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punkshort · 9 months

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Chapter Two

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

May 2003

It had been almost a month since you started your new job and you were getting the hang of things quickly. You always prided yourself on learning fast and being an overachiever. Everybody in your department seemed very friendly and helpful, but you really hit it off with Colleen and Debbie, given the proximity of your desks, and your mutual age range. It felt nice to have a couple friends, although you have yet to hang out outside of work, so were they really your “friends”? They had invited you out drinking with them a couple of times, but you politely declined, still feeling a little shy.

You had, however, been spending more time with one of the few men in your department, Justin, who worked in payroll. You could tell he was interested in you as more than just friends, so you weren’t shocked when he asked you out on a date. In a moment of weakness, you agreed, figuring it was about time you got out on the town and had a little fun. Justin was a little taller than you but not by much. He had sandy blonde hair and kind, brown eyes, always clean shaven, and most importantly he was a safe bet. You could tell by the moment you met, he was a mild mannered, sweet guy, very non-threatening. He was easy to get along with, and you hoped with time, maybe you could develop stronger feelings towards him. You haven’t had a boyfriend since college, and you were starting to become lonely. A quiet, sweet guy is just what you thought you needed to shake the dust off.

As far as work went, you were getting rather confident in your abilities in your new role. You were even beginning to learn about some of the company’s clients over the phone when you called requesting payment status on past due invoices. Today was one of those days. You had been on the phone for nearly half an hour with Mr. Sullivan, a client who was behind a few months on his payments.

Miller & Miller was remodeling a few floors of a high rise into office space for Mr. Sullivan’s insurance company, which had been growing exponentially to the point where Mr. Sullivan was having trouble keeping up with all the business, let alone his bills. However, you sadly learned that Mr. Sullivan’s wife had unexpectedly been hospitalized for the past 3 weeks, and you could tell listening to his voice shake over the phone that it was hard for him to talk about. You patiently listened to him and gave gentle words of encouragement when the moments called for it, and at the end of the call he assured you that the check he promised to mail out today would cover all the backed invoices. You hung up the phone, thanking him for addressing the matter, and wished him and his wife well.

“Sheesh, that was a long call, what was that all about?” Colleen asked, craning her neck around the wall of your cubicle. You turned and filled her in on Mr. Sullivan and his wife, and how you had felt bad asking for money when he clearly had just too much going on at the moment. She stood from her desk and entered your cube as you spoke. She was wearing her hair in a ponytail today and a floral skirt with a pink blouse. You started to wonder if all she owned was pink. It definitely matched her personality. Colleen leaned against the back of your desk as you finished your story, nodding along, brows knit.

"Make sure to fill Heather in before our meeting today, in case Joel asks what the deal is,” she reminded you. You froze for a second, forgetting that today was the department meeting with Joel. It was your first meeting with him, and even the first time laying eyes on him. Having only heard stories for the past month, your imagination was beginning to make this man out to be a big, bad wolf.

“Right,” you nodded, jotting down the reminder on a post-it note. “Good call, thank you. I completely forgot; I should get some notes ready on the other clients I know about.” You chewed your lip nervously, and Colleen picked up on it.

“Don’t stress it! He probably won’t even acknowledge you today, just lay low, and avoid eye contact. Ha, it sounds like I’m describing a how you should act if you see a bear!” She joked, and you gave her a forced laugh in response. Colleen walked back to her desk and you began furiously looking up all of the clients you are familiar with, jotting down notes on your pad for the upcoming meeting that afternoon.

The morning flew by, and Heather was booked with meetings all day. You never got a chance to touch base with her about your notes, so you sent her an email around 11am with all the information you had, praying she would be at her desk at some point before your department meeting with Joel and print it out, at the very least. Still, just in case, you grabbed your notepad as the whole team filed out the door together to the 10th floor conference room after lunch.

Once upstairs, you all settled into a long room with an equally long table, with a huge glass wall that overlooked the city, and another wall with a large TV screen installed so that presentations could be displayed. A conference phone, and a pitcher of water with glasses sat in the center of the long, dark wood table, the Miller & Miller logo emblazoned on the glasses.

Justin settled in the chair next to you. He shot you a shy smile and reassuredly grazed his pinky finger against the back of your hand. You glanced up from the contact and smiled back at him. He was so sweet and gentle, but you were still lacking that spark. It had been a few weeks of you seeing each other several times outside of work. You knew you had to decide soon about this relationship, either take the next step and sleep with him, or end things. You dreaded thinking about the tension in the office if you stop seeing Justin, but the spark just wasn’t there yet.

Heather hurriedly entered the room, taking a seat at one end of the table. You opened your mouth, about to get her attention and ask if she saw your email, when the door swung open behind her and in walked Joel. You snapped your mouth shut and your eyes darted up to finally take him in.

You already picked up on the vibe everyone told you about: he radiated a certain level of irritation across his tanned face. He had an angular nose; and messy, dark curls for hair that somehow also looked styled, and a patchy beard along his jaw, which ticked to the side as he walked. He had dark eyes that did not even bother to sweep over any of you already seated as he made his way to the head of the table. He wore a pair of grey dress pants and a light blue button up shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, showing off toned and tanned forearms. Behind him walked another man, who appeared to be a few years younger than him, hair longer than Joel’s but just as dark. He had a smattering of facial hair, but less so along the sides of his jaw. He wore a dark black suit with a white shirt, and a blue tie. Tommy – you determined for yourself, as you watched the two men sit next to one another.

Tommy ran his eyes over the group and shot you all a tight smile as he readjusted himself in the chair next to his brother. Joel kept his eyes down on the papers in front of him as he sorted them, still ignoring the presence of everyone else in the room. It was so quiet, you thought everyone could hear your heart hammering in your chest. It appeared nobody planned to speak until Joel decided the meeting began. You averted your gaze from the two brothers and reviewed your notes again for the hundredth time, your stomach twisting in knots over the tension in the room. You snuck a glance back over to Heather at the other end of the table. Her face was stoic and unreadable. She kept her eyes down on her portfolio, placing a calculator next to her on the table, patiently waiting.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take the tension any longer, Joel finally stopped shuffling his papers around and looked up. You tried your best to not look over at him again, the advice about staying below the radar swimming in the back of your head, but something about him was magnetic. Your head remained tilted downward at your notes, but you found your gaze was slowly making its way along the length of the table, reaching his large and rough looking hands resting on his papers, continuing up his forearms to take in his broad shoulders that looked to be fighting against the fabric of his button down, and finally landed on his face again. Your eyes widened when you found that his gaze had already been settled on you, and noticed the whole time you were checking him out.

Were you checking him out? Or were you just curious? Shit.

Your eyes darted away and back to your notepad. You felt your pulse quickening in your throat, as you gently swallowed and nervously squirmed in your chair. It was then that Justin discreetly placed a tender hand on your knee, sensing your discomfort. Unbeknownst to you, Justin’s movement hadn’t been all that subtle. Joel saw, and then flicked his eyes away from you, back to Heather.

“Alright, let’s get started, I got a full afternoon so I'd like to keep this short. What're the numbers for month end, let’s see ‘em up on the screen.”

His voice matched his gruff and harsh demeanor. He had a deep baritone, with a slight twang to the way he spoke, which made you think he must have grown up somewhere else but tried to suppress the accent. You did your best to stay focused on the meeting, but your mind kept wandering to Joel, in a way you did not expect before entering the room. You stay tuned into his voice, trying to pick up little hints as to where that accent was from, and you found yourself daydreaming about those large hands, what it would feel like if –

Stop it. Get ahold of yourself, you have a boyfriend!

You gently shook your head, as if the physical motion would actually make those thoughts go away. You figured you must be losing it; this guy was at least ten years older than you and certainly not the type of man you had been with before, not your type at all. Maybe that’s why he’s in your head.

You had not been paying attention to the meeting well enough, but when you heard the name ‘Sullivan’, it snapped you out of your daydream. Joel repeated himself, with an edge to his voice now, staring Heather down from across the table, hands twitching on his papers.

“How the hell have we let this guy get away with 3 weeks of unpaid invoices?” he growled. “I am alternatin’ two crews a day on that job of his, I ain’t gonna waste another minute of my time if he can’t be bothered –“ Suddenly, a voice cut him off.

“He is mailing a check today, for the entire balance due on his account.”

The whole room fell silent. You wondered for a moment what the big deal was, why everyone was looking at you like that, until you realized you said those words. You gulped, scared to look at Joel. You felt the heat from his gaze burning a hole in the side of your head. You kept your eyes glued to your fingers, which were fidgeting in your lap. You were fucked. Not only did you do exactly what your co-workers told you not to do, but you interrupted the man who runs the entire company. A man known for bursts of rage that made people cry and quit. You braced yourself, waiting for the worst, but it never came. It felt like an eternity went by without a word spoken, until finally Joel broke the silence.

“That’s great, sweetheart, but unless I got a check in my hand, promises don’t mean shit. There’s no reason this guy should be jerkin' us around, I’m gonna go down to the site today and pull my guys til we got that check.” He turned his attention back to Heather, ready to move onto the next topic.

You still had yet to look up at him until now. Something in you was still hung up on the way Mr. Sullivan sounded on the phone, the story he gave you about his wife broke your heart. The words Debbie said on your first day about ‘this company is not saving lives’ rushed back through your head, and suddenly you felt this switch flip. The company made record profits last month, and this customer was a real human being who needed to be shown some compassion. Maybe you were naïve, but it felt so cruel to just assume everyone who skips out on their bills is a crook. Before you could give it another thought, your eyes shot up and locked onto his.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” you stated firmly, noticing in your peripheral some of your co-workers shifting uncomfortably and exchanging glances. “If you care to know, his wife has been in the hospital for three weeks fighting an infection the doctors can’t seem to fix. He’s got his hands full, he apologized profusely to me this morning and I believe he is sending us that check. If you prefer, I can go down to his office and pick up the check myself.”

A part of you couldn’t believe you said that, and not only that but said it with such resolve, your voice not even faltering. You refused to break eye contact with Joel, no matter how intimidating and uncomfortable it felt. His eyes bored into yours, his jaw clenched, and two of his fingers began to gently tap on the table in front of him. You kept it together and continued to look him dead in the eyes. You felt butterflies in your stomach begin to work their way into a frenzy, and the sweat started to accumulate on the back of your neck. You briefly wished you had worn your hair up so your neck could get more air. Your cheeks started to feel warm under his gaze, but you couldn’t back down now.

Finally, Joel gave his answer.

"Fine. But if we don’t get that check, it’s comin’ out of your paycheck.” He looked away and started asking Heather about more financial reporting, but you had no idea what was said exactly. Your head rushed with blood pounding in your ears. As the adrenaline washed away, you wanted to get up and use the restroom to collect yourself, but you could not give Joel the satisfaction of getting under your skin.

Thankfully, the meeting only went for a few more minutes. Your team gathered their things and quickly exited the conference room. By happenstance, you were the last to file out. You don’t know why, but as you walked through the door, you shot Joel one more glance over your shoulder. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes glued to your retreating form. They no longer looked hardened, but they showed a glimmer of something else, like amusement.

After you left the room, Joel’s eyes remained stuck on the empty doorway. He and Tommy were the only two that remained at the table. Tommy whistled lowly and leaned forward to catch Joel’s attention.

“She’s a sparkplug, wonder who she is, I don’t remember seein' her before,” Tommy said to Joel, who finally tore his eyes away from the doorway and looked at his brother. “Maybe I should find out what her deal is.”

“Her deal?” Joel nearly spit out, anger flaring in his belly.

Your “deal”? Your deal was clear as day to him – the Ken doll next to you marked his territory the first moment he got. The guy who looked like he couldn’t change a tire and probably never raised his voice in his whole life. The guy who likely skated by on looks, and never bothered to focus on a personality. Joel knew the Ken doll worked here for a while, but he couldn’t remember his name. It didn’t matter, anyway. Why was he even thinking about this?

“Yeah, her ‘deal,’” Tommy emphasized the last word for dramatic effect and rolled his eyes. He stood up from his chair. “She’s pretty. And she seems fiery. I like that.”

Tommy lifted his eyes from the papers in his hand to grin at his brother, who was scowling in return.

"What’s the problem? I can’t have a little fun?” he sulked, his grin slowly disappearing.

“No, I don’t think you should be screwin’ our employees, Tommy. You run this company with me, what the hell does that say about us?” Joel stood up and looked him in the eye to show he wasn’t joking.

“Aw, come on, Joel, it doesn't got to mean anythin'. I’ve done it before, it’s never caused a problem.” Tommy’s gaze turned back towards the door you had just left, his thoughts clouded with the last image of you. Joel’s anger began to flare.

"I don’t care, you leave her alone.” he replied. He snatched up his paperwork from the meeting and brushed past Tommy, exiting the room and heading towards his office. Tommy jogged up behind him, as the realization hit.

"Oh shit, you got a thing for her?” Tommy teased, and nudged Joel with his elbow once he caught up. “Why didn’t you just say that? I won’t go near her, give you a decent shot at ropin’ her in,” he laughed, but Joel stopped in his tracks, which caused Tommy to stumble and turn around in surprise.

"I ain’t got a thing for her, I just don’t think you should be screwin’ the women around here. Sets a bad example, is all.” Joel huffed and picked up his pace once more, turning into his office.

The room was massive. It was the biggest office in the building, although Tommy’s was only smaller by about 75 square feet. The office had the greatest view over the hustle and bustle of the city. It had a couple of velvet navy couches off to the corner that were surrounded by a glass coffee table for when he entertained clients or other executives in the company, and a small mini bar in the other corner, which also housed a coffee machine. Joel rounded his desk, which was stationed so it was overlooking the fantastic city view. He sat down in the plush desk chair and looked up to find Tommy standing on the other side, who was clearly not satisfied with the conversation.

“Alright, brother, I’ll let it go. I don’t believe you, but I’ll let it go.” Tommy suppressed a small smile as he turned to leave the office. “Oh, but one more thing,” Tommy stopped in the doorway and waited until he had Joel’s attention again. “She’s definitely got a thing for you. I saw the way she was lookin’ at you, I’m not stupid.” And with that, Tommy exited to return to his own office, satisfied with the impact he made, and left Joel once again staring at an empty doorway.

Joel let a small smile spread across his face now that he was alone, glad he didn’t misread the way he caught you looking at him.

You managed to get back to your desk without saying a word to anyone. The entire elevator car had been dead silent. When you sat down in your chair, you felt like your heart rate had finally returned to normal and your head was feeling less fuzzy. You shook your computer mouse to bring the machine back to life and tapped in your password. ‘Incorrect password’ flashed on the screen, so you tried again. It took three tries for you to slow down enough and enter in the password correctly.

OK, so maybe you were still rattled.

As you waited for your computer to log back in and load all your open programs, you closed your eyes and rested your face in the palms of your hands, elbows resting on the top of your desk.

You jumped when you felt a gentle squeeze on your shoulder and whipped around to find Justin standing next to you with his hands held up in mock surrender.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, just wanted to check and see how you were doing,” he gave a sweet smile and stretched out his hand once again, caressing your shoulder. You sighed, giving a weak smile in return.

"I’m fine,” you said, “I don’t know what got into me, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

It was then that Debbie, who had clearly been waiting for a chance to interrupt, came around the corner.

“Don’t sweat it, girl. That was nothing, you must have caught him on a good day. That was probably the nicest I’ve ever seen him.” She assured you, leaning casually up against your cubical wall. You gave a shaky laugh, which she returned and said “I’m only kind of kidding, though. He was in a good mood, maybe he finally got laid last night.”

Colleen came over after listening to the voicemail she had waiting for her.

"Ha, I doubt it. Nobody’s seen him with anyone for years, not since Amy left him.”

“Who’s Amy?” you asked curiously. You were surprised Colleen never shared this bit of gossip with you before.

“Amy’s his ex-fiancée. They broke up right around the time I started, so I guess that would have been 5 years ago now? Anyway, no one knows what happened, other than it made Joel the guy you saw today. Well, he was pretty tame today, but you know what I mean,” explained Colleen. “He’s been grumpy ever since.”

You all froze when you heard the electronic keypad on the other side of your locked door, indicating someone was entering the department. Colleen and Debbie quickly went back to their respective desks. Justin valiantly stayed by your side, although it was likely he stayed only because his desk was so far away, it would have been obvious he was fleeing by the time the person entered the room.

Heather pushed the door open, immediately made eye contact with you, heading in your direction. She gave you an apologetic smile once she got to the opening of your cube.

"I’m so sorry, I just saw that email from this morning, that was completely my fault, I should have been the one to handle that. How are you doing?”

Relieved she wasn’t mad at you for speaking up, you smiled back, your confidence returning.

"I’m good, really. It wasn’t that bad. I think I just got in my head about it because of the stories I’ve heard, I thought it would be worse.”

“Honestly, it usually is worse. He must have taken a liking to you. I had a voicemail waiting for me when I got back to my desk, he wanted to know who you were. He wasn’t mad, just didn’t recognize you. He wants you let him know personally when that check comes from Mr. Sullivan. I can go with you to his office when the time comes, don’t worry, I won’t throw you to the wolves!” she said with a chuckle.

You could feel the tips of your ears getting hot at the prospect of seeing Joel again so soon. You had thought you would have another month to recover. You nodded in acknowledgement, and with that, Heather bid the department farewell, late for another meeting. Justin looked back down at you once Heather left.

"Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we go camping this weekend? There’s a great spot I like to go to just outside the city, it’s fantastic when you need to clear your head, and the weather is supposed to be perfect. What do you think?”

You figured why not. Camping wasn’t your favorite thing in the world, but it was something to do. Plus, you had to give more attention to this relationship and decide which fork in the road you were going to take.

That weekend, after having a few glasses of wine with the picnic Justin packed for you two, you did the last thing you could think of to summon up any strong feelings for your boyfriend. As Justin sloppily thrusted inside of you while you laid spread out in a field of wildflowers, all you could think of when you closed your eyes was strong, calloused hands gripping the side of your hip and a rough, patchy beard rubbing along your jaw.

Once you returned from the trip, you gently ended things with Justin.

Chapter Three

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autisticlancemcclain · 9 months

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prev chapter

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“I’m not going to fucking dinner with him.”

Hunk balks. “You’re – uh, pardon?”

“I refuse to sit down and do something civil with that jackass,” Lance repeats. “I would genuinely and truly rather swallow glass.”

“You could swallow food,” Hunk points out. “I used to work with the head cook. He’s an oven now, but I have on good authority that he can still make literally anything, and no one makes food like him.”

Choosing to ignore the statement about the cook and the oven, because what the fuck, Lance stands and starts ruffling around the small room he’s taken refuge in. It does indeed look like servant’s quarters, small and homely, but it’s well-made; sturdier than anything Lance has ever been in before. The walls are beautifully smooth plaster, and the floor is polished wood. The bed is creaky from age but in no danger of cracking or falling. The quilt is old, but not too worn, clearly stitched by someone who knows their way around a sewing needle. The entire right-most corner of the room is a window, dark now with either the newly settled night or years of grime, but the craftsmanship of the window and its frame are clearly evident. There’s even a ledge just barely wide enough to sit on at the base of it.

It’s no giant room with a canopy bed and more windows than walls, but…well. Lance was half-convinced he’d be bound in a tower or outcasted to the stables, so he’ll take it.

“Colleen brought that little almond cake thing –”

“Financiers.”

“– with the tea, so I should be fine for the next four days.”

Hunk raises an eyebrow. Or, well, part of the decorative wood top of him moves. Whatever. It looks like an eyebrow, Lance is calling it an eyebrow.

“That was one single tiny cake the size of a child’s fist. And it took you what, a whole day to get here? There’s no possible way you’re not hungry, and you’re certainly not going four days without food.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t hungry. I just said I’m not eating with His Royal Headass.”

For several moments Hunk says nothing, just stares with his eyes narrowed, scrutinizing him. Lance is used to this look, and the long sigh and “what am I going to do with you” that follows it, and as such is entirely unphased, holding eye contact with his hands crossed stubbornly across his chest.

But Hunk doesn’t do that. Instead he opens the doors on his chest, revealing several shelves on one side and a rack on the other, all filled with beautiful, rich fabrics. Lance can’t conceal the sharp inhale of intrigue, and Hunk’s smirk promises it does not go unnoticed.

“Come on,” he cajoles, shimmying a little so the fancy clothes sway. “Even if you don’t like the prince now, you might learn to tolerate him. Besides, you get food and to dress up. Who cares about the company?”

A knock interrupts Lance’s response. A moment later the heavy wooden door pushes open, and Adam pokes his head in, clockhands twitching.

“Dinner is served,” he says pleasantly. Lance notices that his voice is strained.

“I’m good,” Lance says. “Tell Prince Hairball to enjoy himself.”

Hunk makes a strangled noise, and Lance gets the distinct feeling that if he had hands he would be cradling his head in them.

“But – you must – you’re meant to attend,” Adam stammers.

Lance feels kind of bad for putting him on the spot like this, but not bad enough to actually go and force himself to sit through what he knows will either be the most agonizingly awkward meal of his life or a dramatic screamfest, so he shakes his head and turns away.

The door’s gentle click shut follows Adam’s hops out of the room, and then the room descends into silence. Very suddenly, Lance feels the urge to cry again rise up in his throat, but luckily he manages to shove it down, turning to sit by the window instead. The only thing he can see out of the dark glass is his own reflection, but he stares through it, imagining that just outside the window is his town, with its well-loved storefronts and stalls in the square, the overtrodden stone paths, the rolling hills of farmland, and most importantly their crumbling brick house. He imagines that he can hear the creak of the waterpump as the twins gather the jugs of water for the day, the gentle mooing of Kaltenecker in response to Blue and Red’s neighs, the clank of his mother in the kitchen, the grunts of his brothers and father working out in the fields. They’ll all be asleep now, long asleep, but he pretends anyway.

“What?!”

Lance startles at the booming yell that rings through the castle, bouncing and echoing off the stone walls.

“Oh, here we go,” mutters Hunk.

Seconds later, the walls start to shake ever so slightly, accompanied by the sound of pounding footsteps and sharp claws scratching the polished floors. Quieter but no less frantic are the clank and hops of something trying desperately to keep up.

Lance grits his teeth when the stomping finally reaches his door, and a great fist pounds on the wood.

“You were told to come to dinner!” roars a voice.

Lance doesn’t even bother entertaining the demand with an answer.

“Try asking gently,” urges another voice, muffled in a whisper. “Maybe you’ll be surprised.”

“He doesn’t deserve gently.” The words are so low and growly that they’re barely intelligible. “He waltzed into this place with an attitude. Why do I have to be the gentle one?”

A third voice snorts. “Believe me, you won’t be.”

Straining his ears, Lance hears a deep, carefully controlled breath. He can feel Prince Keith’s tension from through the door.

He smirks. The satisfaction of his fuming is more filling than a proper meal, honestly.

“Would you please,” Prince Keith grits out, measured, “come to dinner.”

Lance opens his mouth. Hunk looks at him sharply, a very clear warning, so Lance pauses, rolling his eyes and reevaluating.

“No, thank you,” he says as politely as he can physically manage.

“You’re coming to fucking dinner!” Keith roars. “Come out or I’ll – I’ll break the door down!”

“For fuck’s sake, Keith,” Shiro says sharply. “You’re supposed to live with him for the rest of your life. Can you try to avoid traumatising him?”

“Not traumatised,” Lance calls out helpfully. “Also not coming.”

Keith’s cut off-shout of frustration is, honestly, almost enough to make Lance want to open the door, just to see if his eye is twitching.

"You can't stay in there forever."

"I can, actually."

He can’t remember ever feeling this much pleasure in pissing someone off before. He tends to swallow things down to avoid making things worse for himself, at least until he can slip off with Blue and take his frustrations out with his bow. But there are no real consequences for his smart mouth, here. Sure, Keith will scream and shout and make threats, but Lance has carefully watched the way Shiro and Adam coral him. He’s heard news of every other fiancé leaving after two months. They need someone, for whatever reason, and as things are looking, Lance is their only option, as subpar and bottom-barrel as he may be.

There’s a strangled sound from beyond the door, and Lance imagines the prince with his head in his hands, desperately trying to calm himself down.

“It would give me great pleasure if you would kindly come downstairs and join me for dinner.”

There’s a pause, and then the distinct sound of someone getting smacked in the back of the head.

“...Please.”

Lance pauses, considering.

“No.”

For as much fun as he was having, he still jumps out of his skin when both Keith’s fists pound on the door as he roars again, a louder sound than Lance has ever heard, and gouges his claws through the wood so deeply that Lance can see the shining pointed edge of them.

“Fine!” His claws rip out of the door and there’s a sweeping sound, as if his heavy cloak brushes harshly along the floor as he whips around. “If he doesn’t eat with me, he doesn’t eat at all!”

He stomps off, slamming several things to the floor in his wake, shaking the foundations of the castle with his rage until he gets far enough away that his tantrum finally fades into silence. Lance scowls when he realises his hands are shaking and clenches them into fists, shoving them deeply into his pockets.

"You know, he might not be that bad if you get to know him."

"Fuck that. I don't want to get to know him."

"Maybe if –"

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says harshly upon Hunk’s look.

“I wasn’t going to ask you too,” Hunk says quietly. “I don’t –" He sighs. "I know this can’t be easy.”

Lance feels guilty immediately. “Oh.” Hunk is the only person in his life, besides maybe Veronica if sisters can count, who has called himself his friend, and here Lance is, making life harder for him. Fuck. “Sorry.”

“Sit down, you walking disaster,” Hunk says fondly. “I have literally never seen him get that mad, and I knew him when we were kids. You are talented. Here.” A ball of yarn flies out of one of the drawers on Hunk’s side, nailing Lance in the face.

“Hey!”

Hunk smirks. “Come get the needles or I’ll launch those, too.”

He’s pretty sure Hunk is joking, but on the off chance he isn’t, he rushes to the drawer and grabs the needles himself before sitting back on the bed. He feels all the ugly feelings – the rage, the sick satisfaction, the confusion, the homesickness, the ache – start to melt away with the familiar smoothness of the wooden needles in his hands, the weight of the heavy wool. He has no idea how Hunk has figured out his affinity for the craft – most men don't bother with it, he knows – but he’s grateful regardless.

He falls into the rhythm of the stitches. He has no idea what he’s going to make yet, but right now he just needs to do something familiar. If he hates it, he can just undo the stitches and restart. It’s not like he has anywhere else to be.

Halfway through the skein, his stomach rumbles loud enough to echo through the room. He ignores it, because he made a very stubborn point and he intends to stick to it, but after the sixth time it happens in as many minutes, he concedes to the point that the stubborn point he point may have been, if he considers all possible angles, a poor one.

He clears his throat. “So, uh, you said you had a friend who was an oven?”

Hunk snorts. “Yes, you bullhead. Head down the hallway, turn left twice and right once, it’ll lead you to the staff entrance of the kitchen. Colleen should be attempting to wrangle Katie to bed, but other than that everyone should be available to help you out.”

Quickly setting down his knitting, Lance heads for the door.

“Wait, Lance.” Hunk’s face is very still when Lance turns back to face him, something serious in his eyes. “Don’t veer off from the path I told you, okay?”

“Why?”

“Just – don’t do it, Lance. I don’t want you to end up in the west wing, or things are going to get bad in here.”

If Lance is being entirely honest, he has no desire to deviate from Hunk’s directions. At least he didn’t. If Hunk hadn’t said anything, it probably wouldn’t have even occurred to Lance to go to the west wing anyway. This is the second time he has been warned away from the west wing, now. If Lance was curious before, he’s burning with it now.

But Hunk is his friend, and he’s doing him a favour, so he bites his tongue and nods his head and walks down the way Hunk instructed him too. It helps that he’s ravenous, and is more focused on food than anything.

But he won’t lie and say that he doesn’t have to force himself away from dark hallways and beckoning shadows.

———

next chapter

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morallyinept · 1 month

Text

A full transcribe of JAVIER PEÑA'S dialogue/lines from the TV show NARCOS.

S1/E5 - THERE WILL BE A FUTURE

Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.

FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE:

First thing is that we get you out of Bogotá.

There’s an orphanage in Cumeral. It’s out of the guerrilla zone and away from the narcos.

We get you a passport. From another country, we can depose you about Escobar and the siege.

This is about keeping you alive.

(In Spanish) If Pablo Escobar finds you… he’ll kill you in a heartbeat.

__________________

Well, she’s the only witness we got that can tie Escobar to the palace massacre.

No.

Well, we keep her in hiding until things cool down, and get immunity in exchange for her testimony-

Well, the next time your wife decides to bring home a human hand grenade, how about she hands it to you?

Sleep with a communist? That would be downright un-American.

__________________

We’re almost certain. It was, uh... it was hard to tell. The… connection was bad. They were calling from Panama.

Ambassador, word is Manuel Noriega is providing safe harbour for the narcos, and possibly shipping points for their cocaine.

__________________

(In Spanish) What’s happening, Carillo?

(In Spanish) So, you practice your English with me?

Do your bosses know you’re doing this?

Well, do they have to be from Medellín?

__________________

Well, how about you, uh… clue us in?

Right. Well, good talk, Lou. Very, uh… enlightening.

__________________

You got your nails done. It’s-it’s your colour, Colleen.

It’s simple. I just need your signature… right there.

What I want you to do is sideskip a little bullshit bureaucracy and help someone stay alive. You really think I wouldn’t be asking you if it wasn't important? She’s my informant. And she could be the key to bringing down the whole Medellín cartel, so come on, Colleen, whose side are you on?

__________________

I was driving to the church. Was with my buddy, John. He was my best man. We were late. It was fucking blazing outside, 110 degrees. Whole bridal party was there sweating their balls off, I’m sure. All of a sudden, I stopped the car.

I don’t know if she actually made it to the altar.

Yeah. She forgave me. Eventually. Married a stockbroker from Dallas.

Randy… I think. Trust me, she’s better off.

He’s gonna talk.

(In Spanish) It’s about time, Navegante.

What do you got?

You said you had information. You didn’t say Gacha.

__________________

Could be money. The reward for Gacha is one million US. I’d say that’s pretty good motivation.

It’s worth taking a risk.

That’s a beautiful dress, Ambassador Noonan.

__________________

Here, Elisa’s ID.

Take her to Cumaral. My contact there agreed to hide her.

Brother, what do you suggest we do?

Look, she’s… she's important.

To us.

__________________

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

#pedro pascal #javier pena #javier peña #pedro pascal characters #javier pena narcos #pedro pascal character dialogue #javier pena dialogue

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rorimoon9597 · 5 months

Text

Being on the back of that creature was weird. They'd only been there for about a week, yet Keith had seen his mother's memories. He'd seen the moment his parents had named him, and both of them fawning over him as a baby. It was... oddly sweet to see it, how his mother loved him.

In turn, Krolia saw his memories. Both of the times he'd lost Shiro, how he meet Shiro (Krolia was laughing for a good few minutes at how Keith had stolen Shiro's car) and some of the memories he had of Adam and, perhaps most embarrassingly, Keith ranting about Lance to Adam and Shiro.

So it was fair to say that they were on even footing, really.

And the more time they spent there, the more they saw each other's memories and the more they learnt about each other.

And then there was his wolf. He was stuck on a name for his wolf, so he just called it Wolf for ease.

"What do you think is on the other side?" Keith asked. Krolia hummed in thought.

"I'm not sure, but I hope that we can figure out what the source of the energy is," she replied. Keith sighed.

"What about the source? Any ideas as to what it is?"

"No," came the reply. He groaned and laid back on the ground. Wolf came up and sniffed his face.

Keith was thrown into the future, if the appearance of a hospital room in the Garrison of all places was any indication. Looking to his side, he saw Krolia there, too.

"The girl's cutting off the supply," a voice said. Keith looked behind him and gasped.

There was an incubator of sorts in the room, made of black, white and blue Altean technology. Standing to the side, was him and Lance. Lance, who he knew he liked. Lance who, in this vision of the future, was tucked into future Keith's side, a golden ring standing out against his skin.

"She'll be okay," future him said.

"What is she's not though? Allura said that the incubator won't prevent any illnesses or anything like that from forming in them. They could be born with a heart condition!"

"It's not likely, love." Lance huffed, watching as Colleen Holt and a few other scientists worked together to reach in and pull something out of the incubator.

A baby, covered in slime. A baby girl. As soon as she was able to breathe, she started to wail. Colleen took her and cleaned her off, weighing her and then wrapped her up.

Colleen walked over to them, the child that Keith guessed was his and Lance's daughter, cradled in her arms.

It was Lance who reached out for their daughter. He started to coo to her, calming her down enough. Her cries turned to whimpers in his arms.

"What's her name?" Colleen asked. Future Keith said something, but current him couldn't hear it. Colleen smiled.

"That's a beautiful name for her. Powerful, too."

Keith didn't know how long he stood there for, watching his future self and Lance hold their baby. Then-

"The boy's cutting his supply off now," a doctor said. The same process, then a baby boy was lifted from the incubator. He cried too, but not like his sister, his twin, did. Colleen did the same thing, and it was future Keith who took the boy into his arms.

Current Keith watched as the doctors did tests on the babies, then laid them side by side in a crib.

Krolia's future self chose that moment to enter the room. The doctors and Colleen smiled at her, then left. Krolia just nodded at them before going up and hugging Keith's own future self, as well as Lance. The three of them, as one, turned around to look at the babies.

"They're beautiful," Krolia's future self said.

"They are," Lance agreed.

"What are their names?" Future Keith told her, but the names weren't heard. Krolia smiled.

"Those are wonderful names for them. I have no doubt that they will be strong in the future."

The vision faded, leaving Keith standing there, in shock.

"Keith?" Krolia asked. He looked at her.

"I'm going to be a father," he said. "I'm going to have twins in the future."

"Is that a bad thing?" Krolia asked. Keith shook his head.

"No, it's not. It's... it's wonderful. It's amazing. I- I can't wait to meet them," he said. He could feel the disbelieving smile on his face. Krolia pulled him into a hug. He returned it, laughing. "I'm going to have children with Lance!"

"I'm happy for you, Keith," Krolia told him. Keith buried his face in her shoulder.

"Thank you, Mom," he whispered. It felt natural, and so right. Krolia tensed up, but ended up hugging him tighter.

________

He had more visions of the future on that whale. He saw a glimpse of a boy standing in Black Paladin armor, a girl in Red Paladin armor. Then there was an image of him holding out two knives, identical except for the black wrapping on the grip on one and the red wrapping on the grip of the other.

Mostly it was memories coming to him, though. One of them was of when he was younger, and had asked Shiro and Adam if they ever wanted kids.

"I'd like to adopt," Shiro confessed.

"I don't mind what we do. I think that I just want to be a parent to a child before I die," Adam replied. Keith was curled up into Adam's side, sketchbook open and the beginnings of a drawing of his family on the page.

"Besides, we have you right now, and that's all that we really need," Shiro said.

That particular memory ended with Keith crying as Shiro and Adam held him.

"I need to thank them for all they've done for you when I meet them," Krolia said.

"You don't have to," Keith said.

"No, I do. They took care of you for some time. They gave you a family. I must thank them for helping you, for caring for you when I was unable to," Krolia insisted. Keith nodded, a lump in his throat making it impossible for him to say anything else.

The next time they saw a vision of the future, they were eating some meat that they had hunted with the help of Wolf.

Keith found himself in a market place filled with people who came in all sorts of colours, but dark, and wearing pale robes in comparison. They all wore jewellery made of crystals. Keith noticed that the most simple crystals the older people wore were glowing faintly.

They were following a girl, who had black hair that was tied up in a ponytail. It fell down in gentle curls. Her skin was only slightly lighter than what Lance's skin was, and Keith realised that she was wearing his red jacket. A belt around her waist revealed a knife with a red grip.

She carried a bag on her back, and she walked with a purpose. She was looking for something, but Keith didn't know what it was. She seemed interested in the people around her, listening to people shouting about food and clothes and other merchandise, trying to sell their goods.

"Come and get Soul Crystals here! Perfect gift for married couples and parents!" One of the vendors shouted. The girl stopped, seemed to think of something, then walked to the vendor selling the 'Soul Crystals'.

The booth was covered in those simple crystal necklaces that Keith had seen. None of these ones glowed, though they came in all different kinds of colours. Pink, purple, blue, green, red and many others. The vendor grinned when they saw the girl.

"Well, hello there, traveler! May I interest you in a Soul Crystal for your significant other? Or perhaps as a gift for your parents?"

"What do they do?" The girl asked.

"Well, these are an ancient tradition among our people. They are linked to two people's Quintessence. It allows for couples to feel each other's emotions, as well as acts as a compass of sorts for them, so that they always know where each other are, and how they are feeling."

"Is that why they glow?" The girl asked. The vendor nodded.

"Precisely," they said.

"How much would it be to get a couple for my parents?"

"Fifty VIC," the vendor replied.

"Here," the girl said. She pulled out a wallet and pulled out a note, which Keith noticed upon further inspection was a 100 VIC note. He wondered what VIC stood for.

The vendor took the money.

"Now, just close your eyes, and search for the crystals that match your parents. It's easier for those who have Quintessence sensitivity." The girl closed her eyes. She opened them again.

"Those two, that blue one with white swirls and that red one that has gold in it, those match perfectly," the girl said, pointing at the crystals on basic black strings. Keith's breath hitched.

The blue one she mentioned looked like the ocean, and the red one looked faintly like fire. He turned to get a better look at her, and saw that her eyes were purple, like his own. There were flecks of brown in them.

The vendor packaged the crystals and tied the boxes closed with ribbons.

"I wish your parents a wonderful and fulfilling life, Young One."

The vision ended there. He turned to face Krolia.

"That girl," he said. He couldn't continue the sentence.

That girl was his daughter, the one he saw being born in another vision.

"She's beautiful," Krolia said, apparently either having read his mind, or having come to the same conclusion as Keith.

"She is," he said, a smile on his face.

He knew that his future would be wonderful. He decided, then and there, that he would win this war and survive, so that he could see these visions come to fruition.

#inspired by a fic series I was reading earlier #I forgot what it was called but I'll tell you guys when I remember it #I know that I nearly died of fluff and love and angst tho #voltron #vld #keith kogane #lance mcclain #alternate universe #klance #voltron legendary defender #krolia

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just-late-roman-republic-things · 3 months

Note

Have you ever read the Masters of Rome series by Colleen McCullough?

If so, what are your thoughts on her portrayal of Ceasar? I love the books, but her and Ceasar are basically the:

"I have never done anything wrong ever"

"I know this and I love you"

meme from Parks and Rec

I enjoyed those books! They're flawed, but still have a lot of things I loved. As for Caesar specifically...

He's a very divisive figure, so it doesn't surprise me that her depiction of him is divisive as well. It's not completely positive: she spends a lot of time on the Gallic War without erasing its ugliness, and portrays him as growing steadily more authoritarian afterward. But it's still more sympathetic than in 90% of portrayals, and his death is treated as a tragedy. If you really dislike Caesar, this can potentially break the series for you.

The books are a great example of authorial attachment warping a narrative - what used to be called the Mary Sue problem before misogynists co-opted that phrase. Caesar is not only more competent, important, fleshed-out and handsome(??) than everyone else, he also gets away with a lot of bullshit. And sometimes McCullough changes facts to fit her headcanons, from minor things like making him blond (she loves blonds), to changing when the trial of Rabirius took place to expand Caesar's role in it.

Is this necessarily bad? Well, it's a matter of personal taste. I actually enjoyed his portrayal, and found his misadventures and arrogance entertaining. (Him being a nuisance to the long-suffering Lucullus is practically a running joke.) That's because I tend to like very proactive, clever, morally dubious protagonists like in Death Note, The Godfather, and The Count of Monte Cristo, so McCullough's Caesar got chucked into my lifelong pile of Deeply Problematic Faves.

Some readers just find him obnoxious, or dislike how he mostly takes over the story in books 3-6. That's valid! Even for me it gets a bit much sometimes. Folks who detest him will probably like the Cicero Trilogy or Roma Sub Rosa a lot better.

Also. I tend to be pretty forgiving of authorial bias and inaccuracy in historical fiction, as long as it helps build a strong story, as in Roma soy yo. (And as long as it's not malicious shit like fascist propaganda. Creative works based on hate or fearmongering usually have poor characterization, anyway.) Some readers are much more bothered by these things, and that's also valid. It all depends on what you want and expect out of a book when you read it, y'know?

#just roman asks #solidorange69 #masters of rome #colleen mccullough #julius caesar #jlrrt essays

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implausiblyjosh · 10 months

Text

I made a post a couple days ago about the Quinton Reviews situation. I'm deleting that post.

In that post, I expressed my emotional response and thought process as to why I saw vague posting from Lady Emily and Sarah Z as fucked up, and how it seems like people are vaguely alluding to Quinton being creepy without providing anything other than vibes and a handful of awkward DMs posted publicly on twitter in early 2021. In my mind, here's two people who I have seen with my own eyes have a history of spinning a narrative in bad faith, sometimes in the face of clear contradictory evidence, and one of whom has a negative history with the person in question. Since it was all vague posting, there are no specifics. There was just a pattern of history to go off of, and it looked clearly bad to me. I expressed that sentiment on here, and clarified questions and points people had when the post started getting traction.

Yesterday, Sarah Z saw it and reblogged it to her followers with clarification that her vague post was actually about Colleen Ballinger. Since then, she and others have suggested or demanded that I delete the post because it's misinformation, that I shouldn't have made a call out post for something I didn't have the full picture of, that I should have just asked her what was up, and that I was aiming to make a viral post.

The post was never a call out post. I was, very clearly, expressing frustration at something that was bothering me with public vague posts I was seeing. There was no call to action, I wasn't warning people about anyone, I was simply saying "this shit sucks!" about what I was seeing online. If that's your definition of a call out post... I'm not sure what to tell you.

I also do not really understand the "you should have just asked me" line. Not only because all lines of personal messaging to you were closed off, but why would I try and ask about a vague posting, seemingly vent post, wherein you say it's a red flag to vent to your audience because it leads to bad things. On top of that, I really don't need to reach out for comment, I'm not a journalist. I'm venting frustrations with public vague posts.

I'd also like to say that the angle that I was intentionally trying to make a viral post is silly at best. My initial post had no tags on it, and I cannot control what posts of mine speak to people. I'm also not sure if ~2k notes (at the time Sarah Z brought up the viral angle) is really viral, but I don't think I've ever had a post crack 200 before this weekend. Feel free to correct me on that. Additionally, you reblogged this to your audience instead of messaging me. All my lines of messaging on here are open, and it wouldn't have spread as far if you didn't reblog me.

I do not think my read of the vague posts were out of line. I laid out my reasons to think that Sarah Z is someone who spins a narrative, sometimes in the face of clear contradictory evidence, in her published work. I've also seen a pattern of making digs at him, on top of the posting of the DM from him. I simply do not trust her in this instance, and seeing it all line up just so made it seem like it was a dig at him. And while she's saying that I'm wrong, and that the post wasn't about him, she's still implying he's a creep in that clarifying post. So while she says I'm wrong about the vague post, my "seems like people are calling him a creep based on vibes and awkward DMs" point seemingly still stands.

At the end of the day, I wanted to vent on here about something that was bugging me. I didn't wanna dance around my specific points, so I was specific in what bothered me. I do not think I was as clear as I could have been in what my specific issues were, and for that I'm sorry. If/When I make criticisms in the future I will be sure to be as clear as I possibly can be.

The post is now gone, and I'll leave this pinned on my account for awhile.

#josh average talks

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just-antithings · 10 months

Note

I'm not saying adults insisting they only need to read YA books and watch children's cartoons is leading to this culture wide phobia of sex which in turn is becoming a useful vector for the increasing spread of fascism except that is exactly what I'm saying.

Im not that anon but want to expand on their thought, if they're saying what I think they are.

I thought of this more when seeing an old post of someone saying their English teacher should have let them write a report on Divergent instead making them read 1984. Someone commented supporting the OP, saying that they never read Divergent, but 1984 is problematic. Iirc, the commenter referred to Winston (I think that's the protag in 1984; sorry I haven't reread it in years) as a creep. I can't remember is this specific commenter called Winston a misogynist, but that's a common complaint I hear when people say they don't like 1984.

The screenshot of that post also had other screenshots, including the twt posts of YA authors saying that the classics were problematic. It's a sentiment I keep seeing around book twt before I deactivated my account but still on booktube as well, and it's always booktubers who also read and rant about Colleen Hoover, because they know her name gets clicks. Or booktubers that do those videos titled "I read [old/popular/controversial] series so you don't have to".

Sorry, sliding off topic a bit. Going back to what anon said, YA books tend to be more sanitized. They're supposed to be written for a 15-19 audience, so sex and gore aren't supposed to be explicit. There are YA books with sex scenes. 2 I read recently have sex scenes, but they aren't explicit. One uses mostly poetic language and infers to what's happening, and the other essentially fades to black after they get into bed, as they're touching and then picks up the next morning. (One of these YA books had a big controversy on booktube a few years ago for being problematic, though. Gee, wonder why /s)

But for the most part, often for people who enjoy urban fantasy or romances but not steamy scenes, they may go for YA, since it's usually more "PG". Unfortunately, some people get it in their head that this makes YA inherently "better", that adult books that are being more explicit are only doing it to get more sales, when YA tbh has a tighter hold on it marketing-wise.

Okay, I'm not published (yet), but I've been studying it when I need to take a break from writing to see what course is best for me and what I want to write. YA is becoming oversaturated in the market, so it's not as big a "money making genre" for debut authors as it might have been once (and I'd argue that even in the past when YA was smaller, you still had to be lucky, known, or connected to get that 6-figure check for a debut YA novel). YA is more likely to get scrutinized, considering its supposed to he for a younger audience, so a YA author wanting to push boundaries is going to receive more push-back than an adult lit author.

Now pushback happens in adult lit, too, like Ava Reid saying her editor or publisher (I forget who) told her that Juniper&Thorn might be too dark. (I've read it. Yes, it's dark, but bad reviews I saw for the book blew it way out of proportion. If you (gen) like lyrical/poetic narration and gothic horror, I highly suggest it).

But it feels like there's more of a push to keep YA books "clean". You can find some outliers, but like the YA I mentioned above, those outliers in YA that push boundaries can get wrapped in controversy and called problematic.

And for whatever reason, some people on booktube say this is a good thing and say "think of the children!"

They will say censorship is bad but then advocate for sanitized YA to be read instead of classics, because the classics are "bad" and "teach bad things" and "should be left in the past". They advocate for censorship without realizing they are advocating for censorship. It's exhausting, and as someone who wants to be published and does enjoy a lot of YA, it makes me feel discouraged. I don't think I'm "pushing boundaries" at all in my writing or saying anything new, but I'm very sure it's not sanitized enough for most publishers, especially if I wanted to try for one of the beg houses in the US.

Tl;dr One of the major problems in this anti-intellectualism is capitalism.

#mod erin #ask #posted without comment #fascism mention

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cherries-in-wine · 1 month

Text

My thoughts on Colleen Hoover:

okay hear me out: colleen hoover is for the people who skipped their fan fiction phase.

Hi just a warning this contains spoilers for colleen hoover books and English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes. These are just me sharing my thoughts feel free to disagree just please don't be mean about it.

So I read a few of her books because I love torturing myself and just wanted to feel something (also my cousin was obsessed with her) and honestly I don't regret it because now I have valid reason shit on it.

Just fyi I'm a teenage girl in high school so I'm definitely in her target audience, and here's what I've gathered:

None of her main characters really have a personality. they feel more like shells that the reader can self insert themselves into. The books aren't really about two people getting to know each other and falling in love it feels more as a bunch of tropes and generic scenarios thrown together. I think this is one of the reason booktok girlies act with Colleen Hoover the way I did when I found out fanfics exists.

It also just reads like fanfiction? like because there's not much to dwell on and they're so easy to digest you can finish them in just a few hours. plus the main characters just feels like y/n: a shell to self insert yourself into, dead/abusive father, just normal girl who finds herself in these situations etc.

Here's the thing about fan fiction though: the reason why it's so fun to read is because you already know the people/characters in it so you can get right into the scenarios and imagines because they don't really need any background or development.

But the difference is when you write these books you have to develop these characters and introduce them to the readers otherwise I'm just like "I don't even know these people so why the fuck would I care?"

Comparing her to fanfic is honestly an insult to fanfic writers because at least they have the decency to tag their posts properly (calling the abuse, abuse dark themes, dark themes etc) plus they're just so much better.

Colleen Hoover fans will say that she brings up difficult topics in her books in order to defend her but here's the thing: writing about difficult topics doesn't exactly exempt you from criticism + she doesn't even write about them?? they just feel like lazy add ons to spice up the story and add some drama. if you're gonna write about difficult topics you need to discuss and write them properly not just use them to further the plot.

I don't like any of the love interests either. 99% of them are just abusive, piece of shit bland boiled chicken ass people with the unsexiest names I've ever heard of.

Also a lot of these have very much women hating women undertones? I feel like it's the author's misogyny being reflected in her books (extra heart breaking coming from a woman herself). It's very much "you're not like the other girls you're different" kinda themes.

I thought maybe people just enjoyed it because of the smut but the smut is SO BAD oh my god I wanted to kms.

My thoughts are a little all over the place right now (they always are) but maybe i'll update if I remember any more points

thank you so much for reading mwah <33

#colleen hoover #bookstagram #books and reading #booktok #bookblr #anti coho #anti colleen hoover #aditi rants

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livelaughwhump · 9 months

Text

Worthless - Part 18

Masterlist | Previous

Content: strong language, brief mention of past captivity, brief mention of past abuse, brief mention of past noncon, self-hatred, self-deprecation, former pet whumpee

If I forgot any content warnings, please let me know

Landon woke up to the sound of his text tone. It was a sharp ringing sound directly beside his ear, and it made him jerk in surprise and sit straight up. After a few seconds of catching his breath and gathering his bearings, Landon grumbled and lay back down in order to go back to sleep.

Then, he heard the sound again. And again. And one more time, for good measure. Landon groaned and turned onto his side to peer at his phone screen. His eyes were watering as he gazed at the bright screen. The digital clock read 12:42, but Landon hardly paid it any mind. He would've slept much longer if he'd been given the chance.

The text messages were all from the same sender, his little sister, Colleen. Seeing this, Landon's heart rate skyrocketed. It wasn't like the two didn't speak often, but it wasn't like Colleen to send more than one text at a time, unless it was important. Landon just hoped it wasn't about what he suspected it was.

However, as Landon read the texts, the anxiety in his stomach calmed, but only for a moment.

Hey, L! Remember that time you promised to introduce me to your mysterious team? Well, that was over a year ago. Soooo, I've taken the initiative, and I'm on my way over. See you in half an hour!

The next couple texts read,

You better not still be sleeping

I swear to God, Landon, if you're asleep by the time I get there, I'm gonna lose my shit

Landon Jackson Copeland!!!

Landon's stomach dropped. He had intended for Colleen to meet his friends so long ago, but that was before Elliot had been kidnapped. Since then, she'd asked more times than he could count, but he'd had to turn her down every time. Only a few weeks after Elliot had been rescued was not at all a good time to introduce his sister.

Landon quickly sat up, cursing under his breath. "Shit, shit, shit." He clicked on Colleen's name and held the phone to his ear.

She answered on the first ring.

"Good, you're not asleep," she giggled.

Landon wasn't laughing. "Coll, listen to me, now is really not a good time."

"Because of your so-called 'emergency'? It's been over a year, Landon!"

"Because it's really bad! A member of our team is going through something really serious right now, and he can't have any distractions. I'm begging you to go back home. Now is a really bad time."

"It's too late, Landon," Colleen said. "I'm not driving two and a half hours back home when I'm twenty minutes away from you."

Landon dragged a hand down the side of his face. "Colleen, I'm serious."

"So am I. I haven't seen you in over a year. Sure, we talk every day, but it's not the same. You need to be with your family as much as I do. I'm sure your team will understand."

Landon scrambled to his feet and began slipping on a pair of pants that had been discarded on the floor. He kept his phone wedged between his cheek and shoulder to keep it close to his ear. "Can't you do this one thing for me, as my little sister?"

Even though he couldn't see her, Landon could tell she was rolling her eyes. "Come on, Landon. How bad could this 'emergency' possibly be?"

Landon quickly put her on speaker as he slipped a red t-shirt over his red. "Bad enough to last more than a year."

"Well, I can't wait to hear all about it when I get there. See you soon, bye!"

"Colleen...!" She had already hung up.

Landon was panicking. To say that Elliot was doing better wasn't untrue, but he was nowhere near ready to interact with people outside of the team yet. How was Landon supposed to explain to everyone that his stubborn little sister was on her way over? What would Lyra and Karine say about it? Surely, they were going to blame him. What other possibility was there?

After pulling on a pair of socks and shoes, Landon burst from his room in search of the rest of the team.

Elliot was curled up on the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket, with his new art kit open on the coffee table in front of him. He'd hardly put it down since Lyra had gifted it to him, and it seemed to improve his mood exponentially. At the very least, it gave him something to focus on, and something to distract him from the panicked discussions the rest of the team had been having about the pictures they'd received from Elliot's kidnapper.

Lyra was sat beside Elliot, fast asleep and snoring loudly. Broderick was playing some kind of video game, and Karine was writing something in a notebook on her lap. A delicious smell wafted in from the kitchen, so Landon could only assume that Yvonne was in the process of making lunch.

Landon's loud footsteps alerted Karine and Broderick, who looked up from their activities in order to meet his gaze. Karine smirked. "'Bout time you woke up. I was starting to think you had somehow drunk yourself into an early grave." Broderick chuckled, but Landon still wasn't laughing.

Landon rolled his eyes. "Funny. Anyway, Karine, I need to talk to you. We have a...situation."

This seemed to strike Karine. Her amused smile disappeared, she hopped up from her chair, and approached him. "How serious?" she asked as she grabbed him by the arm and steered him into the hallway, out of earshot.

"I'm not sure," Landon said. "Remember my sister, Colleen?"

Karine wore a mask of suspicion. "Yes?"

"Well...she's on her way over."

Karine's eyes nearly popped out of her skull. "What?" she exclaimed.

"I'm sorry. There was nothing I could do! She's been trying to get me to introduce her to the team since I joined!"

Karine glanced in the direction of the living room and lowered her voice, "Landon, Elliot is not ready to meet a stranger, least of all someone related to you."

Landon rolled his eyes. "Cool it with the insults, would you? This is serious. There's nothing I can do. I tried calling her, but she's already driven two and a half hours to come here, and she refuses to turn back now."

Karine sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "How far away is she?"

"About twenty minutes."

Karine threw her hands into the air in exasperation. "Fucking hell. All right, we'll have to warn the team and figure out what to do about Elliot. When she gets here, you're going to meet her at the door and try one more time to see if she'll change her mind."

Landon pursed his lips. "Whatever you say, but I wouldn't put much faith into that plan."

Karine glared at him. "I'm just trying to cover all our bases here, Landon. Let me think, and feel free to chip in, if you feel like being useful for once."

Landon rolled his eyes. "Would it help if Elliot stayed in his room the whole time? Lyra could stay with him."

Karine shook her head. "We can't confine him to his room. He'll think we're hiding him because we're ashamed of him." Karine dragged both of her hands down her face. "How long is she planning to stay?"

"I'm not sure," Landon admitted. "I didn't ask."

Karine sighed in exasperation. "Great," she mumbled. "In that case, we'll warn the team, see how Elliot feels, and then figure out what to do once she gets here."

Landon nodded. "Okay. I assume you want me to tell the team?"

Karine shrugged. "She is your sister."

Landon rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He rounded the corner and entered the living room. During his conversation with Karine, Yvonne had joined the rest of the team and Lyra had woken up. Now, Elliot was in the middle of hiding his drawing from Lyra's eyes, while Broderick was explaining the game he was playing to Yvonne. Landon sighed. "Guys?" All eyes turned to him. Elliot yelped in surprise and curled up to Lyra, but quickly relaxed when his mind caught up with the situation. "We, uh, we have a situation."

Lyra's eyes narrowed. "What kind of situation?" They asked.

"It's not a really serious one. It's just, um...my sister is on her way over."

Elliot's face went white. Lyra's grip tightened around him and they whispered reassuring words into his ears.

Karine appeared behind Landon with her arms crossed over her chest. "We've probably got about fifteen minutes before she gets here."

Elliot's breathing ceased and Lyra gently rubbed his back. Guilt swelled in Landon's stomach as he watched Elliot dissolve into a mini panic attack. His shoulders were shaking and tears started to fill his eyes. The sight was heartbreaking. Luckily, Lyra was able to guide him out of it pretty quickly.

"You're okay," Lyra whispered. "There's nothing to be afraid of. You didn't do anything wrong. Just breathe."

Elliot followed Lyra's breathing until he started to calm down, but he didn't look any less panicked. "I'm s-sorry," he mumbled. Lyra tried to reassure him, but it didn't seem like he believed any of it.

Broderick look at Landon and gestured to Elliot. "Are you sure that's a good idea, given the circumstances?"

Landon shook his head. "I couldn't change her mind. Karine just wanted me to warn everyone and to see how Elliot feels about it."

All eyes turned to the shaking boy on the couch, who flinched under the weight of their gazes. Lyra hugged him close and glared at Landon. "How do you think he feels about it?"

Karine approached Elliot and kneeled in front of the couch. "What would you like to do, Elliot? You don't have to meet her if you don't want to."

. . .

Elliot's mind was racing. He'd almost forgotten that people existed outside of the safehouse. The safehouse was just as the name implied; it was safe. It was warm and comforting and predictable. Nothing ever changed. Elliot knew everyone that lived there and they knew him. How was he supposed to deal with a stranger coming in? What would they think of him?

It took him several moments to realize he'd been asked a question.

Elliot sniffled. "I-I will d-do as I'm t-told."

Apparently, that was the wrong answer. Karine sighed and the expression she wore was unsatisfied. "Would it help if I gave you some options?"

Elliot didn't know the answer to that. He looked at Landon. "I-I will d-do whatever L-Landon w-wants me to. If-If he wants me to-to meet his-his sister, then-then I will. If he w-wants me to-to leave, then..." He turned his sad eyes down to his lap. "Then I'll leave. I-I understand if-if you're embarrassed by me."

Landon frantically shook his head. "I'm not embarrassed by you. I'd love for you to meet Colleen, but only if you're comfortable with it. She can be very stubborn and brutally honest, but she means well."

Karine scoffed. "Sounds familiar," she mumbled.

Landon ignored her. "I don't want to make you do anything you're not comfortable with."

Elliot was conflicted. He wanted to make Landon happy, but he just didn't know if he was ready. "Do-Do you think she'd like me?" He mumbled.

"She'd love you!" Landon exclaimed. "Believe me, you have nothing to worry about. But if you're not comfortable with it, you don't have to meet her. It's totally up to you."

Elliot nervously picked at the skin around his nails. "I-I wanna try."

Lyra rubbed his back. "Are you sure, sunshine? You don't have to."

Elliot nodded. "I w-wanna try," he repeated.

Karine smiled. "That's very brave of you, Elliot. And if you get too overwhelmed, I'm sure Lyra would be happy to stay with you in your room. Right, Lye?"

Lyra nodded. "Of course. I'm very proud of you for trying, but I don't want you to force yourself. I'll help you out of there the second you get uncomfortable, okay?"

Elliot nodded again. "O-Okay. Th-Thank you, L-Lyra."

Lyra smiled and gently combed his hair with her fingers. "Anytime, sunshine."

The room froze when the sound of knocking filled the air. Elliot's face went white and Lyra wrapped their arms around him.

Karine looked at Landon and nodded in the direction of the door. "You know what to do."

Landon rolled his eyes and approached the door. "This isn't gonna work."

"Just try," Karine urged.

Landon sighed and pulled the front door open.

. . .

Seeing his little sister on the other side of the door was bittersweet for Landon. It had been almost two years since he'd seen her, but there was also the matter of Elliot. Still, it was nice to see her smiling face again.

Colleen was grinning from ear to ear, her bright green eyes shining with joy. "Landon!" She exclaimed as she practically tackled her brother in a massive hug.

Landon grunted and stumbled backwards, laughing. "Uh, hey, Coll." He glanced back into the living room. Elliot was still lightly wrapped in Lyra's arms. "Can we talk outside for a minute?"

Colleen let go of him and gave him a skeptical look. "Okay?"

Landon led her onto the porch and sighed as he closed the door behind them. He looked over at her with a tired expression.

Colleen raised a brow. "You okay, L?" Landon didn't know how to answer that.

Landon sighed again and gave a small smile. "It's nice to see you, Colleen."

Colleen's smile returned and she wrapped him in another hug, which nearly cut off his air supply. "God, it's been forever. How are you? What's been going on? Tell me everything!"

"Later," Landon said as he released her from the hug. He shoved his hands into the front pocket of his jeans and smiled. "So, how are the kids? Or, I guess I should ask, where are the kids?" Landon chuckled.

Colleen smiled. "They're great. They're staying with Andrey this weekend while I work to get the divorce finalized. I just got back from grabbing the paperwork, and we decided that we'll sign it together when I pick up the kids on Monday."

Landon raised an eyebrow. "Damn, well...I wasn't gonna ask about that, but I'm glad its going well, I guess. How are the kids taking it?"

Colleen sighed, but her smile didn't falter. "A lot better than I expected, to be honest. Jamari was a little upset at first, but Kiernan was very brave and helped to calm him down quickly. Once we explained it to them, they both understood and they're doing a lot better now."

Landon smiled. "Damn, Kier is more mature than I was at age seven."

Colleen laughed. "She's more mature than you are now."

Landon rolled his eyes. "I guess that's fair. Um..." He needed to try to do as Karine had asked, but the thought was too daunting. No matter how he phrased it, there was no way Colleen was going to take it well.

Colleen nodded. "Yeah?"

Landon didn't know how to say it. It was so nice talking to his sister face-to-face and he didnt want to ruin it by trying to kick her out. He sighed again. "I'm sorry, but...you shouldn't be here, Colleen."

Colleen's smile died. "What?"

Landon shook his head. "I wish I could explain it to you, but..."

"Well, you're gonna have to," Colleen exclaimed, folding her arms over her chest. "I just drove three hours to get here, Landon. I'm not leaving now, especially not without an explanation."

Landon dragged a hand down the side of his face. He didn't know what to say. "Look, I want you here. I really do, but something really bad happened to the team, and we're in a bit of a recovery period. That's all I can say."

Colleen shook her head. "That's not good enough. Why don't you want me here?"

"I do!" Landon exclaimed. "But things are complicated."

"Complicated how?" She asked. Landon didn't know what to say. "You can trust me, Landon. Whatever it is, I can help."

"No, you can't, and that's the problem. None of us can. This is something that just takes time, and you being here won't make it any easier," Landon said.

Colleen didn't say anything to that. After spending a few long moments staring at him as he paced the porch, Colleen released a heavy sigh. "Landon, please. I'm your sister. You've been with me through my rough times, of which there have been many." Landon looked up at her. "So, let me be here for you. I promise, I can help if you'll just let me. Just tell me what's going on."

Landon's shoulders heaved when he exhaled. "Fine," he said. "One of our team members was kidnapped last year." Colleen gasped, but Landon didn't look at her. "He was tortured and dehumanized and...and sexually abused." Landon took a moment to breathe. It was never easy recounting what had happened to Elliot. "When we rescued him, he was nothing like the person we remembered. He was quiet and frightened and-and so, so skinny. He would only move around by crawling across the floor like a dog, and-and he wouldn't eat." Landon had to try hard not to cry. "He's only been back for a few weeks, and-and we've only just gotten him to start eating again. That's why I didn't think it was a good idea for you to come. He hasn't interacted with anyone outside of this house since we rescued him."

Colleen was awestruck. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was agape. Of all the things Landon could've said, she clearly wasn't expecting that. Landon pursed his lips and shrugged. "Any questions?"

Colleen glanced at the door behind Landon before fixing her gaze back on her brother. "What's his name?"

"Elliot," Landon answered. "He's twenty-two."

Colleen nodded. "I remember you telling me about him when you first joined; how you thought he was a kid at first." Landon nodded, smiling slightly at the memory. "You told me how funny and loud he was. You said he was the human equivalent of a ray of sunshine." Landon's expression turned sad once more. He nodded again. Colleen was silent for a moment. She scratched the back of her head, completely unsure of what to do. "Does he know I'm here?"

Landon nodded. "I told everyone just before you showed up. I wanted to know his thoughts on it and what he wanted to do about it."

"And?"

Landon shrugged. "He wanted to try to meet you; even though I told him that he didn't have to."

Colleen clamped a hand over her forehead and sighed. "Oh god," she mumbled. "Maybe you're right. Maybe it wasn't a good idea for me to come here."

Landon nodded. "Would've saved you a long drive and a lot of trouble if you had just listened to me when I told you we had an emergency."

Colleen ignored him. "Does his family know?"

Landon's face fell. "We are his family."

Colleen nodded. "No, I know, but I mean like his parents and siblings, if he has any. Do they know?"

Landon sighed and rubbed at the growing headache behind his eyes. "Colleen, this team, the five of us, we are his family. We're all he has."

Colleen's eyes widened. "That's so awful. That poor boy." She covered her mouth with her hand as tears flooded her eyes. "But-But maybe that's how I can help. I'm a mom; I'm naturally nurturing."

"Coll-"

"How am I supposed to leave now, knowing what all of you are dealing with? I can help."

"By doing what?"

"I don't know yet, but I want to help." Landon was silent. "Please, Landon."

Landon sighed in defeat. "Fine. Come inside and we can talk to the team about it, okay?"

Colleen's wide smile returned. "Okay."

As Landon pushed the door open, he wasn't surprised to see Karine's disappointed expression. He shrugged and looked at her in a way that said I tried.

Karine's face quickly shifted into a welcoming smile, but anyone that knew her could tell that it was forced. She, along with most of the team, approached the door to greet Colleen, but Lyra remained on the couch with Elliot. They whispered something into his ear, to which he responded by shaking his head.

Colleen smiled as she stepped through the door. Landon couldn't help but glance between his sister and the top of Elliot's head over the back of the couch. The rest of him was buried in Lyra's arms.

Karine stepped forward and held out a hand to Colleen. "You must be Landon's sister. I'm Karine."

Colleen quickly shook her hand. "Colleen. It's very nice to meet you." She giggled. "It's also a long time coming."

Karine nodded. "Agreed, but we've had a bit of a situation we've been dealing with for a while. I'm sure Landon's mentioned it to you."

Colleen nodded. "He told me all about it."

Karine glanced at Landon with an unreadable expression before she gestured to Broderick and Yvonne. "This is Yvonne and Broderick, our researcher and medic."

Colleen shook each of their hands with a large grin on her face. "It's nice to meet both of you."

Yvonne smiled back. "You as well. We've heard a lot about you. It's incredible how close you and Landon are."

Colleen nodded. "We've always been close. I had some tough times growing up, but he was always there for me." She glanced at Landon and gently nudged him with her elbow. "I couldn't ask for a better big brother."

Landon rolled his eyes. "Oh please. Don't compliment me. It doesn't sound right coming out of your mouth." Both Landon and Colleen laughed.

. . .

Elliot listened to Landon introduce his sister to the team. As much as he wanted to join them, to do what Landon wanted him to, he couldn't move.

Lyra rocked him back and forth and whispered, "You don't have to do this. We can always hide out in your room or mine, if you want. Don't push yourself."

Elliot shook his head. "I-I can d-do it," he whispered. "I can b-be good."

Lyra smiled sadly. "Okay, sunshine. Would you like me to go with you?" Elliot nodded without hesitation. Lyra gently rubbed his back. "Okay. Don't worry, I've got you."

Lyra helped both of them off of the couch and started to lead Elliot toward the group by the door. The movement caught their attention and Elliot felt the weight of everyone's eyes bore into him. He whimpered quietly as Lyra squeezed his hand.

Lyra smiled as they reached the door. They stuck their hand out and said, "I'm Lyra, the team caretaker. I've heard a lot about you."

Landon's sister gently shook Lyra's hand and said, "I'm Colleen. It's so nice to meet you." She glanced down at Elliot, who was still protectively wrapped in Lyra's embrace. "And you must be Elliot," she said. "I'm Colleen." The woman quickly stuck her hand out for Elliot to take. He didn't take it, though. Instead, he flinched away and clung to Lyra desperately.

Colleen's smile disappeared and she quickly retracted her hand. "Oh, I'm so sorry, honey. I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to shake your hand. Landon's told me a lot about you."

Elliot didn't know what that meant. What had Landon told her?

Elliot squeaked and buried his face in Lyra's shoulder.

Colleen frowned. "All good things, I promise. He's very proud of you."

Elliot glanced up at her when she said that. Actually looking at her face was odd. She looked very similar to Landon, but with more feminine features. She had long blonde hair and kind green eyes. She wasn't as tall as Landon, but Elliot could tell she was taller than anyone else on the team. She wore a sweet smile and the tension in Elliot's shoulders started to relax, slightly.

Elliot's mouth was bone-dry, but he forced himself to speak, "H-Hello." It was barely more than a squeak, but Colleen's smile grew when he said it.

"Hello, dear. It's very nice to meet you."

"N-Nice to m-meet you t-too," Elliot forced out. Lyra rubbed his arm encouragingly. He felt pathetic. The old him had no trouble talking to strangers.

Pathetic. This is why stupid dogs shouldn't try to act human. All you're doing is reminding everyone how utterly useless you are.

Colleen glanced at Landon, who's face was a mask of sadness and pity. Elliot wondered what he'd done wrong. He thought he was being polite, but maybe Colleen was put off by how clearly broken he was. Elliot's eyes grew misty, but he forced himself to push back the urge to cry.

Go on and cry, you fucking mutt. It's what they've come to expect from you. It's the only thing you're good at. Show them how pathetic you are.

Elliot squeaked as he fought to hold back the flood of tears threatening to overcome him. His face grew red-hot as the weight of everyone's eyes fell upon him.

"Everything okay, hun?" Colleen asked, genuine concern painting her words.

Lyra rubbed Elliot's back and shoulder. "Are you okay, sunshine? Do you need to step out?"

Elliot couldn't bring himself to speak. He desperately tried to hold back the tears that threatened to push him over the edge. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just talk to Colleen like any normal human? Why couldn't he do anything he was told?

Colleen leaned over a bit so her face was level with Elliot's. "If you need some time alone, hun, that's totally okay. I completely understand. Please don't push yourself."

Lyra squeezed Elliot's shoulder. "Come on, sunshine. Let's get you to your room."

Elliot wanted to argue. He wanted to say that he could do as he was told, that he could be good, but it was too hard. He did need some time alone, but he didn't want to displease anyone. So, he simply nodded and let Lyra gently guide him to his room with a hand on his back.

Colleen Copeland has finally made an appearance! I've been looking forward to adding her in for so long and I'm so excited that she's finally been introduced! I thoroughly enjoyed writing this chapter and I hope you like my newest character! (I will be adding her backstory onto the character backstory link on the masterlist)

Taglist:

@l-antre-des-merveilles @pigeonwhumps @nicolepascaline @burningkittypoet @whumpinggrounds @suffering-and-misery @make-them-scream-blog @honeycollectswhump @rabass @whumpdreamz @clairelsonao3 @rosewriteswhump @cepheusgalaxy @pinkraindropsfell @mj-or-say10 @considerablecolors @whatamidoingherehelpme

If anyone wants to be added to or removed from the taglist, please let me know!😊

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kidge-planet · 1 month

Text

KIDGE ANGST

TW! death

50 years had passed. It had been 50 years since they shared their first kiss, and they had never left each other's sides.

During those 50 years, their love had only grown stronger with each passing day.

Now, she was 70.

As she lay in her bed next to her husband, Katie felt a strange sensation. Both she and her husband had been worried lately; she had been feeling weak and breathless for almost a month now, and doctors couldn't find anything wrong.

She took a deep breath and rested her head against her pillow. Keith knew exactly how she felt. He knew her so well that just one look in her eyes was enough to tell that something was wrong.

But he also knew that if he asked, she would simply answer that she was fine. So, he asked, and as expected, she said that she was okay. He insisted, and so did she.

Deciding to give up, knowing how stubborn she was but also trusting that she would confide in him later if something was truly wrong, he kissed her forehead as they wished each other a good night.

As he closed his eyes, Keith instantly fell asleep. But no matter how much she tried, Pidge couldn't.

As she grew older, it became harder for Pidge to fall asleep at night. She and Keith had lost everyone:

The first to go was Baebae, Pidge's dog. It had been complicated for her, but she stayed strong.

Then came Sam. It was years after Baebae, and it was possibly the worst day of her life by that time.

Sam was followed by Colleen, who couldn't bear losing her husband for the second time. She was an old woman who had been through so much, but her heart could not handle more. She died, drowning in sadness, and no matter how much Matt and Pidge did to save her, it wasn't enough...

After Colleen, Shiro followed. It devastated everyone, especially Keith. But with Pidge by his side, he healed faster.

Hunk died years later. A heart attack was the reason...

The only ones remaining in their lives were Lance, Matt, Krolia, Kosmo, and their kids. Some other people remained, but they were less important in their lives.

And all this kept Pidge awake at night. She remembered the old times, hurting herself by allowing her thoughts to dwell on all the happy moments. And then, she remembered that it was over, that she would never again be hugged by her father or laugh with her mother... That she would never get to hug Baebae to sleep or have nice Paladin hangouts with her friends... And, of course, she would never gossip with Allura again.

She missed Hunk's cookies and his presence when she was feeling down. She missed Shiro's advice and how reassuring he was.

She just wanted to go back in time, start everything over, and reclaim the beauty that she thought she had lost.

And she was happy with Keith. She always had been, and she felt so grateful that he was still by her side today... But she missed how they used to love each other back then, those nights when they wouldn't sleep and would share every piece of passion. She missed discovering his touch, his body; it all felt new back then, and now, it just seemed routine. She knew his touch by heart... And not that she thought it was bad, but she did think that it was better before... Because everything seemed better when they were younger.

She used to fight for peace, she used to be a model for so many people and have an important purpose. Today, she felt worthless. Just an old lady. A grandma, certainly, but then what was next?

Death. And she would feel guilty admitting that she actually waited for it every day now.

She knew that she would leave her kids behind, along with her remaining friends, her brother, and her husband.

But her kids were grown adults now, with their own families and lives that she wished she could still have. They didn't need her anymore...

As for her friends, she only really had Lance and a few acquaintances. But she rarely saw them, if ever. She called Lance often, but that was about it.

She saw Matt often. Same old Matt. And when thoughts of ending her life crossed her mind, she tried to push them away, knowing that she was his only family left.

And then there was her husband. How she loved him. He was the only reason she hadn't tried to end it herself. The only thing tormenting her now was deciding whether she wanted him to die before her or after her... Whether she would hurt him or herself.

She didn't really have a choice.

Lost in thought, her eyes closed, and she felt her body's weight growing heavier with each passing second. She understood. Summoning all her strength, she opened her eyes one last time to look at him. The only man who had ever loved her, the only man she had ever loved.

Oh, how beautiful he looked in the moonlight, she thought to herself, finding the strength to reach for his cheek...

She caressed his cheek, feeling her hand grow too heavy, and she rested it in his.

If only she could tell him how much she loved him... But she didn't want to see him cry. She didn't want him to take her to the hospital or try to "save" her.

She wanted to silently pass away in the bed where they had shared their love for years. In the room where they had once been young together. In peace.

A tear rolled down her face: she was feeling greatful in this moment to have had such a beautiful life.

And she silently hoped that she'll find him again, in another life.

(there you go and I hope this made you feel the emotional turmoil you wanted lol :') )

Let me know your thoughts about that one!!!!!!!

#voltron pidge #voltron legendary defender #kidge #voltron #keith voltron #pidge #keith #voltron kidge #pidge and keith #keith and pidge #angst #I cried #asks #fic #one shot

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