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tightjeansjavi · 4 months

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Slow Hands | Chapter 10

“the lone moose”

A/N: disclaimer before we get into this chapter, this is a very emotionally/mentally heavy chapter that might not be suitable for everyone. The main topic of this chapter and the next is focused around Joel’s attempted suicide and Tommy’s C-PTSD. This content maybe triggering for some, and if that is the case, please do not read if you feel triggered. Warnings will be marked appropriately. Take care of yourselves first. And as always, a huge thanks to my beta @angelofsmalldeath-codeine 🤍

~word count: 6.9k~

Summary: the wolves of Jackson are lurking

Pairing | Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: !DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! thoughts of suicide, semi-graphic depictions of attempted suicide, brief moment of stigmatizing suicide (Tommy’s reaction) canon-typical violence, graphic depiction of an injury, semi-graphic depictions of childloss (and the trauma that comes with it) angst, grief, guilt, anxiety, heavy topics, anger, overwhelming emotions, C-PTSD responses, fear responses, no age gap, readers nicknames is Beanie (coffee beans) +18 minors DNI! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING!!

Slow Hands Masterlist

Two days had passed since Joel and Ellie took the steps together to make up. Joel already had a visible pep in his step, and a lightness in his eyes that Tommy hadn’t seen in his brother for over 20 years. Joel’s back still ached, but the pain was subdued.

Patrol was long and uneventful. The two brothers only had a handful of evidence gathered to present to Maria, but neither would give up hope. After untacking Tex and Timber, Joel and Tommy turned both horses out in one of pastures just outside the stables. Tess was grazing alongside the fence when Timber and Tex went to greet her.

A wave of melancholy washed over his features as he watched Tex and Tess nuzzle one another affectionately. He thought of you, of course.

“Hey, Joel?” Tommy asked alongside him with his arms resting along the wooden fence. “Y’wanna have a drink with me real quick at the Tipsy Bison before y’head home?” He rasped softly.

“I’d love to, but I promised Ellie we’d have a movie night tonight. Can’t go and let her down, y’know? How about tomorrow?” Joel suggested with a grin.

“Ah, movie night with the kiddo. Hey, I think that’s great that y’all are movin’ forward. Tomorrow sounds good.” Tommy responded with a genuine smile. It was a relief that he and Joel were growing close again. He missed his brother terribly.

“Yeah, and Beanie as well. I let Ellie pick out the movie. Think she said we were gonna watch Curtis and Viper 2.” Joel stifled a chuckle as he glanced down at the toe of his boots.

“Aw shit, that’s a good one! Well, you enjoy yourself, okay? Adios, big brother. See ya in the mornin.’” Tommy reached over and gave Joel a side hug before he pushed himself off the fence.

“See ya in the mornin, Tommy.” Joel mumbled to himself with a smile slowly creeping over his lips. Truthfully, he was rather excited for this movie night with you and Ellie. He couldn’t picture a better way to spend his evening than with his two favorite girls.

“Hey, Tex? Y’keep a good eye on your gal tonight. Y’hear? I’ll see ya in the mornin’, pal.” He spoke softly as his horse lifted his head from where he was grazing. He let out a snort in response as his tail swished away at the pesky flies.

The weight of Tommy’s letter in Joel’s pocket felt ten times heavier than when Joel first had written it. He thought about making a quick pit stop at the Tipsy Bison to give it to him, but tomorrow was a new day. He’d give the letter to Tommy first thing in the morning.

Ellie’s carved wooden fawn was tucked away in the inside pocket of his flannel. He brought it on patrol to show Tommy, and because he liked having a piece of his baby girl with him. Tonight he’d give her the gift, and to you, his precious star, something that twinkled like the night sky; matching charm bracelets. Two golden hearts dangling from the chains. Appearing brand new, untouched. The names Peggy carved into one, and Steve into the other. Lovers from the past, and now lovers in the present.

He couldn’t wait to see the look on your pretty face when he would present the bracelet to you. He said one last goodbye to the horses. He’d pass by your home en route to his own as he usually did every evening after patrol. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until he noticed a figure looming in the distance. He squinted his eyes through the harsh rays of the setting sun. He approached the figure with cautious steps.

As far as he was concerned, no one ever hung around your home like this. It raised suspicions immediately. His boots crunched under loose dirt as the figure stopped their pacing and seemed to pause in thought.

“Cody?” Joel’s tone ran cold, edged with a sharp suspicion as his footsteps stopped a foot away. A balmy breeze sifted through his salt and pepper streaked tendrils.

The younger man looked around for a moment as the gears in Joel’s brain began to work on overdrive. He knew Cody, or so he thought. He believed Cody was a good man. They shared many meals, conversations—

“Have y’seen Beanie around by chance?” Cody asked casually as he ignored the obvious suspicion that Joel was facing.

Joel’s hackles raised on instinct as he watched Cody lean up against your fence with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Haven’t seen her since this mornin.’” Joel responded flatly. He knew right then and there that he had to play this cool for the time being. He didn’t need Cody knowing that he was onto him.

“Right. Well, thanks anyway, old man.” Cody muttered the last bit as he turned on his heel to walk away.

“What’re you doin’ hangin’ around her place anyway? Y’know I could have you—”

“Reported? Yeah, sure you can. What would you even report me for, Miller? Cody scoffed. “All you had to do was not get yourself involved. Coulda just kept your nose out of things, but that’s not how you play your game, right?” He turned to face the older man once more just as a distinctive crash was heard from inside of your home.

Joel moved quickly, but Cody was quicker. Stronger, and trigger happy.

Cody was pouncing on the older man like a predator does to their prey. They tousled in the dusty dirt before Cody had him pinned down. His fists rained down on Joel’s face and the pained groans only seemed to spur Cody on further.

“Just had to go and get yourself involved with that fuckin’ cunt, huh?!”

Joel tried to fold his arms over his head to block out the swift punches to his face. Cody was ruthless, and Joel wasn’t as strong as he once was. Years ago he would have snapped Cody like a toothpick, but his age was beginning to catch up with him and this was the result.

Through gritted teeth Joel attempted to use his weight to throw Cody off of him, but it was no use. “I’ll fuckin’ kill every last one of you. I’ll rip you limb from fuckin’ limb and scatter your remains to the wolves—”He growled.

“Yeah? And how do you propose you’re gonna do that, Joel? Y’ain’t the one with the upper hand here, old man! You’re not takin’ this from me! Imagine how proud he’ll be when I not only bring in the moose, but your precious Beanie too.” He sneered conceitedly.

That’s all Joel needed to get a second wind of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He growled between his teeth as he used what little remaining strength he had left to force Cody off of him. He was reaching for his concealed pistol tucked in his belt loop under his shirt, when Cody kicked it from his grasp just as the two men inside of your home came rushing out.

“Jesus! fuck, Cody! What the hell are you doin?’ This wasn’t part of the plan!” The one man, a burly fellow with scarred tissue from third degree burns that covered nearly half of the left side of his face yelled urgently. Through the rushing of blood, and pain stabbing every inch of Joel’s face, he recognized this man too. He recognized the man next to him as well, smaller in stature, but stocky. Alex and Oliver.

“Fuck the plan! I’m not gonna waste this opportunity!” He sent the heel of his boot right into Joel’s gut causing him to double over into the crimson speckled dirt with a pain ridden grunt. “Well?!” He threw his hands up in the air. “Was she in there or not?!”

Alex and Oliver slowly looked over at one another before their shoulders simultaneously slumped inward. “No, but—”

“FUCK!” Cody snarled out of sheer frustration. He couldn’t let him down. He was told he couldn’t show up empty handed. It wasn’t an option.

Just as Joel’s fingers weakly grasped the handle of his pistol, that lay only a short arms distance away, Cody sent his boot right into his face. There was a sickening crunching sound of bone matter and cartilage being crushed as Joel’s body stilled. He was knocked out cold from the impact as blood leaked down his face and soaked into the dusty earth beneath him.

Neither men moved as Cody began to pace in contemplation. He paid no mind to the consequences he would face for his actions.

“Cody, we need to get the fuck outta town right fuckin’ now! If anyone sees—”

“And show up empty handed?! Fuck no.”

“Cody, she wasn’t there. We have no fuckin’ clue where she could be. C’mon, let’s just go back and regroup before someone shows up and finds Joel layin’ in a pool of his own blood.”

Cody ignored his counterparts as he continued to pace in a tight circle. He suddenly stopped when the lightbulb went off in his sick mind. He turned towards the two men, with a smirk that could only be described as sinister, “Angie.”

Ellie was curled up against your body with her cheek pressed gently into your shoulder. Her eyes flickered towards the windows in the family room. She watched the last bit of sunlight dip behind the horizon as a warm summer breeze blew through the beige curtains.

Joel should have been home by now.

She waited with alert ears for the sound of the front door to squeak open any minute now. It never came.

She shifted against you before your gazes met. “Beanie, he should have been home by now.”

You understood full heartedly that this movie night was important to Ellie. This was the first time that she and Joel were going to be spending some quality time together after everything they had gone through. This was a big deal.

“Kiddo, I’m sure he’s on his way now. Maybe he and Tommy just got caught up in something?” You wanted to reassure her and yourself that Joel was in fact on his way, and maybe he was just running late.

“Beanie..he—promised. What if he’s ditchin’ me? God, this was so stupid.” She went to bury her hands in her face, but you stopped her.

“Ellie, he’s not ditching you. He would never do that to you. He loves you. I’m sure he’s just running late is all.” Your own fears began to crawl up into your subconscious. What if something was wrong? What if something had happened?

Ellie wanted to believe you, she really did, but her own fears were making an appearance as well. It didn’t help the fact that her last conversation with Joel had been about his suspicions of Lucas..

“I’m gonna go check the stables, okay? You stay here. Lock the doors.” Ellie was up from her spot on the couch before you could even attempt to stop her.

“Ellie,” you started, voice wavering from the building nerves, “be careful, okay?”

The teen looked over at you with a small, yet confident grin, “Always am.” Her face twisted back to a serious one as she tucked her gun in her hoodie pocket. Joel surely would have scolded her if he had seen it.

You listened to the soft click of the door opening and closing. Your eyes drifted over to the unoccupied spot on the couch where one of the pillows was smashed down. Joel’s spot. .

Please. Please just be running late.

Please be okay, Joel.

Tommy found himself reminiscing on the good ole days as he nursed his glass of beer. Condensation dripped down the outside of the glass like tear drops on cheeks. The noisy chatter that encircled him was drowned out by his thoughts. Joel had always been the protector, the planner, the guardian. And as a young boy, Tommy viewed Joel as his hero. His own beacon of light through the darkness. And when Sarah died? It all changed. He was angry. At the world. At himself. And now, here in this peaceful community, he was getting to see those small glimpses of the old Joel that had laid dormant for so many years.

The Joel that he knew and loved so deeply.

He left his glass half empty as he said his goodbyes to some of the patrol guys, and the barkeep before he walking towards the door.

He was heading in the direction of the home he shared with Maria when he noticed a mass laying just outside your home. He thought that his brain was playing a cruel trick on him, and the approaching dusk might have also played a role in what he was seeing.

Gravel and dirt particles crunched beneath his heavy boots as he started his approach. As he drew nearer, he was able to make out the outline of a body. And, oh—god

Tommy remembers the moment he heard the shot ring through Joel’s house as if it had happened just yesterday. While he gathered supplies in the garage, his big brother was upstairs with the barrel of a revolver pressed against his temple.

How could Tommy not have known? How could he have missed the signs? The indications that Joel was thinking of taking a drastic measure to end his life. How could he have missed it?

“Joel!” A younger Tommy Miller yelled in fear. He threw down the tool box in a haste. Tools of all shapes and sizes clattered to the concrete in a harsh crescendo.

“Joel! Please, no. Please.” He chanted weakly under his breath as his feet carried him up the staircase. He stumbled on the top step as a wave of nausea made its presence known.

“Joel!” He yelled again, more desperately than the last. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing his brother so soon. He couldn’t. Not when just days ago they laid Sarah to rest. He couldn’t do this without Joel.

Sweat pooled at the back of his neck the closer he drew to the ajar opening of Sarah’s bedroom. He held onto the wall for support as his knees began to inevitably buckle from the dread crawling up his throat.

“Joel.” He croaked, “please. Please be alive in there.”

With a shaky breath, and through a mess of tears, Tommy pushed open Sarah’s bedroom door.

“I missed.” Joel murmured in disbelief. Disappointed that he couldn’t just do one thing fucking right. He couldn’t just follow through with his promise. His final wish to be with his daughter. His baby girl.

His palms trembled as his dull brown eyes flitted down to the revolver still in his grasp. He paid no mind to the blood slowly trickling from the right side of his head. Just a graze. Missed completely.

“Joel, what the fuck did you do that for?” Tommy wasn’t sure if he should laugh, cry, yell, all of the above? “You’re bleedin’, brother.”

“Oh.” Joel responded flatly. He brought his fingers up towards the right side of his head. He hardly flinched when his fingertips dragged through the flowing blood. He brought his hand back down to his eye level, fingers soaked in crimson. Then, the ringing started. Tommy’s voice started to sound fuzzy from the right side. “I flinched, Tommy. Thought I could do it. I was so sure—”

“Joel. Stop it, please.” Tommy nearly begged his brother as he cautiously moved in closer.

“I wanted to die, Tommy. I ain’t have anythin’ left to live for.” He refused to make eye contact with his brother purely out of shame.

“Killin’ yourself ain’t gonna bring Sarah back, Joel. Its fuckin’ selfish that you—” His words were bitter, jaded, sharpened with intent to harm. “I fuckin’ need you, Joel. I need my big brother to keep us alive. Is he still in there?” He pointed to Joel’s chest, symbolizing his heart.

When Joel finally brought his chin upwards to face his brother, the look on his sunken features shattered Tommy right down to the core. A broken man, father, brother. The same man that helped Tommy with his homework. The same man that taught him how to ride a bike. The same man that Tommy viewed as his hero. Where was he now?

“He died along with her.”

“Joel!” Tommy felt his voice get lodged in his throat at the sight of his older brother laying motionless in the crimson stained dirt. Panic began to swell and fester like an untreated wound the second his eyes landed on Joel’s handgun just an arms length away.

“No. No. Please— what happened, Joel!” He sank to his knees alongside him. “We were just—talkin’ about how much you were lookin’ forward to the movie night with Ellie and Beanie, remember? You said that you would see me in the mornin’, dammit!” He yelled, slamming one of his fists in the dirt before he took a shaky inhale. “Remember?”

He wouldn’t hurt himself, would he? The thought flashed through his mind briefly. He remembered finding Joel in a pool of his own blood after Sarah died. Tommy brushed away strands of Joel’s hair that were congealed together with blood. His brows furrowed intently when he found there was no bullet hole in Joel’s skull before he pressed his middle and pointer finger right against Joel’s pulse point.

Please. Please. Please still be in there, Joel.

When the faintest pulse was detected, Tommy let out a visible sound of relief. His big brother was alive, but Tommy knew he had to act fast.

“S’alright, big brother. You’re alright. Gonna get you fixed up.” He murmured to himself just as he heard approaching footsteps.

“Tommy?..” It was Ellie. Her voice wavered at the sight of her uncle and father on the ground. “J—Joel?!” Her eyes were wide with oncoming tears brimming when she locked in on Joel’s unmoving body.

“Tommy, wh—what the fuck happened?!” She blinked away her tears just as Tommy stood up from the ground. “Is he fuckin’ dead, Tommy?!”

“Ellie, I don’t know what happened. I was on my way home and—found him like this. He’s alive, kiddo. He’s alive, but we gotta get him to doc right away.” Tommy never felt like he was all that great at taking on the protective role, but his niece needed his comfort and reassurance that everything was going to be okay.

Ellie wasn’t listening to a word Tommy was saying. All she could focus on was Joel’s bloodied face and still body. Her emotions were consuming her entirely before she felt Tommy’s warm embrace wrapping her up. She let her tears soak into his shirt as she clung to him for dear life.

“Ellie, I know you’re scared, kiddo. But I need ya to be strong for me, and for Joel. We gotta get him to doc right now. I need you to help me carry him okay?” He spoke in a soft tone, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “He’s gonna be just fine. Your old man has always been a fighter.”

She squeezed her uncle tightly before pulling away from his embrace. She wiped what remained of her tears away on the sleeve of her shirt. “I’ll—I’ll take his legs?” She questioned rather than suggested. Seeing Joel like this, bloodied, weak, on the verge of—

“Ellie, he’ll be okay.” Tommy firmly reassured her again. He bent down over his brother and gently hoisted him up under his armpits while Ellie lifted him up by his legs.

Joel felt like dead weight, but his brother and daughter’s determination helped them power through the dull ache and strain in their muscles.

Tommy hated hospitals just as much, if not more than his brother did. The pungent stench of bleach, the droning hum from the overhead fluorescent lights. It was unappealing, cold, and overall a dreadful experience. But out of all of the late night visits to the ER after another bar fight, this by far was the worst of all to see his brother unconscious, dried blood crusted on his skin. Yet appearing peaceful while Doc checked his vitals and any signs of internal injuries

Ellie was seated next to her uncle nervously fidgeting with her fingers. Her leg was bouncing up and down frantically, until Tommy gently placed his palm over her knee in an attempt to soothe her.

“Well, he might have a bit of bruisin’ to his ribs, and his nose is definitely broken, but it’ll heal. There’s a chance he might be concussed, but I won’t know that for certain until he wakes up.” Doc said while tucking his clipboard under his armpit.

“I’ll stay here till he wakes up. Don’t want him wakin’ up alone.” Tommy said with a slight nod in Doc’s direction.

“I’m staying, too.” Ellie was defiant, of course. It was in her nature, and she couldn’t fathom not being by her dads side—

“Ellie, I’m gonna go and find someone to walk you home, okay? One of the guys on patrol..maybe a couple, given the circumstances.” He needed to make sure his niece got home in one piece, first and foremost.

Ellie clenched her fists, lips pressed tightly together as her eyes met Tommy’s in an intense stare. He could see residue of dried tears on her cheeks, and fresh ones beginning to brew like an oncoming storm. “Tommy,” she started, voice low, yet stern. “I’m not fuckin’ leaving him. I’m not. You can’t—”

“Ellie, I know you want to stay here with him too, but somethin’ about this ain’t right. You and I both know that there’s been some suspicious activity happenin’ as of late. Joel is goin’ to be okay, kiddo. He’s as stubborn as a mule.”

Her lower lip wobbled under the bright fluorescent light. She wanted to be angry at her uncle for telling her what she needed to do, but he was right, and there really wasn’t another second to waste. “Don’t you dare even think of leavin’ his side, Tommy. Don’t you dare.” She wiped her eyes along the back of her hand before making the final decision to get up from where she was sitting.

“I won’t, kiddo. I promise.” Tommy reassured her.

She walked over to the right side of the bed where Joel was lying and gently ran her fingers through a few stray curls that were stuck to his forehead. Dried sweat, dirt, and blood littered his hair and face. She leaned down, whispering something while she pressed her lips to his temple, squeezing her eyes shut.

Please don’t die.

Tommy left the room to give Ellie a bit of privacy. He flagged down a nurse in the hallway and quickly explained that he needed someone to ensure Ellie safely got home. It was decided that two patrol members would escort her home.

When Tommy returned, he was with Jesse and Liam waiting outside the open doorway.

“Ellie?”

Her head snapped in the direction of Tommy’s voice as she quickly wiped away the remnants of her tears.

“Jesse and Liam are gonna make sure you get home safe. Okay, kiddo?”

“Sure.” She muttered. Agreeing with her uncle didn’t mean that she had to act happy about it. Despite her feelings, she made a point to hug her uncle before she left the room.

Don’t leave him. She reminded him.

Sunlight warms his skin, birds chirping in the high treetops, a soft breeze rustles through his hair, kissing his temple. He knows this place, where he stands. It’s—

“baby girl?” He chokes out, stumbling forward in an uncoordinated motion.

She’s there. She’s alive. She’s got daisies in her curls.

“Dad?”

He nearly drops to his knees right at the spot where he and Tommy dug her grave all those years ago. He stops in his tracks as she turns around to face him. She’s wearing the same clothes that she died in, except there’s no blood. No bullet wounds. She’s untouched. Bright, glowing under the rays of sunlight.

“Are you really here? C-can I hold you? Are those daisies in your hair? Baby girl, I’m so sorry.” The words tumble past his lips like an avalanche of word vomit. His heart lurches in his chest, leaping from the confines of his ribcage.

Sarah’s feet carry her swiftly to her father before she’s wrapping her arms around his middle, hugging him tightly with her cheek pressed firmly against his chest. “I’m really here, dad.” She squeezes her eyes shut.

Joel’s arms wrap around her immediately, hugging her to his chest as tightly as he can, he’s trembling, tears blurring his vision, dripping down his cheeks and landing softly on her head of curls. He pulls away only to gently cradle her face in his strong, calloused, gentle hands.

She’s here. She’s alive. His baby girl.

“Dad..you—you remembered our favorite spot?” Her smile is beautiful, radiant, full of life.

“Of course I did. Our hikes, the fresh air. We—we loved it out here. I—I never forgot. Baby girl, I haven’t forgotten you. I—I think about you everyday. I’m so sorry. I miss you..I miss you so much.”

Her hands come to rest against the patches of his now graying beard. “Dad, you don’t have to apologize. I’m okay, I’m happy. I miss you too, dad. I miss you so much, but Ellie, she needs you. I’ll always wait for you, I promise. I’m always going to be right here.” She drops one of her hands from his face to then point to his heart. “I’m always with you.”

His face falls as his thumbs gently stroke her cheekbones. He’s not ready to leave, not yet. Not so soon. Too soon. He needs more time. Time. Time. Time.

Ellie.

“You—you would have loved her, baby girl. She reminds me so much of you. Her smile, her laugh. I see you in her. She’s—she’s my blessing. My second chance..my light in the darkness.” He sniffles, leaning down so he can press his lips to her forehead.

“And she needs you more than ever now, dad. She needs you. You have to forgive yourself, okay? Please promise me that one day, you will forgive yourself, dad. Promise me.”

“I promise you, baby girl. I promise. Daddy loves you, okay? He loves you so much.” There’s so much more he wants to say, so much more he wants to tell her, but there’s not enough time. He knows it.

“Dad, I love you so much. Tell Tommy I miss him too, okay? I’ll see you again one day, when the time is right.” She hugs him one last time as he buries his face into her mess of curls, holding in his sobs as more tears begin to fall.

“When the time is right, baby girl.” He murmurs.

—

“Well, brother. Guess it’s jus’ you and me now, huh?” Tommy wants to laugh, but he can’t. His emotions are all fucked. Everything is so fucked.

“That kid of yours really loves the hell outta ya. You’re like two feral cats.” He continues, forcing himself to stand and walk over to his brother's bedside. “And I know how much you love her.” He murmurs as he glances down at the nightstand where the contents of Joel’s pockets are laid out.

The two charm bracelets, the wood carving of a fawn for Ellie, and a folded piece of paper now tarnished with blood and debris.

“One of these for Beanie?” He asks while gently picking up one of the charm bracelets. “I’m so happy you listened to my advice and went to her coffee shop. I jus’ had this feelin’ that you two would hit it off.”

“You love her, huh? Like..really love her? I’m glad, Joel. I’m glad that you’re finally allowin’ yourself to love, and be loved. If anyone in this fucked up world deserves that, it’s you.”

He sets down the charm bracelet alongside the other before he picks up the wood carved fawn. One of the delicate ears had broken off during the fight, but it was fixable. “Ellie is going to love this when she sees it. You’ve always been..a giver, Joel.. Always thinkin’ of others before yourself. Puttin’ your heart out on the line. I know it hasn’t been easy for you, but I’m so grateful that you met Ellie when you did. You saved her, but she saved you just as much. Turned that cold heart of yours into somethin’ good again.”

He placed the fawn down gently before he eyed the folded piece of paper. “Y’still writin’ those letters? Have they been helpin?’ Y’know, I thought about writin’ a couple myself.”

Something in his gut tells him that this letter..is meant for him.

He swallowed the lump rising in his throat as he reached for the piece of paper and picked it up with trembling fingers. He sees his name written on the outside, and his vision goes blurry with tears. “You..were gonna give this to me tomorrow when we said we were gonna meet at the Tipsy Bison?”

He slowly sinks down along the side of the bed, unfolds the letter and begins to read it silently.

Tommy, this is the third letter I have written thus far, so hopefully this comes across the way I have intended it to. Ever since we were just two little boys scraping our knees up on the playground, telling each other secrets, and holding each other tight when mom and dad would argue into the odd hours of the night, I always found myself being protective over you. I ain’t even sure if it had anything to do with age, and more to do with the fact that it’s been instilled in me since birth that I'm a natural protector. I’d do anything to keep you safe.

I’ve never told anyone this, but the day you told me that you wanted to join the army, and make a difference in the world, I wept. I soaked my pillow with my tears that very same evening cus’ I realized I couldn’t protect you anymore. You were eighteen, and ready to take on the world. Selfishly, I didn’t want you to go, and I know that war changed you. I know what it did to you, and you were no longer the little boy hiding under the covers from the thunder and lightning. You were molded into a man right before my eyes, but you’ve always been my little brother, and ain’t nothin’ gonna change that.

I know you blame yourself for the night that we lost Sarah. I still remember the grief in your eyes. You tried so hard. So fuckin’ hard, and I’m so sorry for what I became after she died.

A stray teardrop fell along the thin paper as the word ‘died’ began to blur from the sudden moisture.

You literally had to pry her cold body from my arms because I refused to let go. Even when we dug her a shallow grave near the woods she loved to hike in, you had to stop me from crawling into that goddamn hole with her.

24 hours. 1 day since the outbreak. 1 day without his baby girl

“She’ll be happy here, Joel. She gets to rest in her favorite place.” Tommy murmured as he set the shovels down next to the grass covered earth that would soon be dug up to create a shallow grave for Sarah to finally be laid to rest. The younger Miller brother hid his grieving behind a stoic face. He didn’t want Joel to see how much pain he was in. He wanted to be the strong one for once in his life, especially since he blamed himself for Sarah's death. If only he had been there sooner. If only he had acted quicker, maybe she would still be alive.

Joel was unmoving as he held his deceased daughter, who had long since grown cold and stiff in his arms. She was wrapped in a sheet, as Joel couldn’t bear to see her unmoving eyes any longer. He had shed his last tears, as he watched his brother begin to dig a shallow grave. As the minutes ticked by, Joel was realizing that after Sarah was to be buried, he no longer would be a father, and the thought made him feel queasy. What did he have to live for if he was no longer a parent? What was the point?

“Tommy..” Joel croaked, “I–can’t let her go.” He choked up as the weight of the world was beginning to press down on his shoulders. He held Sarah close to his heart where his chin came to rest upon her covered head. “Tommy, we–”

“Joel, we have to let her go. Brother, please. She’s gone, and there’s nothing we can do to bring her back. I’m sorry.” He was. If he could go back in time and take Sarah’s place, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

Joel’s eyes began to glaze over with fresh tears as he began to frantically whisper to Sarah as if she could hear him from the other side. “S’okay baby girl. You’re okay. Daddy has you, and he’ll see you soon. I promise. I’m coming for you, baby girl.” He pressed a firm, promising kiss to her covered head before he slowly lowered himself onto his knees along the edge of the hole in the dirt. He could feel stomach acid rise up his throat at the thought of the earth, and mother nature consuming his baby girl. He wanted to go with her.

Tommy watched with a heavy heart as he watched his older brother gently place his baby girl into the shallow grave. His own tears began to silently fall as images of a newborn Sarah flashed in his mind. He remembered the pure joy and love that radiated from Joel the moment he got to hold his daughter for the first time. No parent should ever have to bury their child.

As Tommy willed himself to begin shoveling the dirt he dug up into the grave, he watched in horror as his grief-stricken brother nearly had crawled into the hole. He dropped the shovel in a haste as he grabbed ahold of the underside of Joel’s shoulders and yanked him back.

The soul-shaking, torturous, anguished sound that cascaded from Joel’s mouth, was one that chilled Tommy’s blood. It could only be described as a grieving parent refusing to let their only child go.

Tommy still has nightmares of it.

I’m sorry I put you through that. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t just fuckin’ pull myself together for both of us. I know how scared you were, Tommy. I was scared too. I was terrified. I was supposed to be the big brother then. The one who had all the answers. Who could come up with a plan at the drop of a hat to keep his little brother alive. Instead, you had to fill that position. You stepped into that role because I gave you no other choice. If you didn’t force me to leave that spot where she died, I would have rotted there with her. I never thought for a moment about the pain that you were feeling. I lost a daughter that night, but you lost a niece, and a brother all in one night.

48 hours. 2 days since the outbreak. 2 days without his baby girl.

It was Tommy’s idea for him and Joel to return home to gather up as much food and supplies they could get their hands on. Joel was apprehensive, but Tommy reassured him that they wouldn’t have to stay long. So, Joel reluctantly agreed. Their neighborhood was dead silent with no signs of life to be found. The bombs that the government had dropped only impacted the major cities, and left the small neighborhoods untouched from their destruction. It would have just been another day if it weren’t for the familiar bodies scattered in the street. Both Tommy and Joel avoided looking at the deceased body of Nana Adler as they crossed their front yard.

“I’m gonna grab what I can from the garage, and then I'll meet you inside? Grab a couple of backpacks and stuff it with clothes, and anything else you think we might need. Okay, Joel?”

The older Miller brother could only meekly nod as a non-verbal response. He was too focused on remembering that he had stashed a revolver in his office drawer for safe keeping. At least it would be quick.

Tommy was unaware, clueless to Joel’s plan to end his life. He knew his brother was mourning, but he never had thought about the drastic measures he would take to be reunited with Sarah.

As Joel ascended up the stairs, memories of his life before the outbreak leaked into his mind. A five year old Sarah running down the stairs to avoid bath time after playing outside all day. Sticky with sugary sweet syrup from a popsicle, and dirt and twigs stuck in her head of curls. Joel patiently demanded that she needed a bath. Well, Sarah had other plans of course and Joel would have to catch her first.

He could hear her gleeful giggles now; almost sweet music.

Soon, baby girl. I promise.

His footsteps were soft, and undetected as he padded down the hall to his office area. His hand grasped the handle as he slowly turned it and pushed the door open with ease. Everything was right as he left it. Blueprints for a new project he and Tommy were working on. A school paper from Sarah that she had left for him to proof read. A stale cup of coffee. Tommy’s note tacked to the corkboard that Joel kept from when they were kids. A life preserved in time. He reached for the note as he gingerly plucked it from where it was pinned. He folded it carefully before slipping it into his pocket. He wanted to have a piece of his brother with him, always.

Joel didn’t feel nervous as he opened the file cabinet drawer that contained his concealed revolver. He greeted it like an old friend as he grasped it firmly in his palm. The coolness of the metal diffused his clammy skin. He could do it here, he thought silently. No, he wanted to be closer to Sarah. To be comforted by her familiarity. So, he left his office and went straight to her room.

As he brought the barrel of the gun to his temple, he felt calm. He felt ready. More ready than he had ever felt in his entire life. He felt sorry for leaving Tommy to fend for himself, but he knew that his brother would survive, and he’d be better off without him anyway.

As his finger hovered over the trigger, he observed Sarah's untouched room. From the crumpled sheets along her bed where he had tucked her in for the very last time, her discarded backpack, her posters, trophies from soccer, and all of her photographs. Photos of her and Joel. Her and Tommy. She was the happiest kid ever, and that’s how Joel wanted to remember her.

As his finger gradually applied pressure to the trigger, he flinched. The bullet missed, and grazed the right side of his temple. His right ear was profusely ringing as he dropped to the carpet like a bag of bricks. He could faintly hear Tommy’s shouts and footsteps racing up the stairs as blood slowly trickled down his face.

Tommy, I was selfish. I was selfish for wanting to take my life and leave you to fend for yourself. My baby brother. The same brother I swore to protect till my last dying breath. I was a coward, Tommy. A weak, selfish, pathetic coward. I wanted to take the easy way out. The cheap way. I just hope you still don’t hate me for it. I hope you don’t hate me for putting you through the trauma and pain of almost losing me too. Sometimes I wonder if my attempted suicide triggered your thirst for blood. As if I am the direct cause for the carnage you partook in when we joined Tess and her raider group. Sometimes I wonder if all those times that we murdered people, that you pictured me on the other end of the gun. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the brave big brother that you always believed me to be. I’m sorry that even over twenty years later, I’m not me. I’m not the Joel that you looked up to. I’m not sure if I'll ever be that version of myself again, but I am ever-so grateful that I am still your brother. Your flesh and blood.

I hope that one day you’ll be proud to be my brother again. Till then, I'll always have your back.

-Your big brother, Joel. The one that held you when things went bump in the night.

Tommy isn’t even aware of how much time has passed while he reads Joel’s words over till they're practically burned into his brain. He doesn’t feel the shifting of the coarse sheets, or see Joel’s fingers twitch at his side.

“Tommy..” Joel croaks, voice hoarse and barely audible.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

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daffi-990 · 3 months

Text

WIP Wednesday 🌊

Tagged by the wonderfully talented @wikiangela, @diazsdimples and @tizniz. Make sure to check out their snippy snip snippets.

It was so hard to pick what part I wanted to share today from Rival Firefighters 🚒 because I wrote a scene this morning and ahh it was just … I really like it and want to share the whole thing cos I want you all to scream at me but I also don’t want to share everything you know? 😅

Prev snippet here

“Eddie, it’s for you.” Bobby hands him the SAT phone, a concerned looked etched on his face.

Eddie takes the phone, albeit a bit hesitant. Dispatch wanting to talk to him has warning flags flying up. He’s not a commanding rank so the only reason he can think of as to why they’d be tracking him down is because they’re about to give him bad news.

He knows that Buck and Chris are safe. Buck had texted him that they were planning on going to the movie theatre near his apartment and then out for ice cream at that place Chris loves that is not at all in the area where the tsunami hit. They’re safe.

Tia Pepa and Abuela are visiting Eddie’s parents back in Texas and Eddie isn’t Carla’s emergency contact.

Which only leaves one person.

Dread sinks heavily in his stomach like a lead balloon as he brings the phone up to his ear.

“This is Diaz.”

“Eddie.”

He doesn’t know whether to be relieved or not that it’s Maddie’s voice on the other line. Maybe it’ll hurt less coming from a familiar voice. The voice of a friend. Though he can’t help feeling guilty that it’s Maddie having to shoulder the weight of telling him that his ex wife is injured, missing or — no. He can’t even think the word. It’s too painful. What’s he going to do if Shannon is— if she’s — what’s he going to tell Chris?

Fuck.

He needs to find out what the actual situation is before he starts spiraling.

“Don’t sugar coat it Maddie, just—,” he takes a shaky breath and clutches the phone tighter, trying to steady his trembling hands, “just tell me. Please.”

He’s aware of eyes on him, that Bobby has moved just that little bit closer, body rigid and on alert like he’s ready to jump in and catch Eddie if he needs to.

“A rescue boat found Chris. He’s alive, only sustained minor cuts and scrapes. They’ve taken him to the triage centre. Shannon’s on her way to him now.”

Eddie almost drops the phone as his world comes to a stop. He feels a surge of grief, fear and helplessness claw at his chest, their icy talons slicing into him and leaving him feeling like he’s been flayed open. Bile begins to rise up his throat but he swallows it down, the bitter taste of it lingering and burning. He’s pretty sure his heart stops beating and it’s not until Maddie says the words he’s alive that it picks up its rhythm again, a rush of relief washing over him and soaking through his skin, settling into his bones.

He takes a shuddering breath. Chris is alive.

No pressure tagging: @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @athenagranted @wildlife4life @thewolvesof1998 @fortheloveofbuddie @monsterrae1 @watchyourbuck @exhuastedpigeon @missmagooglie @mellaithwen @bekkachaos @nmcggg @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @epicbuddieficrecs @the-likesofus @theotherbuckley @rewritetheending @rainbow-nerdss @princessfbi @prettyboybuckley @puppyboybuckley @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @steadfastsaturnsrings @try-set-me-on-fire @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck @fiona-fififi @hoodie-buck @homerforsure @honestlydarkprincess @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @king-buckley @lover-of-mine @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @captain-hen and anyone else who wants to share something -> consider this your official tag 😘

#daffi writes #fic: stuck now so long we just got the start wrong #rival firefighters fic #buddie wip #buddie #let me just say that Eddie’s relief is short lived 👀#dude is strapped in for an emotional roller coaster ride #wheeeeeee 🎢

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captjprice · 4 months

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Soap with an Welsh f!reader? 😩 With him just trying his best to learn her about culture, language and country. Just loving her so much that he'll do anything for her. You can add anything I just want my Welsh representation ‼️

Johnny ''Soap'' Mactavish x Welsh!Reader

a/n: i did research. sort of. still, im sorry if its not perfect :( i also havent written fro johnny before so this is.. new

mentions: Fluff, Johnny's an arse, but it's cute

''So, yer basically speaking Elvish, that's it?'' A Scottish voice snaps you from your thoughts. A Scottish voice that belongs to a man you'd very much like to punch and slap. Knowing Johnny was.. dreadful, but even more so now that he seemingly discovered Welsh was the inspiration for Tolkien's Elvish. Your culture wasn't something you spoke about often in the group, mostly because you didn't think any of the members would bother with it.

But then there's Johnny, who seems to be almost too into it. He was constantly at your side, teasing and asking about it. You were wrong, however, to assume that it held ill intent. He was head over heels. Totally smitten. With you, the way you looked, the way you acted.. Ofcourse he was going to try and get to know you. Despite your annoyance, he didn't let up. He'll get what he wants eventually.

''Not really Elvish then, Bonnie?'' He asks, leaning to you in the booth of the bar. Fuck, that nickname too.. You had to look it up the first time he called you that, thinking he was calling you by someone else's name.

''Not really, Johnny.'' You grumble in response, downing the last of your drink with hopes that it may numb the irritation and secret attraction for him. Sure, he was a cock, but he also had this irresistible aura around him that was intoxicating somehow. It made you want to linger around him, so you did just that with the hopes it wouldn't be too obvious.

''So it's just inspired it, then, lass? Come on, talk to me.'' He presses, causing you to huff and shift towards him. ''Yes. It's just inspired. But it's a bit annoying because that's all people talk about when I tell them i'm Welsh.'' You mutter, which causes his smile to twitch slightly. Shit. Bad move, Johnny.

He clears his throat, scooting a little closer to you. ''Alright. Tell me somethin' interesting, then.'' Johnny says with a nod, staring at you. The way he's giving his undivided attention is making you slightly flustered, especially with the way he's looking at you. Good grief..

You move again, your hands placing around on your thighs as you think of something to tell him. Eventually you let out a little breath, ''Um, well, the language is very pretty. Cariad means darling, for example.'' Why am I telling him about nicknames? ''Uh, blodyn means flower.''

As you speak, Johnny's nodding along, seemingly very interested. ''We also have these things called love spoons, and they're just spoons with symbols engraved in them. It's like a token of love, sort of.. My mum always got me ones with flowers on it. It means love. It's kind of silly, but it's sweet.'' You say, smiling fondly at the memory. When you briefly glance up at him, he's practically swooning as he looks at you. ''Sounds adorable, lass.'' His hand rests on the free spot between you two, inching a little closer to your thigh. You smile softly, tilting your head. So he is actually interested. ''Uh, yeah, it's.. yeah.'' You reply, slightly unsure how to continue the conversation. Awkward silence washes over the two of you until Johnny speaks up again.

''So, you plannin' anything after this?'' He asks, his other arm gently snaking around your shoulders. You aren't sure if it's the drinks you've had, or that Johnny just looks so damn good that causes you to lean into him, shaking your head. ''Mm, alright, lass. How about we watch a little movie after, aye?'' His other hand places on your thigh, giving a soft squeeze.

''Only if ya want to, though, No pressure.'' He adds quickly behind it, not wanting you to feel pressured– especially when intoxicated.

You nod, leaning your thighs over to his side, as if telling him it's okay. ''Sure. Aslong as you don't talk about that fuckin' Elvish again.'' You reply, and let out a little noise when Johnny's hand wraps around your waist to pull you flush against him. ''Or what, Bonnie?'' He teases, looking down at you. ''I'll shut you up.'' You blurt, realizing just how wrong it sounds until after you've said it. He snickers, his hands toying at the edge of your shirt. ''Oh, yeah? You will?''

You give an annoyed grumble in response, feeling your face heat up. That wasn't how you meant that comment. At all. You can feel Johnny lean in a little, his breath hitting your ear. ''Shut me up then, lass.''

You definitely did when you got back.

#cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mwii #cod x reader #soap cod #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap x reader #mw2 #cod #john soap mctavish #johnny mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader

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gracesmusings4adults · 1 year

Text

I promise.

Xavier x Reader

Reader: Wednesday’s twin, the twins can share powers because they are connected, and Y/N can control electricity.

“I tried being your friend,” he scoffs. “Look where that got me.”

“This isn't about us, Xavier.”

He lunged forward, chains rattling, he points at me. “No, it’s about you!”

His eyes flicker over to Wednesday. “Every time you both get involved, people get hurt.” He makes eye contact with me. “You’re toxic. All you ever do is make things worse.”

Wednesday takes a step toward the cell, an effort to put some distance between us.

I put my head down and close my eyes. Wednesday watches as I wipe all of my emotions away. She steps away from the cage.

I open up the page revealing the picture of Wednesday and I on the battle field with the pilgrim.

“Tyler warned me that something bad was coming. And I think—“ “No!” Xavier raises his voice. “You’ve already shown me that. I don’t care.”

Y/N gulps. Wednesday feels a wave of grief wash over her. This is her fault. She was the one who pushed her sister to indulge in a friendship with Tyler. She is the one who tried to shove off her sisters need for love and affection onto someone else. She is the one who turned her against Xavier and sent her to the lions den.

“Do you want to stop this? Then leave. Both of you, go far away and never come back.” Wednesday can feel her sisters heart shattering. “Do you understand? That can’t happen if neither of you aren’t here. That’s how you save everyone, okay. So, go.”

“LEAVE!” His chains rattle and for the first time Wednesday sees her sister jump. Tears in her eyes, she closes the paper, and leaves.

Xavier watches her go and then turns to Wednesday. “You too, Add—“ Wednesday steps forward and grabs his shirt. “Never, talk to my sister like that again. You want someone to blame? Someone to hate? You hate me.” Wednesday shoved him back.

Xavier scoffs as she walks away. “She never doubted you. Even when she saw your paintings. She always believed that you weren’t the Hyde.” Wednesday doesn’t look back, but she waits a moment and when all she is met with is silence she leaves.

His body goes limp and he falls to his knees. “Up you go!” Galpin says, keys shaking in his hand. “Time for the transfer.”

Xavier’s eyes seek out any sign of the Addams but he is quickly shoved into the back of the sheriff's police car.

Closing his eyes he remembers all the times that Y/N had shown him kindness. She put on a hard exterior like her sister, but he knew better. He remembered their whispered stories from the first time they met. They were just kids, but even then Y/N knew that she was different, even from her own family of misfits. When they arrived at Nevermore, Xavier knew that she was just as in love with him as he is her. But the Addams twins had perfected their united front. In many ways, Y/N had trained herself to disappear. She now appeared to be a copy of Wednesday.

And she fooled him. She made him believe that she did not care for him. That he was simply a means to an end and then it turned out he was the end—for a while atleast.

“What are we doing?” Xavier asks when the car stops. Sheriff Galpin talks on the phone for a minute and then pulls out his personal phone and looks at his son’s location. “You tracking your little monster?” Xavier scoffs. Tyler was another mistake he made. Xavier should have seen him for what he truly was. He should have warned Y/N. Instead, he allowed her to push him away and befriend a monster.

“You shut it.” Galpin shuts off the car and gets out.

“Hey, wait. Wait! Hey! What about me? What…” Xavier slams his hands onto the wire mesh. “Oh, you asshole!” Xavier kicks the seat and screams in frustration. There is no way to get the chain off and even if he gets out of the car, he is at risk of tripping and hanging himself with the restraints that tie his hands and feet to his neck.

Closing his eyes, the scene from the jail cell play like a movie. He could see the hatred in her eyes that she thought she was hiding. At the time he was telling himself that it was directed at him. But he knew as soon as Wednesday stepped inbetween them that it was a self hatred that was clawing inside her.

Xavier screams once more.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Y/N whispers. She pushes up on her elbow, being careful not to disturb the corpse too much. Xavier nods, but then remembers that his new friend can not see him because they are in a closed casket. “I’m not like the rest of my family.” She sighs. “Sure I am weird and love dancing with seriel killers, but I am diffrent.” Xavier leans over the dead body.

“One summer my parents hired this man-killer nanny and she sent us away to summer camp so she could marry and kill my uncle…” Xavier hangs onto every word. “I have never told a soul, but I loved it. Sure the company was horrendous, but I loved camp. I also love the color pink.” Y/N laughs. She goes through a lists more things that she likes.

“Dont get me wrong, I love my sister. I have killed for my sister—and we have this weird twin thing where we can see the same vision or memories as each other, but I am diffrent.” Xavier stills as her breath washes over him. “I am me.” “I see you.” Xavier says. “You promise?” “I promise,” Xavier grasps her hand and sparks appear. “Hey, Xavier, what if no one finds us?”

Thump, thump. “Yes!” Xavier yells as Thing slides down the back window. “Yes! Yes! Yes, Thing!”

After Thing releases him, Xavier thanks him and takes off running to the school. No one tries to stop him as he grabs the bow and arrows from the archery range and rushes to the courtyard. “Stay away from her!” He shouts. Arrow aimed at the pilgrims heart. He takes in the sight. The courtyard is burning and in the middle stand the Addam’s twins and the pilgrim. “No!” Y/N shouts as he releases the arrow. Wednesday looks at her sister and then jumps infront of Xavier. Both twins fall to the ground.

“We’re fine!” Wednesday shouts, her hands reaching for Y/N. A large black and purple brusie forms on Y/N’s chest where the arrow is impaled in her sister. “Oh my—“ Xavier looks at them both with wide eyes. “Go!” Y/N shouts. “Get them out of here.”

Xavier hesitates and locks eyes with Y/N. “I see you.”

“You promise?” She looks at him with wide eyes. “Yes, I promise. That is the only reason I am going right now.” Xavier squeezes her hand a bolt of electricity shoots up his arm. “Now!” Wednesday shouts. Xavier runs towards the other students. He turns around and watches Y/N pull the arrow out of Wednesday. Both of them stand. Wednesday grabs the sword and Y/N’s hands spark with electricity.

At the gate, Xavier stands with the school as they wait. “Where’s Y/N and Wednesday?” Enid asks, her body shaking. Xavier looks around at his friends and then Enid is pushing through the crowd. Before his thoughts can catch up his feet are running towards Y/N.

Enid falls into their arms. Without thought, Wednesdays pulls away from Enid, her hand entwined with her sisters seperates them as well. Xavier’s eyes rake over Y/N. Her black school uniform is ripped and underneath it is a pink shirt. After a second, both of the twins throw their arms around Enid and bury their heads in her neck.

Looking up, Y/N’s eyes connect with Xavier’s. She pulls away from her sister and Enid. Wednesday hesitantly lets go of her hand. “Xavier—” Y/N goes to explain. Xavier steps forward. “I’m so sorry.” Her eyes gloss over at his words. “I am sorry too. I should have told you that I see you too.”

She reaches out towards him. Her hands stop just before tey touch his face. He leans forward. The buzz of electricity dances along his skin. “I see you, Xavier Thorpe.”

Xavier pulls her into a hug.

Xavier leans on the railing and smiles at Y/N. His cheeks flush a pretty pink when she smiles back and tugs her sisters hand, leading them up the stairs.

“Addams,” Xavier shoved his hands in his coat pockets. Wednesday raises an eyebrow at him. “Hurt her and she will kill you herself.”

Xavier smirks. “Then I’ll raise you from the dead and kill you again,” Wednesday smiles. Xavier’s smirk wavers as he looks into her dead eyes. “Message recieved.”

Y/N steps toward Xavier and their hands intertwine. Wednesday mutters something about the car. “Hey, Wednesday.” Xavier turns his head to look at her. “Thank you.” “Now it’s your turn. But this time, don’t save me. Save my sister.” Wednesday disappears down the stairs.

“Come visit me?” Y/N whispers. Their noses touching. His hands grip her waist. Her new pink sweater a beautiful contrast to her black hair. Xavier tilts his head. There lips centimeters apart. “I promise.”

Y/n smiles and leans back. “Good, because i got something for you if you do…” She smiles and then twirls out of his arms. “Got to go.” “Me too,” He reaches for her one last time. Their hands meet and then she pulls away.

Thinking about doing a series of Oneshots. Y’all interested? Smut to come of course.

Requests are open

Phone calls with Xavier.

#xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x reader smut #xavier thorpe smut #xavier thorpe #wednesday #wednesday!reader #the addams family #addams!reader #tyler galpin x reader #gracesmusings

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mamawasatesttube · 8 months

Text

ok i posted a lil snippet of this fic last night but then decided i didn't like it out of context and deleted the post, but i do think i like this snippet well enough!!! current wip: kon versus the existential loneliness of being alive again.

warnings for internalized homophobia and suicidal ideation!

And then, just as a T-rex goes to fight the Nazi robot in the movie, Tim taps his long fingers against Kon’s knee. A jolt of lightning zaps through Kon’s body, but he ignores it.

“Hey,” Tim murmurs. “How’ve you been doing, big guy?”

“What?” Kon blinks. “I’m good. Why?”

Tim tips his head back and pins him with a piercing look. It’s not as piercing as Lois’s staring-daggers-through-your-soul looks can get, but it’s still up there.

“You’ve been avoiding everyone,” Tim says. “Cassie I get, ‘cuz, like, breakups are never fun. But Bart? Kory and Gar? Cass? And… me?”

“I saw Bart just the other day!” Kon objects. “We played video games and hung out for a while.”

“He said that only happened ‘cuz he invited himself over to see you.” Tim pauses. “Not that I mean we’ve been, like, talking about you behind your back or anything, uh—that’s not what I meant. I just asked because I haven’t seen you around much lately, and I didn’t know if that was a me thing, or…”

Oh. Kon could smack himself.

“No no no—it’s not you, I swear!” He groans, squeezing his eyes shut, and turns his head to hide his face in Tim’s hair. He smells of generic basic bitch men’s shampoo. “I’ve just, uh… I’ve been staying in Smallville mostly. Just… you know.”

Tim hums softly, his hand still resting on Kon’s knee. “Something on your mind?”

I keep wondering if I should have stayed dead. Also, something has been wrong with me since I came back, because I should be devastated about breaking up with Cassie, but all I feel is relief. Something is wrong with me, and I think I didn’t come back right, and I don’t know if I should’ve come back at all.

He can’t say any of that. Not to Tim, who was so shattered by his grief that he tried to clone him. Just to have a little piece of him back. Even if he knew it wouldn’t truly be Kon.

How could he possibly say any of this to Tim?

“Nothing, really,” he says. The lie tastes like ashes on his tongue. “Just… adjusting, I guess. Lost a year. That’s weird. Pa’s dead. That’s… I don’t even know what to say.”

For a moment, Tim is quiet. Then he shifts against Kon’s side, dislodging him. He turns to look Kon dead in the eyes; one hand reaches up and tips Kon’s chin up, resting against his cheek to prevent him from turning away. Kon resists the urge to squirm under his gaze.

“Dude,” Tim says. “You and I both know if it was just adjustment and grief, you wouldn’t be avoiding us.” Another pause. He scrunches up his face a little. “I mean—adjustment and grief both are real and suck and they’re totally valid reasons to be out of it, but that’s—you’re not…”

He trails off. Kon swallows hard and bites the inside of his lip. He can’t tell Tim what’s really eating at him, but his ability to read Tim is a two-way street. Tim knows how to read him, too.

Tim takes a breath. “You used to tell me just about everything.”

Fuck.

“Tim, I’m not…” Kon scrubs a hand over his face. His heart pounds hard in his chest. He can’t put this on Tim’s shoulders. He can’t. It would be so, so cruel to put that kind of fear in Tim’s head, the idea that Kon might want to die again—he doesn’t, he doesn’t want to die again. He just—he just thinks maybe he should’ve stayed dead.

But he can’t say that to Tim. He can’t be that cruel. Not to Tim, who’s already been through so much grief.

“There is something else bothering me,” he admits, unable to meet Tim’s gaze. “But I can’t tell you. And that’s—it’s not your fault I can’t tell you, it’s me, I just—I can’t, okay?”

Tim is quiet for a moment. Something explodes on the TV screen; the white light washes over his face as Kon peers at him through his fingers, heart racing with anxiety. He doesn’t want Tim to think he’s the problem—he just can’t… he can’t say it.

“Are you sure?” Tim asks, after a beat. “I know I’m… different. Not really the same guy I was when you died. If that’s… if you need space to process that, and that’s why—”

“It’s not!”

That’s—that’s too much. Tim can’t think that, Kon can’t let him think that, that would never in a million years be the reason Kon can’t tell him something and he needs to know!

Kon shoves the bowl of popcorn out of the way; his TTK is the only reason it doesn’t go flying across the room, and instead settles neatly onto the coffee table. He throws his arms around Tim’s waist and hauls him into a hug, mindful of the gauze on his upper back as he clutches at him. He can hear the beating of Tim’s heart, can feel it against his own chest; Tim’s bare skin and his own are separated only by the thin layer of Kon’s shirt, and he can feel the warmth of his body radiating through the fabric.

For an agonizing second, Tim is still, frozen in his arms. Then, like a spell has broken, he melts, slotting himself into Kon’s chest like he was made to fit there; his cheek comes to rest against Kon’s shoulder, nose brushing his neck, and his arms slip around Kon’s waist in turn.

“I swear, Rob, it’s not that,” Kon manages. “I swear it’s not. It’s—it’s something in my head. It’s not you at all. You’re—you’re perfect, okay?” He can’t fuck this up. He can’t fuck this up and make Tim think he’s the problem. He just—

He just can’t tell him.

“Kon…” Tim takes a slow breath, blows it out as a deep, heavy sigh against his shoulder. Kon holds him a little tighter, helpless. After a moment, Tim nods slowly against him. “Okay. I believe you.”

The relief is so poignant that Kon’s stomach churns. Thank god. His shoulders slump with the weight of it; gratitude settles like snowfall on top.

Then Tim draws back, looks at him with those same piercing eyes. Like Kon is a puzzle that he needs to turn over and over in his hands until he figures out what makes him tick. “But you still can’t tell me?”

Kon looks away. He misses Tim’s warmth in his arms already. He doesn’t want to think about what that might mean. “…No.”

#rimi talks #the movie with a t-rex fighting a nazi robot is real btw. its called kung fury and it is a cinematic masterpiece.#theres a cop who knows kung fu after he got struck by lightning and also vikings with guns. there is a LOT going on in this movie.#anyways. the point is. um. kon existential crisis wooooo!!!#timkon #tim #kon #rimi writes

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cowgurrrl · 11 months

Note

This is incredibly random but it made me think of you; Oh, how I want my rockstar husband Joel to sing Tennessee Whiskey to me..🫠

Saphy, thank you for your patience and your beautiful brain

Tennessee Whiskey

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: PS sorry this took so long to finish

Summary: A (somewhat) quiet night as you and Joel adjust to sharing life again [1.2k]

Warnings: the tiniest reference to spice, regret, longing, oh they’re so in love and sweet

Since your temporary break from accepting new projects, you and Joel have been together as much as humanely possible. You have a whole year to catch up on, and he's taken every opportunity to spend time with you. Movie nights with Ellie and Sarah (even though she has her own dorm), beautiful, candle-lit dinners at some of LA's best restaurants, walks with Daisy, sleepovers, all of it. But tonight, Sarah is studying for a midterm, and Ellie is seeing a movie with her friends Dina and Jesse, leaving you and Joel alone in the house. Well, Daisy's there too, but she's much quieter than the girls.

He promised to make you a homemade meal but refused your help, delegating you to sit on the island and drink wine while he cooked. The gold necklace he's taken to wearing since you've been gone peeks out from his collar, and a flush of heat rushes through you as you remember the way it swung in your face earlier in the day. He catches you staring and smirks as he tosses a towel over his shoulder. "See somethin' you like?" He asks, and you shake your head, hiding your blush as you sip wine.

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" He parrots. You roll your eyes and rest your hands on the counter. He raises his eyebrows like he's waiting for an answer, and you smile.

"Yes, Joel, you're very nice to look at." You say, and he hums. He leans across the island to kiss you sweetly before turning back to the food. He seems very in his element in the kitchen and getting to add his own spin on the dishes. Watching him cook feels like you're getting to know another part of him. A very welcome part. Many of the people you've dated in the past haven't even owned a kitchen big enough to cook in, so you're perfectly fine being spoiled.

"Now, I'm not a fancy chef or anythin' like that, but I think you'll like this." He says as he puts the salmon in the oven, and you smile.

"I'm sure it'll be great." You reassure him, and he smiles before turning on the stove and filling a pan with vegetables you watched him cut earlier. You're about two glasses of wine in (on an empty stomach), and the room is spinning pleasantly.

These nights are your favorite— devoid of watchful eyes and high-speed cameras. He smells like aftershave, and your body wash when you come up behind him while he cooks, wrapping your arms around his middle and kissing the curve of his spine. His hand covers yours as he sautés the vegetables and hums a familiar tune. You put your wine glass on the counter and let yourself fully rest against Joel. The vibration of his humming thrums through your chest, and you rest your chin on his shoulder.

"You still owe me a song, Miller." You mumble, and he laughs.

"I wrote you a whole album of songs." He says, and you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, but I haven't gotten a real-life Joel Miller serenade yet."

"I was just on tour."

"I was in Ireland, remember?" You ask, and he takes a deep breath like he doesn't want to be reminded of that time. The tour was only in North America, and you weren't in a space, in your work or emotions, to come back to see him. You wish you would've. He wishes he would've come to Europe. You wish you would've gotten to this place of reconciliation and forgiveness sooner. There's no lingering frustration on either side of how things ended, but there's a lot of grief. The air shifts between you, and he swallows thickly. He squeezes your hand a little harder, and you kiss his jaw. "'M here. I'm here now."

"I know." He says as he turns off the knob and moves the sautéed vegetables to a cooler part of the stove. You open your mouth to say something about the ridiculously high heat he had the burner on, but he cups your face and kisses you before you can. "You're here." He whispers, pulling back just enough to kiss you again and again and again. He hums against you, and your hands rest on his waist as he slowly sways with you in the kitchen.

Then, slowly and quietly, he starts singing to you. You were never one for Chris Stapleton or most modern country music, but Tennessee Whiskey sounds so good when he sings it to you like this. He gives each note his full attention and spreads his breath perfectly across each lyric. You don't think many people were born to do many things, but you believe, deep in your soul, that Joel was born to be a singer. You bury your head in his neck to hide the tears pricking in your eyes. You're not sure why you're crying. It could be the wine, or how he's holding you, or the year you spent apart finally catching up to you.

He kisses your temple and rubs your back as he sings. A tear falls down your cheek, and a wet nose nudges your knee as if she could hear the water trickling down your face. You laugh and see Daisy sitting at your feet, whining as she stares at you. You make a sympathetic noise and reach out to scratch her head to tell her you're okay. She doesn't seem satisfied with that, though. Without breaking focus, Joel bends down, scoops all forty pounds of Daisy into his arms, and lets her join in the slow circle you're dancing around the kitchen. She licks your tears away, and you giggle when she rests her head against Joel's chest, too, perfectly content to be babied. You and Daisy each get a kiss, and you take a deep breath to calm yourself down. He carefully places all four of Daisy's paws on the ground again before wrapping you in the biggest, most Joel Miller hug possible.

"'M here. 'M not goin' anywhere." He says, and you nod into his shirt. "I love you."

You've avoided saying the L word since you rekindled your relationship. Not because it wasn't still there but because you were afraid of rushing into anything too fast. The unspoken rule seems stupid now that the words are reverberating across your skull with a scarily easy acceptance. He loves you, and you love him. Enjoy it, dammit.

"I love you, too," you whisper. "Thank you for singing to me."

"I'll sing to you whenever you want, honey."

"Whenever I want?" You ask, pulling back to look at him with a mischievous look. You expect him to try to rescind his statement and launch into a lighter conversation, but he doesn't. He cradles your face in his hands and nods.

"Whenever you want." He says with a kind of finality that makes your heart sing. You won't admit it for two more years, but in that moment, you both know he means forever, and for once, that doesn't scare the ever-loving shit out of you. You stare at him, searching his eyes for any signs of uncertainty or doubt but find none. All you see is love and total adoration.

So, you nod in agreement, the closest you would get to promising yourself to him until your engagement, and say, "I could get used to whenever."

#one for the money two for the show #rockstar!joel miller #rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader #the last of us fluff #tlou fluff #the last of us au #tlou au #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem!reader

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khayrrilrainxwells · 11 months

Text

Flowers Of Love

HR Wells X Reader

A/N: Greetings, dear reader! I present to you my new fic, filled with passion and creativity. Your support through likes, reblogs, and comments would mean the world to me, and it would inspire me to continue writing. Thank you in advance for your encouragement!

Summary: Losing the love of her life was excruciating for (Y/N). In her grief, she longed for the impossible: a chance to turn back time and cherish their love once more, even if only in her dreams.

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

You're sitting in a breathtaking flower field, its vibrant colors complementing the warm hues of the sunset painting the sky. By your side is your beloved boyfriend, HR, whose presence brings you immeasurable joy and contentment. Every date with him, no matter how simple or extravagant, fills your heart with love and excitement. Whether it's a romantic night out, a cozy movie night, or even a quiet breakfast together, as long as you're with HR, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and happiness. From the moment you first met him, you were apprehensive due to past encounters with other versions of Wells, but HR proved to be different—sweet, funny, handsome, and refreshingly down-to-earth. It's his simplicity that captivates you the most, and you consider yourself incredibly fortunate to have him in your life. Being with HR brings you a sense of tranquility that you've never experienced before. He always goes out of his way to ensure your happiness, and the thought of a life without him is unimaginable.

As you gaze at HR, a sweet smile graces your lips, reflecting the deep affection you hold for him. Your attention then drifts to the beautiful flowers that surround you both, their fragrant presence enhancing the romantic ambiance. You find yourselves lying in the grass, your head nestled in the crook of HR's arm, a cozy and intimate position. In his other hand, he holds a delicate red flower, a symbol of love and passion.

"Isn't it peaceful?" you ask, your voice filled with awe as you take in the serene atmosphere.

HR's eyes light up, and he twirls the red flower between his fingers before tenderly placing it behind your ear. As you breathe in the fresh scent of the flower, you shift your position to sit beside him, your eyes never leaving his face. The breathtaking sunset paints the sky in hues of gold and pink, mirroring the beauty you see in HR.

"Do you ever miss it?" you ask, your voice tinged with a hint of sadness, as you twiddle the flower between your fingers, contemplating its delicate petals.

HR gazes at you, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. He moves closer, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, causing your gaze to meet his.

"Miss what?" he asks, his voice tender and playful, a loving smile gracing his lips.

A mixture of emotions washes over you, and a bittersweet smile forms on your face, tears glistening in your eyes. You summon the strength to express the unspoken ache in your heart.

"B-being alive," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper, unable to meet his gaze.

HR's smile softens, and he sits beside you, his touch sending a comforting warmth through your body. He cups your face with gentle hands, causing your eyes to meet once again.

"I think it's time for you to wake up," he says, his voice filled with a tender sincerity. He places a gentle kiss on your cheek, his lips lingering against your skin. "Hopefully, you'll dream about me again."

As his words fade into the ether, HR slowly begins to vanish, leaving you alone in the enchanting flower field. A single tear cascades down your cheek, a testament to the depth of your love and longing. You awaken from the dream, your tear-stained eyes blinking open. Your hands tremble slightly as you wipe away the lingering tears, searching for solace.

Your gaze falls upon a framed photograph on the nearby table, holding a red, dried flower—a precious memento left behind by HR. With a bittersweet smile, you cradle the frame in your hands, pulling it close to your heart. It's a symbol of your enduring love and the cherished memories you shared. Though HR sacrificed himself, leaving a void in your life, you vow to keep his memory alive within your heart.

"Don't you worry, my love. I'm going to dream about you again," you whisper, your voice filled with determination and devotion. Placing the frame back on the table, you take a deep breath, summoning the strength to face the day ahead. While the ache of HR's absence may never fully dissipate, you're determined to honor his memory and find solace in the love you shared. With each passing day, you strive to carry his spirit within you, embracing the sweet moments you had together, and finding comfort in the dreams that bring you closer to him once more.

#tom cavanagh #the flash cw #the flash #hr wells #harrison wells #reader insert #hr wells x reader #hr wells imagine #theflashfic #the flash imagines #theflash

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enchxanting · 11 months

Text

our love is god [ethan landry x reader] pt. 8

read part seven here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: angst then fluff then angst again i'm gonna give you whiplash, emetophobia warning (not graphic just implied), discussion of suicide

a/n: next chapter is gonna be crazy... just fyi so stay tuned i lowkey can't believe i've kept up with this through 8 chapters but i'm glad i did because it's been super fun interacting with you guys and a rlly good writing exercise. enjoy this short chapter!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Diary,

Funerals blow. I suppose they blow more when you were the one to accidentally kill the person, but I think they still blow in general. I tried saying something to Tara when we were all throwing roses into the grave (I know, how trite), but I ended up talking to God instead. I said something dumb, like “Technically, I did not kill Tara, but, hey, who am I trying to kid, right?”

I’ve started coping with humor.

No one ever feels much like celebrating at a teenager’s funeral. Sam was a wreck; barely even talked. I started a conversation, but she just stared through me. Mindy and Chad kept trying to get my attention, but I’m still kind of avoiding them. It’s easier this way, just to be with Ethan.

Speaking of, he didn’t show. Of course, no one was expecting him to– except me. I don’t know, I thought he’d want to be here.

I should probably go. I’ve been away too long, it’s getting suspicious.

Y/N

I close my diary in my lap and shove it into my bag. I’ve been writing in one of the bathroom stalls for the last ten minutes. Trying to kick the hand-washing habit. It’s hard to do much of anything with chapped fingers. Even though Dr. Stone’s writing therapy feels useless, it keeps my hands busy.

Making my way out of the women’s room, I spot my parents in the far corner of the church lobby. My mom has her head down, and her glassy eyes tell me that she’s reading some Times article that we’ll discuss on the car ride home instead of my best friend’s tragic suicide. My dad has the same vacant stare, too, but he’s not absorbed in anything– just staring out a window on the opposite wall.

For some reason, the sight makes me sick– I can’t spend another minute watching it. I storm out of the doors, chest heaving.

Crossing the street, I end up on a small patch of grass by the parking lot. I double over, short of breath, and everything comes up. I’d be mortified if I didn’t feel like shit.

As I finish retching, I feel a hand on my back. I stiffen and turn to look.

“Fuck, Y/N, are you okay?” It’s Chad, with Mindy close behind.

“Uh, yeah,” I say, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Sorry. Just overwhelmed.”

His eyes soften. “I get it.”

I can’t lie: it’s good to see the two of them. After avoiding everyone but Ethan for so long, the relief I feel at being with them outweighs my grief and guilt for the first time in days.

“Are you guys holding up any better than me?” I ask.

Chad laughs softly. “To be honest, no. I try not to think about it. I’ll get sucked into the cesspool of grief.”

“Yeah.” I nod in agreement. “I get that. What about you, Minds?”

She sighs. “Thinking too much, I guess.”

“Mm.”

There’s a long pause between all of us, but I don’t mind. I appreciate the quiet after the service.

Chad clears his throat. “So, um, we get that you’ve been MIA recently, and that’s cool because grieving is personal and all, but we miss you. A lot, actually. So will you please, please, please come have dinner with us tonight? At our place? Our parents are going out, so we can break into their wine cellar like we used to, I will cook, and Mindy will let you choose the movie for once.”

“I don’t know about that last bit,” Mindy intervenes, and Chad gives her a playful shove. “But, yeah. Please?”

I should probably say no, but, fuck, I miss them. “Okay.”

“Yes!” Chad hugs me tight, and pulls away, grinning. “We missed you, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger right now. We’re a team– you, me, Mindy, and Anika.”

Mindy groans. “Save your pep talks for your actual team. Season hasn’t even started yet, dork!”

“Yeah, whatever. We’ll see you tonight, okay?”

I roll my eyes at them as they walk away. “See you then.”

For the first time since Tara died, I let a big smile creep onto my face. Maybe this will all be okay.

That is, until I catch a glimpse of a dark jacket and curly hair in my peripheral vision. Turning sharply, I see Ethan, parked in his car across the street. He’s staring at Chad as he and Mindy walk towards their car.

Then he turns and looks at me, and my blood runs cold. His eyes are unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. There’s no hint of that softness I’ve become used to, but they’re not wild like last night in his car. His eyes are dark and stony, perfectly calculating.

Against my better judgment, I start towards his car, but his engine roars to life. He drops his gaze, and I stop before I reach the curb.

Ethan speeds away without looking back.

taglist: @miawastakens dm or reply to be added!

#scream 6 #ethan landry #ethan landry fanfiction #scream 2023 #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #heathers #heathers au #high school au #jack champion #scream fanfic #scream fanfiction

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pics-and-fanfics · 1 year

Text

Okay, but imagine it-

Y/n moved out of Loki’s part of the tower a few weeks ago, but one day she finally feels the full force of all the emotions she’s been shoving down and ignoring for way too long.

She's a hysterical mess, crying, hyperventilating, and on the “kitchen” floor of her small studio apartment, hiding behind her bed.

She can’t breathe, she feels like something is slowly crushing her from the inside out. She can barely move, can’t think, just knows that if she doesn’t do something, she will probably die because of this.

She does the only thing she can think to do.

With shaking hands she calls Loki, just managing to put her phone on speaker before she drops it, the corner of the screen cracking.

His voice floats through the phone, and the pain in her chest lessens a fraction, but she still can’t breathe, speak, anything.

Loki’s worried. Y/n called him, but all he can hear is shaking breaths.

“Y/n, are you okay? Is something wrong?”

He waits for an answer, even more worried when it doesn’t come.

His keys are in his hand and he’s driving to her small apartment halfway across the city in less than 2 minutes as he tries to get an answer out of the phone.

“Y/n, darling, just talk to me. What’s wrong?”

She sobs, regret washing through her as she hangs up. Why did she call him, why was she such an idiot?

Loki reaches her apartment in minutes, knocking on the door.

“Y/n? Are you in there? Is everything alright?”

Slapping a hand over her mouth, she tries to stay quiet, squeezing her eyes shut and praying he’d leave. She just needed to be alone, to figure this out on her own.

“Y/n? Please answer me darling.”

He’s jiggling the lock, each second that passed building his anxiety. Was she hurt? Was she- He couldn’t think about it.

“I’m coming in.”

She realizes that with each word she heard him speak, the feeling of helplessness and pain in her chest lessens a bit, letting her draw in a proper breath for the first time in nearly 15-30 minutes.

She didn’t want this, but she still couldn’t move. The pain, grief, rage, kept her on the floor, still crying, but a tiny bit more calm.

Loki finally gets her door open with his spare key, and he walks in, looking for her, hearing muffled sniffs and hiccups coming from the small kitchenette. He swerves around the box spring and mattress, the only thing keeping the former off the floor being a small, 2 inch high metal frame.

But why are we bothering with details?

Because it shows how Y/n’s been living since she moved out, away from Loki.

The only counter space in the small apartment was covered by paper plates and plastic cutlery, takeout containers, and disposable plastic cups.

The hamper on the other side of the room is overflowing with dirty clothes, the blanket on the bed is thin, and the sheets have holes. The only thing that looked clean or new was the stuffed animal on the windowsill, the one he got for her. Even the plant next to it was wilting, almost dead.

Was this how she had been living? It was… horrible. She’d been suffering in silence.

But he needed to help her.

“I’m here, darling, I’m here.”

Y/n didn’t know she needed to hear those words, but when she did, she started sobbing again.

She felt his cold arms wrapping around her, and for the first time in days, weeks, months, she didn’t know how long, she felt safe.

Safe.

I am safe, she thought, as she cried into Loki’s arms, still holding her tightly long after she lost track of time and stopped crying.

When was the last time she felt safe?

The longer Loki held her, the more Y/n felt the pain in her chest lessen.

She didn’t want him to leave her, she was miserable. She’d gotten used to Loki letting her sleep in, not waking up early every morning for work.

She was used to curling up with him in the afternoons, reading or watching a movie until she dozed off, not the sound of people screaming at her because she didn’t know where the restaurant got every ingredient they used.

She’d gotten used to the comfort and stability he provided, something she’d noticed was missing only days after she left.

She’d gotten used to him.

And as she realized all this, she came to the inevitable conclusion:

She was in love.

💊

Hey, V, remember how I said last week on Saturday that you were going to hate what I posted on my last day of school? Well, I've scheduled this to release at 12:20 on Friday (typing this saturday night) so that as soon as I'm out, y'all get to see a sneak peek!

I love y'all! Thank you for reading, and I hope everyone except homophobic/transphobic and all the other LGBTQ+-phobics a nice day. and I hope my mom chokes on a cherry pit, shes a bitch and tried to drown me then gaslight me into thinking that she didn't. same with my sister. I hope they both choke on something stupid.

ANYWAYS! I love y'all, and let me know if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist! ❤️😘

@vbecker10 @mochie85 @michelleleewise @fictive-sl0th @silverfire475 @huntress-artemiss @sheris532 @lokixryss @lokidokieokie @stupidthoughtsinwriting @crimson25 @peaches1958 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose

#angst #loki #writing #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel #loki god of mischief #loki fan fic #loki x you #sas #drugs of love love of drugs #sneek peek #sneak peak #spoilers?

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imwritesometimes · 10 months

Text

ok, I lied, I'm not done. under the cut again cause all the spoilers for Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny

I think the reason I loved the movie so much is because it's such a personal Indy story. We know this man up to this point. We've seen all his adventures and we've watched him become this amazing person.

and then we see him kinda grappling with his place in life. He's old. Marion has left him. They are inconsolable over the grief of losing their son. He's lost his dad. and Marcus. and Helena's father. His students don't seem too eager and engaged anymore and he doesn't feel like he belongs anywhere anymore. he doesn't feel like he matters.

so when he does end up back in ancient syracuse and he tells Helena to leave him there. let him die. from his gun shot wound. he has nothing to go back for. he's old news. washed up. let him die. and Helena refuses. tells him that's not his place. and literally drags him back. back to life. and he wakes up and Helena's there. and Teddy. and Sallah. and Sallah's grand kids. and Marion. and there are people that love him still. he still matters. he's not too old. he hasn't lost everyone. people still care about him.

it's his destiny to be there. in his little apartment. with all the people who love him.

that fucked me up. It felt so earnest and heartfelt and like just such a beautiful goodbye to a character that is so beloved. 🥹🥹🥹🥹

#spoilers #indiana jones spoilers #experiencing Indiana Jones Shrimp Emotions #indiana jones and the dial of destiny #dial of destiny spoilers #it's fine i'm fine i'm so normal abt indiana jones....

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fuckmeyer · 10 months

Note

hoo boyo so i'm the small writing human o/ *waves*

thank you for your response and i just took the time to read through your Jacob black's life matters and how smeyer killed him and i found it super interesting. (also it literally excites me seeing the quotes with the page numbers🤤). -----anyway back on track now. so i've always hd a liking for twilight since i watched the movies when they released (i would have been like 10..?) because i generally like the genre it falls in to. back in feb i watched all the movies again with my mum and she owns all the books so i started to read Twilight and pretty much loved it (i'm easily pleased). it took me like three weeks to get through it which is pretty average for me (attention span..) but then when i picked up New Moon i could barely put it down. i read it in 4 days which is the fastest ive ever read a book by a looong shot. i kind of fell off with reading eclipse... it took me almost 2 whole months to get through which just shows.

i think in hindsight one of the reasons i actually love New Moon (book) more than the rest is that there isnt really a 'set in stone villain' (twilight has james, eclipse has the newborns//victoria, then BD has the volturi. i suppose edward is the only thing that could class as a villan that book but thats not my point i think i enjoyed it more because of the time we get to spend with bella and jacobs characters . . . (quick side note that i watched the movies after finishing the books and new moon has no justice i feel like it washes over the effect jacob had on bringing bella "back to life" so much. so upsetting)

anyhoodles. i think i enjoy Twilight to set up B&E, then New Moon to set up B&J, then as you say in the crit Eclipse just kind of forces you to choose. and it makes sense. after just watching the movies i cant see a way in hell anyone would be team jacob---but having read the books its a whole different story. but then again... smeyer.... yeah.

sorry this has been such a long ask and doesnt really have a question involved, feel free to not post a response as i understand it's long:')

as a last note while i think of it i think that Eclipse for me fell off in that i didnt particularly care about what it was doing. i liked reading about bella and edward in twilight and then bella and jacob in new moon and i just didnt really care for most of eclipse. but maybe thats because i fell in love with bella and jacob from new moon and then had the character sabotaged.. heavy sigh. i think it says a lot that ive had a fan art of bella and jacob walking along the beach as my phone wallpaper since i read new moon so that says it all really.

i apologise once again for the length of this. ---if you wanna see the fan art wallpaper ill find it and reblog it so its at the top of my page.

p(p?)s. i'm glad it's sunny there! it's rained here the last couple days :c

hello tiny writing human! glad to have you back :)

glad you liked the analysis! & the books. New Moon is my favorite too, & i definitely agree with you that part of the appeal is the internal struggle Bella faces. we do get Victoria in the background & the werewolves, but really the whole book is about Bella learning to cope with 1) being a human in a supernatural world 2) her grief of being alone [i.e. without Edward] in this new world. watching her pick up the pieces of her life & build something new & beautiful & imperfect with Jacob was cathartic & relatable - v much a triumph in a series so rooted in the fantastical.

& it's hard to watch Eclipse become this struggle between two boys. because really, it's not about Edward or Jacob. Bella's choice is about whether she wants to give up everything for this cold, "perfect," monstrous, immortal life; or, whether she wants to stick around & build something warm & human & imperfect & finite with Jacob.

by twisting Jacob's character from the symbols of sunshine & values of humanity he represents into a bad-boy supernatural love interest competing with Edward for Bella's affection, it erases some of the characterization that we have come to expect & love in Jacob. because when Meyer positions him as a love interest, he's not embodying the traits as a friend; he's embodying the traits of what Meyer thinks is formidable love interest and rival to Edward: confident, cocky, aggressive, persistent... Jacob becomes nothing more than a 2000s-era (& before) trope of how men in our society "should" act towards women. so, everything we came to knew about Jacob was morphed into this friend/lover hybrid that just didn't work for who he was. he is Jacob...but he is not our Jacob.

(& the movies did him even worse because the "slice of life" B/J scenes we get were mostly cut.)

anyway, thanks for coming back & letting me rant about one of my favorite characters & my fave book :)

#i'm keeping an eye peeled for the fanart :)#too bad about the rain but hopefully you get some sunshine soon!#cheers~#asks #edward cullen #jacob black

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bmwiid · 1 year

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As many of you know, mum died in December last year and I was like... I'm totally fine and shockingly okay with this. Like... out of sight, out of mind? Able to make jokes about it and laugh and moved on super quick and I only cried like... 10 times in all?

And sure, I am super depressed, but I was depressed before thats. And sure I gained a shit tonne of weight. And sure I stopped washing myself and cleaning my house and leaving the building and having panic attacks whenever I have to go somewhere thats outside, BUT I WAS FINE, OKAY? That wasn't cause of mum, that was just me being lazy and a shit person and... and... well fuck. Maybe I'm not coping so well.

There is a read more but it's just word vomit and helps no one.

Recently I've been having a lot of dreams about mum. It's weird. I feel like I've come to grief BACKWARDS.

Like at first I was okay, and the longer she's gone, the worse I miss her. I feel more guilt now than I did when she died. I hear songs now that NEVER made me think of mum and now they do, and it makes me want to cry. I don't, because I don't cry over anything that isn't a movie or a really good daydream these days, but I feel that rising waterline in my throat.

I think, the longer she's dead, the less I'm angry at her for all the shit she put me through. I'm less mad at her giving up, and I'm less mad about how hard she made loving her. Thats sort of faded away now, leaving me with just... missing her and guilt.

She loved me, fully and completely and without boundaries.

But that doesn't mean she was a GOOD mum. She was dependent, selfish, self absorbed, fatalistic, lazy, greedy and blind to anything not connected to her.

She forgot my 21st birthday. She got herself in debt and expected me to get her out of it. When I turned 35 she didn't call me to say happy birthday because I didn't call her first. in fact, she didn't pick up the phone to call me ever - and when I called her, she'd have a list of things I needed to do for her. She expected me to put her before myself in every instance.

When we lived together I bathed her, brushed her hair, at 12 years old I was inserting catheters until I had to beg her to get a nurse to do it because I felt so gross. I pushed her wheelchairs - BOUGHT her wheelchairs she never used. I took out loans to get her house decorated and to buy a car she could actually sit in, big enough for her wheelchair. I was expected to spend my bonus on things she wanted. Getting her to DO anything for herself was an uphill battle and more often than not, I just gave in because she'd promise to do it and then... never did. A million little things over and over and over again that hurt and sucked and just drained me of energy and time and now SHES GONE.

She's been gone for almost a year and all those things are still true, but they seem further and further away now.

I should have resented her less.

I should have hugged her more.

#personal

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vincent-sinclair-deserved-better · 1 year

Text

You won't go lonely into this fight, if you just hold me we will survive

Characters: Ghost, Doe Eyes, Baby

Words: 2321

Content warnings: Christianity, religious trauma/guilt

divider by firefly-graphics

After I had talked to Otis and seen Blinky leave, I was about to pick back up what I’d been doing when that woman had arrived, but just as I was about to start taking down the curtains, Manon came up to me. “Hey Selena, how are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m okay,” I replied, just quickly glancing over my shoulder, “Why are you asking?”

“You just seemed a little... out of it earlier. But I guess it makes sense if the situation overwhelmed you,” she continued, “Also... you obviously don’t have to explain yourself, but I still wanted to ask what you meant when you said you ‘roughed Blinky’s mum up a little’?”

I shrugged. “Uhm, you know. This and that. Didn’t want to get into Otis’ way, so I mostly fell back on my own experiences. I thought it would affect me more than this, but I’m feeling okay. Seeing Blinky so upset and then hearing what their mother said just made me really angry, and I wanted to hurt her. It was a little strange, but it worked out.”

“You... know that sometimes it can take a while for those kinds of experiences to actually start affecting you in a more negative fashion?” Manon said, and I finally turned to face her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, some people hit a sort of low as soon as the adrenaline decreases again. After their first time killing someone, Blinky got really distant and needed some time alone for a while, but Otis kept an eye on them to make sure they were alright. Some people apparently start to feel really guilty or panic. And that kinda stuff can happen immediately, or hit some time later. It’s difficult to predict,” she explained.

I thought about this for a moment, before responding, “I mean, right now I’m okay. And if something changes... I’ll just have to deal with it, I guess.”

“Do you mind if I just stay around? I don’t want to hover or monitor your actions, but I’d feel better if I knew there was someone around in case you get upset,” she said, fidgeting with her rings, “And I could help with the curtains. I’m done with the other laundry anyway, and cleaning these can be quite a... chore.”

“That is true,” I replied, smiling at what I figured had been a pun, “I think the drapes from the living room probably won’t fit the washing machine. The kitchen curtains should be fine if you put them into... a pillow case?”

Manon nodded. “Yeah, that seems about right. We’ll have to check the materials and if they have any labels with instructions, but other than the living room everything should be fit for the washing machine.”

“What about that... show room, with the stage? It’s got big drapes as well, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah, it does,” she said, “I’ll have to ask if it’s even possible to take those down, and then we’ll have to see how best to wash them.”

“In the convent we only ever washed things by hand,” I commented, “But I don’t think that even together we’d manage both those and the living room ones.”

She sighed. “Well, let’s get started then. The sooner we begin, the sooner we’ll be done.”

Unsurprisingly, I did end up “hitting my low”, though it was only after all the work had been done, dinner served, and a movie. Manon had even managed to convince me to take a shower. But once I was in bed, alone with my thoughts, it was like the world came crashing down on me, guilt over what I had done and fear of what it meant for my soul like weights crushing my chest. And, completely unexpected, quiet anger and... grief?

It wasn’t only about today’s happenings, but the past as well. Somehow all the talk had managed to let memories resurface that I had completely forgotten about. The helplessness I had felt whenever someone else had been mistreated, the anger and hurt over my parents despising me while doting on my siblings. The constant fear of doing something wrong and getting punished. Longing for a normal life, to be loved, to be different.

I’d been told that I was bad, evil by nature, and only here had people managed to make me feel normal. Like, maybe, there was nothing wrong with me and I had been lied to. Yet, what the family was doing was wrong and bad, evil, and today I had given into those dark urges – so maybe Reverend Lael and my parents and the priest and nuns had been right all along? What if there was a heaven and hell, and I had completely doomed my soul? Then again, the Sisters had said that I was beyond salvation anyway, so did it really matter?

A knock on my door startled me and tore me from my thoughts.

“Ghost? You still awake?” came Baby’s voice from the hall.

“I- yeah, I am. Come in.”

She opened the door with unusual gentleness, normally she didn’t care much for how much noise she made, even in the middle of the night. “Doe Eyes mentioned that you had your first... outburst today, and was all concerned that you might end up feeling bad. She’d asked me to ask you to sleep in my room, buuut I kinda forgot.”

“But just now RJ came back from apparently walking the dog, whyever he felt the need to do that in the middle of the night, and woke me up to give me more details. He didn’t right out say that he’s worried, but he also pointed out how well you’ve seemingly taken it, and we all know that’s not usually how things work.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, and Baby reached for the light switch before changing her mind. “You still got that candle and lighter over there?”

“Yeah.”

“You mind making some light? If not, I will,” she stated and I sighed, lighting the candle.

Baby just stared at me for a moment. “Wow, you look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks Baby, you flatter me.”

She huffed. “No, I mean, like... you literally look like a ghost, and it’s not just the lighting. Really pale, even for your standards, and just. I don’t know. More like Ghost we met weeks ago, who was all caught in her head and unhealthy thought patterns.”

“I’ll be fine.,” I said, trying to brush her concerns off, but she clearly wasn’t buying it. Without any further questions, she stepped into the room, closed the door, and plopped down on the bed.

The way she looked at me was scrutinising, and I felt like she could see right through every and any wall I had built around my true thoughts and feelings.

“Alright, out with it. What’s bothering you?” she said, though it felt more like and order than a question. “I’m not gonna judge you or anything, but if I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, I can’t help you.”

I let myself fall back onto my pillow. “What if there is no way to help me? What if I am beyond saving?”

“Oh no, it really is that religious shit again, isn’t it?”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m trying not to... think like this, but. It’s just-”

“I don’t understand why I am like this; I don’t really judge you or think badly of you all. I don’t worry about your souls or think you’re going to hell. It’s like, in my head, those concepts just don’t apply to you. But when it comes to me it’s just like... like everything they said is true. Like maybe I am evil.”

Baby crawled up the bed and laid down next to me, propping her head up on her hand so she could look at me. “They really left an impression on you, huh?”

I chuckled. “Twenty-four years of being constantly told there’s something integrally wrong with you can do that, I suppose.”

“Aw shit, you’re right,” she said, “They've been feeding you that crap all your life.”

“M-hm.”

“You know, I’m not good with comforting, especially not when it comes to all this religious stuff, but here’s what I think,” she began, sounding surprisingly serious, and when I looked over her expression matched. “From what I’ve heard that woman is an absolutely disgusting piece of shit who doesn’t deserve to be called mother, and deserves everything both you and Otis have put her through so far. Like, if anything, this is justice or something. And even still you’re one of the... best people here, when it comes to ‘sins’ and stuff. Like, in comparison to everyone else you might as well be a saint.”

“Manon hasn’t hurt or killed anyone so far though,” I added.

“Pff, so what? She’s done other stuff that’d probably be considered sinful, while you’ve been nothing but a proper Christian girl,” she said, “At the very least she’s been doing naughty stuff with Otis while you’re a pure innocent virgin.”

I blushed furiously at that. On the one hand because Baby talked so freely about such a shameful topic, on the other hand because I didn’t even know what she meant by “naughty stuff”, while she clearly expected me to know.

“What about all the things I said though, and the way I treated the rosary? I’m sure a lot of it was wrong and basically lies, and I am certain all of my actions could be seen as blasphemous-”

“So what? Who's gonna judge you? God? Cause then he better judge your nuns and all of those assholes as well,” Baby interrupted me, “You really think all of those pretentious, self-important clergy people always told the truth? Didn’t make up lies and stories just to intimidate and scare you into submission? Like that whole speech about albino people was one hundred percent made up, nothing holy or God-send in that. If he had any kind of vision he was probably on drugs.”

She was right. I knew she was – they Sisters and priests, everyone really, had constantly lied, and I had known. They'd made up ‘facts’ and contradicted each other, changing their stories for what best fit the situation.

“And about that rosary, didn’t you say something about just... recreating your own experiences or something?” she continued. “I know they beat and whipped you and whatnot, so I wouldn’t be surprised if there literally had been blood on that thing. If not that, then some other one. They do seem to love their symbolism after all.”

I hadn’t even noticed that I’d started to cry until Baby reached out and wiped some tears from my cheek. “Oh shit sweetie, I’m sorry, didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” I said shakily. “It’s just- you're right. That's why I used it. It had been used as a means to inflict pain and punish, they’d give me lashing, burn me, or make me pray for hours until my knees bruised. There is nothing sacred about it. They tainted it long before I could, if using a rosary to hurt others is blasphemy, then they are much worse than I could ever be.”

Baby pulled me against her chest and started to soothingly rub my back.

“I was just a child,” I whispered, voice breaking on the last word. “I just wanted to be good enough, but nothing I did sufficed. The only gift I ever received was turned into an implement of torture, that’s what its intention had been from the beginning. They never wanted to fix or help me, only hurt and punish. No one was sent to the convent to find redemption; it is nothing but a prison. No one escapes.”

“You did, though,” Baby said softly, “And though we may not be good people, no one here’s gonna hurt you. Or allow anyone else to. We protect our own, okay? And you’re family now.”

I held onto her as if she’d just disappear if I let go for even just a second. “You mean it?”

She huffed a laugh. “Of course, I mean it. Blinky chose you, you apparently even managed to win RJ over – and he doesn’t even like Doe Eyes or Blinky. Mama adores you too, even more so now that you’ve taken it upon yourself to clean those damn curtains. Hell knows no one else here would have wanted to.”

“Okay then,” I said, feeling much calmer than before Baby had come by.

“You think you’ll be able to sleep now?” she asked, pushing my hair back so she could see my face.

“I... yeah, I guess. I’m definitely feeling better,” I replied, playing with the edge of the blanket. “I- I’m sorry, not trying to be weird or anything, but can you maybe stay for a little longer? Just till I’ve fallen asleep?”

Baby laughed at that, but it didn’t sound mean or mocking. “’course I’ll stay, you think you’re getting rid of me that easily? Just lemme grab another blanket and pillow from my room.”

“Okay,” I said with a relieved smile. She jumped up from the bed and ran out of the room, only to return seconds later with her own blanket and at least three pillows.

“Scoot,” she instructed me before depositing her stuff on the bed. “Let’s get some rest now, and maybe tomorrow we can check out what Otis has done to that miserable excuse of a person if you want.”

I grinned, “Sounds fun.”

“See, that’s the right attitude,” she said, before turning to blow out the candle, “And Ghost? You can always come to me if something’s bothering you, okay? Don’t let those stupid thoughts mess with your head.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind,” I responded as the room was shrouded in darkness once again. “Thank you.”

@immortal-velociraptor @myers-meadow

tfw the hand-holding dividers looks adorable but are hardly discernable in regular dark mode x.x

#cylas writes #ghost firefly #selena firefly #manon driftwood #manon doe eyes driftwood

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yourdreamsyourwish-2 · 1 year

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youtube

I Just Wanted You to Know

Word Count: 1,840

This is told in Yixing’s POV. I thought it fit well with the story.

Trigger Warning: Depression, Alcoholism, Grief and Child Death (Talking about it).

In the movies whenever someone is sad or feeling like life isn’t worth living anymore, it’s cloudy or almost constant rain. However, as I gazed outside the window, all I saw was sunlight with bright blue skies as if it was mocking my existence in a way. The world is happy, yet you're not.

“Yixing.” My therapist calls my name, for I don’t know how many times. I glance over, looking at him, without actually seeing.

“I’m sorry, what did you ask?” I clarified, picking at a small skin that had come off at one of my nails.

“Have you been to an AA meeting yet? Or at least tired?” I glanced down at the scab, now a fresh drop of blood smeared over my skin.

“I sat in the back, I didn’t talk or anything.”

“But you went, so that’s an improvement.” I nod, looking at his degree hanging on the wall to the right. The sun bounced off the glass causing a ray of light that bounced around the room almost like a crystal. If I looked hard enough I could see a rainbow in the beam.

“Yixing.” He said again softly. I flashed back to him, his smile still on his face, always on, always caring.

“I’m sorry, my mind is…”

“I understand, addiction is hard at every stage. I just asked, ‘How are you girls?’”

“My girls?” I felt the urge to pull out my wallet and look at the family photo, to see them if only for a second. My peace, my world, the reason I’m still able to wake up. They shouldn’t be the only reason, which is why I’m here. That is too big of a burden for them, too heavy a load to carry for the rest of their lives.

“I talked to them last night on the phone of course. Their mom…I got to talk to her for a bit as well. She sounds…I miss seeing them everyday, but I understand.”

“They are still at your in-laws?” I nod, working on another bed of a nail.

“It’s better for them, until I can get some control. I’m not violent, never have been, I’m just…it’s not good for them to see me like this. If it was just ____ and I, she would be with me, but it’s not just us. It’s the five-” I stop talking, the image of my girls flashing in my eyes, before I shake my head. I could feel the wave of grief washing over me with each breath I took in. “Four…it’s just the four of us.”

“Still not working?”

“Work gave me another extension, I won’t need to go back to teaching until next year. Tenure and all that, besides the temporary candidate might join as well. He’s proving to be a very good professor.” Silence fell over us, as he seemingly began to write something down.

“You know you can talk about it if you want.”

“She’s dead, no matter what I say will bring her back.”

“It will help for you to-”

“I think we’re done for the day are we not?”

“You still have 15 more minutes.” He replied back. “We can talk about something else now.” I nod, wanting to clear my head of her smile. “But I do want you to know, this will always be a safe place for you to open up.” I nod, wipe away the tears that came out.

“I think Wrexham might move to another league, don't you?” The conversation changed to soccer, a sport I feel comfortable with, something that I can focus on, focus on the ball, focus on the goal at hand. Just stop thinking, stop thinking, and for the next 15 minutes, I stopped thinking.

🖤🖤🖤

The house is too quiet when I enter. I lay my takeout on the kitchen counter, my eyes going to the giant bottle of whiskey. The empty bottles of vodka and wine littered the counter top near the recycling bin. Three boxes of beer empty, I couldn’t remember the last time I took out the recycling or the trash. Was it last week, or the week before?

Sighing, I felt the itch at the back of my throat to pour myself a drink, to give in, to not feel, to stop thinking again. Leaving the food on the counter, I go upstairs, feeling my phone vibrate, with a message from my wife. Our picture together flashes behind her message, the five of us, all happy and smiling. My eyes are only on her in the photo. Our last family portrait, even though we didn’t know it would be the last.

I got to the top of the stairs, my gaze falling to the left where my daughters' rooms were all laid out. It was a right turn to our suite, yet I found myself standing in front of her door. The name is draped in purple, with different shades for each letter.

“I want purple! Purple!” Her voice rang in my ears, seemingly echoing off the walls as she cheered for the color. My hand shook as I opened up the door, allowing it to reveal the untouched room. Nothing has changed since the morning we had left to go to the park. Nothing at all, it stayed exactly the same as we had left it. ____, couldn’t even go into the room anymore. Even after the accident, my wife had the strength I couldn’t. So many times I found her in a ball on the couch crying after the girls had gone to sleep. They slept in our bed for the longest time, barely able to come to this side of the hallway. My eyes danced around the room, hearing her tiny voice at each passing glance.

“Bàba! Look! Anna is about to be Queen!” the Frozen 2 DVD laid on the ground, next to her Finding Nemo. I knew if I looked in the receiver I would find Encanto. It had been her latest obsession, one we had to buy for her DVD TV we had gotten her on her fifth birthday. In the back of our closet, sat her sixth birthday gift, a small how to sew kit with a child's machine. Looking at her small bean bag chair, I saw the outfit she had me help choose.

“All the other girls will be wearing pink. Mama said Purple is royal, and you always call me princess, so Purple it is!” She cheered, with the purple sundress she was to wear to classes the following week. Everything, Everything in this room haunts me, now. Yet there was no getting rid of it, no touching it. I couldn’t even take a step inside without feeling like the world was going to cave in. Her giggle echoed as I shut the door, trying to lock my own grief away if only for another moment.

I made my way back down, my eyes landing on the bottle of Whiskey. I grab a glass, no longer bothering with ice, pretending I don’t have a problem. I wanted to drown, I wanted to stop thinking, stop hearing. I brought the glass up, tears now falling freely, no longer hiding my anguish from myself. My eyes caught the swing in the background, a memory from before, flashed in my head.

“Why is Zŭfù sad?” My four year old asked. I picked her up, holding her on my lap, while we swung a little. I gazed at my father through the glassdoors. He sat on our couch, holding my mothers jade bracelet he had gotten her on their wedding day.

“Zŭfù is missing Nǎinai.”

“Are you sad as well Bàba?” Her voice echoed. I still haven’t gotten out of my mourning clothes. ____ had taken our other two girls to pick up dinner for us. I nodded, trying to keep from crying in front of her. Her hand came up and wiped away a tear.

“Don’t be sad Bàba. Nǎinai always made me smile.” It was simple logic for her. It came so easy. “Nǎinai told me, when I feel sad, to smile.” Her arms wrapped my neck, while I silently cried to her shoulder. Standing up, I smiled at her, blinking away tears.

“Come on, I bet, Zŭfù would like the company right now.” She nodded, holding onto me, as we went to comfort my father.

Her toothy grin flashed in my mind. I gazed down at the golden tint of liquid in the glass before throwing it in the sink. It shattered at the contact of the metal. Grabbing the bottle I poured the rest of it down the drain, not thinking as I moved on to the wine. As each bottle went down and down, I kept pouring all of it, until I knew there was nothing left. Our island was covered in empty bottles, nothing left for me to find, nothing left for me to drown in. Going outback, I grab the recycling bin, filling it up with every bottle left before placing it back outside. Ignoring the food on the counter, I run and grab my car keys.

🖤🖤🖤

I hesitated when I knocked on the door. My mother-in-law had always been kind to me, even though what was happening. When she answered, my eyes looked red from tears, while she merely smiled and gave me a big hug.

“It’s about time.” She whispered, patting my back.

“I’m sorry it took so long.” She nodded, before nodding to the stairs. “Third door on the right.” She gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

“No need to apologize. I’m sure ____ won’t stand for it either.” I run up the stairs, taking two at a time before opening the door. I see you, lying there next to our two daughters fast asleep. I pause staring at you, wondering what you would do, what you would say. I haven’t physically seen you in what feels like a lifetime, but probably was only a few weeks. One heartbeat later, you were in my arms, clinging to me for dear life. Silently crying into my shoulder, while I hugged you tightly.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper, kissing your forehead, your temple, anywhere I can find.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you.”

“No, this was something I had to do alone.” I kissed you, deeply feeling the wave of emotions. Grief, anxiety, regret, love. It was a mix bag with each passing wave.

“Yixing-” You look up at me, with those beautiful eyes.

“We can talk tomorrow. Over breakfast. I’m not going anywhere.” You nod, kissing me again. She pulls me over to the bed, waking up the girls, slowly.

“Bàba!” they start to yell, jumping up on me for hugs. I wrap them both in a tight embrace, keeping them together. I kissed both of their heads, holding them tighter, while I felt you kiss my own.

Again in this moment, I stop thinking and in the next I begin to feel alive once more.

🖤🖤🖤

Dictionary According to Google Translate:

Zŭfù - means Grandfather in Mandarin Nǎinai - means grandmother in Mandarin Bàba - Means father in Mandarin

Swift Classic Masterlist

Masterlist

#EXO #exo fanfic #fanfic #EXO Yixing #EXO Lay #Yixing #Lay #Swift classics #Youtube

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