#they are the reason this fic makes any sense. or exists in the first place!! thx friend!!

[nooomagnus]

black irises in the sunshine (a noir au)

a @tlt-big-resurrection fic! ft. art by @rhywhitefang @nakji and @ellevenstar and cosplay by @abhorsenkatiel!

Nova & Co Private Investigations is the best damn detective agency in all of New Canaan—and strictly a one-woman operation. No one can match Harrowhark’s sleuthing instincts, commitment to uncovering the truth, gritty aesthetic, or willingness to sleep in the office every night. But when Harrow gets shot (again) while working to expose corruption at City Hall, her friend Palamedes goes behind her back to hire her some muscle. The person who shows up on her doorstep is mouthy, annoying as hell, and distractingly attractive: exactly the opposite of what Harrow needs. But when an heiress with a mysterious corpse and a hefty purse takes a liking to her new bodyguard, Harrow is forced to keep Gideon Nav around. The good news: Harrow only has to work with Gideon until she’s cracked the case. Once she’s busted this thing wide open, they never have to see each other again….right?

coming this friday (8/4) to an ao3 near you!

[theetherealbloom]

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM

Chapter One: I Know He's Crazy, But He's The One I Want

Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.

Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking around, FLUFF, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Kissing, Barely any plot, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content,

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: Happy “The Tortured Poets Department” release! I couldn’t help but shriek with joy when I heard But Daddy I Love Him. Literally, dad best friend Joel Miller coded. I would like to thank @wheresarizona for dealing with my spam in her messages from me as I was yapping about the new album and gushing over her writing; she’s literally one of the best writers ever. That is a fact and I will die on that hill.

This fic is heavily inspired by all of the dad's best friend books and dbf!Joel Miller fics I have read over the years. It is with great honor (and a lot of fucking fear) to present to you this Frankenstein of all of my fav tropes!

Heads up, I’m actually dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift

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As you walk past the neighboring house, you observe the real estate agent meticulously placing the 'SOLD' banner onto the weathered for sale sign. A strange sense of satisfaction washes over you, knowing that someone has finally purchased the property.

Entering your home, you release a sigh of relief as the familiar comfort washes over you. With a casual toss, your keys and bag find their place on the hallway table. The urge to call out to your dad bubbles up, but it freezes in your throat when you're met with an unexpected sound drifting from his home office.

Your heart quickens as you peek inside, only to find your dad's best friend, Joel Miller, lounging on the plush brown lazy boy. His deep, resonant voice fills the room, sending shivers down your spine even before you lay eyes on him.

Clutching the doorframe for support, you fight to steady your nerves. With trembling fingers, you manage to force a smile onto your lips, though it feels strained. "Hey, Dad. Hey… Joel," you manage to squeak, the mere sound of his name stirring a flurry of emotions within you.

The room feels stiflingly quiet as you wait for a response, the weight of Joel's gaze almost tangible. You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as his intense eyes meet yours. His attention feels almost palpable, his gaze lingering on you in a way that sends a rush of warmth through your body. With a low, almost imperceptible grunt of acknowledgment, Joel's gaze finally breaks away, leaving you breathless in his wake.

You try to avert your gaze out of sheer habit, but it's futile, like trying not to be drawn to the most captivating, exquisite sight in existence.

God, it's as if he's been carved from pure perfection, each time you lay eyes on him.

That same intense, brooding look he wore the day of your college graduation, late last year, still grips you. And it seems Joel's gaze has the same effect on your dad, eliciting a familiar reaction. With a quick double-take, your dad shoots a glance at his best friend before swiveling in his seat.

"Hey there, sweetheart, just catching up with Joel. He dropped by for a surprise visit," your dad starts, but he halts mid-sentence, noticing your undeniable reaction. Concern etches his features as he addresses you. "Honey?" he prompts, his voice laced with worry, as you struggle to find your voice for the umpteenth time in mere seconds.

Joel's gaze narrows, his jaw clenching as his intense scrutiny roams over you, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

As you cling to the doorframe, you can't help but notice the subtle movement of Joel's prominent Adam's apple, betraying his own unease.

Breaking the tension, your dad's nervous chuckle pierces the silence, attributing my apparent moodiness to your usual banter. He turns back to Joel, commenting on his friend's expression.

"What's going on with you two?" he quips, his tone shifting from light-hearted to serious in an instant. "Feels like there's some dirty secret between you," your dad adds, the jest evaporating from his voice. Yet, Joel remains unfazed by your dad's observation, his gaze still locked onto you as a faint smile curves his lips.

His lips curl into a smirk, accentuating the charming dimple that appears in his slightly scruffy beard whenever he smiles—a sight that never fails to tug at your heartstrings.

But as your dad's suspicion lingers in the air, Joel's demeanor shifts, yet you still struggle to connect the dots regarding why he's been giving you that look since graduation.

That day was meant to mark a pivotal moment in your life, celebrating the culmination of years of hard work in college. Yet, Joel's presence, the way he gazed at you, and the unexpected intensity of his hug during the congratulations... It's forever etched in your memory for reasons beyond the academic achievement.

And at the center of it all is one word: Joel.

He's a towering figure, a mix of solid muscle and the comforting softness of his belly. In the moment, you brushed off his tight embrace after receiving your diploma as merely the enthusiasm of the occasion.

But as you felt his whole body pressing right into yours during that hug, you knew it wasn’t your regular type of embrace.

“I’m so proud of you, darlin’,” he whispered in your ear. And though you didn’t catch his next words as clearly, you're certain he said something else that day. “…You feel so fuckin’ good….”

At least, that's what you've been convincing yourself he said. You recall gazing up into those big brown eyes, the same intense look he's giving you now, and wondering the same thing. How could an older, dangerously attractive man like Joel be even remotely interested in someone like you? Apart from being your dad’s best friend, he's more than twice your age and lives on the other side of the country with his daughter, Sarah.

You can almost picture the scandalized gasps of the single older women and ex-wives in your town, clutching their pearls and whispering, "What a mess," if you and Joel ever got together; if he was even remotely interested in you like that.

But you've replayed that scene in your mind every day since, and no matter how hard you try, there's just no denying your secret crush on him.

It all started long before college, your feelings for Joel simmering beneath the surface. Back then, you couldn't quite grasp what it was you felt for him. All you knew was that it felt right, and that feeling remains unchanged. Despite the nerves and shyness that being around him brings, there's another undeniable effect he has on you.

Like the overwhelming desire to sink back and beg him to indulge in things that his best friend's daughter probably shouldn't be fantasizing about. It's been a while since you last saw Joel, but he still exudes the same charm and looks even more handsome and fit than before, thanks to his job in construction as a contractor.

And when you receive that same look from him today, when your dad even jokes about his suspicions, you know Joel remembers that day too. The intensity in his eyes mirrors the moment he pulled you close, a memory etched as your most cherished moment so far.

"Well, I reckon’ my presence here might come as a bit of a surprise," Joel rasps, his gaze locked with yours as he emits a low chuckle for your dad's benefit. Unnoticed by your dad, Joel shoots you a sly wink, and you watch as your dad's tension melts away. He's relieved to know he wasn't imagining things, and undoubtedly thrilled once he hears Joel's news. "I'm moving here, right next door with Sarah. Tommy should be dropping her off here tomorrow," he announces with enthusiasm, but you feel the pit of your stomach drop.

Joel... here? For good? Oh, fuck.

Your dad erupts into loud whoops, raising both hands in the air. "It's about time, buddy! I knew you were keeping something from me," he adds, turning to you once again. "You were aware of this?" he asks, furrowing his brow with a hint of confusion. 

"You knew Joel and Sarah were coming to town, didn’t you?" Dad repeats, finally grinning like a child at the news. Smiling like a dad who's pushed aside any notion of his best friend showing interest in his only daughter. And you catch a sly grin on Joel’s face as he comes to your rescue. "Oh, I mentioned I might pay a visit. Buttercup here wasn't aware of the specifics or that Sarah and I would be relocatin’ back here," he explains to your dad.

But when Joel smoothly fibs to your dad, insinuating that you were aware of his impending move back to town, even though it caught you completely off guard, he seals an instant and secret pact between the two of you with a single glance. His deep brown eyes wink at you, sending a thrilling shiver down your spine. You realize you're in deeper trouble than you initially thought. And strangely enough, it's the kind of trouble you welcome with open arms.

In that fleeting moment, a silent understanding passes between you and Joel. With just a wink from him, your chest flutters with excitement, and a wave of anticipation rushes through you, leaving you feeling unexpectedly aroused at the prospect of having him nearby all the time. You're fully committed now, Joel's lie to his best friend serving as a shield for both of you, deflecting attention away from the undeniable tension between you.

"Sarah called last week," you fabricate, deciding to play along with Joel's deception. "As we were chatting, Joel mentioned something about visiting. It must've slipped my mind to mention it to you," you explain to your dad, hoping he'll buy into the white lie. Joel's low growl of contentment as he leans back, causing the leather chair to creak, reassures you that he approves of your little ruse.

Your dad's elation at the news of his best friend's return to their quaint little town is palpable, enough to overshadow any scolding he might have had for your omission about Sarah and Joel's supposed call.

But the truth remains: Sarah never called, and Joel's mysterious behavior is raising more questions than answers.

A surprise visit is one thing, but the intensity of Joel's gaze? The way he makes you feel? It's enough to give your long-standing crush on him a serious run for its money.

"But damn, Sarah will be here tomorrow?" your dad groans before chuckling. "A bit more notice would've been nice, but hell, it'll be good to see you, buddy."

"Listen, I've got something I can't postpone tomorrow. Maybe my daughter here could accompany you to pick up Sarah from the airport?" your dad suggests, turning his attention towards you.

Somewhere behind you, a strange sound escapes—it's you, emitting a sort of mewling noise that you know Joel catches, his smile widening in response.

"Sounds perfect," he agrees before you even have a chance to process it.

"Sweetie?" your dad asks, his tone sheepish now that he's volunteered you without asking if you were available.

You can only watch as the room seems to spin around you, nodding in agreement. "Yeah... sure, I don't have any tutoring sessions tomorrow."

"Perfect!" your dad sighs with relief, promising Joel they'll catch up later. "But I really need to get back to the shop. Are you alright here with her to help you settle into your new house with whatever you brought? The rest of your stuff hasn't arrived yet."

"Yeah, we'll be just fine," Joel assures in his trademark baritone, locking eyes with you.

You were so fixated on Joel's presence that you hadn't noticed the bags by the side of the home office.

"Sweetie? You sure you're okay to help? You look kind of..." your dad starts, but you take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself before replying, "Yeah, I'll be fine. We'll be fine. I can help."

"Alright then," your dad grabs his car keys, ready to leave the home office. He gives you both a final glance, kissing the top of your head. "I'll be back for dinner. Have fun, you two!"

You and Joel remain frozen in place, him on one side of the room and you by the doorway, both listening to your dad's fading footsteps and the rumble of his truck as he drives away.

You’re so fucked.

It's been six long months since you last saw each other, and for Joel, it's felt like an eternity. The day of your graduation marked the first time he laid eyes on you in over three years, and it was as if he was seeing you for the very first time.

You've grown into a remarkable adult, and Joel couldn't help but feel the overwhelming need to be there, not only for his buddy, your dad, but also for his sweet Buttercup. Witnessing his little girl all grown up and ready to embark on her journey into the world with her diploma was a moment he'll never forget. He'd never seen his best friend prouder, yet his gaze lingered on you for entirely different reasons.

Reasons and desires that had never crossed Joel's mind until that day. He couldn't resist pulling you close, feeling the warmth of your body pressed against his.

What was he thinking? Surely, everyone could see the effect you had on him.

But Joel wasn't thinking, he was acting on instinct. He was claiming what he knew belonged to him. Telling you he was proud of you was one thing, but he's still unsure if you heard what else he said about how good you felt in his arms.

Yet, he doesn't regret it. Because it was true then, and it remains true now. He just wishes he knew if you felt the same way. If you felt it in the same way he did. But how could you possibly feel the same way about him as he has about you these past six months?

Joel couldn't deny that there were many reasons why the relationship between you was complicated. For one, there was the age difference - you were more than half his age. Apart from having the kind of body he could grip, suck and fuck for a lifetime, additionally, you were his best friend's daughter, a bond that ran deep and could not be ignored.

That day, Joel took a risk, blurring the lines and potentially jeopardizing not just his friendship with your dad, but also the bond he shared with you by being so affectionate.

Surprisingly, you didn't seem to mind his gestures, and Joel was convinced that your dad hadn't even noticed. Despite the undeniable attraction he felt towards you, a feeling that lingered and intensified with every thought of you, Joel couldn't shake the worry that his actions might have caused a rift.

As days turned into weeks without any word from your dad, Joel's mind raced with doubts. He couldn't help but question if you had confided in your father about his behavior. Perhaps your dad had sensed Joel's infatuation with you, leading to a silence that spoke volumes.

Intrusive thoughts plagued Joel, wondering if you had been uncomfortable with his displays of affection. The fear that you might have someone else in your life to hold onto gnawed at him, leaving him restless and anxious about the potential consequences of his actions.

Joel and your dad used to share conversations daily, a bond that time and life's demands have gradually weakened, particularly with Sarah still navigating middle school. They both acknowledge the need to reconnect more often, yet something always seems to intervene.

But Joel's decision to visit your father in person wasn't impulsive; it was a deliberate choice, driven by a desire to stay for good this time.

No more fleeting visits. This time, it's permanent.

And it's all because of you.

Since your graduation day, you've occupied Joel's thoughts relentlessly. It's more than just an obsession; you're the sole focus of his mind, consuming his every waking moment.

You are the only thing he can fucking think about.

Joel would never dare voice his thoughts to your dad, not just because of his feelings, but also because your father had a history of using his fists to settle matters. If he even suspected a fraction of what Joel's mind was consumed with regarding his daughter... Well, Joel would never be allowed in your home, with your dad likely ensuring Joel carried a permanent reminder of his displeasure.

Despite his reluctance to keep secrets from his lifelong friend, Joel's motivation to act stems from a burning need that is beyond his mere desire to reunite with you.

He doesn't just want to see you again; he craves it with a fervor that borders on desperation. And the only way to satisfy this yearning is to summon the courage to ask for more.

Reconnecting with your dad was pleasant, but the sight of you, standing in the doorway of the home office, unleashes a torrent of emotions within Joel. It's as though he's been trapped in a deep freeze for the past six months, and your mere presence ignites a firestorm within him.

Every curve of your silhouette, every strand of hair framing your face, fuels Joel's desire until it simmers beyond control, all for you.

As you watched him, his gaze never wavered from your presence, taking in the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. He was grateful for the chair that supported him, as he felt the insanely hard erection you gave him.

Your natural grace and beauty had left him breathless, and he struggled to maintain his composure.

All from just being yourself. All without you even trying to do anything. 

You really are just fucking perfect in every way.

You're now an adult, poised to embrace all the challenges and pleasures that adulthood entails. The mere thought sends a shiver of anticipation coursing through you once more, evoking memories of his touch on that unforgettable graduation day.

The intoxicating blend of his woodsy cologne, the creak of his well-worn leather jacket, and the soft fabric of his grey tee shirt against your skin linger in your mind, igniting a longing for more.

The sensation that floods Joel as he lays eyes on you in person after so long defies description.

It takes all his willpower to resist the impulse to stride over and scoop you up, succumbing to the overwhelming desire to claim you as his own and to drag you into your bedroom. But he restrains himself, clinging to the last shreds of his resolve, waiting for any sign from you that you're ready for his embrace.

When your gaze meets his, he witnesses the hitch in your breath, and he can't help but murmur, "Come here, sweetheart." Your response is like a magnetic pull, drawing you into his strong, steadfast arms. As you melt into his embrace, he's struck by the sense of finally being home. You are his home now.

Joel inhales the sweet fragrance of your hair, longing to whisper countless sentiments into your perfect little ear nestled so close to his mouth.

But all he can muster, without risking scaring you away, is a simple declaration in his southern drawl, "I missed you, my little buttercup."

You bury your face into his checkered flannel, your words muffled against his shirt as you confess, "I missed you too, Joel."

Your body instinctively gravitates towards his, fueled by both necessity and reflex. The memory of his last embrace has haunted your thoughts for the past six months, and as his massive, comforting arms envelop you once more, it feels as though you're picking up right where you left off. He feels even better than you remembered, and the mingling scents of his cologne and freshly laundered clothes stir a desire within you to cling to him forever.

Reluctantly, he releases you from the hug, clearing his throat as you take a small step back, managing to squeak out, “Do you want a cup of coffee before you get settled in your new house? You look kinda tired.”

“Sure,” Joel nods, and you sense him hovering behind you as you descend the staircase and enter the kitchen. You can feel his eyes tracing your movements from behind.

You busy yourself preparing the coffee as Joel sets his things down, knowing it'll provide the perfect opportunity to sit down and have a proper conversation.

As Joel takes a seat at the table, his gaze remains fixed on your curves as you move around the kitchen. In that moment, he realizes there's no way he can stay in this house for more than an hour, without confessing his feelings to you.

“You got a boyfriend?”

The sudden question nearly causes you to spill hot water all over your hand, and you freeze, feeling a slight tremble coursing through you.

“Well?” Joel's deep voice sends shivers down your spine, as if you're caught in the midst of the most exhilarating earthquake imaginable. Your mouth hangs open, unsure of how to respond.

“Boyfriend or not?” he repeats, his tone commanding. “Not,” you answer instantly, not minding the question one bit, especially when you see its effect on Joel.

“Good. Perfect,” he rumbles in a low tone.

Turning back to the kitchen counter, the clinking of ceramic cups fills the room, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as the heat spreads throughout your body and to the tips of your ears.

“Cream and sugar?” you ask, turning your head just long enough to inquire.

The sight of your body shifting under your clothes already ignites fantasies in Joel's mind, imagining all the ways he could pleasure you, even right there on your dad's kitchen floor if you desired.

“Joel?” you prompt, breaking him out of his daydream.

“Uh… Sure. Cream and sugar,” he echoes, noticing your continued blush and slight trembling as you prepare the cups. As you approach him with the coffee, the sudden sound of your dad's voice startles you, causing you to drop one cup, which shatters on the floor.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" he asks, concern etched on his face as he rushes to the sink to run cold water over the affected area.

"I'm fine, Dad. Really," you reply, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"I thought you were gone," you add, unable to keep the annoyance out of your voice.

"I just forgot something. I came back to get it," your father explains, his eyes darting nervously between you and Joel.

Your father's gaze is fixed on Joel, his eyes narrowing as he takes in Joel's obvious concern for you. Anyone could see the way Joel feels about you, and your father's disapproval is palpable.

But you're not a child anymore, and you're tired of your father's disapproval. "Dad, I'm fine. You just startled me, that's all. Why do you always have to sneak up on me like that?" you ask, trying to keep the anger out of your voice.

Joel opens his mouth to speak, but the words don't come. He sighs and shakes his head, gathering the pieces of the broken cup and tossing them in the trash on his way out. The sound of his car speeding away speaks volumes.

"Maybe I should go," Joel suggests, but you wave off his concern.

"Don't worry about my dad. He's been weird ever since I graduated from college," you say, dismissing his concerns.

But Joel knows that your father's suspicions go back further than just this morning. He moves to help you clean up the mess on the floor, ignoring the broken glass and coffee spill. Gently, he takes your hand in his, wincing at the stinging and burn.

"Let's get this under some cold water," he says, leading you to the sink. You lean back against him as he guides your hand under the icy flow, your body yielding to his touch.

"Feel better?" he asks, his voice low and soothing. You nod, leaning into him as the cold water soothes your burn.

Joel's heart races as he holds you, feeling your warmth against him. He knows that your father doesn't approve of him, but he can't help how he feels. He's fallen for you, hard, and he's not going to let your father's disapproval get in the way.

"It feels better now," you whisper, your breath sending shivers down Joel's spine. He moves closer to you, feeling the pressure of your back against his aching cock.

"I can't help but notice how your body is responding to mine," Joel says, his voice low and husky.

"Should we start over?" he asks, leaning down so his mouth is close to your ear.

"You mean with the coffee?" you ask, playing coy. But your body is telling a different story.

"I mean starting over without your dad around," Joel clarifies, moving his hand to stroke the back of your neck.

You turn to face him, looking up into his deep brown eyes. "Just stay," you say, biting your lip.

Joel nods, his hands resting on your hips. "I'm not going anywhere, darlin'," he promises. "I'll be right next door, whenever you need me."

You stand there, close enough to kiss, but Joel holds back. He wants to savor this moment, to make it last.

"I meant what I said that day you graduated," Joel whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "You feel so fucking good."

His words send a jolt of electricity through your body. You feel his arousal pressing against your back, and he grips your hips, pulling you closer.

You plead with Joel to stay, not just because of how the morning has unfolded but because deep down, you need him by your side.

The words you long to say to Joel linger on the tip of your tongue, but the rush of emotions leaves you speechless. Your heart races as you grapple with the intensity of your feelings, unsure of how to express them.

As you run your hand under the cold water, trying to steady your nerves, you suggest preparing the spare room as a distraction. Anything to divert your thoughts and feelings that are swirling inside you.

The tension between you and Joel crackles in the air, the unspoken desire palpable. His longing mirrors your own, creating a charged atmosphere that leaves you both on edge.

"Is your hand goin' to be okay?" Joel's voice is laced with concern as he looks at you, and you nod in response.

"It's just a minor burn from the coffee," you murmur, trying to focus on the task.

"Shall I make us more coffee?" Joel offers, already cleaning up the mess on the floor. But your attention is drawn to the undeniable presence pressing against your back, sending a rush of sensations through you.

Your heart races as you realize the extent of Joel's desire, his arousal evident in every inch of his being.

"I'm not tired," Joel says, his voice low and intimate as he picks up the broken pieces of the mug.

"And I meant what I said earlier," he adds, his tone dropping to a husky whisper that sends shivers down your spine.

The intensity of the moment overwhelms you, making it hard to focus on anything else. You should feel embarrassed, and remind him of boundaries, but the magnetic pull between you is undeniable.

"What did you mean?" you ask, a hint of defiance in your voice, craving his words like a drug.

His lips curl into a knowing smile as he repeats his earlier statement, his gaze lingering on you suggestively.

"You feel so good," Joel says, his words sending a surge of heat through you, your cheeks flushing with desire.

"Is that why you came back?" you inquire, emboldened by the charged atmosphere between you.

"What do you think?" Joel replies, closing the distance between you, the space crackling with unspoken promises and desires.

You feel trapped, torn between your desires and the weight of your past.

Your hands tremble as you press them against Joel's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. You slide your fingers down, curling around a button on his flannel shirt.

"My dad, for Sarah," you croak, your voice barely above a whisper. Joel takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling beneath your touch.

"I didn't come back to town just to see your dad," he says, his voice low and steady. "But I don't want to make you uncomfortable either."

He pauses, taking another deep breath before he continues. "What I mean is, what I'm tryin’ to ask you, is could you have feelings for an older man? A man like me, maybe?"

His eyes bore into yours, a half-smile playing at the corners of his lips. You know what he's asking, and your heart races at the thought of giving in to your desires.

"I want to hear it from your lips," he says, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine.

You take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "I like you a lot, Joel," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel pauses, his eyes never leaving yours. "But?" he prompts, giving you an out if you need it.

You look up at Joel, your eyes pleading with him to make the decision for you. But there's no hesitation in his gaze. He leans in, pressing his warm lips against your hand, and you feel a jolt of electricity shoot through your body.

"Does it feel like this?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, unable to find the words to describe the heat that's building inside you.

"Do you really want me, darlin'?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. You moan, unable to contain your desire any longer.

"Yes," you gasp, your voice barely audible. "Yes, I want you."

Joel growls, a low, primal sound that sends shivers down your spine. He presses your hand against his stiff erection, and you can feel the heat and hardness of him through his jeans.

You trace the outline of his cock with your fingers, forgetting all about the burn on your hand, the hot coffee, and even your dad and his house. All that matters is the feel of Joel's body against yours, the heat and hardness of him that you've longed for since graduation day.

"Then come here," he growls, leaning down further and taking your face in his palm. You shudder one last breath of uncertainty before the warmth of his mouth over yours means neither of you will ever have to ask that question again.

Joel's lips are soft and tender, but his kiss is urgent and demanding. You feel yourself melting into him, your body responding to his touch with a hunger you've never felt before.

His hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour, as if he's been waiting for this moment for years. You respond in kind, your hands tugging at his flannel shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

The heat between you builds, until you're both panting and gasping for breath. Joel's hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that make you dizzy with desire.

Joel can't help himself as he lifts you up and sets you down on the kitchen counter, your legs wrapped around him as he devours your mouth with his own. His hands roam your body, feeling the curves and contours of your figure as if for the first time.

You respond eagerly, your hands tangled in his hair as you deepen the kiss. Joel's touch sends waves of pleasure through your body, and you can feel yourself growing wet with desire.

Joel's hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that make you gasp with pleasure. You arch your back, pressing yourself against him as you feel his hardness against your thigh.

He makes you purr and moan, fulfilling every fantasy you've ever had. Your hands move down to his throbbing cock, gripping and squeezing him through his denim, but you both know this is just the beginning.

Joel has already crossed the line he set for himself, unable to resist the pull between you. He wants more than just a physical connection; he wants all of you, your heart, your soul, your everything.

He envisions a future with you, a life where you're by his side, where you're free to be yourself, to indulge in every desire and dream. He wants to give you a home, a place where you can be truly happy, where the two of you can explore each other endlessly.

As you catch your breath, Joel eases his hold on you, sensing the need for a moment of clarity. Your smile and the flush in your cheeks speak volumes, reassuring him that you're on the same page.

"Holy shit," you exclaim, breathless and exhilarated. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the strength and warmth of him beneath your touch.

Joel exhales slowly, realizing he may have moved too quickly for you. "Too much, darlin'?" he asks with a chuckle, relieved when you giggle and nod in agreement.

But he sees the worry in your eyes, the need for understanding and space. You grip his flannel, pulling him close for a quick kiss, your words a mix of desire and uncertainty.

"I want this... I want you, Joel. I do," you confess, your voice filled with longing and hesitation.

"Just... not right now, not like this," you trail off, and Joel finishes your sentence, understanding the need for time and space to process everything.

He lifts you off the counter, noting how light you feel in his arms. He watches you pace the kitchen, a mix of emotions playing across your face. He settles on a stool, giving you the space you need to sort through your thoughts.

"I didn't think you were leading me on, and I didn't mean to be so forward," Joel says, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Take your time, process everythin’ darlin’.”

Joel's phone buzzes in his back pocket, and he knows it's your father. He takes a deep breath and answers the call, trying to sound casual. You've stopped pacing but still look dazed, as if you're trying to process what just happened between us.

"Hey, man," Joel greets, hearing your father's voice from his car, still on his way to the office.

"Joel, I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. I guess I'm the one who needs a nap, but I can't afford the time right now," he says, sounding sincere.

Your father has always been honest and upfront, and Joel feels a mix of pride and guilt as he listens to his apology. He knows that your dad will be upset once he finds out about the two of you, but until then, Joel thinks it's best to keep your secret a little longer.

"You don't have to apologize, buddy," Joel says, trying to reassure him. "When do you finish work today?" he asks, already thinking about the time they have left alone together.

More time to take things slow? Joel isn't sure. He wants to savor every moment with you, but he also can't wait to explore every inch of your body.

As your father continues to talk, Joel watches you, his mind filled with thoughts of the two of you together. He knows that things will get complicated soon, but for now, he's happy to be in your presence, to feel your warmth and energy.

"Yeah, I'll see you then," Joel says, ending the call and turning to you. "Are you okay?" he asks, taking a step closer to you.

You nod, still looking dazed, and Joel wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. He knows that the two of you have a lot to talk about, but for now, he's content to hold you, to feel your heart beating against his chest.

The future may be uncertain, but Joel knows one thing for sure - he's never felt this way about anyone before, and he's not about to let you go.

As Joel holds you close, your head resting on his chest, you finally voice the question that's been lingering between you.

"I guess we can't do this sort of thing around my Dad, huh?" you ask, your voice soft against his skin.

Joel strokes your hair gently, his heart full of emotions he never thought he'd feel again. He marvels at how easily and perfectly this moment has unfolded, how right it feels to have you in his arms.

"We probably shouldn't, not yet," Joel replies, his voice tinged with longing. He feels you nod in agreement, and he knows that keeping this secret will be a challenge.

Joel had left town to escape the past, to build a new future for himself and his daughter Sarah. But now, as he returns to the place where it all began, he realizes that his future is intertwined with yours.

He sees a future with you, a life filled with love and possibility. He dreams of a family with you, of building something lasting and meaningful together.

As he holds you in his arms, feeling the warmth of your body against his, Joel knows that this is just the beginning. 

As you and Joel waste no time getting settled in the new house, the air crackles with anticipation. Joel turns the key in the door, and as you step inside, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of desire.

Without a word, you set down his bag, and Joel takes your hand, pulling you close. He lifts you effortlessly, spinning you around in a dizzying whirl of passion and need.

The lock clicks shut, sealing you both in a world of raw desire and longing. The house feels like a sanctuary, a place where only you and Joel exist, at least for the next hour or so.

"Aren't you gonna show me around first? I had no idea the inside was so nice," you giggle, your head spinning from the intensity of his touch and the day's events.

"I thought you might like to show me around... your sweet fuckin’ body," Joel rasps in your ear before claiming your lips in a fierce, possessive kiss. Each touch, each kiss, ignites a fire within you, driving you to the edge of reason.

"You tell me if it gets too much, alright darlin'?" Joel murmurs between kisses, his strong arms wrapped around you. You nod eagerly, your body craving his touch, his presence.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, you gravitate towards the nearest soft surface, a luxurious leather sofa in the living room. Joel stops in front of it, but you're consumed by the need for him, the hunger for his touch.

You try to nod, talk, and kiss him all at once, but the overwhelming desire he stirs in you leaves you breathless and unable to form coherent words. "Yeah... fuck... yes, I will," you pant, your body arching into his touch as he explores every inch of you.

Joel lowers you onto the couch, his eyes fixed on you with a hunger that matches your own. He drops to his knees in front of you, parting your legs with a firm grip, his gaze locked on your body with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

“I’m gonna eat your little pussy, make you come until you beg me to stop,” he says in a firm tone.

His hands move with purpose, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you. You gasp and groan as he explores every inch of you, his fingers and tongue setting your body ablaze with pleasure.

As he delves deeper, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony, you feel a wave of pleasure building within you, each touch pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

You writhe and moan under his touch, your body responding to his every move with a hunger that matches his own. The room fills with the sounds of your pleasure, the air thick with desire and need.

His elbows prop your knees wide, and half-reclined on the worn leather, you can't help but feel a thrill at the sensations coursing through your body.

The scent of old leather and his cologne mingles with the musk of your arousal, creating a heady mix that only heightens your desire. You're ready for Joel, and you know it won't take long for him to bring you to the edge.

With a rough yank, he tears your panties aside, the sound of fabric rending adding to your arousal. You never knew you could feel this horny, and every moment with Joel only intensifies your desire.

He takes a moment to admire your slick folds, his thick fingers gently parting your lips. You grip his silver-flecked curls tighter as he moves down to taste you, your body trembling with anticipation.

Your moans fill the room, mingling with Joel's deep groans of pleasure. His tongue finds its mark, and you can't help but cry out, your body writhing under his touch.

Joel's mouth covers you completely, his tongue replacing his fingers as he explores every inch of your sex. You're on the brink of climax, your body trembling with need.

"Be patient, darlin'," Joel whispers hoarsely, his voice filled with desire. He grips your thighs, pushing them wider apart until his massive head is pressed between them.

You shift your grip to his broad shoulders, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"Joel... Joel," you moan, trying to tell him how close you are, how much you want him. But all that comes out are animalistic sounds of pleasure.

Joel's body quakes with silent laughter, his voice deep and reassuring as he promises you can come all night. You trace the outline of his jaw, your body trembling with need as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

If heaven exists, you're sure you've found it in Joel's arms.

AN: I'm such a fool to think that this would be a one-shot... ya'll this is now a mini-series. Don't worry... this will be a two to three-chapter kinda series. 🤍

[fanfic-corner]

Spideypool Fic Recs

I've recently been reading a lot of Wade/Peter fics, so I thought I'd share some of my favourites with you! Please remember to check the tags before reading <3

Lobster Biscuit by Scarlet_Ribbons (2.6k)

Peter goes on a terrible, terrible date, cashes in a favor on behalf of Spider-Man, and begs Deadpool to crash it.

Deadpool delivers.

Not One Hundred Percent by HashtagLEH  (7.3k)

After being drugged at a party, Peter is lucid enough to figure out that he needs help. But who does he even know (and trust) enough that he can just pop up on their doorstep at two in the morning?

Meanwhile, Wade would just really like to know who this random college kid is that showed up at his door.

let me explain by jilliancares (8.5k)

Wade scoffs, shaking his head and elbowing Peter in the side. “Sure,” he says, sarcastic. “That’s why your spidey-sense doesn’t see me.”

Peter’s on the verge of laughing, wanting to join Wade in his amusement, but he freezes. His entire body goes still. He finds himself staring at a roof three buildings over, not even looking at anything. Two blocks away, a car alarm finally shuts off.

“I never told you that,” Peter says, the realization startling him.

Or: Peter's starting to realize just how much Wade knows about him.

Bear the Pain (as the Gods Intended) by mustehelmi (9.8k)

Five times Wade is injured and one time Peter is the injured one.

Gravitation by WillowSong (9.9k)

In a universe where Spiderman never exists, young Peter Parker makes an unlikely friend in Deadpool.

A Friendly Neighbourhood Kidnapping by Willow Writes (12k)

Peter is more than a little mad when Wade ghosts him for years, and then when he finally shows his face in New York again, it’s to kidnap Peter Parker. So he decides to have some fun with the situation and see how long it takes for Wade to recognise him.

Wade thinks he has an easy hit ahead of him and is planning on getting back in touch with his favourite Web–Slinger once the job is done. But Peter Parker seems harder to take down than his buyer let on.

what light through yonder window by hellornothing (14k)

The figure moves quickly, but Peter’s faster. He’s still adjusting to the sudden brightness, so dark red is really the only thing he takes from this initial encounter, but it’s enough.

‘Deadpool?’

aka the one where they get together via late night window visits

The 6 Times Peter Wanted To Reveal his Identity (And the 1 Time He Did) by Spongeekat (28k)

"Look, I’m just a Deadpool. I know I’m not Dr. Phil. But I couldn’t just let you make some bad decision and let the world lose one more hot piece of ass. Anyways, I live in the area and saw you standing on the ledge, and I thought I could maybe talk you down. Dying hurts, in case you were wondering. It’s not worth it.” Dying...hurts? Talk him down? Bad decision?

Oh.

“Oh.” Everything suddenly connected and the gears started turning in Peter’s brain. “No, wait, I wasn’t…” He didn’t quite know how to explain he wasn’t there to do that without completely explaining why he was up there in the first place. Any resolve he may have had earlier about revealing his superpowered persona had melted away, his plans going awry within seconds. "

Or Peter is madly in love with Wade, and plans to meet him on top of his apartment building to reveal his identity. Wade thinks Peter is standing on the ledge ready to jump, and takes it upon himself to make sure he gets home safe and finds a reason to live again.

Finite State by Scarlet_Ribbons (34k)

When he's blackmailed by, of all people, a weird work acquaintance who needs Spider-Man gone for obviously illegal purposes, Peter is forced to hang up the suit- at least temporarily -until he can resolve the situation. Unfortunately, things start to get sticky when Deadpool, who Spider-Man's been on-again off-again with (okay, yeah, lowkey messing around with), crashes into Peter's life and demands the photographer help him figure out what's got his favorite webhead so spooked.

Peter's life is really weird.

I Think I Missed a Step ('Cause I'm Fallin' For You) by mokuyoubi (42k)

There’s a weird familiarity about the kid's tone and posture, and it’s true that Wade is pretty far from home today but he’s also certain he’d remember that baby-face if he’d seen it before. On the other hand, he has spent the better part of the past few years feeling like he’s missed a step, so this conversation isn’t exactly anything new.[[A hot guy is willingly talking to us. Go with it.]][Don’t make an ass of yourself.]“Shaddup,” Wade grumbles, though Yellow has a point...

OR Peter thinks Wade knows his secret identity, and Wade is really confused by the hot coed who keeps popping up and hanging out with him.

Damage by dontcareajot (42k)

Peter Parker finds himself in a sticky situation and who should show up to rescue him but the infamous Deadpool? Now Peter feels indebted to the mercenary... And maybe weirdly charmed by him.

My Boyfriend's a Murder Bot by Fredegund (55k)

Wade Winston Wilson is ugly. His skin's inside out. It ripples and moves every second of every day, at constant war with the cancer. Vanessa put on a brave face for him when she first saw the changes, but it turns out even she can't stomach the sight for long. He's ugly and alone and nothing will ever be good in life again -

If only that were his only problem.

But Weapon X is at it again, under crisp new management, turning orphans into super slaves and bringing out the big guns to make sure nobody interferes this go around (namely one Pool comma Dead). So now, not only is Wade alone and ugly forever, but he's got a bit of a pest problem in the form of a black-clad murder-happy man spider with a collar around his neck and an unhealthy obsession with tying Deadpool up.

So maybe it's not all bad...

Paradise (spread out with a butter knife) by Sarah_Sandwich (72k)

He sighs from where he’s prone, arms akimbo, and roof gravel digging into his spine. “I lost my job. My… other job. The one that actually pays the bills.”

He doesn’t want to dwell on why he’s telling Deadpool of all people. Surely it has nothing to do with his desperate lack of friends. MJ is in California chasing her dreams, Harry’s undergoing treatment for his mental health and isn’t allowed visitors (not that it matters since they blacklisted Peter after last time), and Gwen… Well.

And it’s not like he can talk to Aunt May without her worrying about him starving to death under a bridge or something so… Deadpool it is. Man, when did his life get this pathetic?

OR: The one where Peter and Wade are literal soulmates but don't realize it for literal years because they're literal idiots.

Dissonance by stuckybarnes (121k)

Wherein Deadpool is reluctantly hired to protect Peter Parker from an organization out to hunt him, with varying success on both ends and quite a lot of feelings, revelations, and identity crises.

I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I did, and please let me know if you have any more Spideypool recs! And, as always, thank you to all the wonderful writers for sharing these incredible fics with us <33

[tollingreminiscentbells]

In the defense of bottom!Voldemort|Tom

I'm in a mood, so I've decided to break down my thoughts on this topic and I'm putting it in the tags for anyone who is interested. With a suitably melodramatic title.

The rules here are simple: if you know you won't like this, don't read it. If you read it anyway and don't like it, that is the definition of a you problem. Okay? Okay.

So let's talk about why I think it is incorrect and, frankly, offensive to claim that Voldemort|Tom bottoming is inherently out of character.

In order to have this conversation, we're actually having a bigger conversation about sex. Because that's really what this is about.

Something that has popped up in a handful of comments on my own fic is surprise that Voldemort wants to suck Harry's cock. Now, I'm going to be charitable and assume that the people who say things like this don't realize what they're implying. But the reality is that they are operating from the assumption that a man sucking another man's dick is, at least to some extent, weak and degrading. A subservient act.

This is both homophobic and factually untrue. A significant percentage of people who like dick also like giving blowjobs. It's an enjoyable, pleasurable thing to do. And even if the physical act of sucking cock doesn't turn someone on, there are so many other reasons to want to do it. Getting off on being the source of your partner's pleasure, for one example.

But let's move on to the elephant in the room: anal sex. Specifically, the act of being penetrated. The interesting thing about bottoming is that, contrary to what some people seem to believe, it's the more powerful position. Penetration is only happening because the person bottoming is granting permission. Even if that person has ceded total control of the encounter, the fact remains that they made that decision in the first place and could un-make it at any time.

If that agency does not exist, the sex is not truly consensual. Full stop.

Moreover, a strong, dominant personality =/= topping. There is no innate correlation. This is where misogyny really comes to the table. Bottoming seen as a feminine act, and femininity conflated with weakness and submission. Do I think (most) Tomarrymort readers are consciously thinking this way? No. But that doesn't mean the underlying bias isn't present.

There are so many ways penetrative sex can play out. Yes, you get the "classic" version of the person topping being dominant and the person bottoming being submissive. But you can also get topping from the bottom, where the dominant partner in every way is the person being fucked. Or maybe no one is taking a dominant role. Et cetera. This is a broad overview, not an exhaustive list.

Do you see what none of these things have? An assumption that topping=stereotypical masculinity and bottoming=stereotypical femininity. Even with a couple that likes playing with that flavor of gender roles, it's a choice they're making. And before someone willfully misunderstands me, there is nothing wrong with that choice. But don't mistake it for something it's not.

So now that we've clarified that being penetrated is not weak, degrading, or even inherently submissive, let's bring this back to Tomarrymort.

First of all, have you read the books? Voldemort is campy as shit. High drama and a surprisingly great sense of humor (his jokes are fucked up, but also pretty funny). He's not this hyper-masculine figure. On the flip side, Harry is not an effeminate man. He's a jock who will fight you.

So from whence comes this zealous dedication some people have to a fixed dynamic that puts Voldemort|Tom in the masculine role and Harry in the feminine role? Yes, we've established that sex positions are neither of those things, but we all know that's the assumption simmering toxically in the background.

I can't say for sure, but my instincts tell me that it comes from a shallow read of both characters. Voldemort is a powerful man who commands a terrorist organization. Harry is the good-hearted hero, defined by his capacity to love. And this can get twisted into Voldemort|Tom taking and Harry giving in a very reductive way. Even when the relationship is meant to be consensual.

Obviously, I don't think this is universal. I've read a lot of incredible takes on sex in this fandom, with different top/bottom/switching dynamics. And this is fanfiction, which means you can play with characterization to your heart's content. What I'm talking about is people insisting that Voldemort|Tom must top and Harry must bottom and anything else is wrong.

Why are you so adamant about that? Have you ever given it a moment's thought? If you prefer it, you prefer it, that's all fine. But when it morphs into claiming that bottom!Voldemort|Tom is out of character and bad, things have crossed over into the arena of the absurd. Like what you like, but be aware of what you're really saying when you talk about sex.

Not conflating bottoming with weakness and topping with strength would be a good starting point. Understand that there are myriad reasons a person might want to bottom. It can be a source of relief, allowing someone else to take control so you don't have to. It can be an act of manipulation. It can be a form of domination. And sometimes it's just because bottoming is what feels good and they have more fun that way. Or it's just the kind of pleasure they're in the mood for on a random Tuesday night.

No one is telling you to read things you don't enjoy. And no one is saying that fixed top/bottom dynamics don't exist in the real world. But it's ridiculous to apply a fixed dynamic to such a degree that you get upset when other people write something else and consider a fic "ruined" by it. You really should put some thought into your biases. It's good for you. But even if you don't, when you claim a sexual dynamic is inherently out of character, you're actually just wrong. So stop doing that. It will be a net gain for all of us, including you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, clashing personalities, exclusion, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: moody boy Curtis Everett x bubbly, plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You vow yourself to confinement. You will not leave your desk for any reason. You even brought a thermos of coffee. The container is a honey brown and the lid has bear ears, an animated face painted on the metal. It makes you smile despite the gloom that clouds you.

You don’t know how it happens. You always mean well but things always end up so wrong. So you’ve determined you’re better off on your own. Minding your own business and getting through the work day without calamity.

It’s lonely. You eat your lunch in your cubicle, watching a crochet video on the small screen of your phone. You still can’t figure out how to get just the right shape for the hippo you’ve been working on. It’s the final piece in your collection; to go along with the giraffe, the elephant, lion, and zebra. With your new job, you haven’t even had the energy to try.

You get back to work, eyes fuzzy as you stare at the spreadsheet. Millennia of human existence and for what? For excel and stale coffee? Is this really progress?

You reign in your wandering mind and work through the numbers. You just want to get through your first week. That will be a feat you can be proud of. You drain the last lukewarm sip from your thermos and pout. You could really use a refill but you will resist. You can’t risk it.

At the end of the day, you sneak out down the stairwell. You’re breathless by the time you reach the bottom, dizzy from the winding levels above. You shake it off and head off. You could use a nice hot bath, those office chairs are really not comfy.

Your night goes by as any does. You get your bath and eat some ramen before tucking into bed and mindlessly scrolling on your phone. You fall asleep with the light on and wake up to the blare of your alarm the next morning. 

It’s Friday! You get up and get dressed. A lilac skirt that buttons up the front and a frilly white blouse on top. You pull on a lemon yellow cardigan and a pair of matching flats. It’s bright and fun! Unlike anything else in that gray office.

You shove one of the pillows from the couch into your bag, the one that looks like a sprinkle donut, and grab your thermos. You race out to catch the bus and throw yourself into the day ahead. You just need to make it to the end and you have the whole weekend ahead of you.

Once at your cubicle, you settle in. You place the donut pillow on the thin cushion of the office chair and kneel on the floor as you work at readjusting the backrest and arms. You get up and plop down, testing the height and swiveling a bit. It’s slightly better.

You roll closer to your desk and boot up for the day. You reach for your pen cup but stop short as you find only the boring Bic sticks that overflow the supply cupboards. Huh?

You reach under your desk and grab your bag. You stir around, certain you careless slid your pen in there. You can’t find it! Your most favourite pen is gone. There’s a tiny penguin at the end and the pen’s body is filled with water and glitter that shimmers and looks like falling snow. Where is it?

Your panic has you searching the empty drawers of the desk and down on your knees crawling around. You don’t find it. You give up as your chest sinks and you mope at your monitor, clicking mindlessly on your Outlook and the company’s shared drive. 

You sit back and uncap your thermos. You take a drink and nearly choke. Oh no! It’s so bitter it leaves your tongue gritty. The filter must’ve split in the machine again. You let out a blech and get up, letting your chair roll back carelessly.

You go down to the break room and dump the coffee down the sink. That’s when you remember you’re not supposed to be in there. Shoot. You look around. It’s empty. You should have time enough to fill your cup.

You go to the machine and pick a pod from the rack. You don’t pay attention to the flavour, you just want coffee. You wait for the machine to grind and claim your cup as the brew stops below the brim. You quickly retreat back to your desk and sit, leaving the lid off the thermos to let it cool.

Ow! Your tailbone hits the thin seat and jars your spine. You get up and look down at the barren cushion. Your pillow is gone. What the heck?

You roll the chair around, thinking maybe you knocked it off when you stood up. It’s not that hard to miss. Nope, it’s gone. 

You look over at Dana as he yawns over a Starbucks cup. She has no donut under her bottom. Who would do that? Who would steal your pillow? You chew your lip and resign yourself to another day of discomfort.

You taste the coffee. Mmm, it must be the dark roast. It’s full-bodied and rich, slightly smoky. You don’t usually go for it, you prefer more caffeine. It might be good for you, you really don’t need the extra jitter.

You plant your elbow beside your keyboard and fall into your work. The office awakens around you. The clack of keys, the clicking of mice, and the low voices that rise and fall over cubicle walls. 

You lean back and check the time. Barely an hour in. You stretch your neck and massage your shoulders as you try to work out the kink of your poor posture. As you do, you sense a shadow approach Dana’s desk. You shift your chair and peek over, quickly wheeling back to your desk to hunch down and hide. It’s him.

“Phillips,” he calls her by her last name, “you still in charge of supplies?”

“Morning, Curtis,” she replies tritely, “what is it? We don’t have budget left for tech upgrades until end of month.”

“Coffee,” he growls, “dark roast.”

You tap your foot nervously. You didn’t know he liked the dark roast. If you did, you wouldn’t have taken the last pod. Maybe you should offer him what you have left… no, you should just leave him be.

“I’ll add it to the list,” Dana acquisces dismissively, “anything else?”

He grunts but doesn’t answer as he pivots on his heel. You peek up above the wall of your cubicle and immediately regret it. His attention is drawn by the movement and his eyes meet yours as his features twist into a scowl. You try to smile and he rolls his eyes before setting his shoulders and striding away.

Oh, you have an idea!

[golbrocklovely]

cultish love // colby brock

A/N: first off, so sorry for this being so late, i had a lot of things i had to edit about this fic. also this is my longest fic ever ! like the other fic before this, this is a AU version of colby… where he, you guessed it, is a cult leader. and he is also corrupt (but like aren't all cult leaders). again this deals with some possible heavy themes, so give a good read of the trigger warnings before reading ahead. i've always joked about colby being able to lead a cult, and that's basically where this idea came from. this fic also took a turn i wasn't expecting, but i like it anyway. also the first half is written as a journal entry (all italized) and then the rest is an actual fic (not italized). lmk what you think, and happy haunting !

prompt: you're a journalist, and your next big story is on the 'empathic love' cult, led by none other than colby brock. this cult is not known well, but you are getting a first hand look at them and what they do. and quickly, colby takes a liking to you. || fem!reader x AU!cult leader!colby brock

trigger warning: SMUT, no actual sex but you do get mentally fucked (it will make sense in the story), cult vibes all around, love bombing, cursing, supernatural powers, colby is very intense and kinda scary but also still his charming self, slight dubcon similar in vain to sam's story - you never say no outright, but you do have general feelings of 'wtf is this, idk if i like' so if that's too much for you, feel free to read something else :), colby's aura is crazy good at giving you visions, strangers-to-soulmates?? don't know if that's a tag lol, also…. colby's technically bisexual in this????? but like barely

word count: 8610

I've been a reporter for only five years, and this story.... it could make or break my career. Cults aren't as prevalent as they once were way back when. They still exist, just in the shadows. A lot quieter on most fronts. Usually disguised as a business or religion, for tax reasons of course. But this cult, Empathic Love, is unlike any cult I've heard of.

Of course, they don't call themselves a cult, but that's what they are. How else would you describe a bunch of randos following one man around wherever he goes?

They only started so many years ago, right before I graduated university. The main founder, Colby Brock, is a pragmatic individual, according to his followers. The cult began blowing up in my town a little over two years ago, and now people flock from all over the world to visit the Love Compound. You would think it's Disney World the way people grow excited about it.

But I am here to get to the truth of this cult. What is their motive? What are they planning to do? Will this be another Waco or Heaven's Gate? What sinister beliefs hide underneath the modern-day hippie aesthetic they show?

These notes will document everything I experience for the next couple of days. And in case I go missing, these are my proof of who's to blame.

I don't think it will go that far, but you can never be too sure.

~~~~

Day 1 - Investigation

I'm still incredibly surprised I was allowed to come onto the Love Compound. The leader himself apparently reached out to my boss and told them that they wanted someone to come down and interview the group. They allow visitors from time to time, "new recruits" as some of the townspeople call them, but reporters have never been allowed in. Not once. Until me.

Driving up to the compound was nerve-wracking. I never imagined I would be nervous; I've interviewed plenty of criminals in my years, have done full blown investigations into scary, horrifying crimes. But something about this place freaked me out. Partially because I didn't know what I was getting into. But another part of me, and I will never admit this out loud, felt... at home.

The only promise I made to myself was I wouldn’t drink any kool-aid while there. So, I plan to stick to that. Pretend my previous statement never existed.

I was greeted by a beautiful woman when I got there: Avery. No one went by last names. And some apparently changed their names altogether, which was not surprising. My guess is there were most likely criminals hanging out amongst the group. But I had no proof of that, just a hunch. It easily could be a safe haven for those wanting to escape whatever life they had before.

The compound was three Victorian style mansions connected to each other and had a decent size farm attached - about 222 acres. Avery told me about all of the vegetables and chickens they farmed. Everything was organic and used up as often as possible. Anything that couldn't be eaten or produced too much for the only 100ish people in the compound, was sold at the farmer's market or given away to the local food bank. Avery explained to me very clearly that everyone in the compound chipped in one way or another. Some still worked normal jobs, but just lived here with everyone. But she noted that Colby hoped in the near future no one would have to work at all and they would be self-sufficient in a couple years.

A cult with future plans? Almost unheard of.

I told Avery that I was given an all-access pass to ask anything I wanted to, and nothing I asked could be ignored or deflected. She agreed to an interview. I recorded all of it, but here are the highlights of what I gathered.

I asked her why Colby was such a secretive man. There were very few photos of him that did exist out there, but all that was rumored about him was his alluring eyes and generally attractive presence. She agreed that he was handsome, describing his as having "ocean blue eyes" and his voice was to die for. "Deep and arousing", as she explained.

I noted that she seemed almost lost in thought at the idea of him, like she was envisioning him directly in front of her. Strange behavior; but not for a cult follower. Many end up falling in love with their leader, believing they have a genuine relationship with said person.

I bought up the name of the group, Empathic Love, and said it felt a little too inviting. She laughed and told me that it was right on the money - the best way to describe why everyone was there. She expressed to me that so many of Colby's followers wanted peace and love and light, and that being in this group felt like that. It was rewarding to be surrounded by those that cared and wanted to see each other succeed. Life outside the walls of the compound was rough, scary, draining; but inside, it was all love.

Call me cynical, but I don't believe that for a second. It took all the strength I had to keep from rolling my eyes at her. But I could tell from her voice, her motions... she was telling the truth. Well, her truth.

I wanted to know what brought her here, so she spoke of her previous life. She was abused growing up, moved around a lot in foster care. She was almost homeless, and then one day she ran into Colby. He had just begun the Empathic Love group, and she just knew she had to stick with him. Her life immediately turned around the moment he was in her life. The adoration in her eyes told me a different story, so I pressed her - "are you and Colby... together?" She smiled and said no, but she knew that they were life partners before, just not currently.

Oh... so it's one of those types of cults.

She said that Colby doesn't have a second in command, wife, girlfriend, whatever. Everyone is equal and heard. He's just the face of the group, which is a bit ironic given even I have no clue what he looks like. I knew he was young, in his mid-20s. But other than that, no idea.

I needed to know, why stay? What keeps you here? A dreamy look came over her, like she had said this a million times before: "Colby. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."

Chills ran up my spine at the tone of her voice. It was dull, and her words sounded like a mantra, the way she said them so easily.

I wrapped up my interview with her, quiring if I was allowed to interview others. She said yes and began sending over random people one-by-one to me.

If I hadn't gotten chills from her first, I would have from everyone else. Something about seeing everyone saying similar things, smiling happily, like the ship isn't sinking around them was eerie. It made my stomach churn when I would ask questions I already asked Avery, and get almost the same speech back.

I interviewed about 15 people. All variety of ages and genders. I suddenly realized that there were no children around, and everyone was over the age of 21.

Consenting adults… minus the supposed brainwashing.

A couple of the interviewees stuck out to me:

Penelope, 25. Her upbringing was similar to Avery's, but she still kept in contact with her family. Apparently, she wasn't the only one like that either. Many still kept in touch and even visited their loved ones. I asked her to describe Colby, tell me anything about him. She giggled, almost like a schoolgirl, and began to weave such a story about him. He was kind and caring. His smile was contagious, just like his laugh. And his singing voice was fantastic. She talked about him like he was a boy band member, and she was his biggest fan. I asked her to give one word to describe him, and she said "Love. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."

Greg, 36. He had fallen into rough times, and desired a fresh start. He had heard about this group online, and figured checking them out while he was in town wouldn't hurt. And that was a couple years ago. I wondered why he didn't feel weird listening to someone that was younger than him, and he shrugged. It was nice not having eyes on him. He loved being in a wallflower, and he believed that Colby deserved all the love he got from everyone in the group. Every ounce he got was ten-folded back into the group. Greg had never felt so connected to a group of people and he knew it was all thanks to Colby. "He brought love into my life like I never have had it before. Because that's who he is: love."

Heather, 29. She mentioned how for most of her life she felt like shit. Her confidence was at an all-time low when she met Colby. He encouraged her to keep at it, to love herself and find happiness everywhere. And by spending more and more time with him, she did. She has never felt more confident about herself, her life, her direction, and Colby is the reason for that. The tone that took over her voice when she bought him up was odd. It was very similar to a partner describing the love of their life, almost like wedding vows. I asked her haphazardly about her love life, how that was going for her. And she told me she had been on many dates - something she never used to do back when she was younger or before Colby. But she did note that regardless of who she ends up with, she knows that a part of her heart will always belong to Colby. They were connected, forever. "Love and light and happiness is what I desired, and I got it - all because Colby exists in my life now."

It felt like I was getting nowhere with some of these interviews. Many said the same thing, Colby being love and light and blah blah blah. I wanted someone that wasn't gonna just quote to me whatever mantra he made them learn. And luck was on my side, because I was able to interview their newest member, Ash. They were 23, and very beautiful. There was an almost smugness about them, like they knew they were the shiny new toy on the block. The confidence only a young 20-something year old could have.

I asked them, point blank, about Colby. Be brutally honest. They told me he was hot, and that's what drew them to him. They liked the idea of living in a group setting, especially since they grew up with many brothers and sisters. They liked helping out, and they liked knowing that Colby was keeping an eye on them the most recently. I then followed up with how long it took for them to join the group. "Three days. That's how long it takes for everyone."

I questioned them about the "Colby is love" thing, and they agreed it was a bit strange, but they couldn't help but feel the same way as everyone else. They were like a moth to a flame when it came to him. Everything about him was hypnotizing, entrancing. It was like staring at the sun; even though you knew to look away, you just couldn't help it.

Then I had to know: were they sleeping with him? Most of these cults feed off of the leader fucking every person they wanted to and leaving other members high and dry. But for some reason, it felt as if Colby was sleeping with everyone with the way they all talked about him. Ash dissented, saying no one was sleeping with him. He didn't sleep with any of his followers. But they all shared a deep, sensual mental connection with him. They felt like, sometimes, he was in their soul. And that sensation alone was euphoric, bordering on orgasmic. They also knew that in another life, they would have been together, similar to what Avery said.

It was then I knew that this group was clinically insane, or just really infatuated by what Colby was selling. It had to have been some crazy brainwashing. But it was odd; people were allowed to leave, to see loved ones, to have lives outside of the compound walls. Hell, some had dating lives that included those not here! That's unheard of, and completely stupid on Colby's part if he wants to keep things going.

A cult leader that wanted to watch his world implode.... I had to meet him. I had to meet the myth that was Colby Brock. And tomorrow I get my chance to.

~~~~

Day 2 - Interview with Colby

I feel the need to explain that these are my notes, not really meant for anyone else to see. And really, the only reason anyone would be seeing this is if I disappear or got murdered.

So, I say all of that just so I know, for myself, that this is a safe space for me to express my truest emotions and thoughts after interviewing Colby.

And all I can say, honestly, is that... I get it. I understand it now.

I felt my nerves hit their break last night before going to sleep, unable to stop my mind reeling from what was to come. I ended up bringing along a bodyguard, or really a photographer. I had known Trey since I started working as a journalist, and I knew I could rely on him to get us out of the Empathic Love compound if anything went south. I wasn't sure what I was up against when I went to interview Colby, but God... I didn't think I was so underprepared.

I met him in his office, Avery walked me over to it. It was up in the attic of the third house. It overlooked the entire property with wide windows. For an attic, I expected it to feel dark and dusty, but surprisingly it was light and airy. Almost like being out in the woods and taking a deep breath.

Colby was sitting in his main office chair. He spun around to see us, a light smile on his face. I'll be honest - I was taken aback by his beauty. I understood Ash's whole spiel about him being attractive and looking at him was like looking at the sun. It was intense. He was intense. His blue eyes bore into me, almost like they could see through me. I felt chills, but they weren't of fear. It was out of... excitement, of awe.

He greeted me, giving me a warm handshake. I hate to admit that I almost blushed at the sound of him saying my name. I had to take a couple deep breaths before starting. Avery left the room, and Trey sat outside the door, in case of backup.

I recorded our interview, knowing that I couldn't keep track of everything he said. But listening back to it now, his voice.... it's like a song. A beautiful, spellbinding song. I could almost fall asleep to it....

I asked him about his life, and how he came to be a leader for a group like Empathic Love. He spoke of his upbringing lightly, barely scraping the surface. He talked about growing up pretty normally, having a loving family, a great friend group, and then one day realizing that he could make a change in the world. That many people loved him and loved being around him. And that's when he knew that if he could make their lives better, he would. So, he started Empathic Love. Originally, it was just gonna be a safehouse for those that needed it. But then more and more people joined and suddenly, it grew into what it was today.

I asked where his family was now. "In Kansas," he told me. He said nothing further than that.

He humbly spoke of all the love he received from his followers, or his "friends" as he put it. They all cared about him in a way that he only wished he could return tenfold. I questioned him about the whole "Colby is love" thing. "How come everyone says almost the exact same thing, like they've been brainwashed into saying it?" He didn't even trip over his words as he spoke matter-of-factly to me. "I didn't come up with that phrase, they did. You would have to ask them. I take it as the highest form of a compliment, truly. I'll be honest, it's a bit embarrassing at times when they call me that, but I can't help what they do. I appreciate their love, nonetheless."

I continued asking him about different topics, until finally reaching the one I was most intrigued about. "How many of your followers - excuse me - friends, have you slept with?" He smirked, smirked, at me and said "None. Did any of them tell you that we slept together?"

"No, but the way they talk about you like the sun shines out of your ass does seem a bit odd, don't you think?"

He looked unphased. God, he had an answer for everything. "I'll be honest with you, some of my friends might be in love with me. But I make it abundantly clear that while I love them, and love their love, I don't have feelings for them. I'm still looking for the one."

I remember holding back a glare, "So, you're celibate?"

"Now, I never said that." He let out a chuckle, then his eyes darkened. "Why do you care so much about my sex life? Unless of course, you want to join it."

I tried ignoring his gaze and his words but stuttered through my next question. “Then who exactly is the right one for you, if it's not one of your followers or friends?”

It took him a while to answer, he even closed his eyes for a bit. He sat up once he knew, sauntering over to his window that overlooked it all. "I imagine the one for me is someone that will bring peace to me and my life. Someone that for all my faults, can see who I am truly deep down. She will love me, and I will worship her. I will show her what true love feels like. Our souls will be one, because they always have been."

Something strange came over me. I don't know why I said it, but I uttered, "What about looks?"

Who cares about looks! Why did I ask about looks? I was a serious journalist, not a reporter for Star Magazine!

He looked over his shoulder at me, "Looks aren't that important to me. What matters is mind and soul. Who you are deep down. But if I had to pick… someone like you. I feel someone like you would be a perfect fit around here."

I wanted to give him the sassiest voice and rebuttal I could muster, but deep down I was shaking. Energy raced through my body, like I had been electrified.

He kept his back to me, staring out the window. “I'm not trying to be overly complimentary. I'm just being honest. But I can tell that you would do so well to have us around. To have... me, in your life. I bring a lot of love to people's lives, that's for sure. But I also bring a lot of drive, and passion, and intimacy.”

Intimacy?

“People open up when I'm around. They tell me everything, even things they never dreamt of telling another person. And I allow it, because clearly, they needed to express it. And once they do, it's like the floodgates open. Love and light just start pouring into them, into their life, and it's overwhelming - but so worth it. Doesn't that sound nice?”

I guess so...

“I bring happiness to so many. My friends have told me that they get jittery around me, I'm like a shot of adrenaline. And that energy, that power, courses through them. And when it gets expressed, it comes out in…” He took a long pause, turning back to me. The look in his eyes… I can remember it as if he was still in front of me. “Pleasurable ways.”

I hate admitting this, and it's embarrassing to say it even now, but I felt a jolt of... something, run through me. I won't even say what it was out loud, in fear of never being taken seriously again. But what happened after that, I don't know if words can even express it well.

Colby continued talking, but I couldn't pick up on any of it. He was talking up a storm, but I couldn't help the sensations I was feeling. Even in my wildest of fantasies, I've never felt anything in reality. It was all in my mind. But in that very moment, it felt like it was happening to me.

I felt lips tread up my neck, stopping just below my ear. A hot, low moan breathed into my ear. My spine tingled at the sound, my hands gripping the armrests of the chair. If I didn't know any better, I would think Colby was behind me, making those noises. My hands suddenly felt hands on top of them. My eyes widened, looking down, but nothing was there. I couldn't really move my arms once the invisible hands were there. My whole body felt numb and heavy, relaxed. My mind was the one on edge, worried as to why I was feeling all of this.

I hadn't eaten or drank anything at the compound. Maybe it was being poured into the room by the vents? I don't know, but something was making me feel this way.

The invisible hands drifted up my arms, massaging my shoulders for a moment. My head lulled back, almost hitting the back of the chair. My mind was on high alert, but my body was about ready to fall asleep. The hands relaxed me so much that my eyes began to flutter.

But then... they drifted down my torso. They traced along my neck gently, drawing small, insignificant patterns. The hands grew lower and lower until they finally were on my chest. I felt the hands cup my breasts softly, my breath hitching in my throat. They kneaded my tits gingerly, my nipples hardening in my bra. I bit my lip, praying that I wouldn't make a sound. It was hard not to, especially when the delicate fingers of these invisible hands found my nipples, gently pinching them.

I remember closing my eyes tight. Trying to clear my mind. This wasn't actually happening to me. There was no way. This was a psychosis or a drug hallucination that was happening to me and Colby was doing nothing about it.

One hand drifted down my body, stopping right above my sex. I suddenly became very aware at how wet I was, my eyes widening. I felt a rush of blood flow through my cheeks. I was about to get caught. These invisible hands made me wet, and I couldn't stop them.

And the terrible thing was, I didn't want them to. I wanted them to finish the job. To get me off... in front of Colby. One hand rose back up my body, grabbing my neck and turning my face to look up at him.

A deep voice whispered harshly, "You want him, don't you?"

I didn't say anything, afraid of what would come out. But deep down, I knew.

"Say it, and it's yours. Say you want him. And he'll have you... forever."

I opened my mouth. I felt the words almost leave my lips. I stuttered out something. I closed my eyes, my body feeling high.

And then in a split second, it was all gone. The room grew quiet, and Colby cleared his throat. "Y/N, are you okay? You look flush."

I jolted out of my seat, being able to move freely again. I looked around and realized Colby was sitting once more, staring at me concerned. I finished the interview abruptly, saying I had everything I needed - even though I definitely didn't. And then he uttered words I wish I didn't hear.

"If you want, come back tomorrow. We are having a celebration here. I would love if you came by, even if for an hour."

I nodded, not even really taking in what he said, and left. Trey was confused as to why I bum-rushed out of the room, but I never told him the truth. How could I?

I knew deep down I shouldn't have said yes to go to the party. But getting that footage would be killer for my article. Interviews are great, but a party at a cult compound? That's bound to end terribly (for Colby, but great for me).

But something in me can't shake this feeling that I basically signed myself up for the end. End of what? I'm not sure. But I'll find out tomorrow.

~~~~~~

Stepping back onto the compound made my heart race. I was nervous as all hell, and just wanted this day to be over with already. Today was my last day doing this story. I was counting the minutes to when I could go back to my office and write about how this place was insane, or whatever narrative I planned to write.

I had enough proof that something was up here. All I needed to do was a bit more digging. And during the party is when I planned to do it.

Avery walked up to me, smiling brightly. "Hey, Y/N! How are you doing today?"

"I'm okay. I know it's a bit early, but Colby never specified when the party was going to take place." I replied.

"No, you're totally fine. The party is gonna happen later. Right now, though, we have something going on that you'll definitely want to see." She clapped excitedly.

"Oh? And what is that?" I questioned.

"We are inducting a new member!" she exclaimed giddily. "There's a whole process that we do, and everyone is involved. I imagine that will bode well for your article if you see it firsthand. It's all taking place in that tent."

I stared over at the huge tent, its plastic cover doors strangely inviting.

I hummed, "Sure, I'll be there in a moment."

Avery nodded, turning on her heels and prancing over to the tent, following in other members.

"What's happening in there?" Trey asked.

"Apparently they are inducting someone new into their cult." I informed him.

He blinked. "Group, you mean."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, whatever. Make sure to capture as much as you can."

He shook his camera, giving me a wink, "On it."

We both walked in, many members still up and around, giving everyone hugs and chatting. Avery waved me down, patting the seat next to her. I walked over and sat. My body tingled in anticipation. I wasn't sure what was going to happen. My breathing picked up as everyone grew silent, the doors opening. Colby walked in, and people rushed to their seats.

Colby called out, "Hello everyone, good morning."

"Good morning, Colby." Everyone said in unison.

Jesus, that was creepy.

"A lot of things are going to be different today. First, we have guests watching our festivities. Y/N and Trey. Everyone, give them a hand." He gestured to the two of us.

The tent exploded in applause, Avery evening rubbing my back sweetly. It felt like I was being congratulated on something I didn't achieve, my cheeks flushing at the acknowledgement.

"And secondly, sadly, the new member we were going to have decided not to stay." He frowned, his face dropping.

Members gasped, some audible "oh no" echoed around the tent. Colby nodded his head sympathetically. “I know, but fret not. I think this will be a learning experiment for our new guests. We can still do our traditional motions of having someone join us. But, imagine it as if it's a mock ceremony instead. Ms. Y/N, would you please step up here?”

My heart stopped when he looked into my eyes, the first time since yesterday. I glanced at Avery, who grinned enthusiastically. She pushed me out of my seat, my body following her lead. I gazed around, finding Trey, who pulled away from his camera with a concerned look. I stumbled up the walkway, stepping on stage with Colby.

Colby lowered his voice so I could only hear him, moving away from the microphone. "I know you wanted to know about how we induct someone into our little home, so I figured why not use you as an example? We aren't actually inducting you, in case you’re worried. This is just what would happen if you were joining. Are you okay with that?"

I gazed around the huge, white tent, making eye contact with many people in the audience. They all looked so eager, waiting to hear my response. Some were even shaking with excitement.

I stuttered, feeling Colby squeeze my hands to bring my attention back to him, "I-I guess so."

"Fantastic." He turned, still holding one of my hands, "Alright everyone, you know the drill."

The crowd cheered, suddenly many lining up to a microphone at the side of the stage. Colby lightly pulled me to a cushioned throne, sitting me down. "So here's what's going to happen. People are going to come up to that microphone, and they are going to give you plenty of love. Genuine love. And then the next person will go, and so on until everyone has spoken."

"Everyone here? Like, all hundred plus of you?" I whispered.

"Yes. It's gonna be a while, so get cozy." He laughed, rubbing my shoulders.

Time felt frozen as slowly everyone came up and said something nice about me. Some were quick, mostly just commenting on how nicely I dressed or how the stories I had covered in the past were interesting and thoughtful. But others, it's like they could see into my soul and point out the exact thing I was insecure about. Everyone was complimentary and it was nice, but exhausting.

The line had dwindled down, and the next person to speak was Avery.

She stepped up the microphone, giving me a huge smile. "Hi, Y/N. I know we don't know each other that well, but I feel like I've known you my whole life. These couple days of getting to know you, being interviewed by you, have just been the highlight of my life. You are such a lovely presence to be around, and you deserve all the success you've gotten these last couple years."

Lots of people in the crowd nodded, agreeing with Avery. She continued, taking a deep breath, "I wanted to add - you are so deserving of love. You are easy to love too, and I hope that you are surrounded by people that make you feel that way. I know that this is just a mock ceremony, but I truly believe you would be such a great addition to us. I know you don't trust us, but I hope that soon you will find that you have a safe place here. Even if you never come back here again. This is your home now, and forever will be."

My chest heaved suddenly, tears welling up in my eyes. What the fuck is happening right now? Why was I crying at what she said? Sure, it was sweet and kind, but... how did she know I needed to hear that?

I turned my head, wiping the tears before anyone could see them fall. The crowd clapped as Avery left, going back to her seat.

The last couple people were a blur, my mind still hanging onto Avery's words. Suddenly, a hand was placed on my shoulder, jolting me out of my thoughts. I gazed up, seeing Colby's beautiful face staring down at me.

"The ceremony is done. Now, time to party."

~~~~~~

It had been a couple hours since the ceremony, my body feeling almost numb but jittery all at the same time. It was hard to shake all the love and words that were thrown my way today. Sure, some were probably just lying and saying random things because they had to, because they were conditioned to. But it freaked me out how some just... hit the right spots, knew my insecurities.

The party itself was fine. Two of the houses had parties happening in them, and since all three houses were connected, you could leave one and walk into another. There was a dancefloor full of people, and multiple fully stocked bars. Tons of food was at each table. It honestly looked like an adult prom. But I wasn't in a partying mood. Trey, on the other hand, was enjoying himself immensely. Girls and guys surrounded him, laughing at his jokes and bringing him plates of food and wine. One girl kept rubbing his thigh, staring at him longingly.

I wanted to leave. I had had enough of today, and I just wanted to be as far away from Empathic Love as I could be. I decided fresh air was what I needed, so I got up and slid out the back door of one of the houses, taking a deep breath. There were still too many people around, but I noticed the last house, the one with Colby's office in it, had no lights on and no one around it. I walked through the yards, stopping once I was by the back porch of the third house.

I sighed, leaning back against a railing. I could still hear the party going on, almost getting louder now that I wasn't there. I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed.

“Hey, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here." Colby's voice broke through my thoughts.

I exhaled. “Hi, Colby.”

He cocked his head, “Are you doing okay? You seem... upset.”

I felt this sudden rush of anger, knowing in reality he was to blame for all of this. “No, I'm not doing alright. I want to go home, I'm extremely overwhelmed by this party and all the people around here. That ceremony was too much for me to deal with, and the only way for me to get out of here is Trey and he's getting rubbed down by your followers!”

He took a step back, putting his hands up defensively. “Woah, that was a lot. You must have needed that release.”

I glared, “You think?”

“Look, I get it. It's a lot to take in. I myself don't love going to all these parties. It can be really overwhelming and if I'm honest, it gives me a lot of anxiety,” he admitted casually.

“You get anxiety?” I scoffed, “How? Everyone here loves you.”

“I know. That's the stressful part!” He sat on the railing, turning to me. “I'm the leader of this family. I have to make all the right decisions, and sometimes that means upsetting some of the people closest to me. Not to mention, so many eyes are on me, and it's just all too much sometimes. Even if you think this group is a cult, I still care for everyone here. I make sure they are fed, have a job, and have a life outside of here. And that's a lot to take on.”

“How do you deal with all of it, then?” I questioned.

“Patience. And a lot of alone time when I can get it - through meditation, specifically,” he laughed. “I was actually going to go meditate before I found you. Would you like to join me?”

I shook my head. “No, I'm good.”

“Are you sure? Look, at the very least, it will get you away from the party and all the noise. You don't even have to join me, you can just... sit in the room with me while I do it.” He argued, shrugging his shoulders.

I gazed at the party, everyone had grew rowdier while we were talking, and I didn't even notice. But my head felt like it was spinning from the noise alone. I sighed, nodding my head. Colby smiled, opening the door to the house, and I walked in first. I followed him up to his office, sitting down on his couch as he sat in the center of the room on the floor.

I raised an eyebrow. “That's where you meditate?”

“Yeah, I know it's a bit silly. But I feel so much more grounded... on the ground.” He replied cheekily.

I snickered, sitting back and watching him. He crossed his legs, resting his palms on his knees. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He took multiple breaths until they were low and shallow. I furrowed my brow, my eyes never leaving his form.

It almost seemed like he was asleep, or in a hypnosis of some sort. He was completely still and silent. A dull glow appeared at the top of his head, growing brighter and larger. I leaned away from him, my eyes widening at the sight. What the fuck is that...?

An aura grew around him, surrounding him completely. He didn't move, unfazed by it. His eyes remained closed, and with each breath it grew.

"How... are you doing that?" I uttered, my mouth a gape.

"Doing what?" He spoke in a monotone voice.

"That... aura. How are you doing that?" I pressed.

“I've always been able to do it since I was young. You can get closer if you want to.” He suggested.

How did he know I was still far away?

I stepped off the couch, moving closer to him. I kept my distance, but the aura was almost pulling me in. It was beautiful, the light reflecting and growing bigger. I was almost engulfed by it, but it stopped right before getting to me. I could feel its warmth, its energy. It was calling to me, beckoning me to step towards it.

The aura wrapped around me, filling me with light and love. Or at least that's what it felt like. I gasped at the sensation, my legs shaking underneath me. I breathed in deeply, my lungs filling up with fresh air. I didn't feel like I was in the room anymore. I felt like I was flying, the world almost zooming around me.

“Let your body relax, Y/N. I know it's so much to take in.” Colby’s calming voice spoke.

I felt my body give out on me, falling onto the soft rug. I laid down on my back, staring up at the ceiling. Visions began to swirl in my mind and around me.

How is any of this happening?

He answered, reading my mind. “Because of me. Because of us. Because of the connection you and I share.”

My body felt very heavy, unable to move even if I wanted to. I could move my eyes, and out of the corner of them, I saw Colby stand up. The aura remained around us, almost engulfing the entire room.

“You know, I knew the moment you stepped foot on to the compound's grounds, you were going to like it here. You were going to stay.” He smiled sincerely, gazing down at my body.

I blinked, confused. “What? I-I don't plan to-“

He cut me off, “This is the final step, Y/N. Everyone gave you love, people celebrated you, and now... I'm allowing you in.”

I wanted to shake my head, but couldn’t. “But I don't want to join.”

He chuckled, “Yes you do. If you didn't want it, none of this would have worked on you. You wouldn't be seeing what is directly in front of your eyes.”

The visions morphed around me, suddenly showing Colby and I. But we weren't us, we were different people, at a different point in time. But I could feel it was us. We were in love, growing a family together. Our lives were beautiful.

What the fuck is this?

“That is our past, or present, or future,” he winked. “The thing is, Y/N, I never seek out anyone. They all seem to find me.”

“That's not true, you emailed my boss about being interviewed.” I remarked.

"Oh, you are so forgetful, Y/N. You emailed us, begging to interview me and anyone else that said yes. I only agreed because I knew you wanted to meet with me. You sounded very eager to join in your email." Colby pulled out a piece of paper, reading from it happily, "Dear whoever reads this, I'm hoping to score an interview with your group, Empathic Love, for an article I am writing. I would love to meet Colby, and really pick apart his brain on why he created said group. Maybe I could even join if you guys win me over. Please let me know if any of this sounds of interest to you. Sincerely, Y/N of Global Gazette."

He leaned down, staring into my eyes mischievously, "Now does that sound like someone that didn't want to be here?"

My heart raced, suddenly scared. “Why don't I remember writing that?”

“I couldn't tell you. All I know is you wanted to be here. And there's a reason for it.” He sat down on the ground next to me. I wanted to get up and run, but my body stayed still, heavy. “Growing up, I realized very early on that certain people just... gravitated to me. A lot of women, yes. But really it was anyone. And not only did they gravitate towards me, they became obsessed with me. At first, I was confused, uninterested in ever going through that. Who wants someone obsessed with them? But then I realized how much good I could do with so many people rallying behind me.”

He continued, “As I got older, my ability, or power, or whatever it is - grew twice as strong. Suddenly, all the people around me followed me, did anything and everything I could ask for. Then, I began getting visions, and I understood why this was the case. Everyone here: we had a past life together. Their souls and mine have always been connected. They find me and then continue to stay. And almost always, they fall in love with me. It's just so glorious.”

“You're insane.” I mumbled.

He hummed, “Interesting, especially since you’re seeing the same things I am.”

It was true. The whole time he spoke, I saw vision after vision of our past lives together. We were always destined to meet, destined to be with one another.

“But the thing is, I know you're different from all the rest. You and I, we are meant to be together forever. You are meant to love me forever, and I am meant to love you. That's why my abilities affect you so greatly.” Colby divulged.

“What if I say no? What if I want to leave?” I grunted, trying to shake free.

“You've had the ability to go all this time. You just don't want to. You know how much love I can give you. You know how much pleasure I can give you as well.” He bit his lip, his eyes snaking up and down my body, “You've known that since yesterday, haven't you?”

Blood rushed to my cheeks, memories of yesterday played in my head.

“And do you know what’s crazy about that? That's not even half the pleasure I can give you.” Colby kneeled next to me, a devilish smile on his lips. His hand lightly brushed my face, cupping my warm cheek sweetly.

A burst of arousal raced through me, my body spasming in ecstasy. “Oh my God!”

“I know, it's a lot to take in. But I just want to make you feel good, darling. You deserve it.” He leaned in slowly, “You are mine, after all.”

"This is what your followers meant by a deep and sensual mental connection," I groaned, feeling hands all over my body, touching me in the most lustful of ways. "You got inside their heads and mentally fucked them."

“...That's one way of wording it. But if they didn't trust me, if they didn't already want me, it wouldn't happen.” He winced playfully, “So in reality, it's your fault.”

“Fuck you.” I growled.

“But baby, that's what's happening,” Colby laughed darkly. “Those hands, those kisses and bites... that's all mine. I can tell you're losing it. You want me real bad, but you don't want to admit it. I get it, you’re overwhelmed.”

I felt like my body was getting electrocuted with pleasure. My hips grinded into the air, needing some form of relief. My nipples strained against my bra, wanting any form of touch. I closed my eyes tightly, embarrassment rolling through me as I felt my damp panties against my sex.

Fuck, he was right. I did want this, and him.

I didn't even need to say it out loud. Suddenly I felt a cock slid inside of me, too easily from how wet I had become. I ripped my eyes open, looking around. Colby was watching me from his chair, smirking.

He palmed his hardening dick through his jeans. “Imagine how much better it would be if I was actually inside of you, filling you up with every. fucking. inch.”

I thought about screaming Trey’s name. Maybe he could help me.

He grimaced, rolling his eyes. “He won’t do anything for you, sweetheart. He joined our group just a couple weeks ago. Right around the time you sent the email. So really, you have all the more reason to join us.”

“Even if I join this cult, I will never stay here. I will leave here and never come back.” I hissed.

“And that is your choice to make. But Y/N,” his gaze lowered at me, his eyes intense. “You will never be satisfied. You got barely a taste of what I can offer you, and you're gonna want it forever. Just like everyone else here.”

“You're a- fuuuuuucckk!” I moaned, the cock inside of me hitting my spot deeper. I caught my breath, glaring at him. “Y-You're a freak.”

“Says the girl almost coming to my invisible dick.” He spat, clenching his jaw.

I bit my lip, annoyed at how right he was. The hands exploring my body gripped my ass, slapping it lustfully.

“Okay, okay. I'll agree with you. I am a bit of a freak of nature. But let's not act like I'm some monster. I let people leave. But they always come back because they choose to. I can't force people that far. Pinky promise,” He stuck his pinky out, and I rolled my eyes defiantly. He huffed, “It's not like this place is Scientology, for Christ's sake. We are love. I am love.”

“You are the most tainted form of love that I've ever met.” I retorted, gripping the rug to hide my building arousal.

He deadpanned, “Ow. That hurt.”

Colby strutted over to me, laying down right beside me. The pleasure grew more intense, my hips bucking desperately. His one hand hovered over me, never touching me. It didn't matter, because having him this close felt like his whole body was on top of mine, fucking me hastily.

“If you allow yourself to enjoy this feeling, you might actually come. Because I won't force you to. I'll just keep you here, for hours, riving in pleasure until your brain melts into goo.” He smirked, “How's that sound?”

"I-I hate you." I gritted my teeth. Why did I feel like I was lying?

"No you don't. But soon you'll be able to admit the truth." He leaned his mouth in close, his voice low and sincere, "I know that this place might not be what you imagined your home to be like, but it is. You will always have a place here. You will always be loved here. And I know that's what you want deep down. To be loved unconditionally. To have every fiber of your being satisfied. And if you let me, I will do that. I will please you every night, however you want me to. But for me to do that, you have to let me in. You have to let love in."

The cock inside of me pounded faster and faster. I could barely think anymore. The only thing on my mind... was him. The lives we had together, the life we could be having. I knew I shouldn't want it, but I did. I wanted him in my life, forever. He was what was missing, and I couldn't live one more day without him.

I mewled loudly, my hips thrusting up erotically. Colby's hand cupped my face gently, turning my head to look him in the eyes.

His alluring eyes stared deep into mine, his jaw clenched. "You will always be mine. I am love, and that is all you could ask for."

"You are love, and that's all I could ask for." I repeated mindlessly, grabbing onto his arm desperately.

His face softened, “That's right baby. You're such a good girl for me. My good girl, forever. You want that, don't you?”

“Yessss, please Colby. I want to be yours forever.” I keened.

"You will be. I promise, you will always be mine." His eyes darkened, the pupils almost completely blown out. "You will never leave."

"I won't!" I trembled, my orgasm building closer and closer to the edge.

“You wanna come, Y/N? Get close for me. Don't I feel so good inside of you? You like when I do this?” Colby's hand snaked down my body, rubbing my clit sensually.

I begged wantonly, dying to come. "Pleaseeeeee! Please let me come! I need it! I need you."

"Of course you do, baby. You and I need each other. Our connection is unlike anyone else's. Tell me the truth and I'll let you come." He leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear, "Tell me, baby. Say it..."

"I love you," I cried out, right on the edge. I direly wanted him to say it back, knowing it was already the truth.

“I love you too, baby,” he smiled sweetly, kissing my cheek. “Now, come for me.”

Hot, white pleasure shot through my body. I had the strongest orgasm of my life, my mind shattering as I rode every wave of pleasure that went through me. Colby stayed by my side, shushing me as my high lowered down more and more. He kept whispering 'I love you' repeatedly, my mind unable to hear or think anything else after a while.

I blacked out at some point but awoke when my body was lifted off the floor and placed softly into a bed. “Wha... happenin?” I slurred.

“Relax, darling. I just brought you to my bed. Well, our bed now,” he chuckled. “I want you to get your rest because tomorrow is a big day for you.”

“What's tomorrow?” I murmured.

“Your introduction to everyone as my soulmate.” Colby informed happily, tucking me in. “Everyone will be so pleased that you changed your mind about joining us.”

I nodded my head, snuggling deep into his bed. He dimmed the lights, whispering softly, "Welcome home, Y/N."

[liulith]

Why Vox’ one-sided psychosexual obsession with Alastor is PERFECT for a #radiostatic QPR

This fanwork is an edited version of a comment I wrote for a fic from the 666: Live on Air! Series by @prince-liest You don’t need to know the fic to understand it, though! Just keep in mind that those are headcanons based on a hypothetical established relationship between Alastor and Vox, in which Vox’s obsession for Alastor has changed flavors from hatred to love, and Alastor doesn’t return his feelings but finds his pathetic obsession entertaining, flattering and somewhat cute. (Also, this doesn’t address the past friendship (?) between them that is being hinted at by the photo in S1 finale, since we have zero context for that at the moment)

Why Vox is Like That

My headcanon is that Vox has always been the type to strive for power and recognition, always reaching for the top of the heap. The problem is that he’s too good at it.

Once he gets into whatever position of power he wanted, he gets bored because what he truly likes is fighting his way to the top. Whatever comes after can be enjoyable but it never compares to the “fight” itself – and thus Vox is always left unsatisfied, setting new goals to become even more powerful because *surely*, that’s what will finally bring him the sense of fulfillment he wants.

(We can kinda see it in his introduction. The man looks bored to tears before Alastor waltzes back into his life and turns him into a manic mess! Here’s a tumblr post about it)

This is precisely why I think Hell gave Vox hypnosis powers: the same reason it gave Alastor the body of a prey animal. It’s torture! With those powers, Vox can get almost anything he wants and he hates it. On Earth, people were a challenge; not everyone can be bought, and he had to rely on his skills.

Sure, he still has those skills in Hell; but in Hell, where every sinner is a potential enemy and the exorcists come down once a year, power is key to his survival and he has to take any victory he can get; meaning, he’ll never be able to *not* use his hypnosis powers, not as long as he wants to survive, even if that makes the fight to the top lose its appeal.

[Insert non-existent tangent on how Val not being affected by the hypnosis – because he’s half blind – is a key factor in Vox’ attraction to him]

Why Vox can’t NOT be obsessed with Alastor:

Alastor is powerful enough to resist his mind-control powers. Alastor can’t be swayed by Vox’ influence, his connections, his power, his money. In short, he’s a challenge. Vox needs to earn his attention, needs to work for it.

Thankfully for him, there *is* something Alastor is interested in: his genuine, unguarded, desperate self: the one that has a full manic episode/mental breakdown when he learns Alastor is back in town. The side of him he always hides under layers and layers of confidence, bravado and corporate talk!

And, deep down, that desperate side of him is exactly why he strives for power so hard in the first place. This man is full of insecurities and he NEEDS to be the biggest fish (shark) in the tank.

This means that Alastor is the embodiment of his deepest fears! He sees through all his bullshit, makes him lose all his composure, and is able to destroy him in EVERY WAY that matters. And yet, he doesn’t. Because, he tolerates (likes) him (in the context of this AU) just as he is, patheticness and all :3  I think there’s something very liberating about that.

Plus, Vox is a simp. He’s a manic sado-masochist who gets off on seeing Alastor humiliated and being humiliated himself, he wants Alastor helpless under his claws, wants Alastor to step on him and tear his heart out if that’s the only way Alastor would touch him, wants to have a cutesy dance-off with and make him laugh until his face hurts.

Oh Vox, we’re really in it now

He’s obsessed with Alastor and wants him in any way he can have him – and I think he’d be ready to give himself over to Alastor in any way Alastor wants to have him as well, because as long as it means Alastor wants something *from him*, it’s worth it. Even if it destroys him.

So, in a context where he has experienced Alastor being on friendly terms with him, where Alastor he has seen Alastor’s genuinely smiling at him and handing him the smallest crumb of affection, there’s just no turning back. Yes, he *could* still get off on seeing Alastor hurt because he’s deranged like that, but he doesn’t want it anymore.

or, well. the vicious, demonic part of him does still want to hurt him, but not exactly for the same reasons as before. It’s more of his caged beast of a heart wanting to make its predator pay for ruining it, in a desperate attempt to reduce his pain (at Alastor’s perceived “indifference”), to force Alastor to SEE him (not that he can. Lol).

BUT! he doesn’t need to do that now! Not when there is so much he would have to give up! So many other emotions, reactions he can get out of Alastor, knowing that HE did that!! To Alastor!! Him!! He cares so, so much. He’s the biggest shark in the tank but Alastor is the water around him. I suck at metaphors.

FML: Alastor edition

Hell turned Alastor into a prey animal because he has always felt like one. I think that at his core, he’s never going to get rid of his instinctual mistrust of others and fear of having any exposed vulnerability turned against him, because it’s part of a defense mechanism he developed since childhood.

He grew in Louisiana as a mixed-race* boy (*it's a bit more complicated than that since "Louisiana Creole" is not a racial designation but let's say Alastor is 100% mixed-race with a POC mom in this context), in an era of widespread lynching and racial segregation, at a time where millions of Black Americans migrated to the North because of the horrible socio-economic conditions of the South. Hell, he was alive during the great Mississippi flood of 1927 – the most destructive river flood of the entire history of the US – and he SAW the government refuse to prioritize the safety of the POC who were 75% of the population (literally; “The refugee camps also dealt with extreme racial inequality, as supplies and means of evacuation after flooding were given strictly to white citizens, with Blacks receiving only leftovers. African Americans also did not receive supplies without providing the name of their white employer or voucher from a white person. In order to fully exploit black labor, Blacks were frequently forced to work against their will, and were not permitted to leave the camps.”)

We don’t know if he was white-passing or visibly mixed, or if his white dad was in the picture, but since he only mentions his mother in canon I’m gonna run with the idea that she raised him alone. He seems to have had a positive relationship with her, which may have impacted his relationships with women in general. However, as a Creole woman, his mom couldn’t guarantee his safety in a society that was rigged against her.

So, he grew up learning the world was out to get him, that no one had his back, and that *performance* was key to his continued safety and survival. By performance, I mean learning how to act around white people to appear non-threatening/avoid being reduced to his ancestry/manage to “pass” well enough. But passing too well would also exclude him from his own community, as mixed people often are.

He also learned that despite his best efforts, no matter how competent he could become, some things would always be unfairly inaccessible to him for reasons outside of his control, and he couldn’t stand for it. The quiet rage, the humiliation, he took out on people by becoming a serial killer: permanently excluding “unworthy” people from society, and consuming them to assert his absolute dominance over them.

FML: Alastor edition. Why he would like Vox:

As the Radio Demon, Alastor has more power than he ever craved in his human life. He’s also vulnerable to the exorcists (Adam), to higher demonic powers (Lucifer, etc.) and was put on a leash by a mysterious character (Lilith? Eve? Roo?).

He’s more desperate for control than ever. It’s not that hard in his daily life, since most people (besides Husk and..? idk) don’t know he made a deal, and he can act like his usual confident self. However, it’s a control that is not unconditional, never absolute nor freely given.

And Vox? He’s hopelessly devoted to Alastor. Alastor has the upper hand on him in terms of raw power, but he also has the absolute psychological and emotional upper hand here. Vox is putting his heart and everything he has on the line in a way Alastor would never do in his worst nightmares. Vox is probably the only person who ever *let* Alastor have this much power over them, and Alastor loves to see it.

This, in turn, makes Alastor more willing to show his more vulnerable side, in a way he would never do if he were also in love with Vox imo. Because Vox is “only Vox” to him, and losing Vox wouldn’t destroy him the way it would if he returned Vox’ feelings, he’s paradoxically more likely to get closer to him. Being in love with Vox would make him too vulnerable and I honestly think that if he became that desperately attached, he would kill him in a fit of panicked narcissistic self-preservatory rage, to prove he’s stronger than this. He’d be too scared to have his feelings taken advantage of, and his brained is wired to kill anything that gets in his way.

Having Vox as a friend, however, is just perfect for him! Just the right amount of closeness and connection that enables him to give him his trust, without fearing he’s being blinded by feelings outside of his control. And knowing that Vox wants him *that* desperately but accepts Alastor’s inability and unwillingness to return this love, and is content to be given anything Alastor allows… Well, that’s heartwarming in its own right, isn’t it?

And THIS is why RadioStatic as a qpr/fucked up friendship with benefits has so much potential, to me! <3

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Why you gotta tempt my trouble?

Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 1

Series Masterlist           Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In college, Matt Murdock had two best friends, Foggy Nelson and you. However, life had no intention of letting you graduate with him. When he reconnects with you in adulthood, he is troubled to see the hand God has dealt you and vows to use every tool at his disposal to save you from damnation.

warnings: swearing, sickly sweet fluff, get ready for some pining y'all.

a/n: Here's the first chapter of the college fic! The next one won't be posted until I've written a few more (which might be a while because I'm trying to make them longer and I'm only one chapter ahead at the moment.) Please let me know if you like it and want to see more or be added to the taglist!

w/c: 5.3k

Digging the heels of your hands into your eyes, you resisted the urge to bang your head on the counter you sat at in an attempt to reboot the organ. This passage made no damn sense and you had mere days to understand it and conform to its ideals in order to do well in the class that it was assigned to. Biting your lip, you flipped back a few pages to start the chapter over for the third time when the sound of someone clearing their throat nearly startled you out of your seat. 

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, I didn’t see you!” Saving your place in the worn book, you looked up to find a young man standing before you. He was handsome, with fluffy, inky locks and a charming smile on his lips. 

“That’s alright, I, uh, can’t quite fault you there.” He smiled sideways at you, gesturing to the opaque rectangular frames on his nose. Your mouth formed an “O” shape before you tripped over your response. 

“I want to laugh but that feels wrong. Is it more rude to laugh or not laugh? Oh god, forget I said that, I—“ 

The boy in front of you chuckled. “It’s quite alright, and it was meant to be a joke.” 

“Right, well, sorry again. How can I help you?” You clasped your hands, tilting your head as you waited for his response. 

“I was wondering if you had braille copies of any of these textbooks?” As he posed the question, the handsome boy passed you a list of the textbooks he was looking for. 

Looking over the document, you pursed your lips. “That is a fantastic question that we will have to answer together. I wish I knew off the top of my head, but today's only my third day on the job.” You cringed, wishing your manager was here. 

“I imagine it’s not a common question, so I won’t hold it against you.” There was that charming smile again. Your insides felt like they were slowly melting under his grin. 

“That’s, um, very kind of you.” You stammered out, feeling heat flood your cheeks. 

“Matt.” He broke in. “Matt Murdock. And you are..?”

Offering your name, you dutifully turned back to the index, scanning the pages for any clue as to where braille copies would be stocked. 

“That’s a pretty name, it suits you.” Your fingers halted in their dance across the page, your eyes flitting back to the gorgeous customer. 

“As much as I appreciate that, turning up the charm won’t change the fact that it might take a minute for me to find these.” Your eyes narrowed as you became skeptical of his intentions. 

“Take your time. It’ll give me more time to get to know you.” The flirty grin never faltered on Matt’s face. 

“Oh you’re trouble.” You shook your head, thumbing through the pages of the file before you. “I’m starting to think I should search on my own.” 

Matt just laughed, leaning forward on his white cane and grinning at you. “Where should we start?”

“I have a couple ideas.” 

You and Matt searched far and wide for accessible copies of the textbooks he needed. While they—thankfully—did exist, they were scattered throughout the store haphazardly, not in either location the index had suggested. The lack of care and attention the volumes had gotten was making you progressively more irritated. There was absolutely no reason these books should’ve been treated with such disrespect, even if they weren’t commonly asked for. 

After finding all but one book on his list, it was barely past store closing. Locking the door with a huff, you clocked out before joining Matt where he was seated on the ground by the first shelf. 

“I hate to say this, but I think we might need to order you a new copy.” You remarked with a frown, scuffing your shoe along the faded carpet on the bookstore’s floor. 

Matt, whose pleasant personality hadn’t dimmed despite the lackluster findings, simply chuckled, knocking his shoulder into yours. 

“Well, we gave it the old college try, so to speak.” He waggled his eyebrows at you above his dark glasses. 

You groaned, but couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped your throat. Despite your intense introversion and social awkwardness, Matt put you at ease. 

“Sorry, my roommate is rubbing off on me.” He gave an exaggerated grimace. 

“Is he a law student too?” 

“Yep. Foggy Nelson. The three of us might actually have some classes together.” Matt’s face lit up with the idea. You’d confessed during your hunt that you had already purchased your own copies of many of the books on his list. Given that you were both first year law students, it made sense that you’d be in classes with one another, but you felt a weight lift off your chest nonetheless.

“Honestly, that makes me feel so much better. I’m incredibly nervous.” You confessed, focusing on a fraying patch of carpet underneath your sneaker. 

“I’m sure you’ll do great.” Matt leaned against you, focusing on you in a way that made your chest flutter. 

“See you say that not knowing how long it’s taking me to get through the first reading assignment for Legal Methods.” You dropped your head into your hands, remembering the cursed passage from earlier. 

“Foggy mentioned something about that book. It’s…outdated?” 

“That’s an understatement. The first chapter is about a famous eugenics case, Buck v Bell, and I might be reading it wrong but it seems like the author is suggesting that we don’t have ableism that resembles that of the case in current day? I was getting so frustrated reading it that I honestly couldn’t tell if it was confusing or just a stupid argument.” You explained. 

“It’s in the McKinnon book, right? If you want, we could read it together and try to figure it out? Unless you have somewhere else to get to…” Matt Murdock, the charming, unswayable man you’d met a few hours ago blushed at the question, making you grin. 

“I would love to hear your opinion on the text, Mr. Murdock. We can start an unofficial study group.” 

“I like the sound of that. Let’s crack open this shit show.” Matt let you pull him off the ground and over to your work station where he opened his own copy of the text and began to read. 

A few hours and more than a few boxes of takeout later, you and Matt were still working your way through the chapter, though you’d both decided with certainty that the text was more angering than confusing. 

“If the professor is as ableist as this author, I’ll never be able to pass this class.” You grumbled, shoving the hellish book away from you. “There’s no way I can pretend that eugenic ideals have disappeared, even for a better grade.”

“Seriously. I’m hoping it’s supposed to make us mad so we can argue about it? Though I seriously doubt everyone will be on our side, unfortunately.” Matt scowled. 

“Well, at least we have each other, right?” The man in front of you perked up with that comment, but you hurriedly corrected yourself. “And your roommate, of course.” 

Deflating slightly, Matt scratched the back of his neck. “Speaking of, I should probably get back so he doesn’t send out a search party. I’ll see you in class?” 

“See you then, trouble maker.” You murmured, smiling softly at him. 

“Have a good night, sweetheart. Get home safe.” 

“You too.” 

A few days later, your evening with the sweet law student had fallen to the back of your mind as nerves about your first semester of classes set in. Fidgeting with your outfit in the mirror, you inhaled a shaky breath. 

“Stop worrying, you’ll be fine!” The voice of your roommate, Jen, rang out across your shared loft making your brow furrow. 

“Easy for you to say! You’ve done this before.” You groused, still examining your reflection. Jen was an old friend of yours who had lived down the street from you growing up. The two of you had been practically inseparable since elementary school, despite the fact that she was two years older than you. 

“Jen’s right, you know.” Oscar, Jen’s long-term boyfriend and your unofficial second roommate, squeezed your shoulder on his way to the kitchen. “Everyone is going to be nervous, so they won’t have time to judge you.” 

“Yah, yah. I appreciate the votes of confidence but, unfortunately, my anxiety and I have to hit the road. I would rather not be late.” 

“Have fun!” Oscar called as you grabbed your bag.

“You’re gonna kill it!” Shouted Jen as you exited the apartment. 

You shook your head, hoping they were right, and set off for your first ever Columbia Law class. 

The trek across campus was pretty and the walk helped you calm your racing thoughts. The walkways were littered with other first year students who looked more clueless than you—including a blond boy with a kind face who was staring quizzically at a kiosk in front of him that was plastered with event flyers. 

He muttered to himself for a moment before reaching to the side of the kiosk obscured from your view and tugging on the arm of someone beside him. “Ok dude, according to this map we should be heading…” He paused, squinting at the paper he was reading before dramatically pointing left. “West!” 

“That’s East.” You chuckled, walking over to inspect the map for yourself. As you neared the misguided fellow, your eyes widened as you recognized his friend. “Matt?” 

Laughing brightly and greeting you, Matt tugged free of the other man’s grip and strode over to you. “Are you following me?” He narrowed his eyes at you but his tone remained playful. 

Shoving him, you scoffed. “You wish, Murdock. I was going to warn your friend here that the upperclassmen usually put up fake maps as a prank on the first day of classes.” 

“Thank god we have someone to warn us of their cruelty, or we’d be dead meat!” The blond spun around and bowed in front of you. “Franklin Nelson, at your service m’lady. You can call me Foggy” 

You giggled, introducing yourself. “It’s such a shitty prank. Thankfully, I have roommates who are in their third year and they showed me around weeks ago. Where are you headed?” 

“Greene Hall.” Matt informed you. 

“Oh, that’s where I’m headed too! Civil Procedure? With Professor McGuiness?”

“The very same! We’re damn lucky to have run into you.” Foggy sighed, shaking his head. 

“It’s this way, and we aren’t too far. We’ll probably get there early.” 

“That’s good because this one,” Foggy stuck a thumb at Matt, “Has this idea that we need to sit in the front if we don’t want to fail. I’d be perfectly fine sitting in the last row and never being called on once!” 

“Studies show that sitting in one of the first few rows increases retention!” Matt elbowed his roommate who just snorted. 

“Retention schmention. I say we sit by the cutest people in the class and have them tutor us when we inevitably fail.” Foggy winked at you and you laughed. 

Matt squeezed your arm, leaning closer to you. “I think that can be arranged regardless.” 

Heat rose in your cheeks as his flirtatious grin made a reappearance. “Oh shut up, trouble maker, or I’ll sit in the very last row just to spite you.” 

“We wouldn’t want that.” Matt held out an arm, “Mind walking me to class, sweetheart?”

Rolling your eyes, you turned to Foggy. “How do you put up with him? You’re a Saint, truly.” But you took Matt’s arm anyway, ensuring that you were keeping a steady pace and avoiding anything he might trip over. 

The walk to your first law class was, eventful, to say the least. Matt and Foggy were clearly soulmates of a sort, with their nonstop bantering and the way they balanced each other out. Foggy was a ray of sunshine, while Matt was more comfortable in the shadows, so to speak. The blond was all loud declarations and bright smiles, while Matt was more low toned flirting and quiet observations. They were both incredibly intelligent, overly sarcastic, and had a flair for the dramatic. You were ecstatic to have stumbled into their lives. 

Matt had successfully cajoled the both of you into sitting with him in the second row, a compromise which Foggy considered a huge win. As students filed in, you subconsciously fiddled with your shirt, suddenly feeling incredibly insecure about your presence in this classroom. A gentle hand grabbed your wrist, making you jump. 

“Relax,” Matt whispered. “You look fine, trust me.” 

“How do you know?” You murmured nervously. 

“Those boys a few rows behind us are staring.” Matt’s smile remained, but his voice held a tension you couldn’t quite place. “And the TA is trying very hard not to.” 

“How on earth can you tell that?” You raised an eyebrow at him, incredulous. 

“Matt is seriously like some sort of super powered being. He has the greatest intuition of anyone I’ve ever met. Best to trust him about these things.” Foggy nodded solemnly, clearly trying not to burst out laughing. 

You simply rolled your eyes, pulling your notebook from your bag. Opening it to the correct page, you stifled a giggle as Foggy leaned over Matt’s lap to whisper-yell at you. 

“Why do you already have notes written? Matt, why does she already have notes written?” 

“I like to come prepared. I took notes on the first few chapters of the book.”

“But we didn’t even have an assignment for this class!”

“Yah, but I was bored at work and I thought I’d get a head start.” You just shrugged but Foggy glared at you, shaking a finger in your face. 

“You’re gonna make the rest of us look like slackers! You, missy, have some apologizing to do.” 

“For doing my due diligence?” You laughed. 

“Yes! For being too proactive. I think you owe us a tutoring session or two.” Foggy crossed his arms with a huff. 

“You have no idea if I even know what I’m doing, these notes could be gibberish!” You chuckled, shaking your head. 

“Nope, it’s good material. I can tell. You owe us. Doesn’t she, Matt?” Foggy elbowed his roommate who smirked. 

“I think he might be right, sweetheart. What would you say to being the leader of our study group.” Matt tilted his head, focusing on you. 

“Do I have a choice?” You sighed. 

“No!” Foggy exclaimed at the same time Matt responded, “Not really.”

“Then I accept, but I want my objection noted.” 

“It’s all in the record, don’t worry.” Foggy waved a hand, turning his attention back to the front of the room as the Professor walked to the front. 

The rest of the week went similarly, as you had three of four classes at the same time as Matt and Foggy. They made great company, so you could hardly complain, but it was the first meeting of your “unofficial official study group” (as Foggy had dubbed it) and you were quite nervous. 

You were fairly confident that you knew what you were talking about, but the idea of being the backbone for two other grades besides your own was quite stressful. Not to mention the jittery feeling you got every time your brain reminded you that you’d been in Matt’s room with him for an extended period of time. You chided yourself, Matt—though he was incredibly flirty—was one of the best friends you’d ever had, and you’d be damned before you jeopardized that because you were touch-starved and more than a little thirsty. 

Taking a deep breath to keep your antsy libido in check, which was getting increasingly difficult given the fact that you were sitting atop Matt’s bed practically cuddled against him, you turned your focus to the space in front of you for a moment of redirection. 

The room was small, a standard dorm room with two long skinny bed frames that held stiff foam mattresses, two identical desks with chipped paint and lumpy rolling chairs, and a bolted-shut window. Although the room was dim and cramped, the view was gorgeous, overlooking a rectangular patch of grass framed with lush green trees and the distant Manhattan skyline, bright with yellow lights against the black of the atmosphere.  

Shifting your focus to the inside of the room, you smiled at the dichotomy on full display. While it was clear both boys had cleaned in preparation for your visit, Foggy’s side of the room was haphazardly straightened, with loose socks peeking out from underneath the bed and a handful of stray candy wrappers still visible atop his desk. Matt’s half of the space was meticulously organized, complete with braille labels. It was clear that everything had its place. 

A shoulder nudged yours and you choked on a breath in your haste to turn towards the presence beside you. Matt smirked, but a small crease was present between his brows. “You ok? You stopped reading…”

“Yup!” You squeaked, clearing your throat and trying again. “Yes, sorry. Got distracted by your view.” Which was mostly true... 

“Is it nice? Foggy’s never told me.” Matt grins sideways at you, furrow on his smooth skin fading. 

“It’s…stunning. There’s a lot of green up front, with the lawn and plants and whatnot, but the red brick buildings contrast beautifully. And behind campus you can see the rest of the city, like we’re in an urban valley almost. It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen.” 

“It sounds pretty. You should describe more sights for me, sweetheart. You’re good at it.” 

Heat ran up your face at the compliment, pulsing in your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Turning from the window, you found your chest settling calmly as you studied Matt’s face. You’d never been this close to him and it was startling how easily his innocuous expression stirred up emotions in you. 

He had the slightest shadow of stubble gracing his sharp jawline. As you ran your eyes along his face, you found yourself lingering on the beautiful hazel eyes, nearly blocked by his dark glasses. The blank, honey-bronze orbs held more emotion than you’d ever seen in someone’s expression. In the small time you’d known Matt, you found yourself constantly moved by his passion—for his city, for justice, for Foggy, even for you. 

“So can we get back to the precedent of Buck v. Bell or are you just gonna stare lovingly at Matt all night?” Foggy smiled sweetly at you but the glint in his eyes made it clear he was annoyed. 

“I wasn’t—I mean I—“ You sputtered, scootching farther away from Matt in an effort to conceal your obvious crush. 

“Whatever. It’s late and I’d like to finish soon. Precedent?” Foggy prompted, pointing to his textbook. 

“Well, the main point is that disabled and institutionalized individuals were no longer considered to have the same rights as other people.” Matt huffed, thumbing through his textured pages. 

“Right. And the opinion implies that losing rights through due process opens you up to losing rights in the future without another trial.” You added, squinting at a particular paragraph for clarity. 

“Which sucks, but checks out for 1927.” Foggy frowned. 

“If I’m interpreting the important parts correctly, this case is meant to highlight an important consequence of precedent, which is that one decision can impact the judicial system for decades, even over important things like due process.” You explained, turning to Matt. “Is that what you got from this?”

“That’s about what I interpreted, yah.” Matt nodded, giving Foggy a sly grin. “That enough of an explanation for ya, Nelson? Or do we need to break it down point by point.” 

“Shut up, Murdock.” Foggy grumbled. “I’d be better with this if I wasn’t dog-tired.” 

“You’re doing great, Foggy. Don’t listen to him. All we have left to do this week is read for Torts and then we are home free.” You smiled sympathetically. 

“Ugh!” Foggy flopped down onto his pillows, covering his face with his hands. 

“Not to be a pain, but I don’t have this text…” Matt shifted uncomfortably, biting his lip. 

“That’s alright, I can read mine aloud. If that’s ok with you, Foggy?” You looked to the half-asleep law student for confirmation who nodded tiredly. 

“If it allows me to close my eyes, I’d be more than happy to listen.” 

Matt chuckled, before tilting his head towards you. “Can I come closer? To make sure I don’t miss anything?” You could’ve sworn you saw Foggy roll his eyes, but you blinked and he remained still as a corpse against his pillows. 

“Of course, Matt. Here.” Shuffling closer to him, you lay the textbook across both of your laps, trying incredibly hard to not focus on how warm he was. “This ok?” 

Matt nodded, mouth parted slightly and your eyes followed his tongue as it darted out to wet his lips. For a moment, all you heard was static and the soft puffs of Matt’s breath. Coming back into your body, you shook your head to clear out the lovestruck cobwebs. 

“Ok, um, Introduction to American Civil Law: Chapter 1, Liability and Negligence…”

To tell the honest truth, Matt hadn’t taken in a word you’d spoken since you passed the introductory paragraph. Legal jargon washed over him like the water of a warm bath, spoken by a soothing dulcet voice and punctuated by the steady thump of your kind heart. Your thigh was resting against his and he could feel the tension in your neck as you desperately kept it mere inches from its desired landing place on his shoulder. Your soft t-shirt brushed over his arm with each expanse of your chest as you inhaled, rubbing more of your sweet lavender and vanilla scent over his skin. 

As you continued to be blissfully unaware of his lack of attention, or rather his abundance of attention, his body was fighting an internal battle to not sweep you into his arms and bury his face in your neck. 

Leaving St. Agnes had been a culture shock for the ages, but Matt was beginning to love it. The orphanage had been an overwhelmingly lonely place, which Matt attributed to his tendency to pick fights and his disability causing him to stand out. Meeting his new roommate had been nerve wracking, but Foggy was as easy to like as the first ray of sunshine in the spring, despite his grumpiness when he was exhausted. Sure he was messy and his snoring had kept Matt awake for hours, but he had a massive heart. Though he and Foggy had very different lifestyles, the other man fit perfectly into his life, as did you. Matt was more than aware of his tendency to form quick attachments, but his feelings toward you were an entirely different beast. 

The night he’d met you in the bookstore, an invitation to go on a date with him had been teetering on the edge of his tongue for hours. Flirting came naturally to him, one of the many reasons he didn’t get along with the other boys of Clinton Church, but given his less than standard childhood, he’d never had the opportunity to start a relationship. Every minute he spent with you made it more obvious that you deserved to be loved, not aimlessly thrown into a date or two, and Matt wasn’t sure he would be able to provide that. At least not now.

An ear-splitting snore sounded from the other side of the room, abruptly ending his daydream. Your arm left its place at his side as you stifled a laugh. “Guess I was more boring than I thought.” 

“Trust me, it’s not because of you. That man could fall asleep to the sound of a fire alarm if he tried hard enough.” Matt smirked, humor not quite reaching his eyes as his brain mourned the loss of your touch. Feeling you shift tensely next to him, he pondered for a moment. “If you’re worried about waking him, we could go somewhere else?”

“Where would we go at 2 in the morning on a Thursday?” You groaned, desperately aching to be done with school work for the week but simultaneously more than willing to spend all night with Matt. 

“I know a place. But we will probably want this blanket.” Matt grinned at you as your confusion peaked, but you threw the blanket over your shoulder and took his hand nonetheless. 

How your friend had discovered that the roof of Butler Library remained accessible after hours via a secluded maintenance stairwell, you’d never know—but you couldn’t help but thank the heavens for granting you this slice of paradise. 

The cement that compromised the roof was cold, a symptom of being deprived of the sun for hours now, but you and Matt lay huddled together on his bedspread, lounging in a pocket of warmth your closeness had created. You were practically snuggling, which was not helping soothe the part of your brain that was rabidly attracted to him, sharing your highs and lows from the week. 

As the two of you giggled about an incident with a pigeon that had decided to attend Civil Procedure, you found your eyes tracing over the moonlit form of the beautiful man before you, who seemed to notice your staring as his lips quirked up. “So, tell me, sweetheart, how’s a girl like you end up in a place like this?” 

With an exaggerated groan, you shoved him playfully. “You and your damn lines, Murdock.” 

With a chuckle, Matt’s expression turned from something entirely playful into one of genuine interest.  “Seriously, what brought you to Columbia?” Feeling your heart pound under his blank gaze, you blew out a breath. 

“That is a long, sad story that I’m sure you don’t really—“

“If you don’t want to tell me, I totally get it. But I’d like to know more about you.” Matt’s answer was honest and lacking his perpetually flirty edge that kept you at a safe distance, which sent a burst of heat to your stomach that you weren’t expecting. 

“Oh, well...” Sighing deeply, you considered your options. You’d had a hard time making friends in the past, and had a tendency to over share (or so you’d been told), but Matt had asked for the real answer. That meant he really wanted it, right?

Steeling yourself for the impending rejection, you confessed. “I’m originally from Connecticut. Small little town called Bridgewater, about an hour from New Haven. It’s just me and my mom, really. My dad lives in godknowswhere, Virginia with my two siblings and his girlfriend. He’s…kinda the worst, so we don’t talk much. My mom though, she’s amazing. I owe everything to her.” 

Matt smiled at you, nodding encouragingly when you hesitated. 

“Um, yah, so long story short, she was diagnosed with cancer when I was a kid. My dad has sort of always been a jackass but her prognosis…I don’t know, it was the last straw for him. I don’t remember much but they started arguing about money and then, he took everything. I didn’t realize it at the time, my mom is the nicest person on the planet and she would never blame my dad for her misfortune, but we lost our house, she lost her job, her assets, two of her kids—though they didn’t fight to stay like I did. The longer I lived, the more curious I became about everything and when I did some digging in high school, I found out my dad had claimed everything in the divorce. He and his attorney had argued that my mom was abusive and financially exploiting him and the judge gave him anything he asked for. I decided I wanted to be a lawyer so I could stop others from going through what my mom and I have.” 

The story poured out of you, relieving a pressure you’d been carrying for as long as you remembered. Matt simply listened intently, emotions passing over his face in small flashes as you described your past. Realizing all of the bullshit you’d just dumped on him, you cringed. 

“I’m sorry, that was a lot, I just…” Matt’s brow furrowed and his hand shot out to cup your elbow. 

“No! No, I’m just so sorry that happened. Your dad sounds like a piece of work.” He gave a disgusted grimace and you giggled. 

“He is. My mom still loves him though, bless her heart. We spend Christmas with him every year like he didn’t ruin her life.” The laugh that you have held no humor. “Anyway, that’s my backstory. What about you, trouble maker?” You leaned into the loose hold Matt kept on your arm, eager to learn more about him. 

“Well, I’m from New York. Hell’s Kitchen, born and raised just like Foggy. I, uh, I never knew my mom. Was close with my dad, though. He was a boxer, taught me a lot about fighting, persistence.” Matt’s face fell slightly as he paused. Intertwining your fingers with his, your smile softened. 

“He sounds like a good man.” 

Matt nodded. “Yah, he uh, he was. He died when I was 9.”

Eyes widening, a hasty apology spilled out of you. “Oh Matt, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—“ A squeeze of your hand stopped you in your tracks. 

“It’s ok. I do miss him, though. After he died, I was taken in by an orphanage, raised by nuns. This is, really the first time I’ve lived without feeling like I’m being watched.” Matt chuckled awkwardly, removing his fingers from yours to push up his glasses. “Law interested me for a reason similar to yours, I suppose. My dad, uh, he was murdered. Organized crime hit. I tried to get someone, anyone really, to bring the group to justice and I…failed. Made me realize the justice system needs more devoted participants, I guess.” Taking his hand back into yours, you ran a thumb over his knuckles, allowing him to collect his thoughts before continuing the conversation. 

“So you’re interested in criminal law then?” Your heart flipped happily as Matt’s starlit face lit up again. 

“Honestly, I’m interested in most of it. But the more I learn about the world, the more I realize how important criminal defense is. My dad’s murder inspired this journey, but what I do with the degree, it’ll be in his memory. I’m starting to think that defense would be the best way to honor him.” 

How on Earth did you manage to find the sweetest boy on campus? “That’s…beautiful Matt. Really. He must be so proud of you already.” 

Matt’s lips twitched but he seemed unsure. “Maybe he should wait to see if I actually get this degree. Torts is already shaking up to be a nightmare.” 

“Ugh, that’s for damn sure.” You laughed breathily, shivering as a breeze pierced your thin shirt. 

Face twisting with concern, Matt ran his hand over your arm. “Are you cold? Sorry, I didn’t think it would get this chilly out.” 

“Oh, it’s ok! I’m not that cold.” You assured him, relishing in the soft brushes of his calloused fingertips over your arm. 

Raising a brow at you, Matt pulled off the crew neck he was wearing, handing it to you. “Humor me.” 

Rolling your eyes at his demanding tone, you slipped the garment over your head. The worn gray sweatshirt was soft and comfortably warm with Matt’s body heat. It was such a pleasant relief from the frigid cement that you had to bite back a groan. Breathing in the earthy, clean scent that always followed Matt, you sighed in relief. 

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” Matt grinned. 

The night didn’t go on for too much longer after you spilled your guts to your new friend. At his insistence, you called Oscar and Jen to come pick you up rather than walking home. 

You fell asleep easily that night and, while it would be easy to blame the late hour, the fabric of Matt’s sweatshirt wrapped around you may have had something to do with it. 

[brassknucklespeirs]

Sᴄᴀʀʏ Dᴏɢ Pʀɪᴠɪʟᴇɢᴇ [Jᴏᴇ Tᴏʏᴇ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

Genre: Speed run enemies to lovers??? But also funny and cute???

Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of sexism, descriptions of warfare, mention of blood and wounds, the general idea is if you couldn't handle band of brothers, don't freaking read this okay?

Disclaimer: No disrespect to the real men of WW2, this is based off the actors portrayal from HBO

HI GUYS! I'M SO EXCITED THIS IS MY FIRST FIC BACK AND I'M SO HAPPY WITH IT SO PLEASE ENJOY! I'VE MISSED YOU GUYS LIKE CRAZY

To say Y/N was not warmly welcomed as a female replacement in Easy Company was an understatement. She was at the bottom of the food chain at this point; the Toccoa men being at the top, with her fellow replacements being beneath them, and then her at the very bottom thanks to her lack of an extra limb between her legs. In all honesty, she wasn't as bothered as she thought she would be, but perhaps that was because after making it through basic training she was more than use to being leered at; whether it was in distain, lust, or indifference was dependant on the man.

It wasn't all bad she guessed, but even in those men who did show her kindness, she still saw the hint of apprehension in their eyes as the smile they held didn't quite cover the look from their gaze. She was the only female in Easy company, while all of the other women that she had trained with were sent to Dog and Fox company. She held a sliver of envy because of this, for she didn't truly understand why none of the others had joined her in Easy, and yet here she was, the only woman in a company of men who saw her as a silly little girl playing dress up. Any time the monachopsis had crept in she pushed it away, reminding herself of why she was here, why she was persisting through the cold, both that which she was dealt from the men and that which the snowy terrain of Bastogne had brought her freely.

She kept to herself mostly, though it drove her slightly mad as she wished to share the unfamiliar sense of comradeship that she saw flowing between the men around her. Y/N would often find herself staring longingly as she watched them unconsciously huddle closer to each other to keep warm, while her stomach clenched in disappointment as they shared quiet laughter in their foxholes, exchanging jokes and light-hearted taunts to bring their spirits up as much as they could.

Yet here she was, alone in every meaning of the word except physically, holed up in a foxhole with someone who did not care for her existence as he looked down on her as a nuisance. Y/N's gaze would often flicker to the man beside her, taking note of how he pressed himself as close to his side of the dirty dugout in the ground, like she was a plague to be avoided. She could never stop her teeth from sinking into the raw flesh of her chewed bottom lip to keep herself from speaking to him, knowing the last time she had tried, he had ripped into her. The man had thrown insults and harsh words about how she was an army experiment gone wrong, and how the only reason she was allowed to be here is because they were that desperate for running targets to distract the Nazis from shooting at the 'real' soldiers. Every word had hit its mark but she refused to show it, keeping up her façade of indifference and annoyance until he had turned his back on her, at which point of time she had shifted her head in the opposite direction to let the tears that threatened to spill fall down her cheeks.

It was easy to see how Joe Toye was the man everyone painted him out to be, yet where others saw him as strong-willed she saw him as stubborn, and in the place of being a good leader, she had seen a pushy prick who expected those around him to bend and shape to his will. His sense of arrogance truly did stun her when she first arrived to the front, and though she never really got over it, she learnt how to play the ignorant card for the sake of her sanity; or perhaps for the sake of her position in Easy company, for she wasn't quite sure if she would be kept around if she bad-mouthed one of her sergeants. Yet it was in moments like that, when Joe used the consistent excuse of needing to watch the line to keep his glare off of her that she would watch anything but the line. She hated herself for it sometimes, knowing that her lack of normality had caused her to seek out any familiar comfort she could around her. The familiar comfort in question being the picture of a handsome face. He was all sharp angles from side on, with his sculpted jawline and large, curved nose, and she found herself flitting her gaze over his features in moments of quiet. A little too easy on the eyes for someone lacking any means of a soft spoken personality, she had thought to herself once as she forced herself to look away from him.

Y/N's jaw ached from how tightly she was grinding her teeth, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso as she tried to savour in her own warmth. Her gaze held envy as she eyed Malarkey, Muck, Penkala and Luz huddled together, giggling to one another while they talked in hushed voiced. She wished to know what it felt to relish in the cosiness they seemed to hold between one another, wanted to know what it was to laugh over such meaningless jokes to break through the bitter sensation that wrapped its way around her lonely heart. She huffed out a breath of frustration as she downed the rest of the lukewarm coffee that Lipton had previously handed her, the cup having already been half drunk when the first sergeant had taken pity on the clearly shivering woman and offered her the rest. Y/N sent Lip a small but grateful smile when she handed him back the mug as he shuffled past her, a stiff nod of his head and his own small smile being the acknowledgement she received before he walked off.

Y/N rolled her rigid shoulders as she walked back towards her and Joe's foxhole, her rifle tucked tightly between her arms and chest while her hands were squished under her armpits to savour the little warmth her body gave off. Her entire body froze for a moment as a whistling sound rung through her ears, carried through the breeze from the town of Foy below them. Y/N's head snapped behind her to look towards Lip over her shoulder, the first sergeant stared back at her with wide eyes, the both of them letting the realisation fall over them. Lipton's voice of authority resonated over the company members close by as he yelled to take cover over and over again, a mix of alarm and agitation leaking off every sharp syllable. Y/N's feet seemed to move without any further thought when the first shell hit the ground with an almighty bang, digging its nose into the dirt before scattering it across the frozen terrain. She threw herself into the closest cover she could, a shallow foxhole that looked as if it had been given up on halfway through being dug, her arms immediately covering her head while she pressed her cheek against the snow. From the position she was in, she was able to see the chaos that ensued around her as trees exploded and men screamed over the noise at one another. Her teeth sunk into the skin on the inside of her cheek, and the metallic taste of blood told her she had clenched too harshly as the anxiety built up in her chest.

The lone figure of a man in the distance caught her attention as they seemed to be the only person who had stupidly continued to scramble for cover while those around him had found theirs. Her gaze shifted to the trail of shells hitting the forest floor, and her uneasy grew, noting that the path they travelled was heading straight for the running soldier. She wasn't quite sure what led her to the point of brainlessness but in a split second decision, she was up and out of the half dug foxhole, her feet pushing her full force across the snowy ground towards him, her quads aching with every step. The cold wind blasted across her face while several bursts of heat would hit her cheek as the shells grew closer to her. Her heart felt ready to leap out of her chest as she watched the trail of destruction close in to her position with every step she took closer towards the figure. With seemingly seconds to spare, her body collided harshly with his, throwing his body to the side as they narrowly avoid a shell that blew the trees behind them to splinters. Y/N wasted no time as her hands gripped at the man's uniform and pulled him from the ground though a burning sensation along the side of her hip told her she had been hit. She didn't take the time to analyse her wound, throwing the man into the closest foxhole before diving after him, though another shell from behind them caused her to tumble in after him as it threw her off her feet. She managed to catch herself before she completely crushed the man beneath her, her hands and knees hitting the ground either side of him, holding her above his body. As the blasts continued around them, she took no time to ponder the precarious position she had landed in, the warm heat of the man she had saved pressed against her torso as she sat straddled over his lying body. She felt his chin pressed against the top of her head as she curled tightly into him, her face hidden in the crook of his neck without thought.

As the shelling eased and the forest around them grew silent once more, Y/N raised her head towards the sky as to angle her ears in such a way to hear better, but the ringing that echoed from the remnants of the blast was like an alarm bell. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard Lipton's voice yell to stay down, and her stomach clenched in anticipation. She tilted her head back down towards the man as she felt him wriggle beneath her and a blush rose to her cheeks as she turned to apologise and move only to meet the dark eyes of Joe Toye. Her face hardened as she stared down at him, his eyes looking up to meet her gaze with surprise evident in his pupils. Y/N breathed harshly through her nose, pulling one leg over his body so she no longer perched in his lap before she tugged them to her chest, shuffling to the other side of the foxhole with a stiff expression. Joe said nothing but his eyes continued to watch her for a few more moments, his gaze causing the hairs on her arms to rise; or perhaps that was the chill the air held, she wasn't certain. Y/N ran her tongue over her top teeth as the silence enveloped them, but her irritation rose the longer it went on, her fingers gripping tighter at her rifle causing her knuckles to turn white.

"You're welcome, by the way." She spoke suddenly, her tone cold but the way she kept her eyes off of him expressed the idea that she didn't care; she certainly did care, and she expected grateful appreciation for saving his sorry ass. She turned her attention to what was going on above the foxhole they sat in as she pushed herself to a crouch to poke her head cautiously over the edge of the dugout, her eyes sweeping over the area as she analysed it carefully. Joe watched her in silence for another moment, his eyes trailing over the side of her face as she remained oblivious. He had previously noted that her face held a gentle beauty, but in this moment with messy hair peaking out from under her helmet, brows furrowed and her jaw visibly clenching, she held more of a wild divinity, like a budding rose that’s stem held many thorns. He drew in a breath as he forced himself to turn away as he thought to himself, A little too beautiful for someone who holds such an icy façade.

"Yeah. Thanks." Joe finally muttered shortly as he gazed down at his hands. Y/N didn't turn to look at him, but rolled her eyes at his stiff reply, not overly convinced he meant it. She opened her mouth to reply, swivelling on her toes to looked down at him only for the burning in her hip to arise again. The woman let out a strangled gasp, her hand immediately flying to the sliced flesh on her hip as the adrenaline running through her body began to dissipate. Joe's eyes widened, watching as she moved quickly to sit on her uninjured hip, all but collapsing beside him. "Shit Y/L/N. This just happen?" The sergeant called while moving closer to her, and if she wasn't focussed on her pain, Y/N would have seen fit to roll her eyes once more. She groaned, biting at the sensitive flesh of her lip as she pulled some of the torn fabric away from the wound, revealing the blood leaking from her body.

"Yeah. Next time remind me not to save your sorry ass." Y/N replied with as much of an taunting sneer as she could muster, completely disregarding their difference in rank as quite honestly in that moment she couldn't have cared less. Someone needed to dish it back to this man everyone once in a while to ensure his head didn't grow too large, and if that person had to be her, then she'd give it her best go. Even now as she squirmed uncomfortably at the burning gash on her hip, she was fully prepared to release the feminine rage that she had held caged in her chest for the last few months if she really had to.

Neither of them were given a moment to continue this exchange of simmering annoyance as a new bout of whistles filled the air causing Y/N to whine in distress, curling into herself to grasp at any comfort she could. She looked up from under her brows towards the sky as the first explosion went off, but immediately flinched in discomfort, turning her body away and pushing herself as close to the side of the foxhole as she could. When the not-so-solid soil wall seemed to wrap its arms around her tightly in a moment of shared unease, Y/N realised she had, in fact, unconsciously turned away from the wall of the foxhole, not towards it, and found herself pressed firmly against the warm body of Joseph Toye. The man's arms remained steadfast around her waist as the chaos outside the foxhole continued, his own fear slipping through with every 'bang' that was heard. The ground shook violently as a shell hit close by and Y/N let out a strangled scream of terror. Her hands unravelling from themselves to grasp at Joe's jacket, tugging herself closer to him while she tried her best to focus on the warmth that radiated from him, or the way his fingers could be felt rubbing back and forth over her spine. Even if he was a particularly cold man towards her, it had not been the first time she had used him as a distraction, though this was much more than just admiring him from afar. There was a certain intimacy in being held as if she was the only thing that could bring reassurance to the soldier beside her, a type of intimacy she had gladly welcomed at that moment as she too tightened her grip on his shirt, even going as far to hide her face in the fabric covering his shoulder.

A heavy silence hung over the air when the shelling stopped, the only noise being the creaking of nearby trees, half destroyed from the blasts and desperately clinging to hold their form. Y/N stayed leaning against Joe, his warmth offering comfort as her body grew tired as the adrenaline had leaked faster from her than it had the last time. Her wound began to burn hotter than last time, and a pained whine left her lips as she lifted her hand, pulling her face from the man's jacket to watch as crimson blood trickled down the palm it had begun to stain.

"Shit. MEDIC!" Joe screamed out as he glanced down at the woman as she lay groaning against his side, her hands coloured with scarlet liquid while her face was screwed up in a look of discomfort. "Uh, how many fingers am I holding up?" He asks, his voice a mixture of worry and uncertainty, his hand showing three fingers. Y/N seemed to pause her groaning for a moment, her head tilting up to look at him, her face showing disbelief at the words. Her gaze flickered between his face and his fingers, too confused to answer immediately as she took in the dead-serious look of concern on his features.

"I'm not dying you fucking moron. It's a shallow gash not a mortal wound." She replies with a quiet snort from her nose in amusement. Sure, the sliced flesh burned but it was certainly nothing to write home about, and she was more than prepared to never think about it again once she had been seen to by a medic. Until that point, she would ensure she'd made it clear to Joe that she deserved a little bit of appreciation for drawing blood for him, even if it was her own. The man rolled his eyes at her answer, pushing his fingers closer to her face while his brows tugged together in silent frustration.

"Just answer the fucking question Y/L/N." He said firmly. With a huff of irritation, Y/N gave her answer before using the hand that wasn't pressed tightly against the wound on her hip to flick his own hand away from her face.

"Thank the lord above they didn't make you a goddamn medic." She muttered under her breath quietly, though the roll of his eyes told her he had heard the words leave her mouth. The corners of her lips quip up in amusement but she pulled her eyes away from him as a heavy set of footfall could be heard coming towards them. Gene appeared beside her before she could blink, his presence causing her to jump in fright  "Jesus Gene, I just told Toye I wasn't dying. Don't you dare make me look a fool by giving me a heart attack." The woman mumbles lightly to the medic as he doesn't waste a second, pulling her hand from the wound and inspecting it closely.

"Sorry Y/L/N." Gene muttered gently, his eyes flickering up to hers for a moment in polite acknowledgement. He looked back down at the gash and noted several splinters still sticking out causing him to screw his face up in concentration, his eyes analysing the best way to get them out. He pulled his tweezers from his pouch and without warning, plucked the first splinter from her hip bringing about a cry made up of surprise and discomfort that rose loudly from her lips. Without thinking, her hand flew out to the side, landing on Joe's thigh, before squeezing tightly to sate her pain.

"AH, come on Gene, a little warning would be nice." She groaned, her fingers digging into the flesh of Joe's leg while she squirmed against his side as if trying to shuffle away from the medic and his tweezers. Joe let out a huff of bemusement as he glanced between her hand on him and her face, though he couldn't help the slight redness that dusted his cheeks.

"So would a homecooked Christmas dinner made by my ma, but we can't always get what we want, can we Y/N?" Joe said almost mockingly. The woman threw a warning glare over her shoulder in response to his words, not appreciative of his snark as she had a pair of tweezers shoved half an inch into a gash she took for him. Y/N watched as Gene finished pulling the splinters from her flesh, and wriggled uncomfortably as he stitched up the wound, yet the bleeding crimson that escaped from her had already painted the snow beneath her.

When the medic had finished up with dressing her wound as well as he could with his limited supplies, he had quickly disappeared off into the snowy terrain surrounding them. The woman kept her gaze on him as he ran off, a small smile of amusement painting her lips when she sees him scurry away so quickly. Movement against her hand reminded her that she was still gripping at Joe's thigh and without a single glance she retracted it as if she had been burnt, and it honestly looked as though she had been from the rose dusted blush on her cheeks. She didn't say a word to Joe, turning her head away from him so he could not see the embarrassment that so clearly showed on her face, yet the man used it to his advantage as he glanced out the corner of his eyes to look at her, his expression that of curiosity and intrigue. With a silent huff of amusement and a subtle shake of his head, Joe realised he had been wrong about Y/N, very wrong indeed.

▄︻デ----══━一

Joseph Toye had held a deep distain of the female replacement since the moment she showed up. Every part of her annoyed him; the way she seemingly refused to interact with most of the men as if she was above them, the way she watched them closely with narrowed eyes, the way she held herself like she was special because she was the only woman assigned to Easy company, the way she was so god damn distracting. He had decided quickly that she was not at all what a normal soldier was supposed to be, and let his thoughts and assumptions cloud his judgement. But after she had saved his ass from being blown sky high, he felt a strange feeling nag at his gut; guilt. His mind was a jumble of thoughts, mostly questions, of why she had taken the risk, why she would have bothered to put herself in the line of fire for anyone. He had a fair idea that she would not have known that it was him she was saving, the snowy haze that lingered in the air making it hard to see anything but silhouettes. Yet even then she had still gone out of her way, and gotten hurt in the process, just to ensure whatever random soldier that had failed to find cover was unharmed. She was braver than he gave her credit for.

His eyes followed her every move after Gene had left the foxhole they had fallen into, though in all honesty, they had been watching her for much longer than that. He remembered the way she interacted with Gene, and he wondered why she seemed to show a softer side for only a few of the men. Perhaps it was all backwards, and it was the other men who had given her a harsher side, one that had pushed her away. The guilt that ate at him came back as he realised his mistake, his mind flashing through the memories of what he had said to her, and how he had watched as others did the same and did nothing to stop them. That feeling didn't stop him from staying silent though, and if anything, it made him more reluctant to speak with her as he had come to know just how much he had screwed up. He felt like an idiot, so busy assuming the worst in her to see that he was a large part of the problem. She wasn't putting herself on a pedestal, she was protecting herself by being closed off to those around her who had taken one look at the woman and decided she wasn't worth their time.

They had lost Skip and Penkala the next day and following that, they had lost Buck, who seemed to feel the weight of the world collapse on him after he saw the explosion that took the two soldiers. Y/N could see where it had all gone wrong with the lieutenant, having watched as the light seemed to leave his eyes day by day until finally something gave way. She felt for him, but she could do nothing as she felt her own pressure on her shoulders, just as everyone else did, pushing her further into silence as she let her thoughts consume her more with every passing moment. The woman had sat quietly in the foxhole beside the ever present sergeant as Buck was led away by Lipton and Luz, tears leaking from his eyes and whimpers leaving his lips. Her mouth had grown dry, her heart clenching almost painfully at the sight of the broken man. Her eyes had meet Joe's for but a second as they shared a look that mirrored the other's, worry and unease swimming in their expression before she pulled her gaze from him, gulping down the feeling of disappointment.

The days following were much the same as each other, and though the two had spoken the odd word to one another when needed, they had generally kept to their own side of the foxhole. The only thing different was that of Y/N's lack of attention on Joe; her eyes no longer strayed to him and remained heavily on the line before them at all times aside from when she was sleeping. It seemed as though her lack of interest in him had increased his interest in her as if he had picked up the slack she had let loose. Her lip was chewed raw as every time she got the urge to look at him, she had countered it by tearing into her flesh with her teeth, like a punishment for having such ideas. The healing gash along her hip held a slight ache, yet it was the itch that drove her crazy, and she had already been growled at by Doc for ripping the scab open. It was the little things such as these that she used to distract herself from him; since she had saved him, he had changed from being the distraction to being distracting, and it sent her mind into a frenzy of thoughts.

It was early evening by the looks of the darkening sky when Joe had wandered off from their shared foxhole to grab some grub, his eyes finally moving from Y/N's form as she continued to watch the line from her spot. He wandered over to where several of the men had gathered to eat, and he made his way to Bill's side as soon as he spotted the man who grinned towards him. They chatted to themselves quietly while eating, mostly about Buck and his departure. Joe held his hands under his arms to warm up as the cold breeze pierced his coat, and his eyes were set on Bill as he spoke until something Cobb said had caught his attention. The sergeant had snapped his head towards the latter man when he mentioned something about Y/N, something lacking respect for the woman.

"Come off it will yah Cobb, she's just trying to do her job." Toye voice was firm as it cut through the air, his eyes holding a warning glare that only caused the smaller man to smirk as he turned to look at him.

"Oh? Tell me, has she been serving you as her sergeant well in that foxhole, hm?" Cobb snarked causing a couple of groans and noises of disappointment to sound from some of the men around them as the words left the man's mouth. They may not have all warmed up to the idea of a woman in the company, but she had not done anything to give room for such a derogatory accusation. Joe's hands clenched around his rifle as his jaw grew tense in anger, simmering in his blood while it began to boil. He didn't have time to question his own mind as it acted on autopilot, preparing to defend his foxhole partner's name against this soldier who loves to stir the pot a little too much for his liking.

"Show some god damn respect. She's done exactly what the rest of us have, her being a woman doesn't change that." He replied, his knuckles turning white, holding himself back from socking Cobb across the face.

"Except she hasn't. She's been here for what? A couple of months? Yet what good has she been?" Cobb said with a huff, his upper lip twitching in annoyance. Joe's mind flashed with memories of her body colliding with his to stop him from being blown to bits, and of the blood that leaked from her body as Gene patched her up. His jaw grew sharper, if it even could, the curve of it looking as if it had been cut from steel while the muscles connected to it rippled tightly under his skin.

"You seem to have gotten over this problem with the other replacements a while ago. Just say you're being a sexist prick and go Cobb." Joe said sternly, taking a step towards the shorter man with a dark look on his face. He held his head high as his gaze looked down his nose to assert a warning dominance over the other man, expressing the risk of opening his mouth to talk back once more with that action alone. Cobb seemed to gulp, his eyes trailing over Joe's imposing form as he realised his mistake. He said nothing as he stepped backwards, his feet taking him away from the dark haired man, only lowering his head in a show of capitulation before he scurried away. Joe followed him with his dark gaze until Luz placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling his attention away from Cobb in hopes that he would not run after him to smack him across the face. Lipton watched from not too far away, having heard what had gone one, but he did not proceed to move closer as he glanced over his shoulder to Y/N who stood hidden from the scene behind him. The way her eyes remained on her coffee, wide and vacant, he knew she had heard every word that had been shared between the men.

"Don't let it get to you Y/N." Lipton said quietly as he turned to face her causing her to look up at him. She nodded but didn't say anything. In all honesty, none of Cobb's words had bothered her as she was so used to having comments like that thrown around about her. What did confuse her was the way Toye defended her so firmly, unwavering and looking fully prepared to hit the other man for what he said. Her eyes lingered on said man over Lip's shoulder, taking the time she hadn't used in recent days to look at him, especially now as it seemed no one but the first sergeant before her were aware she was there. She took note of the fact that it took Luz several words to calm Joe down, and she wondered whether he had been defending her or if he had simply been defending himself against the accusation that the two of them had been less than professional in their foxhole. The woman pondered the thought all the way back to their foxhole, though she didn't let the thought consume her enough that she couldn't be vigilant about her surroundings, her gaze remaining on the line as she settled back into her position. It wasn't long before Joe returned, his face no longer holding a tense anger, yet his brows were still furrowed in what she could guess to be concentration. That sat in silence for several minutes, both sets of eyes carefully running over the snowy terrain in front of them until the man's voice cut through the quiet.

"I'm sorry." Joe's voice was like a knife cutting through the tension, though his tone held a genuine edge to it, one that made her whip her head towards him in shock.

"What?" Y/N exclaimed before she had a chance to stop herself, completely thrown off by his words. The man took a deep breath before finally turning to return her gaze, his eyes hold sincerity.

"I said I'm sorry." He repeated, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed his nervousness at the feeling of her eyes piercing into him. "I think…I think I assumed several things about you that have turned out to be very wrong, and I apologise."

"I-" She stuttered for a moment as she processed his words. Her mouth opened before shutting quickly, a motion she repeated multiple times, trying to select her next words but choking on them every time. Joe forced himself to hold back an amused smile at her flustered expression, knowing it was not the right time.

"And the things I said and the way I acted because I let my own assumptions cloud my judgement were uncalled for." He continued, his hands wringing around the barrel of his rifle as a means of comfort for the conversation was necessary but it did not stop his stomach from churning.

"You can say that again." She mumbled under her breath, but he heard her and let out a loud exhale from his nose.

"Look, I'm trying to apologise here, can you just give me a second?" The man groaned, feeling a nervous frustration as he wished to express his vulnerable thoughts without the snark she held in her tone. Y/N pursed her lips, her teeth nibbling at the inside of her mouth as she did. She nodded slowly, raising a hand to push a stray hair from her face before she opened her mouth.

"Right, yes. Continue." Her eyes ran over his face as she spoke, taking in every miniscule detail to memory unconsciously.

"Thank you." He said with a grateful nod, "As I was saying, I shouldn't have said what I did. You aren't some failed experiment, and you certainly aren't just a running target. Hell, you've shown more in the last few days than a lot of the men have the entire time they've been here." His cheeks held the slightest tinge of red as he spoke the words to her, his body tense as he waited for her reply.

"Well…thanks Sarg." She says slowly, her expression showing she didn't quite know how to take his apology as she had not at all been expecting it. Y/N's heart bet out of her chest as their eyes met again, his lips turning up into a small smile that she would never admit made her stomach clench in a strange mix of unease and attraction. She knew for the sake of herself, she had to take his apology with a grain of salt, ensuring that he showed he was sorry more than just expressing it in words with little meaning. Her mind flashed with a rerun of his angered face staring at Cobb with a menacing look she'd seen a few time from him.

"Just Joe is fine." Joe's voice broke through her thoughts once more, and it took her a moment to gather herself, realising what he meant after a few seconds. She blinked animatedly as she looked at him, taking in his expression, the small smile mixed with the genuine look in his eyes. The woman chewed the inside of her cheek once more before nodding.

"Alright, just Joe." Y/N replied with a hint of playful grin on her lips, and the man chuckles lightly at her jest. They shared a friendly smile, feeling a strange weight taken off their shoulders; Joe knowing he was able to show he was willing to find a way to redeem himself, while Y/N was simply happy to feel a sense of comradeship from someone she had to spend so much time with.

▄︻デ----══━一

The seat beneath Y/N jostled as the truck hit a stray pothole in the rustic road they drove down, moving towards the town of Haguenau. She felt a sense of warmth as she sat sandwiched between Joe and George, her head titled down with her lower face nestled into the scarf wrapped around her neck. Luz, who had been struggling to not talk her ear off with random gibberish, had finally closed his mouth as he let his tiredness set in, his eyes fluttering closed every now and then. Y/N held a small smile on her face while she watched him, shaking her head in amusement as she turned away from him. A sigh left her lips as she readjusted her sitting position, her tailbone numb from the hard wood of the seat below her while she wished for anything to be able to find a comfortable way to lean her head back to relieve the ache in her shoulders. She shifted her head from side to side, testing each placement of her head she could think of, only to groan quietly in frustration once more. Something soft pressed against the back of her head suddenly, and she fought against herself to not jump in fright, turning her eyes quickly towards Joe. She took note of the way he held his hands raised as he adjusted his own scarf behind her, obviously aware of her discomfort, yet he said nothing and only motioned with a nod of his head for her to lean back. She sent him a small smile, before snuggling her head back, sighing in content at the perfect positioning. Y/N closed her eyes, rolling her shoulders a few times as she settled down for a short nap, ready to shut out the world for as much time as she could. Joe observed her, nodding to himself in silent satisfaction knowing he had been the one to bring her comfort, and he turned away from her with a hint of a smile.

Y/N had woken with a jolt as they came to a halt, her eyes snapping open within a second, gaze already surveying the area around her to ensure she was safe. A gentle hand lay itself on her shoulder and she shifted to stare at Luz as he grinned at her, sending her into a sense of calm, her grip loosening on the rifle she had clutched at tightly. Her lips twitched into a grateful curve at the man, a small nod of her head acknowledging his action before she jumped down from the vehicle behind Joe, her boots hitting the ground with a crunch when she landed.

Y/N had wandered behind the other men, catching sight of Lipton as they made their way towards the houses causing her brows to pull down in concern at the sick man. She jogged quickly to the first sergeant's side, her hair that she had let down to relieve her aching scalp bouncing against her back with every step until she made it to him. Joe had glanced over his shoulder to ensure she was there, but as the spot she had once lingered in lacked her presence, he quickly whirled around to see her walking with Lipton in a different direction. The man groaned under his breath before changing the course of his pathway, manoeuvring through the crowd of men to follow behind her. His eyes scanned the environment around them, flickering to Y/N between completion of every sweep of his gaze.

The trucks had rattled so obnoxiously loud on their drive that Y/N's brain seemed to echo the sound even as she wandered around the house they were setting up as the company CP. The woman nodded her head with a smile as they made their way into what was left of the entertainment room, her expression directed towards Speirs who had acknowledged her greeting with his own tight lipped smile, though if one was to blink they would have missed it as he disappeared into a different room within an instant. She walked behind Lipton as she ushered him towards the couch in the middle of the room with a wave of her hand.

"Sit Lip, take your kit off and I'll make you a warm cup of joe." She said with a motherly smile pulled across her lips, warm and gentle. Lipton nodded with a grateful expression on his face, but it quickly morphed to discomfort as he pulled his webbing off, his muscles aching painfully with every movement. Joe entered not long after, taking his helmet from his head to run a hand through his hair, a sigh of content leaving his lips as he felt the absence of cold wind whipping against his skin. He peered around the place, regarding Y/N tinkering with a small cooker she had pulled from her pouches, a small noise of triumph coming from her lips as it burst to life with a kick start from her lighter. Joe bit the inside of his cheek to stop the smile from tugging at his lips, his eyes lingering on her for a moment before turning to Lipton.

"Nice place you got here Lip." He muttered with a raised brow. Lipton let out the slightest snort of amusement at the man's words, but his lack of energy led him to do nothing more. Lipton lowered himself slowly to the couch with a groan that made her move quickly to him, a blanket she had found in the other room in her hands. Joe had watched her with a small grin as she tended to their first sergeant, a comforting expression evident on her face.

"Managed to snag this for you. Hopefully it'll teach the lad who was using it previously to take more vigilance while napping." Y/N joked as she tucked it over Lip's body while he coughed uncomfortably. She leaned over him, pressing a hand to his head to check his temperature, sending him a reassuring smile. "Joe can you grab that paperwork over by the table please?" She muttered to him, her hand reaching towards it with a point of her finger as she wandered back over to the water she'd left to boil for Lip's coffee. One of her hands rose to pull her helmet from her head, placing it down on the piano beside her before she shook her hair out to let her scalp breath, having been stuffed painfully tight into braids under that metal for too long.

Several minutes later, the woman held the freshly made coffee in her hands, making her way back towards Lip and Joe as they conversed over the paperwork she had previously talked about. Footsteps made Joe shift his gaze to the door, eyes landing on Webster with an unimpressed look as he emerged into the room with a fresh face and lively expression.

"Sergeant Toye. Long time no see." Webster said as his sweep of the room led his eyes to Joe. The latter man snorted, rolling his eyes in bemusement at the newcomer who Y/N did not recognise.

"Long time, huh, you can say that again." Joe all but sneered at him, causing him to almost flinch at the harsh action. Y/N laid a hand on Joe's shoulder as she approached, leaning behind him and Lipton on the couch, as if she was silently telling him to settle down. She handed Lip his coffee, receiving a quiet 'thank you' in reply.

"Sergeant Lipton, feeling alright?" The new man said, eyes flickering between the first sergeant and Y/N, something Joe was more than aware of.

"He's got pneumonia." The woman expressed, while tucking the blanket she had placed on Lipton tighter around his body with her free hand.

"I didn't know we had field nurses this close to the front." The newcomer said in confusion, his words causing Joe to bristle under Y/N's hand. The woman felt her own annoyance flare up, not because she was assumed to be a nurse as she had no issue with that at all for the nurses were admirable women, but because this man had not stopped talking since he'd arrived, and yet they were still no closer to knowing why he was even here.

"Does she look like a fucking nurse to you Webster?" Joe exclaimed grumpily, his hand motioning to her combat uniform, her newly sown chevrons on display along her sleeve, and rifle that still stayed slung over her shoulder protectively. She squeezed her hand once more over his shoulder before letting go and standing, crossing her arms over her chest as Webster stared at her in disbelief.

"My apologies Corporal…" He replied, leaning forward ever so slightly as he waited for her to finish his sentence. She wanted to be sympathetic, but she was very quickly coming to realise how it was to welcome replacements like she had once been, the frustration and envy she felt from his appearance being so clean alone was enough to cause her to lose her sympathy as she became increasingly aware of the grime that marred her skin.

"Y/L/N." The woman concluded, her eyes not leaving Lipton as she moved to whisper to him, asking if he would be okay without her. With a nod of confirmation, Y/N prepared herself to leave the room, and as he realised this, Joe stood, putting his helmet back on and readjusting his rifle sling.

"Corporal Y/L/N. I'm Webster, Private Webster."

"Yeah, I gathered that." She replied dismissively as she grabbed her things, placing her helmet on her head before walking from the room without another word. Joe smirked at her words, a weird sense of pride swelling in his chest. The man sauntered after her, his eyes staying on Webster as he passed him, dark and menacing when he noted the rifleman peering at her back curiously. His shoulder bumped the Harvard man's when he passed, a silent warning to watch himself around Y/N, before he too disappeared out the door. Joe found Y/N not far from the front door of the building, conversing with Luz as she seemingly waited for him to join her on her walk back to first platoon.

"That was a good one Y/N." Joe said as he approached the two, both of whom turned to look at him wandered over. The woman blinked at him several time without a words before she reached forward in a sudden surge of movement, a look of faux concern covering her face as she raised her hand to Joe's forehead. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his eyes flickering between her and Luz who held the same look of confusion as he did.

"What are you doing?" Joe asked while the back of her hand was pressed gently against his head.

"You feeling okay Joe? You just complimented me." She said, a mocking wide eyed look on her face as she played her role of the worried soldier.

"Ha ha. Very funny doll." The man muttered with a roll of his eyes, while Luz chuckled under his breath behind the two, the amusement clear in his gaze that moved between them. The radioman's stare shifted to Malarkey who had wandered up beside him, watching the two with a similar expression as his.

"My goodness, we should get Gene over here, you just gave me a pet name. It's looking bad Joe, I think you may be worse off than Lip." Y/N continued with a gasp, but a small smirk pulled to her lips when Joe gave her shoulder a playful shove. "So easy to rile up, aye tough guy." She mumbled with a grin as she looked at him one last time before turning and walking off towards their platoon housing. Luz turned his gaze upon Joe when she disappeared, watching as the latter man followed her every step with his eyes. Feeling George's own eyes on him, he shifted around to look at him, taking note of the smirk pulled across his lips as he stared at him with raised brows.

"What?" Joe asked in confusion but his brain slowly connected the dots, Luz speaking clearly of the suggestion he was putting forward with his expression alone. "Don't look at me like that." He continued as the shorter man stayed silent. Luz raised his hands in mock surrender after he slung his rifle over his shoulder, but the smirk never left his lips.

"I wouldn't fault you if you did. She's one hell of a dame." The man said before following Y/N down the street, leaving Joe behind for a moment as said man lost himself in his thoughts.

"He's right you know." Malarkey choked out, and though his face held a dull vacancy, he still managed to send Joe an encouraging smile that quipped at the edges of his lips. Joe looked at the other sergeant for a moment, thinking over the two men's words before he huffed a noise of amusement from his nose, but he covered it with a faux frustrated groan before walking off without another word to follow her towards their platoon.

▄︻デ----══━一

It had become increasingly aware to the men in Easy company that Joe seemed to follow Y/N like a shadow, and with the woman's promotion to corporal for the same platoon Joe was the sergeant for, it was even easier to go about this. The female paratrooper was more than aware of how he lingered constantly at her side, and she relished in the feeling of knowing someone always had her six, especially someone such as the slightly intense man known as Joseph Toye.  They moved like magnets; where Y/N went, Joe wasn’t far behind. The two made a good command team, leveling the scale with a contrast in strengths and weaknesses as Y/N made up for Joe's lacking people skills, while the man gave more of a harsh authority where she held a motherly presence. They held an even stronger sense of comradery, having come so far from their icy ways in Bastogne, literally and figuratively.

It seemed everyone held an awareness for this dynamic between the two. Well, everyone but David Webster, even after he had received his first warning the day he returned. It was a funny thought, the man being such a poetic and literary man, and yet he couldn't read into the protective affinity Joe held for the female paratrooper. It was a common theme for the Harvard man to watch Y/N with a look of intrigue since the moment he wandered back into company after his extended stay in that English hospital. Webster was in luck, having gotten away with it for several weeks now, as Joe's attention was kept elsewhere with more important things to protect the woman from. It wasn't until they reached the Eagle's Nest that things changed, and quickly at that; Webster's luck had run dry.

They had found themselves in an interesting juxtaposition, as the further into Germany they went, the further away from harm they seemed to be, with the surrender of a massive number of German troops. It came with the news of victory in Europe that the men had taken the time to revel, indulging themselves in the liquor that flowed plentifully, a gift from Hitler himself as they rounded up bottle after bottle from the dead man's cellar. Y/N sat happily beside Bill and Joe, laughing at a tipsy remark that Luz had made while sipping straight from a bottle of expensive champagne. Her face screwed up at the taste, not particularly fond of champagne but continuing to like the buzz it gave her.

Webster's eyes had strayed to her as they usually did, an action that Liebgott picked up on. A smirk rose to the cab driver's lips, shaking his head at his friend while taking a sip of Cognac from his glass. The Harvard man shifted his gaze when he felt Lieb looking at him, his eyebrows furrowed while glancing between said man and Skinny who sat beside him.

"Can I help you with something Joe?" David asked with a brazen tone. Liebgott's grin grew wider, a cheeky glint in his eye the longer he stared at Webster.

"No, no. Please, continue your shameless staring." The man countered teasingly, his mischievous nature getting the better of him as he felt the desire to let things unfold without his interruption. Webster's face screwed up as an unease settled over him, knowing that nothing good ever came from Lieb's mischief. He rolled his eyes and turned away, shaking the feeling off and setting his sights back on the woman who he had become quite taken with.

Y/N had felt eyes on her for a while now, but she didn't feel the need to seek out who it was, not caring much as she sat leaning her body just the slightest amount towards Toye's side. She glanced out of the corner of her eye, taking note of the precarious position his arm was in, slung over the back of her seat but not close enough to touch her. She sucked her teeth to conceal her smile, but was caught by Bill who held his own teasing smile, his eyes flickering between Joe's hand and her face. The woman squinted her eyes at him playfully before taking another swig of champagne, downing the rest as the men began to cheer for her. She threw her hands up victorious, the empty bottle displayed for them to see. Joe chuckled beside her, looking over the side of her face, admiring her gleaming smile and the way she had her hair down for once. In a moment of coincidence, his eyes flickered passed her and landed on the man sitting at a distance, staring directly at Y/N. Joe took in the way Webster seemed to hold a starry eyed, school boy expression on his face, causing him to narrow his darkening eyes. His lip twitched unconsciously, his arm drawing closer to the woman without her noticing. Joe's gaze moved towards Y/N when she stood suddenly, on a mission to find another bottle of foul tasting but expensive wine. His eyes followed her figure, and he wasn't the only one as his gaze flickered to Webster once again.

Webster took a deep breath as he watched the woman wander across the room to a table in the corner that held multiple bottles of liquor, a bright smile on her face as she glanced over her shoulder to acknowledge a joke that Luz had thrown to her when she passed him. His hand clenched around his glass before he patted his leg as he stood, causing Liebgott and Skinny to look at him.

"I'm gonna do it." Webster proclaimed proudly, squaring his shoulders before heading over to her. Skinny leaned forward quickly to protest against it, his face showing concern.

"No, Web, I don't think that's a good ide-" The man stopped, turning his head towards Liebgott as he laid a hand on his chest, pushing him back to his seat.

"Shut up, I want to enjoy this." He said with a grin, his eyes trained on Joe Toye as he waited for the man to strike.

Y/N stood at the table, moving aside several bottles as she read over each label to decide what she would drink next. She was oblivious to the man that closed in on her position, his mind running with things he would say as he mumbled to himself different greetings. The woman had shifted in her spot, a new bottle pulled to her chest when she twisted around to walk back to her friends. He chose his words before he opened his mouth to say them as he walked up behind her, only several metres between them. Her gaze moved to him just as he went to take one last step closer only for a larger body to step between them and Webster stumbled as to not walk directly into the brick wall that was Joseph Toye. The taller man glowered down at the Harvard man, eyes dark as he squinted them.

"Where you off to in such a rush Webster?" Joe said firmly, his arms crossing over his chest as a small sneering smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Y/N had stopped walking back to their seats, opting to step up behind Joe, just enough so she could see what was unfolding. Webster's eyes glanced towards her form as she came back into view, and he rolled his shoulders to make himself seem bigger as he looked back to Joe.

"I just…wanted to talk to Y/N." He said, tilting his head up to seem confident in his words even though he was holding back a squirm from how dark Joe's gaze was. The man in question raised his brows, glancing over his shoulder to look at the woman, his grin widening as he saw how she stood closely behind him.

"Bold of you to assume she wants to talk to you." Joe retorted, shifting his eyes back to Webster. The latter man clenched his jaw in annoyance at the interference between him and Y/N.

"And you speak for her why?" Webster shot back, his own arms crossing over his chest. Y/N all but rolled her eyes at the interaction, but let it continue as her curiosity got the better of her, though she was ready to jump in if she must.

"I don't, I just know what she likes, and what she doesn't." Joe said with his smirk reaching ear to ear, his head tilting mockingly as if his words suggested more than what the conversation involved. Webster looked taken aback at the man's words, gaze flickering between the two before him, noting the way Joe had shuffled closer to her, and how she leaned towards him ever so slightly.

"Oh. Oh." Webster raised his eyebrows as if piecing a puzzle together, but at the realisation, his shoulders slumped slightly, and his gaze moved to the floor for a moment. "I..um..I'm just going to…" The man stuttered, his cheeks going red as he realised his mistake, reaching towards the table to swipe the first bottle he could reach before turning around and scampering off with his tail between his legs. As Webster sat back down, head lowered in shame and disappointment, he was aware of the amused giggle that left Liebgott's mouth, greatly entertained by the scene he had watched intently. He only laughed harder when Webster leaned over to smack him across the head in retaliation, dodging the hand before throwing his own back, all while giggling profoundly.

Joe watched Webster go, the smirk never leaving his smirk until he felt a hand grab at his bicep and tugging him towards their friends.

"Come on tough guy." Y/N said, her eyes rolling once more. He couldn't see her face as she had turned away from him, walking in front of him without taking her hand off his arm. He allowed himself to be dragged back to the table and sat back down beside the woman as she too took her seat. All of the men around them held looks of amusement as they looked at the two, before going back to their conversation and drinks when the pair said nothing.

"You're such a pain in the ass." The woman muttered to him beside her, her eyes not looking away from the men in front of her to gaze at him.

"You love it though." He whispered back while leaning closer to her ear, and he watched as the corners of her lips twitched upwards, her eyes glancing at him for a moment before she gave him a gentle shove to the chest.

"Shut up." She threw towards him dismissively causing him to laugh quietly, Meanwhile, her hands fiddled to open the bottle but she failed miserably, letting out a low huff of frustration. He took it from her suddenly, using his hand behind her to hold it and his other to pop the cork before handing it back to her. She muttered a quiet 'thank you', taking a sip of it while throwing her head back. Joe looked at her with a small grin, lowering his hand from where it had previously hovered to open her bottle, letting it lay over her shoulder, his hand hanging over her collarbone. Y/N inhaled quickly, almost choking on her drink while glancing out of the corner of her eyes at him again only for him to look away, gazing up at the ceiling as if pretending he didn’t do anything. She let out an amused huff from her nose before she allowed herself to settle against him, shuffling discreetly closer to him, her shoulder pressed carefully against his side. His smile grew, noting that she did not reject his advance, and he grew more bold as he tugged her closer so her neck rested against the inside of his elbow. Another breath left her nose, almost a sigh of content as she soaked in the feeling, the atmosphere of the room mixed with the man beside her setting her at ease.

Some of the men left early that night, deciding they would take the extra time they had to sleep, while other continued to party late into the night. Y/N felt herself growing more tired by the minute as she snuggled unconsciously into Joe's side. Her eyes seemed to flutter closed every now and then, before one of the men's loud laughs or boisterous words would make her open them once more. She yawned, using her hand to cover her mouth before she turned her face to hide in the collar of Joe's shirt, letting herself slip into a comfortable sleep. She didn't know how long she had been asleep when she felt Joe move underneath her, and she went to groan in annoyance until she felt an arm slip under her knees with another across the back of her shoulders, cradling her to a chest that smelt all too familiar.

"I've got her. I'll see you boys tomorrow." Joe said with a smile as he held the woman close to him, carrying her off towards the room she was staying in.

The man settled her down gently on the bed before tugging her boots off, and throwing the covers over her carefully. He took a moment to admire how peacefully she looked as her hair splayed out behind her on the pillow, low breaths leaving her lips. He smiled once before turning on his feet and making his way to the door, but he paused when he heard her voice call out to him.

"Where are you going?" She mumbled sleepily, one of her eyes squinting open as she looked at him standing a few metres away by the door.

"To bed, baby doll." He replied, his hand resting on the door handle.

"Then get in." Her hand reached towards the edge of the blanket as she held it up for him. His brows shot up and he froze for a moment but quickly made his way over, hopping as he tugged his boots off hastily. He lowered himself onto the bed beside her and he didn't waste any time before tugging her towards him, allowing her to snuggle up against him. She let out a sigh of content as she found her place under his arm, her cheek resting on his chest. She felt a calm feeling rush over her, the tranquillity and warmth he brought her could be compared to nothing she'd ever felt before; all she knew was that with him around, she could never imagine feeling more safe.

"Goodnight Y/N." He whispered into her hair as he planted an affectionate kiss to her head. She let out a hum before turning to look up at him, her gaze staying on him unmoving for a moment. He returned her stare, both of their eyes holding the same look of endearment as the other. Y/N seemed like she wanted to say something as her lips parted but no words left her as she became distracted by him, something she had been many times before. He leaned forward slowly, and she knew in a second what was happening as she met him in the middle, their lips meeting softly. Y/N had moved to lean closer to him, propped up on her elbow as she shifted onto her side, her hand resting on his chest. Joe's hand moved to cup her jaw as their lips moved slowly, tentatively, even though the both of them knew full well that this would happen eventually and neither were shy to think it. Y/N was the first to pull away, keeping her face close to his as she let her eyes trail over his face once more, a fond smile tugging to her lips.

"Goodnight Joe." She muttered back quietly, before pecking him one last time on the lips and then lowering herself back down, her face tucked into his neck. He could feel her smile against his skin, one that mirrored his as he stared into the darkness of the room at the ceiling. Her heart raced in her chest, much like his, and she couldn’t stop grinning until sleep took her and she fell asleep in the arms of her tough guy.

Taglist: @peggyvan (if you want to be added to the taglist for all my fics then flick me a message x)

[formereldestdaughter]

ok wait i need to hear more of your thoughts on peeta owning a bakery....

This is one of those rare times where I’m pretty sure this anon isn’t someone I know personally bc I’ve subjected anyone who will listen to my rant about the Peeta Bakery Headcanon. Anyway, you’re gonna regret asking this anon bc there are fucking Layers here.

I know this is probably a controversial take based on the number of fics where I’ve seen it, but I simply do not think that Peeta would open a commercial bakery after Mockingjay!! Like on a metatextual level, I don’t think it really fits with the point of the ending of the series. It actually sort of fascinates me that it’s just such a common headcanon because the ending of Mockingjay is exceedingly vague. I think that vagueness invites us, as readers, to imagine a better world post-revolution. A world where Katniss would feel confident that her children would be safe from injustice, where she’d feel confident that her children would never know want the way she did as a child. A just world. A kinder world. Can a capitalist society ever be just? Is a capitalist society where a disabled teenager has no other means to subsist himself (or feels like there’s no other way he can be a contributing member of his community) really the post-revolution world we dream of? Is that really the best we can imagine?

(This got so insanely long I’m adding a read more lmao)

I get that showing a better world is not always the point of post-mockingjay headcanons/fics. Like there are plenty of really great post-mockingjay fics I’ve seen where, yeah, part of the fic is that society like ISN’T all that different or all that much better. I’ve seen that really well done! Hell, I’ve written them myself! It’s easy to imagine how a lot of aspects of society would not get an overhaul, a lot of the same structural inequalities would continue to exist. One headcanon that really stuck with me (I can’t remember which fic it was from) was that Peeta sells basically mail order baked goods to people on the Capitol, sending them iced cakes and pastries by train, because there are still people who were “fans” of theirs during the Games. And idk this doesn’t actually have much to do with my point lol but I liked it because it’s kind of fucked up and like! Yeah! It makes sense! If he needed money that would be a good way to make it! War often makes people rich, often for horrible reasons, and often it’s people who already have capital in the first place.

Anyway, more about the hypothetical bakery because alright. I bring up the fact that “yeah society not being all that different post-revolution and still being an unjust capitalist hellscape” could be a reason why Peeta re-opens a bakery because that’s actually never the types of fics where I see the bakery headcanon. Fics where Peeta opens a bakery are usually trying to make the exact opposite point. Like. Things are getting better, now he can open a bakery! Look at how much better the world is now, plus he’s got a bakery! Peeta is healing, that’s why he can open a bakery now! And I am so, so sorry to inform everyone who’s never had the grave misfortune of owning a family business, but there is truly nothing further from the truth lmao. Like just putting aside the immense amount of emotional baggage that Peeta has about his family, running a small business is an insane amount of work in any context and being a baker especially is physically grueling and involves early hours (and long hours) that aren’t really the best fit with the multiple ways that Peeta is disabled now. (I could go into this more because I have a lot of thoughts. But I will spare you.). I also think it’s seen throughout the books that Peeta is someone who needs time to pursue creative outlets to process his feelings and someone who values leisure and values quality time with his loved ones. And having grown up in his family’s bakery, I think he’d understand the reality that running a bakery wouldn’t leave much space of those pursuits and wouldn’t leave much space for him to have the things that keep him healthy and stable. I think he’d know that the way he is now— after two Games and the war and unspeakable torture at the hands of a dictator—isn’t compatible with the lifestyle necessary for running a commercial bakery.

And tbh with that in mind, I don’t think he’d push himself to re-open a business (one that would be a constant reminder of his dead family and his complicated relationships with them that got no closure) that would require him to sacrifice his physical and emotional well-being. Like I think he might look into the possibility, I think he might even start trying to open a bakery out of a sense of obligation/duty, maybe harboring some idea that this is who he was supposed to be, who he would've been without the Games, or that it’s this last piece of his family that can live on, or that it’s this last connection to his family so he can’t let it die too. But ultimately, I think any attempt to open a bakery wouldn’t get very far. Maybe he'd start wading into the logistical nightmare that is small business ownership and realize it's not for him (because it's probably also true that as much as him and his brothers were involved in the business, there's almost certainly parts they weren't involved with and didn't see, i.e., filing taxes). Or maybe looking into opening a bakery— how triggering it is, the stress of it— causes a downward spiral. Maybe he hates how much he's worrying everyone by unraveling. Maybe having a breakdown from the stress of just trying to open a bakery makes him realize, yeah, maybe in another life he would have ran his family’s bakery but the way he is now just doesn’t work with running a bakery, not without great sacrifices he's not willing to make. I just can’t see a bakery coming to fruition.

I know a lot of fics include Peeta deciding to reopen a bakery as a big step in his healing or include him rebuilding a bakery as part of his healing process but honestly, I think the opposite would be more true: I think Peeta either trying/failing to open a bakery or ultimately deciding not to open a bakery would be hugely healing for him. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way he is now as a person, his new limitations but also his strengths. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way his life his now and accepting that he likes his life the way it is, that he’s satisfied with his life without needing to own a bakery. I think it would be an important part of him coming to terms with the loss of his family. I think he knows he can never have things back as they were and I don’t think he would try to recreate them, especially because his family’s legacy isn’t a business. I think he’s emotionally intelligent enough and self reflective enough to realize that what mattered to him about the bakery— taking care of others by feeding them, being integrated into his community and being actively involved in it, brightening people’s days with delightful things whether that’s beautiful cakes or hearty food or delicious treats— and the things he learned from his family through the bakery, are things that he can carry on in other meaningful ways.

(Do you regret sending this ask yet, anon? Because if not, you will soon. I’m not done yet. There’s more.)

I wasn’t really sure where to put this next part in what is rapidly becoming an essay because it sort of combines the points about like “what do we imagine a post-mockingjay society to look like” with the practical difficulties of starting this bakery but here’s another thing: do people really think that the Mellarks owned the land the bakery was on?? Like, sure, the merchants are the petit bourgeois of Twelve but I still don’t imagine they really own anything. In a society where houses are assigned to people upon marriage, where property ownership and capital are so closely interconnected with citizenship (as shown by the Plinths who, by having immense capital, are able to leave their District and become citizens of the Capitol) do people really think the Mellarks would be allowed to own the land their bakery is on?? I always imagined it sort of like a tenant farming situation: the Capitol gives them the raw materials for the bakery and in return the bakery give them some absurdly high portion of their profits, or the Capitol sells them a year’s supply of raw materials at a premium on credit and at the end of the year the Mellarks have to use the money they made with those materials to pay it back, except it’s never enough to turn a profit so they always have to buy next year’s materials on credit and the cycle continues.

We (understandably) get a really skewed view of the merchant class through Katniss’s perspective so I can see why people come to the conclusion that his family owned the property and, as the last surviving member, he would’ve inherited it. I’ve seen the inheritance thing in fics a lot or a hand wavey “well Twelve was decimated to no one owns anything anymore so it can be his” or even like an almost sort of reparations type situation where he’s entitled to the land as a surviving refugee of Twelve. But I don’t know. I guess I don’t think it fits with everything else we know about Panem that the Mellarks would’ve owned that land and I think the question of whether the government would’ve let him take ownership of the land post-revolution brings up a lot of issues about the structure of society post-Mockingjay that I find more interesting to explore in other ways, especially when, from an emotional perspective, 1) I find the idea of Peeta not opening a bakery more compelling and 2) I don’t think it really fits his character arc by the end of Mockingjay to reopen a bakery, as I went on about at length above lol.

On the flip side: literally who cares!! Do whatever you want!! Headcanon whatever you want!! I get why people go for the bakery!! It’s fun, it’s wholesome, it’s a built in bakery AU that isn’t even an AU. It doesn’t matter if it’s practical or realistic!! It doesn’t need to be practical or realistic!! It’s fanfic of a dystopian YA series!! My unfortunate affliction is that I grew up in a family that owned a restaurant and that I have multiple degrees in the social sciences so I can’t see the bakery without being like “What about the overheard? What about the start up costs? Who’s spending long nights balancing the books? Is Peeta covering shifts when an employee calls in sick? Is Peeta the sole person working there until the bakery is open long enough (often a year or more) to start turning a profit? How does that sleep schedule work with his nightmares? How does that work with Katniss’s nightmares? What happens when he has an episode and suddenly needs to take the day off before he has any employees? Does the bakery just remain closed for the day? Can the profit margins withstand regular unexpected closures? Can the supplies withstand regular unexpected closures?” And if the answer is “Elliott none of those things matter he’s not doing the bakery because he needs the money but because he wants to”, then my question is why does he want to? Does he not get the same sort of satisfaction out of feeding his loved ones? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would rather give away baked goods than sell them?? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would prefer to make cakes for people’s special occasions upon and then when they insist on paying him for it, he only lets them “pay for the ingredients” which actually cost significantly more than he says they did??

So yeah my point is that it’s a matter of personal taste! It doesn’t fit the way I see the series but that doesn’t mean it’s like wrong, I’m not an authority on Peeta lmao.

It’s also a matter of personal taste in the sense that I find the themes that most resonate with me at the end of Mockingjay (and the end of Peeta’s arc specifically) more interesting to explore in other ways. Grief, living with loss, relearning yourself, finding hope, figuring out your place in a dramatically different world when you don’t even know who you are anymore, healing, building a new life after such complete and total destruction of your old life— those are all things I find compelling about the end of Mockingjay but for me the bakery isn’t the most compelling way to explore them.

Not to say I find the concept of the bakery totally uninteresting. I have this fic about Johanna that I’ll probably never finish where the point sort of is that, yeah, her life really isn’t all that much better after the war. It’s been years at this point and she’s still miserable and she doesn’t know how to be a person but by the end she’s trying to figure it out. And towards the end, Peeta tells her that he’s spent years sort of passively, half-heartedly trying to figure out how to inherit the land his family’s bakery was on, only to find out it was never theirs in the first place. They’d been renting it the whole time and he’d never even known as a kid. So he sort of passively, half-heartedly went on another wild goose chase to find the owner and now, finally, after years of writing to various government agencies and being sent in circles and things being barely functional, he’s managed to track down the owner. Now it’s owned by the daughter of the man who owned it when he was a kid because the original owner (who was likely up to some sketchy war crime shit) died during the war and she inherited it (the irony…). He got in contact with her and asked how much it would take for her to sell it and she told him she’s not interested in selling but in light of the situation, in light of the fact that he’d have to build a new building in order to operate a bakery, that she’d cut him a deal— she’d only require 50% of the bakery’s profits as rent instead of the 80% his family used to pay. And of course Johanna is outraged, that’s not right, the owner shouldn’t be allowed to do that, they should do something about it, they should fight back. And Peeta is like. Not interested. He was actually sort of relieved that opening wasn’t very feasible. Getting the answer was a lightbulb moment where he saw that over the years of trying to look into this, he’s built a life that he likes— one where he’s stable, where his loved ones are stable, where he’s cared for and can care for others— and he doesn’t really want to change it drastically by opening a bakery anyway. He just needed an answer, one way or another, before he could get some closure and move on. (And the point of the conversation is Johanna is having her own lightbulb moment that it’s okay to move on, it’s okay to change, it’s not a betrayal of the people and things she’s lost but that’s not my point here!!).

But anyway. That’s obviously not about running the bakery— it’s about the choice to not run one.

Anyway!! Anyway… are you satisfied anon? Is this what you wanted?

Lastly, here is my most important qualm with the bakery headcanon: must Peeta be gainfully employed? Is it not enough for him to be Katniss’s boytoy? Can’t he just paint and garden and bake and hang out with his girlfriend all day? Is that really too much to ask?

[magicalrocketships]

☔

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

Oh, I'm sure I've talked about this before but L U C K I L Y I retain zero information, particularly when I'm tired, so this means I get to explain it again.

SO, the plot which I won't ever write because it gets pretty dark and it also requires me to make up an injury (I got the idea from the first series of Chicago Fire, where the dude whose name I've forgotten (no, really, I retain no information anymore) has a life-changing made-up ?neck? injury where he requires surgery and it will take one year+ to recover from the surgery so he self-medicates and then it's miraculously fixed by a dazzling new surgery in one episode after making it an entire plot for an entire season):

Canon divergence somewhere along the way, maybe the pandemic doesn't happen, maybe he never really got as publicly involved in streaming, whatever, but what's key is that Max doesn't have anything really going on outside of racing and it's this year

So Daniel's left RB/Mcl, and Max is focused focused focused on racing and maybe he gets his first world championship a year earlier but whatever happens, he doesn't build that strong sense of home outside of racing (no cats, no partner, no online streaming, just what's becoming an unhealthy focus on racing and winning at all costs)

Then there's an accident. It happens off-track, so it's not a racing incident, and it's not Max's fault. His car gets hit. And Max is injured. He breaks something in his neck (I am assured this injury does not exist in the manner employed by Chicago Fire. For the purpose of this imaginary not-to-be-written fic, it 100% exists).

Max is told he can't race, maybe forever, but likely for at least a year post surgery

(and at this point I'm just going to c&p from the chat fic doc I saved months and months ago, and it's going under a cut with a content warning here for suicidal thoughts, some mention of disordered eating and childhood abuse, look after yourself, pals)

surviving to drive: the max verstappen recovery story (~3k)

Anyway max realises that he has exactly one (1) thing in his life, racing, and it's just come crashing down and he's v emotionally unhealthy as we know and has nothing else going on so when he loses racing he believes there is literally no other reason to keep going plus he's in hospital

anyway daniel ignores all of max's emotionally unhealthy bans on hospital visitors and sneaks in to see him and he's like... "something is very wrong here"

he leaves and max thinks he's chased him away but then daniel comes back later that day and he's like, "you don't have to have the surgery in this hospital, you can have it done in any of these places *presents a list* so pick a place and we'll go there instead"

so yeah they just go somewhere else and daniel rents them a house and just hangs out with a secretly suicidal max who sees precisely no reason to wake up every morning if he's not racing

and daniel has precisely zero idea that max is still here/alive/whatever just because daniel is there every night and every morning and max doesn't want daniel to have to see him like that

ANYWAY max is very clearly not in a good place and his dad sends him messages telling him how he can improve his recovery and get better faster

it becomes more difficult for max to hide the fact that he's alive mostly by virtue of not being dead right now

and he's had the surgery or whatever and he's looking at a 12 month recovery so he's definitely out for the whole of the next season so daniel's like, "It doesn't matter how long recovery takes, take your time" which of course he has precisely zero idea of how to deal with since he's been racing so long and has nothing else in his life

Something happens idk he breaks a glass and Daniel finds him with cut hands and a piece of glass idk and Daniel's like, "a new crisis! I can help with that! this is clearly not something that max has been dealing with daily for weeks now, it's a new thing!"

so he's like, IT'S THERAPY TIME BABY, no more clutching a handful of broken glass and bleeding everywhere, superdaniel is here to help

yada yada finds max a therapist and max HATES IT, HAAAAATES IT, he's uncomfortable and the therapist makes him feel worse and he still wants to like... not be here if he can't race today, he can't wait a whole year

and daniel asks him how it's going and Max lies because why wouldn't he and he's been doing miserable things his entire life that he didn't want to do so what's another thing on top of everything else

meanwhile Daniel's like... hmmmm this is scary Max looks worse

and he sits in on a therapy session and half way through he's like, "nope, we're ending this, sorry, bye, you can have the money for the whole hour but we're never speaking to you again"

points out to Max that that therapist was awful and why didn't Max just tell him how awful it was and how it made him feel

Max, who's never had a choice over anything in his entire life: "..."

anyway he gets max to try another couple of therapists and in the end there's one who is NOT monstrously awful and does not make Max feel like he wants to scratch his own skin off

so Max gets THERAPY and it becomes clear that max's childhood was weaponised beyond belief and he doesn't even know what foods he likes and doesn't like

because he never got a choice and he was always on some kind of food plan that his dad could withhold or not according to how max was doing in every other area of his life

well of course, he gets a whole year of therapy and it turns out his dad was an abusive asshole and he is BLOCKED from Max's phone

and Max has to do things like "make sure his life has more than just racing in it"

so he reads a book

the first one he's ever read

he tries food and tries to figure out if he likes it or if it's just a source of energy he has to eat anyway

he gets a PLANT

it DIES

anyway whatever he gets therapy and he lives in a house with daniel and is allowed to feel some things because he never really felt anything before

and daniel goes off and does some promo stuff idk and films some shit from the house and max is maybe in the background or something and no one's heard from him in ages and in fandom it's all like MAX IS IN DANIEL'S HOUSE etc

and the drive to survive people get in touch and are like, can we interview you for the series even if you're not on the grid, do some stuff about your recovery etc etc

and max is like... i guess

he's not, like, actively suicidal any more because his life has actual pillars of stuff that isn't just racing

his life isn't just like dependent on one jenga tower of racing with the pieces falling down

like, he can't wait to get back to racing but he's like, six months in to therapy or whatever and he's been living with daniel and it's... nice to just... watch movies with him and eat stuff and play computer games (daniel banned racing games so max has had to... compromise)

and maybe there are some... warm feelings

some best friend shit when he's never had real time for a best friend

some "i could probably spend more time with daniel in a forever kind of a way and not get tired of it" you know

BUT ALSO, daniel blowing up his life for max, he saw max in that hospital room and didn't once question what it would mean to him to step back and just... fuck shit up so that max would be okay

anyway drive to survive team show up and they do a bit of interviewing and it is VERY CLEAR that this isn't a natural fit for an episode because Max has, for once, got some shit to say

so they come back with an idea for a spin off documentary that's just Max and this injury and getting back to driving

because Daniel has kind of been fielding red bull this whole time, saying "he's not racing this year, leave him alone, give him some space", and he's got to go out and talk to them or do some promo stuff with them, whatever, he's going away

Max says the timing is good because he can do the main body of the interviewing about what's come before etc, then Daniel can come back and do his bits

and then the docu team are like, "where do you think you'd be right now if you hadn't crashed" and Max looks at the camera and says, "dead, I think" and the team know they're on to a winner because Max has realised that actually, driving like you don't care if you're alive if you don't win isn't actually okay

anyway Max does the documentary interviews and Daniel comes back and Max tells him he can talk about whatever he wants, it's fine but when the team ask him about helping Max when he realised he wasn't coping, Daniel won't give any details and says it's Max's story to tell and he just wanted to make sure his best friend was okay

not realising that he looks very much in love during this idk

ANYWAY SOME TIME PASSES and they do a bit more documentary stuff and Max is preparing to race again and Daniel is doing some stuff with red bull and he flies out somewhere to do an interview and photoshoot for some magazine or other.

The first clips from the documentary are released and they're on youtube and clipped up for instagram and Max posts them but the first picture is just like, 'this contains discussion of suicidal thoughts' etc

Daniel is preparing for this photoshoot and interview

anyway the first clip is about Max in hospital and they go straight in for the kill, Max saying, "I didn't want to live if I couldn't race.

"I didn't want to see anyone, I didn't want to speak to anyone, I shouted at the nurses, I just wanted to get somewhere so I could figure out how not to wake up again. And then Daniel walked in.

"He didn't know how bad it was, he didn't know anything specific, but he knew something was wrong and he got me out of there and he brought me here and got my surgery moved. And he didn't know he saved my life that day. He won't know until he sees this. But he saved my life that day."

END OF CLIP ONE, start of clip two

"You were suicidal," the interviewer says

"Yes," Max says. "The only thing that stopped me was that I didn't want Daniel to find me. He'd moved me to a different hospital and he'd rented this place for us so it was close to the doctors, and every day I woke up and he never knew that he kept me alive just by being here."

"But he found out in the end."

"Not how bad it was. Just that it was bad. And he got me help. And when that help didn't work, he got me more help. He's the best friend I've ever had, and I still haven't been able to tell him how bad it got."

end of clip two, start of clip three

except this clip is DANIEL

"I snuck in to see him in hospital. he wasn't doing great. He was kind of lost, and I didn't really know what I could do, but, like, I figured he needed some space so I got him some. Different hospital, different views, nothing to remind him about racing."

"But he was struggling?"

"Yeah," Daniel says. "He struggled. It was hard to see him when he couldn't race. He's my best friend. It was hard when he wasn't doing so well. But he's doing great now."

smile smile etc Daniel being happy

then a final max clip i think

"Do I still have that drive to win? God, yes. I'm going to win. That hasn't changed. I just want to live as well. I want to wake up tomorrow, and the next day, and the one after that, and win."

then a final slide with the documentary logo on and some suicide prevention helplines, idk

ANYWAY imagine Daniel, if you will, at a photography studio about to have pictures taken, crying his eyes out in the toilets because he's just found out Max wanted to die

so Daniel, who is always very professional, entirely bails on both the photo shoot and the interview so he can go home because he needs to see max

and Max lent him his plane because that's a normal thing excessively rich world champions have so it's not a fucking nightmare getting back from... wherever the interview is, somewhere not that far away in europe

and Daniel chooses to respond to Max's documentary clips on instagram

[ASIDE, my beloved friend as I was telling her this over Telegram, in response to that above: WHY????

Me: because this is MY 4am hurt comfort fic baby]

so anyway he makes a text post that just says Max is the bravest and best person he knows, he's fought so hard to be here, and that there hasn't been a day in Daniel's whole entire life that would have been better if Max wasn't here on this planet, and he's so glad he stayed

and then another one which is like, if anyone else feels like they don't want to go on, please stay, people love you, here's some helpline numbers etc

and Max just replies to him with a blue heart

important to understand that this is my four am comfort fic so it is ENTIRELY appropriate that Daniel walks through the door and both hugs him and starts to cry

and Max hugs him back but does not cry because Max has broken through a lot of shit in therapy but he is not a crier

but he IS accidentally in love with Daniel

and Max makes some Choices in his life, as Daniel does, but this choice involves touching Daniel's cheek and glancing at his mouth and then up at Daniel and Daniel kind of nodding and then there is a KISS

which is badly timed really considering that today has been very emotional and Daniel is still crying and has been travelling etc and they've never actually addressed any of this

so Daniel needs a moment and he goes into the bathroom to stare manfully into the mirror and wash his hands and face and when he comes out Max doesn't let him say anything, just launches into a multi point in-person powerpoint about how they should be together

[my friend: maxplaining his way into a relationshippp]

which Daniel, it turns out, entirely agrees with, but he's really kind of emotionally burnt out right now and would really just like a hug and a sit down, so he tells Max yes, of course, but could they just talk about it later and hug right now

How good is Max at listening to instuctions to stop talking?

not marvellous it turns out but daniel kind of likes it when max gets enthusiastic about stuff

even if the stuff in this case is a multipoint argument in favour of them being quite gay together

OH OH OH now we skip forward a bit

to when Max is racing again

first or second race out there for red bull

and daniel is kind of tied to red bull again

anyway Max WINS

hurray etc he's a conquering hero with a recovered broken neck

so once he's out of the car idk he's done the bit with the team and he spies daniel and goes over to hug him, which the cameras in general love, and then he goes off to do some kind of next step celebratory thing, cool-down room, whatever

only partway there he's like... um

has a feeling, one or two, you know the kind of thing

max hasn't historically been very good at feelings

or healthy choices

but anyway, he decides to act on this one, which is to go back to where Daniel is, and kiss him

which is as much of a surprise to daniel as it is to the whole of the media who are still around to film him

and then Max just turns back around and heads for the podium, so there's a very nice accidental shot of Daniel, afterwards, just smiling and ducking his head and touching his thumb to his lip

which turns into a very popular gif

for reasons

Anyway!! there is a LOT of discussion about Max losing his edge now his focus is not only racing

the documentary talks a lot about Max's childhood abuse and limited food intake etc etc but doesn't mention his dad by name

Daniel races again somehow but probably not in the fic

daniel ends up losing some bet or other and has to do a computer game live stream from his living room of some cosy game idk and the whole thing is interupted by max just living his life in the background

max getting up and sleepily saying morning, max going for a run and kissing him hello, max going in and out of the sim, idk, the two of them making weird noises at each other because they still do that

OH I forgot they buy a house together like immediately after getting together

somewhere green again and it's in both their names because they've lived together for a year already and whatever

and still don't tell anyone they're together even though red bull has them residing at the same address

and ZERO people realise until after the kiss on screen

and obviously the docu clips suggest they've been staying together

and Max gets to say to Christian that they literally own a house together when he expresses some degree of surprise at kissing in public

not their fault no one noticed

Forgot to say that max and Daniel get filmed driving about and max stalls his car and doesn’t know if he likes olives and maybe they forget they’re being filmed

And also that when the documentary finally airs all its eps Netflix on Twitter are like “lol bet you can’t figure out which bits we filmed after they got together and which were before because we certainly can’t, lol”

And Daniel’s in the comments, like “do I get a prize if I get it right”

He gets 9/10 clips right but no one but max knows

Anyway when they buy their house max has zero shits to give about the decor so daniel just gets a decorator in and the only thing max wants is a fancy catio for when they’re not there and his new cats want to go outside

Daniel arranges this because he’s a sucker for max.

anyway that's general plot of surviving to drive: the max verstappen recovery story, the end.

[sweet-potatah-pie]

Masterlist👸🏾💚🤴🏽

Here's my full list of Tiana x Naveen fan fiction!

Fun fact: all of my fics exist in the same canon universe! Below, I separated them into fics that make sense when read in a certain order and ones where the order doesn't matter.

Do I take requests? Sometimes. Click here for the types of requests I'm open to.

Just wanna chat patf? Send me an ask or message! 💖

This list updates as I update!!!

✨Best read in this order✨

A Place of Their Own | 7.8k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | Tiana and Naveen's second wedding night, but first time.

Tell Me a Story | 5.9k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | One night when Tiana can’t sleep, Naveen tells her a bedtime story worth staying awake for.

Just Drive | 3.6k words | One Shot | PG-13 | Naveen takes Tiana on a drive around the lake after an argument.

A Loneliness Like Theirs | 5.4k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | Tiana is lonely while Naveen is away in Maldonia...but not for long.

🆕 The People's Princess | 19.9k words and counting | Chapter 3 of 5 available | PG-13 | On Tiana’s first trip to Maldonia, she is confronted with a surprise that determines what type of princess she’ll be.

The Chocolate Venus | 13.6k words | 4 Chapters, Completed | Explicit, 18+ | On a trip to Paris, Tiana fears that she has reason to be jealous of Naveen’s famous old friend, Josephine Baker. But is that really the case?

Those Who Wait | 21.1k words | 5 Chapters, Completed | Explicit, 18+ | Someone special from Tiana’s past has turned up unexpectedly—and he’s not showing signs of retreating. But Naveen comes from a long line of conquerors, and he won’t back down so easily either.

Girls' Night Out | 2.4k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | Tiana, Georgia, and Lottie get ready together before a night out. Of course, their gossip turns towards Tiana’s love life—and if all those rumors about her husband are true.

King for a Day | 2.4k words | One Shot | PG-13 | Tiana wants her family and friends to try her new king cake recipe, but there's a bigger surprise hidden in the cake than expected.

Caught in the Storm | 10.4k words | 3 Chapters, Completed | Explicit, 18+| When a tired Tiana struggles to fall asleep one night, Naveen takes her to the restaurant’s rooftop to pass the time. But will the unexpected rain ruin their fun—or add to it?

Lovers for Life | 1.8k words | One Shot | Mature, NC-17| Another day. Another lucky morning Tiana and Naveen get to wake up to each other, even if they have to keep a few guests waiting.

Make a Wish | 7.2k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | When their snowy getaway doesn’t go as planned, Tiana turns her husband’s birthday trip into a night that’s hotter than he ever imagined.

✨Read in any order✨

In the Hot Seat | 7.9k words | 3 Chapters, Completed | Explicit, 18+ | Tiana and Naveen try their best to escape the Louisiana heat. But will they end up keeping their cool, or heating things up instead?

I'm Going to Make You Scream | 8.6k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | When Tiana’s voodoo costume does not flatter as intended, Mama Odie makes Naveen teach the princess a Halloween lesson she won't soon forget.

The Most Important Meal of the Day | 4.6k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | As Tiana prepares breakfast, Naveen gets a craving for something a little different.

Heat and Steam | 5.3k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | Naveen has just finished building a shower for Tiana in their bathroom. He wants her to test it out. She wants him to join her.

Midnight Masquerade | 6.3k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | After a night full of mingling and dancing at Charlotte’s masquerade ball, Tiana and Naveen sneak away for a moment—and hope they don’t get caught.

Drunk in Love | 5.6k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | Tiana and Naveen are readying the restaurant's store room for health inspection. But things take a turn when they discover a not-so-empty wine barrel in their inventory.

💖💖💖

[tteokdoroki]

✩࿐TRACK 05: SUMMER. hanta sero (2K)

about. after a whirl wind summer of fucking around - sero realises he’s in some deep, deep shit. he’s in love with you, but you’re set to move across the globe by the end of the season. what the hell is he gonna to do?

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! suggestive, sfw, slight angst, fluff, happy ending, sneaky links, mentions of (car) sex, friends with benefits to lovers, love confessions, sidekick + fem!reader, pro hero!sero.

things to note. reee can you believe the series is almost over? one last fic and then we’re done sobs!! this one is so corny but i love it !! some lovely sero content for you this humble saturday, i hope you enjoy <3 - masterlist / series masterlist / series playlist ✩

this was so fucked up. 

everyone had warned sero about what he was doing. his playboy antics would soon catch up to him and soon he would be the one catching feelings — he had listened to his friends but he didn’t think it would be true. he wouldn’t be this fucking whipped for a girl who was bound to leave him by the end of the season.

of course, bakugou had been the voice of reason, but his reasoning was worth questioning since he had just flown half way across the country to get back together with his girlfriend. they were going to make it work this time. lucky them. 

but hanta isn’t in the same situation as any of his old high school friends — he’s been messing about with a sidekick from bakugou’s agency who was set to transfer to america right after summer ended. doing things he shouldn’t have been doing, fucking you in places where he shouldn’t have, catching feelings when he shouldn’t have. at the start of this sneaky arrangement, the dark haired hero had told you that everything in the romantic sense was off limits.

no love, no lips, no strings. 

unfortunately for him, he can’t seem to get enough of you. he’s been trying so hard not to fall in love, but every time you kiss it’s like you’re healing all of his wounds and filling him up with life. sero first noticed it was bad when he caught himself avoiding flirting with other people, ignoring subtle invitations back to their place all in respect for your feelings. since when did hanta sero care about not hurting you? since when did he like you enough to always have you on his mind?

he would call it off as soon as the leaves turned. at least that’s what he’d promised himself — no more favours, he would act like your summer romance never even existed…but sero finds himself warming up the idea of holding you close through summer nights, growing excited at the feeling of your head against his chest so you could hear his dull heart beat.

it’s disgusting how fast his mind had changed about you, a sickly sweet and syrupy feeling coursing through the hero’s veins and clogging the arteries that led to heart just from you looking at him. like right now. your big doe eyes trained on hanta as you throw his shirt over your naked body. you’re giggling awkwardly, revelling im the brush of his sweat slicked skin against you own after the pair of you had fucked around and gotten a little messy in the backseat of his car.

he would never let this happen if it were anybody else, but you just had to be different.

“you’re staring, han,” you coo, teasing him. mocking him. as if you know how whipped he is for you. from your place, bare between the thighs in his lap, you lean forward and let your lips connect in a slow and sensual kiss — hanta lets you guide the motion and settles his calloused hands on the curve of your waist, chasing your sweet taste and your softness as he tries to cherish the moment knowing that this won’t last forever. “you good?” 

the way you breathe against sero’s open mouth drives him fucking insane — like a drug with a high so worth it he doesn’t mind if the crash kills him. “s’nothin’ princess,” he can’t help but lie, keeping his voice even. who would he be if he admitted that that he wanted more than this summer situationship he was putting himself through just for the sake of being with you. “don’t you worry your pretty little head.” 

he gives your waist a reassuring squeeze, but it does nothing to soothe the pout on your face. “hanta, we’ve been doing this long enough for me to tell when something’s bothering you,” looking away from his obsidian eyes, you trace a random pattern against the black ink  tattoo on his right shoulder, colouring outside of the lines. “you can be honest with me.” 

sero so wishes that he could be. however there’s some sort of innate barrier in his mind that stops him from admitting his truth to you. telling you how he feels won’t stop you from going across the globe to live out your fullest potential as a hero and everyone knows that long distance doesn’t work. it would never work with hanta, you probably wouldn’t be able to trust him enough… not with his past fuckboy reputation. 

“i promise it’s not worth worrying about, gorgeous.” he boops your nose, heart siezing in his chest when your face scrunches adorably at the contact. “once summer ends and you’re on the way to the states, you won’t need to stress over me, kay?” 

a quiet fills the car once sero finishes speaking, and panic takes a hold of his battling emotions. did he let slip what the real problem was? 

“you want to end this, don’t you?” your lips press into a thin line but you don’t make a move to pull away from him. the black haired hero blinks, his mind blanking. it’s now or never. “god! how could i be so stupid. to think i was going to stay here for you! i should have never gotten myself involved with you, bakugou warned me about this. he said as soon as i caught feelings it would be over and you would never feel the same—“ your mouth runs a mile a minute, all of your thoughts coming out as a whiny blur. 

it takes sero a moment to realise, but his brain catches one detail throughout your ramble — nestled between your hiccups for breath and the sound of cicadas in the bushes outside of his car. firmly, he grips your wrists before you can pull off of him — guilt settling his features when he notices the tears beginning to brew in your pretty eyes. 

“what?” you snap, voice wobbling. “let go of me hanta.” 

“no!” he snaps back. “look at me, princess.” 

“get off!” 

“just give me a second!”

both of your chests are heaving, your eyes wide and wet — and sero can’t believe how fucking beautiful you look even when teary eyed. even when it’s because of him. “just, let’s wait a minute. let me talk, okay?” once you give sero the okay and stop withdrawing from him, he pulls you to lay on his chest (just like he’s done many times before) so that you can hear just how fast his heart is racing for you. “princess,” he begins, brushing a hand down your spine to make you shiver and curl into him some more. “i’ve never been good at this feelings thing… i’ve never even been in a proper relationship b’fore…”

“is this supposed to be making me feel better, han?” 

the dark haired hero rolls his eyes despite the flustered expression that settles on his features. “aye, didn’t i ask you to let me finish?” sero half-heartedly scolds you, covering his face in embarrassment while his fingers curl in his bangs in frustration. he peeks one midnight black eye open at you once you quiet down. “good girl.” 

you pinch his nipple in response. “watch it.” 

“alright, alright, sorry princess,” inhaling deep, sero takes the plunge. “i’ve never been in a proper relationship, before you?” his lean shoulders raise, indicating how hard he’s trying. “like…this past summer, you’ve made me feel happy in ways i didn’t even know were possible. i wake up in the mornings ‘n i’m thinking of you. going by to bed it’s the same…and I can’t even explain the way i feel when i get to see you.” 

hanta feels your gaze on him, yet instead of clamming up, he swallows his pride and pushes forward. “when…when you leave; i feel like it’s going to kill me. and this isn’t me asking you to stay, princess. it’s me tellin’ you that i broke every rule i had in place for you. i think…i think that i love you.” 

a burning sensation pricks at the tips of sero’s ears as a blush spread over his body and you remain quiet. giving your hips a squeeze, he dares to look up and meet your soft stare. 

“say somethin’, princess.” 

“you love me?” when you finally snap out of your reverie, stunned into silence by your fuck buddy’s speech, you somehow manage to croak the words out shyly. sero nods once.

seconds later, a shining smile breaks out on your face — practically illuminating the back of sero’s car. “yeah. yeah i love you…” he mumbles, tipping his head up towards yours as he brushes a calloused thumb over your slightly chapped bottom lip. “i know we said no love but… i really want to…” 

“kiss me, hanta.” comes your soft command and he wastes no time in doing what he’s told — lurching forward to capture your hot mouth in a slow, calculated kiss. hanta sero pours every feeling he can’t seem to say out loud into you, hoping that you’re able to grasp how much he’s fallen for you. 

panting and with burning lungs, you pull away from one another when the need for air becomes way too much. “if you couldn’t already tell by that kiss, i love you too hanta.” you say, pressing your forehead against his, grimacing playfully at the feeling of his sweaty bangs against your sticky skin. 

“i’d fuckin’ hope so,” sero beams, grabbing your chin to get another taste. “‘m gonna miss you when you leave me.” 

“i’ll miss you more,” you breathe back, cupping his face. “we’ll figure this out.” 

“right. we’ll figure it out together.”  hanta agrees, opting to live in the moment with you instead of dwelling on what’s to come. and even though he still thinks it’s fucked up that he tried and failed at not falling in love, he truly is grateful for the three months you’ve had together this summer — looking forward the to the many more you’ll have in the future.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[aimixx]

Alhaitham x GN! Reader Synopsis: It is your birthday, and Alhaitham decided to give you 4 gifts to convey his feelings for you.

For @baeshijima's birthday HAPPY BIRTHDAY BFF ILY HOPE YOU ENJOY THE FIC

Taglist: @astranne @hakunonn @scarlet-kazuha @jackpotsadgirl69420 @yoizhi @baelloraa @itsyourgirlria @itsactuallylina @vinnie-w (wanna be tagged? fill out this form!) Words: 2682

ao3 link

"Did you see the Acting Grand Sage around?"

"No, he took a day off."

The greatest shock in the Akademiya, Alhaitham took a day off. He would always be in his office or the library, a day off is very rare.

Today is a special day for Alhaitham, it is your birthday.

From all the dates you two had together, he knows everything you like and what will make you happy. He prepared small gifts throughout the day, gifts that show how much he appreciates your existence in his life.

Morning: Acts of service

8 AM

Alhaitham woke up quietly so as to not wake you up. Although he doesn’t want to leave the bed at all. The sight of you sleeping peacefully in his arms, your peaceful sleeping face looking absolutely lovely as the soft rays of the sun caressed your skin. Every time he tried to move his arms you would move closer to him and breathe a soft sigh as you got closer to him, all of your sleepy actions are making him want to continue sleeping in your warmth.

But he has to get up, for your first gift.

After successfully getting out of bed without waking you up, he slowly made his way to the kitchen to prepare your morning gift. A nice breakfast in bed. With the help of books and some people he knows who are good at cooking, he made you a nice and healthy breakfast. Scrambled eggs with hash brown and cherry tomatoes with orange juice and a dessert of pancakes. 

“So, did you think about your books today?”

In an attempt to get Alhaitham out of the work mood, you decided to take him on a nice adventure in the magical forests of Varanara. With its unique trees, calm atmosphere where you won’t get ambushed by any wild fungi, the soft melodies of the Aranara that can be heard all over the forest. You knew that this place would make Alhaitham’s mind drift away from work, the books he read and anything related to the Akademiya.

From the start of the day, you and Alhaitham took a nice and safe walk to the mystical forest. The moment you entered, the two of you felt a sense of security and happiness dwell in you. Many people had similar experiences in the forest, you heard so many stories about this forest that made you really want to visit it and take Alhaitham with you.

As you two explored the forest, you told him about all the stories of the adventurers who explored this place. One adventurer was being chased by a group of hilichurls and he ran to Varanara, the moment he stepped in the forest the hilichurls stopped chasing him, as if something stopped them, and they ran back to their camp. Another adventurer got lost in the forest and was very hungry then heard some noise behind him. He looked and found a plate of freshly cooked Masala Cheese Balls, he said that this dish has saved his life and he believes that it's a gift from the Aranara.

Right now, you two are relaxing near the Tree of Dreams. Laying down on the soft grass around the tree, you two start to recall the adventure you had and the main reason why you two got out to Varanara in the first place.

“I didn’t. It’s nice to relax like this.” Alhaitham said, he enjoyed himself a lot on this trip, he tried many things he didn’t do before and he is so happy he did those things with you. It was a new experience that not only taught him about the nature and mysteries of the Aranara, but he also tried new experiences with you.

“Alhaitham,” You said, sitting up from the ground and looking at him, “It’s okay to relax and have a day where you explore a new place just for fun or have a lazy day at home.”

The sweet memory replayed in Alhaitham’s mind as he finished preparing your birthday breakfast. After putting everything nicely on the tray, he took the breakfast to the bedroom and was greeted by the sight of you just waking up.

“Happy birthday, love.” Alhaitham said, you slowly sat up and rubbed your eyes as he walked up to you. “For the first gift, I made you a nice breakfast for the day.”

“Alhaitham, thank you so much.” You said, taking the tray from him and admiring the breakfast he prepared for you. He sat down next to you, giving you a soft kiss on the forehead before you started eating your breakfast.

The day just started and you are loving it.

Noon: Words of affirmation

For your second gift of the day, you found yourself back in Varanara. But this time it is Alhaitham leading you into the forest.

You asked him many times where are you going but he kept avoiding your question, so you just gave up and followed wherever he took you. Which ended up being Varanara. He ended up taking you to a place where a lone house stands surrounded by water.

The sun was setting, the soft breeze made the giant leaves that acted like trees dance softly to the melody that was playing around the area. 

That was a new melody that you had never heard before. Before you questioned your lover, he turned around and held out his hand.

“I asked for some help from the traveler since they can see the Aranara and they were kind enough to prepare a special melody. Would you care for this dance?” He asked, putting a hand behind his back and holding out his hand like a male lead from those Isekai novels of Inazuma. 

“You know how to dance?”

“I do.”

You took his hand and he held you close, a hand on your hip as the other held your hand, the two of you then started dancing to the melody of the Aranara.

As the two of you danced, another memory played in Alhaitham’s mind as he gazed softly into your eyes.

He was finally alone in the house, for an entire day, and there’s no Kaveh that will wake him up in the middle of the night since he’s staying over at Gandhara Ville.

Finally, some peace and quiet. At least that’s what he thought. 

You decided to visit him today.

“I met Kaveh on the way and he told me that you’re all alone tonight so I’m staying over” You said, walking into his home and sitting on the couch. “C’mon, lay down a bit and relax. Let’s enjoy that time together.”

Alhaitham walked over to you and laid down like you said, his head resting on your lap. You proceeded to softly comb his hair with your fingers. He slowly felt himself relaxing into your soft touch. “So what do you want to do?” You asked. Alhaitham, who had his eyes closed, opened them and looked up at you.

“Can we stay like this for a while?” He asked, you noticed the exhaustion in his eyes, “I’m tired from all the work of the week and also brushing my hair is relaxing.” He finished his sentence and looked away from your eyes, a blush starting to appear on his cheeks. 

“I didn’t know the Acting Grand Sage could be like this.” You giggled and poked his flushed cheek, making him blush even more.

“I would never do this to anyone at all.” Alhaitham started, his eyes going back to look into yours. “I know how people will not hesitate to use anyone to their advantage, I know that these days no one has good intentions in wanting to be your friend. You are different from all of them.”

“How am I different?”

“You will know later.” Alhaitham said and closed his eyes and you two enjoyed the peaceful moment together.

“Remember what I told you a few days ago?” He said, twirling you around as the music played.

“About how I’m different?” You asked, he smiled as he pulled you back in his arms, his hands on your hips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I waited for today to tell you the answer.” Alhaitham started, “You are different (y/n), you are honest with me, you approached me with no ill intentions or wanting to use me. You love me for who I am, and I love you for who you are. I love everything about you, even the little things. I love you so much and I will say it again and again until the end of time.”

As you heard those words, you felt yourself tear up. No words came out of your mouth to reply to his confession, so you just leaned in and kissed him. 

A passionate kiss shared between the beautiful couple in the majestic forest of Varanara, surrounded by the Aranara who you two can’t see, but they are all singing for you.

Afternoon: Receiving Gifts

For the third gift of the day, it is something that Alhaitham personally made. Something you really wished for at the beginning of your friendship.

It was back in the time when you two were Akademiya students.

As always, Alhaitham is in the library, but this time he is not reading a book and actually is hiding from a group of students who won’t stop asking him questions. He hid in a secluded corner that he knows that no one will find him here.

When he went to that corner, he expected it to be empty but he found a student sleeping. A young student with books all over the table, it looked like they were studying and sleep took over them.

Alhaitham walked over to the student, looking over at their notes and the student got up. The young boy backed up a bit as the student sat up and looked at him.

“Thanks for waking me up.” They said, giving him a soft smile. “I’m (y/n).” 

“Alhaitham.” He replied, “why are you here?”

“I want to study in peace without people giving me Valentine’s day gifts.” They started, “I don’t mind it but sometimes it gets excessive and emotionally exhausts me. So I went here and did all of this to show that I’m studying.”

“How do you know I’m not one of the people who want to give you a gift too?” He asked, the student smiled and pointed at his hands.

“First of all, you’re not holding anything. Secondly, if you were one of them then you would’ve been kicked out of the library for making too much noise.” 

His interest piqued, making him pull a chair and sit down. “Mind if I join you? I’m also hiding from some students who won’t stop pestering me.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Hey,” You started after a few minutes of silence, “What is something you really want?”

Alhaitham thought for a while, he wanted many things. Graduation, the Akademiya to change its rules, a peaceful life. He wanted so many things, but he couldn’t say them all.

“I want to live in peace.” He replied. The young boy wants to have peace in everything, in life, in society. He wanted peace so that everyone can have the luxury of being safe.

“I want to have a flower crown made by my future lover.” You replied, Alhaitham stared at you and raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

“Yes. It’s nice. It feels like this person really loves you and won’t hesitate to get wild flowers from the forests of Sumeru and make a flower crown specifically for you.” 

Many years have passed, and he still remembers your wish. 

After your dance, he took you to Port Ormos to dine in a restaurant by the clear waters and try something new together. This was your first trip to Port Ormos together and he also booked a room in an Inn for you two to spend the night at the beautiful port of Sumeru.

After your meal together, you two took a walk around the port and sat down on a bench facing the sea. Alhaitham, knowing it is the perfect opportunity, pulled out a box from his bag and gave it to you.

“Here,” He said, putting the box in your hands. “ Your third gift of the day.”

“How many gifts did you prepare?” You asked, taking the box and looking at him.

“Four, now open the box.”

You nodded, removing the ribbon from the box and opening it. 

In the box, laid a flower crown made of red and pink tulips. Your eyes widened as you pulled it out of the box and stared at it in awe. You then looked at Alhaitham, who was giving you a soft smile as you admired the beautiful flower crown.

“Did you make this?”

“Yes. You always wanted a flower crown made by your future lover, so I made your wish come true.” 

After those words, he took the crown from your hands and placed it carefully on your head.

“Happy birthday dear, I love you so much.”

Evening: Quality Time

The sun is out, the moon is illuminating the sky with the stars decorating the night sky. You can still hear the hustle and bustle of the city but it is calmer than the morning. You and Alhaitham retired to your room in the Inn, sitting down in the chairs outside in the balcony of the room and admiring the view of the port.

“Honey, remember when we were talking about going to the beach together?” 

“That was a month ago.”

“Yeah, and you remembered. You remember everything I ever asked for throughout the time we knew each other, even before we started our relationship. How long did you like me?” You asked, Alhaitham turned his head to look at you and smiled.

“If I say after meeting you again I would be lying. I started liking you way back when we were students.”

It all started when I always met you every time I wanted to be alone. You were always there, as if you knew I didn’t want to be alone.

I thought you just wanted to use me like everyone else, I thought that you would leave me if I became your friend.

You still stayed, even when I ignored you, even when I turned down your friendship offer. You stayed.

You stayed and your presence was comforting, you knew what makes me annoyed and uncomfortable without me telling you about them. You understood me and stayed by my side.

You became my first friend in the Akademiya, I wanted to be a lot closer to you but I was scared. Scared that you will also leave if I ever admit that I love you.

After graduation, we all went our separate ways and I never saw you again for a long time. But then you appeared again.

Appeared again when I saved Lesser Lord Kusanali and wanted you by my side, cheering me on and telling me ‘you did it. You did it, Alhaitham. I am so proud of you’

And you did, you came and told me the exact same words I wanted to hear. 

“My love for you grew even more then, you are the most precious person in my life and I’m afraid to lose you.” 

After his words, you pulled him into a hug, making sure that his head was resting on your chest.

“Alhaitham, I am here for you, I won’t leave. I can’t leave, I love you so much that imagining a world without you is simply impossible.”

“We will be together until the end, I won’t leave you alone. I will give you a hug whenever you need one, I will hold your hand all the time, I will always be there for you. Thank you for this amazing day and the gifts too. I love you so much.”

Today, your birthday, was an unforgettable one. 

Because you spent it with the person you love the most.

[orchideous-nox]

what are some problematic opinions you have??

I really don't think any of my opinions are problematic? Idk, I guess I'll let the people be the judge of that. I want to preface that these are how I feel personally and I would never try to enforce my opinions on others. Ship who you want to ship, love who you want to love. If you disagree with any of my opinions then that's fine but please don't try and convince me to "see your reasoning", these are opinions I'm pretty set on.

I don't particularly multiship, not because I have no sense of fun but because I genuinely can't understand how people ship Barty with Sirius or Narcissa with Lily or Evan with James etc. It makes so sense and no amount of reasoning will ever convince me that anybody other than Evan can stand Barty to a degree that they want to fuck him. He's so annoying and I mean that with all the love in the world as an Evan kin. I think Sirius needs Remus to mellow him out. Lily and Narcissa is just a no from me. Period.

I think sometimes the fandom forgets that relationships can be platonic. Friends exist, not every character needs to fuck all of their best friends because they understand each other so deeply. Yes, they have great chemistry...as friends. Platonically. Do you want to fuck your best friend? .......actually you're on tumblr and a marauders fan so who knows

People are so desperate in this fandom for others to talk about the girls more but then when people do post about them there is like no interaction. From experience, the boys get more hits, more kudos, more notes etc. I write about Rosekiller expecting not much attention, I'm not in it to get popular otherwise I would stick to Jegulus and Wolfstar rather than my precious murder husbands. But whenever I post about the girls the comments are dryyyyy and it's not fun. I love getting comments and replies so I can interact with others and talk about headcanons. It feels like as soon as I post about the girls people forget that they were encouraging more of that content in the first place.

Fanon and canon are blurring and not in a fun way. There are certain headcanons that people take from fanon or even from specific popular fics and start stretching canon to fit the fanon and then get angry when people don't stick to it. Saying a character is canonically a certain way because of implications in the canon can be really harmful.

I don't particularly care for OCs in fics. I read these stories for the characters I like and if an OC has like a massive chunk of a chapter on their own or even whole chapters or whole fics I will likely skip or even DNF because that's just not what I'm here for. Like I don't care.

If a character isn't attractive in this fandom, people don't care. Just because someone doesn't have rippling abs and perfect skin, it doesn't mean you can write them off as being bad. People can be hot and fat, ugly and fat, ugly and skinny, ugly and a good or interesting person!!! As a plus size person, I have spent my whole life looking at media portrayals saying that I am not worth attention until I am skinny, only then can I be attractive, and this fandom can be just as guilty sometimes (I'm looking at you people who make Snape hot to justify liking him, and making Peter have no personality besides being fat).

People are way to eager to interact with content they don't like to tell them they don't like it. Look up what an algorithm is, hun, I'm begging you. (this isn't controversial unless you are one of those people who does that)

Okay, hopefully I've not lost anyone along the way. Like I said, don't try and convince me I'm "wrong" in the comments, these are opinions and cannot be factually incorrect < 3

[naranjapetrificada]

The first thing I should ever have said about Izzy and the last thing I intend to say until at least October 26th.

[Although I am not Her strongest soldier, so who knows if I will stick the landing.]

So to start with, I was a "late" arrival to the show. I knew it existed of course, but I only occasionally saw things that reminded me it existed. The first time I saw a mention of "grumpy/sunshine" it was with a picture of Ed and Stede, so I guess on some level I knew there was shipping going on, but that was literally all I knew. I didn't even know it involved Blackbeard lol.

Which is all to say that I first approached and watched season 1 removed from basically anything anyone had to say about it. I think what actually got me to watch it wasn't anything anyone had to say either, it was from youtube recommendations? Like I think I had watched a couple Taika interviews or something and ofmd stuff started showing up? So after catching a few clips and intentionally spoiling the kiss for myself (life is too short to be queerbaited) I watched it in April/May 2023, and was Changed by it the way so many other people were. It grabbed me so hard I started looking for fics, and when fic grabbed me even harder I became a regular tumblr user for the first time ever in June 2023.

What I didn't do, before the second half of 2023, was care particularly much about Izzy Hands.

I remember describing him as psychologically fascinating to the first IRL friend I talked to about the show, and joking that he just needed a good dom. As much as his decision to call in the navy was a threat to Stede's and Ed's lives, I saw his actions as part of a thing needed for the story, and while I knew he was one of the season's villains there wasn't really any heat behind that assessment.

For me he was there to set things in motion, and to serve the narrative in certain ways, to be a foil, more storytelling tool than man. That doesn't mean I didn't think Con did an excellent job adding layers to him, he absolutely made Izzy take up space and feel more present and textured than he otherwise might have. But when I began to zoom out and consider things on meta level, Izzy existed to do a certain thing or occupy a certain place in relation to the narrative and other characters more than anything else. And that was fine.

Then I started reading meta here, and found myself surrounded by passionate conversations about Izzy from many directions occurring with an intensity that I couldn't wrap my brain around. I saw people tying themselves into knots to justify and excuse the behavior of a textual antagonist, and I was baffled and because I still saw Izzy for what his role in the narrative was, it literally made no sense to see his behavior explained away. In the framework I brought to the fandom when I first arrived, trying to explain away Izzy's behavior would be like looking at a forest fire and trying to explain away processes like combustion and oxidation. Or if you'll allow me to borrow another extended, nature-based metaphor from a fic in an entirely different fandom:

Again, because from where my head was at, it didn't make sense to look at Izzy's morality as a zero sum game because in this metaphor, he was functionally just a brackish body of water. I'm not saying the morality is brackish, I'm saying the morality was literally not the point because like an estuary, an antagonist "must exist" because antagonists exist for specific reasons directly related to storytelling goals.

So there was no real heat behind my feelings about him or his actions, beyond the natural emotional reactions we have to characters and their behaviors before we zoom out. I was of course upset with his treatment of Lucius, which was targeted compared to other members of the crew. I was annoyed with the way he talked to and about Ed. I laughed when his plans had the equal and opposite results of what he intended, which you could argue happened with every single plan he made for the entirety of season 1. And yes, especially as a Black person living in the US, I felt the fear and betrayal that comes from seeing someone call the cops (which given the show and its writers, it does not feel like a stretch to describe calling the navy that). I wondered if there was any coming back from a choice like that, which is a big overriding question for the series as a whole.

I'm not here to debate any of the points in the previous paragraph. I know how I feel and you feel how you feel and there's already been so much said about the morality of it all by people who have explained themselves well, so let them convince you or not. Instead I've been trying to talk about the two sides of my experience before and after getting into the fandom with Izzy.

Before: Izzy Hands, Narratively Useful Antagonist Portrayed Compellingly And Effectively by Con O'Neill.

After: Izzy Hands, Unfortunate Avatar Of The Sadly Common Tendency For Certain Fans To Hyperfocus On A White Antagonist Or Secondary Character When There Already Exists A Protagonist They're A Foil Of (And Also It Looks Bad TO Do That When The Protagonist Is Someone With A Marginalized Identity).

I'm not here to argue the merits of those assessments either, because that's not the point. The point is the vast gulf between them and how the latter does such an incredible disservice to the Izzy we were given and that so many people claim to love. The latter comes from a place where morality is the focus, which I'm sorry y'all, feels like it originates with people who refuse to countenance Izzy's role in the story as well as his characterization.

Viewers who were willing to see Izzy as an antagonist, who don't view the word "antagonist" as a value judgement in and of itself, who don't think that finding an antagonist charismatic or compelling means anything about their own morality, those people can look at the show we were given and take it for what it was made to be. I'm not saying that it's only the Izzy stans (not enjoyers, not jar people) who start fights or that people who understand that Izzy is an antagonist don't also have deep morality related feelings about him and his actions in the first season. What I am saying is that sanding off Izzy's rough edges and trying to make him into something he isn't poisons even the possibility of having a discussion about him because people enter the conversation with two completely different understandings of reality. If you cannot accept the job that season 1 Izzy was given to do to move the story along, well you might as well have watched a completely different show for how much that fanon Izzy has anything to do with the canon one.

This show deserves better than that. The writers deserve better than that. Con O'Neill deserves better than that. Israel Basilica Hands deserves better than that. We all do.