#i'm still sad i lost all that progress

[snekdood]

i just struggle to believe theres any ethical way to harvest meat. farm animal dying of old age? yeah. ok. sure. but farm animals aren't going to be perpetually dying of old age enough to fulfill the demand for their meats. you can make better and more convincing arguments to me for ethically harvesting eggs, wool and milk rather than meat.

[fanfic-writer-and-rambler]

Tim Drake paces the ground grumbling: He just- He's so- Frick!

Dick Grayson, looks up from his phone: You're mumbling a lot, what's the problem? Big bro is here to listen.

Tim: It's Jason, he such a jerk! I don't get it. I'm nothing but nice to him and he-

Dick Grayson: Says you bring joy when you leave the room. I... Overheard your argument with him.

Tim shakes angrily: That's not even true!

Dick Grayson: It's not, that's you don't let it get to you. He's always been a bit of a jaded jokester.Abrasiveness is usually how he talks to everyone. He doesn't mean any harm.

Tim, sits next Grayson.

Tim: How do you do it? How do you deal with him and get him to not be a massive prick to you... Most of the time?

Dick: It wasn't easy, he tried to kill me a few times. He never won a fight, let alone made a mark that could injure me horribly, but he tried. I love Jason either way, he's my brother.

Tim, scoffs: Not how he sees us and I do care about Jason. I do, I was sad when he died too. After all the progress he's made though he picks on us like we wronged him. I don't like it.

Tim crosses his arms angrily.

Dick: Hm.

Tim: What?

Dick: Nothing, just thinking... I was distant towards Jason when we first met. Not the same way, but cold at times. I went through my mad at Batman phase.

Tim: Mad at Batman phase? I could never be mad at him.

Dick: You have not gone through that phase yet... That's good. It's when we get incredibly enraged and resentful towards him and want to branch off. Now mine was to become Nightwing-

Tim: Is it true you got that name from a joke

Dick, denying angrily: Lies! It was my idea! Point is, my branching out was becoming Nightwing, Jason's idea was... uh how do I put this?

Tim: Murder all the criminals in Gotham no matter the severity and attempting to kill us because he lost his mind from waking up in a coffin and being tossed into the lazarus pit.

Dick: He only lost a little of his mind and got... better eventually. Although, it wasn't going crazy as much as, pissed off. He did discover he was being used as fertilizer to grow azaleas and then was thrown into a pit and found out Joker was still alive.

Tim: I heard it was roses.

Dick: Azaleas. We're getting off topic. My point is Jason isn't a remorseless villain, he's just who he is after being through a lot. It's not perfect, but he doesn't have to be.

Tim: Villain or not the Jason I stalk- saw on TV like a normal person wasn't like how he is today. That kid was brash, but cool. This version is brash and rude.

Dick, laughing: He's still brash at least. Cool wasn't the word I'd use, more cocky, assertive, a hot head. He's like that now, just the adult version. Oh and he's a good fighter and not too bad with the quips. Let's not forget he's an expert marksman.

Tim: Seriously, you're being nice about him and he isn't even here. After everything he's done... why are you so nice to him?

Dick: Because he deserves kindness. His life was difficult before he met Bruce and then when he became Robin, I could see how strong and confident he was. He was a fighter through and through. I wanted to spend more time with him, but... I was going through my own issues and not just the Batman-hate phase. Then the Joker kidnapped him, Bruce and I searched for him and then...

Dick pauses.

Dick: He died and stayed dead for a couple... years. It's crazy isn't it. He's back now, but for those few years he was... just gone. I wish I could've found him in time, you know?

Tim, pridefully: Then I became the next Robin.

Dick Grayson laughs.

Dick: Yes, then you arrived into the story and a few years later, BOOM, he's alive! Angry, but alive! I thought we could have those years back... Nope. It was a tough few years. He held a lot of resentment towards me. I lost his trust. Which was fair, I couldn't protect him in the worst way possible. He had true anger and distrust towards all of us and to be honest... I get it and I wish we swapped places that night. I was in the building, I got hit with the crowbar and I... died. He... Joker... damn it. I hate thinking about this!

Dick Grayson buries his head in his hands. 

Tim pats him on the back. He spots a figure peeking around the corner with a familiar white patch of hair.

Tim: I want to hear more. You said you wished you switched places, right? Why would you want that?

Dick: I spent eighteen years fighting the Joker, he was a kid. A good fighter and trained by Batman, but... Joker targeted him to take away what Bruce cared about: His family. And for those few years he succeeded. It's an overreaction to say it should've been me, but when he died I felt like these walls were closing in on me. That the little brother who wanted to get to know me, I pushed away most of time. He missed out on so much and when he got brought back he held hatred to us, to the world... I kind of get why. 

Tim: Yeah, but if you were the one who, you know, died Jason would've went through the same grief.

Dick Grayson, sniffles: No, I'm the oldest. I'm the first Robin, it- it should've been me that night-

Jason, leaves his hiding spot: Hey, you can't say that!

Dick: Oh no, how long was he around the corner?

Tim: A few minutes. 

Jason, walks over: Yeah, I heard enough! No, you can't say you'd take a bullet for me because you felt bad for me! I went through it, it sucked, but I would never want any of you to go through what I went through that night... or waking up in a coffin or being pushed into Lazarus pit... or those years of pent up rage and insanity. God no! I lo- lo- love you guys too much! There I said it!

Dick: He said the thing!

Dick cheers and hugs Jason, making the man groan.0

Dick: I never saw this day coming! Unless I actually died. I love you too!

Jason: I should've walked away. Why is this my life?

Tim: New life. Get used to it, you're dealing with the not angry at Batman Dick Grayson.

Jason: I'm aware.

Jason shoves Dick Grayson away. 

Jason: Let me make this super clear- I don't hate either of you. I'm just blunt most of the time, jaded the other times, and cope with jokes all the time and that's how I show I... care about people like you. It's okay. I don't blame any of you anymore, not even Bruce. I'll bring that stuff up to piss him off, but yeah no ill will. 

Dick Grayson cries and attempts to hug Jason again.

Jason, places his arm to push the man away.

Jason: I will punch you in the stomach. I'm not a hugger at times like these!

Tim: Aww, so that means we can do it eventually? Like a sneak attack!

Jason runs off.

Dick Grayson: Catch him!

Tim: On it!

Dick and Tim chase after Jason to hug him as Bruce watches from outside. 

Bruce: I'm happy to have them... they're neat.

[yanderestarangel]

Hey!! I love your work sm and I’d love to request something <3

Can I request a smut with MK1 Kuai Liang where he’s in need of comfort and love after Bi-Han betrayed him and Tomas? Thank you and I hope you have a great day <33

—"𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔" | 𝐊𝐔𝐀𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐆

A/N: Thanks for the request honey, I love writing soft b*tching.

TW: Smut, afab anatomy, vaginal sex, blowjob, no pronouns used other than 'you'.

You and Kuai Liang were married, he was always affectionate and sweet, and that night Kuai Liang came back to your house desperate, with a scar on his eye.

"-Bi Han... Bi Han betrayed us, he betrayed the Lin Kuei..." -Kuai Liang spoke sad, needy and looking to be comforted by you, while he looked at you, still feeling pain in his eye. You ran to meet your husband, worried about the wounds he had on his body and face, taking as many clean tissues and medicine as possible.

Kuai Liang softened as you attended to his wound, feeling your gentle touch soothing his pain. He looked into your eyes, his gaze filled with vulnerability.

"-Bi Han... he has turned against the Lin Kuei, our own brother. He's become a traitor, willing to sacrifice everything we stand for." -Kuai explained, his voice filled with a mix of sadness and anger.

"-He seeks power at any cost, even if it means turning his back on our clan and all that we hold dear." -He leaned closer to you, his voice dropping to a whisper. "-I fear the day may come when I must confront him, even if it means fighting my own flesh and blood."

Feeling safe and loved in your embrace, he leaned his head against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. He held your hand gently, seeking comfort in your touch. "-I'm sorry you have to witness this side of me, my love. I wish I could protect you from all this darkness."

You guided your tired husband to a hot bath, he looked... Tired, letting you take him and scrub away the dirt and dried blood that still existed on his skin, he just let you take care of him, his head was full of thoughts about an uncertain future. You guided Kuai to the room, watching him just fall on the bed, naked, looking at the window and moonlight that came in and illuminated the ninja's sore and muscular body, you just wanted to make him forget everything, and slowly touched him, kissing him passionately. Kuai Liang's body tensed up slightly as he felt your tender touch and your lips on his skin. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, basking in the warmth of your love and the pleasure you were giving him.

You progressively went down to his abdomen, while taking his dick in your hands, while putting Liang's throbbing length in your mouth, he moaned softly as you lovingly sucked on his hardening member. His hips involuntarily bucked, seeking more of your touch and your mouth. Reaching down, he gently caressed your hair, enjoying the feel of it between his fingers as you continued to pleasure him. Each stroke and lick sent waves of pleasure coursing through his body, momentarily pushing aside his pain and worries. Kuai let out a low growl, a mixture of lust and longing, as his fingers tightened in your hair. "-Yes, my love... just like that. Suck my cock... make me forget everything but you..." -His voice was filled with desire and need, his body becoming more responsive to your every touch. He arched his back, offering himself more fully to you, his moans growing louder and more urgent, as you continued to tease and please him, his mind began to drift away from the chaos and betrayal that plagued him. He became lost in the sensations you were evoking, his focus solely on the pleasure you were giving him, allowing him to momentarily forget about the world outside.

You soon see Kuai tighten the sheets beneath him, a clear sign that he wanted to cum, but you wanted to please him even more by moving your mouth away from his pulsing shaft, you crawled on the bed, towards his dick, quickly positioning your pussy on his dick, without even having time to think about using some kind of protection. Kuai Liang's breath hitched as he felt your tightness enveloping him, his eyes widening with a mix of surprise and pleasure. He gripped your hands tightly, his fingers interlacing with yours, offering you support and stability, he couldn't help but groan as he felt the warmth and wetness of your pussy surrounding him, making him throb even more inside you. He admired the sight of you straddling him, your delicate body pulsing with pleasure. The vulnerability and intimacy of the moment stirred a deep fire within him, driving him to possess and protect you. His hands trailed up your sides, his touch gentle as they settled on your waist, guiding your movements on his cock. He met your thrusts with his own, the delicious friction intensifying the pleasure for both of you.

"-Oh... Fuck my love... You feel so amazing... so tight around me." -Slowly, he adjusted his grip on your hands, guiding them to his broad chest. His muscles rippled beneath your touch as he watched you, he allowed himself to be consumed by the sensations, his body acting on pure instinct, giving in to the overwhelming pleasure you provided. The room filled with the symphony of your moans and the rhythmic sounds of your bodies colliding.

"-You make me forget all the pain, all the betrayals... I only want you, right here, right now... Damn... I love your little pussy wrapped around my cock..." -Kuai Liang's thrusts grew more urgent and fervent, he lost himself in the rhythm of your bodies, the feeling of your tightness gripping him, taking him to new heights of lust.

"-I want to hear you scream my name, come for me (Y/N)..." -he growled, his voice filled with overflowing need. His grip on your waist tightened as he took control, his thrusts becoming more forceful and confident. He plunged into you relentlessly, his pace unyielding as if he could never get enough of you. As you continued to ride him, the coil of pleasure within you built higher and higher, threatening to explode. Your moans grew louder, and with each one, he felt his own pleasure intensify, feeling your walls tighten around him, Kuai Liang knew you were close. His hand slipped between your bodies, reaching to stimulate your sensitive clit. He teased and rubbed, adding another layer of sensation to push you over the edge. "-Fuck, Feel my cock deep inside you. You belong to me, body and soul. Give in to the pleasure, and scream my name." -He continued to suckle on your breast, alternating between gentle licks and powerful suction, leaving a trail of wet kisses along your skin. With his free hand, he brought it down in a firm but controlled spank on your ass, the sound of the impact echoing in the room. Kuai Liang was completely lost in the fervor of the moment, his eyes locked on you, wanting to witness your release, he could feel his own release approaching, the tightness in his balls ready to burst.

With a low growl, he released himself inside you, his hot seed filling you completely. He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he found his release.

In the afterglow of your shared climax, Kuai Liang held you tightly, his heart racing against yours. He placed gentle kisses on your skin, his voice filled with love and devotion. "-Thank you (Y/N)... thank you for taking care of me... I just love you my angel."

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[miss-ery-3]

i literally want to throw up

my boyfriend is very supportive of me running, counting calories, skipping meals and shit - which is fine

but he is also never impressed with my progress, when i drop weight he's usually like "ok. I actually think that I also lost some weight. look how big my pants have become." and it kinda sucks that he never takes the time to recognize my achievements, but only talks about his own

but now he's gone and done it

when i set a new 5K PB this thursday, he was (to say the least) unimpressed. when i proudly told him, he looked at me silently for about a minute and then said "and you're happy with that time? or?? did you think that was a good time?" and when i said yes, he was like "ok. well, good for you then, i guess"

when i ran my first 10K yesterday, he was like "wow, cool. I think I wanna go for a run tomorrow too." and he just now called me to tell me that he ran 11K and that he "ran the last km just to piss me off" and that he has not been training like me and tha the is in very bad shape. but that it was "so easy to do"

it made my fucking blood boil

i still said that he'd done a good job and that he should be proud of himself, but then i hung up and just started crying

now i feel like my achievements aren't big or good or really... achievements at all

and the fact that he did it just to show off and make me feel bad

it pisses me off but it also makes me so sad and fuels my self hatred so much

now i'm just gonna curl up and cry in bed

[judebelle]

Gavi breaking up with the reader bc he needs space and stuff and she takes it really hard and it affects her a lot but he realizes he was wrong for it and gets her back. Just a lot of angst but fluff ending plssss. You are the bestttt

rekindled - p.g. x reader

authors note : thank you guys for the love on my recent posts, and for sending in requests. psa, the more requests i get, the more motivated i am and the more i post!

cw : just heart wrenching angst for the most part, but it gets fluffy dwww!!, swearing, sad :(

wc : 2.3k

pairing : pablo gavi x fem!reader

---

“i just don’t have the time for you anymore!”

his words truly devastated you, tearing apart the delicate threads of your heart. couldn’t he at least try? why was he just giving up?

“i don’t understand why we can’t just try to work it out, pablo! we could compromise, we can even make a schedule.. we could make it work!”

it seemed like only you were really trying, and he seemed eager to end this relationship. over what? a busy schedule? you felt useless, standing in his empty home, the echoes of your voices ringing in your ears. it was as if you were singlehandedly trying to stop a sinking ship from descending deep into the dark and bottomless blue.

“it’s not that easy, y/n! i have a lot on my plate! between football practices and matches, i barely have time for myself anymore. and then adding on this relationship, i need to make time for you as well! its too much. i know you wouldn't understand but-"

"i wouldn't understand? what is that supposed to mean? there are two people in this relationship. and it's not like i sit around all day and do nothing! i also have my own things to do! you make it seem like i am so high maintenance, like i'm too much for you to handle!"

you were growing increasingly angry as the argument progressed. how little did he think of you?

"you know that's not what i meant.."

you sniffled, "i dont think i know you at all anymore."

---

it had been a week since the break up.

you tried not to let it affect you too much, but his absence left a crater in your heart you were left too weak to fill.

the breakup casted a shadow over the once vibrant hues of your life. you found yourself dealing with the aftermath of shattered love. you were picking up the shattered pieces of your heart, the sharp glass cutting through the skin of your hands. you felt the pain during tearful nights when sleep also abandoned you, and in the empty spaces that once resonated with shared laughter.

the breakup left an indelible mark on you.

you didn't call anybody. you just sat at home. it was like pablo's words became your new reality, now you were truly sitting around all day and doing nothing.

you hadn't heard from him at all, thanking the universe knowing that if you did, it would be too much on your aching heart.

---

one month had passed.

you were finally feeling like yourself again. yes, you missed his warm embrace and touching words, but you learned to live without it.

you couldn't depend on someone to be the sole reason for your happiness. you still loved him, and you always will, but fuck did he cut deep.

---

pablo's pov

pablo found himself grappling with an unexpected wave of regret.

the relentless demands of his busy life had driven a wedge between the two of you, leaving him to confront the harsh reality of what he had lost.

pablo now spent the time he would've spent with you alone, in his home. he didn't hang out with friends. he didn't go out for dinner, just ordered food to his house. he felt lonely and bored without you.

how ironic.

the void left by your absence became easily recognizable to everyone around him, and he began to yearn for the warmth of your shared moments.

but pablo kept the painful truth of your breakup to himself, unable to utter the words aloud to anyone.

"hey bro, what's on your mind?"

he felt an arm drape across his shoulders, startling him from his thoughts.

pablo was at barcelona's training grounds, and didn't realize his slumped posture and absentminded features were noticeable to anyone but him.

pedro was walking next to him, his arm slung around the back of his neck.

"hola?? what's up with you?" pedro was insisting on finding out why his close friend was acting so strange.

"sorry, just tired.. didn't get much sleep last night." in all honesty, he hadn't. he spent most of his night lying awake, thinking of how badly he had messed up. his screen time was through the roof, scrolling through your feed and posts, reminiscing on what was once his, about the warm soul that would sleep next to him in this very bed.

"ai, don't lie now. you know i can see right through you. what's wrong, bro?" pedro wasn't giving up, pestering pablo on his silence.

pablo gulped and turned to his friend, "i.. i messed up bad bro, like really bad..".

he didn't elaborate further, unable to bring himself to come to terms with what he had done.

"uhh, that's cool and all, but it would be helpful if you explained, man. i can't help you if you dont tell m-"

"i broke up with y/n."

pablo shut his mouth after, the words leaving the bitter taste of regret in his mouth. he might've said that too loudly, causing some staff members and teammates to look his direction.

pedro didn't seem to believe it, raising his eyebrow at the boy.

"you what? wha... when?"

everyone who knew pablo knew that he was absolutely smitten with you. you were always on his mind, and he was quick to talk about you if he had the chance. it annoyed his friends sometimes, but it was cute how much he loved you.

the fact that he had broken up with you was appalling.

"around a month ago.." pablo confessed, his hands hidden behind his back like a guilty child. "i told her i was too busy to focus on our relationship, and i told her that i needed to focus on my career. it's honestly a load of bullshit. i think i was just stressed and took it out on her."

pedro's confusion was evident, his eyebrows drawn together.

"i don't understand, bro. your schedule was never an issue for you before. and why didn't you tell me? i could've, i don't know, been there for you!"

it was like pablo was being scolded, and he really did deserve it. he'd lost you because of his own stress and poor time management. you didn't deserve to suffer because of him.

"pablo, what were you thinking? i mean, i can't believe it! i would've never expected you to- okay, i'm sorry.." pedro stopped his lecturing upon seeing his friend growing increasingly upset. "my advice to you is to go apologize. and not just a quick 'sorry', but a good one. get her flowers, chocolate - i don't know, whatever chicks like. just go say sorry."

pablo looked up at his friend, hesitation on his features. "what if she doesn't take me back? w-what would i do then?" he stuttered. he was worried you would realize how big of an asshole he was, and how much he didn't deserve you.

"i mean, i wouldn't blame her," pedro smiled teasingly. "but i know y/n pretty well, she would understand." he laid a comforting hand on pablo's shoulder. "don't sweat it bro, it'll all be okay."

---

your pov

you were currently sprawled across your couch, stuffing popcorn in your mouth as you binged a show you had already seen a million times.

the bell rang.

that hadn't happened in a while. the unfamiliar sound rang in your head before you pulled yourself up from your comfortable position, walking to the door. you yanked the door open, popcorn still in your mouth.

you looked up to see the man you thought you'd never see again.

"..hola.." he whispered before sending you a soft smile. you froze in your spot. not knowing what to do as you weren't expecting this at all.

it was like you'd turned cold from shock. you acted before you thought, slamming the door on his face. you scrambled to fixed your hair and finish chewing your popcorn.

giving yourself a moment to breathe and think, you quickly opened the door again, worried he might leave. surprisingly, he was still standing there, waiting for you.

"can i come in?"

---

you let him in, of course. how could you not?

he walked in with a hunched back. his feet dragged against the floor wearily.

you told him to sit on the couch and wait as you grabbed two waters, one for him, and one for you.

the unexpected arrival of pablo, whom you thought had become a distant echo of the past, sent tremors through the newly rebuilt walls around your heart.

is there a possibility of rekindling what was once lost?

you finally dragged yourself out of the kitchen and back into the living room to where pablo was sitting with his legs shaking anxiously and his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. there were still popcorn crumbs on the couch, the halfway eaten bowl of it placed on the table across from the paused movie displayed on the tv.

oh, how you wish he warned you before showing up at your doorstep.

he turned his head to see you standing tensely in the doorframe. he smiled awkwardly as he scooted over to give you some space to sit far from him.

you sat down and placed the waters on the table in front of you. you took a deep breath before gulping hard. you eventually found the courage to croak out a few words.

"what happened, is everything alright?"

the air was thick, the unspoken history you shared lingering in the air. his eyes were red and cratered by bags. he tried to hide the lines on his face by putting on a decent outfit and gelling his hair back, but you saw right through his façade.

"i just.. wanted to apologize.."

your silence was his cue to continue speaking.

sitting in the soft glow of your living room, pablo took a deep breath before breaking the heavy silence.

"i need you to know how sorry i am for what i did, y/n. breaking up with you was the biggest mistake of my life, and i've spent every day regretting it. i miss you, not just the idea of you, but you - the way you laugh, the way you challenge me... i was foolish, and i can't keep living my life without you in it. i came here to make things right, to find a way for us to work through the challenges together. can we try again? can you forgive me?" His vulnerable pleas hung in the air while also knocking you down like heavy wind.

your gaze flickered with a mix of surprise as pablo's heartfelt words settled in the room. the weight of his apology hung between you, and for a moment, time seemed to stretch as you discerned the sincerity in his eyes.

you took a moment before responding, your voice a sorrowful blend of vulnerability and caution.

"pablo, you hurt me deeply when you walked away. i've spent nights replaying those moments, the day you left me, wondering if i meant as much to you as you say now...". The room held a fragile hope as your eyes locked.

in a desperate plea, pablo's words spilled forth with an intensity so raw it stung in the depths of your heart. his eyes reflected the sincerity of his emotions. "y/n, i can't imagine my life without you. every moment without you feels like a void i can't fill. i was foolish, and i let something so precious slip away." his voice wavered with a mix of regret and hope, showing the depth of his desire to rebuild what was lost.

"please, i'm begging you, give me another chance. i know i hurt you, and i'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. i've learned from my mistakes, and i'm not the same person who walked away. i love you, and i'm ready to fight for us. please, take me back."

you listened to pablo's heartfelt pleas carefully. after a thoughtful pause, you spoke with a calm and resolute tone,

"pablo, i appreciate your honesty and the effort you're putting into this. it's not easy to admit mistakes, and i can see the sincerity in your eyes. but i need some space to process everything. let's take things one step at a time."

pablo quietly absorbed your response. he nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of his actions. "i understand, y/n," he said with a quiet sincerity,

"i know i hurt you, and i can't expect you to erase that pain overnight. i'm here, whenever you're ready." his words left a subtle sting on your heart. he raised up from the couch, before leaving with the same hunch of his back and drag of his steps that he entered with.

the sound of the door latching closed sent a stab through your heart. your eyes began to water as the painful image of him leaving stuck in your mind.

you were standing in the doorway, and felt a sudden surge of clarity and yearning. spontaneously, you threw the door open and rushed after him, the urgency to convey your changing feelings propelling you forward. "pablo!" you called out, running down the driveway, and as he turned in surprise, you closed the distance between you. without a word, you reached out, cupped his face in your hands, and pressed your lips to his. his hands wrapped around your waist as he dipped you forward slightly, embracing your warmth and forgiveness. your brows furrowed into the kiss as you felt the craters in your heart fill slowly.

the kiss was heavy, holding many unspoken emotions—forgiveness, longing, and the realization that sometimes, the heart finds its way back when the connection is too strong to resist.

in that moment, under the dim streetlights, things changed between you two, and it seemed as though the process of reconciliation was beginning to unfold.

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

(short continuation to the prompt I wrote, which is linked below. I thought I was done with this, but then @victoria-has-no-secret and @bluerosefox had some ideas to incorporate into it. Screenshots of said ideas are also below but are sprinkled throughout the post too.)

(*) = Me building off of other ideas

TW: mentions of animal death

← previous

✦

After the whole fiasco with the Justice League, Danny gets an idea. Not very many people actually know about Laika, at least from what he could see of the majority of the Justice League who had never learned about her. Although, to be fair, a lot of them come from different planets. Either way, it gives Danny the idea to create a YouTube channel starring Laika to teach the people of Earth about the pup.

The channel immediately garners attention from all around the world, and even winds up on a couple of news stations too! It grows so much that Danny decides to expand further than just Laika, but to the other things that were sent into space in the quest for knowledge: The space rovers as well as many other animals.

Laika even leads Danny to them as he ventures further into space with a specially made camera that can withstand traversing space and the differing atmosphereic conditions of other planets. He manages to find every single one of them, discovering that maybe Laika hadn't been as alone as he'd first thought as he watches and records her playing with the spirits (imprints?) of the rovers, chimps, mice, and many other animals haunting the endless void of the cosmos.

People back on earth are going wild with the knowledge that their hopes, thoughts, and feelings helped to give life to beings that had long been dead/stopped working. They have no idea what to feel about this new information except an amalgamation of pure awe, curiosity, joy, guilt, and sadness. They still mourned the loss of Laika, the rovers, and everyone before and after them, but knowing that their existence wasn't completely lost soothed an ache many didn't know they carried with them when they were there to witness the beginning of such astronomical leaps in technology.

To also know that out of the many stars shooting across the sky, one of them might be Laika happily racing amongst the stars with her friends brought many to tears. At every opportunity, they wished for the sweet pup's happiness and the continuing health of their own furry companions down on Earth with them. They also wished that upon the eventuality that they have to part with their companions that maybe a few of them would join Laika and her friends in stars to keep them company for many years to come.

Although many of these wishes were heard by Desiree, she refused to touch such hopeful and well-meaning wishes for fear of twisting them in unseemly ways, allowing them to form on their own. The other ghosts among Danny's rouges even made a deal with each other to not interfere or attack the town when Danny was recording his videos out in space.

It was beyond bad manners to interfere with another ghost's obsession, after all.

✦

I'm gonna go cry some more. I've learned more about the progress of space exploration in the past couple hours than I probably should. This is the last thing I'm adding onto this prompt. If any of y'all wanna continue it, be my guest!

Notes:

(*) One more thing to add. Where are the ghost hunters/Guys in White during all of this? If they start making a fuss over Phantom and all the ghost animals, do they get a bunch of civilians raiding their government facilities and causing them bodily harm? What's happening with the Justice League? Are they sitting back and eating popcorn while all this goes down? Who knows. :)

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Sorry for earlier.

Pls can you write about Logan ?

𝐚𝐛𝐜 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐯𝐞𝐫. || 𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭

⋆ a/n: it's okay!! i'm going to be honest and say that near the end, i start to get a little silly, so it's safe to say i giggled at some of my headcanons while writing them. i hope you guys enjoy them too!!

masterlist | AO3 | nsfw ver.

A is for Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?):

Logan is very affectionate but behind closed doors, he does do subtle affection in front of others though. It’s nothing too crazy, just a large warm hand hovering over your lower back, or a sweet kiss to your forehead or temple if the time calls for it.

B is for Best Friend:

Unsurprisingly, Logan is your closest friend and confidant along with being your boyfriend! Even though he’ll gripe and groan when you drag him around to do things, or just stare at you in amusement when you tell him the latest drama, when shit hits the fan; he’s there holding you, whispering comforting reassurances in your ear.

C is for Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle):

Yeah, yeah, Logan’s weird about PDA, but this man is a major cuddler. He holds you, the warmth of your plush body against his skin helps to ground him. Barely ever or never the little spoon; it isn’t a masculinity thing, it’s more about putting himself between you and any potential dangers.

D is for Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?):

For right now, when it comes to settling down, I’m gonna say no. He’s still way too fearful because of the fact that he has lost so much. Logan’s domestic in his own right though, and it’s shown by the small things he does for you. He’ll iron a shirt you need for an interview, swap out body care products when they get low, do the laundry, take out the trash.

Basically anything he can do to make your life easier, he will.

E is for Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?):

It’ll always be hard.

Breaking up or getting broken up by Logan is always a somber affair if it’s done right. Logan’s hot-headed, but he would never personally try and hurt the people he cares about, so breaking up with you is hard, but he doesn’t want to risk hurting you in the long run by leading you on.

If it’s you breaking up with him, he goes a bit stoned faced, and honestly it’s quite scary, all the progress you have made with trust and vulnerability is completely broken. He isn’t sure he’ll ever get over it. 

F is for Fiance(e)(How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?):

Marriage is an overwhelming affair, at least to Logan.

He’s been to a few weddings, and he knows how these things tend to go. It’s not that he doesn’t want to marry you, it’s just… a lot. He’s more than willing to commit to you, he isn’t insatiable, just putting a ring on your finger isn’t a deal breaker for him. It’s all about safety with him, so marriage isn’t happening for a long time. But he’s open to the idea for the near future.

G is for Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?):

Logan is so gentle with you, it’s kind of sad. He knows you’re not breakable, but he’s seen – and been responsible – for so much mass destruction. He’s rough around the edges and a little broken inside, but he’s willing to mend himself because he wants to love you.

He’s gentle in the way he holds you, the way he brushes his against your cheek.

H is for Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?):

Logan is neutral when it comes to hugs; he’s okay with receiving them, but only from people that he trusts, or when he can tell someone really wants one. He’s surprisingly giving with his affections, but only with the right people.

I is for I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?):

Phew (cue loud whistle sigh), the L-word. Logan has loved, and whenever he has loved, he’s loved hard. He’s had bad luck when it comes to luck, so he takes a lot longer to say the big word back. It’s highly probable that you were the one that had told him you loved him first.

J is for Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?):

I don’t really think Logan gets jealous all that often simply because he is so secure within himself and your relationship, that if he sees someone else with you, his mind doesn’t immediately raise red flags. He only intervenes when he can tell you’re uncomfortable or if he simply doesn’t like the way they’re looking at you.

K is for Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?):

Logan’s kisses are passionate. Sometimes communication is hard, there’s so much he can express by simply pressing his lips against yours. He loves to share light-hearted, soft pecks with you. He’s an everywhere kisser when he has the time, but he’s always placing kisses on your temple or forehead. 

Your affections often fluster Logan, so whenever you kiss him on his favorite spots – like his jaw or lips – he flushes red and grumbles in faux complaints.

L is for Little Ones (How are they around children?):

We all know that Logan is literally a lost kid magnet, this man wears the found-family au like a badge of honor. He doesn’t baby them, doesn’t pamper them from the harshness of the world, but he welcomes them softly, and he helps them. He wants his children to be independent and to be able to take care of themselves.

M is for Morning (How are mornings spent with them):

I literally have a headcanon about this already, but mornings with Logan are so sickeningly soft. Many mornings, you aren’t able to even escape the bed because he holds you down and cuddles into you. If you manage to pry yourself away from him, he hangs off of you as you make breakfast, and even as you eat. He’s a menace. Plain and simple.

N is for Night (How are nights spent with them?):

Yet another headcanon I’ve already written, but many nights spent with Logan are so playful. It’s just something about it being night time and when you’re supposed to be going to bed that makes him so energetic. He’s cracking jokes, tackling you onto the bed to shower you in his ticklish affection. You basically have to wrestle him with cuddles in order to get him to calm down.

O is for Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?):

Logan and vulnerability don’t mix, but I feel like being able to even get him to become your boyfriend is a huge step into getting him to open up to you. He drops vague explanations of his past here and there, but ultimately, one night a dam opens, and you know everything.

P is for Patience (How easily angered are they?):

Contrary to popular belief, Logan has patience for the right people. He’s very biased, if you were to pull something he would get angry at a stranger at, he’s willing to work it out. 

Q is for Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?):

Logan is the most observant and perspective motherfucker ever, and I stand by that. When you open up to him, he’ll file away every one of your likes and dislikes into a little folder in his brain for further use. Many of them don’t get used of course, because affection is hard for him to express, but he just knows you.

R is for Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?):

A quiet night shared between the two of you, twisted up in the sheets together when the insomnia gets bad. You’re both facing each other, laying on your sides and whispering a conversation, as if you’re afraid your voices will pierce the air.

S is for Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?):

So protective. Like, it’s actually insane. Logan would protect you in any way he can, even if that means he has to kill someone. Of course he doesn’t need to be physically protected, but a lot of people have taken shots at his character, so if you’re able to defend him that way, it’d warm him up.

T is for Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?):

Listen, Logan tries when it comes to dates/anniversaries – bless his heart. He’s not a total stick in the mud when it comes to romance, because in my eyes, he’s a little bit of a secret hopeless romantic. Effort comes easy to Logan when it comes to the small things like I mentioned in D (Domestic). He likes making your life easier, so everyday tasks are literally no sweat off his back. 

U is for Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?):

Logan has his moments where he gets extremely emotionally constipated. Like, it doesn’t matter with how reassuring you are, sometimes, his walls go back up around him, like an impenetrable force and you can’t reach him. 

V is for Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?):

Listen, I love Logan, but this man does not care about his appearance all that much. Sure, he’ll trim his beard when needed, and even get his haircut, but he prefers to be casual, so he doesn’t cause a big commotion about his appearance. He’s not very vain.

W is for Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?):

I feel like if you’ve been around him for a long time, before or after you guys had started dating, if anything were to happen to you, there’d be a you shaped hole inside his heart. 

X is for Xtra (A random headcanon for them.):

Okay, Logan likes to act like he’s above the drama, but whenever you come home cussing and ranting about your boss or your co-workers, he is sat. Yes he wants to hear about your married co-workers who are sleeping together. Yes, he wants to hear about how your boss had a stain on his shirt the whole day. He’s secretly messy and you love it.

Y is for Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?):

Logan fucking despises egotistical people; like how is your head so big? It genuinely baffles him. Sometimes really outgoing people – cough cough Wade cough cough.

Z is for Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?):

Sorry to shatter Logan’s charming bubble, but he snores. Really loud. He snores like an old man but absolutely refuses to get a sleep apnea machine. The fight he put up about it was laughable.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @khxna @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @moonysreid

[herotome]

Hi everyone.

This is a hard update for me to write. But I'm here!! Still here.

I lost someone very important to me earlier this month. I knew it was a long time coming, but it's still hard. I'm coping as best as I can. Even got a commemorative tattoo (my very first tattoo!) to remember them by.

Herotome has been a reprieve for me, uh... sometimes. There are times when it's helpful to peck away at it, and there are times where all I can do is look at old photos and cry.

So - no hiatus, per se! I only ask for continued understanding for any slowness or sadness from my end (though y'all have already been so patient and kind, I'm not worried). 🫶

Allllll this being said, here's an update from a less personal front:

Eyebrows!!!!

I made this set of references to remind myself how much progress I've made for everybody (aside from beloved golden child Dart, who wears a helmet for most of his screentime and I love him for it).

I think Mia is the most "complete" set of brows...

I was also able to write just a little bit! It wasn't much but it WAS a transition that was giving me trouble.

I also backed up my files! Finally!! After waaaay too long. ;;;;

That's about it for now.

Stay safe and keep warm,

Wudge.

[sphireath-wisp]

#You and Me - Always Forever

Sypnosis: What was one of the moments that made them decide they wanted to marry you and vice versa?

Warnings: Might fall in love with the reader, no actual proposals (just the moments that spark that thought, that feeling that you'd want to spend a lifetime with that person), not proofread, messy interchanging grammar

Note: Bachira and Rin version is coming up soon!!

Featuring: Seishiro Nagi, Yoichi Isagi x GN! Reader

Seishiro Nagi - What made him want to marry you?

"Still can't get past that level?" You settle down next to him on the soft mattress of your bed. He whines - a 'yes' in his dictionary - and tugs on the hem of your shirt to pull you closer. The pillow originally cuddled nicely on his lap is replaced by you, you were softer than any lame pillow anyway.

His arms are wrapped comfortably around your waist whilst his hands are occupied by his phone - otherwise, he would've had his hands all over you. Nagi's head relaxes on your shoulder, fingers brushing your hair aside. You hear the tapping of his thumbs against the screen progressively get louder with the occasional soft grunts and sighs of frustration.

You chuckle, "Nagi, I'm meeting up with an old friend soon, let me go." You notice his grip on his phone tightens. Instead of listening to you, he does the opposite, holding you even closer. You huff. It always boiled down to this when it came to leaving his side - you would tell him your very valid reason for leaving, he would pout and cry, and you would have to resort to emergency measures.

Pressing a delicate kiss on his cheek, you quickly worm your way out of his arms when he isn't focused. "I'll be back later!" or so you exclaimed, creaking the door shut behind you. By the time Nagi has registered your exit, he realizes he lost in his game - you now owe him a good 30 minutes of your undivided attention and, for good measure, 10 kisses.

The night after you left was a complete blur, he was whining and complaining to Reo for who knows how long, but you never showed up. Whenever he did make the effort to drag his feet out of the bedroom, he saw you happily chatting with your friend - "I'll wait a little longer," he would mumble, not wanting to disturb your little reunion.

Before he realized it, it was already the following morning, your body hurled up to his. "I don't remember getting in bed," Nagi mutters, voice lowered into a whisper so as to not disturb your sleep. He thinks it's a bit strange - you had recently been having trouble sleeping and he always made sure you got into bed before he did... perhaps he just forgot after all.

"Ah, right." He slowly stands up, making his way to his computer as he begins to recollect the events of last night. From the little bits of last night that he could recall, he remembers calling Reo on his computer (ahem, Discord).

Much to his surprise, Reo had sent him... quite a long video that he recorded from last night. From the thumbnail, Nagi noted that Reo had screen-recorded the call he was on with Nagi.

He plops back down on the bed, wanting to be close to you as he sits through this - hopefully - entertaining video.

"(Name) left," That monotone voice, familiar white and fluffy hair - it was him in the video. "They owe me 30 minutes and 10 kisses." Nagi hears a familiar chuckle from the video as Reo begins.

"Ah, how sad. First, you can't beat that level and now your dearest (Name) isn't paying attention to you, I almost feel bad for you." Reo teases and Nagi pouts as he watches the video, perfectly mirroring the expression he wore last night.

"It's okay... I can wait."

"Stop lying to yourself, Nagi." Reo takes notice of Nagi's newfound restlessness.

"I hope (Name)..." Nagi yawns before continuing, "...hope they come back soon." He lays his arms down on the table, head resting on his right bicep whilst fidgeting with his phone. "This game's rigged."

"Lost again?" Reo chuckles. "Don't worry, I'll make sure to send (Name) all of your complaints. They'll be sure to shower you in kisses the next morning."

"Thanks, Reo, you're the best." Nagi corrects himself after pausing. "Second-best."

"Ouch, even I can't beat (Name)."

The video had dragged on with small tidbits of funny moments to keep Nagi watching, but it was mainly a compilation of him grumbling. However, it started getting interesting halfway through.

"Right, Nagi?" The silence is loud except for the sound of gunshots - likely from the game. "Nagi?" Reo repeats with a concerned expression on his face. He connects the dots. Nagi had fallen asleep. "Pfft," He bites his lip to hold back his laughter, chest bubbling.

"Alright then, night-" Just as Reo was about to end the call, he heard the door open while calling out Nagi's name. "Oh," As if you were duplicating Reo, you refrained from laughing too much and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

Reo turns off his camera, observing you with bated breath. "Did he really wait for me?" You scratch the back of your neck, helping him sit upright in the chair before somehow dragging his 190cm body to bed. It was a smart choice for Reo to mute himself, you would have heard him bursting out laughing otherwise.

"Sweet dreams, love." You couldn't help but be generous tonight, giving Nagi's cheek a soft kiss. Rubbing your eyes, you were about to grab his phone from the table before stopping mid-action.

"...This game has a saving function, right?" You conveniently take a seat right in front of the computer, a perfect view of that puzzled expression plastered on your face. "Where would it be? Wait, shit, I didn't mean to start a round."

You purse your lips, eyebrows furrowing as you randomly press buttons. You genuinely looked distressed, aware that he'd be upset if he lost progress. Multiple sighs of frustration escaped you, completely lost. But, despite your frustration, you would rather sit there and struggle than see Nagi disheartened the next day.

Eventually, you pull out your own phone with your other hand and presumably search for how to save the game. "Ohh, okay, I think I get it."

Eyes locked onto Nagi's phone, you breathed a sigh of relief when you finally figured it out. "Okay then, phew... Better save multiple times." You stood up and tiptoed your way to bed, hearing one last giggle from you before the video ended.

Nagi's left stunned - he doesn't know what to say. His parted lips slowly curve into a smile, one hand cupping your cheek. Careful not to wake you from your slumber, he lays back down in bed, gaze melting. His thumb gently grazes your lips, hand traveling to your hair before pulling you closer to him.

"...You still owe me those kisses." He buries his face into your shoulder, a content sigh leaving him.

You - What made you want to marry him?

You have... low expectations when it comes to Nagi. He's a minimal-effort type of guy. Because of the little motivation he had, because of how painfully forgetful he could be, he did everything in the little power he had to remember the little things about you.

Your birthday is his password, your favorite candy and flower is his home screen so he'll always remember to get you something special on his way home from practice, and your oh-so enchanting picture on his lock screen. He's enamored, absolutely smitten when it comes to you - perhaps that's why he asked you this.

"(Name), why do people get married? Documents... preparing for it... isn't a hassle?" Nagi snuggles his cheek against your thigh, rolling his body to lie on his back at looking up at you and the tree you both were relaxing under. Your soft chuckles escalate to loud bursts of laughter, gently pinching his cheek.

"Nagi, honey," You notice a slight smile when you call him honey, "it's for love."

You see Nagi scratch his head, fingers running through his messy white locks. "We love each other, so why aren't we married?"

"People who get married want to take their relationship a step further, move on from just boyfriend and girlfriend. You know what I mean?"

Nagi definitely did not get it. "What's the point in that?"

You purse your lips in thought, gaze shifting upwards as you stare at the sky. "It's saying that you're willing to dedicate everything to them. Spend your time with them until you both are old, promise to never leave their side, and build your future with them." Dipping your chin, you let go of his cheek and target his ear this time. "It's nothing small or pointless."

Nagi thinks for a moment and you assume he finally understood. It certainly did give you a good shock and laugh when he asked such a question, you were almost worried he was crazy enough to ask you to marry him.

"I wanna spend the rest of my life with you... Can we get married?"

Perhaps you spoke too soon. Blush spreads across your cheeks and progresses to the tip of your ears. Clearing your throat and looking elsewhere, you speak, "Nagi... not so soon."

"So when?"

"When we're older."

"How old?" Damn, he was really determined.

"When both of us are ready, to move in together, to wake up and sleep next to each other every single day."

"...Are you not ready?" Gray doe eyes stare at you, eyebrows furrowing slightly. He speaks as if he was completely serious and ready, his mind set on spending the rest of his years with you.

As much as you didn't want to disappoint him, you needed to be truthful. Your eyes met his. "No, I'm not ready, not yet."

"Okay..." Just as you expected, he sighed and backed down for a moment. Your heart ached a little seeing his reaction, but you didn't have time to say anything before he returned to his previous insistence. "What ring would you want?"

"Nagi! I told you I'm not ready. There's no need to rush." Honestly speaking, you found it a teeny bit cute, but it'd be plain impulsive to rush into marriage.

"Just tell me."

You place a hand on your chin, humming as you think about it. You weren't exactly prepared to answer such a question, so the first thing that came to your mind spilled out of your mouth like word vomit."...A diamond ring?"

"Okay." Nagi pulls out his phone, changing his lock screen to a diamond ring - Was he really serious about this? His hand holds yours, fingers caressing your ring finger specifically. "I'll wait for as long as you want me to."

You recognized that look in his eye anywhere. You had seen it when he played soccer and scored an unbelievable goal so many times. Nagi had already decided and, because you knew him so well, you were aware you couldn't stop him.

Your mouth opens at first to retort and, hopefully, knock some sense into him. However, you hold your tongue when he closes his eyes. "Sleepy, already?"

"Mmhm, you're the best pillow I could ever ask for."

"Is that why you want to marry me?" You scoff and shake your head - a big contrast to that warm smile spreading on your face.

"It's a good bonus."

Well, you could always chide him another time. You'll have all the time in the world when you're sleeping in the same bed with him and wishing him a good night or when you're celebrating anniversaries together. You'll have more than enough time after you marry him.

Yoichi Isagi - What made him want to marry you?

You take hold of Isagi's wrist, preventing him from knocking on the door of his parent's home. "Wait wait wait, I'm not ready." You take deep breaths in a poor attempt to calm down, blaming the wind for making you shiver uncontrollably when Isagi questions you - even though it wasn't even cold that night.

"Ahhh," You let go of Isagi's wrist and pace back and forth in front of the doorstep. You scratch your head, messing up the hairdo you spent so long trying to perfect at home. "What if your parents don't like me? What if they don't approve? What will happen to us?"

Isagi grabs your hand firmly, stopping you from mindlessly circling around the doorstep. He runs his fingers through your hair, taming any loose strands of hair and brushing through the tangles. "Don't worry," he squeezes your hand, "I'm here for you."

"Plus, why wouldn't they like you?" You feel a thumb caress the knuckles of your hand. "I'm sure they'll love you. Come on, let's knock on the door together."

"Not to mention, we shouldn't stay out here that long. I don't want you catching a cold in this weather." Isagi plays along with your lame excuse, neither teasing nor making fun of you for it.

Isagi was so, so sure he'd be the one reassuring you the whole night, holding your hand under the table, finishing your sentences when you stumble on your words - he was prepared and ready to be your knight in shining armor. But, why has the table turned a whole 180 degrees on him? He's the one blushing profusely, sweat clinging to his forehead as he hears his mother's question.

"Would you like to see Isagi's baby pictures?" The question was repeating in his head like a broken record, a bad dream he couldn't escape by pinching himself awake. What turned this bad dream into a full-on nightmare was when you nodded without a single atom of hesitation. Despite how much he tugged on your sleeve, you continued to smile oh-so innocently.

"Alright, let me go get them." Isagi's mother slowly stands up and you rush to her side, pulling her chair behind and helping her up. "Take your time," you remind her softly, letting go of her arms when you are sure she can stand on her own two feet. Isagi widens his eyes when he sees how patient you are with his mother.

How sly of you, trying to make him forget about his baby pictures that you happily - on the verge of eagerly - agreed to see.

"Babe!" Isagi hisses at you through clenched teeth once you sit back down next to him, his cheeks flushed. "What? You already saw my baby pictures. I think I deserve to see yours." You had begun to get comfortable around his parents and that distraught version of you that he witnessed just a while ago vanished into thin air.

"Ah, there it is!" Isagi's mother returns to the table, a dusty book in her hand. She opens its pages, revealing pictures of Isagi in his formative years inside.

"This is when he first entered kindergarten," You nod while his mother points, unable to hold back your giggles of delight. Isagi's hand almost crumples the pages of the book as he hurriedly flips to the next page.

"Oh! This is when you won your first spelling bee." Isagi's mother hums. "You were so proud of yourself back then."

"Awh, is this when he took his first steps?" You begin to join in the teasing, shifting your chair closer to his mom's.

"Mhm, isn't he cute?"

"Oh, oh! Are these his class photos?"

"He's building a sandcastle in the picture, we were at the beach that day."

Isagi could barely hear the full conversation, his mind going blank at some parts.

At this point, you could feel the steam escaping Isagi as he heats up beyond his melting point. He places one hand on your thigh, burying his face into your shoulder in absolute embarrassment. This conversation would actually make him evaporate.

You pat his head, comforting him. "Ma'am, I think we could continue this another time. Isagi needs some time to cool off." You rub circles on his back with your palm, hearing a relieved sigh escape him.

Man, you really know how to read him.

You - What made you want to marry him?

Recently, you noticed your beloved boyfriend develop a new habit. Whenever you sleep over at his house, which has been happening more often because of a pair project you both have together (that requires a ridiculous amount of discussion and cooperation), you have recently begun taking mental note of his little habits.

One of the most noteworthy examples is the fact that he has this notebook that he wrote in once in a while. Sometimes, he would write in it multiple times a day. Other times, he wouldn't write in it for a full day and maybe even leave it to collect dust for the following day as well.

In the beginning, you made the assumption that it was just a journal to rant or perhaps a diary. However, the fact that he doesn't write in it every day proves your diary theory wrong. So, you went with the former - even he would have things he needs to get off his chest.

...did he not trust you enough to confide in you? He knows you're there for him, right? Is he going through something?

It made you sickly worried, but what could you do? It would be just plain rude to go through his notebook. No matter how much you wanted to confirm it for yourself, no matter how much your curiosity killed you over and over again when you caught sight of the wind flipping the book open, you did not want to and did not have the right to invade his privacy.

That night, he sat by his desk and twirled the pen in his hand, biting the end of the pen occasionally. Tapping his shoulder at a safe distance to alert him, you observe him as he turns his head to you.

That comically soft gaze of his alone almost made you forget your words, your train of thought coming to a sudden halt. You clear your throat, "What are you writing?" Your glances alternate between him, the room, and the book (though you tried avoiding looking at the book for too long).

To your surprise, he didn't immediately shut the book, dragging another chair next to him for you. Isagi openly shows it to you, "Do you want any cats in the future? Dogs? Pets in general?" He nods when you respond, writing down your reply in the notebook.

You analyze the pages silently, at a loss of words when you really absorbed what he was writing. From your allergies to what you didn't like in food, from what he had in common with you to activities you both enjoyed, it was sweet and insane at the same time.

You couldn't believe you were just overthinking a while ago. Relief washed over you.

"Should we have a cactus, like Nagi does? Should we name the cactus too?" Isagi laughs and you follow suit, concurring with the idea.

Isagi was almost the optimistic type, looking forward to the future. It was adorable seeing him plan so much in advance. It conveyed to you how excited he was to be with you, how euphoric it sounded to spend the time he had now and the time he would have in the future with you - and he wasn't alone, you felt the exact same way.

Even though both of you knew how life could be, life never goes according to plan no matter how much you try to make it, it didn't matter. The both of you will figure things out together, just like you've always done.

"Isagi, why are you writing all of this down?"

"Okay, I know that this will sound cheesy but-" Isagi places his hand on yours, interlocking fingers with you. "It's my promise to you."

"Promise?" You blink.

"It's physical proof that I mean it when I say I'll always be with you. I'm not here for the short term, I'm going to build a life with you, (Name)." Oh no, he's left you breathless again.

"That is cheesy."

"Right?"

"But, it's just like you." You kiss his cheek. "I wouldn't change anything about you.

[luveline]

i love how you write roan 🥹🥹🥹 what if she sees reader upset about something (sad song or movie? not something super serious) and she cries because you’re sad and she doesn’t want you to be

ty for ur request ♡ fem!reader

Eddie lavishes like a king in the corner of the new couch. This is the life, he thinks, the sentiment strengthened by your foot warming under his thigh and Roan's entire body stretched out in his lap. 

He tucks her hair out of her face and presses a soft kiss behind her ear. He loves movie nights. A bowl of jiffy pop popcorn with extra butter and milk duds cools to his left, your body screwed up in a shape to his right. You're so endearing he's stopped being surprised by it, and Roan's his eternal love —he has the perfect girls for company every single day. 

"Eddie?" you whisper.

He and Roan both look at you. "Yeah?" 

"Does the–" You cover your mouth so Roan can't see. "Does the mommy seahorse die?" 

"You've never seen this movie before?" Roan asks. 

You drop your hand. "Well, I thought I did, but I guess I fell asleep last time?" You speak with your face turned toward them but your eyes on the TV screen, horror dawning in the pinch of your brows. "No way. No way!" 

What follows is a few long minutes of absolute silence as the movie progresses. The mommy seahorse, who's been sick the whole movie, says goodbye in a burst of colour. Eddie isn't sure if he loves watching something this sad with Roan this small, but he supposes she'll feel much worse than this as life goes on. Still, he hugs her nice and tight in case she needs it. She's been known to cry at movies: she cries every time the Part of Your World song plays in The Little Mermaid. 

Eddie's cried a couple of times with her. 

He's a little surprised when she tears up, though. Looking down at her with pursed lips, Eddie rubs the length of her arm, silky pyjamas cold under his palm. "It's okay," he whispers, pulling her to his chest. "Don't be sad, Ro, it's just a movie." 

Roan shakes her head, her shoulders shaking as she crawls out of his lap and into yours. You let your knee drop to accept her. Eddie's slightly offended until the TV screen goes white and the tears running down your cheeks shine in clarity. 

"Baby," he says with a snort. 

You laugh yourself as Roan sniffles in your lap. "Hey, what's the matter?" you ask her. 

"You're crying," Roan says. 

"You're crying." You sniffle and wipe her cheeks with your thumbs. "We're silly, huh?" 

Roan isn't perturbed by the movie, it's your crying that's affecting her. She does as you'd done, wiping your cheeks dry with her hands before enclosing your shoulders in short arms. "Don't cry, mom. It gets better at the end of the movie. They find the starstone." 

You sniff and laugh, your foot shifting from under Eddie as you fold yourself around Roan, almost protectively. "Are you crying 'cos I'm crying? Princess, they're just movie tears. I'm a softie." 

"She's a huge softie," Eddie says, lost for what to do besides sit there and watch. 

"Are you okay?" Roan asks. 

"Baby, I'm fine. It's only a sad movie. I'm okay, I promise." You smile widely. "See?" 

Eddie decides nobody is in any real emotional distress, grabbing the popcorn bowl. "You know," —his words stagger as he gets distracted digging for milk duds— "we should start watching other stuff if you guys are gonna fall apart. You're gonna have headaches and I'm gonna have to take care of you both. We could watch one of my tapes–" 

"No, dad," Roan says firmly. "No way." 

"Which tape? I love you, Eddie, I really love you, but I can't watch your bootleg of Live in Irvine again this week. I'm all Metallica'd out." 

"Hey." He holds his hands up. "Whatever." 

You and Roan share a guilty laugh. "Maybe I could watch it one more time," Roan says. 

"You just feel bad for hurting my feelings." 

Roan shakes her head, dark hair bouncing around her cheeks. "That's not true, daddy." 

He puts the bowl of popcorn on Roan's play table and leans back, arms over the backs of the sofa with forearms hanging down, cool. He raises his eyebrows at his pouting daughter.

"I– I actually like Metallica," Roan says, an arm behind your neck, her cheek brushing your cheek. 

You make a pleased humming sound and nuzzle your cheeks together. "Me too." 

Liars. "So we can watch it tonight?" he asks. 

You whisper something in Roan's ear. 

"Um, no. Y/N's too sad from the movie. I think you need to make her feel better, with, uh…" You whisper again. Roan's eyes widen with understanding. "With The Little Mermaid!" 

"Oh, awesome, so we're gonna cry all night?" Eddie asks. 

He gets up to put it in the TV. You drag yourself to his side in the corner of the couch and the three of you smush together into a bundle of warmth under a big throw blanket. When Roan cries during Part of Your World, you shush her and dry her cheeks affectionately. Eddie can't help laughing. He loves you both, but you're such gigantic softies it's unreal. 

"Would you still fall in love with me if I could speak?" you whisper. On screen, Prince Eric tells Ariel she can't be the one after all, her voice taken by the evil sea witch. 

Eddie can't see your face, his head resting on yours. Each word you speak vibrates up. "Of course I would." 

"My pick up lines were half the selling point," you argue. 

You're a flirt sometimes, he'll give you that. "I'd love you even if you had a fish tail instead of legs. Eric doesn't know how good he's got it. I'd miss your voice." He draws a short line down your arm with his marriage fingertip. "But you'd still be my Y/N." 

"That's Disney cheesy," you say with a scoff. 

But. You weasel your arm around Roan's front to hug him, too. Gentle, you press a kiss to the slope leading down from his neck. His flirting was cheesy for sure, and it worked like a charm. 

[skribbyposts]

ZOSAN AND MECHANICAL BULL SHENANIGANS?! sign me up, yes please.

post inspired by @bidisastersanji 's fantastic prompt, though slightly different since I kept it in the canon verse instead of making it a modern au.

buckle up children, get ready to go bull riding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"This is so stupid," Zoro grumbles.

"Can you enjoy anything, for once in your life?" Sanji plucks the cherry from his drink and tosses it into his mouth.

"I can, just not this."

Apparently, watching people get thrown off of a sad excuse for a mechanical bull in some shoddily made ring is supposed to be enjoyable. Zoro has lost count of the number of parties he's been dragged to by his captain, but watching people compete this way for a fucking cowboy hat has to be the least entertaining thing he's ever seen.

"Stop being such a buzzkill. Anyways, it's 'cause these people are fucking terrible," The cook says as he plays with the cherry stem between his teeth. "We had one of these at the Baratie; even Carne could stay on longer than these losers." Sanji downs the rest of his drink, muttering something under his breath.

Flash forward fifteen minutes (and a few drinks), and Zoro is ready to fall asleep. Next to him, Sanji has gotten progressively more vocal about how bad the partygoers are at riding around on the contraption in front of them. The crowd circling the ring has also gotten progressively bigger, squishing them shoulder-to-shoulder.

"Put your goddamn back into it!" The cook cups his hands and shouts to the man up next, who is currently trying to avoid getting rocketed into a wall as the bull violently bucks around. However, the blond's proximity to Zoro also means he shouts right in his ear.

"Do you ever shut up?" Zoro gripes.

"You shut up," Sanji replies, angrily nursing a margarita he stole off a waiter's tray.

"I wasn't even-- I hate you."

About thirty seconds go by before the cook exclaims in exasperation, throwing his hands in the air and almost spilling his drink all over Zoro. "Everyone's fucking incompetent!"

Zoro groans. "Stop complaining like you could do any better, curly-brow."

"I'm offended that you think I couldn't!" Sanji shouts over the cheering of the crowd as another person gets bucked off.

Zoro thinks the cook could last a lot longer than anyone up there, but he doesn't say that -- Sanji's ego is big enough.

"Here, marimo. Hold my drink," Sanji pushes the half-empty glass into Zoro's hands. "Let's make a bet. How long do you think I can stay on?"

"Curly, you're drunk."

"Answer the goddamn question."

Forever, if Sanji really tried. "Five seconds."

Sanji shoots him an offended look. "Jesus, where's your faith?" With that, he turns away and pushes himself to the front of the group of bustling people.

Sure enough, Zoro's watching the cook clamber into the ring, a lit cigarette in his mouth (where did he get that from?) and the worst posture Zoro's ever seen.

The cook hops onto the mechanical bull, grabbing onto the metal grip before pointing and yelling at someone in the corner to start it up.

The thing starts slowly at first, and Sanji's hair sways as the bull moves back and forth. the cook barks again at some unseen person, and then it really starts to ramp up.

The bull starts bucking hard, the force at which it travels increasing each time it swings. Zoro would be worried if he didn't recognize the look of smug anticipation on Sanji's face as he straightens up, even from back in the crowd. He's about to pull some crazy-ass stunt.

When the bull leans forward, The cook uses the momentum to push himself off the handlebars from a seated position and into a handstand, twisting around to plant his feet on the saddle as he comes down.

Sanji moves fluidly with the machine, hips shifting in every direction it leans to keep himself firmly onboard. while the crowd roars, Zoro watches every movement Sanji makes with rapt attention. the blond rocks with the bull, hands now in his pockets and lips still wrapped around the cigarette he pulled from out of nowhere.

He pulls a few more tricks, long, muscular legs propelling him up to balance on the wooden horns of the bull - and gives a cheeky wave to the crowd. Goddamn. Zoro wishes that didn't work on him.

Sanji finishes up his routine with a flourish, doing an aerial and landing smoothly in a crouch on the hay floor of the ring. The crowd cheers even louder than before, and some tubby man comes out to give the cook a pink, bedazzled cowboy hat. The sea of people parts and leaves Zoro standing there awkwardly as Sanji saunters towards him.

"How's that for five seconds, Greenie?" the blond spins the hat around on his finger.

Zoro grunts and tries to suppress the flush on his face. "I could do better."

Sanji rolls his eyes, taking back his drink. "Sure you could. Anyways, I could last a lot longer than that in... other things, y'know?" Sanji makes eye contact with him as he downs the rest of his margarita. "What's that phrase again... ride a bull, fuck a cowboy?" He shrugs, placing the cowboy hat on Zoro's head then looking him up and down. "Eh, close enough."

If Zoro had liquid in his mouth, he would have done a spit take. "What!?"

The blond smirks and puts his cigarette out in the bottom of his glass. "You heard me, marimo. Now- WHERE'S THE FUCKING BATHROOM?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sanji: i really wanna fuck a cowboy rn *puts cowboy hat on zoro* Zoro: *shocked, confused, bewildered* Sanji: That'll do, i guess

eughhh writers block hit me so hard for like 3 days and i rushed to get this out so this might be kinda terrible. wrote it in like 7 minute intervals over the course of a day so some things might not connect?? lmfao..... sleep deprivation is so fetch.

thibking of making an a03 account..... ill let yall know if i do!!!! hope u enoyed reading this pls comment i really appreciate it !! <3333

[the-white-void]

THOSE LOST IN TIME SEARCHING FOR WHAT CANNOT BE FOUND

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Caged little bird - You, who once held so much power, abandoned it all for freedom from the one who loved you most, yet, they still crawl from the death of your mind to drag you back.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Escape of the Burdened Oni - one unworthy of such treatment, you grant them the presence of your benevolence (date).

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Mine Mother - One favoured by the world's sentience

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Divine Mischief - Oh, mischievous god toys around with their little followers.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Little Bird, why do you Sing such a sad Tune - those of the dive favour their pet, until it runs away and meets its one look-alike from another world.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Bloody Mary - Blood of gold stained the soil of the world that was supposed to revere your name, yet, you treated like a vile villain that plagued this world. And when the world knew the truth, only carnage filled your eyes.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ "O Divine Creator, we humbly bow to you whilst you're on your throne-" I'M ON MY TOILETTE!!! - As you innocently play Genshin on your phone, the seven Archons that are known in the game claim you as their creator. All while you were releasing the remains of the sustenance you had from the past two days.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ You are my only Haven -  A little girl watches over a human that she has waited so long to meet “Will you please wake up? I’m really lonely” she whispers hoping to see your eyes and hear your voice.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Teyvat's Diary - Teyvat, a small oblivious creature, only sees the world formed on her by humans through eyes that do not belong to her. All her thoughts were written in her diary.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Teyvat's opinion about the children - what the sentience of teyvat thinks about the children.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Unbounded by the trivial - You are an imposter but you don’t really care about anything anymore so you just let it be, it’s not like if you try hard enough you could change it.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ "Who are you? Wait, there's TWO?!" - simple texts between what was supposed to be nothing but an AI, yet, how did casual texting two Tsaritsa's end up with both coming to your world.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Moving On - You're moving away. We want you back.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ My Momma - little scenarios with a child’s mother figure

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Otherworldly Things *Part 2- The archons come to your world but cannot return to theirs, so they start getting to know yours.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ La Seine (Monster in Paris AU) - Running away from the captors along with a friend, you find yourselves in a bar where you end up dancing together to hide from the guards.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Let the Play Begin - The Imposter is caught. How shall the play end?

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Life, Death, Rebirth - “Thee hadst been thrown into teyvat wh’re i did rule. Thou art mine own heir, mine own physical f'rm, yet those daws besmirch t by leaving thee with scars and wounds. And i shall nay longeth'r standeth aside while those imbeciles taketh our headeth”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ "The Story" 1 2 3 4 - This story is a Samsara, one you cannot control. *WARNING* this work may contain topics or language that may make some audiences uncomfortable.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Scriptor De Re - The Traveler is known for their grand accomplishment throughout Teyvat, but who pulls the strings behind the scenes.

Special

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖₊˚⊹ Interactive Player AU - A story you build. You decide each choice [name] makes. And each choice could change how the story progresses and ends.

✧˖°. How it works - You send an ask of who your character is and where they start. The story begins until you need to make the choice again, there, the fic will stop until you decide what happens next. Long story short, a role-playing game.

Works

D��s le Début: Noraa 1 by: @udretlnea

[bronx-bomber87]

First off thank you much for the lovely response to my last thoughts. I was very nervous about posting and got a lot of good replies, notes and reblogs. This fandom is the best. I think it's important to see both sides and I wanted Tim's to be represented in a way that gave insight without condoning what he'd done. (Cause our boy done messed up.) So giving a little of myself achieved that I believe.

I didn't know a ton about this ep cause I’m a square who stays away from spoilers haha So let’s get started.

6x08 Punch Card

Ugh my heart Tim got a reminder for Lucy’s Bday. Instant heart stomping already….I love that he had a reminder set up though. Making sure he would't forget. I’m crying already. Even though I'm so very sad. I love that he had this setup. When the elevator opens the amount of tension is palpable. Something felt very wrong. Good thing Tim was lost in his Lucy moment or he would've picked up on this sooner.

Poor Tim just wants to explain himself to Mad Dog. To explain what happened. The man is not in a place to receive it and we see later why. That look said it all though when Mad Dog departs. When Dr. London said she just took the wrong elevator my red flag gut was going off.

Now that I've see the episode as a whole I can see Dr. London's play here. She seems to use flirting as a defense mechanism all her own. To protect herself and manipulate those around her. I mean they brought her flirt fest with Aaron in the recap back for a reason I think. She's worried Tim read into something about her interaction with Mad Dog. I mean Tim is clearly upset about seeing him and she uses that to deflect attention off herself. My off meter definitely was kicking on with her. Especially with how flirty she was being I didn't like it.

Now some may see Tim's response as him flirting back but I think he's investigating her. Also he's being a little sassy because he's not comfortable with her doing therapy outside the office. I mean his face when he leaves that elevator is not of a man who just flirted. It's one who is one still hurting and two his cop gut is going off but he isn't sure why....He seems conflicted by what just went down in that elevator. Just like us he was feeling off about her.

This scene was very cute with Grey. I loved him anointing her to be a T.O. LOL Also once again showing the faith he has in Lucy. To train Celina and know she would do a good job. I was excited for this opportunity for her. For her to tap into leadership. Honestly it shouldn't have taken this long for Lucy to get to show her chops with this.

Tim is so busy trying to delete his Lucy reminder he runs into the physical version of it without realizing. Andddddd it’s still awkward af between them. How could It not be? No communication between them so naturally it is. Stilted awkwardness. Lucy got out of there so fast. Even with Tim making the all powerful joke. Trying to make it less awkward. Ow. Couldn't get away fast enough. The way he watches her go. *sigh* Like he's watching his entire heart depart the room.

This hurts you guys. No matter how much I know it’ll be ok at some point this hurts to watch. Grey not pulling any punches noting how very awkward that was. Tim telling him that's actually better than it's been....Makes me wonder how much time has passed between 6x07 and now. Wade not caring that's progress to Tim. He is not messing around....

Just wants Tim to fix is ASAP cause of the team dynamic. He's not wrong. Man isn't wrong. Rarely if ever is. Saying if Tim can't there’s gonna be a transfer and it won’t be Lucy….I mean I LOVE Grey siding with Lucy on this one. Not a doubt in his mind if it shakes out that way it'll be Tim. That being said just hearing that. Ugh. Deep anxiety pit of my stomach. And of course it would be friggin North Hollywood. That damn station been haunting them since S2. Looming over them ready to take one of them away.

Lucy being Celina’s T.O .for the day I love it. She is so excited to be her leader even if it's just for this shift. Just wants to 'Invest in her success.' You know Lucy's leadership is pretty damn identical to how I am with my team. While I am mostly Tim there are pieces of Lucy in me as well. I related to her style of leadership quite a bit.

Aaron and Tim in the surveillance van is hilarious. Their dynamic has always entertained me. I truly adore these two goobers together. Tim is trying so hard to keep his shit together. Aaron dying of ask him if he finds it hard to surveil his old team for an OP? Tim of course gives him the company line. Doing what he is told without complaint. Pulling out some S1 Tim with that reply my love.

Tim then telling him he needs a stronger deodorant LOL It's too funny. What a boring assignment for them both. Tim went from running that entire team. Doing ops and making decisions on the fly to this….Also Aaron being too distracted by his deodorant comment to pay attention is the most Aaron thing ever haha

What I love the most about Lucy with Celina is her correcting without crushing her confidence. Once again reminding me of myself when I'm correcting my work kids on stuff. She is kind but confident in her assessment of what she did wrong in this moment. Celina receiving it well because she handles it this way. Lucy out here crushing it already with zero T.O. training. Just going off instinct and what she would want if she was a newbie still. Once again her and I very alike.

Oh Tim getting that reminder again. *heart clutch.* Sigh my boy. Aaron offering to turn it off for him. I love that he was gonna have it remind him through out the day. Pre-breakup Tim clearly didn't want to forget. Wanted to make sure he not only knew it was but to make sure to make a big deal of it. That's just an assumption on my part but man would've wanted to do that. it's the way he has 'TOMORROW.' Wanting to make sure he didn't forget such an important day. *screams into a pillow.* Aaron asking if he’s gonna get her anything? I’m sure he had stuff in mind. But yeah bad form indeed…

Tim’s sweet smile when he finds out what Aaron got her. Knowing how perfect of a gift that would be for her. That sweet knowing smile makes me wanna weep a bit. He knows his girl so well. Lot of sadness attached to the smile though. 'Can I ask why ya’ll split up?' 'No.' LMAO Took it too far Aaron....You're lucky you got that much good sir.

This scene with Mad Dog hurt my heart for Tim. No matter how wrong he was for what he did I still hate seeing this. This was what I was worried about with him working with Metro. Picking at the wounds he hasn’t even begun to heal about how he left. I knew him making notes on the OP was going to come back and bite him in the ass. Watching all his repercussions is painful to see I have to say. Knowing what we know about Mad Dog later I think that's part of why he goes off on Tim. Doesn't make it any easier to watch though...

Friggin Love Lucy being a BAMF in this episode. Especially in this moment. When she once again corrects but doesn't crush Celina about her gun. It's the way she guides Celina and has control over every situation they encounter in this ep. Proving herself a worthy teacher and leader. Also she was a better teacher to Celina in one episode than Nolan has been her entire career. Dude is a stinker of a T.O. It shows in how Celina makes basic mistakes Lucy had down pat long before this time in her rookie year.

Too bad Lucy can't finish out her training and Nolan is booted. But that'll never happen nothing sticks to that man. Not since S3 premiere. The rules and repercussions are rubber and he's glue. What doesn't stick to him does to everyone else... Grey should really evaluate his teaching skills. But that'll never happen. But she deserves a better teacher than him.

From the minute Tim entered the room something seemed very wrong. From the way Mad Dog was just expecting Tim to flog him. Like he wanted Tim to ream him out for how the OP went down. Also how Mad Dog seemed nervous af to see Dr London. I mean look at that man above. He is scared shitless she is there to see him. The way he watches her though out the scene. Especially when she leaves.

Tim's cop gut is going off like crazy when she enters the room. Wondering how the hell she even know about this? He seems to take her answer at face value because honestly its pretty good considering it's a bold faced lie. Tim once again feeling like something is very off but isn't sure why.

First let me say once again I feel personally attacked by the choice in song once again. lol I couldn't find the song to save my life. The lyrics are *chef kiss.* They're painfully accurate for them both. Think they've been very intentional with their ending music and just in general this season. These lyrics filled me with some hope as well. Jotted down the lyrics since couldn't find the song.

‘When the sun won’t shine and the words don’t rhyme. And there’s mountains you can’t move. Somethings on your mind and it’s been some time-since you felt like you were you. When it all caves in feeling paper thin. And the pain might cut right through.

Oh child, Lift up your head. All this trouble's only gonna last for awhile.’ Yeah we’re gonna be all right oh child. Lift up your head. And the light's gonna find you. When you feel like you ain’t got a friend. And you’re wondering if you ever gonna smile again. Every little thing gonna be ok. I know that you gonna see better days.’ *heart clutch.*

Damn smart of Tim saying happy birthday from Kojo and not him. I’m not crying you are. This was so so sweet. Lucy's reaction to Kojo got me all in my feels. She's so excited to see him. Then that excitement melts into sadness. Because he's an extension of Tim. The way she pet's him and says how much she misses him ugh.

Seems there is a double meaning going on there. We all know despite the hurt how much she misses her person. Tim just standing there only imagining her reaction when Kojo makes his way back. What a way to bring that sweet boy back in. I'm so happy about it. Tim is respecting her space but couldn’t let her bday go without doing something. Had to let her know her was thinking of her still. The fact that it’s happening in the hallway where so many seminal moments have played out for them.... I wanna cry.

I LOVE that Tim got Kojo to put his little paw in ink for the card. It is so sweet. Their fur baby. He put serious thought and effort into this. This was so well done. Only Melissa and Eric could have chemistry without even seeing each other. This is the first time we've really seen Lucy cry about them. 6x06 she was in complete shock. 6x07 was her processing her thoughts/emotions. She was on the verge of tears but we didn't see her cry. This was first time we've seen her shed tears on screen at least since the break up. Wanna hug her so much. She deserved this card and more. Like a real conversation with him but this is a good start.

She knows this is Tim reaching out without physically doing so. Showing her he still cares. I mean he clearly very much does. You don't put thought and effort in like this if you don't. It's a huge thing for him to do right now. Lucy recognizes the effort in this adorable act. Tim's face after she reads the card. Ripping my damn heart out. The absolute regret splayed all over it. Like it’s finally hitting him what he’s done to her. What he’s lost in the process. He gave up his favorite person. His happy place and just it’s hitting him square in his chest.

Like a freight train that’s run him over. It's the way he shakes his head. Kicking himself. Knowing he hastily threw them away. What a mistake he’s made in his irrational decision making. It’s written all over his beautiful face. He may not fully understand yet why he did it but the regret is evident. Eric be killing me. His face screams all that. Knowing he should’ve been with Lucy for her birthday. Hell probably sharing that bath bomb she brought up with her. Killing me softly. Hurts so good. Damnit writers... This is being handled so well though. So hats off to them. They both needed this moment more than either of them knew.

Mad dog killing himself....jesus H Christ. Poor Tim the last thing he needs is this. It explains why he was extra nasty to Tim though. Tim saw the flaw in his play and freaked the hell out. Also for Tim to see someone he once trusted with his life compromise themselves. Compromise the safety of their own men. Gut punch. And for what? Money? Power? We won't know till more of this unravels. Whatever it is won't be for a good reason. I know Tim hates himself for his mistakes. But those mistakes always had some form of honor attached to them.

He may not see that but I do. Now the op where he got his men killed no but what he did after was honorable. What he did for Mitch came from a honorable place. I just wonder how seeing Mad Dog doing something so very un-honorable is gonna affect him moving forward...Oh my lord I’m so mad about Dr London not because I liked her. But because I didn’t want it to derail Tim’s therapy in any way. The man needs it. Here’s hoping he continues in s7 with someone better.

Everyone was right she’s a dirty birdy. I was just hoping she wouldn’t be. But my ick and uncomfortable factor went WAY up in this ep with her. I knew it was inevitable. It's not that I didn't want to be wrong about her. It's the fact I didn't want this to hurt Aaron and I definitely I didn’t want her to be dirty for Tim that was it. For his therapy and the progress he's made. I hope this doesn’t affect his therapy journey and he can find someone not compromised in S7.

That promo for next week oh my lord….the hug! The hug! "This doesn't change anything." Then pulls him right in like nothing's changed. I will be living there from now on. Or until next week lol Love the Finale being a 2 parter as well. Phew this is gonna be an intense ending to this season. Gonna be chomping at the bit for S7 once it's done I know it. Like the song stated we're gonna see better days. I truly believe that. We got this my lovely fandom. Thank you for always being so wonderfully receptive of these reviews. Appreciate any likes, comments or reblogs that come my way.

~~~

Side notes-non Chenford

Angela shooting Monica down with Wesley. She's an Epic Queen and I adore her.

Dr London is in alliance with Monica. That's super great….cool cool cool……I have a feeling and D and I discussed this earlier. Reminds us of Armstrong. This feels more like a she's been forced into it a situation. Because its obvious she's good at her job.

But the way she freaked out about the cops being hurt clearly shook her. She looked on the verge of tears in Mad Dog's room. So do I think she's a bad person? Unsure at the moment. Do I think she was once a good person who was manipulated into whatever this alliance is? I do. Be interesting to see how her SL unfolds.

[ironstrange1991]

Human

Pairing: Defender!Strange x PregnantWife!Reader

Synopsis: Stephen is not acting like himself when he returns from a very hard mission.

Word Count: 1,6k

Warnings: None. Basically the hurt/comfort trope.

A/N: I needed a fic with Stephen being vulnerable and soft and ended up with this. Hope you guys like it.

You liked to think you knew Stephen as well as you knew yourself. You knew when he was happy or sad, when he was tired or excited without him having to say a word to you. And it was exactly Stephen's inability to talk about his feelings that made you get into the habit of reading him so well.

You had been together for a few years, married and expecting your first child and as the weeks progressed and you approached the end of the pregnancy you noticed that Stephen began to become more restless, worried. Work didn't help. In fact, for the past three months work had taken up most of Stephen's time and you believed that was one of the reasons he was so restless. He blamed himself for not spending as much time as he wanted with you.

It was Friday night and you were finishing dinner when Stephen and his Defender friends left the meeting room after being there for hours. They had arrived from a mission that afternoon and locked themselves in that room without you even having time to say hi to your husband.

Hearing the familiar chattering in the entrance hall you went to them in time to say goodbye to Jessica Jones and Clint Barton.

"My god, Y/n you look gorgeous. When will the baby arrive?" Jones asked smiling and trying to look like everything was fine, but you could see from the expressions on Barton and Stephen's faces that something was wrong. Sometimes it happened. Something would go wrong with their missions, and they would return home with those tired and sad faces.

You smiled wrapping your arms around Stephen’s waist. "Later this month. We can't wait." You said glancing at Stephen, but he was serious and just nodded without adding any comment.

When Jones and Barton said goodbye and you were finally alone with your husband you took the time to actually look at him. He was well enough. Some cuts on his face as usual, but what was worrying you was not his physical condition. He seemed tired, yes, but something was off, he was different.

"Are you okay?" You asked a little unsure.

He cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead avoiding your question. "I am going to take a shower." He said pulling away.

"Dinner is ready. I can help you shower..."

"That won't be necessary, baby. I'm sorry, I should have warned you. I'm not hungry. I'm going straight to bed."

You stood there watching him walk away and go up the stairs. You weren't upset because he wouldn't eat, but rather worried about his behavior. Stephen never refused your help when he arrived on a mission. Most of the time he asked you to help him, always eager to have his wife's hands on him.

It was safe to say that by now you had also lost your hunger, so you put all the food in the fridge and went upstairs to find Stephen already in bed, his back resting in a pile of pillows, wearing his reading glasses - which he almost never did in your presence - reading a huge book of spells that he had probably brought with him from Kamar Taj. You sighed, still standing in the doorway and then decided to enter and closed the door behind you.

You went to the bathroom and brushed your teeth and changed out of your clothes into some comfortable pajamas and then went back to the bedroom, but instead of lying down on your side of the bed you stood next to Stephen and held out your hand. "Give me the book. Now is not the time to work. You just arrived and I need to talk to my husband."

He stared at you over his reading glasses and you had to hold yourself back to keep a straight face. He looked so cute when he wore glasses. "I need to find a specific spell..."

"I didn't ask what you needed to do, Stephen. Give me the book."

He sighed, closing the book and handing it into your hands. It was a heavy leather-bound book with symbols that you had no idea what they meant. You placed it on the bedside table and took his reading glasses off, placing them carefully on top of the book.

"I'm fine by the way. I had a great week at work. The baby is fine too. Thank you so much for asking." You said, sitting next to him on the side of the bed.

He ran his hand over his face, sighing heavily. "I'm sorry."

He cupped your face and pulled you to his lips kissing you softly. "Baby, I'm so sorry."

You held his hand on your face.

"Tell me what's going on. I've noticed you've been more taciturn the last few weeks. But I've never seen you like this, Stephen."

He nodded. "I just... I've had a lot of work the last few weeks. I'm tired, that's all."

You didn't believe that. Surely there was something more he didn't want to say.

"I've seen you tired. Hurt, drained of magic, but I've never seen you like this and I need you to tell me what's going on so I can help you."

He took your hands and held them tight in his and then to your astonishment he gave in to a silent cry. You had never seen Stephen cry in all the years you were together. You cupped his face, wiping the tears from his cheek with your thumb.

"Hey! What's wrong? Tell me what's going on."

He sniffed trying to compose himself and then began to speak with a choked voice.

"I'm tired of losing people. Tired of fighting battles that seem to have no end. Tired of seeing innocent people die. This burden is very heavy sometimes and I don't feel like I can carry it at the moment."

You swallowed thickly, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. "You're human, baby. It's normal to feel this way sometimes, there's nothing wrong with that."

He shook his head. "No, I can't. I'm the Sorcerer Supreme, I'm the leader of the Defenders. I don't have the right to succumb because if I do, more people will die and it will be my fault. It's always my fault..."

You shushed him. "Baby that's not true. You always do your best, but it's not possible to save everyone and I'm sorry you feel this way."

You got up and walked around the bed and got comfortable resting your back on a pile of pillows. "Come here. Lay your head in my lap."

He wiped the tears from his face with the back of his hands and surrendered, doing as you asked. You took off the hair tie and started combing the strands gently with your fingers and he let out a heavy sigh.

"Want to tell me what happened on that last mission?"

He shook his head.

"You know you can tell me anything, Stephen."

"I know, but right now I just want to forget everything. I'm so tired. My body is sore from the fight and my head feels like it's going to explode."

You hummed listening and continued stroking his hair. "When was the last time you ate something?"

He did not answer.

"Breakfast? Dinner?" You insisted.

"I don't remember, to be honest."

"Stephen! Let me get you something to eat."

But he held you in place before you could even think about getting up.

"Tomorrow. I don't think I'll be able to hold anything on my stomach tonight, baby. I just want to stay here with you. Please. Want to feel your hands in me."

You sighed, knowing there was no point in insisting.

"You're not going to work tomorrow. I'll talk to Wong in the morning."

He didn't say anything, which made you even more worried. Normally he would have been reluctant to accept your suggestion.

It broke your heart to see Stephen like that. You knew he gave his all to his work, he always put everyone first, in fact that was one of the reasons for your arguments, but it still seemed like it wasn't enough. He overcharged himself, blamed himself for things that weren't his fault. You just wanted him to see himself through your eyes, for him to see himself the way you saw him: a true selfless hero.

"I love you, Stephen. I know you're mad at yourself right now, but I want you to know that I'm proud of you and everything you do to keep me and everyone in this world safe. It's a very heavy burden, baby, but you know I'll always be here to help you carry it."

He turned to look at you. "I love you. So much. More than anything."

You smiled tracing his beard with the tip of your finger. "I know that out there you have to be the Sorcerer Supreme and the Leader of the Defenders, but here, you are allowed to be human, to be Stephen, my sweet husband."

He sighed reaching to touch your cheek.

"There is nothing in the world I want to be more than your husband."

You smiled, holding his hand and lowering it to your belly. "You’re sure?"

And like magic you saw the corner of his lips curl up in a discreet smile that widened and transformed into a wide and beautiful smile when he felt the baby kicking against his hand.

He pressed his lips against your belly and whispered. "I love you so much little one. Can't wait to finally meet you."

You smiled, stroking his hair. "And she loves you. She always starts kicking when she hears your voice. I know she is proud of you just as I am."

Stephen sat up and held your face in his hands. "Thank you, baby, for taking such a good care of me. Everything I do is for my girls."

You leaned in one of his hands. "And I’m so grateful for that. We'll always be here for you in good or bad times. Your two girls will always be here for you.”

Stephen kissed you softly.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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[a-yellow-van]

Wish You Were Here | Part 1

We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year. Running over the same old ground, what have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here.

20 years after the outbreak, you’re a stable, well established member in the community of Jackson, Wyoming. You have been for a long time now, the horrors, the brutality of survival buried deep inside, leaving place to the safe simplicity of routine. You didn’t think there’s anything that could disturb that, after all you’ve been through. That is, until you meet Joel Miller, and a drunken choice leads to…much more. Set in between Part I and Part II. Canon compliant (I'm breaking my own heart)

Series masterlist

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

Fanfic tags : canon compliant, slow burn, romance, eventual smut, angst, hurt/comfort, joel and the reader are terrible at feelings, female reader, no use of y/n, reader is in early 30s, past relationships, trauma/PTSD, grief, loss, post-apocalypse, joel is a good parent to ellie, major character death, original characters, queer characters, bisexual main character, age difference, canon-typical violence

WC for Part 1 : 4.5 k

Warnings for Part 1 : drinking, swearing, implied sexual content

New Year’s Eve 2034. Jackson’s tavern is packed to the brim, people in every corner of the room, almost shoulder to shoulder. It’s hot and humid inside; layers have been shed, revealing patches of sticky skin. A musky, sickly sweet smell assaults your nose : a mix of sweat, booze and dust, making you nostalgic for a time you never knew, before the world fell apart. The windows are fogged up, blocking out the view of snow falling peacefully, coating the street. You’ve rarely seen anything like it. Nearly every adult survivor in the community has seemingly decided to come out tonight, and the fact that Eugene has finally dipped into his batch of mead, home brewed by the barrel, is most certainly to blame. Maria, Jackson’s leader, doesn’t exactly approve, but she’s making an exception. Just for the holiday. You spot her at the back; she’s holding hands with Tommy, her husband, protectively watching over the crowd. Eugene’s feeling particularly generous this evening; he offers a hefty bottle to whoever asks, reminding each lucky recipient to “savour ‘cause she’s been fermenting since July!” You must have heard that sentence a good twenty five times since you got your own bottle, the words getting progressively less intelligible as Eugene indulges in his creation. You’re still not certain why he refers to his mead like it is a woman, and frankly, you’re afraid to find out. One thing’s for sure, the beverage is incredibly strong, has a horrid taste, burning your throat like acid with every drop. It’s questionably safe for consumption, but the occasions to get shitfaced in the midst of an apocalypse are quite limited, so you endure. Even Jackson’s most reclusive members agree with that notion. Including him. Joel Miller. He’s nursing a drink at a table near the bar, opposite to the one you’re sharing with your usual group. You wouldn’t exactly call them friends, but they’re fellow patrollers, close to you in age, so, naturally, you’ve grown familiar. 

“What are you looking at?” Max, the one you’ve known the longest, nudges you with their elbow.

Your gaze quickly snaps back to meet theirs. You realise you’ve been staring at the older man. Noticeably. You don’t quite know why. Maybe he intrigues you, all quiet and pensive in the middle of a rowdy celebration. His expression is hard to read, but there’s a hint of…sadness? You get a hold of yourself and brush off the thought. 

“Nothing,” you lie. Max cocks an eyebrow, a little grin forms on their lips, freckled cheeks dimple. 

“Uh-huh.” There’s a glint of malice in their green eyes. “You sure? No one particular caught your attention?” 

You don’t let their teasing get to you. “Nah. Just checking at Seth trying to hit on Leanne,” you reply without missing a beat, “for the millionth time.” This one isn’t a lie, as the scene really is unfolding a few metres away. You blink at Max, feigning innocence. They narrow their eyes, not buying it. 

“Man, when is he gonna get the hint?” Fred chips in, breaking the unspoken exchange between you and Max. She quickly peeks in the direction of the duo, a muscly arm propped on the back of her chair, long cornrows draped across the other shoulder. She scoffs, and takes a swig of her drink. “She looks like she’s seconds away from kicking him in the balls.”

“Don’t know how she hasn’t done that, like, years ago.” It’s Astrid’s turn to talk. She sighs, shaking her head, her wavy golden blonde hair rustling with the movement. 

“Maybe you should go beat him up for her, A,” Fred jokingly suggests. “Bet she’d like that.”

“Don’t give me ideas,” Astrid responds, seriously. “I’d have him in a wheelchair for the rest of his days.”

“Oh, yeah. And then you and Leanne would run off into the sunset,” Max adds, taking their attention off you, finally. They start screeching in a horrible, high-pitched voice. “Oh, Astrid! Oh, thank you! You saved me from the big, bad man! I lo-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Astrid cuts them off, cheeks reddening. 

“Hmm. I think they hit a little nerve there, A,” Fred continues, laughing, moving her arm to playfully put it around a flustered Astrid. She’s too easy, you think. It’s pretty endearing.  

“Who are you kidding,” you join in Astrid’s torment. “You can’t even say hi to Leanne without stuttering.” The woman gets even redder, the angry tint reaching her pale neck. Fred and Max giggle. “You’re such a teenager,” Max strikes. 

“Just fucking drink.” Astrid commands the three of you, pouring the group another round. 

“Fair enough,” Max says, before clinking glasses with Fred in front of them. Astrid finishes hers in one gulp, which makes her cough, while you sip slowly. The buzz is setting in. It’s nice. It eases the burden on your aching shoulders.

You let your companions carry the conversation as the night progresses, occasionally humming or laughing at a remark. You’re not exactly concentrating. You keep getting drawn back to Joel Miller, for some reason. He arrived in Jackson last summer, about six months ago. Him and a kid, a girl, around fourteen or fifteen. You assumed that was his daughter, but soon learned that you were wrong. People talk, especially in such a small community. Something about Joel smuggling her across the country for the fireflies? A failed operation, clearly. You heard the organisation disbanded since then. It was about time. You’re surprised they lasted that long in the first place. He’s Tommy’s older brother. There’s history there, you know some of it; Joel already had a bit of a reputation before ever passing through Jackson’s gates. He hasn’t done much to help it since then; he barely interacts with anyone besides Tommy and Ellie, the girl. He keeps to himself, brooding, silently observing, tough, cold, detached. That’s how Joel’s treated you on the few patrols you’ve had to go on together these past months. He usually works with Tommy, you usually work with Max, but Maria likes to switch around the schedule occasionally to test out different pairings. You and Joel have done a very efficient job, only speaking when absolutely necessary, technical terms only, mumbling salutations. However, on the last patrol, in early December, you made a great shot at a stalker, and you could have sworn Joel’s mouth twitched in approval. It was so short it might have been a product of your imagination, but then, after coming back to Jackson and bringing your horses to the stable, he mumbled your last name instead of his usual grunt goodbye. It’s fair to assume there’s mutual respect for each other’s skill there. Nothing else. So then, why does your gaze keep returning to his tousled, greying curls, scruffy beard, piercing brown eyes, and the scar on his left temple? Maybe it’s the alcohol. Yeah, that must be it-

Joel’s eyes suddenly lock with yours. Your heart skips a beat, making you choke on your drink. Shit. What the hell was that? Fred immediately interrupts the story she’s telling and you feel three pairs of eyes on you. You clear your throat, looking down at the table. 

“Sorry. Went down the wrong pipe,” you mutter. They keep staring. “Uh, Fred, what were you-”

And then, as if the universe takes pity on you, Mike, Jackson’s butcher, jovial fellow in his early sixties (but barely a wrinkle creasing his dark skin) claps loudly and calls out over the incessant chatter. 

“How about some music, huh?” A few supporters acclaim him. He pushes through the crowd, reaching the old console piano standing at the south wall, underneath a window. Around, some tables have been stored away, allowing some space for dancing. The instrument is in poor shape, the keys are yellowed, a pedal has fallen off. Mike sits on the worn piano bench. Most survivors in the tavern have momentarily lowered their volume, following the man’s moves. He tries a little riff. Not as bad as was expected, just slightly off tune. You know he’ll make it work. “Alright. Get ready to groove, everyone!” He plays the intro to Johnny B. Goode by Chuck Berry perfectly, earning cheers and applause. Chair legs scrape on the ground, glasses and bottles are snatched up as the crowd converge around Mike. 

“Woo! Come on!” Fred exclaims. She stands and takes Astrid’s arm, forcing her patrol partner up. Astrid resists, but just for the principle, a beaming smile on her face. The pair leaves, already bobbing their heads to the rhythm. Max takes another shot before shuffling away from the table on legs rendered wobbly by the booze. They hold their hand out to you, but you don’t take it yet. You dare look over at a certain someone again, who is grounded in his seat, indifferent to the change of mood. Max wiggles their fingers impatiently.

“I’ll, uh- I’ll join you later,” you say, averting their eyes. 

“Ugh. Fine. You suck,” they reply.

You raise your middle finger in response. They turn away abruptly, flashing the back of their frayed jean vest, the sleeves cut off by hand. Max catches up with Astrid and Joey, and you watch as they start dancing, snorting at how uncoordinated the three are. You’ve downed a good five drinks now. One more won’t do any harm, right? You fill up your glass with the last drops of mead from the current bottle. Warmth spreads through your veins, making your head throb in a pleasant way. Your eyelids are heavy, your surroundings blurred. Something is clear, though. You and Joel are amongst the very few survivors that aren’t taking part in the fun. Hell, even Maria’s letting her husband spin her around. 

And then it happens again. Joel meets your gaze. But this time, he holds it for a couple of seconds, before looking to the side and rubbing his chin. Almost like he’s doing it on purpose. You must be drunker than you thought, because that makes no fucking sense. And what your clouded brain makes you do next is even less logical. Slowly, you rise, and walk unsteadily to the now deserted bar, heading towards Joel. Your heart picks up its pace. This is so stupid . You sit down at one of the stools, just a few feet away from him. You lean over the counter, resting your head in your hand, staring straight ahead at the row of vintage bottles aligned on a shelf behind the bar. On the piano, Mike has moved on to I’m Still Standing by Elton John, his voice strong, smooth. You catch a glimpse of Joel in your peripheral. He’s tensed up ever so slightly, his back straightened. He’s aware of your presence. This is so stupid.

“Hey, Miller,” you hear yourself speak, still looking ahead, but loud enough he can hear you. 

He sighs. That’s something. He hasn’t gotten up and walked away, he hasn’t told you to get lost. He’s acknowledged you. It’s full of irritation, sure, but it gives you enough motivation to keep going. 

“Not a fan of the music?” You attempt a sultry tone and make yourself cringe. Great start. Joel grunts, takes a swig of mead and crosses a leg over the other, nonchalant. 

“Yeah, I didn’t exactly peg this as your scene,” you continue, gesturing vaguely at the crowd. The booze has taken the reins, and you can’t hold your tongue. 

A full minute passes in silence. You’re about to give up. And then Joel talks, gruff, sarcastic, the inebriation accentuating the southern drawl in his voice. “Right. And like you’d know, of all people.”   

A sentence. Joel Miller just spoke a full sentence to you. You’re stunned.  

“Fair point,” you recover after a few seconds. “You just, uh, don’t really seem like the social type.” A pause. You feel Joel’s gaze burning the back of your neck. “No offence,” you add.

“None taken.” Joel downs the rest of his drink, exhales. “You’re not dancin’ either,” he observes. 

“Perceptive,”  you retort. You spin on your stool, now facing him. A corner of his mouth curves upwards almost imperceptibly. It goes back down immediately, but you caught it. And it gives you a boost of confidence. You’ve made the grumpy bastard smile, or, well, the closest to it he can probably manage. 

“Why not?” he questions. “Your friends looks like they’re havin’ fun.” He nods his chin over at Max, who’s gone up to the piano and is belting the lyrics to the song, stomping their feet, while Mike plays the melody. Two things : first, Joel knows who you hang out with, which means he’s not completely oblivious to who you are, and second, he’s making conversation with you. Astonishing. 

“Guess I’d rather be bothering you.” You shrug, trying to suppress a smile. “Thought you’d have cursed me out by now, if I’m honest.”

Joel scratches his forehead. “Dunno why I haven’t,” he mumbles. 

“Maybe you should.” Did you really just say that? Did you just try to flirt with him? And why did his gaze flicker to your lips?

He looks back up and narrows his eyes at you. “Nah. You don’t want that.” 

You don’t miss a beat. “Hey, I could take it.” You’re maintaining eye contact from your seat at the bar. “I’m tough.” Well, this is happening. Damn Eugene and his mead .

The ever-so-subtle smirk passes over Joel’s face for the second time. He shakes his head.  “Don’t wanna make you cry.” 

“Hm. How considerate,” you reply, unable to fight a little smile. Joel emits a short, low, rumbling sound. 

“Was that a laugh?” You ask, the smile growing larger. 

“Hm. No.” He goes right back to irritation. But still, he’s not pushing you away. So, in your drunken state, you decide to test the limits. You slip off the stool and take a step towards Joel. He furrows his brows, but doesn’t say anything. You take another step, and then another, until you reach his table. There’s no going back now. 

“Uhm, mind- mind if I sit?” 

“Are you really gonna leave if I say no?” He asks, rhetorically. He’s challenging you. You feel your cheeks heat up and your stomach drop. You pull the chair out and settle on it. You’re suddenly very conscious of your near proximity to Joel. The courage you had mere minutes ago is disappearing; you have to fuel it up. You grab an empty, upside-down glass sitting near two bottles of mead, one empty, one half full. Joel is acting quite coherent for a man who’s had that much. You tilt your head in request. 

Joel scoffs. “Go ahead.” 

You pour yourself a seventh drink, knowing perfectly well that it is an absolutely terrible idea. You down most of it in one gulp, wincing, before putting the glass back down with a thud. 

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” Joel asks, the nickname dripping with irony. Still, your stomach does another flip. “Can’t hold your liquor?” He mocks. He leans back in his chair, legs open, right hand on his knee, left hand palm down on the table. Your gaze travels from his face, down his neck, to his broad chest where the small unbuttoned portion of his flannel reveals a few dark hairs. What the hell are you doing? Your eyes snap back up

“Fuck off,” you mutter under your breath. Joel looks pleased with himself. You finish your drink, looking straight at him, taunting.

“What was that?” he asks, even though he heard you perfectly. His smug smirk is assured now. You don’t answer. Joel fills up his glass. You take it as a sign that he intends to see this interaction through. Fine by you. You search the depths of your sluggish brain to find something witty to say.

“So, Miller. What’s with the accent?” This is the best you can come up with. The words are slurred. 

He scoffs again. “Don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout,” he says, pointedly adding your last name. He’s playing you.

“Ah, come on, cowboy ” you continue, impressed by your own audacity, “Where you from?” 

Tommy has mentioned this to you before. Definitely somewhere south, but you can’t recall in your current state. And you want to hear Joel say it. 

He rolls his eyes at the nickname, but he doesn’t stop smirking. “Texas. Austin.” He takes a sip. “You?” 

Texas. Right. Makes sense. In a way, you feel proud to have gotten this minimal piece of information out of him. You didn’t think you’d ever witness Joel Miller opening up to you, not even a tiny crack. But here you are.  

“Washington. Seattle.” You copy the structure of his answer; Joel nods, casual. “Uh, you’re a long way from home,” you add.

“Yup.” He doesn’t elaborate. Takes yet another sip. “Seattle, huh?” His gaze pierces through you, eyebrows knitted in reflection. “Born and raised?”

“Yeah…” You’re not certain what he’s getting at. 

“There’s a QZ, right?” A pause. “D’you end up in it?” he questions. 

The words are like a slap in the face, sobering you up a little. You don’t want to think of that right now. Not at all. You look down, fidgeting with your empty glass. 

“Hmm,” you confirm. 

“Damn. Heard things got pretty bad up there,” Joel says. You wish he’d just shut up. You don’t like this turn the conversation took. 

“Yeah, well, I left, so.” The sentence comes out harsher than you had planned. Joel understands the message; he raises his hands up in defence.  

“Got it. Sorry I asked.” The guy doesn’t look one bit apologetic. It frustrates you, and yet…You’re enjoying this little game. 

“Yeah, watch it, Miller,” you warn, but your tone has gone back to being playful. Joel relaxes in his seat. He rests an elbow on his denim-encased thigh, shifting his weight. 

You proceed. “So what’d you do? In Texas?”

“Hm. Contractor.” He really is a man of few words. His past occupation suits him like a glove.

“Fitting.” You give him an unimpressed pout; he stays unbothered. 

“Yeah, yeah. What’d you do, then?” He asks. 

It makes you chuckle. “Uh, middle school student. 6th grade sucked ass.”

Joel takes a second to register. Something quickly washes over his face, an emotion you can’t quite discern, before vanishing. You’re too drunk to analyse it. 

“Huh. I would have guessed elementary,” he states. 

“Aw. Don’t flatter me,” you reply, dryly. 

“I’m not. Just sayin’ you don’t seem like you’ve learned much past fourth grade,” Joel says with a shit-eating grin. 

Wow. You’re speechless. And then you burst out laughing. And, miraculously, Joel starts chuckling with you, the corner of his eyes crinkling. The sound is hearty, surprisingly warm. It’s the kind of laughter that you would try your hardest to hear as often as possible. That could make you all fuzzy inside, if you’d let it. And just like that, the tension that had been building between the two of you breaks. It’s comfortable, you’re at ease. The moment stretches out; you feel a strange connection with Joel, and you wonder if it’s mutual, or if you’re going completely insane. It’s probably the second option. You manage to utter a few profanities, between two breaths. Joel watches, amused, waiting for you to calm down. 

“Alright, you’ve got me there,” you concede, a smile lingering on your lips. 

Joel’s expression has softened. He looks younger, somehow, like a few years of constant stress have been erased just by talking with you. 

“I may not be the brightest, but at least I can take a joke.” 

“You’re not wrong there.” Joel fills your glass with the remnants of the mead, while you push a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to conceal a blush. “You deserve it,” he explains, “if you can take another round.” 

“You keep underestimating me.” You raise your glass up in the air. 

Joel imitates you. “No hard feelings?” He suggests. 

“Deal.” You clink Joel’s glass with your own, and tilt your head back to swallow the foul liquid as quickly as you can, your gut churning in protest. You groan.  

“Think my estimation was correct, actually,” Joel quips. You look over at him. Besides a slight glaze over his eyes, he appears unaffected by the alcohol.

“How are you doing this?” You ask, baffled.

He shrugs. “You’ll get there eventually.” 

“And by there, you mean kidney disease?” You naively bat your eyelashes at him. 

“I’ve survived worse,” he remarks. It’s lighthearted, but it hides a bleak truth you know all too well. You ignore it. 

“Yeah. It shows.” You tease, giving him a scrutinising up-and-down.

“Hm. Funny. You didn’t seem to mind it that much when you were starin’ earlier.”

Jesus Christ.

Game over. Joel wins, one million to zero. You want to bash your head against the table, or run very far away, preferably out of Wyoming. And get torn apart by clickers. Instead, you stay right where you are, mouth agape, cartoonish. Fucking idiot. Are you twelve?

“That’s not- I- I- wasn’t-” 

Joel is delighted by your reaction. 

You wisely decide to shut up and quit stuttering. As if on cue, Mike hits the iconic intro to Don’t Stop Me Now. Max starts singing dramatically, in an offensively bad Freddie Mercury impression. Some survivors join in, not a single one on key, resulting in a cacophony. You take it as an opportunity to get out of the situation. You scramble off the chair and start walking away, stumbling and catching yourself on a nearby table. 

“Where you goin’? We weren’t done.” Joel calls after you. You turn around. 

“Me? Oh just stretching my legs.” You start stepping side to side and swaying your shoulders, following the rhythm. “Showing some love to the artists.” You shoot two fingers at him, moving your arms to the music. Joel shakes his head, chuckling. “You’re terrible.”

“Well then why don’t come here and try to do better!” You shout back, doing a ridiculous twirl as the sheer quantity of mead you ingested finally hits you. The room spins, transforming into blobs of colour. So, you close your eyes, and you flail around carelessly, your mind too foggy to worry. The tempo of the song increases. 

I'm burning through the sky, yeah! Two hundred degrees, that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit-

Suddenly, there’s a presence next to you. You crack your eyes open, checking on who’s intruding. Joel is standing about three feet away from you, hands awkwardly shoved in his pockets. His left heel is tapping the beat. 

“S’a good song,” he mumbles. 

Joel Miller, nervous to dance with you? Anything truly is possible tonight. You approach him, not interrupting your dance. He stays put. You two are away from the crowd, and it feels like you’re alone in the tavern with him, like no one can see you. 

I'm travelling at the speed of light, I wanna make a supersonic man outta you!

As Max puts all of his might into the chorus, you get closer to Joel, because he lets you, close enough that you could reach out and take his hands if you wanted to. And you do, but they’re hidden in his pockets. So you keep dancing, wiggling your hips, jumping up and down. Joel still isn’t budging, but you feel his gaze on you, eyeing your bare arms, the tattoo right under your left clavicle, and going lower down your chest…You take a step towards the man. 

“Who’s staring now?” You hadn’t planned to say that out loud, but it’s too late. You take another step, now inches from Joel’s  chest, which is rising and falling faster than before. His lips are parted, his eyes intense. It’s now or never. Fuck it.   

Your right hand moves up to rest on Joel’s shoulder, causing him to tense up. His expression goes stern, serious, like he’s fighting an internal conflict, debating whether he should pull away. Yet, he remains still. So your left hand goes to his other shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes. He holds your gaze, then inhales like he’s about to say something.

A clunking noise interrupts him, shattering the moment. Your arms fall back to your sides and you glance over Joel’s shoulder, searching for the source of the disturbance. You find it easily. Astrid is standing near the table your group had claimed before, her hair thrown in a ponytail, face glistening with sweat, the sleeves of her sweater pushed up. Her water gourd lays on the ground, its content spilled. Her eyes are wide with surprise, jumping between you and Joel. Her mouth contorts in a silent, one worded question. 

That’s bad. That is very bad.  

Joel notices the shift in your attitude and whips his head around, as a snickering Astrid jogs up to the crowd, merging into it again, certainly to tell Fred about what she just stumbled upon. Joel turns back and leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers:

“Outside. Now.” 

His breath tickles your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Something stirs in your lower abdomen; a longing, a desire that demands to be dealt with, urgently. 

Joel snatches his coat from the back of the chair he sat in, before striding towards the exit. You follow behind, docile, not bothering to retrieve your own jacket. Once you’re out of the tavern, the freezing wind barely even pinches your skin. You’re too preoccupied with another feeling that’s dangerously rising up inside. You need his touch. And you get what you want. Joel grabs your forearm, and drags you to the alleyway at the side of the building, lit up by a single, flickering street lamp. In a second, your back is pressed against the logs, Joel’s face taking up your entire field of vision. He’s seething with anger. His pointed finger digs into your sternum. 

“You- you- ” he growls. You look back at him like a deer in headlights.

And then he kisses you. Hard. His lips crash onto yours and you let out a startled yelp, jerking your head to the side. Joel stares, anticipating your reaction. You don’t let him wait for long before you kiss back. His hands glide down to your waist, gripping it, while yours go to the nape of his neck. You pull each other in and a burning heat spreads between your bodies. Time seems to slow down as you part your lips to deepen the kiss, letting his tongue in. He tastes bittersweet like the mead. Your heart races. An ache forms where your thighs meet.

Just as suddenly as he came in, Joel shoves you away roughly. Your head bounces on the tavern’s facade. He storms out of the alley without another word, leaving you alone in the cold, panting, riled up, confused. 

What the fuck just happened?

Next chapter

To read on AO3

[whore-era]

little orange bottle

☁︎ modern!ellie williams x fem!reader, fluff/comfort ☁︎ themes/TW: depression/depressive episode, prescription medication use, mental health, crying, appetite issues, etc, established relationship, girlfriend!ellie, use of fem nicknames ☁︎ summary: in which your girlfriend always reminds you to take your meds and supports you through your mental health journey. ☁︎ a/n: this is a little bit self insertion bc i may or may not have been late on taking meds (take your MEDS!!) n this is a comfort fic for us babies who do take meds for mental health purposes or whatever reason. experiences described in this fic is solely based on mine :) ☁︎ word count: 1,809 - not proofread

"make sure you take them, as directed, and on time. sound good?"

you nod, biting your lip, rotating the small, orange bottle in your hand. god, who could even pronounce a name like that? the name of the medication sounded so....chemical.

"that's also a 30 day supply, alright? when you run out, make sure you contact me or the pharmacy, and we can get you a fresh batch," the doctor spoke. but you could barely respond, overwhelmed with emotion. you couldn't help the tears watering in your eyes.

"hey. depression is a manageable condition. you will be able to live life, as long as you know how to manage it in a way that works for you," the doctor puts her hands on top of yours, "sometimes its medication, sometimes its self care, sometimes its journaling or going for walks.."

you sniffle and wipe your eyes with your sleeve, "thank you, means a lot."

"of course. you can do this. i believe in you." i can do this.

as you make the walk from the doctors office to ellie's car, a bundle of nerves bubbled in your stomach. you weren't sure how this new medication would affect you and ellie's relationship. surely, there was nothing to worry about, as ellie had been extremely supportive of you during this turbulent time. she was the one who suggested to get help in the first place, an idea you'd forever be grateful for.

"please, ellie, i just want to be alone," you murmur.

she just came home from work and was shocked to see you still in bed, with the curtains drawn and all the lights closed, laying in the dark.

"baby...what's been goin' on?" ellie whispers softly, sitting on the edge of the bed, her fingers slowly stroking the bare skin on your shoulder.

"jus' don't feel like doing anything anymore, called out of work for this week," you mutter, burying your head back in the deep fluff of the pillow.

ellie's brows drew together in worry. she was starting to feel concerned for you. at first, she thought it was just sadness that you were feeling as you sulked around the house in your pajamas with your messy bun, shoveling your favorite ice cream in your mouth.

but as the weeks progressed, ellie would soon observe that what you were going through was much more than simply 'feeling sad'.

when you would come home from work, you would just lock yourself in your shared bedroom, reeling in sleep instead. when you were off, you wouldn't want to do anything but stay cooped up under the covers of your blanket — as if you lost interest in all the hobbies that gave you joy. ellie noticed that you barely ate or drank water, only coming out of the bedroom to use the toilet. it wasn't until she noticed that you weren't even changing your clothes or showering, than she comprehended the gravity of the situation.

"come here, sweet girl. tell me what's been on your mind," ellie laid on the mattress, pressing her body against yours and wrapping her arm tightly around your waist.

"i don't know what's been going on with me, els," you mumble, a slight crack in your voice, "i jus' have no motivation to do anything. i don't look forward to doing anything— i'm just tired all the time and—” tears begin to fall down your cheeks, "i don't know what to do anymore."

it pained ellie to see you like this — hopeless. she knew she had to do something, to be there for you.

ellie kissed the skin behind your neck, blinking away her own tears, "alright, baby, i hear you," she whispered against your hair, "i think you need to get some help, professional help. you have to talk to someone."

"i think so too, els."

ellie lifted herself off the mattress with her elbows, hovering over your body, "we'll worry about that in the morning. tonight, we'll take a nice, warm shower, get some hot food in your belly, and watch a funny movie. sound nice, pretty girl?"

after thinking for awhile, you nod, and ellie plants a soft kiss upon your lips, and helps you get up to the bathroom.

she peeled off your clothes, and you both got in the hot, steamy shower. ellie was careful and steady in handling you. she massaged your scalp with your favorite shampoo, lathering it in suds, and making sure to moisturize the ends of your hair with a hair mask after rinsing off all the shampoo (a step she knew you would've cussed at her for if she forgot). her hands squeezed body wash onto the shower cloth, gently massaging the frothy fabric all over your skin, covering it in a layer of fragrant, bubbles.

after cleaning both of you up, ellie helped you dress in some comfy clothes (her clothes), and cooked one of your favorite meals, filling up your belly with some much needed delicious comfort and turning on a funny film as you both dug in.

opening the passenger seat door of her car, you plopped in the seat.

"how was it?"

"was okay. cried in front of the doctor, but besides that, she was really nice about it," your hands opened the paper bag, taking out the little orange bottle, "she prescribed me this.

ellie took the bottle from your hands, giving it a gentle shake, and reading the label, "holy shit, sounds like a fuckin' harry potter spell or something."

you shrug, "doctor says i have to take it everyday, same time."

"good thing you have a very loving and annoying girlfriend to help with that."

-

you were sitting on the couch, cuddled up against ellie, watching reruns of your favorite show and snacking on your favorite chips. her phone began going off, playing that annoying default 'radar' alarm. she took her phone from her pocket, and smiled.

"time to take your meds, baby!" she enthused, showing you her phone, the screen reading 'medication time 😎'.

you groaned, not wanting to move from your comfortable position, "uuugggghhh, ellie, i'm comfy right here. i don' wanna get up."

"then i'll go," ellie says, standing up, leaving you to plant face first on the cushions of the sofa.

what a sweet girlfriend you had.

-

ellie had been wanting to try this new brunch place that just opened, and just by the luck of the draw, you had secured a reservation for sunday morning.

perusing through the menu, you settled on the idea of having the strawberries and cream french toast with eggs and sausage. your mouth was already watering at the thought of the sustenance hitting your taste buds.

"what are you getting?" you prod, looking up at your girlfriend.

she appeared to be deep in thought, like she was contemplating a life-altering decision, "i have no idea. i'm stuck between the nashville hot chicken and waffles or the kitchen sink omelette. fuck, didn't think this was gonna be so hard."

you giggled, "if your appetite allows it, maybe get both?"

as ellie was about to respond, that dang alarm went off again. she opened her phone and showed you her screen, 'medication time 😎'.

you rolled your eyes, and unzipped your bag, rummaging through its contents. biting your lip, the realization settled into you.

"i didn't bring it with me, i think i forgot it, els," you mention, worry in your tone, "ugh, i'm so dumb. i think i left it on the kitchen counter? i dunno— maybe if i leave right now i can—"

"babe." ellie snaps you out of your thoughts, taking out the little orange bottle and placing it on the table.

your heart swelled in your chest. she remembered to bring it?

"you...brought it?" you questioned.

"of course, had to make sure you took it. gotta take care of my girl."

-

the side effects of the medication took you by surprise — especially heightened emotions.

all it took was watching one tiktok video of a very fluffy australian sheperd celebrating her 12th birthday, and you were a goner.

"ellie! she's an old lady!!" you babbled like a baby, and all ellie could do was hold you and stroke the spine of your back as you cried into her sweatshirt.

"yeah, baby, i know, i know," she cooed in your ear, rocking you back and forth.

"she's all gray and old— and, and— she moves so slow, ellie. w-why—" you used a tissue to blow your nose, "—w-why do d-dogs have to get o-old?"

"because, sweet girl, they age like humans too," ellie grabs your face and kisses your wet cheeks, "but hey, think of it like this, she spent her very long, long life being loved by her family. love is all shes ever known."

you look up at her with big glossy eyes, calming down from your little breakdown, "y-yeah, i guess you're right."

"besides, she's still alive, baby. don't worry. she's not gone, yet." oops, ellie shouldn't have said that, knowing too well you were a ticking time bomb.

you exploded into a ball of tears, sobbing louder than ever before, "ELLIE!!! WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT!!"

ellie scrambled around, trying to calm your nerves, and also hoping that mrs. chu, the little old lady in the apartment next door, couldn't hear you through the thin walls.

-

after a difficult day at work, you unlocked the door to your apartment.

luckily it was friday, and you were off for the weekend.

the doctor said on days like these, self care is important.

you treated yourself to a lovely bubble bath with a glass of wine, and then you ordered take-out from you and ellie's favorite mom and pop shop.

as you waited for ellie to come home, you opened your journal and wrote down some affirmations.

i am confident.

i am strong.

i am beautiful.

i am loved.

i am protected.

i love myself unconditionally.

"hey, pretty thing, what'cha doin'?" ellie greets you with a kiss on your cheek, plopping down on the sofa next to you.

"just had a hard day at work today— needed to remind myself of some things," you say, closing your journal and placing it down on the coffee table.

"yeah? any way i can help, babe?"

you shake your head, "nope, just you being here is enough for me," you chide as you lean over to press your lips against hers.

"i can definitely do that," ellie says, smiling as she pulls away, "just remember, healing is never linear, okay? there will be easy days and some will be harder than others. as long as you take care of yourself and surround yourself with support, it'll be okay. and if everything isn't okay, that's fine too. just as long as you move forward."

if u deal w a mental health condition or something of the sort, remember ur not alone and help is always there when u need it! u are very loved and appreciated <3 and if u take meds, remember to take them!! ily bestie

xoxo frankie <3