#hes never been in love. hes also been VERY traumatized and not coped much or healed

[mejomonster]

On that Zhao yunlan and Luo wenzhou comparison point... Zhao yunlan might be more like fei du. At least as far as the whole:

Rich family (but Zhao yunlans is admittedly more mildly rich and influential like Luo wenzhou's, not like CEO rich)

Easily read as demiromantic (I mean fei du has 1 maybe 2 crushes ever and it takes years <3 I feel you babe. Zhao yunlan meanwhile has the issue of trying to find love, oh I feel u babe, but people never love him back or he can't click with them and it is sure Partly he's a workaholic who does secret ghost hunting work so like he has a big secret chunk of his life he hides which hurts attempting to connect. But also the whole process of going out, being a flirt and trying to optimistically date people, only to end up sad love didn't work out. I guess one could say he likes people physically attractively fast cause hey he sees Shen Wei and is like I GOTTA lock that down, murderer or not. But I'd counter maybe he's allosexual, and/or you know that whole lovers in past lives thing is working under the surface lol with a Lot of years of soul loving shen wei helping the odds.

Flirts and goes with acts of service and cute words (all 3 Zhao yunlan, fei du, and Luo wenzhou go this route actually) but their lovers are stronger and Also do this type of flirting and if both of a pair are trying to manhandle, their lovers win.

[throneofsapphics]

Imagine being rhysands partner for centuries and having to wait for him in court while he’s under the mountain? Just to find out that the very day he is set free, he also mated with Feyre, the human girl that saved everyone? Perhaps he doesn’t tell her right away but over hears it after some time? Or Confronts him of how he treats her so differently from her? Asking why and confront how he acts now and he just blows up and says it? You choose!

like the stories

Rhys x Reader

Summary: Reuniting with Rhys isn't what you'd hoped for.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, angst

A/N: Thank you for the request!!

part two

Every day you waited. Not with the perfect, flawless, selfless i’ll-wait-a-thousand-years energy. Yes, you would wait a thousand years or longer, but certainly not patiently and there was a fair amount of cursing, screaming, and occasional binge drinking involved to cope. 

Regardless, all you could do was wait, all you could do was your best to ignore the piece of you missing, the pain of that absence never abated, if anything it grew stronger over time. Until you had to rely on portraits to remember the exact detail of his face, until you couldn’t remember if he was citrus and sea or citrus and storms. 

The stories, at least the ones you’ve read, only talk about the happy reunions. They never touch on the pain and misery of the separation. 

Night after night you dreamed of a reunion. A few times you’d woken with tears in your eyes, the reunion dreams feeling more like a nightmare. 

“I don’t want you anymore,” his voice was flat and so unlike him your chest ached. 

“What did she do to you?” you whispered. That had to be the reason, she must’ve gotten into his head. The male you knew and fell in love with wouldn’t …

“She,” he spat, voice rising, “didn’t do anything.” 

‘You, you, you.’ Rhys wasn’t in your mind, but the word echoed in his voice.

-

Mor, your closest friend and confidant, had to threaten to physically restrain you, to keep you from making your way right to the mountain, right to him.

“He’ll be back soon,” she said, voice hoarse. Half a promise, half a plea to the mother. 

“He … he told you?” Your voice was low, quiet, disbelieving. 

“He didn’t tell you?” 

The world tightened around you, the air feeling dense, suffocating, too much. You saw Mor’s lips moving but couldn’t hear anything. 

Like a bad omen, you felt his presence again, for the first time in nearly fifty years. 

Mor’s eyes glazed, she glanced at you, lips moving in some kind of promise you didn’t hear before she winnowed away. 

48 hours and he hadn’t graced you with his presence. Some kind of protagonist you were, you glanced at the bookshelf full of romance books, not very gracious and kind and understanding. The books had it wrong, you’d decided. 

You knew his experience had been traumatic, and yours had been minimal in comparison, but you’d still suffered, hadn’t you? Still waited anxiously every night, not entirely sure he would return. Stuck in Velaris. 

It took 72 hours. 

Rhys stood across the room, watching you with something like longing and grief. 

Barely fighting the urge to sprint and close the gap, you stopped a few feet away from him. His shoulders were tight, entire body taut, looking as if his muscles might snap at any second. 

You held your arms open, letting him come to you. It seemed like the right thing to do. 

One. Two. Three … Fifteen seconds before he closed the gap. 

A three second hug. 

You swallowed your disappointment. There’s no saying what he’d been through, and you’d only heard rumors. Perhaps it was wrong of you to assume he’d want any kind of physical touch. 

“I missed you,” 

“I missed you too,” the reply was too quick and missing the usual ‘love,’ or ‘darling’ on the end. 

You could tell when you weren’t wanted somewhere, and took the hint. “I’m sure you have plenty to do,” you murmured. 

He nodded. 

Gods this was miserable. 

You managed to excuse yourself with minimal extra embarrassment, and saved the tears for when you’d left the vicinity completely. 

-

“A mate,” you whispered. Screaming didn’t feel right, it didn’t encompass the pure betrayal running through you. “When were you going to tell me?” Instead you had to overhear Mor and Cassian speaking of it. You kept going when he didn’t reply to you. “I thought you had more respect for me than that, I thought I meant more than that to you.” 

“How could you compare to a mate?” 

The words were stagnated, awkward, didn’t quite fit as a response to your statements and you knew he was just voicing his thoughts. 

You understood what the stories meant now, when they said your heart dropped to your stomach. 

Mouth opening, you didn’t need to be a daemati to read the words about to leave his lips, the backtracking. 

One hand held up, his mouth snapped shut. Another time, another situation, you might have laughed at how easily you exercised that small bit of control over him. 

The corner of your mouth tilted in a not quite cruel but not quite kind expression. 

“Thank you for telling me how you feel,” you said flatly, adding “Rhysand,” emphasizing the last letter. 

Irritation and hurt flashed across his beautiful features. Wanting the last word, you chose to stride through the doors, but paused to make sure they shut gently. He’d always hated slammed doors, and you couldn’t bring yourself to go that far. 

Like the novels, where the protagonist gets her temporary revenge. Temporary. The pain will come later, but for now … you glanced at the nearest clock. Just before ten, Rita’s would be open for hours yet and you were a single female now. 

Unlike the novels, he never came after you. 

[brucewaynehater101]

The Tim and Dick bonding ask made me think about the angst of eidetic memory but specially for Dick.

He tries really hard to make really good memories with Tim, knowing they'll be well kept. Something he fails to consider is the fact that all of their fights (which is a normal part of being siblings, especially under the stress of being also vigilantes) are also perfectly recorded in Tim's memory. I think Dick's hot temper gets the better of him sometimes but he doesn't mean it, so to him it doesn't register as something particularly memorable ("Yeah I had an argument with Tim but that happens sometimes").

It's not until Tim makes a remark about something Dick said in one of their arguments (maybe even the one about Robin) that Dick suddenly has that realization: Tim remembers EVERYTHING. And it's so nonchalant, like Tim isn't bothered by it (there were times when he was more insecure about his place in the family, but now he understands that fights are normal and Dick isn't really mad at him). But Dick is having an absolute crisis about it.

Not only does his little brother remember every single shit he didn't mean to say but blurted out in anger, he's also coming to terms with the fact that he must remember every traumatic shit his witnessed in HD. Obviously there's the very graphic death of Dick's parents to start with, but also the corpse of Tim's father, just to begin with.

Cue to Dick having a breakdown trying really hard to remember all of the extremely graphic and brutal shit he deletes from his brain on a daily basis to cope with their way of life while Tim's just beating the shit out of him at Mario Kart.

Dick: Bruce. Bruce, were you aware of Tim's photographic memory??

Bruce: ....yes? It's a valuable skill for-

Dick: Bruce. B. Dad. Have you consider the horrors we see on an average night?

Bruce:...

Bruce, sweating: hmm.

One, I love the notion that the Bats are extremely intelligent detectives, but they also overlook a lot on accident (like Tim's memory being as much a curse as it is a blessing [they maybe somewhat realized this, but not to this extent]).

The idea that Tim has an instant replay of every harsh word, disgusting comment, and traumatic event he's been through? Yeah. No wonder Dick is freaking the fuck out.

Anyways, it'd be interesting to see how the Bats treat Tim's memory. If he remembers everything in HD, he might be the most trustworthy source if there are no cameras (to an extent. His memory is a biased account and will be affected by his emotions. It's also dependent on what he notices, catalogs, and focuses on). Therefore, gaslighting Tim by saying stuff like, "I never said that!" doesn't really work.

I want to know more about the ins and outs of how Tim's memory operates

[egcdeath]

the l word

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: the five times you realized that you loved joel, and the first time one of you says it. 

word count: 9.1k

warnings: canon divergent, no apocalypse, 5+1 fic, hurt/comfort, a certain someone gets punched, brief mention of postpartum depression & abandonment, really brief mention of physical abuse in 3, fluff, domestic fluff, angst with a happy ending, found family

author’s note: happy very early valentine’s day! this is part three of the soccer parents au, you can read spectator sport (p1) and clean sheet (p2) here!

this fic would not be possible if it were not for the help of @freakinfairykind, who sent me the idea for scene 3 and listened to my thought vomit whenever i hit a roadblock! you can thank them for the brilliance that is what occurs in that scene :)! enjoy!

part four / series masterlist

Zero

After Nathan, you were sure that you would never fall in love again. Love was supposed to be beautiful and soft—a random bouquet of flowers, having a whole conversation with just your eyes, sweet messages sent to you when you expected it least and needed it most, and foot massages after a long day. For you, love had been nothing of the sort—settling for mediocrity, spitting out venomous words during arguments, and biting back tears on forgotten anniversaries. 

Love wasn’t kind or patient, or rainbows and flowers. Love was a storm cloud that followed you around when you were around him, pouring sadness and anger on you and striking you with lightning bolts of resentment. 

Maybe some people just simply weren’t meant for love. Maybe you were one of them.

One

After years of trying to hold together a failing marriage and hide the myriad of painful feelings you were going through for the sake of your daughter, bottling up your feelings had become your preferred coping mechanism to everyday stressors. 

For the most part, it worked for you. Sure, some days were harder than others, and the smallest confrontation or blip in the day would send you spiraling; but more often than not, you were able to compartmentalize whatever was bothering you and save it for a rainy day.

That was part of what worked so well about the relationship you had with Joel during the soccer season—you had the opportunity to unscrew the lid of the shaken bottle of your feelings just a little bit, taking some of the edge off by yelling about completely inconsequential things. But now, you don't have that outlet. And today was one of those days that you desperately needed it. 

Nathan had come by to pick up Chloe just a bit ago, and it was very obvious that she hadn’t exactly wanted to spend her weekend with him. Some of her friends were going to the mall and having a sleepover, and because Nathan wasn’t particularly fond of their parents, he’d very openly told her no. She begged and pleaded to stay with you (mainly so she could go hang out with her friends), which of course broke your heart a little bit, but also led to a pretty dramatic outburst from your daughter to Nathan when he’d picked her up.

“You’re raising a spoiled little brat,” he hissed at you, pointing an accusatory finger once Chloe was in the car. 

“At least I’m raising her. You only show up when it’s convenient for you,” you shot back. If Nathan wanted to stoop low, you could fall to his level. “Put your finger down. She’s watching us.”

“A little argument won’t hurt her,” he scoffed. “See? You’re proving my point: you spoil her too much.”

“Because years of watching her parents bicker wasn’t traumatic enough? Get in the fucking car, Nathan.”

He huffed, looking back at the car, then over at you. “Fine. But before I go, I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking poorly about me in front of her. Clearly she’s listening to you and acting out because of it.”

“Have you considered that you’re just a shit father and maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you?” you were already making your way back inside, feeling the avalanche of emotions beginning to stir inside of you, and a little frightened of what might come out next. 

“You’re still such a bitch. Every day I praise every deity that’s out there that I left your sorry ass.”

You were viciously fighting the urge to get the last word in, knowing that whatever would come out next wouldn’t be good, and you certainly didn’t want Chloe seeing you like that. You left him with a sarcastic thumbs up, then slammed your front door, taking deep breaths to attempt to calm yourself down.

You crumbled down in front of the door, still maintaining slow and deep breaths. It was no big deal. Nathan just says stuff like that to stir the pot. You just needed to find something to take your mind off of everything. Your mind went to the scarf you’d been working on crocheting, something you could mindlessly do for a little while while you cooled off. 

The scarf was going well. You were calmly crocheting the evening away when you checked your phone to find a few apologetic messages from your coworkers. Feeling confused, you went on to check your email, only to find that the promotion you’d spent the last few months of your life slaving away for had been given to someone else—someone who had worked half as hard as you, and even took credit for a few of your projects. 

Your hands shook as you set down your phone and attempted to pick back up the crochet hook. You were fine, right? Sometimes these things just happen. Sometimes you sacrifice hours of your free time, hours of time you’ll never get back with your child, or significant other, hours you’ll never get back of sleep, hours of-

You cut your mind off, tossing aside the scarf and taking a deep breath. You were gonna be okay. This just meant you could take your foot off the gas going forward, since your work, effort, and time clearly was not being valued. Maybe you would just sit at your desk and play games, then slap your name on projects and presentations like Naomi. Maybe you’d just-

Your phone began to vibrate on your bed and your immediate reaction was to silence it, but upon checking the contact name, you became slightly more inclined to answer. 

“Hey! I almost thought you weren’t gonna pick up,” the man on the other end chuckled. 

“Is everything okay?” you asked, although you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle anything else today. With how your day was going, Joel was probably calling you to break up.

“Better than okay. We finished up early, and Sarah’s already at her friend’s. You in the mood for some company?”

No, not particularly. In fact, if Joel came over, you’d probably end up going off on him over something you don’t really mean, successfully putting an end to the best thing you’ve had in a while. 

“Uh,” your voice cracked, and a rogue tear slipped down your face. You didn’t even know that you were on the brink of tears. “I’m sorry,” you uttered, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. 

“Sorry for what? You don’t have to feel bad for not wanting me over,” he said genuinely, not picking up on your emotional state over the phone. 

“No, I do want you over,” you whimpered. “I just… I don’t want to lose you, too.”

“What? I promise you I’m not going anywhere. Well, I’m going home now, but I can also come to your place if you want me to.”

“Please,” you grit out. 

“You okay?” he asked, finally catching on to the fact that something was very off with you. 

“I don’t know,” you confessed. 

“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“No.”

“You sure you want me to come over?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled, desperately trying to fend off your tears.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“Bye,” you hung up, burrowing yourself under layers of blankets and curling up onto your side. Maybe this tidal wave of emotions would pass by the time Joel got to your place. You closed your eyes as you took deep, shaky breaths, wiping away stray tears every now and then as they fell. You could pull yourself together. 

You kept telling yourself this as you dragged yourself out of bed to answer the door, but the moment you saw Joel with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers, you completely lost it. He immediately tossed the items down and pulled you into a tight embrace, not exactly knowing what was wrong, but instinctually wanting to comfort you regardless. 

You didn’t even really know what it was either. Sure, you were pissed that you’d lost the promotion, and even more upset that Nathan had called your daughter a name while insulting your parenting skills, but it was far more than that. It was every little thing from the past two months that had upset you in some capacity that you had decided to push as far down as possible. 

You sobbed until your throat was raw and your eyes grew sore from crying so much. The whole time Joel wordlessly held you, rubbing soothing circles into your back and swaying you back and forth just the slightest bit. You almost felt like your tears would never stop, and the more you willed yourself to pull it together, the harder it was to do so. 

Finally, you pulled away, head hanging with humiliation by the emotions abruptly pouring out of you. You truly felt like a live wire. You should’ve just told Joel not to come over. 

“Want me to run you a bath?” he asked softly, tilting your chin up so he could look at you, and rubbing a thumb over your cheek. “Or is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“A bath is good,” you said quietly, averting your gaze. You almost felt like a toddler in the midst of a tantrum. The shame of being a grown woman who couldn’t even control her emotions was overwhelming, but Joel didn’t seem to mind much at all. He simply led you up to your bathroom and quietly filled the tub for you, checking it every now and then to make sure it wasn’t too hot. Once the tub was filled up, he helped you undress, then held your hand as you stepped into the tub. 

“Would you like me to stay?” Joel asked as you settled into the tub. 

“Not really,” you admitted. 

“Okay. Just yell for me if you need anything. I’ll be downstairs.”

Somehow, the bath was everything you needed. It was just warm enough to relax your rather tense muscles, and just quiet enough to allow you to actually process your thoughts. You sat and soaked in the bath for a while, just inhaling the scent of lavender, and trying your best to let go of the feelings that you’d been holding onto for so long. 

Eventually, you felt ready to talk about things, and called out Joel’s name, who after a moment, showed up in your bathroom and sat down on a towel next to the tub. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, reaching for your pruny hand. 

“Better,” you answered as you laced your fingers with his.  

“Well, I’m here when you feel ready to talk about it. And if you don’t feel ready to talk about it, that’s okay too.” 

“Okay,” you said quietly. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, the apology being more of a force of habit. 

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Joel  assured, “we all feel our feelings sometimes,” he pushed away a bit of hair that had fallen into your face. 

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this, I guess,” you continued. It had been a while since you’d shown any negative emotions in front of anyone, let alone a significant other. In fact, the last time you’d been sad in front of a significant other, you’d been laughed at and mocked. You’d been conditioned to see your own vulnerability as weakness, as a character flaw you needed to apologize for.

“Like what? Naked?” he teased, trying to at least make you smile when you’d clearly been feeling so down. “You know I don’t mind that at all. Seriously, though. There’s nothing wrong with being upset, and there’s nothing wrong with being upset in front of the people you care about.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. It had been so long since anyone had made you feel like you weren’t a burden for having a rough day. Joel gently brushed away your tears with his thumb, and kissed your forehead. 

“Thank you,” you muttered, feeling all sorts of feelings, particularly one feeling you couldn’t quite describe that had been lying dormant for years of your life. 

You eventually got out of the tub once the water had become too cold and you had become

somewhat of a human prune, and you found yourself curled up in bed with Joel, wearing a flannel that he’d left behind the last time he was over. 

“Feeling any better?” he asked once again, gently rubbing your back as a trashy reality TV show played quietly in the background. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled as you looked up at the ceiling, “it’s been a rough few months.” 

“Months?” Joel asked, scooting closer to you. “What’s been happening?”

“Too much to get into,” you sighed. “I guess it just all came out now.”

Joel turned down the volume of the TV, and turned his body so that he could face you properly. “If you want to talk, we have the time. I may or may not have drank a coffee on my way over here, so I’ll be completely alert for the next few hours.”

He gently grabbed your hand and squeezed it, a little reminder that he was here for you. 

“Today’s just been… bad. When Nathan picked Chloe up, she was upset so he called her a spoiled brat and said that it was my fault that she was one. Obviously I do a lot for her, and I know that I’m a good mom, but sometimes the way he talks about her scares me a little. I don’t want her to have self-esteem issues because her dad likes to name-call. I mean, she’s probably gonna have enough issues from our shitty relationship and messy divorce. That really upset me, but that definitely wasn’t the last straw or anything.”

Joel silently sat and listened, holding your hand and listening attentively.

“I lost the promotion, Joel. You know, the one I’ve been working absurd hours for? But it’s not just that, it’s just… there are months of emotions I haven’t had a chance to process. I guess it just all came out now after that.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said softly. “Nathan is an asshole. He shouldn’t be saying that kind of thing about his child just to make you feel bad. And your boss is stupid for not giving you that position when you’ve clearly earned it. Everything you’ve felt today is valid, but so is everything else that you’ve been holding in for the past… however long. It’s okay to feel your feelings in the moment instead of waiting for them to boil over.”

“I guess, it’s just… I don’t know. I’ve had to be strong for so long. I don’t know if I know how to not wait for my emotions to boil over.”

“Well, you don’t have to be so strong anymore. You’re not alone,” he assured you. “If you ever need me to watch Chloe because you need to go out to the middle of nowhere and scream, or just need someone to talk your feelings out with, I am more than happy to do so. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, setting your head on Joel’s chest. 

You were getting that weird, dormant feeling in you once again. There was an odd warmth in your chest and butterflies in your stomach, that felt strange and familiar, but most of all, exciting. You had no idea what was going on, or what that feeling was, but you did know that you didn’t want it to stop anytime soon.

And honestly, it didn’t seem like it would. 

Two

Walking into Joel’s home to the sound of soft guitar chords made you feel a bit like you had woken up in a dream, or died and gone to heaven. It wasn’t often that you’d heard him play guitar. Sing? Sure! He loved to sing along to a song he liked on the radio, or do karaoke with you and the kids. But playing guitar was something that he seemed to like to keep to himself.

Joel had picked Chloe up from school, as you had an important work event that you’d anticipated going quite late, and as you’d predicted, it was nearly midnight by the time you got to Joel’s place. It was rare for you to see those two alone, without yours or Sarah’s presence, but you’d assumed the latter had gone to bed due to how late it was and the fact that they had school in the morning.

So hearing Joel play for your daughter felt… weird. But a good weird. Like he trusted her enough to be doing something that he often kept under wraps, even for you.

“I love this song!” you heard your daughter exclaim from the living room. You rounded a corner, not quite ready to appear yet, but curious enough to eavesdrop on the scene.

Joel chuckled at her reaction, “should we sing it together?”

“Maybe, I’m not very good, though.”

“I doubt that,” Joel said, continuing to play the introduction to the song on a loop. 

“I… fine, I’ll sing.”

The two of them began to sing along to the song, and you could’ve sworn that your heart did an actual flip as you listened. There was something very sweet about the whole scene, of Joel playing a song your daughter loved, of him assuring her that she was good enough, and singing something together. 

You should’ve felt bad for listening in on the scene, for invading on a moment that was clearly meant to be private, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to feel that way when your heart was so filled with… something that you couldn’t quite place.

The song came to a soft conclusion, and you figured there was no better time to finally step out from behind the wall than then. 

“You guys sounded so good!” you stated as you entered the room.

“Oh hi,” Joel greeted a little awkwardly, looking down at his guitar as if he’d been caught red handed. 

“Mom!” Chloe exclaimed, coming over to you and hugging you. “I missed you.”

“We were just killing time while we waited for you to get home. How was work?”

“Eh,” you shrugged, sitting down across from Joel as Chloe curled up next to you. “It was work.”

“Mom, did you know that Joel sings and plays guitar? He’s really good!”

“Really? I didn’t know that,” you acted surprised for your child, but looked mischievously at your partner. It wasn’t often that you had the chance to get Joel to play you something, and you refused to let the opportunity slip away from you. “Can you play me something?”

“He can!” Chloe accepted the offer before Joel could begin to protest. God, was this child your mini-you. “Go ahead, Joel.”

He looked to you as if he needed some sort of excuse to not do it, or encouragement to play (more likely than not, he was looking for an out), but you simply shrugged, far too enthused at the idea of him playing guitar for you. 

Just as the man sighed and began to put his fingers to the string, Sarah came down the stairs and plopped herself right next to you. 

“You guys are loud,” she stated, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. 

“Sorry for waking you up,” you apologized. “You were just about to miss your dad’s concert!”

“Oh good,” Sarah giggled, getting all comfortable next to you as she pulled a blanket over her lap. 

“I feel like this is a premeditated attack,” Joel held onto his guitar. 

“It’s definitely not. We just want you to share your gift with the world!”

“Alright, fine. Only because I like you guys so much.”

The three of you cheered from the couch as Joel began to play again, the soft acoustic notes of a love song you’d heard a few times before. As Joel played and sang, he looked straight at you, and you couldn’t help but feel like the lyrics were coming straight from his heart to you. 

That warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that you’d become more and more familiar with over the course of your relationship began to reappear as you sat there, the moment a snapshot of the perfect domestic bliss that had become your home life. As you sat with your two favorite children in the world, and your favorite man, you realized that you’d never felt more content in your life. 

Three

When you agreed to come to a bar with Joel, you hadn’t expected it to be a quaint little hole-in-the-wall with great live music. 

The atmosphere was lively, the drinks were dangerously sweet, and best of all, it was cute watching Joel in his element. Part of you wondered if he ever saw himself up on the stage, playing for a little audience. Although, he was so bashful and shy playing in front of you and the girls that you wondered if he would like it at all. 

You finished off your first drink rather quickly, but you were feeling up for another, and prepared to head back to the bar. “Do you want another drink?” you asked Joel over the loud music. 

“I’m alright. Thank you, though,” he kissed your cheek, then looked back up at the stage, directing all of his focus there once more. 

You made your way back to the bar, where you ordered another fruity drink for yourself and patiently waited for it to be made, humming along to the cover being sung on stage. 

Being able to find out more about what Joel liked to spend his time doing was (unsurprisingly) quite nice. While he was vulnerable with his emotions, he was often a little more closed off when it came to sharing his hobbies and interests. You wondered how many of these live shows and open mics he was familiar with, how many local artists he was friends with. Would he ever feel comfortable enough around you to share those things with you? Well, you certainly hoped so. 

You looked around with a small smile on your face at the thought of learning more about your partner’s interests. Had he ever been the one up on stage? Maybe before Sarah was born and he was launched straight into the time consuming world of fatherhood. Although, he surely would’ve shared that with you by now.

You were drawn out of thought when eyes landed on a head of hair that looked a little too familiar for your liking.  

No.

There was no way.

This bar was definitely not his scene. In fact, if you’d suggested this bar, he would’ve laughed in your face and called you a hipster, before dragging you out to some stuffy restaurant where he’d complain about the portion size of both his meal and the bill. 

Your mind was just playing a mean trick on you. You’d had a somewhat stressful week, and sometimes drinking made you the slightest bit paranoid. Besides, it was just someone’s hair. Literally anyone could have that hair color, or hair cut, and although the world was small, it wasn’t that small. 

Just as you began to fall headfirst into your nerves, the bartender handed you your drink, and you walked back to Joel, head still in the clouds. 

You couldn’t shake that off feeling, even as Joel danced around with you and stole a sip of your drink, both actions bringing a smile to your face, but not quite quelling the growing discomfort in your stomach. 

You just needed to go clear your mind and freshen up. At least, that’s what you told yourself before telling Joel to keep your drink safe and power walking to the bathroom.

You stood at the sink, splashing your face with water as cold as the faucets would go. Nathan was not here. You needed to just relax, and enjoy the fun date that Joel had planned. You couldn’t keep letting this man ruin your experiences, even when he wasn’t present.

“You okay, hun?” a voice asked you while your head was bowed over the sink. When you looked up, your eyes nearly popped out of your head, as if you were some ridiculous cartoon character. 

Well. Your brain must’ve really been fucking with you today. Or the Universe just really hated you. 

Claire, Nathan’s new girlfriend, was asking you if you were alright in the bathroom of a bar that your new boyfriend had suggested. 

You were completely unsure of whether she knew who you were or not, although she seemed tipsy enough not to care. 

“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled awkwardly at her. “But, uh, my mascara’s a little smudged. Any chance you have a makeup wipe?”

“Yeah!” she said, digging into her purse to check for the item. 

You’d never met Claire before, but as far as first impressions went, this one wasn’t too bad. She offered you the wipe, then stood next to you as you dabbed at your under eye. 

“You meet anyone fun tonight?” she asked, beginning to touch up her own makeup. 

“No, I’m actually here with my partner. He really likes the music,” you said casually, dabbing at the same spot so you could at least attempt to maintain your composure in an otherwise dramatically ironic and tense situation. 

“Oh no. Was he the one making you cry?”

“Cry? No! I was sweating. We were dancing,” suddenly, a slightly perverse question crossed your mind. “Does your partner make you cry a lot?”

“How do you even know I have one?” she giggled, sounding less accusatory and more confused. 

“I don’t I just-“

“No, not really,” she shrugged as she reapplied her lip liner. “He mostly just buys me shit and spoils me. What would I have to cry about? He’s a really good guy.”

Oh, you remembered that phase. Well, phases. The time after he’d slapped you during an argument immediately came to mind. Nathan could probably teach a seminar on love bombing, then making you feel guilty for having any negative feelings because of all the money he’d spent on you. 

“That’s good,” you nodded, tossing the used wipe in the trash and making your way to the door. “Thanks for checking in on me and helping me. Have a good night.”

“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” she asked as your hand hit the door.

“No,” you replied promptly, maybe slamming the door behind you a little too hard. 

This was a lot to process, and a lot to take in. Despite having a fun time with Joel, you really just wanted to go home. Finding your way back out to him, you silently accepted back your drink and stood besides him stiffly. 

“You okay?” he asked, gently grabbing your arm. 

“Fine, just… just.. I have an upset stomach,” you explained. You were never a good liar, the concern in Joel’s eyes told you that you hadn’t suddenly become one. 

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he said, rubbing your forearm gently. “Let’s go home, okay?”

You certainly didn’t protest as he began to lead you out of the bar, and you let out a sigh of relief at being able to leave before running into anyone else you knew.

Although, life was never that simple, was it?

As you approached the door, a familiar voice called out your name, sending a chill up your spine. Joel’s head whipped around from where it was coming from, and scowled when he saw who the voice belonged to. Ignoring him, the two of you continued your departure, a newfound urgency in both of your steps.

Once you were outside, you felt yourself puff out a sigh of relief. You’d managed to get out of the bar with only a brief conversation with Claire, and no direct interaction with Nathan. Now, if you could only get home, curl up with Joel on the couch, and tell him the absurd story of how you’d bumped into your ex’s new girlfriend in the bathroom. 

But the universe clearly wasn’t letting you off the hook just yet.

“Hey!” Nathan called as he stepped out of the bar, Claire trailing just a few paces behind him. “You’re such a fuckin’ bitch. Can’t even say hi to the father of your child.”

You were almost alarmed by the speed in which Joel marched over to your ex and reprimanded him. Not even wasting a moment, Joel shoved him back—a warning of sorts, with your knowledge that he was certainly holding himself back. 

“Leave her the fuck alone,” he barked. It was like no tone you’d ever heard him use before, not when he was upset with anyone, and not even when he was yelling at a referee for a bad call.  

“And who the fuck are you?” your ex shot back. 

“Does it really matter?” Joel pressed, not backing down despite the slightly shorter man getting in his face. “You’re not gonna go around trying to degrade women.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna stop me, Mr. Nice guy?” Nathan pushed Joel, but your partner barely budged. 

“You fuckin’ cuck,” Nathan muttered. “Why do you even care about this whore?”

Nathan took a second to think about it, glancing between the two of you before a light seemed to go off in his little brain. 

“Oh, I know. You’re that guy from the soccer games. You two together now?" His condescension was almost jarring to hear, and part of you worried about what your clearly inebriated ex might say or do next. “I see you’re still the community cumrag,” he directed at you. 

You hardly had a moment to process what was just said before Joel was swinging, clearly seeing red as he threw a hefty right hook at your ex, leaving a nasty crunching sound as he fell to the ground. 

“Don’t talk about her, or any other fucking woman like that ever again,” he squatted down to his level, and grabbed both of his cheeks. “Leave her the fuck alone, you understand me? Or next time you’re gonna wish it was just your nose.”

Nathan cradled his bloody nose and whimpered and Joel walked back to you, the fury on his face melting into something apologetic as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he began, cautiously approaching you as if he was something to be afraid of. “I shouldn’t have done that. I overstepped-“

“Joel. Don’t apologize. Do you know how much that asshole deserved it? You did everyone a favor tonight, but especially me.” 

You had never had someone defend you so literally before. Sure, your friends had argued with Nathan a few times on your behalf, but punching Nathan in the face had truly raised your expectations for anyone who claimed to be doing anything to help you. You don’t think you’d have felt this alive or cherished in years. 

“Now let’s get you home and ice those knuckles.”

Four

You were usually a big fan of rainy days. The sound of rain pattering against the window or on the roof of your car, and the smell of petrichor on the pavement were sensations you wished you could experience all the time. But today, you weren’t quite so pleased to see the rain. 

You’d taken the day off to spend it with Joel, who had specifically asked for you to take some time off to be with him. You couldn’t blame him, as you’d been slightly neglecting him after things picked up once again at work. You’d had a whole outdoorsy day planned, with a morning hike, a visit to a conservatory, and a picnic at one of your favorite local parks. Unfortunately, none of those activities could be done comfortably in the pouring rain. 

Instead, you opted to come back to your place after you dropped your kids off at school, and have a domestic little day-in.

After putting some homemade cinnamon rolls into the oven, the two of you found yourselves on your couch, comfortably sitting together and reading your own books while the smell of warm cinnamon filled your house. 

Occasionally, you glanced out your window, the scene of rain granting you a sense of serenity. At one point, you noticed Joel’s gaze out the window as well, and you couldn’t help but comment on it. 

“Don’t you just love the rain?” you asked, setting your book down on your coffee table. It was more of an excuse to break the silence than an actual comment, but you said it regardless.

“It’s nice,” he agreed, his tone oddly somber for a comment on the rain. 

“You okay, big guy?” you asked before moving closer to Joel. 

“I’m alright,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. There wasn’t any real concrete evidence that something was off, but something inside you told you that something definitely was off. 

“You sure?” you asked, squeezing his bicep. 

“Yeah, it’s just,” he paused, looking down at his book as if he was about to go right back to reading instead of telling you the issue. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke once more, “it’s the anniversary of Diane leaving.”

Oh. So that’s why he’d asked to be with you today.

You’d never heard Joel say her name before. Sure, you’d seen her name written under a polaroid or two, but you’d never heard Joel reference her ever. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t really know what their deal was. Amicable exes? Divorcees? Was Joel a widower? You felt awful that you’d gone this far into a relationship and still didn’t know anything about his last significant one. 

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, not completely sure how to react. You mainly wanted to get a gauge on Joel’s reaction–just how upset was he? Did he want to talk about it? Or just get the importance of the day out in the open?

“It’s just… Today feels like that day in a lot of ways.”

You nodded slowly, still not exactly sure of how to approach the situation. You thought back to all of the times he’d been there to support you when you were having a rough day, and ended up asking aloud, “is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” 

“Maybe just listening, if that’s okay. It helps to talk about it,” he paused. “The rolls smell done. I’ll go get them,” with that, he was off to the kitchen, barely giving you time to react, or even protest his departure.

He clearly wanted to talk, but just wasn’t completely ready to do so at that moment. You could listen. You could be the best damn listener on the planet if that was what Joel needed from you. No matter what he revealed to you today, you were determined to make Joel feel comfortable, and know that whatever he was going through, he wasn’t alone—just as he’d shown you in the past.

By the time he came back to the living room, Joel offered you a plate with an iced cinnamon roll and acted like everything was normal. He sat back down next to you, stole a bite from your plate, then buried his nose right back into his novel.

You respected his right to process his emotions in any way he saw fit. All you could do was be a good partner, and offer whatever he needed from you to feel better, like he’d done for you so many times before. 

While you were fine with spending your day cuddled up on the sofa and reading, you were also aware that there were a good amount of house chores that were calling your name. Upon mentioning these tasks, Joel insisted on helping out, which was how you two landed in the laundry room, laughing at something stupid that had happened to you this week. 

While you loaded light clothes into your washer, Joel suddenly caught you off guard with a question that was a far cry from the banter you’d just been having only moments before. 

“Is it… are you okay with me talking about it?”

By it you could only assume he meant the giant elephant of a woman in the room. 

“Of course,” you turned to him, offering sympathetic eyes. 

“She left just a few months after Sarah was born,” Joel busied himself by pouring out laundry detergent and fabric softeners. “I just woke up one morning to an empty bed and a note in the kitchen saying she was leaving, she wasn’t coming back, and not to look for her.”

You were taken aback by the cruelty of such an abrupt ending, especially with such a young infant. You couldn’t imagine being put in those circumstances so unexpectedly. 

Joel casually poured the respective liquids into their proper places in the machine, then turned it on. “It was a day just like this. The nursery had a nice, big window that we put a rocking chair in front of. Sarah liked looking at the stars when she was younger, it always helped to calm her down. I remember holding her in that chair and bawling my eyes out while she cried too, and with all the rain against the window… it felt like the Earth was crying right along with us.”

You weren’t sure what to say or how to react, but it seemed like Joel was prepared to move right on, quickly changing the subject as he led you out of the laundry room. 

Baking cinnamon rolls had left a lot of dishes in the sink, but luckily for you, you had an extra set of hands to help you out. Joel was on rinsing duty, and you were on loading.

You quickly found your rhythm, as you often did with partnered tasks. You worked quietly while loading the dishes, letting the music from your speaker fill up the silence, but it was obvious Joel was lost in thought.

Eventually, he quietly began to speak again, “I kept trying to make sense of her leaving. I knew that postpartum depression hit her really hard, and that she was barely sleeping at night because of how often Sarah was crying. Sarah was a really sensitive, fussy baby. She’d told me how she’d felt a few times, and I always kinda thought things would just pass. Every new parent hits that roadbump where they just can’t see themselves doing this thing forever, right? Then, she just left. I thought maybe she just needed a few days away, and that she’d be back. But days went by, then weeks, then it had been a month, and it was still just Sarah and I.”

“Did she ever come back around?” you asked, setting down the last dish into the sink, then closing the machine.

“Never heard from her again.”

You closed the distance between you and the man, wrapping him in as tight of a hug that you could manage. 

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered into his shirt as he melted into your embrace. “I can’t even imagine how painful and stressful that was.”

As a mother, you couldn’t imagine abandoning your child; the tiny human being you spent nine months carrying, and would spend a lifetime loving. But as a human, you understood the stress of being the parent of a newborn. Waking up every few hours because your baby is crying and you’ve tried everything to get her to stop but she just… won’t. Paired with postpartum depression, which you were no stranger to, you could understand the circumstances that led Diane to feeling like she had no other option but to leave. But that didn’t, in any way, make it the right thing to do. 

As you held Joel, a sound you hadn’t ever heard from him escaped his lips, wracking his body. A guttural cry that had clearly been trapped deep inside of him for the longest time had suddenly escaped as he recalled an event that had clearly changed his life. 

You stood in the kitchen holding him for what felt like forever, when he finally pulled away, wiping his face a little bit. 

“Thank you,” was all that he managed to get out.

You laid next to him in bed after a rather emotionally loaded session of lovemaking, trying to catch your breath as the two of you recovered from the underlying emotional and physical aftermath of your fornication. As Joel spooned you, a question lingered on your mind. 

“Do you still love her?” you asked, keeping your eyes forward on the wall. You wanted to say you were sure he had moved on, but these types of situations were rather nuanced. There were just some bonds that regardless of time or circumstances, people continued to hold on to. 

“No,” he answered clearly. “I don’t hate her, either. I guess I just understand her. But that doesn’t make what she put me or Sarah through any better.” 

You slipped your hand down to where his were currently laying on your stomach, and you set one on top of his. 

“I’m not jealous, I’m just curious. Do you ever miss her?” 

“I used to,” he sighed, the close breath blowing some hairs on your neck. “I don’t anymore.”

Eventually, your laundry was dry, meaning you two needed to get out of bed and get to folding. 

“She has a new family, now,” he said out of the blue, as he folded up a pair of your pajama pants. “Husband, kids, dog, the full nine yards. Tommy found her Facebook a few years ago, but I still haven’t looked. I don’t really know why.”

You didn’t really know why either, but you knew exactly the feeling he was experiencing. Seeing your ex who you’d invested so much into and had a child with move on with someone was a particularly gut wrenching feeling. You could only imagine how much worse it was in Joel’s scenario, where Diane had abandoned him and their child, yet had a child and built another family elsewhere. 

“Does Sarah know?” you asked, putting a blouse onto a hanger. 

“Bits and pieces. She kinda just accepted that her mom’s not in the picture, but doesn’t know why she left or anything about her mom’s new family,” Joel finished up with his basket, then began to help you with yours. “Maybe when she’s older. Old enough to understand that it isn’t her fault and that these things just… happen sometimes.”

“I guess,” you frowned as you grabbed your last article of clothing and hung it up. “It shouldn’t have happened, though. Neither of you deserved to be abandoned.”

“It was gonna happen one way or another,” Joel shrugged, putting your baskets away. “Our relationship had been on the rocks even before Diane became pregnant. If it wasn’t then, it would be later. I’m just glad it happened early enough that Sarah doesn’t remember. You in the mood for a coffee?”

His words gave you a bit of whiplash, but you accepted the offer of a warm drink regardless. 

You sat at your table, stirring your drink as Joel sat down across from you. 

“Good, right?” he asked. “I think I’ve officially nailed the way you like your coffee.”

“It’s pretty good,” you admitted, taking a sip from a mug that Chloe had decorated in her school’s art class. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Good. It is one,” you hummed. 

It was clear that his mood was slightly improving the more that he talked about his experience. You wondered just how much of this information he’d shared with anyone else before you, as he told the story as if he were confessing something for the first time ever. 

“I’ve never told anyone this much about it,” he confessed. “I’m glad that of all the people I could’ve told, it ended up being you.”

“Joel, I,” the words popped into your head, but died on your tongue. “I care about you so much. I know this can’t be easy to talk about, so thank you for sharing this with me,” you squeezed his hands across the table. 

“Thank you for being so supportive. I also care about you a lot. So much that it scares me. Especially knowing that you could lose everything in a literal night,” he admitted. 

“Oh Joel,” you said softly. “I’m also scared. I’m always so scared that I’ll lose you and Sarah and this little blended family we’ve made. But if that’s the price I pay for… caring about you so much, I’m okay with being afraid.”

Joel looked at you like he had something to say, but instead sat there quietly for a moment, processing your words. “Do you want to watch an episode of The Bachelorette?” 

“Is that even a question? C’mon,” you stood up.

The two of you cuddled up on the couch once again, this time with a much lighter feeling in the room, partially due to what Joel had confessed to you, and partially due to the absolutely ridiculous content playing on your television.

“I’m sad that I had to go through what I had to go through, but I’m glad that it led me to you,” Joel said out of the blue, resting his forehead against yours.

You were glad that he found you too.

Five

It wasn’t every day that the forces of the universe seemed to be on your side, but for some reason, today was one of those days. 

When you’d been called into your boss’ office that morning, a pit formed in your stomach. You’d figured that the day you were going to be laid off was coming, especially following the whole promotion fiasco. As you walked into her office, you fully intended to be walking out without a job. 

Except, that wasn’t what happened. You had been promoted, and promoted into a position even higher than the one you’d previously been gunning after. 

Once you found out, you had to fight the urge to skip out of your boss’s office, singing and dancing with joy. Instead, you fought that urge by closing the door to your office, and calling Joel. 

“Hey honey, what’s up?” he answered casually. 

“Joel, they promoted me! And it’s an even better position than what I was trying to get before!” you squealed. 

Joel cheered from over the phone, making you somehow smile even harder. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you. I can’t think of anyone who deserves this more than you.”

“Oh my god, stop it,” you giggled, putting your hands up to your warm cheeks. 

“No, I’m serious,” Joel countered. “I know a lot of hard workers, and none of them work as hard as you. You’ve sacrificed so much to get here and it’s finally paid off.”

“Thank you, Joel,” you had more to say, but you decided to keep it to yourself. Mainly, how did you get so lucky to end up with a man like him? 

“Are you busy tonight?” he asked. 

“I’m just dropping Chloe off at my mom’s, then I should be free for the evening. Why?”

“Why don’t you come over to my place so we can celebrate? You picked the right time to get a promotion. Sarah’s going to her uncle’s for the weekend.”

“Sounds good to me,” you hummed. “I’ll text you when I’m heading over.”

“Alright. Again, congratulations! So proud.”

You hung up and attempted to get back to work, but you were far too excited to focus for too long. You somehow made it to the end of the work day and to Joel’s house without spontaneously combusting from joy.

When you walked in, you were immediately met with the smells of one of your favorite candles, mixed with the mouthwatering scent of fragrant coming from the kitchen. 

“Joel, I’m home!” you announced, making your way to the kitchen only to find it very dressed up. The lights were dimmed, a crisp white table cloth rested on the table, and a gorgeous arrangement of flowers sat in a vase in the middle of the table, right next to a rather nice looking bottle of champagne. 

Joel was finishing up plating something spectacular as you came in. “Please, have a seat,” he directed. You didn’t need to be told twice. 

With the arrangement of the table, you almost felt like you were sitting at a fancy little restaurant, but better, knowing all the effort Joel had put into making the table look this way.  He brought over two plates, set one over at his seat and one in front of you, before leaning down and kissing you gently. 

“Congratulations. I am so, so, so proud of you,” he said after finally pulling away, reaching for the bottle of champagne on the table.

“If anyone in the world deserves good things,” he turned away from you so that he could safely pop the bottle. “It’s you. I’m glad you’re finally getting the recognition that you deserve.”

With the bottle opened, he poured you out a glass, then poured himself some. You lifted up your glass and Joel mirrored you.

“Cheers,” you said with a grin, tapping your glasses together, then taking a sip. Once you finished drinking, Joel leaned in for one more kiss before he situated himself back into his chair. 

“I think you deserve a promotion from best boyfriend in the world to best boyfriend in the universe,” you softly laughed, looking down at your plate. 

“Do I? I think anyone would celebrate the person they…” he paused for just a split second, and you probably wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t paying such close attention. “The person they’re sharing their life with if they made a big accomplishment like this.”

“Honey, you’d be very surprised. I can think of at least one person who would view this promotion as a bad thing.”

“Well, don’t think about them right now. This is an amazing thing, and we’re celebrating you today. Not an insecure man with a Napoleon complex and a small penis.”

You laughed out loud, nearly choking on a bubbly sip of champagne. 

“You’re right,” you picked up your fork and knife, reading to dig into the amazing looking meal in front of you. “Thank you for this, Joel. You always make me feel so appreciated and cherished. You’re truly one of a kind.”

He shook his head bashfully at the compliment, eating right along with you. It was almost cute how he never seemed to accept compliments, but certainly deserved them more than basically any other person that you knew. 

“You always show me how much you care about me. It’s only fair that I do the same.”

“You’re so romantic,” you sighed. “How can I guarantee that I can keep you around forever?”

“Just keep being you, I guess. That’s all I’ve really ever wanted.”

How did you get so lucky? How did you manage to hit the jackpot on men with Joel, almost let it slip through your fingers not once, but twice, and still managed to end up with one of your favorite people in the world? 

However it ended up happening, you certainly weren’t mad at it, and as you sat together, you hoped for things never to change. 

Plus One

Given that you practically lived at each other’s homes now, you often spent your mornings together getting ready to take on the day. It was cute how you both had your own little routines and were able to coexist in a tiny little space. 

Today, you stood in Joel’s bathroom, washing your face as the mirror across from you began to become progressively more foggy from the heat of Joel’s shower. 

“My hair is gonna be so frizzy,” you muttered to yourself as you rubbed moisturizer into your skin. 

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to come in here with me,” Joel shot back from the shower, turning the water off. 

“Whatever,” you grumbled, getting back to work on your face as Joel dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his waist. 

“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy in the morning,” he commented as he approached you, standing next to you at the sink. 

“I am not grumpy,” you argued, then paused once Joel gave you a very disbelieving expression. “Fine. I can get a little irritable in the morning. Especially when someone’s boiling hot showers make my hair get all frizzy.”

“I wonder who that someone is?” Joel looked around the room in faux confusion. 

“Ugh, shut up. You are such a dad,” you fought back laughter, but you couldn’t really help the smile that appeared on your lips. 

“Shutting up,” Joel acknowledged, grabbing his razor and some shaving cream to touch up some of his facial hair. You began to brush your teeth, focusing on yourself in the mirror to make sure that you were making your dentist proud. 

Your eyes eventually migrated and were meeting Joel’s in the mirror. You flashed him a big, foamy grin, and he immediately broke into hysterics, setting the razor down so he didn’t cut himself while laughing so hard. 

“Really?” he asked between laughs. “While I’m shaving?”

“Sorry,” you shrugged with a self-satisfied smirk. 

“You are such a dork,” Joel sighed as he calmed himself down, leaning against the counter as he began to work on shaving his face once more. “Ugh, I love you,” the words seemed to come out of his mouth involuntarily, if the horrified look on his face told you anything. 

It seemed like the whole house stopped after Joel said it, the dripping from the showerhead ceasing, the faint buzz of the air conditioner nowhere to be found, and the noises of your children downstairs coming to a halt.

You were shocked at the admission, and Joel seemed to be shocked that he’d said anything. 

Now that he’d mentioned it, you really did love Joel. You loved how he supported you, and how he treated your daughter like she was his own. You loved that he wasn’t afraid to fight for what he believed in, especially when that included socking your ex in the face. You loved his ability to be vulnerable with you, and the way that he seemed to always know what to say at the right time. You loved knowing that no matter how shitty of a day you’d had, Joel would always be there, ready to order your favorite foods and spoon you while decompressing with the worst, most trashy reality TV you could find. 

You’d spent all this time thinking that you’d never experience romantic love again, that romantic love was tumultuous and exhausting, when you’d been in love with Joel the whole time. 

You were one of those people who were meant to love and be loved. Joel had proven that much to you. 

“I love you too,” you confessed, toothpaste still obstructing your mouth.

Maybe love wasn't so bad after all.

[reggies-eyeliner]

OKAY AN EXTREMELY SELF-INDULGENT SENSELESS RAMBLE ABOUT JWCT REGARDING GRIEF AND EMOTIONS AND FOUND FAMILY AND COMPLEX CHARACTERS COMING UP AHEAD WOOP WOOP !!!

i cannot stress to you enough. how much i love the way they write processing trauma. like yeah trauma is all silly and angst and whatever but it's a real thing like genuinely and it's exhausting to see shows just dismiss it over and over again but THIS SHOW I SWEAR IT'S JUST. EVERYTHING IS DONE SO SO WELL AND I AM ETERNALLY GRATEFUL LIKE

and not to mention that the animation SERIOUSLY DOES IT JUSTICE like the expressions are SO GOOD OH MY GOSH LIKE IT'S I'M THEY'RE YEAH THE EXPRESSIONS. ARE INCREDIBLE. that looks darius got in his eyes when he KNEW the password to brooklyn's phone and kenji didn't??? so good SO GOOD and just the way their eyes all shine before they start crying is actually done so well that if you listen carefully you can feel my heart breaking

also i love how like emotional processing is also written so much. all of them aren't afraid to cry and i feel like that's just. yeah it's beautiful. they cry soft they cry loud whatever it is they're comfortable enough to do so and if they're not they at least know they won't be judged for it ARE YOU KIDDING ME I'M GOING TO BITE A TABLE?????

the characters have flaws. i love that so much. the characters are not perfect but they're still likable and it's executed so well. darius' grief is PALPABLE and kenji's anger, albeit sometimes annoying, is so understandable that you can't actually be angry or annoyed with him because the story writing makes you understand. that's incredible. yasmina struggles with anxiety and ptsd and she gets frustrated and that is !! okay !! sammy ignores her emotions and struggles with toxic positivity but we understand *why* she talks to yasmina that way (because she's worried and scared and concerned for her girlfriend, but she's also just as worried of truly addressing what she's been through) so it's so hard to get mad at her. ben is THANJ GOODNESS not mischaracterized as a cinnamon roll and is actually a complex character with complex emotions and i can't get enough of it. he's like a pain he's so annoying sometimes but it's endearing because he reminds you of that one classmate from elementary that makes you go ohhh yeah no it's him that's fine

okay paragraph was getting long but I do have more to say about kenji. the relationships in this show are executed SO WELL and I'm beyond relieved that Kenji and Daniel's relationship was written INCREDIBLY WELL

like. okay first off the asian rep YEAHGHH IT EAS GOOD !!! WOOP WOOP YRAHAHDH HONK HONK the part about kenji saying he should get his violin after daniel was like telling his sob story was SO FUNNY OH MH GOSH

and just. kenji and daniel kon. im. like his dad was never perfect. far from it and yet kenji just he loves him so much and wants to make him proud and it makes me sick because the writing helps you UNDERSTAND why

daniel keeps giving kenji ultimatums and kenji standing up to him for once just. yeah. that was done incredibly well. and then not even ten minutes after daniel started to change and gave his son something without expecting anything in return other than his presence daniel gets eaten alive in front of him.

okay now this show holy moly i was NOT expecting daniel to just. get ripped apart but um YEAH THAT HAPPENED and the grief was written so well I cannot stress this enough. I loathe in movies and shows when they skim past traumatic deaths and just act like the grief is just non existent and this show does an incredible job at showing that it is VERY MUCH STILL THERE and it makes people out there who are struggling feel a little less crazy and that's so beautiful

i've been a benrius enthusiast since day one and honestly at this point i just hope everything goes well for them moving on. brooklyn's death and Darius coping with her grief was done SO SO WELL and honestly okay as much as i love sibling-type dinostar i think rewatching scenes with the lens that he was in love with her just makes it hurt so much and it's just. yeah. it's written well.

I will say that I think the story could have gone on without Darius confessing his love to Brooklyn, and the scene where Kenji asked Darius about the voicemails could have been used solely as a chance to highlight grief. another way the scene could have gone was if kenji sifted through the voicemails and just heard Darius's voice shatter in a way he's never quite heard it or listened to darius blame himself and that could have been a moment for kenji to realize that grief isn't something people should deal with alone, that *he* shouldn't deal with grief alone

regardless i really do think the idea that Darius was in love with Brooklyn was done really well. I don't know a better way for kenji to have figured out the truth, and for that I am grateful :D!! I hope the hardcore shippers don't get too mad though 😭

also I absolutely loved the lady with the whistle. she's cool. her character design is terrifying and the way she treats the dinosaurs reminds me a of a queen that is very fond of her workers like 😭 she's cool but also i would never want her within a 100 mile radius of me

the found family in this show is actually. yeah. it makes me cry because it's just done so well because it doesn't idealize perfect relationships. there are awkward moments, there are sad moments, characters still feel broken and alone despite having people who've actively said that they'd go to the moon and back for them. it's realistic and it's written beautifully

I think Darius might actually be the character with The Writing ever. his grief and his nostalgia, his awkwardness and fascination with learning and his kindness are all things that exist together and I am so so grateful for that. he's allowed to laugh and make jokes while feeling constant, looming guilt. he is fascinated with learning while also struggling to feel like he deserves to be happy, he enjoys learning about dinosaurs while also being terrified of them on the worst days. he feels guilty and feels like a bad person. but he's loved and he's cared for. can you tell he's my favorite now because

enamored with yasmina and sammy as always. they are just the girlfriends ever and i love so much how openly they communicate with each other. sammy apologizes when she makes mistakes, yasmina doesn't hold it against her. they're always at each other's sides and their love isn't conditional. i love them SO MUCH

okay sorry im making this about darius again but this guy actually is The character ever. I don't think I've ever felt so seen in a character and i just yeah the writers are incredible because all of the characters are written to feel relatable, and if not that, to feel real. it was just a huge comfort to me to know that okay im not crazy for feeling this way because of a character, who was written and animated by dozens and dozens of creators was allowed to be written this way, i'm not messed up in the head, im just processing emotions and it's okay that I need help for that

THIS SOUNDS SO CRINGE I AM SO SORRY

but yeah i. i love this show.

[bliss-in-the-void]

Gege Akutami, You Do Not Understand Gojo Satoru, and Here is Why

I was reading this article to help me cope with the traumatic events of Chapter 236 when a certain portion didn’t sit right with me.

Long post, click to read the full analysis:

(this is probably the most important post I've made so far)

Now, we all know that Gege doesn’t like Gojo. They don’t make it a secret in the slightest. Which is fine in itself, as an author you are 100% within your right to hate a character you created, and I respect that—it gives dimension to the dynamic of a story.

What I don’t care for is the reasons Akutami lists for their dislike of Gojo.

Reason #1 as stated in the above blurb of the article: Gojo doesn’t have depth.

To me, this is a wild statement to make as an author, but especially as the one who wrote Gojo. Where does he lack depth? Genuine question.

I believe he is an incredibly complex character.

He is the first sorcerer in centuries to be born with the Six Eyes and Limitless techniques, which automatically sets up so many nuances. Coupled with the fact that Akutami has stated that he grew up spoiled, that right there should tell you some things about why he is the way he is. He has a bit of an inflated ego when it comes to his powers. And why wouldn’t he? From the time he was born, the people around him treated him like some sort of God. How else was he supposed to grow up? He’s told his whole life he possesses unparalleled power, and he’s going to believe that.

Even still, it really isn’t as unchecked as Akutami seems to believe it is. Despite his distaste for authority, Gojo still reports to the higher ups, goes on missions, exorcizes curses, and works collaboratively with his fellow sorcerers. If he was really the giant egomaniac Akutami argues that he is, he’d say ‘to hell with authority’ and run off to do whatever he wants like Yuki. I mean, COME ON, this guy is the most powerful modern sorcerer and he still attended all four years of high school. He could have easily never attended—who was going to stop him?

He has a peculiar sense of humor that can get inappropriately timed in certain moments, but it’s obvious that it’s a deflection and a coping mechanism for the horrors of a sorcerer’s reality. He doesn’t just joke about death and dying because he doesn’t care. He cares too much and he doesn’t know how to deal with it, so he suppresses and laughs it off. Moments like this are seen after Suguru dies in JJK 0 when he was clearly crying afterward, but had to put on a cheerful facade for Yuuta and the other students.

He is a very good teacher. It’s hard for a naturally gifted prodigy to effectively teach things which come automatically to them, and somehow he finds creative ways to do it. Teaching Yuuji to control cursed energy by using one of Yaga’s dolls and giving him a movie marathon? One of Yuuji’s favorite hobbies? Genius and so considerate for Yuuji. He’d just been thrown into the sorcerer world, learning all these new things, and Gojo decided to introduce a foreign concept to him through something familiar and comfortable to him. That is amazing, and the mark of a very kind, understanding teacher. He’s also really patient with his students. Yes, he gives them tough love sometimes by throwing them into missions, but it really is to make them strong. How else will they grow if they aren’t put under pressure?

His motivation for being a teacher is very selfless. He himself has stated that he isn’t suited to be a teacher, but that he has a dream to raise a generation of strong allies to prevent isolation from occurring like what had happened to Suguru. He felt guilty about growing apart from him, didn’t see the warning signs before he snapped, and regrets not being there for him more. His entire purpose now is dedicated to making sure the new wave of sorcerers have a tightly-knit network so that no one ends up alone and on a dark path like Suguru.

He constantly sticks his neck out for the helpless even when it’s far from his benefit. He paid off the Zenin clan to save Megumi, the child of the man who ruined his high school years and nearly killed him. He then raised him. He threatened the higher ups to keep Yuuta alive, and then did it again for Yuuji. He does this to preserve their youth, because his own was taken away from him. His whole life he’d been controlled by the higher ups and people around him because of who he is in the sorcerer world, so by waving his own status in front of authority to hold them back from his students, he acts as a sort of shield to take as many burdens off of their shoulders as he can so that they can remain carefree. As much as he can within his power.

With all of that being said, I really don’t understand where Akutami is coming from with lack of depth, but another argument I say to that statement is: well, you’re the author, give him the depth you think he’s missing. (Personally, I believe he’s one of the best-written characters in any anime I’ve seen).

Reason #2 is that according to Akutami, he doesn’t have a likable personality.

What about his personality is unlikable?

He is cocky, but not to the point where he stops caring about others, not to the point where he never considers how other people feel or how his actions affect other people, and not to the point where he never feels guilt and remorse about his shortcomings. Like I said, he lives his life trying to prevent his past from repeating itself, to save the fates of others.

I really don’t get it. In JJK 0, after Nitta gives her report on the shopping mall, Gojo thanks her and praises her. Would a cocky asshole do that? No. If you wanted to characterize him as unlikable, you could have made him dismiss her, or ignore her.

He makes pop culture references, he has endearing flaws like not being good at drawing, being a lightweight drinker, and overdoing it on the sweets. He’s funny, he’s kind, he’s considerate…he is a very likable character.

Honestly, the self-absorption he displays when he’s fighting is probably a result of his upbringing. Being told you have so much power you have so much power you have so much power over and over again instills this belief that yes, he’s needed by Jujutsu Society to fight curses as a weapon. As. A. Weapon. The Six Eyes & Limitless user is a formidable weapon, but what about Satoru Gojo, the person? The only time he feels useful is when he’s fighting curses. That’s where he gets his self-worth. We can see that expressed in this panel, from Chapter 236:

In the second half of Gojo’s second text bubble, he says, “でもどこかで人としてというより生き物としての線引きがあったのかな”.

This translates to: “But I wonder if somewhere there was a line drawn between being a creature rather than a person.”

Rather than having drew the line himself, being constantly treated like the strongest, being handed over the difficult missions, being relied on so heavily pushed him away from other people. It distorted the perception everyone had of him, and it distorted the perception he had of himself. He also believed he could never lose because he let his human side fade into the background. The world didn't need human Satoru Gojo, they needed sorcerer Satoru Gojo, the one who could bend rules to his will with his might, the one who could exorcise any curse and save the day no matter how bad things got. Why would he remain human when that part of him was treated as non-existent? The only person who did treat him as a person with weaknesses and flaws has been dead for eleven years. Of course that voice of reason is going to fizzle out.

How can you possibly vilify him for that? It would be a disservice to everything he has had to endure his entire life.

Reason #3 and the last point I want to touch on is when the article says, "Akutami believes that much of this adoration is based solely on his striking appearance, overshadowing his more abrasive personality traits."

Okay. Where to start?

Honestly, and I know this is probably not Akutami's intention, but that comes off as so condescending. It's so presumptuous. It's as if to say we're all going "ooh look at pretty man, pretty man do no wrong because too pretty" mindlessly with dilated pupils and drool coming out of our mouths. Uh. No.

Yes, Satoru is a good-looking character, but no, that is very far from why we like him so much as a character, and it's also very far from why he's so popular. Aside from all of the points I've made above explaining why he's so universally loved, I'll make another one that isn't superficial and tired.

He's so relatable.

This is a man so incredibly traumatized by his high school years that he is mentally and emotionally unable to move on. Suguru Geto was his very best friend, and for reasons he took too long to understand, chose to abandon their friendship for his own goals. For anyone who has grown apart from a best friend, this hits so hard.

Because of his upbringing it was hard to become close to anyone. But somehow, Suguru was able to break past his walls, and for that, he became entirely too dependent on him. This is common for anyone who finds it hard to make friends and get close to others. Once someone is allowed in, you cling so hard to them and imagine them being there for your entire life. So, when they leave, you take it entirely too personally.

Everyone has a right to live their own lives, and as we see with the divergence of Suguru and Satoru, sometimes our paths aren't leading to the same place. It's not personal. But Satoru took it personal, and that's so beautifully human. When you lose a best friend who was important to you, you think "I like being around this person, they put me at ease in a way no one else does", and you assume they feel the same way about you. So when they leave and show you that no, they didn't feel the same, it hurts. It's almost as if they're saying "I actually do think you're unlovable like everyone else, that's why no one likes you, you are too much."

Someone you thought was safe, isn't anymore.

That is such a relatable thing to watch a character go through! Especially someone as awe-inspiring and charismatic as Gojo! As an audience, we think, "he's just like me!" and we like him for it.

So, as I stated in the title, Gege Akutami, you don't understand Satoru Gojo at all. I commend you for writing such an amazing, iconic, universally loved character, but I will never understand nor respect the superficial way in which you perceive him.

[milkb0nny]

Hello! May I request Jing Yuan and Welt finding usually silly and vibrant reader laying on the ground unmoving and unresponsive. Upon closer inspection they realize reader is crying with a blank expression . Turns out reader had to confront some people who hurt them deeply in the past and afterwards reader just shut down.

(I hope this isn't too much info. If your not comfy feel free to decline, I'd appreciate if you let me know though (mostly just for my peace of mind 😅))

Thank you.

🥐

Jing Yuan and Welt comforting their unresponsive s/o

Jing Yuan x gn!reader, Welt x gn! reader

Note: Thank you very much for this request! I love this idea and it was very healing while writing it. Everyone has their own struggles, so angsty fluff is always a good way to cope with stuff. Nevertheless, I hope you'll like it. Take care! 🤎

Warnings: mentions of trauma in the past, crying, unresponsive reader

𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧...

Jing Yuan, the General of the Xianzhou, stood beside his usually bubbly and extroverted partner, who was now unresponsive and in tears. He questioned himself, as he never saw you in such a sorry state. Sure, some days you cried on his shoulders and expressed your anxiety openly, but this was another level. Jing Yuan was torn apart by the sight of your motionless body that seemed to be glued on the ground. Never in his life did he expect you to be shaken to this point. The normally well put together man felt somehow responsible for your horrifying breakdown. Of course, Jing Yuan loved you and did everything for you. Witnessing how the tears left your eyes, creating a small puddle beneath your face, meant that he hadn’t been there the right time.

The traumatic encounter with the person linked to your past had left you deeply shattered, unable to contain the flood of emotions. Jing Yuan's calm and gentle nature belied the weight he carried as a leader, but in this moment, he was solely focused on comforting the love of his life. No matter what had happened to you in the past, he was now your new protector and savior from all the pain. The tall man came closer to you, slowly approaching you as he wanted to avoid frightening you. However, you flinched a little as he accidentally made a wrong move, and that alone caused unbelievable rage inside of him. How could someone harm you in this way, so much that you even flinch in sight of your partner.

Kneeling down beside your aching body, he slowly reached out and gently wiped away your hot tears, his touch soft as a breeze through the leaves. His voice, usually commanding on the battlefield, was now tender and soothing.

“My love, I'm here with you. You're safe with me,” he whispered, his gentleness pouring into your consciousness.

Your devastating sobs continued, but you still shifted your gaze to Jing Yuan, finding solace in the warmth of his presence. He wrapped his strong, protective arms around you, allowing you to bury your puffy face in his welcoming chest. He hummed reassuring words, his deep voice a balm to your distressed soul. Oh, he couldn’t imagine how much your sweet heart must suffer.

“You don't have to face this alone, darling. I'm here, right here, and I won't let anyone hurt you again. We'll heal together,” his words hit you like a struck, releasing you from the freezing trauma, and finally you can take a deep breath, that you missed the whole time. His love always softened you up but it also made you bawl your eyes out even more. Though, Jing Yuan never minded - it didn’t matter to him how much you sob and cry because all these emotions deserve to be heard.

Jing Yuan's love for you, his partner, was unwavering. He would willingly lay down his life to see you smile again in dark times, and this moment, as you clung to him, was a testament to that devotion. He was determined to be your sole anchor, to help you find your way back from the darkness that haunted you.

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭...

Welt, a respected and wise member of the Express, was known for his rationality and stern demeanor. March never mined his serious personality, but sometimes even she was a little intimidated by it - he always handled difficult things so easily. However, when it came to his lovely partner, he wore his heart on his sleeve. He had never expected to involve himself in a romantic relationship, but you entered his life with full grace. The moment he had set his tired eyes on you, all life flowed back into his senses, desiring you. He couldn't bear to see you unresponsive and in tears, especially knowing the cause was a traumatic reminder of the past. Welt didn’t need to analyze your state, as you had once told him about your past, but viewing your shivering yet still body caused a rip in his heart.

With utmost care and gentleness, Welt approached you, who had withdrawn into silence. He knew very well how to bring you back to the present. To be honest, he was glad to find you in this state, as he wouldn’t forgive himself, if he never discovered your fragile being. You usually hid in placed where you knew you were alone, though this time you were unable to make it. The man who found you was the safest space in the universe. Welt, gentler with you than with anyone, could never hurt you.

He spoke softly, his words laced with genius concern. "Love, I know you can hear me. You’re safe now, no one can do you harm. Whatever you're feeling, I'm here. Come here in my lap," his deep voice rushed through your foggy mind, and you eased up as the hope of safety proved itself.

Your mesmerizing eyes, usually filled with admiration and enjoyment of life, now reflected endless pain and vulnerability - vulnerability that made you feel so week too. Welt carefully took your ice-cold hand and held it firmly, his touch conveying reassurance and strength. His warmth was a contrast to the coldness of your skin, to you it felt reassuring though. His touch felt like the rising sun, slowly demolishing ice and uncovering nature, causing everything to bloom. You bloomed, pushing the hardships of your past away.

“You don't have to face this pain alone. I'm by your side, always," Welt inquired once more, promising you his love.

Welt's wisdom usually extended beyond the realms of intellect; it encompassed the depth of his emotional connection with you. He knew how to provide comfort, how to be the sanctuary you needed in this moment of turmoil. He was willing to give his all, even if it meant sacrificing himself, to see you going through this dark chapter. Kindness, food, a shelter - those were things everyone could give to you but Welt was the only one who collected all your pain and released you from it. Since you engaged in a relationship with the stern man, you healed more and more.

In this moment you started to cling to him, seeking solace in his embrace. Welt's facade of stoicism cracked, revealing the depth of love he held within. He adored you so much. He was ready to face any storm with you, protecting you at all costs, and cherishing the vulnerability that only he was privileged to witness. Welt loved how you expressed your feelings and he was proud - endlessly proud of you that you call out to him, even if you are non verbal.

[froot-batty]

FINALLY.

lore under the cut! (warning it's uh. it's long)

Because the two of them are very closely entwined, I'll write their backstories as one big thing instead of individually

Bruce Wayne had the life every kid dreamed about. The child of two successful, wealthy, loving parents, his own staff, and the ability to go wherever or do whatever he wanted in the city. Well, with parental supervision, of course. Thomas and Martha, though they believed in Gotham and saw the good in it, also tended to shelter Bruce a bit, just to keep him away from the dangerous parts. Unfortunately this backfired, making young Bruce only want to go into the city alone even more.

Harvey Dent was the polar opposite of Bruce. He grew up in the worst part of the Narrows, with a single immigrant mother who was constantly taken advantage of by their landlord or her various bosses. While she loved him dearly, she couldn't be there all of the time for him (due to her needing to work multiple jobs) or protect him from the horrors going on outside their door. He bore witness to a great deal of traumatic things, and eventually took to leaving his house when his mother wasn't home in order to get a reprieve.

Bruce and Harvey first met when they were very young children, as Harvey was wandering the streets near his home and Bruce had escaped to go and explore the Narrows. They clicked almost instantly; despite the differences in the way they grew up, they both shared the dream that Gotham was, at it's core, a good place (or could be a good place). Harvey eventually introduced his childhood friend (and neighbor) Selina Kyle to Bruce, and they became a tight trio for many years.

Bruce's parents died when he was 11. His grief made his ventures out to the Narrows lessen, but Harvey and Selina would often make trips to Bruce's house to make sure he was okay.

Harvey's mother died when he was 15. She had been sick for years now, and the constant stress of having to work multiple jobs eventually got to her. He appeared to cope with it easily enough, but on the inside, his anger towards the perceived injustice she received would never really fade.

Even as they grew older, and neared adulthood, Bruce's and Harvey's friendship seemed as strong as one could be. At least, that's what Harvey thought, until the moment Bruce completely vanished from Gotham altogether. Bruce's disappearance made Harvey and Selina drift apart, so Harvey in turn poured himself into his studies at college. It would be 15 years until Harvey saw Bruce again, and though part of him wanted to be angry, he was just desperately happy to see his best friend again.

Harvey by then was well into his career as District Attorney, and had aspirations of running for mayor in the upcoming election. Bruce was the one who eventually encouraged him to do it, promising funds and all the help Harvey could need to run his campaign. There was another person planning on running for mayor in the election, one Oswald Cobblepot, but neither of them worried too much about him, at the start.

By this time Bruce had reconnected with Selina as well. Harvey and Selina never could get as close as they were in their childhood, so her instant connection with Bruce began to make Harvey a little worried. A little jealous. He didn't want to lose his best friend again, even if it was to someone who was supposed to also be his friend. Harvey acting weird began to drive Bruce away a little bit, which only pushed him further to Selina, creating a vicious cycle between the two of them.

Well into the swing of the mayoral campaign, Harvey began to...lose it a little bit. He had begun recieving open threats on his life (from Oswald, but he didn't know that at the time, and began to think people were conspiring against him), and his paranoia over that along with everything going on with Bruce and Selina made things up top get worse. By now he was fully distancing himself from his two friends, and started to wonder if they were plotting against him.

Everything came to a head when Harvey was due to make a speech at Wayne Manor. It was only a night or two until the results of the election would be announced, and Bruce had thrown a party in honor of Harvey's campaign (and in the hopes it'd cheer him up). Harvey initially didn't want to do a speech, but Bruce encouraged it, and the District Attorney took the stage.

Unbeknownst to him, Oswald had planned to send Dent a final message - one that would take him out of the running completely.

He paid a man to dress up as a waiter and infiltrate the party. Harvey was in the middle of his speech when Penguin's man ran up to the stage and threw a glass full of acid directly at his face.

This was Harvey's breaking point. Forced to drop out of the race and his mind in tatters, he fully believed that Bruce was in on the plot to take him out, and turned his back both to him and Selina. Where they had bonded over the idea of making Gotham better, this is where they'd fall apart; because Harvey still believes that he can improve Gotham, even if he has to burn the city to the ground to do it.

(Both of them are Bisexual. Harvey also has OSDD-1, which I will probably explain in another post, since this one's way too long)

[lady-embers]

I think a lot of people continuously overlook the GOOD Nesta did during the series and only focus on her "hateful attitude". Sometimes actions show more than words and Nesta is an action girly.

ACOTAR- She tried to protect Feyre in the market. She went after Feyre when Tamlin took her. She essentially told Feyre to go and save Tamlin and not to worry about them. She was ready to marry someone to help have one less mouth to feed for Feyre. She chopped wood for two days in a row.

Also, I think this quote is important from book 1 from Feyre about Nesta:

"I looked at my sister, really looked at her, at this woman who couldn't stomach the sycophants who now surrounded her, who had never spent a day in the forest but had gone into wolf territory.... Who had shrouded the loss of our mother, then our downfall, in icy rage and bitterness, because the anger had been a lifeline, the cruelty a release. But she HAD cared - beneath it, she had cared, and perhaps, loved more fiercely than I could comprehend, more deeply and loyally."

ACOMAF - She wasn't in here much but both her and Elain opened their home to Feyre and the IC for the war purposes when they were taught their whole life to be scared/fear the fae and ended up turned against their will for their efforts which is incredibly traumatic.

ACOWAR - Nesta helped with the Queens and the High Lords. She helped Feyre and the whole Raven attack thingy. She participated in the war and almost died trying to save Cassian and then beheaded Hybern. She then helped tend to the wounded and dieing. She really had no time to sort through her own trauma during this time either since she was looking after comatose Elain and in a place where she didn't want to be.

ACOFAS - We see her drowning in her trauma. She can't even take baths (which Feyre had said in ACOWAR she'd help with as she never thought about how the Cauldron affected them). She is invited to party with rent money held over her head (despite the fact she had a job as human emissary during the war so where is the money promised to her from accepting that job from Rhysand?) While there, Feyre remarks how uncomfortable Nesta is but doesn't both to wonder why, and come to find out fire bothers her because it reminds her of her father's neck snapping RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER. Cassian runs after her and even though she wants to be alone she's hounded and is seen as the bad guy for not taking his gift. A gift he proceeds to throw away, like a child, into the water because she didn't take it...At this point she just wanted to be left alone and they kept hounding her and not respecting boundaries she was putting up.

ACOSF - She is still drowning..she is forced into the HOW (feyre said she'd be tied and thrown there essentially so it wasn't really a choice) where she has to walk down 10,000 steps (which she physically/mentally/emotionally could not do so she was essentially a prisoner since no help was offered by feyre and Amren own words and let's not forget those same steps were used as punishment for Rhysand and the bat boys)..she starts training though and finds her own found family in Gwyn and Emerie. She helps the IC multiple times with things in ACOSF to and even saves Rhysand, Feyre, and Nyx very lives. She even says sorry to Feyre and Feyre doesn't hold anything against Nesta, not even telling her about the babies wings because at least she told her. We also find out she tried to write letters to others to help during their poverty times and her boots weren't as new as Feyre made then out to be showing Feyre as an unreliable/biased narrator.

All in all, I wouldn't say Nesta is an absolutely terrible horrible nasty person that is beyond redemption or forgiveness.

She is a woman who has been traumatized from a very young age starting with her mother/grandmother to being turned fae to PTSD from war/her father and doesn't know how to cope so she lashes out (which is a VALID TRAUMATIC RESPONSE) to push others away because she HATES herself more than anyone else does. She knew lashing out was wrong but didn't have the tools/upbringing to know healthy responses. It's really not until Gwyn and Emerie came along and showed her UNCONDITIONAL LOVE that she began to change and learn better and new healthy coping mechanism to let go of the bad ones.

Now, I'm not saying her trauma response was good or acceptable or excusable, but I do think she deserves some grace and compassion given all she's been through herself. Trauma is not a comparison game after all and we all experience and cope differently. Just like these characters.

Artist is Crisol Crowling or crisolcrowling on IG!

[genderqueerdykes]

okay.

I’ve never seen your blog before now, and I don’t follow you.

but oh my fucking god thank you so much

as an it/its user (not my primary but I still wish people would use them) thank you so much. I’ve seen your posts on people disregarding it/its pronouns users because they just don’t want to use them and I just

thank you thank you thank you for talking about it

sorry if this makes no sense, it’s 9pm where I am and I spent all day at marching band practice so I’m extremely tired

thank you for your kind words! i really appreciate it!

i appreciate knowing how many other it/its users needed that to be said and how it has positively affected a lot of people. it's never okay for someone to put their personal discomfort over a set of pronouns over someone else being referred to correctly. this is misgendering. this is transphobia

it doesn't matter if the pronouns are "weird" or "uncommon"

i've gotten a lot of really fucked up asks about this and i'm going to keep talking about it because peoples' excuses for why they proudly and gladly misgender other people and refuse to use their pronouns are so petty and never that person's fault. it's never that person harming them, it's always that person projecting their trauma on to the it/its users. it's exhausting to read because nobody does this for he/him or she/her. it's specifically an issue with it/its beceause people overscrutinize it to hell and back and act like because they participated in the mental olympics over this one set of pronouns that they're right about it. they're not. they're rude, and anal.

people get stuck on the "it's dehumanizing" thing. this is such a divided argument, because for many people, they enjoy the dehumanization aspect of it, because they are nonhuman on some level. enough people are aware of otherkin, therians, and so on that i want people to understand that for some people this is a good thing and it is a desired effect. if you are uncomfortable with that, it's up to you to get past that, or learn to understand that you are not under attack because you are referring to someone else in a way that makes them happy and comfortable

other people just do not find it dehumanizing at all and that's fine. people often refer to babies and children with it/its, why can't we do this for adults? it's not inherently dehumanizing. it's not inherently an attack to use these pronouns for someone. some people love the ambiguity in the gendering. it really is totally devoid of gender and it is a very freeing set of pronouns to use, especially if you just refuse to see it as. not inherently dehumanizing

i am also very tired of people using trauma as a shield to enable them to misgender people. i am traumatized. i have diagnosed PTSD that i've been working on in therapy for 10 years as of this year. i have a lot of issues with being called she/her. i hate it most of the time. only select alters in my system use she/her. i do NOT refuse to use she/her for people who use only that pronoun set, or use it primarily. i would be viewed as transphobic if i said i avoid people who use she/her in order to avoid "traumatic memories from coming up." the thing is, that's going to happen sometimes and it's the trauma bearer's responsibility to deal with it accordingly.

just because you got triggered doesn't mean the other person meant to trigger you. you can't hold a trauma trigger AGAINST someone else who is not attempting to misgender you. when referring to someone with the correct pronouns, it is not YOU being called that set of pronouns. you are not being misgendered by correctly using another person's pronouns.

trauma is up to the individual to accept and overcome. hiding from a trigger perpetually for life will not enable you to accept it, cope, and move on. positive exposure to a trigger helps loosen that trauma's grip on you. you have to expose yourself to it in order to grow. hiding will keep you trapped in the situation you are currently in. you have to step into discomfort in order to learn how to overcome it.

thank you for sending this ask, you are very welcome and i'm really happy to hear you feel the same way. i'm glad you felt seen and heard, i am tired of people getting caught up on the pettiest things humanly possible. we ahve to stop reaching for every excuse to be transphobic to "weird" trans people we don't understand.

stop saying "WE NEED MORE WEIRD QUEERS LOL!!!!!!!!" if you can't even handle IT/ITS USERS !

[everythingmp3]

⎯ ୨ 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩୧ ⎯

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

after your fathers death, you need to push through the grief very quickly to continue his work as one of the most prominent smugglers around. still, the pain of your situation makes you fall further into unhealthy habits and despair, which nobody notices, nobody except for one of your fathers old friends: Tess. she senses that something is off with you and suddenly becomes a surprisingly strong presence in your life. eventually, your feelings for her push you towards letting your guard down.

warnings: minors dni. mentions of drug use and addiction, grief/death of a loved one, smut (reader receiving)

disclaimer: this one is long. Anna Torv got me good, I couldn’t stop thinking about her in the show. I never played the game, so accuracy was not the goal here, I just wanted to write something for the Tess we see in the show! I put a lot of thought and heart into this, so I really hope I can make some Tess girlies out there happy <3 or anyone else who is in the mood for a longer fic!

wordcount: 13k

It would have been absurd to call anyone during or after the outbreak “lucky”, considering the state of the world, but you knew in your heart that your fate had definitely been of the luckier kind. 

up until the outbreak, you and your father had been living as a duo for as long as you could remember. he had raised you as a single father in a small town where he´d worked as a professor, and your life had mostly been a content and peaceful one. 

you´d been old enough during the day of the outbreak to understand what was happening, but not old enough to remember much of it as an adult, the memories were all hazy, one big blur of panic. all you knew was that you two had left in your car in the middle of the night, never looking back once you were on the road, until you somehow got to be two of the first people inhabiting the Boston QZ. 

the first few years were anything but easy. the “schools” you went to were a joke, the structures in place were authoritative and soul crushing, everyone was traumatized and trying to cope one way or another. it was bleak, a sinister chaos, but at night when you sat around the table together, you couldn´t help but feel a sliver of gratitude, you´d both stayed alive, which was nothing short of a miracle.

for about a year post-outbreak, your father just worked whatever jobs were assigned to him, like everyone else. it was routine work, boring, dull, but it kept you two afloat. still, he got restless, a man who´d been used to hours and hours of mental stimulation and human connection, he couldn´t stay in the shadows by himself like that forever, he was itching for more. 

he had an air that granted him respect, so one day he received a proposal: his first contact to the smuggling business. at first, he was hesitant, but it was too tempting in the end, so he accepted, and it worked, better than he expected. it wasn´t exactly a natural progression, his former job in academia to that one, he saw the irony, but both jobs required people skills and he always told you: 90 percent of that kind of work is mental.

everyone was so lost during those early days, that a competent man like him, a mentor, attracted others, especially younger smugglers, like moths to a flame. his responsibilities quickly became more and more serious, people kept pushing him and a few others around his age to do the important organizing, the work that required more brain, not just intimidation and brute force, so about a year into that lifestyle, he slowly but surely became one of the top dogs in the smuggling business.

he kept his private life and business separate, always. he made sure you were safe at home while he was out, but the one thing he did right from the start, was that he told you everything about what he was doing. he knew it would not help you to stay naive and innocent, not in a world like that. he also knew you were smart and bored out of your mind, so what he did, each night, was that he told you every little detail about everyone he came into contact with, every trick he'd learned, every piece of valuable information. 

he trusted you, and he knew he wouldn´t be around to protect you forever, he wanted you to have valuable insight in your hands once you´d have to fend for yourself. so by the time you were 15, you knew pretty much everyone he worked with by name, their secrets, their ways of working, all of it. what he did not know, was that you also had a good amount of secrets of your own: what you did in your spare time, how you managed all those hours on your own.

as a teenager you´d started seeing various bottles of pills he was holding onto for deals laying around the apartment, and you were slick enough to take a few each time without him noticing. you were dealing with something, call it depression, PTSD, anxiety, or a mix of all three, but regardless of terminology: you were going through it and refused to burden him with it. it was far from ideal but taking sedatives helped, mostly Ambien but you weren´t too picky, they just had to be strong. you kept it in check, nobody noticed, not once. 

then, when you were in your early twenties, he fell ill. it was gradual but the hard life had worn him down, his heart was giving out, and all you could do, was to try to spend the rest of his days by his side, which you did. people were devastated, everyone knew him or of him, so some of them even came by your apartment to say their goodbyes, including one of his closest allies: Tess. 

you knew about all of his business partners, and Tess had been one that he really valued, spoke of very highly, always. you´d seen her around a few times and he´d told you a few stories about her, but she was a woman who kept to herself, so he was discreet, never spilling anything about her personal life.

still, she always stuck out to you among the others. even though you´d never even spoken to her, something about her seemed different to you, you could see why he´d worked with her for over a decade by that point, there was a magnetism to her that got to you. sometimes, you caught glimpses of her from afar, and wondered what it was about her, that always made you think of her for the rest of the day.

the day she came to say her goodbyes to him, you couldn´t help it: you stayed just outside of the room to listen. others had cried, been very sentimental, but she just sat there in silence for a good while with him. you swore you could hear her sniffle, but once she stepped out of the room, after you'd quickly hurried down the hall to not be caught, she looked as strong and composed as ever, giving you a small nod as she walked by, nothing more, but in her expression, you could tell she was signaling something to you, that she felt for you. something in her gaze went straight to your heart. 

as his death approached, you knew you had a choice to make. either, you could take over his business, or you could watch some random person attempt to fill the spot he´d leave vacant. early on, you knew, you´d have to take over. there was no way you´d let some psychotic power hungry tyrant swoop in and pick up all the work he´d leave up for grabs.

it was not a dream of yours to become his successor in that world, but dreams were a luxury few could afford those days, and you knew your fate could have been much worse. the decision meant that you´d have to deal with the impending grief in a way that wouldn´t leave you weak and bedbound, so you made a deal with yourself: one day. once he´d die, you´d give yourself one day to fall apart, to fall as deeply into despair as possible. and then, you´d have to get to work and forget all about it. 

even though a few of them had told him that they´d look out for you, you knew smugglers well enough to not trust their patience, their promises. if you´d stay inside grief stricken for weeks, they´d lose respect, they´d forget about you, someone else would catch their attention. besides, you had no interest in pity, in being handled like some precious little thing at risk of falling apart on her own. so, things played out exactly how you planned.

the day he died, you were inconsolable. it was darkness beyond imagination, loneliness unlike you´d ever felt it, your one guardian, one confidant: gone. the tears left your face swollen red, your body exhausted, so at night, you knocked yourself out really well with an extra high dose, knowing you´d have to step out the next day looking normal, respectable, hard to intimidate. 

at first, there were some nerves, but the second you started talking to people, discussing plans, handling deals, you realized you could almost do all of it on auto-pilot because you´d spent years and years absorbing all of his ideas, his language and mannerisms. you were basically inhabiting his ghost as you started making it known that you were taking over, for good, and nobody seemed to question it, even though you were barely above twenty. something about you gave them the vibe of do not mess with her. 

you were convincing in your new position and it helped that they were glad to cling to you, as a biological extension of his legacy. it worked, people respected you, you made sure his previous connections were properly taken over.

still, you felt absolutely horrible. deep down you were eaten up by grief, you were lonely, exhausted, but you simply couldn´t let it show, ever. your habit with the pills became much worse immediately. you used a pretty high dosage to sleep through entire evenings and nights, then you somehow got up and went out to do what you had to do, and repeated that cycle every day, not leaving yourself even one moment of just sitting around and thinking, because you knew once you´d let yourself do that: you´d break. 

what you didn´t know, was that Tess had told people to report to her how you were doing. 

she knew about you, she knew his death would leave you to your own devices, and at first she was convinced you´d be uninterested in taking over, but once she heard that you were doing it, she was alerted. she thought you´d fall flat on your face. a grieving daughter taking all that on? no way. but soon after, she heard back from people that you were working as if nothing had happened, and it puzzled her, that you were shouldering all of it seemingly without trouble. something in her told her: go have a look at that girl, something seems off there. 

Tess remembered your kind face the day she´d seen your father for the last time, the look of something so fragile, so soft in there, it just did not mix with the things she was hearing about you the weeks after his passing. 

so, about three weeks after he died, she made her way to your apartment, knocking around 8 pm. the second you opened the door, you knew of course who the intimidating looking woman in front of you was, but you just looked at her until she said “hey, could I come in for a second?”, her voice low and admittedly kind of alluring, you nodded, waving her in. 

she was the first person who´d had the guts to just come over unannounced, nobody had bothered to come and check on you, which you were mostly glad about, but you couldn´t deny the fact that it felt nice to have someone there for once. 

she walked into the nearest room, the kitchen, with a confidence as if the apartment was hers. you followed, watching her sit down a chair that she pulled away from the dining table, while you stood across the room, leaning against the wall. she cleared her throat, looking at you, her piercing eyes almost making you nervous then. 

“okay listen. your father might have told you this, but just in case he didn´t: i don´t do bullshit. i don´t like to waste time, not mine, not other people´s, so i´m gonna get straight to the point here, okay?” you stared at her, the way she was resting her hands on her knees, leaning forward to emphasize what she was saying, her eyes unyielding. 

you couldn´t help but feel a sense of admiration, her strength practically radiating off of her, you nodded, “sure go ahead”. 

Tess looked at you with something disbelief, “what the fuck is going on?” she asked, quiet, stern. you were not unaffected by the tone, but you were unsure what precisely she was referring to, “what do you mean?”. she shook her head, “save the coy act with me. you know what I mean. the person you have lived with your whole life dies and then two fucking days later you´re out there taking over his business like nothing ever happened? come on. tell me what´s going on here”. you felt caught for a second but then you realized she was only suspecting, she had nothing in her hands to prove that anything was wrong with you, so you did what you did best: deny it.

“I mean… I see how that could seem a bit strange but what good would it do to just weep and mope around all day? I can´t change what happened. I don´t need to cry all day, I can work, I can function, it´s fine.” you almost believed yourself, you were a good liar, but not good enough to fool Tess, hardly anyone could lie to her without being caught. she could tell that beneath the convincing way of putting it that way, you weren´t telling the truth. it was hard to pinpoint how exactly she could tell, because your voice was no giveaway, neither was your demeanor, but something told her immediately that you were a person who knew how to hide things well, partially because she had the same talent herself. 

“that sounds great on paper, really, but the way your father described you, it just doesn´t make sense, sorry, I don´t buy it.”

you were a little defensive then. “oh yeah, what did he say?” she grinned for a moment, relieved you were at least in a state that allowed you to push back.

 “well, he liked to brag. he often told me how sweet you were, how you remained kind and thoughtful even during the end of the fucking world, with him doing shady business and no mother around to look after you. i recall the word “angel” being used a few times. I don´t see a girl like that being all unaffected and tough mere days after her dad´s death, not without finding some strange ways to cope. so I am concerned.”

you took in the words, almost emotional then, but keeping it together, struck by the word concern. nobody had clocked it, that you weren´t truly doing that great, but here Tess came, unwilling to just take the lie and leave you be. part of you felt relief at being seen for once, by her of all people, the one regularly described as “cold. hardass. not to go to with puppy eyes asking for forgiveness after fucking a job up”. there she was, inquiring about a stranger´s well being. still, you couldn´t get yourself to give her the answer she wanted.

“concerned? you hardly know me” you deflected, and she scoffed then, throwing her hands up, “yeah sure. you´re only the freshly orphaned daughter of a man I knew for about 15 years, why should i give a fuck, right?”. you couldn´t argue with that, realizing that she was also just trying her best to do the right thing. 

“sorry, I didn´t mean it like that. it´s just, i am doing everything right. why do i have to justify that?”. you were defensive because you knew, if you allowed yourself to open up to her, it would end with you in tears, and you weren´t up for it. still, it hurt, to be offered some solace and refuse it. 

she insisted, “yes but that´s exactly what strikes me as odd. now would be the moment to do it all wrong, to be weak, to mess up, yet here you are, walking those damn streets like you´re the new sheriff in town. and hey, i´ll give it to you, you´re doing a good job, but something is off, and i want to understand.”

“I am just doing what has to be done” you said, a defeated tone to it, which she didn´t love hearing. she was losing her patience, “listen to me. you should be taking a break right now. this is about the hardest thing to go through, you should not be pushing yourself the way you are, not right now, not like this”.

you were quiet, looking at her, your eyes not obviously soft but something was in there, she saw a glimpse of vulnerability, but then it escaped her again. you were stubborn, a few more moments of your wordlessness made her realize that you wouldn´t talk. Tess knew she was onto something but you wouldn´t let her in, so she leaned back and exhaled, looking up at the ceiling, her shirt lifting up a little, a glimpse of her skin, it burned in your vision for a split second.

“okay, you don´t wanna talk, that´s fine. but trust me, I know grief and I know denial. I´ve been around long enough to have seen it many times, what repression of all that shit can do to someone. so, I guess, this is my way of saying: be careful. and I might not be the one for big speeches or touchy feely shit, but I do care. so, keep that in mind if you ever need… well, help.” she got up then, straightening out her clothes, running her hands through her long slightly gray hair, looking a little worn out from the day, but still, extremely striking. she was a sight that stirred something deep inside of you, you couldn´t deny it, even while being confronted by her, you couldn´t stop feel a pull in her direction. 

she walked towards the door but stopped for a moment when she was close to where you were standing, looking at you for second, a hint of a smile:

“well, i´ll give it to him, he raised no fool, that´s for sure”, you cracked a small smile too then, not rewarding her with a lot of words though, “thanks, Tess. I´ll keep all that in mind”, that was the first time you ever used her name to address her and it hit a nerve in her, like a wave of electricity running through her at the sound, but she didn´t let it show, instead she briefly patted your shoulder, saying “take care”, and left.

the second she was out on the street again, Tess realized that it was a good idea for her to leave your apartment, because the idea of you being all on your own there, spending entire nights in that dark, empty place, did not leave her cold, at all, and she had no interest in growing too emotionally involved. there was something about you that she had not expected and it was messing with her, it was making her mind spin.

whenever your dad had talked about you, she had pictured someone more like a teenager, but you were anything but that. you were a grown woman, young but clearly marked by the tough life you´d lived, someone she couldn´t just crack with one stern look. you had an air of nonchalance that was hard won; she knew you´d paid a prize to keep up a facade like that. 

a pretty facade, she had to admit, you were undeniably beautiful. Tess was not one for crushes, but she knew an attractive woman when she saw one. you did not dress much differently than the other women she knew, but still, you were so different, your face had a distinct look that got to her: your eyes, your expression, the way you´d looked at her, it all stuck with her, that image of you, sitting there at the kitchen table, backlit by the setting sun: burned into her mind. 

she knew there was no way around it, she´d keep thinking of you, wondering what you were actually thinking, feeling, what you did during those hours at night all on your own, how you managed to work the way you did, what you were hiding, how you managed your grief, whether you cried or not, what you were afraid of, what you did to seem as unafraid as you did. 

most of her days were spent talking to people she didn´t care about one bit, often even actively resented, so sensing the potential of actually caring about a person, and even better, being challenged by their cleverness, it made it impossible for her not to wonder how she might find an excuse to talk to you again. Tess was not heartless, she might have been perceived that way, but she knew, deep down, that it was only a matter of time until she´d give up the i don´t give a fuck attitude for someone who needed her to. and something was telling her, you might be that person.

as she left your apartment, a voice inside her was telling her: 

keep an eye on that girl. she might need someone one of these days, and the others don´t see it.

it was also telling her:

don´t you dare fall for your dead friend´s daughter.

the weeks leading up to that night, you´d done your best to remain numb, nothing had really gotten to you, you´d kept yourself busy or knocked out, but then, one brief visit from Tess and you were shaken up, moved, affected. within ten minutes she´d managed to reach some part of you that you´d kept shut off. something about her presence was both comforting and thrilling. you´d had crushes before, but it was different with her, the word almost too mild and cute to describe the visceral nature of it. once she left your apartment you just sat in your kitchen for about half an hour, quiet, thinking, unable to process what you were feeling. 

that night you dreamed for the first time in ages. you couldn´t recall the details the next morning, but you knew it was about her, and your body was warm in your bed even though the apartment was freezing cold. 

you knew you couldn´t just go to her without a reason, you had too much pride to just admit to her that you wanted more of her company, so you tried to ignore it, but the following week you thought of Tess a lot, so much so that you found yourself perking up whenever anyone around you mentioned her. then, one day, someone came up to you as you were busy dealing with something and told you she´d asked for you, for you to come to her the next morning, something about a job she was involved in. 

you wondered why she would ask for you specifically, but regardless of her reasoning, you were just excited to be able to see her again without even having to initiate it. so, the next morning you made your way to the address you´d been given. you knew your way around, you knew that it was the bottom floor of this abandoned warehouse that people in your line of work often used to meet discretely. 

the second you stepped inside, you saw two women you recognized, two guys, and Tess, sitting around a make shift table out of boxes, various maps and papers spread out over it. Tess locked eyes with you immediately and got up, waving you over to step aside with her for a moment, knowing you´d probably have questions. 

she looked at you, a smile, “thanks for coming” you nodded, “sure no problem. so, what is this?” you asked, crossing your arms, she realized she owed you an explanation, “well. there´s something rather big we have to plan. and what I´ve been hearing from people tells me that you´re one of the brighter ones around”, a grin as she said this, “so, I thought why not ask you to join? couldn´t hurt to have your input”. you were listening, eyes on her face, and something told you that she wasn´t telling the whole truth. 

part of you felt like she might be testing you, wanting to see if everyone was just cutting you some slack and exaggerating your skillset, but you were up for it, “sure, I´ll do what I can”. “alright then” she pulled you by the arm, the brief touch making you feel more than you hoped it would, but even a small squeeze from her hand did something to you. you tried to forget about it as you sat down next to her.

they quickly filled you in. getting people across city limits was nothing new, but it was gonna be about 5 people, which was a lot. the plan needed to be perfect, you needed to make sure that it was all ideal; the time of day, the routes they would take, possible quick escape routes too if trouble came their way, calculating possible run ins with law enforcement, mapping out where they usually stood guard, every detail had to be considered. 

you let the others do most of the talking, only chiming in when you had a correction to make, a better suggestion, or needed to explain why certain things wouldn´t work. you observed most of the time, but the few remarks you made were precise and helpful, you could tell they were glad to have you around, even Tess, who was not easily impressed, nodded in approval multiple times when you said something. at times you could feel her looking at you from the side, even when you weren´t talking and you wondered why; was she concerned? curious? or, maybe, just maybe, did she also find you intriguing?

similarly you also found yourself staring at her kind of in awe whenever she talked, resting your face on your hand, just looking, her voice almost soothing you to a point of spacing out. you tried your best to listen to the words being said, but it wasn´t easy, with her sitting so close to you, her body somehow waking yours up after weeks up feeling dead. 

before you knew it, you´d spent almost the entire day just sitting there, talking, planning, at times stepping away to drink something or stretch your limbs. by the time it got dark, you were done. as the others stood around talking for a while, you already stepped out, catching some air, leaning against the wall of the house, clearing your head for a moment before going home. after a few minutes, you saw the others leaving, waving goodbye, Tess following shortly after, making her way over to you, taking up the empty space next to you. 

at first neither of you talked, both just staring ahead, tired from the day, but then she spoke up, “you were good today”, her voice lower and raspier than at the beginning of the day, getting under skin. you knew that counted as high praise from her, so you smiled, looking at her, “thanks. I guess I passed your test then, huh?” she stared at you, her eyes giving away that you´d caught her off guard with that, it amused you, so you went on “it´s fine, I get it, I wasn´t counting on any nepotism treatment”, she raised her eyebrows then, “smart AND funny, huh?” laced with obvious irony. you shook your head, looking back at the street, she smiled to herself, realizing more and more that she shouldn´t underestimate you, since you kept surprising her, but it was a challenge she was eager to accept: figuring you out. 

“well, I know for a fact he couldn´t have taught you all that. I know enough smart guys whose kids can barely count to five so… it´s definitely not just a family thing”, you appreciated that, she continued, staring up at the sky, leaning her head back against the wall, “to be honest it´s kind of eerie at times, you at your age, talking like that” she admitted, you turned to her then, facing her more directly, “yeah? how so?”, she shrugged, breathing out, “I don´t know. I guess you´re so young, but already so..” you completed the sentence “jaded?”, she laughed then, the sound of it getting to you, “no, no, that´s not what I mean. it´s just, you should be.. more carefree I guess. as much as I hate dealing with stupid mistakes by youngsters, it does feel odd that you´re so fucking composed already”. 

you considered it, you could tell there was genuine sympathy in there and she wasn´t wrong either, it was pretty clear you weren´t exactly out there being young and wild, “well, I guess spending most of my time only talking to and living with a middle aged man did that”.

she nodded, an understanding smile, “right. well, maybe it's time to change that sweetheart, huh?” you couldn´t tell if she was being genuine or fucking with you, you looked her, squinting your eyes, “you know I can´t exactly get in trouble, Tess. not even a little”.

she knew what you meant, “fun” for younger people those days mostly meant breaking into empty buildings, drinking or getting high there, attempting parties, but with your lifestyle, you knew run-ins with FEDRA were to be avoided at all costs, so nothing like that was on the table for you. besides, it wasn´t exactly your idea of fun, you´d rather find someone to spend time with one on one, but you weren´t gonna tell her all that, not in that moment. 

she nodded, “yeah i know. still, there´s gotta be some way for you to have fun, hm?” it sounded slightly suggestive the way she said it, “sure, i´ll find a way, one day”, you kept it vague too, and she left it at that, since she saw that you were shivering from the cold, “come on, let´s go, you´re also headed down there, right?” pointing down the street you both had to take home, “yeah i am”. you followed her, walking close but not too close, wishing you could link arms, warm yourself up against her. for a second Tess almost offered you her jacket, but she realized how romantic that would´ve seemed, and let it go.

you were rarely scared, not even at night, but it did feel nice for a change, to have someone as intimidating and capable as her next to you, it felt good. she looked ahead, seemingly lost in thought, but she could tell you were looking at her from the side, and she almost felt frustrated by how nervous it made her. nothing made her blood rush anymore those days, not fear, not excitement, nothing; she was hardened, so feeling like she might actually flush from feeling you look at her almost irritated her for a moment, something so simple breaking her open, but she liked it, deep down she did.

you walked in silence for about a minute, and it was ironic that you had thought about feeling safe next to her, because out of nowhere a loud bang startled both of you. you stopped in your tracks, your minds racing: was it a gunshot? an explosion? a car crashing into something? it was too far to tell, but close enough to be alarmed. five seconds passed of you two standing there frozen, listening, before gunfire opened nearby. you could hear what sounded like a pretty large group of FEDRA assholes quickly stomping down the street, and within one second Tess had her own gun in her hand, yanking your arm with the other one, instructing with urgency “run!”, not letting go, pulling you down the street. from the look of it she had her eyes on some escape route and she did. 

in that moment it became crystal clear that she had years and years of experience on you, while you were still thinking she had only needed a split second to do the right thing, to think of a way out. by the sound of it they were coming dangerously close, you could hear screaming, shots being fired, the darkness ruptured by car lights, you had very little distance between you and them, and Tess made you run faster than you´d run in ages, never letting go of your hand. she pulled you into a small alley, letting go once you reached a few metal trash cans that she immediately kicked to the side, revealing a small door that lead into the backside of the tall building it belonged to, ripping it open and pushing you inside, before following and banging the door shut behind you.

you were out of breath, trying to think. the room smelled ancient, damp and was completely dark, there was no way of seeing, but you could hear her breathing and cursing under her breath next to you. “jesus fucking christ” you said, “crack-downs usually only happen during the day what is their fucking problem??”. you were pissed, your lungs were stinging. “yeah, get used to it, lately it´s been all the fucking time” by the sound of it she was still hunched over and very out of breath, you couldn´t help but laugh then, “I take it running isn´t one of your hobbies, huh?”. 

she couldn´t see, so she just guessed where you were standing and slapped in that direction, making contact with your stomach for a second, “just you wait til you´re old, see how funny this is then”. you were grinning, “old? Tess, you´re barely over 40”, she shook her head, calming down, resting against the wall then, “how about you quit the comedy and say: thank you Tess for saving me. I´m so grateful you weren´t a deer in headlights like me and dragged my ass to safety”. you mirrored her actions then, you arm hitting hers in the dark, “fuck off, you were just quick as hell”, she took it as a compliment, secretly enjoying the more familiar vibe that was suddenly in the air, “yeah I was, lucky for you”. 

“so, what is this place?” you asked, “little thing I discovered back in the day. as you know this area isn´t exactly the greatest, they love targeting us here so yeah, saved my ass a few times, but it´s been a while”, “cozy.” you said, flatly, “hey, if you wanna go back out there and get your head blown off instead, be my guest” she snapped back, it was funny to you, how easy it was to rile her up.

“I think about an hour and we´ll be fine to leave. things usually die down within that time frame”, “an hour??” you exclaimed, clearly not happy. “yes, an hour. don´t act like you have anywhere else to be, I know you don´t”, “wow okay, rub it in, go ahead”, she smiled then, perhaps she´d exaggerated a little, maybe half an hour would have been fine, maybe she´d subconsciously bought herself more time with you.

“we don´t have to stand here by the way, there´s a ladder somewhere that leads to a hallway and room, go on feel around, it can´t be far”, you started searching for it in the dark, hands reaching into empty space until something would show up, “so I´ll just climb up in total darkness and crack my head open if I miss a step and fall?”, she shook her head “alright, drama queen. if anything I´ll crack my head, you´re going ahead of me, so worst case you´ll fall back onto me”, you smiled then, safe to do so because she couldn´t see, “still, not great”. you found it, “here, come”. you could feel her close behind you while stepping onto the ladder, a few steps up, you could feel her following, her hands on your back then, sending a shiver down your spine that you hoped she didn´t feel.

“go on, i got it” she reassured. it wasn´t far up, a few moments later you could feel a floor, your palms flat against it, pulling yourself up, letting out an audible groan as you tried to get up on your feet from that position, she laughed, “and you of all people had the audacity to make fun of my fitness”, “shut up” you whispered, as you could feel her standing up behind you, reaching for you to make sure you were both far away enough from the ledge, her fingers making your skin feel warmer.

“there´s a lightswitch somewhere here, wait” she slapped the stone wall in random places until a tiny lightbulb above you flickered on, your eyes adjusting for a second. once you could see again, you both realized you´d been holding onto each other´s arms pretty tightly and let go at the same time, seeing each other´s faces, a little flushed, and for a moment you just stared at each other, collecting yourselves, before she looked around, pointing down the small corridor, “come”. you followed, watching her adjust her shirt, her usual half up half down hairstyle somehow even better after it had come undone a little, you tried to snap out of it, but her physicality was drawing all of your attention in.

she pushed the door open, there was some resistance from the old wood but it was no struggle for her; Tess was strong, you knew that of course but actually seeing it like that was something you could get used to. the room was barely bigger than a broom closet but you could both sit on the floor. she slid down the wall, motioning for you to follow. you sat across from each other, knees almost touching.

“oh fuck” she grabbed your hand, you had no idea what was going on until you looked down: your knuckles were bleeding. you´d scraped them but couldn´t even remember how or where, which she took note of, the fact that your body seemed to be so numb that you didn´t even register an injury. “oh..” you said, unfazed, “hold on” Tess said, and before you could stop her she took the hem of her shirt in her hands and pretty violently ripped a part of it off, telling you to hold out your hand before quickly tying the soft fabric around, over your knuckles, the blood getting soaked up by it, “there you go”. you shook your head, “that really wasn´t necessary Tess, you fucked up your shirt for me”, she waved it off, “oh who cares, we can´t have open wounds here”. you looked down at where she´d bandaged you, a sting in your heart: how long had it been since someone had shown you care like that? 

you put your head in your hands then, a sudden throbbing headache. you were usually already asleep in a drug induced haze at that hour and you knew your body was eager to shut down, but you forced yourself awake, rubbing your temples, sitting upright again.

she was observing you, quietly, just looking, “you okay there?”, “yeah yeah, just… long day, that´s all”, she nodded, slowly “right. you wanna stop lying to me any time soon, or no?”.

you met her gaze then, she held it, refusing to let it go, you shrugged “I don´t know what you want me to say, Tess”, whatever she was doing was working, you were not in a position to lie with her that close to you, that attentive, picking up on every little mannerism. 

“how about you start by telling me how you´re actually doing. what you´re doing to cope. because i know it´s not fucking meditation or journaling”, a tired smile from you then, you briefly broke eye contact, thinking about how to put it, before looking back at her.

“I think the answer is so obvious that it flew over your head”, she was confused then, “how so?”, you cocked your head, “come on, Tess. in our business? what does literally everyone do to cope?”. her eyes went wide then, she shook her head, “no. I can tell you´re not on drugs, I know the look”.

“well, i don´t do it during the day…” she looked alarmed, “what the fuck are you telling me?” you felt vulnerable then, having actually put it out there. you were looking at her with pleading eyes, not wanting to say it word for word, hoping she´d catch on. she was louder then, “jesus fucking christ, what kind of drugs?” your voice was quiet, a little defensive, “well, I don´t drink and I don´t smoke. so you do the math.” 

she pressed her hands together, looking at the floor for a moment, she seemed angry, “you´re hooked on pills, that's what you´re saying?”, you shrugged, “I don´t know if hooked is the word I´d use-” she interrupted, her tone hard, unforgiving “that´s exactly what someone who is hooked would say”, you threw your hands up, defeated, “right okay”. 

she tried to calm down a little, “how much?”, you debated lying, but it was clear you were past that, there was no point, so you told her the average amount you took, and the shock on her face didn´t feel great. “are you fucking with me? that could knock out a horse!”, her voice echoed through the empty hall, a moment of silence after, you didn´t feel shame but something related to it, seeing her react that strongly mirrored back to you how serious your situation was. she shook her head for a while, processing, her hand on your knee then, firm as she spoke, “you´re gonna have to stop that. and I mean it. that shit could easily kill you if you don´t”. you didn´t have it in you to fight then, you just looked at her, no words were coming, “oh, so that´s fine with you, yeah?”, you got angry too then.

“hey I didn´t choose this fucking life okay? I did what I could to not go insane, and considering all the nut-jobs i´ve had to deal with, I´d say i´m not doing that bad of a job”, Tess realized then that it wouldn´t help to be accusatory, she let up a little, feeling sympathy for you as she watched you nervously fidget with your clothes.

“he had no clue, did he?” she asked, quietly, you shook your head “no, thank god. he had enough to worry about” she eyed you, something like respect mixed into the obvious concern, “you really know how to keep a secret, don´t you?” she knew it must´ve been years of that habit for it to sound as casual as it did, coming out of your mouth, and it mostly pained her to think of you as a teenager doing all that, but somehow it also impressed her: the fact that nobody ever caught on. 

you didn´t smile then, but your expression became lighter, “yeah, you´re actually the only one who knows now”, that surprised her, touched her a little even, realizing that it must´ve been pretty vulnerable of you to tell her. “really?”, you nodded, “hm yeah. guess you should feel good about yourself, your intuition is still in-tact”, she almost laughed then, “right, that´s a huge consolation, that I was right about you having some fucked up secret”.

you looked at her with clear affection then, your walls had come down and she saw it, returning the look, glad she´d actually gotten somewhere with you. “well, I might have to drag you out at night, to stop all that”, you shook your head “that would not be pretty, I´d be a mess, you´d hate it”, “oh, I´d manage” she said, sounding convinced of it.

you smiled, “thank you, but no”. she got it, you were grown and had to deal with it on your own, still, she hated the idea of leaving you to your own devices. her soft spot for you had only grown softer all day; sitting next to you for hours, listening to your thoughts, your voice, the feeling of your hand as you both ran off, the feeling of you so close in that room, being trusted with something you hadn´t told anyone before. Tess was in deep, and she knew it, she tried hard to let it go, but it was a losing battle. seeing you there, your face half-lit by the weak lightbulb, your knees pulled to your chest, your eyes, tired but beautiful, it gave her the urge to reach out and touch you, make you feel better, but she kept it in, sat there stone-faced, mostly, but you saw something, it was there, her demeanor had shifted. 

for few minutes you just sat there in silence, both lost in thought, resting against the walls, eyes closed. she realized that it might be a good idea to repay you for your honesty, to not let you sit alone in the uncomfortable feeling of having shared something personal, so she spoke up, “listen. I don´t usually talk about this stuff because it´s been ages and I don´t want pity or consolation, but I lost everyone I cared about during the outbreak, truly all of them, and for a good while I thought I´d never survive it. but, here I am. and I am not saying that it´s been easy, not at all, but I did survive it, so. keep that in mind when you feel like it´s all too much.” 

you took in the words. it was rare, for her to speak of her past, you sensed that she might actually be trying to get closer to you, to bond, “I´m really sorry, that must´ve been awful. it probably still is. but you´re stronger than me, Tess, I can´t compare myself to you”. 

she shook her head “no, I´ve just had time to polish the facade, trust me. you should´ve seen me about a decade ago, I was going through it, it was ugly”, you looked at her then, realizing that beneath her tough aura that seemed so effortless, so natural, there was also a lot of pain, a lot of hurt she´d pushed through, sensitivity she kept to herself. 

it felt good, to share the feeling of being softer on the inside than either of you let on. you absentmindedly rested your head on her leg, your body clearly tired from the day, more prone to random acts of affection like that without thinking twice, you didn´t care in that moment, she didn´t either, patting your hand with hers a little, resting it there for a second. 

“you´ll be fine” she declared, you locked eyes with her, “I´ll try”, her hand squeezing yours reassuringly. “trust me, I´ve seen lost causes, that´s not you”, you looked at her then, “yeah, what am I then?”, she smiled, “a salvageable cause” you laughed then, “I´ll take that”.

she was glad to see you loosening up again. it was soothing, the dark confined space, the quiet, the vibe that had settled between you and her, it felt like you were hidden from the world, like you´d been offered a brief moment of peace, without thinking you rested your head on your knees, closing your eyes for a second, Tess watched you, feeling protective over you, her hand resting on your leg that was propped up in her direction. after a while you felt her nudging you.

“I think we should be fine to go now” she said, and you tried to mask the disappointment, wishing you could stay there with her longer, which was a feeling you weren´t alone in. 

she stood first and pulled you up, again, no struggle for her, her hand´s grip on yours too brief, you wished she´d have kept holding it like that. as you both stood there, face to face, a little raw from the personal discussion, something passed between you; the air was charged, both of you felt it, searching the other person´s eyes, your bodies barely an inch apart, but before it could lead anywhere, you both got scared of doing something you´d regret and looked away, acting casual,  or at least trying to. you made your way down to the door, she tentatively opened it, not all the way, gauging the situation outside first, but it was all quiet, so she waved you out.

it was pitch black by then, freezing, a clear night, the full moon illuminating the streets. somehow there was a shared agreement between you and Tess, that what you´d said in that little room would stay in there, almost like a confession booth; the moment you were walking down the street, you were both your usual tough selves again. 

the walk home was wordless, your house was the first you reached, and at first you just stood there, almost shy, both unsure how to say goodnight after spending the entire day together, both thinking things you wouldn´t say.

Tess broke the silence first, “so. I know you´re about as bad as me at accepting help, but I´ll say it one more time: I am here if there´s ever anything I can do for you. and maybe pick up smoking instead of.. you know” a genuine laugh from you then, “okay, good idea. and thank you. for-” you gestured around between you and her, trying to convey gratitude without specifying what exactly for, she got it, “don´t mention it, you´re by far not the worst person to be trapped in a room with” she said with a smug grin, before giving your shoulder a brief squeeze and saying goodnight. as she walked off your gaze fell down to your bandaged knuckles, and something in you told you she wouldn´t have done that for just anyone. at least you hoped so.

that night you didn´t consciously skip the drugs, her asking you to quit was not enough to kill that instinct; you simply forgot. the next morning you couldn´t even remember how you´d undressed, showered, and gotten into bed, you´d been so lost in your thoughts about Tess, that you´d somehow fallen asleep before you could reach for any self-medication. 

you couldn´t help but see the irony, that she´d berated you for the habit and without knowing it actually succeeded in getting you to stop that day, not with her words, but with the deep attraction you felt to her, the way it took over your whole mind and body, no space left for worrying about anything other than when you´d see her again. 

the next few days, nothing much changed. a whole week went by, then another, and nothing in particular was worse than the weeks before, but that was the issue; it was an endless cycle of living the same day. you felt like you were trapped doing the exact same things over and over, nothing to look forward to, nobody to talk to other than people you were involved with for work, it was just sleep and business and suppression of anything unpleasant you were feeling, every day, no moments of peace or laughter or joy, no light at the end of the tunnel. 

one night about a month after you´d last seen Tess, except for a brief nod from across the street a few times, you couldn´t take it anymore. it was late, you were alone in your apartment and the silence was killing you, the loneliness, the same routine, all of it. you had to move and get up, so you stepped outside at 11 pm, knowing there was only one person you could go to. 

you were counting on Tess still being awake at that hour. once you reached her apartment door you were nervous, the second you knocked you felt adrenaline rushing, because you realized you hadn´t even bothered to make up a lie as to why you were there. she opened the door and looked at you with a smile that said and who do we have here?.

the moment Tess laid eyes on you, she could tell you weren´t doing any better than the last time she´d seen you. the light in your eyes had dimmed even more, so she saved the jokes and the teasing, she didn´t demand an explanation, “come in”, relief washed over you as you stepped inside. you followed her down the dark hallway to the living room that was connected to an open kitchen, you took in the room and unsurprisingly it did not give much away about her; decorations were sparse, no posters on the wall, no sentimental photos, but a few candles were burning and the room seemed like a peaceful space.

“sorry, I know it´s late”, you said, slightly self-conscious, aware it might seem odd to just turn up like that, but she turned to look at you as she walked over the the kitchen, clearly unbothered, “oh no, don´t worry, I never sleep before midnight anyway”. it almost felt more humiliating, to be treated with kindness, somehow you didn´t feel deserving of it. 

she saw you standing in the middle of the room, a little timid, so she gestured over to the couch emphatically, “sit.” it sounded more like an order than an invitation, which you liked, her brand of care that always had a subtle touch of dominance to it. 

as you sat down, trying to position your body in a way that would look natural, she came over, bending down to hand you a glass of water, “here, drink”, her voice warm and strong.

she didn´t sit down next to you on the couch, but on the armchair next to it, you almost told her to come and join you but you knew how that would have sounded, so you drank up, set the glass down and faced her. 

she had crossed her legs and was leaning her head on her hand by then, watching you, her hardened face somehow much softer in the candlelight, her eyes shimmering, her hair falling down her face in loose waves, the sight making all your unexpressed feelings for her bubble up. you tried not to just stare at her as she spoke up, “so. couldn´t sleep?”.

you shook your head, leaning back a little, exhaling shakily, looking over at her, “no. not at all”. “hmm” she waited a moment before asking “wanna tell me why?”. you knew you hadn´t come over to lie, so you nodded, “yeah. well, I stopped taking anything like three weeks ago”, she leaned forward then, “that´s good, I´m glad. did anything prompt that, or did you just stop because you wanted to?”. 

she was onto something, and you felt the need to share it, “no, there was a moment. it was pretty dumb actually, one day I just fell, or collapsed I should say, out of nowhere. I know all the side effects but that one had never happened before, and I landed pretty fucking hard”. you were a little shy as you pulled up your shirt to reveal the left side of your ribs, the bruises were faded because it had been a few weeks but the outline was still very much there, faint yellow and green, the way bruises look towards the end of the healing process, the impact had spanned over multiple of your ribs. 

Tess flinched for a second when she saw your skin, a mix of attraction and pain, “jesus…” she whispered, trying to suppress the urge walk over and see it up close, “I´m so sorry, that must´ve hurt like hell”, you nodded, letting your shirt down again, a little embarrassed by the story. she was clearly affected by it, her eyes giving it away, “and let me guess, you didn´t ask for help or stay in bed, did you?”, you just looked at her, wordlessly signaling that she was right of course. 

she changed the way she was sitting then, relaxing her posture again, shaking her head a little, “what are we gonna do with you, hm?” a faint smile, eyeing you the way you eye someone who just fucked something up, but in a way that somehow makes you feel even more softly towards them. 

you continued, nervously running your hand up and down your thigh, “Tess, it´s been awful. really, I can´t sleep anymore. I am awake all the fucking time, it´s horrible.”,

your voice tinged with a sense of hopelessness that alarmed her, she tried to frame it positively for you, “well, then it´s impressive I´d say, that you pushed through for a few weeks already. despite all that”. you considered it “right, yeah I guess. but I feel no better than before. I don´t know Tess, I´m -” your gaze was cast to the floor, you were clearly struggling to find the right words, she encouraged you, “what is it? tell me”, you looked back at her again, “it´s just… is this all there is?” you vaguely gestured around, she cocked her head, “you´ll have to be a little more specific than that, sweetheart”. 

“I mean this life we´re living. of course I wasn´t naive when I was younger, it was obvious I wouldn´t get to live a dream, still, I did have hope for something. but now that I´m in it, it´s so bleak. it´s the same meaningless shit every single day, and I just can´t stomach the fact that this is gonna be my life forever. how in the world have you been doing this for so long? I don´t get it, Tess, it´s fucking killing me” your voice was different than usual, she knew your usual tone: composed, slow, unwavering, but in that moment it was flipped, you sounded panicked, and it hurt, it hurt her to see someone like you in that state, knowing how much it must´ve taken to break you down like that. 

she waited for a moment, but she just couldn´t stay in her seat any longer, so she got up and sat down next to you, speaking quietly, softly, “listen. I get what you´re saying, and I won´t deny it, it gets dark times, it definitely does, but you´re in a particularly rough spot right now, and it will not be this level of awful forever. trust me, I´d know.” 

you looked up at her then, adjusting your posture to face her properly. Tess was many things, but she was not a liar, so you tried your best to really absorb what she´d said, to internalize it. “okay. I do believe you” she nodded, glad you were receptive to her comfort, her gaze fell to your left hand then, a few leftover bruises from the fall were also visible there. instinctively, without thinking twice,  she reached out, her fingers ever so lightly running over the discolored skin, the sudden tenderness almost made you cry, she kept looking at your hand, kept holding it, “why didn´t you come to me earlier?” a genuine question. 

you were so focused on how good it felt to be touched by her that it took you a second to answer, “I don´t know. what could you have done?”, she almost laughed then, “use your imagination, the things anyone with half a heart would do for an injured person: be nice, make some tea, maybe if I was feeling really crazy even offer a hug” you smiled then, “right. that does sound good”, “yeah, too bad you´re so strict with that suffering in silence vow you took”, you regained some humor then, “well if I wasn´t, I might have shown up here like this many times already so. careful what you wish for” she grinned then, “and you think I would´ve found that horrible, yeah?” you shrugged, “I don´t know, you tell me”.

she shook her head, amused by your refusal to see that she would pretty much drop anything to help you at any given time, “I don´t do charity, sweetie. when I say I´m here for someone, I mean it” you squeezed her hand then, realizing she´d been holding onto yours for the past minute or so. you were both looking at each other, feeling each other´s leg because you were sitting so close, faces not far apart, not at all, and something shifted in a split second. it had been a while since either of you had been with someone, but in that moment it was like your bodies were simultaneously remembering what desire feels like, more intensely than ever before, and you both saw it in the other person, mirrored back. 

Tess was the first to move, she put her hand to your cheek, her thumb almost brushing over your lips, her gaze wandering over every part of your face, your breathing heavier instantly, you looked at her with pleading eyes, but she had given you that physical cue to make the decision yours. you saw her waiting, hoping, and gave in, hand on the side of her face, fingers in her hair, pulling her in for a kiss, harder than you intended, impatient, your lips warm against hers, your body immediately leaning in as close as possible, it took Tess one second to react, but the moment she felt you kissing her with that deep eagerness, it hit her: oh. this girl really wants me.

so she grabbed you with both hands and deepened the kiss, letting you climb onto her, holding you in place as you both abandoned restraint and hungrily kissed each other over and over until you felt your tongue against hers and slowed it down a little to savor it, softly moaning into her mouth, hearing her sounds mix with yours, turning each other on even more, her hands going lower and lower on your body, stopping at your waist, your back, her grip on you almost as arousing as the kiss, your whole body melting into her touch, the tension thick and heavy, your bodies almost overheating. your movements were desperate, your sounds too, everything about it was, it truly seemed like no amount of closeness was close enough, like you were so starved you might actually devour each other. 

she could feel you pushing up against her while you kissed, and as you both caught your breaths for a moment, she could tell you needed more from her, it was not the time for anything that would take too long, not in that moment, but she knew she could help you relax, release some tension, and as if you could read her mind she could hear you begging “please Tess”, your face close to hers, a shiver as she heard the neediness in your voice, luckily clothes were pretty loose, no need to fumble with a zipper or undress, she had no trouble just slipping her hand under the fabric, down to your underwear, she could hear you take a sharp breath in.

 “I got you” she reassured, “let me make you feel good, okay?”, you leaned back into the couch as she pushed you back with one arm and moved herself to an angle that would work, your legs apart then, her hand grazing your cunt through the soaked fabric.

she breathed even heavier then, feeling the effect she had on you, her fingers cold against the heat of your core, the contrast making you dizzy for a moment, shaking slightly, already sighing just from that, she cooed at you “it´s okay” as her fingers made direct contact with your cunt, her fingers sliding between your aroused lips, a moan almost leaving her as she felt your juices covering her skin, slick with it within one second, hearing you whine a little as she moved her fingers up and down, not even thinking about your pleasure for a second but her own, the thrill of having a pretty girl claim her in that sense, covering her in wetness, already fantasizing about getting her whole face up in it, tasting you. 

the thought pushed her to add more pressure to her movements, the passion taking her over, fully, moving her fingers to your clit then, sensing it was the right thing because you were louder then, shaking almost, clinging to her, “fuck…don´t stop, please” tumbled out of your mouth as she drew circles over the sensitive spot, she felt your hips pushing upwards, her eyes back on your face then, watching you come undone, her chest swelling with the pleasure of knowing it was her doing: your eyes shut, your lips parted. “you´re so fucking pretty” she whispered while feeling your cunt practically dripping onto her hand, the words pushing you towards your orgasm even faster, she could tell you were close, so she leaned down a little, facing you, pinning you to the couch as she kept teasing your clit.

the thing that got you more turned on than you ever remembered being, was the her movements were not erratic or too fast, but secure and skilled, hard but not aggressive, a slow sensuality to it that was so powerful that you whole body burned with the sensation, “fuck, I´m-” you couldn´t even from the whole sentence but she knew what you were trying to say, “just let go sweetie, cum for me”, encouraging you to cum against her hand, which you did, a violent shudder going through you as you arched up against her hand one last time, and what killed you then was the even as you came down from the climax, she was still watching you, still touching you, so drunk on the feeling of your cum all over her fingers that she just couldn´t let go before you were truly finished.

you slumped back against the couch as she got up from on top of you and sat down next to you, also a little spent, leaning back. once you were coherent again, you looked over at her, exhausted but face glowing, she turned to face you, pleased to see you smile, “god that felt good..” you said, still high on endorphins, resting your hand on her leg, she laced her fingers between yours, “yeah. it did”, making sure you knew that got just as much out of it.

“did you call me pretty or did I imagine that?” you asked, smiling at her, she grinned, realizing that you were the type to really crave praise but not ask for it explicitly, “I´ll say it again, you´re very pretty”, her voice low and sultry, a satisfied look to you. she just said what she was thinking before she could change her mind, “do you wanna stay here tonight? you can sleep over if you want, it´s late” you sat upright then, moving over to her side of the couch, getting up in her space again, hand on her chest, “yeah I´d like that”, an enthusiasm to your expression that made her happy, “okay good. we´ll have to share a blanket though” she said, you laughed then, “I can handle that I think”.

you´d already showered and changed into comfortable clothes before you came over, so she told you to just get comfortable on whatever side of the bed you wanted, while she´d go freshen up. her bedroom was similar to her living room, minimal decor, but comfortable, warm, a few of her clothes over a chair in the corner, a wooden bedside table with a few books, a small lamp, a lighter, a candle, the bedspread a soft creme color, the window half concealed by dark curtains. it somehow smelled like her, slightly fresh, slightly woody, a hint of musk in there too. at first you didn´t even want to touch anything, feeling like a kind of intruder, but the second you sat down on the right side of the bed it was too soft and relaxing not to give in and get comfortable. 

you were leaned against the headboard, still high on the feeling of her all over you, taking the room in, stretching your legs out, your hands running over the fabric of the sheets.

a few minutes later Tess she came into the room, her hair slightly damp, face fresh and glowing, dressed in a t-shirt and underwear. you were glad to see that she was already fine with you seeing her like that, even though you hadn´t seen her naked yet. 

your gaze wandered to her strong thighs as she walked over to her wardrobe and got out a pair of sweatpants, she smiled to herself, feeling your attention even though she had her back turned to you, “you´re staring” she said, her voice giving away that she enjoyed it, “I know” you responded, which made her laugh and turn around to look at you.

you didn´t even bother to pretend, you were still clearly checking her out as she got dressed, “I think I deserve something in return for that” she said as she walked over to her side of the bed and got onto the covers with you, eyeing you from the side, “yeah like what?”, she smiled, pulling you closer in one swift motion, her hand finding the bare skin of your thighs under the fabric, squeezing a little, just taking in the feeling of your soft skin, you were face to face, and your grin gave away that she could do pretty much whatever she wanted to you, “if you want me to undress I can do that you know”, you teased, she shook her head, “no, this is good, I like having something to look forward to”, that was the charming way of putting it, Tess also could´ve said we can´t fuck right now because we´re both tired and I´ll need the first time of getting a taste of you to last as long as possible. 

you blushed a little then, your hand in her hair, taking in the sight of her outside of her usual guarded physicality, all sweet and affectionate, relaxed, hand under her shirt, on her back, it was surprising to you, that nothing you did, no amount of touching her, seemed to be too much at all, even though she was not a hugger, not a person for handshakes even, so it made you feel free in your greediness for her.

 you spent a short while just laying there, half entwined, the sleepiness adding to the slow tenderness of the moment, she seemed mesmerized as her hand wandered further up your body, pushing your shirt up a little to trace your side with her fingers, you leaned in to kiss her, pulling her closer by the neck, Tess pulling your lower side close hers with the grip she had on your waist. you were dizzy from the warm sensation of her lips, her skin, your leg over hers, the way she immediately kissed you back with a need she couldn´t hide, eliciting a few low sounds of pleasure from you, you only parted once you both needed air, “come on” she said, she motioned for you to get under the covers with her, the room a little too cold to stay like that for long.

the moment you were under the blanket a shyness returned, the intimacy of truly being in bed with her like that suddenly making you hesitant to move, which she saw, and it amused her, that this girl who had no issue firing a gun, beating people up if needed, dealing godless amounts of drugs, suddenly seemed unable to just take up the personal space of a woman who was very clearly into her. the contrast charmed her, made her realize that she had a good amount of power over you but the good kind, the kind that allowed her to make you feel safe, free to show your more vulnerable self for once.

she smiled at you, “so, you wanna stay on your side or?...” 

you realized she was teasing a little, sensing your apprehension, it made you remember there was no need to be hesitant at all, so you shook your head, smiling back at her, “well come here then”. she opened her arms, gesturing for you to lay down on her however you wanted, which you did. you moved over and it felt so natural, to just lay your head on her chest and rest your arm on her stomach, everything about it felt like you´d done it before, the way Tess´s hand immediately found its way to your hair, running her fingers through it, softly, the repeated rhythm of it immediately putting you at ease, the feeling of your face against her chest reminding her how much she´d craved it all along, to feel useful, needed, to feel like her presence was actually making a difference to someone who deserved it. 

“that feels nice” you whispered, your voice sleepy at that point, your body slack against hers, she ruffled your hair a little, feeling you lean into her hand, moving it down to caress your cheek, both of you slowly dozing off, so she reached over and switched off the small light that was still on, letting you stay on top of her, soothed by your weight on top of her. usually she had a hard time falling asleep, but it was impossible to stay awake any longer, you were both too comfortable.

when you woke up a few hours later in the dead of night, you realized that you´d moved over to your own side in your sleep, and when you realized that you were too awake to drift off again, you rolled over to watch Tess, who was sort of facing you in her sleep. she looked graceful, her mouth was closed, her cheeks were a little flushed, her hair spread out over the pillow, you just laid there admiring her.

she stirred a few moments later but you couldn´t be bothered to turn away and pretend you weren´t looking, so when she opened her eyes a little, you heard her say in a raspy quiet voice “are you watching me sleep?”, you smiled, “maybe”, she shook her head a little, clearly still half asleep, you added “you´re a pretty sleeper”, a sly grin on your face, “you don´t have to suck up to me, I already like you”, Tess uttered, witty even while she wasn´t fully conscious, you protested, “I mean it”, she had her eyes closed but spoke again, “that´s very charming but you should sleep instead”, “I tried” you said. 

the liminal quality of that moment, the almost dreamlike air, made it easy for Tess to have no issue doing what she did next: she tapped you on the side of your body that was facing her “turn around”, telling you to get on your side and face away from her, “let´s try this”, she said, pulling you closer by wrapping her arm around you and getting into a big spoon type position, her chest pressed against your back then, her arm around your waist, and she was right to guess that it would help, her warmth immediately made your eyes feel heavy again, the sensation too good not to just melt into and lose yourself in. you put your hand over hers, and within about ten minutes you were both sound asleep again.

the next morning, it took you a moment to come to your senses and realize where you were, but the second you did, an unfamiliar thing happened: you were flooded with joy instead of dread. usually mornings were your least favorite part of the day, the things you had to do looming ahead of you, but as you saw the sun coming into Tess´s room, you felt at peace, content. the space next to you was empty and you could hear Tess moving around in the kitchen, so you got up, went to the bathroom to splash some water on your face, and walked to the kitchen. since you weren´t wearing shoes she didn´t hear you come in, so you just stood there watching her from across the room, smiling, until she turned around, “well, hello there” she said, unable to hide the obvious pure joy she felt at seeing you. 

it had been a long time since Tess had dated or even hooked up with anyone, let alone let someone stay over, so every little detail of being with you gave her a rush, the sight of you leaning against the wall with your face still a little scrunched up from sleep was enough to make her feel warm all over, so she was almost scared of what it would feel like once you´d actually do something explicitly romantic for her. somehow you both knew it without saying, that you were about to spend a lot of time together, that you were both in need of much more than just one night. Tess wasn´t thinking as far as being your girlfriend yet, but part of her hoped, part of her did love the idea of finally being devoted to someone the way she always wanted to be.

she waved you over to where she was standing, setting a cup of coffee down on the counter, “perfect timing, I just got done with this” she put down some sugar too in case you wanted it. you approached her, almost a little shy, knowing she was seeing you in a rather personal light then, having barely been awake for more than five minutes, but she was clearly enamored by it. you gratefully took the cup and warmed your hands against it, taking a sip, leaning against over counter, looking at her, feeling her gaze on you the entire time. it was almost too good to be true, normally your entire day was spent in a haze where nobody could reach you, and there she was, disrupting it, again and again, making you come back to life just by being there.

“you could have woken me up, you know” you said, but she just shook her head, “no fucking way, I was glad you were sleeping so well” a grin that gave away she knew it was partly thanks to her, you nodded, your face muscles almost hurting from having been frozen in a permanent smile for the past few minutes, “yeah I do feel much better than yesterday. I wonder why that is” you said while taking her hand.

she tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, eyeing you, “is there anything you need to do today?” she asked, praying the answer was no, you shook your head, “no, nothing until Monday. you?” hoping for the same answer, she thought for a moment “well, nothing I couldn´t put off for a day or two” a faint smile, you got up then, walking over to her, putting your arms around her neck,“put it off then” you said, before leaning in to tenderly kiss her cheek, her neck, whispering against her skin “please stay here Tess. please”, your voice dripping with sweetness, her breathing changed as she felt you all over her skin, she thought of course this girl is clever enough to know what begging does to me, her hands on your back then, under your shirt, “okay, I´m not going anywhere” she said, and of course she wouldn´t, she already knew that before your act of persuasion, but she liked seeing you try to convince her.

“I think we should go back to bed” you declared, staring at her, a boldness that came out of nowhere but felt exactly right, she grinned, her hands on your waist, pulling you close, “you think so, yeah?”, you just looked at her, words were unnecessary, your hunger for her apparent in your gaze, Tess felt her face growing hot. it was one thing that you´d wanted her when you were weak and exhausted and needed comfort, it was another that you also wanted her when you were well rested and fine and could´ve thought of other things to start your day with, but apparently still only had her on your mind. “let´s get you out of these then, hm” she said, tugging at your clothes, your eyes sparkling up at her before she took your hand and lead you back to her room.

as she pulled off your shirt and started kissing your chest, you had that same feeling again that you´d had years ago: despite all the pain, the darkness that had seeped into your life at times, you knew in that moment how lucky you were that someone like Tess had paid attention to you in exact right moment, that she did not just help you, but made you come alive again. 

finally, you found yourself not wanting to escape your body anymore, finally you were happy to be fully present, trying your best to soak up every little detail, the feeling of the sun spilling in, of being undressed by Tess, being admired, held by her.

it seemed like divine intervention to you, that Tess had come into your life right when you needed her the most. 

[zutarasbuff]

My connection with Zuko & Zutara

I’ve always been so passionate about Zuko and the way his character has layers of complexity within the show. It is said that art inspires life. People often accuse Zuko stans of “having a lustful attitude toward a fictional character as the girls simply want him for his looks”. I believe it’s not the case. This is something I have always kept in my heart.

My reasons for being a part of the Zuko fandom are not just based on the show but on a personal level as well. Zuko helped me in coping with some of my worst nightmares, the trials that I believe were the hardest. One of my friends mocked my idea of Zuko as being too much obsessed with a fictional character. According to her, this was not normal and I should have gone to a therapist but I have seen the real world. I have seen how cruel the reality is, and in those moments it was his character that provided me comfort and strength.

Back when I was a child, I watched the season first and fell in love with the concept of “bending”. Honestly, at that time, I hated Zuko because of his mad hunt for Aang and the gang. I always wanted him to fail because, in my eyes, it was always Aang who was going to save the day (being the hero). As I grew up, I watched the season again and this time I looked at Zuko from a different perspective. It was something that I now noticed. I noticed how similar Zuko was to me because both of us had experienced the absence of our mothers in a very young age and this kept the trauma alive throughout our lives. In the show, we find that Zuko was emotionally abused by his father to be someone he didn’t want to be. I had gone through the same experience when I was always considered “not good enough as a daughter” no matter what I did to please my father.

Just like Zuko, I always had questions in my mind why did my mother leave me and where she was at the moment? Just like him it also turned me into a bitter person, a person who had a hard time trusting someone with all their heart. I looked at him and his struggle. Zuko is always ridiculed for his quest to “redeem his honor”, but the truth is if you have ever walked in his shoes, you will be able to find out that all he wanted was to be loved and accepted by his father because he had an absent parent. It is natural for a child to want the attention of a parent especially when one of the parents is absent. He did everything for Ozai. Just the way I made my career choices based on Papa’s willingness. I felt a strange connection with Zuko because both of us were the same. You will find that the hard shell of Zuko starts breaking when someone shows the slightest concern of care or love toward him. This is the sole reason why Zuko always pretends to be a cruel guy because he’s broken on the inside. He doesn’t want to give someone a chance to play with his emotions and make him vulnerable again because he knows the cost of it from his traumatic past.

This is how broken people are. I have gone through the same phase and in doing so I believe I must have hurt people who were kind like Mai and Uncle Iroh were to Zuko. It’s because people like us are afraid of falling in love and showing the slightest traces of weakness. We act strong because we have fought our demons hard. We are afraid of turning out to be the horrible version of our parents. Even Zuko kept on fearing that he might turn up to be like Ozai after being the Firelord. It’s because all his trauma, his hurt, his unspoken emotions, and his pain were still there and he knew it wouldn’t change.

As a lover, we find that he tries to save Mai from being blamed as the girlfriend of a banished prince, and for this reason, he breaks up but never forgets to care about her. As a person, who was broken in more than one way, I have done the same in the past. I built my walls so high so that no one could get hurt by my harshness, and my demons but even after that I never forgot to care for the people who were significant to me, because people like us know the consequences of inflicting hurt upon someone very well. Zuko to me is the guy who if was real would have understood me and people like me.

I know it might seem a bit bizarre to several people here, but I think I love this fictional person from the core of my heart because I know his traumas, his pain, and his hurt. It’s not easy to pretend that you are fine when you are clearly not okay. I love him because I believe that he would be the only person in the world who had an idea of my heart and traumas. When I ship him with Katara, I have this idea in my mind that she is the other person who lost her mother had issues with her father, and pretended to be happy despite all that she went through. Maybe it comes off as a selfish declaration but as a person who has gone through worse in life, somewhere in Katara I see a version of myself who is angry, hurt, and still feels safe with someone like him. I wish if a parallel world existed, both of them could end up together there, and get all the happiness they have always deserved.

[yuseirra]

This really bugs me, I don't understand why people would want hikaru to interact with taiki. Would you do the same if something similar happened to Ai? Why would he have to? What he's gone through is terrifying, just because the character isn't aggressive about it doesn't mean they aren't traumatized, maybe some can be 'okay' about meeting their children born that way and form a lovely relationship, that's admirable and incredible of them, but I don't think people are obliged to do so. Rather, I think he's already done quite well by refraining from showing any hostility towards Taiki. That's more than enough. If you think about it, that's also what's let him feel he isn't worth Ai's love and it's what he thought was the reason she left him.

He was seriously too, extremely young and didn't have any say in the matter. He's a pure victim in that situation. I feel it's something other people cannot and should not say anything about the matter. We clearly see the character in so much pain when he's reminded of it, it broke him once, it's actually what's led to a lot of disaster that's happened onwards so why? I can't really tell if people can't see the severity of the situation or I'm overreacting over a fictional material but I feel people may have been way more careful on approaching it if it was Ai that was going through the same thing(I'm so glad she isn't by the way and she loves her children and who she had them with)

I don't need those two to interact in order for this to be a good story. Actually, I'm getting worried that they might after having received a few inquiries, it's something that's never crossed my head but I'm starting to think it's maybe what some people want? But it's terrible... What happened is frightening. It's not a subject I can discuss with passion... The comic shouldn't, either.

+ To add, I'm making it clear that there could also be people born from such relationships, it's never their fault and they deserve a happy life as much as anyone else on the planet. It's neither of their fault, the situation is just something that can be very painful and you can't assume people will be so okay and accepting about it. It's something that's very challenging to feel that way about and it's okay if they cannot cope.

++one more thing, I appreciate that this manga DIDN'T make what he's gone through define him as a character(make him a woman-hater/a serial killer to avenge on women etc) if that's what happened, I'd have been so frustrated and moreover, it would have felt disrespectful for people who've gone through similar experiences in their life. That sort of thing is not a "simple device" and should be handled well if it has to. He's working for what he thinks is for his love and regardless of whether he's good or bad, he's his own person. That sort of experience is what struck him and what he had to endure, but it's not supposed to be THE thing that everything about that character should be built upon. It would be so rude for people to assume people in real-life would be that way, and this manga handles psychology in a realistic way so I end up having a pretty serious approach on this too. I feel they're doing decent in that area. So I believe the author will keep illustrating that part of the story well, as painful as it can get sometimes..

[bunniesnuggie]

ethan landry as a caregiver

ethan landry x hyper fem little!reader

summary: just some headcanons of our favorite nerd as a first time caregiver 💕

*this is a non-ghostface au, he’s alive and not a stabby boy 👍🏻💗

*not proofed*

quick lil heads up - i’ve literally never seen scream 6… and have no idea who anyone is except ethan so, keep that in mind. but i still have been kinda obsessed with him lately :3

♡finds out by coming home early from class and finding you fully regressed in his dorm

he’s so cute; he didn’t even know anything was “wrong” at first. just enjoying the sight of his adorable girlfriend laying on his bed in his shirt cuddling the build a bears you made for each other, watching barbie movies. that is, until you yelped and leaped off the bed, and literally started crying. traumatized him ™️

♡ himbo DID NOT understand,

he will never EVER judge you. but did have to do research b4 fully getting it, like cutiepie was reading phyc books during his classes and reading different posts online 💕but didn’t say anything abt it to you tho. just kinda became a mama bear one day 😭 he does ask you lots of questions when your big tho

♡ once he does get it tho…. OH BOY

he had no idea he would love taking care of someone so much, this is both of your guys first relationships. everything is new, this is no different to him than learning your favorite things or how you like to be comforted. he knows this is simply coping for you, and he would do anything for you. so helping you heal you inner child is nothing out of the question

♡ soft casual dominance is kinda already his thing, so it comes naturally

so he’s used to tying you shoes for you, holding your hand out in public, he’ll order you food and talk to strangers for you. so when he does become your caregiver, the dynamic in public isn’t really that different 🫶🏻

♡ bathtime, playtime, naps!!!

he loves spending time with you while your regressed!! he colors with you and totally plays dolls or dress up. he’s very pretty and loves when you tell him so while putting clips in his hair☺️

♡ lego bf!

literally buys you sm lego sets, easier ones like duplo for when ur smaller and the more complex “adult” ones for date night :}

♡ he also gets vv invested in your shows and stuffies lives

“he did WHAT?!? why would he do that, can’t he tell that is not Ariel????? i mean her hair isn’t even RED!!!” 🤬🤬 becomes an angry boi. he totally spills the tea with ur stuffies during tea parties😗

♡ makes sure you guys go on “little” dates at least twice a month

you guys are basically attached at the hip, young love and all, so dates are frequent. but when he became ur caregiver, he wanted to make sure you knew he wanted to do this and be there for you 1000%. he also wanted to help you with regressing regularly to help you cope with stress. you once told him that you hadn’t regressed once in like 5 months and it was not fun when you finally did, he learned abt “improper” regression that night and never wanted to let it happen to you again 🥹

♡ embodies spider-man!bf energy

he LOVES the hellokitty!gf x spider-man!bf trends. he literally thinks it was made for you guys nerd. makes you bracelets that say bunny and daddy on it, his is red a blue and urs is pink and white, awe💕💕lowkey feel like he’d dress up as spider-man for halloween too

♡ speaking of nicknames, say good bye to ur real name

even before he found out you were a little, it was always sweetheart, bunny, angel, pretty girl, baby, princess etc that boy loves you so much and he shows it. after though he added in little one, babybug, tiny, dolly…anything that makes you feel especially small

♡ literally always carrying you

this man is 6’2, he makes chad look small he towers over you and absolutely loves it. so he takes advantage of it when he can, piggyback rides are a common occurrence. he loves just holding you in his lap, seeing ur tiny body take up such little space and fit perfectly on him, makes him 🫠

♡ is SO SOO protective

people take him for granted, thinking he’s just some sweet, docile nerd who loves econ. and while that is true, bby can kick butt and will for you. he doesn’t let anyone near you while regressed, heck or even see pictures of you regressed. that is your safe space. he will be damned if he lets anyone taint it. he also asked of you would be ok with him monitoring you socials while small, especially if you have agere accounts. he does not take anon hate lightly and will not tolerate any nsfw accounts trying to interact with you

♡ he just loves you so much and wants u to always be happy

like i said he will do absolutely anything for you, that boy loves you more than anything in the world. he shows it to you every day, whether that be in big space by showering you with kisses and complements, showing you off in public with an uncomfy amount of pda. or in the comfort of your room, surrounded by stuffies and coloring books while your dada reads you a story 💗

a/n: ahhhh i’m back!!!! sorry it’s literally been like….a year��i haven’t regressed in a very very long time and just haven’t had motivation to post :( i’ve also been obsessed with new ppl so i’ve been writhing non-eddie stuff lately :3 anywho here’s a lil smth smth and hopefully i’ll be posting a bit again. i want to write abt barry from obx but idk if anyone would care or read it 😭😭might just draft that one for me lol. i’ve also got a lot of requests and wips to finish so it’s just up to me to write them 🫠😭

*i’ll be updating my character list to included the new ppl i want to write about!!!

tag list//

@bootlegmothman420 @angelbaby-fics @lil- -baby- -bat @stardancerluv @lulubooboo @albino-otaku @xxghostie-ghoulxx @stuckysgirl27 @sunshinee-bear

[fantasylandloser]

Cupid

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x woc!reader

Summary: idfk Daryl + apocalypse + love

Warnings: canon typical violence, injury to reader, lots of hurt comfort, angst, nno specific plot

A/N: I just started watching twd and everybodys so attractive and traumatized, I don't know what to do with myself. Anyway enjoy, or don't.

******

When you first met Daryl, you very quickly learned to be cautious of him and his brother. The color of your skin caused unnecessary distress to the eldest brother, and he made sure everyone else was aware of this problem if he was in the mood.

You were tactful about avoiding him for the most part. Until Merle was missing. You weren’t particularly sad about it. You surely wouldn’t miss him, then you began to notice Daryl without worrying his brother was behind him. 

He was quiet, withdrawn, helpful, kind in his own way. He was many things, maybe even a good man. The first time you found yourself around him on purpose, you’d been spooked. You ran to the first person you saw, which was Daryl and he pushed you behind him. You hardly realized the way you gripped onto him when he held up his bow an arrow to shoot the walker. Your heart was beating so loudly that when he told you ‘it’s dead now’ you barely heard him. And you didn’t get to thank him before Carol pulled you away. 

The next day Daryl found ten perfectly carved wooden arrows outside his tent. He knew it was you. He never told you thank you though, he didn’t know how. 

The next time he goes through a bunch of arrows again he finds more outside his tent, probably twenty, they’re perfect, each of them. He hates them. He doesn’t understand them. Which is why you find them thrown back at your feet, when he finds you at the creek washing clothes. 

“I can carve my own arrows.” You look taken back slightly, but nod nonetheless. 

“I’m aware.” You say trying your best to appear unruffled, but you were also well aware others were watching the two of you. 

“You don’t need to be wastin’ your time makin’ these.” He nods to them. Then looks away from you when he sees your look of disappointment. 

“I understand. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Your reply is so soft he barely hears you, and he knows he’s a dick by how gutted you sound , but he can’t bring himself to pick the arrows back up so he just walks away. 

You stay away from him again after that. Only near him when the group is all together, never making eye contact or standing too close. 

*****

The next memorable interaction between Daryl and you is when Andrea shoots him. It was the most reckless thing you’d ever seen in your opinion, and you didn’t have a problem telling her so, much to the shock of the rest of the camp. You couldn’t help being so mad though, you’d finally found safety on the farm and you were a little upset to have it compromised. No other reason. 

Someone must have told him when he woke up because when you pass by his tent for the tenth time in an hour, he calls you in. It’s awkward considering how little the two of you have spoken. He doesn’t ask you for anything, even though you offer plenty. He just reaches into his back pocket, hands you a sharp knife with an impeccable blade, tells you that he found it while he was in the woods and figured you’d have use for it. 

He asks you to show him the technique you used when you carved his arrows. His way of apologizing you think. You tell him there wasn't a technique, but you let him watch you carve one and he realizes you’re so into it you don't recognize the method to your own madness, you’re just using it to cope, to create. 

After that  day he lets you carve his arrows, sometimes sitting with you while you do it. The two of you didn’t do much talking but you both appreciated the company. 

******

“Raise your arm more.” Daryl tells you. You huff slightly not annoyed, just frustrated. 

“It’s heavy.” You complain.

“You made it.” He counters, squatting beside you. 

“Not for me.” You murmur. He sighs and takes the crossbow from you. Something you made mostly of wood and spare parts you found around the camp. It was really badass in Daryl’s opinions but for whatever girly reason you were embarrassed. 

He had found it when he was looking for you, put away the best you could in your tent, but still it caught his eye. He wasn’t snooping, as you said he was. 

Daryl can’t help but admire it, but that’s all he does. He won’t accept it as a gift, not something you put so much work into, so he offered to teach you how to use it instead. You regretted saying yes to that as your shoulder ached.

“Just somethin’ you gotta learn how to do now.” Is all he can offer, you only sigh while stretching your arms once more before taking the crossbow back from him. 

“Hold up” You still, but you keep your arm lifted. You let him move the strands of curly hair out your face, some of them falling back to exactly where they were. 

‘Alright now you can actually see the target.” You scoff, seeing how pleased he is with himself, but can’t help the amused smile that lights up your face. 

“I hate you.” You say, with no bite behind it, but you can actually see the target now. You don’t hit it on the first ten tries, but when you finally do, you smile in triumph, pleased with yourself. You allow yourself that joy for a few seconds, you’ve forgotten Daryl at this point. Because you reload without so much as looking back at him and continue on until the sun is no longer in the sky. For a reason unknown to Daryl, this blooms a feeling of pride in his chest. 

******

Sometimes you found yourself watching Daryl's arms. It wasn’t something you did purposefully, he’d be showing something to you and your eyes would just wander. It was a stupid habit that only caused you more trouble than you needed. 

“Are you listenin’ to me?” No you were not. 

“No.” Your cheeks heat up at your admission, your eyes finally making their way back up to his. “I’m sorry.” You catch the amused glint in his eyes and you know you were caught.

“It’s alright, we'll pick back up-” Daryl’s name is called before he can finish speaking. Shane and Rick nod him over and he gives you a quick look before walking over. They leave to make a run an hour later. 

Everytime Daryl leaves you watch for him, waiting for him to get back. You wish you didn’t, but you couldn’t do anything else with him gone, too scared, too nervous. That’s how you end up in such a stupid accident. Falling off the roof of the RV had to be the most embarrassing thing you’d ever done, and stupid. You probably would have been able to just get up and dust yourself off with a few scratches and possibly some sore muscles if you hadn’t landed right on an arrow you’d carved while you waited. 

You don’t cry out surprisingly, it’s probably shock. You’re barely aware of your surroundings as Dale and Andrea come from inside and rush you towards the house. You let them push you into the room and lay you on the bed, you let Hershel look at it, but the second he mentions pulling it out you panic, defensively covering it with your hands.

Carol is on the porch waiting for them to get back and they see the panic in her face before she has the chance to say anything. And Daryl sees that you aren’t on top of the RV like you usually are when he’s gone and he starts sprinting towards the house, the others are a close second behind him. 

“No please.” You’re not crying still, but you’re panicked, blocking Hershel from getting to you.

“I just want to help you, but you gotta calm down.” Hershel tells you. You let out a series of no’s while you get out of bed. When Daryl finally makes it to the room and sees the situation, he feels a bit of relief. He’s sure you’re in pain and he hates that, but it’s better you be in pain than dead.

“How the hell did this happen?” Daryl asks, when you hear his voice, your head snaps towards him and you call for him. 

There's a series of voices answering his question, but he ignores them all when Hershel says “She’s delirious, I need you to hold her down.” 

“You gotta lay back down, sweetheart.” Daryl tells you, he walks to you slowly trying not to spook you, He’s never seen you so terrified and he knows the pain must be too much when you're malnourished and sleep deprived and he knows you give most of your rations to Lori. 

“I don’t want them to take it out.” He knows you barely know what you’re saying. But he thinks you’re calming down some as your eyes grow wet. You clutch your side as the pain finally catches up with your senses. 

“Just lay down and let me look at it.” If you weren’t so out of your mind in pain you’d realize that he was lying, but you were. You agree lying back down. Once you do he attempts to lift your shirt, but it’s stuck to the arrow that hasn’t been pulled out. 

He sighs, his arm going around the top of your chest signaling Rick to grab your legs. “Baby, you’re gonna have to let him pull it out.” He sees your panic swell again but grabs your hand before you can do anything. 

“Just breathe, okay.” When Hershel starts to go to work on your wound, you face Daryl’s chest as you quietly cry. “I know, I know.” He soothes. Daryl realizes that he doesn’t think he’s seen you cry often since all of this has started and it makes his chest ache a little. 

When everything calms down after you pass out from the pain, and Hershel stitches up your wound Daryl finds himself sitting there still with his hand in yours. He doesn’t leave your side until your eyes open.

*****

Daryl gently touches your hair while you tell him about your life before infection. Your head is in his lap and he doesn’t even remember climbing into the bed with you. He allows himself the intimacy, says to himself that it’s to comfort you and not at all for him.

He doesn’t know when he started to feel so comfortable with you, but he thinks you have a way about you that would make any man break down his walls. It scares him. He hates it. He thinks you’re cupid, shooting him with arrows, making him love you.

“Were you with anyone before all this started?”  You ask. He only shakes his head. You hum softly, your hands fidgeting with the hand of his that isn’t in your hair. After a while of silence Daryl realizes you fell back asleep, but he can’t bring himself to leave you just yet. 

You’d lost so much blood in the day prior, more blood than he thought was survivable, but Hershel said you were fine. He couldn’t shake this feeling though, he just wanted you to be fine, he didn’t want to be scared. 

When the herd came for the house Daryl felt panic constrict his throat in a new way. Chaos ensued as he looked for you. When he finally found you, you were holding your own with a group of walkers, he would have found the time to be proud if it weren’t for the way his heart was beating. 

By the time you make it to his motorcycle, you killed nearly a dozen with his help. “Hurry the hell up.” He rushes, even though you’re hurrying to the best of your ability. 

****

“Where is she?” Daryl asks as he walks through the prison, he doesn’t get an answer but he doesn’t need one as your head pops out at the sound of his voice. 

He sees the betrayal in your eyes as you look at him, still he gets closer, just wanting to be near you. He starts to say your name, maybe to apologize, you’re not sure, and you don’t care. You shove him away from you. He comes back. 

“You left.” Your voice betrays you, as it quivers. “We needed you here.” 

“He’s my brother.” He tries to explain,

“And what are we?” Your voice rises, and it’s the first time you’ve ever yelled at him. It startles him slightly. “Are we not family?” You ask. “What am I?” Daryl clearly doesn’t have an answer for you. 

“Baby-” He calls when you turn away, ignoring Merle’s presence as you did before. “Give her space.” Carol tells him. “She’ll come around.”

“What the hell did I miss, little brother?” Merle asks, only to be ignored.

When you finally come back from wherever you run off to, you don’t make a sound if Daryl or Merle speak to you. It’s like how it was before Merle left the first cam, except worse in so many ways. 

Daryl just wants you to understand, he doesn’t know how you don’t. He wants to tell you it wasn’t personal, but the words don’t seem right. He works to find the right ones but it’s no matter, they’re aren’t any. 

You’re holding baby ass kicker when he finally gets a moment with you. Everything that happens is usually so public to the group now that you have to stick together, so he knows that everyone knows what you mean to him. It’s unnerving.

“M’sorry.” You pause your actions momentarily before going back to tending to the baby. When you don’t so much as acknowledge him, he goes where you and ass kicker are before getting on his knees willing you to look at him. 

“You gotta talk to me, alright? Even if you just want to yell or scream or hit me, give me somethin’” He pleads, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. You exhale a shaky breath. “I’m sorry I pushed you earlier. Wasn’t right.” Daryl almost scoffs because of course you’re apologizing.

“Deserved it.” He whispers to you, still on his knees in front of you, waiting for your eyes to land on him. You shake your head in disagreement. 

“If you leave again, or something happens…” You pause and Daryl wants to tell you nothing will happen and he won’t leave you but he can’t promise that to be true. “I want you to know that I love you,” You whisper. “It’s all I could think about since you left. How I should have told you- how I might never see you again.” When you finally look at him you see his tears, you know he’s hurting. 

“I’m not trying to make this harder for you, I just wanted you to know.” He nods, holding his face in your lap, trying to gather his emotions. With the hand that’s not holding the baby you stroke his hair gently, allowing him to cry.

[meanbossart]

Hi! I came across your blog recently, and I love the story you created around your Drow character. The art you created for it is truly inspiring! I haven't yet read the story you wrote so forgive me if the question is a bit redundant, but did DU Drow reject Bhaal in your story? And if so, how did he cope with being abandoned and emptied of his essence? I finished this chapter of the game recently and it left a bitter taste in my mouth, because I felt like it might have been a bit traumatic for the Dark Urge char, even though it's presented as the "best choice" for the sake of the story. So I'm very curious to see your take on this, and on what happened to your own character!

Thank you so much for enjoying my work!!! And no worries at all, all the lore about him is scattered around this blog and the fic is over 100k friggin words long. I don't expect anyone but myself to put this mess together at this point LOL

Yes, DU drow rejected Bhaal and had his whole deathly nap that Withers saves you from. His feelings on it at first are both of relief and a (foolish and misguided) confirmation that he's as impervious to harm as he always thought himself to be, lol. This outlook is a little... Tainted as time goes on as he realizes that with clarity of mind comes a lot of feelings that were once completely unfamiliar to him. Also, instead of being totally rid of bloodlust as he might have expected, DU drow realizes that he... Still very much enjoys killing, violence, and is still experiencing intrusive thoughts of harming himself and others. This is something he's conflicted about and must grapple with later, as he both indulges it with glee at times but is also disturbed by it, as he isn't sure if it means he's still subject to any impulses that are beyond his control.

(SPOILERS FOR THE FIC A LITTLE BIT:) But essentially he comes to understand that his brain, while wired to see things through a filter of violence, is indeed completely under his control besides the eventual emotional outburst - this is just who he is, as a person. He's extremely passionate in his relationships and that passion often translates into these aggressive fantasies which he sees a certain beauty in. This has nothing to do with Bhaal, but it is most likely partially a result of the life he led up to this point. DU drow will never be normal, and in truth, he likes that, but there is a shame involved that occasionally creeps up on him and is unlikely to ever go away entirely - I think that's just par for the course, and the very least of consequences that he deserves for once being a genocidal maniac.

I agree with you that I wish there were further consequences to denying Bhaal - but I would rather not get too deep into it because I do plan on addressing that in my story later ;)