cornered you in her bedchambers after getting dressed, asking to speak with for a moment. You kept your head down, terrified that you would lose what you had started to cherish, this family and her.

"I don't know how to say what I want to say correctly." She began.

Your eyebrows furrowed as the conversation led down a vastly different path than what you had thought.

"But I cannot remain silent." She continued, taking a deep breath and wringing her hands together. "There is a feeling, deep in my chest, whenever I am with you. It is like a string pulling me towards you and filling my heart with warmth and love and-"

"The feeling like you cannot breath when they are not near. The world seems to slow and mysteries make sense..." You trail off with uncertainty after interrupting her, trying to help her find the words.

"Do you feel it?" Violet had taken a step toward you, her hands hovering by her side, begging to reach out and hold yours.

Silently, you indulge her, reaching forward and taking her hands in yours. Instantly, it's like there is a weight that had been lifted. "This feeling is why I could never marry." You whisper to her, sharing your secret. "There has never been a man to make me feel this way."

Violet sighed. "It was different with Edmund. He was my everything, possessing my every thought and corrupting my mind. He was the air that we breathed, when he- When he died, I locked that feeling away, never wanting to be hurt that way again. I continued to live for the sake of my children, teaching them that love is worth all the pain it might bring."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You don't hurt me my dear." She confessed. "You heal me."

the request is finally here!!! I've got a few others in my inbox rn and I promise I'm getting to them. I just got back from a stunning cruise around the mediterranean so am just settling back into my work routine for the summer x

[thetombedspirit]

SPOILERS FOR AVATAR: FRONTIERS OF PANDORA - TAP CON-1 AND THE SARENTU MOOT MASSACRE

I wanted to post my full thoughts about the game after i finished my first playthrough, but I can not just keep what I just learned in my head, so be forwarned; Spoilers ahead.

Let me just say that the entire TAP CON-1 quest made me feel... disgusting.

That word perfectly encapsulates how I felt the second I heard how they made the children shower in disinfectant, as if they were diseased. I felt gross, and messy and just absolutely disgusted.

And then the massacre happened and I was just... I don't know how to describe it. Like, I knew Alma was involved, but the way that it all just poured out. That she was there during the whole slaughter, how she admits to playing ignorant, how she let the children believe the lie that their families abandoned them and it just made me think of everything else she's done since knowing her.

She did nothing as the RDA barged into the moot and slaughtered the entire clan.

She did nothing as the children were literally shoved into cages like animals, shackled like prisoners and then washed and striped of everything that made them Sarentu.

She proceeds to teach them what she sought out to teach, knowing damn well the consequences of wanting her school program to work.

She did nothing as Mercer and Harding trained/abused the children.

She did nothing when Mercer killed Aha'ri (which should have been the breaking point at this rate)

She left the children in cyrosleep for 16 years, not once thinking to check if they were actually alive.

She proceeds to keep her secret, and even expresses confirmation in an audio log that "they made the right choice" when bringing up how the Sarentu children are adjusting to the resistance. Basically implying that she's glad her teachings worked.

She tells Ri'nela that the Kame'tire can't be trusted, alienating the clan that she indirectly ruined with her ambitions.

And when she's finally figured out and Alma's Avatar is killed, she laments about never experiencing Pandora freely anymore, as if she expects Ri'nela and MC to lament with her.

After the whole funeral, I began rummaging it around in my head, and in the end, I concluded that the death of Alma's avatar and her actions are in direct parallel to Jake's.

Jake wanted to be part of the Na'vi because he got to actually connect with it's culture and worked to become a part of it. And when he screwed up, he worked to earn the Omaticaya's forgiveness, eventually becoming a true Na'vi.

Alma pretty much already saw herself as part of the Na'vi, despite barely doing anything. When Nor happily shows them the Sarentu knife and then laments how it was kept as a trophy and Alma said it was back with "us", like she was implying herself as part of the Sarentu. And she did very little if nothing at all to amend her mistakes, instead opting to play the victim here.

I also thought about Grace here, and her own sins with her own school. But the difference there is that she actually worked to make a friendship with the Omaticaya before taking in students. And her school was out in the forest, made from wood and full of life and learning. Alma's school was indoors inside metal walls, cut off from the outside world and they were taught one-sided knowledge that boosted the RDA's image and tarnished the Na'vi's.

And then Grace's School failed, she to seemed to loose herself to her avatar, preferring her avatar body to her human,, but she never once tried to cover up her mistakes. And she tried to make things work.

Alma did nothing but cover up the truth until it couldn't be hidden anymore.

In the end, the fact that just one quest could make me feel like this and have me think about all this really shows that the story works.

So it's gameplay is a little too simular to Far Cry. Who cares? So long as the story has me feeling complex emotions like this, I will play it.

Even if the glitches get a little annoying, I still enjoy every bit of this game.

And I will post my full thoughts on the game once I've finished it.

Anyway, thanks for putting up with my train wreck of thoughts!

[whxtedreams]

Chapter 1 - Sunshine

Summary

Past: You run into Raiders while looting nearby houses and meet an unwanted companion.

Present: Tommy and Joel find you in an abandoned church.

CW // mentions of loss, violence, threats of sexual assault (hinted), blood

Word count: 8,071

Before

Autumn 2019

The first time you killed someone, you hadn't waited around to watch them die. You had sunk your knife into his chest and fled quickly, unable to bear the thought of watching the life slip from their eyes. You heard their screams as they choked on their own blood, but you hadn't seen the light fade from their eyes. It was a memory you tried not to think too much about, and you were grateful that you hadn't witnessed their inevitable death.

It’s been six years and twenty-eight bodies later – a number that didn't seem real – and you had watched each one of them take their last breath. 

Six long years since your brother passed, six years filled with grief, and more than a half a decade spent on the run in order to protect his legacy and the innocent life he had created. You had thought you had lost it all, your only family, your only guide, but your niece kept you going. As you ran across the country, trying everything in your power to protect her, you couldn't help but wish that your brother could have been there beside you, watching out for the both of you as he had always done. Even if he was an asshole.

He had been the one to shoulder all of the violent realities of this world so that you could live a life untouched by the stain of blood. But he had made a mistake, and that mistake had cost him his life, leaving that burden for you to carry in his stead. With a heavy heart, you had taken it and done what you had to do to protect your niece, to keep her safe and her own hands clean of murder. 

He had trained you both to kill the infected, preparing you with the knowledge and skills you would need to survive. But he had also made it clear that he was the one who would handle the humans you encountered, making sure that the two of you wouldn't have to deal with that particular danger by yourselves.

It wasn't until you were in your early twenties that he began to teach you the basics of how to kill people quickly and quietly. He made you promise that you would never use those skills unless they were absolutely necessary, and you agreed. You had no desire to hurt people, and you hoped you would never need to break your promise to your brother, but you were prepared to do so if it meant keeping your niece safe.

"I don't care how angry someone makes you," he states flatly as he wipes the blood off his knife with a cloth, looking over at you. "You don't kill 'em. You only kill ‘em when they’re gonna kill you." His tone carries a warning as he speaks to you. "What do you do when someone makes you angry?" He looks over at you from the opposite side of the rusted dining table in the abandoned house where you decided to make camp for the night. 

You roll your eyes and glance down at Annabel, who's passed out in the corner of the room, her mouth hanging open and soft snores escaping her lips. Her peaceful slumber, despite the fact that you'd been engaged in a highly dangerous and potentially deadly situation no more than an hour ago, is a bit comical to you, and you let out a soft laugh as you turn back to face Dean.

“Tell me.” He demands as he moves to clean his next knife. 

“I walk away.” 

He looks up from his knife and nods. “Keep going.” 

You sigh and cross your arms as you lean back in your chair, and you repeat his teachings to him. "Then I grab a weapon and beat the shit out of something. Not someone, and never with my hands," you say clearly. He nods at you again, seemingly satisfied with your answer, as he continues to clean his knife and sheath it away. 

“Good. And what do you do when you feel nothing?” He asks after a moment. 

“I get the fuck away from everyone, listen to music.”

He nods. 

You shake your head in disbelief and consider your options as you spin the knife in your hand, standing in front of yet another empty cupboard. You've gone down two streets already, checking each house for any possible source of sustenance, and yet it seems like every cupboard, fridge, and dresser in the houses you've looted has already been ransacked.

You left your niece, Annabel behind at a house a few streets away while you took the burden of looting the small town you found yourselves in. She had wanted to come of course, but you wanted her safe behind locked doors while you searched for supplies.

It hadn't been easy to leave her behind, but it was the right thing to do. But the moment you were away from her side, you couldn't stop thinking about her safety. What if someone were to break in while she was alone? What if they discovered that she had been left behind there? 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a door creaking open, followed by a whispered curse as someone else enters the house. You still for a moment, listening for any further sound as you contemplate your next move. It's likely that another survivor had broken in and was searching for supplies, and you weren't sure how they'd react to finding you here.

"I thought I told you to be fucking quiet." A man hisses in a hushed tone, his voice full of annoyance and anger.

"Not my fault the door creaked," Another voice whispers back defensively. "The bitch probably knows we're here now, anyway," he adds, and you hear them both move further into the home.

You quickly duck behind the island in the kitchen, hiding from the two men who'd just entered the house. There’s a room between you and the invaders, the dining room, and in the silence of the house every noise can and will be heard. You try to slow your breathing, hoping that both of them will go left into the loungeroom first instead of right into the connecting dining room. The footsteps of the men echo in your ears, one set lighter and quicker than the other. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest, and your eyes stay wide, your attention focused on every single noise the men make.

Your heart plummets at the realisation that one set of footsteps has entered the dining room while the other has entered the living room. Okay, one on one then. You could take one out before the other realised what was happening. You hold your breath, listening for any sign of the approaching footsteps getting any closer to your position as you take your knife from your belt. Maybe, just maybe, you could take one of them out before they knew what hit them.

The man who entered the dining room slowly enters the kitchen and rounds the island with his back to you as he inspects the walk-in pantry to your right. Perfect. You quietly leap from your crouched position, wrapping your free hand around his mouth to muffle the yell that escapes his lips as you kick the back of his knee and send him to the ground. The force of your arm has done its job, muffling the sound of his surprised yelp as you quickly stab the side of his throat and twist before pulling it out. His blood spurts out from the wound, and you close your eyes and wince as it hits your face. You let go of him, and his hand flies to his wound as he wheezes. In his final attempt, he fires the gun in his hand aimlessly to alert the other man. 

Shit.

“Josh!” The other man yells from across the house, and his boots move quickly towards the kitchen.

Fuck.

The man - Josh - drops to the floor, his blood pooling out from his wound and covering the ground below him. His partner enters the room with his gun raised as he sees the bloody scene in front of him, his expression quickly shifting from one of annoyance to shock and anger.

You stand above Josh's body, his blood dripping from both your face and your knife, as the other man finally looks you in the eyes and raises his gun to you. You hold your breath as your attention is placed entirely on his intentions, and your mind races to come up with a plan to avoid getting shot.

You freeze, staring at the man in front of you. Your mind races as you try to calculate your next move in the split second you have before he pulls the trigger. Your thoughts are quickly interrupted by the sound of the trigger being pulled back. Your eyes widen as you dive back behind the counter, the bullet grazing the side of your arm, making you drop your knife in the process. 

You fall to the ground behind the counter and scramble into a crouched position, grunting at the pain in your arm as you push yourself back up. You quickly assess your arm, noticing that the bullet had only nicked you and that the blood was only steadily oozing out of the small gash. It didn't appear to be anything too serious, but any amount of blood loss is dangerous in this world.

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

“Who are you?” You demand, hoping they weren’t tracking you and just unfortunate to cross you. 

“Think you know already bitch.” He snaps back. 

Raiders. Fucking Raiders . 

Two weeks, you’d been running from a group of raiders. Two long weeks. You were ambushed by the group while you’d been on the train tracks with Annabel. You had managed to shoot one of them before you bolted with Annabel’s hand in yours. Luckily, they wanted you both alive otherwise, you would have been shot as you ran. Or unlucky if you think about it. 

Pretty women were hard to come by these days, they had said. 

The man, clearly impatient, rounds the counter just as his friend did. Instead of attacking him, you move around the kitchen island to keep the counters between you. When reaching the next corner of the island, you find the path clear to the dining room. With a deep breath, you bolt from your hiding spot and run hunched over into the dining room. Shots are fired as you run and your hands cover the back of your head instinctively as you move to your next cover.

The man swears as his bullets miss you. As you run from the dining room and into the entryway, you notice the men have blocked the front door with a table. Sure, you could easily move it but the boots slamming into the wood panelling underneath him, you know you don’t have the time. 

At your short stutter in movement, another bullet is shot and you duck. The bullet hits the table and you scramble into the living room, thankful he’s a shit shot. 

Quick thinking has you lifting your baseball bat from the strap on your bag as you run past the stairs leading upstairs and into a connecting room. You slam the door shut as the man shoves against it with his shoulder as you force it closed with all your body weight. You’re thankful – yet again – the door has a lock and as the door is shoved again, you lock it. 

Knowing a simple lock will not be enough to keep him out, You turn around and examine the room for anything to block the door with. Realising you have stumbled into an old nursery, you groan and shake your head.

Your brain going into overdrive, you decide to give up on blocking the door and stride over to the window. With a few tugs, you swear as you realise it’s locked. Looking around the room frantically for something to throw through the glass. But it’s a nursery, everything in here is soft and harmless. 

Your head snaps to the door as he slams into it again, the sound of wood breaking. Time is ticking. You look down at the baseball bat in your hand and sigh, wishing you hadn’t dropped your knife. Knowing you have to fight him instead of fleeing, you pick up the heaviest toy scattered on the floor. You find a decent sized wooden toy truck and toss it a few times in your hand and shrug at the weight. Not perfect, but it’ll do. 

You move towards the edge of the room besides the door. You wait with your bat in one hand and the toy raised in the other as the door creaks and groans. One last shove and the door breaks off its hinges and falls to the ground, leaving a cloud of dust in the air.   

The man stumbles through into the room, shocked and unprepared at the sudden break of the door. While his brain catches up to the new environment, you locate the gun in his hand and throw the wooden toy at his hands as he raises the gun. With a shocked grunt, the man drops the gun and you re-grip the bat with both hands as you land a hit at the back of his head. He stumbles forward and you kick the gun across the room as he falls onto the crib in the middle of the room.

The wooden crib breaks under his weight and you step over broken wood before stopping beside him. You raise your bat and land another strong hit to the back of his head. The man screams in agony as he slumps into the pile of wood. You let out a puff of air before you lift the bat over your head and swing again, and he stills on the floor. The bat cracks as you hit his skull again and you swear as the wood breaks in two. 

“Fuck,” You swear under your breath as you toss your favourite bat across the room in anger.

You nudge the man beneath you with your foot. He groans and you sigh. In this moment, you feel nothing. Your wound is there, the pain slowly creeping back into your body, but you don’t feel it. You aren’t afraid of death. You don't feel as protective towards Annabel as you should be. You are numb. Emotionless and void of feeling as you stare down at the man in front of you. His breaths come in short, panicked gasps. There is nothing you feel except the emptiness in your heart, your thoughts cold and indifferent to everything.

You are past the point of anger. You slip into nothing. 

 “And what do you do when you feel nothing?” 

“I get the fuck away from everyone, listen to music.”

You attempt to wipe the blood off your face from the man you stabbed but end up smearing it across your face. “Stay here.” You sigh emotionlessly as you turn and leave the room.         

Walking back into the kitchen, you step over the man you stabbed, picking up your knife. You kneel beside him, looting his body for anything useful. Your efforts are only rewarded with his gun and ammo. 

Upon reentering the nursery, you find the man in the same spot. Blood is splattered around him from the blunt trauma to his head and you shake your head as you step towards him, his blood tainting what is supposed to be an innocent room. 

Your expression is cold and determined as you stare down at him as he groans in pain. You lean down and grab onto his jacket as you turn him over onto his back. The wood cracks beneath him and moor blood seeps out from his head wound, staining what used to be a baby's crib. 

You take a deep breath as you move to straddle him. He squirms under you and cries, his hands covering his bloody and puffy face. You take your knife in both hands and lunge it into his chest. His hands claw at your arms as he screams again. You pull your knife from his chest before using all your strength to piece his chest again. And again. And again. 

His screams stop somewhere between the sixth and seventh time.  

You blink as you stab him again, blood all over your hands as they shake on the handle of your knife as it lodges into his chest again.

You pull your knife from his lifeless body and stand up on shaky legs. You look down at your body, the front of your clothes soaked in crimson blood, and are struck by the intensity of your actions. You put your knife back into its sheath on your belt before you can do any more damage, taking in the sight all around you.

Turning back to the man you mutilated only moments ago, you sigh as you pick up his handgun from where you kicked it. You look down at the body in front of you; his body a testament to the brutality you'd just perpetrated. The blood-covered floor was a grim reminder of the violence that had just taken place.

You shrug your backpack from your shoulders and onto a changing table across the room. You take your gun from your holster and reload it with a new magazine. You bag their two guns and put your own back in its thigh holster. 

Six years and thirty bodies now. Dean would be both proud and pissed.

After moving the table from the front door, you ran between houses and hopped fences to track back to Annabel as fast as you could, leaving bloody footprints as you went. The pain in your wounded arm is starting to become more noticeable as the adrenaline rush fades, reality sinking in, and you are beginning to wonder if you had done the right thing. But as you race back to Annabel, your mind is fixed on her well-being before anything else. You need to ensure that she is safe and unharmed, that no one has discovered her and is still alive. The thought of losing her terrifies you.

So when you open the front door of the house you were staying in and heard a man's voice, your anger rose again.

Closing the door behind you, you unholster your gun and quietly step down the hall towards the archway that leads into the lounge room. You take it slow, one step at a time, hoping the floorboards won't creak and give away your position. As you get closer and closer, the sound of laughter grows clearer and clearer in your ears. It's her. It's Annabel. And she's laughing? Just hearing her laugh lifts your heart and makes your chest clench as you step to the side of the archway.  

You slowly step into the archway, your gun drawn and ready to fire any potential threat that crosses your path. You spot your niece sitting cross-legged on the couch first and then notice the dark curls of a man sitting opposite her, facing away from you as he laughs at something she said. You feel your heart race, your mind running on pure animalistic instincts as you try to identify this man sitting so casually, laughing with Annabel as she tosses her rubber ball in the air.

Your eyes narrow at the sight of him, and your trigger finger tightens ever so slightly. You would have shot him right then and there, but she’s laughing .

Annabel's eyes widen as they fall upon you in the archway, the gun in your hand a clear warning for her not to say anything. She lets the ball drop to the ground, and it rolls across the floor to the man. 

“Get up, slowly." You bark the words at the unidentified man, your voice low and lacking any emotion. Your eyes are still fixed on him as you slowly enter the room, your gun still trained on him. 

He sighs and slowly stands from the chair when you order him to, his back to you as he raises his arms. "You must be the aunt," he says in a calm tone, not showing any signs of the fear you'd expect. You can hear the slight note of recognition in his voice, and a chill goes down your spine as you hear him speak. You still don't take your eyes off his back, waiting for him to turn to face you.

"Turn around," you say in a cold, firm tone.

"Is that your blood?" Annabel's voice cracks as she takes in your bloody appearance, and her eyes widen as she stares at you in horror and fear.

He turns slowly with his arms still raised, and once again, you study him carefully as he faces you. Now that he faces you, you can see the black eye forming on his face, and your shoulders relax slightly. At least Annabel didn't let him in willingly. He has dark, curly, shoulder-length hair and a moustache but is otherwise cleanly shaven. He wears a dark blue button-up, his toned arms visible through the fabric.

"That’s a lot of blood," the man mutters under his breath as he takes in your appearance. You can see his eyes study your blood-stained body, travelling down and back again as they stop at the gash on your arm. His eyes on you make you feel sick. "You're hurt, I can-" 

"Don't move." Your words stop him in his tracks, and it's evident from your tone that you won't tolerate him disregarding your instructions. “I’m fine.” You snap at the man and focus your gun on his head. 

"You're bleeding, pal. You look like hell," the man says, his voice showing genuine concern. "Here, let me see your arm-" he adds, moving his hand to gesture in the direction of his bag across the room beside Annabel.

“I said don’t MOVE .” You shout, and his arm freezes in response to your shouted command. Your words echo through the living room, and for a moment, you and the man just stare at each other. Your emotions are mixed, between the pain and shock from your own injuries and the strange mix of guilt and suspicion you have towards this man who seems to be genuinely trying to help you. Your gun is still raised, your finger still on the trigger, and you still haven’t decided if you can trust him. You’ve killed two men today, you can easily make that number three.

A soft hand touches your arm, and you flinch in response, caught off guard by the sudden change in your surroundings. You hadn't noticed that your niece had moved, and she whispers into your ear. "He's not a raider, and he’s not him. " Your muscles tense even more as you glare at the man before you, ready to kill him at the first sign of betrayal. But the words of Annabel leave you in a state of disbelief. How does she know he's not a raider? But the conviction in her tone gives you pause.  

You take your eyes off the man in front of you and look down at your niece beside you. Her eyes are soft and pleading with you, appealing to your sense of reason. You suck in a breath and close your eyes. You're tired, you're hurt, and you don't know what to think. But somehow, her words manage to penetrate the fog surrounding your thoughts, and for a moment, you entertain the possibility that she's right. You close your eyes and try to fight back the flashbacks of him. 

“He won’t hurt us.”

“Annabel” You sigh. “You don’t know that. I didn’t think he would hurt me either.” You open your eyes and focus back on the man in front of you. 

“He says he can help us. He’s heading to a town. A good town. Good people.” She rambles, trying to get her words out before you stop her again. 

You scoff, shaking your head. “Are you fucking stupid?”

She laughs softly beside you, and the sound sends a chill down your spine. Her laughter is dark and void of humour, and her voice seems colder than you've ever heard it before. "Maybe I am," she says quietly, as if speaking to herself. "But I'm sick of running." The change in her attitude and tone worries you, but you're too exhausted to say anything about it.

You frown at your niece's confession and grip the gun in your hands. "Fuck," you mutter as you lower the gun. The man lowers his arms, but your eyes are fixed on him as you glare at him. "You make one dodgy move, and I will put a bullet between your eyes." You snarl at him, the tension in your voice making your intentions crystal clear. "Am I clear?" You wait for his reply, your eyes never leaving him. You don't trust him yet, but you're willing to hear him out.

The man nods. “The name’s Tommy.” He smiles, and you roll your eyes. “Just – just let me take a look at your arm. Or are you just gonna bleed to death?”

“Fuck you.” You snap, taking a step forward and wincing as you move your arm. “Fine.”

Tommy guides you over to the chair he'd previously occupied and has you sit down after taking your bag from you and placing it beside the couch. Your eyes never leave him as he moves, although Annabel's presence brings you a slight sense of comfort.

Tommy drags his bag over to the couch and sits down next to you; his legs stretched out in front of him as he places the bag between his legs."How's the pain?" he asks, studying your injury as his eyes go wide at the sight of your bloodied arm. A few drops of blood trail down from your arm and pool on the chair beneath you. As he speaks, you look over at his black eye and notice a few light bruises around his cheek and neck. Annabel had definitely gotten a few good hits in.

"Don't feel anything." You mutter a short and somewhat snippy response as he lifts your arm for a better look. He seems to ignore your attitude and simply focuses on assessing the severity of your injuries. "How's the eye?" You smirk at him, and his expression changes to one of amusement as he shakes his head, the black eye on his face clearly still bothering him. You can't help but feel a small sense of pride at seeing his injury. 

The tension in the room is starting to shift, your mistrust for Tommy slowly turning to more mutual respect. Your niece had warned you that this man might not have been a raider and that he wasn't hostile. Now you're starting to believe her. He still hasn't given you enough reason to trust him fully, but your suspicions are slowly being tempered by curiosity.

"What happened out there?" Annabel asks as she rises from her chair and rounds the back of the couch to your bag, rummaging through it and pulling out your walkman and headphones. She tosses the headphones in your direction, and your tension eases ever so slightly as you catch the gesture from your niece. She knows your music calms you, a reminder of the safety and comfort you had back in your old home before everything fell apart. 

Tommy digs through his own bag, taking out a water bottle and a small med-pack and placing it on the couch beside him. You appreciate the gesture and keep a watchful eye on the pack and any movements Tommy makes as you place one of your headphones over your ear while the one closest to Tommy sits behind your ear to hear him still. You turn on your walkman, the calming sound of music filling your ears and sending a surge of relief through you. Your heart begins to beat slowly and evenly as your muscles relax and your tension subsides. 

"Ran into some raiders still tracking us," you say as you settle back onto the couch with your headphones still playing your music. Tommy takes the water bottle and pours it over your wounded arm to wash away some of the blood, and you can't help but sigh with relief as the water touches your skin. The music and the sensation of the water on your arm are enough to make you feel more at ease, and your eyes droop slightly with a sudden sense of relaxation.

"Must have been a lot of raiders, from the amount of blood on you," Tommy says while gesturing to your bloodied clothes. He tightens the lid back on the bottled water before placing it back on the ground and reaching for the med pack. You can't help but notice the needle and thread along with the bottle of alcohol rub, and your tension and suspicion heighten once again. Why does he need the needle and thread? Is he going to sew up your wound? The thought of him poking a needle into your injured arm makes your skin crawl.

"Just the two..." You start to say, but your words are cut short as your frown deepens at the sight of the needle. The man sighs in response to the expression on your face, and you wonder for a moment if he can read your thoughts. You consider objecting or fighting back, but with the pain beginning to creep into your arm and your emotions slowly coming back due to the music in your ears, you decide against it.

"Yes, I've done this before, and yes, this will hurt," the man answers your silent questions. His words are paired with an apologetic smile, which does nothing to ease the tension of the situation. 

Tommy opens the bottle of alcohol rub and pours it onto a clean cloth from the med pack, using it to wipe your wound clean gently. You bite your lip and look away from him, still refusing to look at him directly.

Once satisfied, he places the bottle back in the pack and picks up the needle and thread from his lap. He holds the needle and thread in his hands, and your body tenses up even more when he moves towards your injured arm. "You need stitches," he adds. You know he's right, but the thought of the needle touching your wound and poking through your flesh makes your stomach churn, your heart pound and your breathing quicken. Your eyes remain glued to him, your body tensing in anticipation. 

"Fine," you grit out through clenched teeth, turning away from Tommy as you refuse to watch him pierce your skin with the needle. 

The music in your ear still plays at full volume, still sending waves of comfort into your mind and body. But your grip on the gun in your hand stays tight, your entire body on edge and tense. Your other arm remains held firmly in place by Tommy’s hand as the needle and thread pieces through your skin as he begins to patch you up, preventing you from making any sudden movements. 

You focus on the music in your ears as Tommy stitches your wound, and Annabel watches from the armchair opposite you. Once he's finished stitching your wound, Tommy lightly taps your arm. You look over at him with confusion until he tilts his head down towards your arm, and you follow his gaze. Slowly and carefully, you lift your arm and inspect his work. To your surprise, Tommy has done a decent job; the stitches are small and even. You consider thanking him for sewing up your wound, but you find yourself unable to muster the words of appreciation.

"How many times have you been stitched up? You barely flinched," Tommy's voice breaks your thoughts as he finishes up and discards the remaining thread, closing up his med pack. 

You remain silent for a moment, processing his question as you look at your new scar and wondering if you should answer it. You consider explaining that the music in your ears helped keep you calm or that your pride and desire not to seem weak kept you from making a fuss, but you decide against it. Instead, you simply shrug in response to his question, leaving him to draw his own conclusions.  

"She has a weird tolerance to pain," Annabel suddenly interjects into the conversation, and both you and Tommy's heads snap towards her in surprise."I remember once when we were kids, she fell down a concrete path on a hill, and she pretty much tore all the skin from her leg," Annabel continues, and both you and Tommy share a look as you recall the memory. "There was so much blood, and she just got up and didn't care. I think I cried enough for her," Annabel adds lightly.    

Tommy watches you, his face neutral but his eyes betraying a small flash of surprise at the revelation about your high pain tolerance. 

You want to say something, anything, to deny Annabel's words, but you can't find the words to say. Instead, you simply smile slightly and shrug.

"Well then," Tommy nods in response to Annabel as he stands up from the chair. "I passed a river about an hour's walk back. How about we get you cleaned up, and then I can bandage that arm?" His smile warms his expression, and he extends a hand towards you. 

Your response is immediate and harsh, swatting his hand away and glaring at him. "I can stand by myself," you growl out, and your tone and body language make your irritation clear. You're not ready to trust him yet, and he knows it. Even so, he continues to smile and keeps his tone light.

"Alright, little miss sunshine," Tommy teases in response to your glare, and you can't help but roll your eyes in annoyance.

You remove the headphones and turn off your walkman, stowing them away in your bag before standing to face him. You reluctantly holster your gun and cross your arms, glaring in his direction.

“If you try anything-” 

"You'll shoot me, I get it, Sunshine," he responds with a smirk, unbothered by your harsh tone. He adjusts his bag on his back and begins to walk out of the room. His body language is relaxed despite the tension in the air. He doesn't seem to take any offence to your words or demeanour.  

"I like him," Annabel grins as she picks up her own bag and begins to follow him. "He doesn't put up with your bullshit," she remarks as she passes you, picking up her ball on the way out, and you grimace slightly at her words, annoyed by her attempt at humour.

It took you two weeks before you stopped keeping a hand on your holstered gun around Tommy. 

Now

Spring 2024 

You continue tossing the rubber ball against the wall, your mind fixated on the object in your hands. Your mind wanders to the lifeless bodies that litter the room, the souls you took in cold blood. The room is cold to the touch and feels devoid of life. You look around at the corpses surrounding you and feel nothing. They deserved this. Deserved worse than this.

The soft groans from the last remaining man fill the room, where he sits tied to the chair in the middle of the room. He is barely alive after what you did to him, and you left him to suffer instead of a quick death.

You have never been one to believe in religion, but as you sit in the church basement, you feel uneasy about committing acts of murder on a once sacred ground. 

You keep tossing the ball, watching it bounce off the rotting walls and floor, listening to the sound of it splashing in the blood that covers the floor. You try to focus on the ball and ignore the gruesome scene around you. But the more you try to block out the images, the clearer they become in the candle-lit room. 

Your mind is a mess of conflicting emotions as you keep tossing the ball, flashbacks of your niece fill your thoughts—her laughter, her smile and then her blood as it soaks your clothes as you hold her for the final time. You throw the ball against the wall with even more force as you try to block out the thoughts of Annabel. The blood splatters over you from the splash from the ball, covering you in more cold blood. You sink to the floor, overwhelmed by regret and guilt.

You sit on the floor, surrounded by a sea of blood, numb to everything around you. Tears should've been streaming down your face, but no tears came. The tears never came, just numbness. You feel numb to the world, like a soulless creature who has lost their humanity. You are frozen in place, unable to move or see anything beyond the red blur in front of you.

You would kill for your old walkman. To have music again. 

You listen to the footsteps and voices as they echo throughout the church, but you don't care who they belong to. You close your eyes, letting out a long, deep sigh, as you rest your head against the wall. You couldn't bring yourself to care or lift a finger to defend yourself.

You open your eyes and look up, finding Tommy staring at you, shock and relief on his face. He’s holding his rifle in his hands, and his eyes widen as he takes in the scene in front of him, at the mutilated man in the chair whose soft wheezes begin to rise at the sight of Tommy. Good , he is still alive and suffering.   

Another man steps into the doorway behind him, but you don't care or pay attention to them, your mind still in a fog. You just stare back at Tommy with blank, empty eyes, not saying a word.

Tommy nods and steps over a body that blocks the doorway, followed by the man behind him.  

“You were meant to wait for me.” Tommy avoids your eyes, his voice firm and authoritative as he stalks over to the tortured man. 

“You were busy.” You mutter, mostly to yourself. 

Tommy lifts the man's head by his hair and examines the torture and blood-stained scene you had caused. He nods in approval, a small smirk forming on both your faces as he lets the man's head drop back to his chest.

The man lets out a groan, but you feel no pity or sympathy for him. You feel a surge of satisfaction at the sound of the man's pain, a sense of justice being served for what he had done to your niece. He deserves to suffer for his crimes. 

"They could have killed you, Sunshine," Tommy's southern accent drew out his words as you shook your head at his nickname for you. The nickname felt like a stab to the heart, a reminder of who you had been before your niece's death. 

Maybe he still believes in you, even after everything you have done. Maybe there was still some good left in you, some shred of humanity. But you weren't so sure anymore. You enjoyed killing them, after all.

“I think we both know they didn’t stand a chance.” You huff out a dry laugh, frowning as your stomach begins to hurt from the movement.

Tommy shakes his head as he bends down to collect your knife and gun on the floor you had dropped after you had killed everyone. 

You had become a deadly pair, hunting down and killing those responsible for your niece's death. Maybe you had lost yourself along the way to the neverending anger, but Tommy still believed in you and still saw the good in you even though you couldn't. 

"Your luck will run out one day," the other man's voice startles you, sounding low and gruff. You look up from Tommy and turn your eyes towards the man behind him, who is holding a shotgun. You narrow your eyes, trying to remember who he is. You haven’t seen him around Jackson before. But even if he lived there the whole time, you were never good with faces. Who is he ? You remain wary and on edge, not sure who to trust except for Tommy.

Tommy seems to sense your distrust, and he turns back to the man behind him, his hand outstretched. “This is Joel. Remember?” 

Joel? There was no way this was Joel, his brother, right? 

“My brother.” He continues, and you tilt your head in a nod. “He was in Jackson for a night a while back... You remember that, right?”

You stare at Joel, studying his appearance and comparing it to Tommy's. He certainly looks like him, but he is definitely older. He has the same dark hair as Tommy but scattered with a few grey hairs. You aren’t sure whether that is from the stress of the apocalypse or his age.

Your brow furrows, and you shake your head, your memory of him lost. "I was beginning to worry that your first impression of me would be one of a blood-soaked killer." You grin through drowsily-lidded eyes as the exhaustion from the bloodshed begins to weigh heavily on you.

Joel keeps darting his eyes between you and the carnage around him. You can see him taking in the scene you had created, his face showing a mix of shock and curiosity. 

“You don’ need to worry about what I think of ya, darl’” Joel mutters, his eyes not meeting yours as he nudges a corpse on the ground with his foot.

"Nice to know what you'll look like in a few years, though, old man," You chuckle with a lighthearted tone. But as you finish the sentence, you feel a pain in your stomach and begin to wince and cough. The air is tight in your lungs, and you can barely catch your breath. The adrenaline from the fight is slowly wearing off, making you more aware of your injuries. Your hand shoots to your stomach as you clutch it, trying to steady your breath through the new pain.

Shit . The anger and numbness is starting to slip, and you begin to feel your body once more. “Tommy,” You gasp as pain and panic soar through you. 

Tommy shoves his gun into Joel's chest and strides the short distance to you. He kneels before you and assesses you for any of your injuries. His voice is stern as he questions, "How much of this blood is your own?" Although his voice is unwavering, you can see the fear in his eyes as he looks down at you.

You look down at yourself and see how much blood you are covered in. It is hard to tell what is yours or your victims' blood. You try to recall the fight, but everything is a blurry mess inside your head from your mind being clouded with anger. You feel sick, the pain creeping through your body. You aren’t used to physical pain; you don’t know how to deal with the unwanted feeling. 

"I don't know," You reply. "I think most of it belongs to them..." You gesture towards the lifeless bodies that surround you.

Tommy nods and lifts up your shirt, and you let out a grunt of pain as the shirt is stuck to your skin from the blood. You wince at the sight, following his gaze to the large slash covering your stomach. Confusion washes over you, not understanding how you could have missed an injury like that. Reality begins to sink in at the state of your injury, and you feel terrified. A feeling you aren’t used to.  

You let out another pained grunt as his hand reaches out to touch the wound, instincts taking over and making you grab his wrist defensively.

"Don't," You gasp, too weak to hold it together anymore. “It hurts Tommy. Why does it hurt?” The pain begins to rise along with the nausea. Your stomach churns, and your grip on Tommy tightens as you lean over to the side and dry reach. Tommy grabs your hair and holds it back with his free hand as you finally spill your stomach’s contents on the floor beside you. Your head throbs, the overwhelming dizziness clouding your head.

“You’re okay, Sunshine. You’re going to be okay.” Tommy whispers, letting go of your hair and wiping the vomit from your mouth.   

“She good?” Joel questions from across the room. 

Tommy slowly nods. “It’s not deep, but if she’s feeling the pain, it's fucking bad.” He grimaces at the sight of your stomach. 

Tommy reaches his hand out to Joel and asks for the bandages in his brother's backpack. Joel shifts his backpack off his back and kneels on the blood-stained floor as he digs through his bag to find the supplies. 

You wheeze, the pain of vomiting with your wound overbearing.  

Tommy catches the bandages as Joel tosses them to him. He unravels the bandages and sighs an apology before applying pressure to your wound. You grit your teeth, suppressing a groan at the pain. 

Joel moves over to the man you had left alive and studies his injuries. “She really do all this by herself?” 

Tommy holds back a laugh as he tries to slow your bleeding. “What can I say? She learnt from the best.” He teases.

After managing to slow the bleeding, he begins to wrap your stomach in bandages, taking care to apply the bandage tightly. Tommy takes his time with careful hands to make sure it is done correctly and protects you from further damage. The entire process is done with care and concern, your well-being being the most important thing to him at the moment. 

You roll your head to the side and search for the rubber ball, spotting it in a pool of blood. You go to reach for it, but Tommy leans over and picks it up, shaking the blood from it and pockets it. 

Tommy swears as you cry out in pain as he slips a hand under your outstretched legs and behind your back. He grunts as he lifts you up into his arms, and you grip his jacket tightly. You press your head into his chest, trying to distract yourself from the pain that is starting to creep through your veins. The adrenaline that surges through your body in the heat of the fight begins to wane, and the full impact of the pain starts to set in. You try to remain calm and still, your breaths shallowing as you wait for the pain to pass.

Tommy turns and walks past Joel, pausing in the doorway as his brother speaks up. "We're not killing him?" Joel questions, his tone sceptical as he gestures to the man tied to the chair with his gun. He looks back at us, where you remain nestled in Tommy's arms. 

“Was gonna let him suffer,” you explain between breaths, and Tommy’s hands hold you tighter at your words. “But you can do whatever you want to him.” You mumble as you lean into Tommy’s embrace, the blood loss making you exhausted. 

Joel nods and points his shotgun at the tied man. 

You feel the warmth of Tommy's body and his heart beating against your cheek, giving you a sense of comfort. You raise your head to look at him as his voice shouts over his shoulder as he leaves the room to ascend the stairs from the basement, "And do it quick! We gotta get her back to the clinic."

Joel's voice drifts through the walls, uttering a few muffled words. But before you can decipher what he said, a gunshot stops the other man's pleas, and the walls around you shake. Time seems to stand still as you realise what has just happened. The man was dead, and that gunshot had meant one thing - Joel had done the deed. Finishing what you started. 

Chapter 2

Notes

Hey guys!! I've been writing and posting small concepts of this story and decided to start writing a more detailed story.

Thank you for all the love so far! This is my first longer fic that I've actually stuck with and I'm really glad you are all enjoying it as much as I enjoy writing it!

Divider by the beautiful saradika

Also a layout of the house mentioned in the first part!

[kamiko1234]

I am currently at the end of chapter 3 of The Titan's Curse and oh man, do I have some thoughts. So first things first. I do not like Artemis. Like, at all. She's currently inhabiting spot 2 on my "I hope Luke wins because of you guys" RIGHT after Ares himself. I REALLY don't like the whole "anti-boy" thing she and her Hunters have going on. Like, okay- I get it to some degree. Chasity and maidenhood is like- her whole thing. But honestly, at this point, it feels almost fanatic. I'm a girl myself, and it makes me genuinely uncomfortable how they act and what they say. It also weirds me out how.... pushy they are to Bianca ? Especially how they seem to disregard Nico in all of this. It was stated that Bianca and Nico are their only remaining relatives. Percy brings up a very valid point in the fact that Nico cannot become a Hunter. Bianca would leave her only brother behind, her brother whose only family she is. And in response Artemis and Zoe just- blow that whole concern off ???????? Saying that they would become Bianca's new family. It could have worked better had this decision only attempted Bianca- BUT IT DOESN'T. What about Nico ? Who would become Nico's new family !? Well APPARENTLY Artemis and her Hunters COULDN'T CARE LESS because he was born with the wrong gender. Sorry kiddo though luck ig 🤷‍♀️ And then that nasty comment when they talk about Nico going to camp with "that's all boys are good for" The fuck Artemis????? I know DAMN WELL ur ass didn't just insult the ONE relatively safe place for demigods where those kids are trained up to do the shit YOU AND YOUR FAMILY are too lazy to do !? Like I have my problems with Camp, not gonna lie. I still think it's still unsafe (even if it's better compared to- well, everywhere else) and their teaching methods are a bit questionable (how has no one thought of organizing some damn therapy for these kids !?) BUT ALSO !?!?!?!? Bianca who JUST said she was still thinking about joining the hunters only to then immediately make up her mind and join ? Naw I'm calling foul play. At this point I'm not putting ANYTHING past ANY god. I would fully trust Artemis to manipulate Bianca's mind or something. I swear to god with every chapter I read I become more and more of a Luke apologist. He went off the deep end for a good freaking reason and he has every right to personally decapitate every god to ever walk the earth. But also, ANNABETH BABY ARE YOU OKAY !? ARE YOU GOOD GIRL ??? WHERE'D YOU GO !? God I am PRAYING it ain't Tartarus or anything- atleast Artemis said she'd search for her so I suppose Mrs. "Human rights for men ? Who needs that !" isn't TOTALLY useless beyond ending my nerves. Poor Nico by the way, he seems like such a nice kid ! A total nerd and drok which honestly ? Stan. As someone who's a nerd myself (although I'm more in the Anime and history department (weird combo ik)) I can stan him. But also MY POOR BABY. That child basically lost his sister to something I'm not yet convinced isn't some weird cult RIGHT AFTER being attacked by a literal MONSTER.

That must hurt. As for Thalia.... yeah not sure about her. She seems to have some bad blood with the hunters of Artemis and that Zoë girl which makes her immediately more likable to me. But also I was sort of thrown into a loop with how suddenly the book started into the story, I would have liked a bit of a slower start with more build-up to get to know her better.

She seems to have a pretty confrontational personality , which is the main thing that makes me a bit unsure about her. But other than that she sems pretty cool so far ! Hope to see more. One thing however made me worry a bit.... that mist thing. Where Thalia was able to manipulate the mist, and upon Percy's questioning asking if "Chiron didn't show you that yet". How it's treated to be nothing special....... listen if I wasn't a bit iffy about the whole system of the Camp I am now. Why didn't Chiron show Percy that ? It doesn't look to be some special ability reserved for children of Zeus. Infact, why didn't Chiron show that EVERY demigod !? I am hoping to god that an explanation for that's gonna come up later to explain this. Otherwise I'll just have to assume that Chiron is refusing to teach those kids a valuable and also kinda important skill just because.

(Also on an off note, y'all remember that one "Who's Jason Theory" I had a while back where I concluded he's either from Roman North Korea or a Rome fanboy ? Yeah I got it confirmed from a friend a while back that he's from Roman North Korea. Holy fuck, so apperantly The Democratic Demigod's Republic of Rome exists canonically. And apparently they are the East Germany to Camp Halfblood's West Germany. Yikes. Don't know much more tho than it existing and apperantly being well, Roman North Korea. So please no spoilers there ^^)

(Please mark any spoilers in your replies/reblogs so I can avoid them, thank you )

[tumbleweedtech]

okay happy to give a prompt because I need alerudy like I need air they are so underwritten. I’m too Latino and too gay to not need them. Beware because it’s fluffy.

Dance lessons! I headcanon Alejandro as coming from a big family where Rudy might have only had one or no siblings, and you might think that means Ale had more opportunity to dance, that would be wrong. Alejandro got lost in the mix of family and by the time he’s like 15 he 1) can’t dance a basic cumbia because everyone figured he’d just pick it up and 2) is old enough that being bad at dancing is embarrassing rather than endearing. Rudy, by contrast, has been his single mom’s dance partner for years, right up until she got re-married (and he danced his ass off at the wedding too).

So Ale sucks it up and asks Rudy to teach him how to dance because it’s quinceañera season and he can’t go another year claiming he twisted his ankle. So the lessons begin. In secret, late at night on top of a roof near the bar district, where they can hear the music from below. Where no one can see two boys dancing. Rudy has him start by following, then by leading, and then they switch off. Dealer’s choice whether Rudy is dying inside because he’s wanted to dance with Ale for years, or if this is a Gay Awakening, but either way. They’re feeling Something.

I have no idea where this ends which is why I’m giving up custody to you!

how could you possibly know i am currently writing a cumbia fic with alerudy

how. *How*, Nonny? Alright. *cracks knuckles* Let's have at'er. (note: I'm going with Alejandro's mom is Rudy's madrino, and vice versa. Because idk about you, but my nina was treated like my second mother, no questions or argument allowed.) No CWs, just fluff of teenage boys with crushes dancing.

~~

"Alejandro."

"Rodolfo."  

Rudy rolls his eyes at the way Alejo parrots back, defensive. "Si se puede, Alejo."

Alejandro's refusing to look at him, frowning deeply, and it's heartbreaking how beautiful he is even now, gripping his own elbows, hair hanging in his eyes.

It was Alejo's tío who originally showed the boys this spot. The bright lights of the mercado cast its long flat roof into shadow; the strangely blinking red lights on its sign left it feeling private and alone. It hadn't been what Rudy had been looking for at the time. He'd heard there would be a meteor shower, and his mama was working that night. He knew Alejandro would go with him, he just had to find a place dark enough to see the stars.

They never did see the stars falling, but Alejandro held his hand as they watched the grey clouds cover a red-tinted sky and that was enough.

Tonight? The sky was clear and they could hear the distant but cheerful beat of the bar in the alley below. Rudy hoped it'd be loud enough to dance to.

Alejandro never liked failing, grouchy and embarrassed even as Rudy tried to model the steps.

"Alejandro, ven. Por favor. ¿Bailar conmigo?"

Rudy held a hand out, waiting. It was rare that Alejandro would deny him anything he wanted, a fact his mother had pointed out to him with a sly smile. He'd asked her once why she never went out dancing. She had cupped his cheeks and squeezed. "Mijo, there is nothing better than dancing with someone you love with your entire heart. Dancing in a club? You can go with your friends and have fun. Take Alejito, he needs the fun. But I am happy, here, dancing with you."

He was tall enough now that it was easier for him to lead when dancing with her, but she'd taught him both skills. “You never know who you will want to dance with”, she'd insisted.

He was pretty sure she knew who he wanted to dance with.

And that person didn't want to dance with him.

Rudy sighed. "If you want, Tía Lucía is probably still awake. I can—"

With an angry snarl, Alejandro stomped over, holding his arms out stiffly. He still refused to look directly at Rudy now that they were standing so close together under the aging neon sign. Rudy couldn't help but feel a whisper of hope that the tint of red across Alejandro's face was the blush his mama swore was there when he wasn't looking.

"I'm not asking Tía Lucía to teach me to dance for her own daughter's quinceañera. She'll know why I didn't dance at Letty's."

"Okay. You sure you're not going to punch me? It's easier to learn the steps at first if you follow."

Alejandro's shoulders dropped, the frustration leaching out of him with a heavy sigh. He looked around again, taking in the soft echo of the music from below, the flickering light, and gestured for Rudy to come closer. "Not going to punch you. Not your fault, I—"

Whatever he was going to say was startled out of him as Rudy took his hand to pull him close, the other hand on his waist. "Relax."

Rudy shifted him gently, and Alejandro panicked, tightly gripping his shoulder, glancing down at their feet.

"Don't look. Just trust me, okay? Count with me."

Rudy counted a quiet beat, letting Alejandro slowly relax into the rhythm. He was good at it, once he relaxed. Rudy encouraged him around, into a small circle, before the song changed again, a bouncy, cheerful song that Rudy recognized from his mother's small, crackly radio.

"You try leading now." Rudy shifted their joined hands, rubbing his sweaty palm on his thigh before reaching up to clasp Alejandro's shoulder. He desperately wanted to wrap both arms around his neck and press close, but he was fairly sure he couldn't get away with claiming it was part of teaching him to dance.

Alejandro approached it like he did everything else new to him. Brow furrowed, concentrating. Rudy doesn't know exactly when Alejandro managed to get taller than him, but it took his breath away to look up, the bright glow reflecting in Alejandro's dark eyes that met his, studying him so intently.

He tested, his fingers gently pressing, guiding Rudy. His confidence grew as the song went on, and Rudy surrendered to the warmth of Alejandro's arm around him, hand gentle on his back. "Not so hard, is it?"

Alejandro's wry smile as he ducked his head was answer enough. It wasn't a difficult dance, at least not the basics. Alejandro lifted a shoulder at Rudy's questioning eyebrow. The movement shifted Rudy’s hand, and it was excuse enough. He took the moment to curl his hand around Alejandro's neck, feeling the knobs of his spine and tangling his fingers in his long, dark curls.

"Plenty to learn still, besides just the basic steps. Unless this is enough for you?"

Alejandro's voice cracked slightly, eyes wide as he pulled Rudy closer, both of them moving slower as the song faded out. "Might need more practice. I've seen you dance with Nina Antonia, there's spinning involved."

"Then come over tomorrow, after school. You know my mom won't make fun, and we've got the music. She's making pozole anyway, you know you want to."

"Fine," Alejandro huffed, pretending it was a hardship like they weren't always at each other's homes for dinner anyway. Tomorrow was a rare day off for Rudy’s mom, but he knew she wouldn't mind. "One more song first?"

Rudy shifted close again as Alejandro's too-warm hand gripped his ribs and they moved with the rhythm of the drums. Rudy had always enjoyed dancing with his mama, but he thought that maybe she had a point. Dancing with her was very, very different than dancing with Alejandro, especially with the way his eyes glittered in the dark.

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.99 The llama

"What is it?" she asked.

I was so smiley and nervous. This was one of those things that could go left really quickly, and I didn't want that at all. But I felt like we couldn't ignore it anymore. No married couple knew every single thing about each other, and I looked forward to learning the good, bad, and ugly about Sophia as time went on. But this? Family dynamics were basics. Previously, I tried to blame it on the newness of our relationship, but she and I were not new to each other. She had plenty of opportunities to share this story with me while we got to know each other as friends. I shouldn't have been wondering if her parents were alive or dead still.

"I think, uhhh... I think it's time we talk about...your parents...if that's okay."

She sighed heavily, but not in an annoyed, exasperated way. It felt like she conceded reluctantly, torn between not wanting to but knowing she had to.

"Yeah...I guess I have kept you in the dark long enough."

I almost told her she didn't have to if she didn't want to, but I bit my tongue. We were married, and I didn't intend to end up like my parents. Sharing the hard things with each other was of utmost importance to me.

"I'm adopted...as you know."

She paused for a few moments, staring at the floor, searching for the right words. She found some, but her eyes remained on the floor.

"When you adopt a child, you don't get to choose who joins your family."

She let that line hang in the air for a moment and had me on the hook already.

"You simply state what age you prefer and wait for an agent to arrive with a child. My parents...I think they were just so enamored with the idea of finally having a child of their own, they failed to consider this."

My stomach felt queasy. I had no idea where the story was about to go, but it was definitely not heading in a positive direction.

"They didn't want you?" I asked nervously.

She hesitated.

"They would take offense to you saying that, but they often made me feel that way. I wasn't mistreated or anything. They made sure I had everything I needed and took care of me to the best of their ability. But they didn't love me."

I groaned in agony, thinking of what she must have gone through in her childhood. My parents may have put me through a lot, but never have I ever doubted their love for me. I believe their love sustained me. Who or where would I be without that?

"Sophia...I'm so sorry."

She shrugged and kept going.

"I used to be sorry, too. Throughout my childhood, I thought I was the problem and needed to be better. But as I got older, I realized there was nothing I could do. I was a pretty freakin' amazing daughter. They were the ones with the problem."

The cat was out of the bag, but I was still nervous.

"But...how did you know?" I asked. "I mean, what did they do?"

"To start, they never gave me their name. They claimed they wanted me to remain connected to my heritage or whatever, but that was cowplant poop."

Given that we just got married, that one cut deep. I think it would upset me greatly if Sophia didn't take my name. That tradition had seriously deep significance, and they didn't give it to their own child? I feared what else she would tell me.

"They always made a big deal about where I came from. We read books, watched documentaries, and whatever they could get their hands on so I understood what kind of blood flowed through my veins. In truth, it's really great they did that. So many adopted sims are clueless about their histories. But when I got older, I found it to be weird. Like, they put all this energy into teaching me about my biological history, yet I didn't have relationships with my own family. I can count on one hand how many times I've seen my aunts and uncles and cousins... I felt like they were trying to get me interested in my biological family so I could go find them and forget about theirs."

Both my parents were the only child, so I had no extended family to speak of. Still, I couldn't imagine my parents not interacting with them. I don't think we would be super close, but I'd have a relationship with them, at least.

"We never went on vacations and barely went to local places together. My parents were not wealthy, so it took them a while to save they money to adopt me. It was easy to think we didn't go anywhere because we couldn't afford it or because they were older. But one time, my mom took me to the park. I was sooooo excited to be outside among other kids. I found something and wanted to show it to her, so I picked it up and ran over yelling, 'Mommy! Look!' She was talking to some other parents. The look on her face when I finally reached her... I was almost a young adult when I realized what that was because I'd seen it many times by then. She was embarrassed. The other moms were looking at her for answers because they'd never met me before, and she clearly never told them she had adopted a brown child."

Maybe all the sims in my six degrees of influence were just cool because no one ever made a big deal about me having mixed heritage. I wasn't naïve enough to believe that kind of thing didn't happen, but how could sims be so ignorant? I had no trouble imagining Sophia being the perfect child, but that was not enough for them, and it angered me. How could they go through the heartbreak of realizing they couldn't birth their own children, struggle through saving the money to adopt, finally get a child, and not shout it from the rooftops? What kind of parent is ashamed of their own kid??

"Like I said," she continued, "they took good care of me, but they kept me at a distance. By my young adult birthday, I had a clear picture of the situation, so I left home and never went back. Their care was an obligation, not love. It took me a while to see, but I was empty and it affected me; I hated them for it. I wanted to be loved so bad and went from relationship to relationship trying to fill that void in my heart. My ex was cheating on me pretty much the entire time, and I knew about it. I was that desperate for the crumbs he left me. It took a while, but eventually realized what a gem I am and what a llama turd he was. I didn't have to settle for crumbs. And I didn't have to be anyone's obligation. My parents had died by then and left me some money, so I broke up with him and went on vacation for the first time in my life."

I smiled.

"Mt. Komorebi?"

"Mmm hmm. It always looked so pretty and peaceful in pictures, and I definitely needed some peace. I went to spend time with myself, heal, and reset my mind. Then I met you."

"Wow. I had no idea you had gone through so much then."

"I just wanted it all behind me. I'm sorry for not saying anything. I know it wasn't fair."

I loved her before and tried to show her as much as possible, but I was even more compelled to ensure she never questioned my love for her. She was no obligation to me. It was an honor to love her, especially knowing she chose me after deciding what she deserved and how she wanted to be treated. I vowed to cherish her with every pixel of my being for the rest of my life.

[gotafewtricks]

It is I, the silly animal anon. I come bearing more requests such as a centaur!reader with hanzo. I just thought it'd be goofy as hell. I IMAGINE THE VOICE LINE WHERE ORISA TALKS TO HANZO ABOUT HIM RIDING HER INTO BATTLE AND LIKE TRANSFERRING THAT TO READER? 😭😭

Have a nice day. I hope you're doing well in school!

★ "I- What a preposterous thought!"

Glad to see you swing by again :3 I like the animal theme going on; and I hope I did well, especially since I am not very knowledgeable in Greek mythos !! & I'm well, hope you are, too! I'm just stuffy rn due to allergies; and mhm! School's well !!

With how first impressions would go, he'd probably have to blink twice to fully believe what was in front of his eyes. Even if his family sought forth the dragon, and Hanzo's extensive knowledge of his culture's mythos, it'd feel natural for him to think of this as normal—whenever you'll have to call him out on his staring.

So many thoughts would race through the archer's mind right now. Who are you? What are you? Why are you mentioning how his jaw's dropped?

Hanzo would have to compose himself with a quick "ahem"; as he'd clear his throat before he could advance any further. His knowledge on centaurs felt elementary, as he thought about such a topic even more. The marksman would glance over your body, a particular thought humoured him as he'd break into a smirk; before coming to the realization you have your bow firmly in hand, as you'd trot toward him.

He never was one into equestrian sports, as most of his free time during his servitude towards his family included wielding the blade. Now, that is not relevant to him; considering his promise to never even dare touch such a weapon. His bow was his safest option to hone his skills, and to also keep up his job as a mercenary.

"I know what you're thinking," you'd say, breaking him out of his thoughts. "You wish to ride me into battle?"

Prepare for a flustered Hanzo, shaking his head out of pure humiliation that you'd want to point him out like that. Even with his experiences prior did not revolve around the idea of cavalry, he couldn't help but entertain those thoughts his mind was plagued with! Considering he trusted that, due to your heritage, you were also a skilled hunter with the bow, then-

"No, why would you think that? Do I come off as that shallow?" Hanzo would then interject, making up a lie to make himself look as if he wasn't the one red-handed here. "I'd have more respect for..."

With just one knowing grin from you, he'd have to scowl. You won.

You didn't want to just leave him hanging there, though. You did offer your assistance for his idea, of which he tried to make it sound as if you were "doing it out of pity"; but, in reality, you could tell that his eagerness through his body language told you otherwise.

I feel as if Hanzo would know proper etiquette with riding on horseback; I'd say that during his trips throughout Japan, and the world, too, he'd understand a few concepts. You'd really need to teach him and be patient.

He's never really gotten... this excited for a rather childish concept. Do be gentle, if you were to muse your comments with Hanzo and tease him, as it'd make his a bit discouraged on acting more upon these little scenarios. Let him have his fun! Though, please do humble him if he ever gets too high and mighty on his high-horse... aha.

He'd somehow revere your untamed nature, if you exhibited one; being free, and guided by your own motivations and wills. Hanzo would see himself in you, and in a way, there was a beauty of it.

Whenever the two of you got closer, Hanzo would love to do nothing other than run his hands through the course hide of yours; you and him would normally then meet up during the night, the stars blanketing the dark skies.

I'd feel like he'd have a basic understanding of astronomy and astrology respectively, though, once you start talking the alignment of stars and planets, you cannot help but laugh at his confused expression—explaining the different relationships between those bodies.

You'd laugh at how he'd get confused with the different constellations, mumbling to himself about how you got an image of an air pump out of spotted dots. You would then correct him that it was actually "Antila"; but he'd digress. Hanzo would have genuine interest if you were to act so enthusiastic about the study; matching the energy lovingly, being more comfortable with expressing his newfound interest.

Whilst the two of you would train, as much as he would prefer the comfort of solitude, Hanzo would love to gauge at your ability; your specialty as an archer.

He'd hint and hint at wanting to practice his abilities on horseback; making his request subtle; even if you did allow him to ride on you, or if you didn't care. Hanzo still was trying to make sure that you were comfortable, whilst also wanting to fulfill his own curiosities.

You'd make fun of him, calling him a cat with how he'd just tilt his head at you. If you didn't mind the staring, you'd further joke along with him; causing him to always shake his head in embarrassment. Every. Single. Time.

[dark-night-star-light]

This was supposed to be a Talina post, but it turned into a fucking Talon backstory post instead. Whoopsie. It's long. Be warned.

Talon is Stetriolan. Naturally, this meant she joined the Conqueror army. But it's so much more than that.

Drina met her when they were seven. She was sneaking off during a royal procession in her honor (she was crown princess, which she was eventually knocked down from after she got bonding sickness) and Talon was there. Drina was intrigued because she'd never seen much of kids her own age besides Shane.

They stole food together. Drina had money, but who cares about that.

Talon's father had a spirit animal and the bonding sickness, and keeled over from it when Talon was ten years old.

Drina snuck out of the palace a lot to meet Talon, whose family was significantly poorer, and eventually started inviting her over. They grew up together, basically. Talon's family benefited a lot from her connection the the royal family.

Then Drina summoned Iskos, and it all went downhill. Screaming, crying, you name it, but the entire relationship went sideways. But Talon couldn't let go of her attachment to Drina.

Talon tried to teach Drina how to use a crossbow, but Drina was hopeless. Talon stopped trying to teach her when Drina almost shot the iconic Stetriolan throne.

Talon always saw Shane as an annoying younger brother, and treated him as such. She also taught him how to use a saber, and is the reason he's so good at it today.

Drina eventually begged Talon to join the Conqueror army, and Talon did it for Drina.

Yeah, Drina and Talon were kissing behind the scenes during the entire war, actually. This is canon, actually.

Talon became a double agent during the war. She pretended to join the Greencloaks after summoning her bird, claiming she bonded to it naturally. They believed her, and always seemed skittish around her, because bonding naturally meant they, the Greencloaks, the supposed protectors of Erdas, hadn't been able to protect her. Talon hated them, but pretend it was all fine and dandy.

She became friends with Keith. Who's Keith? Some guy. Shit fighter, he was. He eventually caught her sending letters via her bird to Drina. Fortunately for Talon, the letters were written in code, and they appeared to the layman as disgustingly over-the-top love letters.

Thus, Keith learns that Talon has a girlfriend. He is the biggest Talon-girlfriend shipper ever. Talon refuses to tell him who the girlfriend actually is, but lies and says she's Euran. Keith learns to make a shepherd's pie to impress the girlfriend for "when I finally meet her". He never does.

Talon is a trans girlie, by the way. In case you care.

Talon learns Drina got killed through Shane himself. He took it upon himself to tell her. He tells her that the sacrifice was worth it, and to come home for the final victory. It's through writing, so Talon can't decipher his tone.

Out of grief and rage, Talon recklessly tries to escape Greenhaven. Of course, she runs into Keith on the way out. He asks her where she's going, and she tries to knock him out. He's a better fighter now so he blocks her. She runs into the woods, but unfortunately Greenhaven's an island. That's not good for her.

She waits in the woods until Keith leaves, and hopes he doesn't hate her. But she has a feeling he already knows.

She sneaks onto a boat and eventually ends up back at Stetriol. Shane's there. They talk about Drina. It doesn't really help.

She sees Drina's dead body and now her entire purpose feels destroyed. Drina was the reason she joined the Conquerors and now she won't even be there to celebrate the final victory.

She tries to kill herself, but Gerathon herself stops her using the Bile-control. She thinks it's ironic that Gerathon killed Drina against her will but is keeping her alive against her will.

She sees Keith at the battle at the base of Muttering Rock. She feels nothing. He feels nothing. They fight like two soldiers on opposite sides, not two friends. But she can't help but notice that he doesn't make any truly dangerous moves against her. And she can't help but notice the same about herself.

The Conquerors lose. Talon doesn't care anymore. Shane does his best to keep her alive because he knows Drina would want him to. They eventually part ways.

. . . Until Shane hires her to the Redcloaks. She'd been noticing how her features were slowly warping, but she didn't take much notice. She just felt numb. Just nothingness.

Shane brings her back. Tells her that there's a new threat, and that they finally have a chance to redeem themselves. And that the real Drina, the Drina that existed before the bonding sickness and the Bile warped her beyond repair, would want them to. He begs her to do it for Drina. And he tells her about his conversation with Yumaris. She is the only one to know besides Anya, Yumaris, and Shane himself.

Shane didn't send her after Grif and Anuqi. She sent herself. Shane pretends to be annoyed, but in reality, he's glad she has some drive and is acting like her old self again.

She disrespects Shane in front of the other Redcloaks. A lot. She'll never see him as a leader, just as the annoying preteen that asked her what that painting in the palace was supposed to mean and flicked food at her across the table as a kid.

When she saw Keith on the mission with Grif and Anuqi, she knew that she had to make things up to him, and him personally.

After the mess with the Wyrm, she makes a journey to Greenhaven with Stead. Keith isn't there. So she travels to Amaya, where he's from, to meet him herself.

He has incredibly mixed feelings upon seeing her again. But he knows who the Redcloaks are, really. And he's wondered whether she'd be with them since he found out about them.

He's shocked at her transformation. Naturally.

Eventually they make up. They spar. He's better than ever.

When the Oathbound are hunting Greencloaks, Talon hides Keith with the Redcloaks. They almost find him, too. The irony in Keith pretending to be a Redcloak is not lost on either of them.

Once things settle down, Talon helps Keith find the two missing bond tokens in the sea near the Zhongese palace. Keith returns one and Talon returns the other, which symbolizes for how the Greencloaks and Redcloaks are really and truly working for the same side now.

[xjulixred45x]

Ling Yao x Abused Reader

This is technically the last part of a series that my sister had asked me for at the beginning of my account but that I forgot over time and I apologize for that (I may write on my own about this fandoms in the future I have several ideas but now I'm going with this).

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female

Warnings: Mentions of child marriage, implications of physical and mental abuse, bad parents, egregious and alarming age difference, Hurt-Comfort, Fluff, Happy Ending.

To be fair, these two already knew each other in Xing.

(reader) is the only daughter of the war secretary of one of the many clans that were under the emperor's orders, the Han Clan.

But despite this, her father was not very interested in teaching her his work or making her stand out in general, he wanted her to become a "proper society lady" so he forbade her to come into contact with activities that could distract her from that task.

Her mother teach her, giving exhaustive lessons in etiquette, posture, manners, preparing tea and giving it a try (even if you didn't like it, since according to her "that would please your future husband"), teaching cooking, throwing dishes bad things in the trash or your head, etc.

Your parents prohibited or banned any type of material or activity that incited rebellion or that seemed "inappropriate for a girl." Learn to fight? "Boys don't like girls to have muscles" Politics? "Keep quiet you look prettier" Any type of physical activity that was not related to what is traditionally feminine? "It's not attractive to be running around like a beast."

And sometimes it was just too boring.

So you went out to see REALLY interesting things, like fights!

That's how you initially met Ling.

You both knew each other superficially through your parents, but when you started showing up to watch the Yao Clan's training, he became curious.

From time to time Ling would go straight to talk to you, thinking that maybe you wanted to join the fighting practices, but you couldn't really risk getting caught, so you would just talk or watch the other clan members train.

You went to Ling when you needed a break from the "lady" life your parents imposed on you. It was very liberating.

Ling, even at a young age, understood that kind of pressure quite well, not only having to fit into the mold but also having to constantly compete with his brothers and sisters.

Thanks to this they made friends quite quickly. You run away a lot more often just to be able to play with him. He was the only boy your age you REALLY got along with after all.

Your parents, even if they were against it, couldn't do much once you stepped on Yao land or found out WHO you were playing with, so it was AMAZING for you to finally be a girl.

Ling was more about acting before thinking, while trying to keep a cooler head, which made for a fun dynamic to watch.

At some point you even gave in and Ling taught you some basic fighting moves! Nothing great but at least it was a lot more fun than your dance classes.

Ling would even secretly pass you books about politics or books that your parents had forbidden you to read (things that you shared very lightly) and you would finish them in DAYS (but not without first giving Ling a kiss on the cheek as compensation, for his delight).

I think it's a little obvious that Ling may or may not have had a case of a childhood/youth crush on (reader) while they were growing up, but after a certain...situation, he didn't have the chance to really realize it.

Because one day (reader) simply disappeared.

She stopped going to training, she didn't go to the places where one normally found her to play, she stopped showing up.

What Ling didn't know was that (Reader)'s family had come up with an idea to end this rebellious phase and benefit once and for all now that she was finally of age.

Arrange a marriage, with the son of the emperor of the Han Clan...he was an adult and you were just a teenager.

Ling only found out out of mere courtesy of the clan.

And for a couple of months it was a pain trying to contact you. Not because he didn't want to! But because your family (and new "husband") made it very difficult.

The clans themselves had a complicated relationship with each other, after the emperor get sick it was even worse. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't risk generating even more conflict.

Although he had a chance to see her before he had to travel to Amestris, at a "family meeting" where the Han clan was.

Where would it be (reader)

....part of him is grateful he went and part of him wishes he hadn't.

Because when Ling came and looked for (reader) and found her, it was like seeing a ghost.

(reader) had become somewhat taller in recent months, she was well dressed and with several capes of makeup on her face, with a vacant and empty look, quite distant from the happy and unrestrained version.

She also didn't talk much before Ling arrived. Or even when he arrived, but at least her expression changed, that made Ling feel a little better.

Luckily her husband was busy enough getting into discussions about the country's military with his other brothers that he didn't notice Ling quite close to his "wife."

Despite everything, Ling was happy to see her being just as friendly, but quite tired, they took the opportunity to catch up.

(Reader)'s husband...could be worse. According to her. It wasn't easy, it's complicated, he got angry very easily and his friends are... shameless. but (reader) had been able to survive the situation well thanks to certain charms.

Even if (reader) is trying VERY hard to maintain control, Ling can see the anguish in all of this. They comfort each other in the situation.

The time before Ling goes to seek immortality, he spends it making small secret visits to the Han house or rather, visiting (Reader).

Try to make them have good memories before you don't see each other for a while :')

Imagine Ling drops the "I used to have a GIANT crush on you when we were kids" bomb☠️

During much of her trip in Amestris Ling thinks about (reader), sometimes she even buys things that she thinks she might like there (accessories, a book, things like that).

I can even see Greed making fun of him for that when it takes over his body☠️

When he eventually returns to Xing, he is mentally preparing to see (female reader). By coming up with a plan, you may not be able to help (reader) directly, but you can definitely do it externally.

(Reader) is DEFINITELY very surprised when Ling arrives not only completely changed, without Wu, and with his sister from the Chang Clan, but also comes with IMMORTALITY ITSELF...he achieved it..

All the commotion of Ling's arrival and her triumph over her other brothers means that (reader)'s husband does not notice when she sneaks away, wanting to have a talk with Ling.

They don't manage to say much to each other, precisely because of the rush and urgency of discussing Ling's appointment, but at least she manages to give him a big welcoming hug, telling him that she misses him and that she's glad he's okay.

Ling freezes for a solid second before returning the hug tightly and pulling away. Temporarily.

(female reader) is also present when he is declared the new emperor some time later.

Knowing Ling, he, May and Lan Fan will probably look for incriminating evidence of adultery on the part of (reader)'s husband so she can divorce him without problems. They leave the evidence "anonymously" but (reader) can recognize Ling/Lan Fan's writing patterns very well.

Ling and (Reader) keep seeing each other at family events, which is hilariously awkward for almost everyone but them, since no one can REALLY say anything to Ling now that he's the emperor, not even (Reader)'s husband, who He only stands on the sidelines while his wife and half-brother catch up on the adventure he had in Amestris.

When (Reader) decides to divorce of her own free will, guess who makes it official? ;)

If we look at their current relationship, it's better than either of them would expect!

Ling was pretty depressed after Amestris, Wu and Greed, but at least (Reader) never fails to make him smile or laugh, which helps his mental health a lot.

You can even bring out your old habits, like embarrassing/angrying (reader) a little and see her expressions, it doesn't matter if she gets her butt kicked. It was worth it!

(reader) must be the most sheltered woman in all of Xing, and no wonder, although at least she always has someone to talk to ☠️

When (reader) goes outside with Ling they have to have limited physical contact for etiquette issues, but Ling always holds her hand or hooks her arm around hers to keep her close :3

Both at some point can talk more openly about their traumas and cope with them with each other's help lots of cuddles during bedtime on those types of days.

At this point they would be very lucky if (Reader)'s parents are even still in Xing after what they did to their daughter and Ling becoming emperor 😅

This man is cuddly as fuck! Sure, you have to reserve the PDA in front of the other clans for appearance and etiquette issues, but once you're alone or with privacy? Nothing stops him. Especially with hugs.

I think Ling would be very interested in his partner learning basic defense, especially with Lan Fan being highly trustworthy. Even if (reader) is contrastingly protected, she knows that she is never too much.

In short, very sweet love that rots your teeth❤️

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[bellatrixnightshade]

Family Means Fate

Hi! This story was based on this post of mine here. There is more info about it under the tag "fanfic: family means fate." Basically, this is a form of modern Au uses Rafal the Antarctic scientist I recall discussing with @liketwoswansinbalance, Rafal the girl dad, and some unused ideas from ATOTE and other stuff. I plan to make this fanfic shorter than some others in length. I will post this to Wattpad and a03 at another time.

Chapter One

Genevieve woke up to some muffled argument. She could discern that one of the speakers was her father. The other– she frowned. The other sounded a lot like her stepmother’s, who had just returned from a trip last night.

Gen was almost tempted to think it was a positively ruined weekend.

She rubbed her eyes and sat up in her bed. Arguments always put her in a bad mood, especially if they were in the morning. They reminded her of something else. Hopefully, though, if things were going sour between her father and Sophie (that evil woman!), things would become normal again. Saya, her damned twin, always mocked the idea or shrugged it off, but Gen had faith. And she rarely felt good about anything.

Minutes later, her father opened the door. The girls hardly locked their doors as a rule. Otherwise, he would grow suspicious and try to see what they were up to. Saya constantly broke the rule, and he would make her suffer for it. Genevieve always followed it. She didn’t have anything to hide. Not from him, at least.

Fluffles, her sister’s cat, entered the room at the same time. Gen pursed her lips in annoyance.

“Where’s Saya?”

“I think she went golfing with Myra this morning. It was a nice day, and James said he’d pick her up. I told him she should be back by one o’clock, otherwise I won’t be a very happy father. Rhian apparently will be joining us for dinner tonight.”

Ah yes. The iconic Uncle Rhian.

“Anyways, I came here to let you know to expect Sophie to come here soon. She wants to curl your hair. She didn’t like the way I was styling it. I personally thought it was neat and presentable enough, but she had different ideas. Said my wife didn’t teach me anything, though I hardly doubt I need to be taught. Especially not by– well, never mind. That surely opens up old wounds.”

Gen bristled at Sophie’s insult towards her mother but she didn’t say anything. “I guess that means I have to dress up then.”

“Yeah, you should.”

Gen got up, stepped over the cat, and approached her closet. She slid one door to the side, revealing her wardrobe. One thing that caught her eyes was a certain dress. A First Communion one.

She fingered her puffy white dress from ages ago. Well, actually, it wasn't pure white anymore. Time started to yellow it.

The only reason why she and her sister even had a First Communion was mostly due to their uncle, who was supposedly a devout Catholic. Saya complained that Uncle Rhian really had a mental illness (some form of OCD she claimed, but she was no psychologist so Gen discarded her opinion) and that, if people looked closely, he wasn't as practicing as he seemed. He was one person in church and another out of it.

It was the one of two times she received Communion, because all the other few times she went to Mass, her father stayed in the pews and she herself hadn't confessed her sins. She learned from Sunday school that a soul in some sort of sin (she would have to ask her sister which type it was, because there were two) couldn't go. The second time was her confirmation. Genevieve barely understood the point of a confirmation. Nothing in her life changed: no speaking in tongues, no fire falling from the sky, no healing power or prophecy, which were supposedly signs of the Holy Spirit. Rafal only mentioned some details here and there about his own confirmation ages ago, with Rhian, and provided some pictures. Gen was confused on what his chosen saint was: she thought it was Thomas the Apostle, the skeptic (very much like her sister, to be honest– always doubting), but Saya said it was Thomas Aquinas.

Her father wasn't religious but he wasn't exactly a disbeliever either. He did have his daughters baptized in the church with saint names, Rhian, of course, being a godfather to Gen. His practice was lousy and lukewarm at best, with some Miraculous Medals and scapulars being worn and the occasional rosary or novena. He didn't receive anything because he was a remarried divorced man. Rhian made such a big deal about it every Christmas and Easter before Mass, but Rafal had no intention of “fixing” his life. Well, so it seemed. Her mother was an ex Catholic who turned atheist. She did get married inside a Catholic Church only because of family. And thus, she nor Saya were very religious themselves.

Rafal had brought her out of her thoughts.

"You still have that old thing? Sophie will tell you to throw it out.”

“It’s for memories’ sake,” Gen said quickly. “And I won’t like her snooping through all my things, either. She’s just here to torture my hair.” At this moment, Fluffles brushed against Gen’s legs and ran off as perfume wafted inside the room. Perfume she found repugnant.

“Good morning, Sophie,” Gen tried to say as sweetly as possible. Her father rarely became angry with her, but Gen’s rejection of Sophie had been a source of his anger in the past. She hadn’t seen him cross with her since the time she and Saya used his debit card without his knowledge (he was livid that day) or when he had caught them on their mother’s tablet late at night on the way to get Nyquil for his cold. Oh, and when Saya had to go to the ER after an April Fool’s prank, courtesy of Gen, or when she pushed her twin down the stairs and gave her a nosebleed during a fight.

“Rafal wouldn’t let me color your hair,” Sophie complained, glaring at him. “I don’t see why. I think you’d look lovely with some red! The iron’s already heated up, and I don’t like to be kept waiting. The good thing is, I can rest assured you do have your beauty sleep unlike your sister, poor thing.”

“I think I will have to take her switch away,” Rafal said. “This is why I never was on board with video games being allowed in this household in the first place, but of course, we all know how my brother is.”

“It’s a miracle Saya even gets good grades,” Genevieve commented. “With that attitude she always has.”

“She does come off as ungrateful at times,” Rafal replied. “And I noticed– not that it really matters, anyway– that she’d rather go to anyone but me. You, Sophie, Rhian, Myra. Literally everyone but her very own father.”

Gen couldn't understand why she could never be happy with the way things were. What did Saya want? Their father did everything to stay as long as possible with them, but she was furious when he quit his job that took him all the way to Antarctica for months. Their mother was busy but soon, she would be with the family again and there would be no need of resignation or whatever. And maybe, Saya had to accept she was less. She had Gen's same GPA to be sure and got amazing grades, but everyone knew Gen was smarter, and what was wrong with that?

“I’m waiting,” Sophie hissed. “Do you want that thing to die out in a few hours? That is an expensive one!”

“Right. Genevieve, don’t keep her waiting.”

Genevieve nodded and begrudgingly followed along.

⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛⁛

Rhian had stopped by for dinner as expected, with something to complain about.

Genevieve opened the door for him, and he entered the house immediately demanding to see his brother. Rafal and Saya were arguing in another room, and Genevieve interrupted them. Saya looked relieved but Rafal wasn’t about to let the matter drop just yet.

“Why did you use all my rewards?” Rhian started out sweetly, not about to let his brother avoid him.

Rafal turned away from Saya. “What do you mean?”

“My Panera rewards. I went there today after picking up a frappuccino. I had some discounts I wanted to use. When I was about to pay, the cashier found nothing. Said it was already used.”

“Oh. That.”

“By drive thru pickup.”

“I called for the manager and he gave me a discount, to my surprise, but I never want to see you using my account again, Rafal.”

“I needed something to pick up that day,” Rafal answered calmly. “It was stressful. Stupid, uncooperative students, papers to correct…”

Rhian frowned, but smiled again. “Never mind about that. How are the girls?”

“Genevieve is doing well. Her teachers like her and ask her to help the other students with their classes. Saya has nothing much going on.”

Gen was beamng at this point. Her sister looked deflated.

“Do you have a problem with me speaking favorably of your sister?” their father sharply demanded.

“No.”

“Then why do you look as if you lost your cat?”

“I’m tired, but all you seem to want to do is argue about accounts and brag about how special and amazing Genevieve is. She doesn’t even remember your birthday, Dad. It was yesterday and she almost went through the whole day saying nothing to you or Rhian. She always forgets. Even Sophie gave you something after she came home with you from the airport yesterday.”

“Many people don’t remember.”

“She could have put it on her calendar. She has a damn phone, doesn’t she? But go on, defend her bullshit like you always do.”

Rhian fidgeted uneasily. “Do we have to eat here? I was thinking… Midas showed me a restaurant the other day. Buffet style. Lovely. A bit pricey.”

Rafal sighed. “Why are you talking with Midas? I thought he hated you.”

Rhian smiled. “No, he doesn’t. We’ve just had misunderstandings.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Genevieve was startled, because Saya always responded to things exactly like that. It made her ingratitude even more unacceptable.

Poor, jealous sister. Hating on the only people who had ever loved her while trying to get attention from the woman who was trying to destroy their home and to stop Mom from coming back to them. Hell, she didn’t even believe Mom was ever coming back.

But Gen knew the truth. It just needed time.

[docholligay]

You are 10000% correct! Winston basically develops and fleshes out the battery system from the CA, capable of being small, portable, and insanely powerful, licenses it for laptops and other shit, and retires on that money, once Lena stops any fieldwork. She was the only reason he wore a uniform anyway. Then he takes care of her when she can't really take care of herself. He never minds. Emily couldn't do it on her own, and there's no way he would ever even allow the idea of her going into a care home.

But then, she dies. And what does he do now? Everything feels wrong.

Avi is basically his saving grace in everything. He throws himself into her entire life, because she is the second person ever who was not even once afraid of him or intimidated by him. From the first time he held her and she reached up to his face, he was utterly in love.

And Fareeha and Angela take the attitude that there could be nothing in the world wrong with Avi having another person to love her and another place to go. So he takes her to museums and shows and playgrounds and anywhere she wants. Without even realizing it, he ends up getting out of the house, too, and it's good for him. They have sleepovers and she never misses out on any school trip or summer camp, because he won't let it happen, however much Fareeha might think it's occasionally good for a child to hear that something is impossible. When Emily finally moves on and out, Winston remakes her room--Lena's room--into a room for Avi. Newly painted, rearranged, she's too young to understand the significance of what he's done, but it's not lost on anyone else.

They play games together, and read books, and he teaches her anything she wants to know about science or history or art. He becomes a nanny, and then a companion, but always an uncle, and always Avi's favorite. Her Uncle Winston is big and kind and warm, and she is always so excited to introduce people to him. When she gets older, she admires his brilliance, his loyalty, his tender nature.

With her around, he is happy. He takes great pride in her, and she loves him.

But still, he never really stops missing Lena. Every Christmas, especially, he misses her. Avi is used to hearing stories about Lena from a wide variety of people, but almost always they're smiling when they tell them, or shaking their heads, laughing. But Winston wavers between seeming so sad to talk about her, and being desperately terrified that everyone will forget her. As she gets older, Avi makes sure to listen carefully, and to even write some of his stories down, to reassure him that no one will. (This seems mildly ridiculous to her given her near-canonization among a certain breed of Londoner, and the fact that she features prominently whenever a "blitz spirit" needs to be invoked by a score of politicians Lena herself would hate, to say nothing of, oh, the Overwatch museum itself, but what is love if not embracing the anxieties of the beloved, smothering them as best you can in the embrace?)

To the end of his life, Winston always wishes she was there. He mourns her to the day he dies. Avital never feels less loved for this, because she is in many ways her mum's child, practical and straightforward, but she has a touch of her mutti's softness, and so for every time she might think it insulting or ridiculous, there is the sense that poor Uncle Winston went so long without a family that when he found her he grew around it like a tree around a signpost. If the signpost rots away, the hole will remain. It doesn't make the treehouse he built in his own branches for her any less.

She defers going to university to take care of him, and still somehow manages to be surprised that absolutely everything is left to her. The cemetery attempts to stop Winston from being laid there with Lena, despite that always being the intention--rules, you know--but while Avital has a touch of her mutti's softness, mostly there is a spine of Egyptian steel and the ability to bureaucrat someone into the ground.

Uncle Winston loved Avital. He did everything for her. He asked only one thing of her, and that was to be buried with the person he spent twenty years mourning, and despite her mum's best efforts, Avital never did get good at hearing something was impossible

[thebisexualdogdad]

Kira Yukimura x Scott McCall x Allison Argent x Isaac Lahey poly headcanons

Tagging @inhumanshadows who I came up with this idea with

● so basically Scott and Allison were dating

● and then they met Isaac and were like wait we both have a crush on him??

● so Isaac joined the relationship

● then Kira came to Beacon Hills and they were like wait we have a crush on her too??

● so Kira also joined the relationship

● telling all the parents was a trip

● Melissa didn't care she was more concerned about where to put Isaac since he was living with them and obviously couldn't sleep in Scott's bedroom anymore

● Chris was like "really?? You couldn't just date one werewolf but two?? And a kitsune??"

● Ken pretended to understand but then Noshiko had to explain to him what polyamory was, "so all four of them are in a relationship?? Like together?? How did Kira go from being single to having three partners??"

● Allison being the supportive girlfriend cheering in the stands while all three of her partners are on the field during lacrosse games

● every game she rotates wearing a different one of their jerseys

● when all of them go out to dinner it's a whole ordeal

● Allison thought Scott and Isaac ate more food than any one person should be able to but then Kira came along and she can out eat both of them

● they went to an all you can eat buffet once and by the time Allison finished her first plate Scott and Isaac were each on plate three and Kira was on plate five

● and when they order in pizza they have to order at least 6 pizzas and every box is empty by the end

● Chris "really guys? You use my credit card and you couldn't at least save me a slice?"

● they go on runs together through the woods

● Scott and Isaac love scaring Allison and Kira by disappearing then sneaking up and picking them up from behind

● as much as the four of them love spending time together they also make sure to have plenty of one on one time with each other too

● Kira has a master schedule that keeps track of when who is going to have solo dates with who

● Scott and Isaac staying up all night playing video games

● "you both look exhausted what were you doing last night?"

● Scott and Isaac looking at each other like they totally didn't just complete a game in 18 hours that is supposed to take people days "...nothing"

● Allison teaching Kira how to use a crossbow and Kira teaching Allison how to use her katana

● Scott and Isaac are both the "well mark me down as scared and horny" meme the first time they see their girlfriends using each other's weapons in a fight

● Allison and Isaac have a lot of study dates because Isaac doesn't do any of his homework otherwise

● Scott and Kira spend a lot of time lacrosse training

● the look on Coach's face when he found out their relationship situation was priceless

● "huh, so that's what polyamory is? I think I did that once in the 90's"

● Scott and Allison have more of the adventurous dates going to new places and trying new foods

● while Isaac and Kira have more casual dates like bowling or going for ice cream

● movie nights with them all cuddled up together on the couch

● Melissa comes home from her night shift at the hospital to find all of them fast asleep and the movie credits rolling

● unless they put on a horror movie because once again Scott and Isaac think it's hilarious to scare Allison and Kira who then don't sleep at all that night

● Scott, Allison and Kira all stealing Isaac's sweaters which are way too big for them

● one day he shows up to school and sees Scott, "Hey is that my sweater?" Looks at Allison, "that's mine too," looks at Kira, "and that one! No wonder I couldn't find anything to wear this morning."

● Allison being fascinated by both her and Kira's family histories

● they do so much research together

● if any of them ever get hurt the other three completely dote on them until they get better

● Scott "you guys I'm okay, super healing remember?"

● Isaac "just relax here I made soup"

● Scott "you have never cooked in your life"

● Isaac "fine Kira made soup"

● Allison "now that's more beliveable"

● they are the talk of the school when they first get together

● but after the shock factor wears off no one even gives them a second look when they are all walking to their respective classes hand in hand

● or when they are huddled close together on a bench during lunch break being all cute and coupley

● even if someone does say something they don't care

● they are happy in and in love and that's all that matters