#never more depressed than when im thinking about the fact that i will never hold him

[non-lethal-headshot]

His Eminence

#rygel #farscape #i love him okay #never more depressed than when im thinking about the fact that i will never hold him

[roosterr]

i've known war

john 'soap' mactavish x gn!reader wc: 9.3k (whoops) summary: you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. warnings: established relationship, angst and sadness and depression, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, graphic description of injury, mentions of torture, eventual happy ending, military and medical inaccuracies, pls ignore any plot holes i beg

requested here! follow up to love you from afar, but can be read as a standalone. im so sorry this took me so long to write lmao.

it always feels like the first time when you kiss him. even now, years down the line, the sparks, the warmth, the daze that you leave him in; he truly believes it will never get old.

the way you look, standing in the open doorway of the helicopter, silhouetted against the bright blue sky, it makes his head feel so fuzzy he almost forgets why you're all here in the first place.

it's the sweet sound of his name passing your lips that pulls him back to the present, your voice sending his stomach fluttering.

"earth to johnny," you chuckle, turning to face him and resting your weight against one side of the open door, "what're you thinking so hard about?"

he can't help the smile that breaks out at the sound of your laughter. "just you." johnny replies, closing the small distance between you and snaking an arm around your waist. you smile as he leans in closer, murmuring low in your ear, "and, how i cannae wait to get ye home."

you laugh again, placing a hand on his chest but not quite pushing him back. "we've got a job to do first."

he takes your hand in his, running his thumb over your knuckles. "then we'd better get a move on, eh?"

"i'll race you," you grin at him, haloed by the light of the sun so beautifully he has to snap himself out of his reverence to respond.

"oh, you're on." 

perhaps it was slightly irresponsible the way he was rushing the others along for his own gain, but within a matter of minutes they're breaching the facility and well on their way to being done with this.

it's only when he's stalking along a dimly lit corridor that he slows down. something was bothering him, an off feeling in the back of his mind that he just can't ignore.

before he can think about it any further, a boom shakes the walls, filling the air with dust and obscuring his vision even more. it was close enough to start a faint ringing in his ears, coming from back the way he came; where he'd split up with ghost and, more importantly, you.

he should stay on target, continue with what they're here to do, his job – but what if you were in trouble? if there's a chance you need his help, he couldn't risk it. it takes less than a second for him to turn back, making the decision to check on what caused the explosion before continuing.

quietly stalking back down the corridor, it takes him slightly longer to register the fact that he hasn't heard anything over the radio; no updates, no clever remarks from ghost, nothing. they worked not fifteen minutes ago, just after you'd split up and checked them. surely nothing could've happened in such a short space of time?

he does his best to push through the sinking feeling that tries to drag him down, but it's stubborn, creeping in from the corners of his mind.

he reaches where he left you in half the time it took him to walk away, the intersection of two corridors just as empty as the rest of the halls. he points his flashlight in the direction you went, and the feeling in his gut gets worse.

something glinting in the light catches his attention. the end of the corridor is collapsed, when it definitely hadn't been before, but it's what lies in front of the rubble that he zeroes in on. partially obscured by the layer of filth and blood coating it, there's no mistaking it when he kneels down, dropping his rifle to the ground beside him, and carefully takes the metal in his trembling hand.

it's a pair of id tags.

he numbly calls your name. it bounces off the walls and echoes back to him. the blood runs through the creases of his hand, staining the flesh. the letters of your name are clear through the dirt.

no. you can't be gone.

he looks up to the rubble, shrouded in darkness, back down to your tags, back up to the rubble, and there's a hand just visible under the concrete that looks sickeningly like yours and–

he tears his gaze away, back down to your tags. the chain is snapped, like it had been ripped off in a hurry, as if you'd known you were going to die and wanted to make sure he would find them–

no, no no. you're not dead. you can't be. he just saw you fifteen minutes ago, he bumped his helmet against yours in lieu of a kiss like he always did before you parted ways. you were fine and you were smiling at him. it was only fifteen minutes, you were right here, he can still hear your voice taunting him about the race between you, it was only fifteen minutes–

a heavy hand comes down on johnny's shoulder, startling him out of his panicked daze and instinctively he jumps up and swings his arm at whoever stuck up on him.

ghost catches his forearm easily, his eyes moving between your tags clutched in johnny's fist to the wreckage behind him. when he meets johnny's watery eyes again, the coldness in his gaze seems to soften as he arrives at the same conclusion.

the ringing in johnny's ears hasn't left. in fact, it's gotten worse.

"we– we gotta find 'em," johnny's breath comes out shallow and ragged, the panic slowly rising in his chest through the initial numbness. "fucks sake, they cannae– we– we–"

"johnny." ghost interrupts his sputtering short, bracing both hands on his biceps and giving him a gentle, grounding shake. "...come on."

"no! simon we–" his breath catches in his throat, heart constricting painfully beneath his sternum as he grips the front of ghost's vest in desperation. why was ghost giving up so easily? didn't he care? didn't he want to find you?

ghost lowers his gaze, tearing away from the distraught expression on the sergeant's face. "they're gone, soap."

"shut the fuck up!" johnny growls, despair seeping into his voice with every second that passes without you. he tries to shake ghost's hands off, but he doesn't budge. "ye dinnae ken that! they're still here somewhere, we cannae leave without 'em!"

he's gripping your tags like a lifeline, the metal searing against his palm and heavier than anything else he'd ever carried. he shouldn't have them, they shouldn't be in his hand, they should be around your neck, you should be here, with him, and not…

it's too much. his knees give out from under him and, despite ghost's firm grip on his shoulders, he sinks to the floor with his head in his hands.

"simon, fuck– please…" it's a whisper, under his breath, but he knows ghost heard from how he crouches down beside him, laying an arm over his heaving shoulders as he steadily begins to sob.

it's not real. it can't be real. he wants this to be a nightmare so fucking badly, but the pain in his chest is far too real, his tears burning tracks down his face, the weight of your absence pressing down on him and crushing him under the pressure.

he barely notices when price and gaz appear in the hall ahead of them, just about registering the sound of the debris crunching under their boots as they approach. the pair don't say anything as they take in the scene, looking down with furrowed brows at where johnny and ghost are crouched on the floor.

the captain opens his mouth to ask, but ghost cuts him of with a solemn shake of his head.

words are exchanged, but johnny doesn't hear them. his head feels impossibly light, an expanding pressure beneath his temples that makes it hard to think. the ringing keeps getting worse.

the sound of gunfire makes it through the fog. gaz and ghost each take one of his arms, hauling him to his feet and essentially dragging him after the captain as they make their way back out of the building. he can't bring himself to fight them. he blinks, and finds himself strapped into his seat, the one next to him hauntingly empty.

price is talking into the radio, to laswell he assumes, but johnny doesn't register anything he says – anything except the last two words:

"...one k.i.a."

the air is thick with a kind of tension he's never felt before, a shroud of numbness that he can't seem to shake. when they land it follows them, seeping into the air on base and pushing down on whoever crosses their path. none of them have to ask to understand what happened.

johnny keeps your tags, clutches them close to his heart, and practically bites the head off of anyone who tries to take them from his white-knuckled grip, even as he gets checked out in the medical wing. his quietness puts the medics on edge, he can tell. something about the way he doesn't even flinch when they cleanse his wounds, the polar opposite to his his usual talkative nature, it tells them there's no use trying to console him. they try to convince him to let the tags go, but he doesn't acknowledge their words.

the broken chain stays firmly wrapped around his palm until he's staring down his own hollow face in the bathroom mirror. he'd turned the sink on fifteen minutes ago to wash the blood away, the water so hot it fogs up his reflection, but he can't bring himself to put his hands under the stream.

because it's your blood, not just the usual grime from missions. if he washes it off, he's washing you off, and he doesn't want to do that, no matter how disgusting it is.

there's a knock at the door, and only then does he realise how long he's been staring at the red that decorates his hands. he still makes no effort to move. 

despite his lack of response, gaz opens the door and meets his eyes in the mirror. there's a pause as he waits for johnny to say something, but when he only lets the silence go on, he takes it upon himself to approach.

"soap…" he utters, brows tilting in concern watching his friend continue to stare absently into the mirror. with a deep sigh, kyle takes his empty fist and pries his fingers from his palm. johnny's eyes gravitate to the fresh blood that wells up in the crescent indents. watching the red droplets fall, disappearing into the running water, the pain finally registering in his mind when kyle presses a cloth to his hand.

the sting of the hot water is there, a distant feeling as johnny allows him to wash the blood away, never saying a word as he watches kyle's efforts, like an observer of his own form, right there but looking in from the outside.

kyle reaches for your tags, but his fingers barely brush the metal before johnny is shoving him back with a rush of anger that happens so fast he doesn't even have time to process his own reaction.

with a thud, kyle's back hits the wall and for a moment neither of them dare move. they watch each other in silence, wide-eyed shock mirrored in both their expressions.

"i…" i'm sorry. the words catch in his chest, falling into the void there and never escaping for gaz to hear. he can't let him touch your tags. it's the only part of you he has left. "...don't touch 'em."

kyle squeezes his eyes shut, breathing a deep sigh through his nose. "alright, i'm sorry, i won't touch them." his tone is low and careful as he steps closer again, hands open so johnny can see them. he feels like a feral animal, being coaxed to let kyle approach. "but you need to rest, mate."

the weeks blend together after that day. some days johnny feels like the shock will never wear off, like he's living on autopilot. others, it all comes crashing down on him and even dragging himself out of bed becomes a challenge.

his dreams are plagued with images of you, lifeless and cold. it stops him from sleeping most nights, but others are filled with memories of your life together playing on loop, a constant reminder of what he can never have again.

the room you used to share is always filled with flowers; gardenias, gladioli, forget-me-nots, and anything else he sees that he thinks you'd like. when they wilt, and eventually die, he presses the petals in the pages of his sketchbook, keeping them in a box next to the very first flowers he ever got you, the memories preserved forever under your – his bed.

that same sketchbook that's filled with page after page of your image, some from the multitude of pictures he keeps of you, and when he inevitably runs out of references, he draws you from memory. it gets to the point where he can't pick up a pencil without your face haunting him; you always did love his art, even if he didn't think it was any good.

he knows he's not the only one taking it hard. the others are different too; gaz is quieter, something more serious in his eyes now. the captain doesn't appear moved on the surface, and neither does ghost, but when they look at the empty seat where you used to sit, the memory of you is evident in the way their shoulders deflate ever so slightly.

once word spreads about what exactly happened, the never-ending condolences and pitying looks from the people around base gets old very quickly. they tell him how they're so sorry for his loss and what happened to you was so tragic, and it shouldn't annoy him as much as it does, but he can't help the anger that bubbles up in his chest when they talk about you.

he doesn't want to hear it, and every time he has to listen to their pitying comments it only makes him resent them more. they didn't know you, they didn’t care, they probably didn't even know who you were before you died. they could never hope to understand what you meant to him, to the taskforce, the gap in their team that you left behind.

it's when someone suggests moving on from you that it all finally bubbles over.

six months later, a long time since that day but somehow no time at all. he'd gone out for drinks for the first time in a while, after some gentle coercion from simon, along with another group of soldiers staying on base.

he didn't even want to go, not really, but something in him knew he couldn't carry on like he had been. he needed some form of normalcy, one night where he can pretend everything is fine and you're just waiting for him back home, to just forget.

it didn't take him long to realise going out with them was a mistake. almost immediately he was dragged into a conversation with a few guys from another unit, and despite his many attempts they just wouldn't leave him be.

somehow, after about an hour of mindless chatter, they land on the topic of their love lives and recent conquests, and johnny immediately felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. he wanted to slip away, avoid what he knew was coming at any cost, but he couldn't get away fast enough.

one of them brings up your name, they all look to him with a sort of curiosity that makes his skin crawl. they ask him if he's planning on staying hung up on you forever. johnny says it's only been six months. one of them laughs and tells him it's just sad, and from the looks of it you weren't anything special.

johnny smashes a glass over his head. price benches him for a few weeks after that.

it's hell, being left behind, alone, while the others went on like usual, and truthfully he starts to resent them all, bit by bit from the first time he's left on the tarmac. it felt like they didn't care, that johnny's heart, his life, his soul has changed but they carried on without looking back once. he isolates and shuts them out in a fit of misplaced anger, building the walls around his heart higher and higher and letting that resentment fester.

the day of your funeral brings it all crashing down. after all those months of waiting, johnny didn't even make it more than five lines into the speech he'd prepared before he's breaking down and stumbling out the side door in a hyperventilating mess. simon follows behind like his shadow, sitting down with him when he slides down the wall with a hand clutching his chest. he cries into simon's shoulder for rest of the service, releasing all the pent up anguish he'd been trying to keep inside in a catharsis he didn't realise he needed. 

when they get back to base the next morning, johnny’s practically begging to be allowed back in the field. he found himself missing the chaos, the unpredictability of the battlefield was where he was in his element. this job was how you met, how you got together, how you lived. he never felt closer to you than when he was out in the field with adrenaline pumping through his veins.

it takes some convincing, but price gives in and everything feels like it's back to normal. missions are quieter than they'd ever been, but johnny finds it doesn't bother him anymore. he feels your presence by his side like the sun on his back, always with him, like his guardian angel.

it's six more months before anything changes.

in the back of the helicopter, a few minutes out from the landing site, an oddly comforting sense of déjà vu washes over him. the bright blue expanse of the sky, the warmth of the sun on his skin, he almost feels that if he turned to his left, he'd see you sitting there with that same smile lighting up your face.

his fingers tighten around your tags.

"you watchin', bonnie?" he presses his lips to the cool metal, feeling your name under his skin as he mumbles to himself. his gaze finds the roof of the helicopter, and even without looking he knows the others are watching him, that familiar solemn look on their faces.

they were doing this for you. everything johnny did was for you. he puts your tags safely away in the pocket if his vest closest to his heart.

the helicopter jolts as it lands, and with no more than a second's hesitation he's shooting up from his seat, a renewed energy flooding his body to the tips of his fingers. they step out into the biting air, a chill than not even the afternoon sun could stave off, and quickly begin their march into the small facility.

"you two, take that side. gaz, with me." price commands, and with a sharp nod from the three of them, they split up and begin their canvassing. they were here for intel, but there was no guarantee they were alone, despite the emptiness of the halls they move through.

their footsteps echo off the walls, only the distant howling of the wind outside to accompany them. the hairs on the back of johnny's neck were on end, an unease setting off alarm bells in the back of his mind following behind ghost.

the déjà vu from earlier isn't comforting anymore. he doesn't feel you watching over him, and the feeling only gets stronger as they approach a doorway ahead, bathed in a red light.

ghost pauses in the entrance, looking back at johnny and waiting for his affirming nod before pushing forward. the room is empty, the same as the rest of the building, save for the table sitting against the far wall.

there's something else there, he notices as he creeps closer to get a better look. a frown darkens his expression. it's a laptop, untouched and central on the table, a strange contrast to the almost methodical emptiness around it.

"oi, check this." johnny calls, turning around as ghost stalks over with a similar confusion on his face.

"that what we're here for?" he asks, examining the laptop with a deep frown casting shadow over his eyes.

"looks like it." johnny replies, slowly and carefully picking it up as his frown deepens. he was half expecting it to somehow blow up, but when he lifts the screen it lights up to the desktop with no issue. "that's convenient."

"very convenient..." ghost grunts, jerking his head in the direction of the door and speaking into the radio as he walks ahead of johnny. "price, we've got it. headin' to exfil now."

back on base a few hours later, the four of them with the addition of laswell sit around the table in a meeting room with the doors firmly shut, eyes locked onto the laptop with rapt tension as gaz opens the only file they could recover from the device.

the video starts abruptly with 'the mask' – the pretentious alias of man that heads the organisation they've been steadily eliminating all this time – in front of the camera, the dingy room behind him barely lit, the walls splattered with what johnny could only assume was blood.

"i trust that my message has found you well, task force one-four-one." his voice comes through the speakers, crackly and distorted by the low quality recording. "you have been relentless in your pursuit of us, and i applaud you for your efforts, but it's time to put an end to this."

johnny looks back at price, watching as his expression hardens and his fingers dig into his arms where they're crossed over his chest. it's obvious they've been set up, but it's too late to be concerned with that now. the problem now is how they're going to continue knowing the enemy has information on them that they shouldn't have.

the sound of something being dragged brings his attention back to the video, facing the screen again to see another masked man dumping a person with a bag over their head onto a chair in the centre of the room.

"i have something i believe you will be interested in." the chuckle is audible in his voice even beneath the mask and through the screen.

their wrists and ankles are tied together, and if it weren't for the laboured rise and fall of their chest, johnny wouldn't be sure if they were even alive.

"fuck– a hostage?" price spits, and even without looking he knows laswell is already working on finding a location, if the sound of her rapidly typing is any indication.

"something very… precious to you."

the figure moves to stand behind the person in the chair and yanks the bag from their head. he grabs their jaw and forces them to look up, a sickening laugh meeting johnny's ears as they make eye contact with the camera. 

it's…

it's you.

you're beaten and bruised and covered head to toe in blood, but it's undoubtedly you when the faceless man yanks your head up.

johnny's sure his heart stops.

you're alive. you've been alive all this time. in the hands of a terrorist, and within an inch of your life, but…

you're alive.

"drop your investigation of us, and i will let them live." the masked man stalks back around to your side, still holding your jaw in a vice grip. the way you cower, as much as you can with that man's filthy hands on you, it breaks something in johnny. how long have you been in their hands, how long have you been abused by them?

how long have you been waiting for him?

he feels sick to his stomach, but he can't tear his eyes away. the lacerations on your face, the endless bruises littering your skin – when he spots the ones around your neck, he has to swallow down the bile – and how you just seem so tired, barely even fighting to keep your eyes open.

the masked man looks down to you again, pausing as he directs you to look at him through what seems like a black eye. the five of them watch, frozen by shock or anger or both, as the man rears his hand back and slaps you across the face so hard your head whips in the other direction. a pained, defeated sound escapes you, and johnny’s sure a knife to the chest would hurt less.

"do not disappoint me, captain price, or your sergeant will regret it."

the video cuts to black.

the sight of your face is burned into johnny's retinas, every time he blinks your features are there, dripping in your own blood, the only thing he can see.

"kate, tell me you can find this." price growls behind him, his words sounding distant to johnny's ears.

she hums distractedly. "working on it."

their conversation doesn't register, floating in one ear and straight out the other. you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. it's like his prayers have been answered for once in his life, and it may be some cruel trick from god to find you like this but johnny finds himself praying his thanks anyway.

"johnny…?" simon lays a hand on his shoulder, turning him in his chair to make worried eye contact with his shell-shocked expression. it jolts him out of his thoughts, the energy of the room a controlled kind of frantic as he comes back down to earth.

"that's– it's them, they're–" johnny sputters, gripping ghost's forearm with an absent desperation in his glassy eyes, "simon, they're alive."

he can't stop thinking about how empty your expression looked, the way you didn't have any fight left, and the gravity of what's been happening to you since the moment he lost you slowly creeps up on him.

have you given up hope of them finding you?

"we'll get 'em back, soap, listen to me," price drops a heavy, grounding hand on his other shoulder, halting his spiralling train of thought, "they're comin' home." his voice is resolute, no room for argument where he speaks it almost like a command.

johnny can only nod. 

his head is still light as more rushed conversation happens around him. simon's hand is still on his shoulder, and that might be the only reason he hasn't completely fallen apart yet, but the thread is pulling taught enough to snap. his nails carve dents into his palms but he doesn't have the mind to unfurl them.

"sir, we've got a hit." gaz speaks up from where he's leaned over kate's shoulder, a determined glint in his eye when he meets the captain's gaze. johnny’s head snaps in his direction, his pulse quickening with every word that sparks new hope in his chest. "two hundred klicks northeast of where we found the laptop."

"good work, you two," price is pacing back and forth, scratching his beard with a calculating look on his face. they watch him for a moment, waiting for his command on what their next move will be, but johnny finds his patience wearing incredibly thin.

"the fuck we waitin' for? let's get out there'n go after the wee bastards!" he growls, his narrowed gaze darting between price and the others as he steadily grows more and more restless.

simon shakes his head from beside him, "hold your horses."

"this is delicate, we have to do this one right." price pauses, his eyes losing their hardness as he meets johnny's desperate face. "i know how much this means to you, but you're too close to this, soap."

the pause that follows that is so thick with tension it makes it hard to breath. a boiling type of rage bubbles up in his chest, extending to every trembling limb and turning his vision red. there was no way in hell he wasn't going to be there for you every step of the way when – not if – they rescued you.

"ye can get yersel' right tae fuck!" he spits, his face contorted with anger as he shoots up from his chair and points an accusatory finger at the captain. "that's too far, price, ye cannae keep me outta this!"

"johnny, sit down." simon warns, using the hand still on his shoulder to put some space between him and price, but johnny doesn't budge; this was far too important.

"yer aff yer heid, both of ye's! if ye won't let me come, i'll go mysel', ye fuckin' hear?" he growls, shaking free of simon's hand. his glare travels between him and price, hands wound into fists at his sides.

the air turns heavy as they stare each other down. if price thinks he'll back down on this, johnny would love nothing more than to prove him wrong.

he's moments away from meeting his fist to price's face when gaz stands up and gets between them. "that's his other half, sir. respectfully, he deserves to be part of this." he reasons, giving price a firm look and a small nod to johnny. "you'd be the same in his position."

the tension is palpable. he watches  over gaz's shoulder as the captain deliberates, clearly having an internal battle over the decision, but eventually he sighs and fixes johnny with a stern look.

price closes the distance between them, patting gaz on the arm as he passes. "screw your head on, mactavish. we only get one shot at this, i need to know i can trust you not to fuck it up."

a spark of hope makes johnny's heart race, and he gives price a single resolute nod of confirmation. "i won't, sir."

laswell stands and walks around the table to stand beside price, a similarly firm expression. "we have to play this carefully. they wanted us to find that laptop, i have no doubt they wanted us to find where they are too."

"so what's our angle?" gaz asks.

laswell and price share a look.

"this has to be off the books, there's no way we'll get clearance for this." laswell answers, her expression turning noticeably darker, looking over to price as she continues, "if we want them back alive, we'll have to act fast. that means we're on our own."

the captain nods with no hesitation. "we are getting my sergeant back. i don't care how we have to do it."

they're loading into the back of a helo not even an hour later. the five of them, along with two field medics and the pilot, with the strict instructions in johnny's head to bring you home or to not come back at all.

there's only one coherent thought racing through his mind for the entire; you. getting you back, taking you home, finding the man that took you away from him – and hurt you – and making him pay.

he fishes your tags out of his pocket and presses them to his lips in a lingering kiss, just like he always does. soon, he thinks, it would be you he'd be kissing, not just a remnant of you.

the flight passes by so quickly it's almost as if he'd blinked and they were landing again.

the air is glacial as they ready themselves, preparing for the mask to put up a fight that they fully intend to win. the plan was decided on during the journey; kate and ghost would provide support from a distance while price, gaz, and johnny would confront the bastard head on. his focus is razor sharp, marching through the trees and underbrush, blood rushing in his ears and jaw clenched painfully tight.

the sky is just as strikingly blue as the day he lost you.

bring you home, or don't come back.

they reach a break in the trees, surrounding the small facility they tracked the video to that looked more like a derelict warehouse than a base. either way, the dark figure of their target is visible against the brick wall, surrounded by a number of his own soldiers – johnny counts six as he, price, and gaz make themselves known coming through the treeline. they share a quick look; they know how this will end.

"well met, captain," the mask calls, slowing to a stop and leaving a few metres of space between himself and the three of them, "will you make the right choice, or will your sergeant suffer for your pride, i wond–"

his monologue is cut short by a shot from the darkness of the treeline and lodging mercilessly into the base of his throat. his deadweight hits the ground with a thud that echoes, and in less than a second bullets are flying.

soap tightens his grip on his gun, raising it to glare down the sights and firing at the soldier nearest to him and dropping him with one well placed bullet to the leg and another to the face once he was on the floor.

another shot from the treeline drops one more; four left.

gaz and price take out another two between them in a similar fashion to soap, leaving two still standing – one of whom was advancing fast with the barrel of his gun pointed at soap while the other backed away.

one more shot rings out from the trees and one more body falls, but the last hostile was far too close for comfort now, johnny had no choice but to tackle him to the ground, narrowly avoiding being shot himself on the way down.

a few seconds pass as they wrestle on the ground, both trying desperately to gain the upper hand but falling just short because of the other. from his peripheral soap can see price running to his aid, but his momentary distraction allowed his assailant to take the upper hand and roll on top of him.

hands constrict around his neck, cutting off his airflow, but a well timed shot from price sends him falling over sideways, sputtering blood from the wound in his side.

soap heaves and cough, pulling air back into his lungs and glaring at the body of the man who almost got the better of him. this only meant they were one step closer to getting you back; he was one step closer to having you in his arms again. it didn't matter if he got hurt in the process.

price's outstretched hand suddenly appears in his vision, "get up soap, we've got a job to do."

his daze melts away and he takes the captain's hand, allowing himself to be pulled upright with an affirming nod shared between them.

"good aim, ma'am." gaz calls over the radio, looking down his nose at the steadily declining state of the mask; his infamous facade now cracked and broken, revealing the agonised face beneath.

"bring 'em home, boys." kate replies, and though he can't see her face johnny can imagine the commanding look she's undoubtedly wearing.

gaz backs away as johnny crosses the mess of crimson and dirt to where the mask lays, sprawled out and immobilised by his injuries but still very much alive, giving the fellow sergeant a respectful nod as he goes. "he's all yours, mate."

johnny stands over his fading form, watching with a detached look in his eye as the blood spills from the gaping wound in his neck with every struggled breath, his disjointed intake of air and the pathetic sputters as he inhales his own viscera. there's not a shred of mercy in him as he gazes down at the man, every bit of agony was completely deserved for what he did to you. the death that claws at him would be a blessing.

he gurgles to johnny, raising a weak arm to brush the hem of his trousers as he attempts to expel the words, "pl–ea– plea-se–"

johnny scoffs, dry and venomous. he has half a mind to leave him to suffer until the life finally bleeds from him, but the pure rage he feels listening to this bastard plead for help after putting you through hell for a year is far too strong for him to restrain.

it's unconscious, the way johnny's arm raises to point the barrel of his pistol squarely at the centre of his forehead. he pauses for a moment, if only to see the fear creep into the bastard's expression before his fingers squeeze the trigger and the light is gone from his eyes.

his chest stops heaving and his hand drops back to the mud,  leaving nothing but a few bloody fingerprints in his wake.

johnny pulls the trigger again.

and again, and again, and again, until his face is nothing more than a cavity of gore and lead and the ringing in his ears blocks out everything else around him.

a firm hand comes down on his shoulder and it’s only then does he notice the tension in his muscles and the fierce sneer pulling at his features. his eyes snap to the dark figure in the corner of his vision, meeting the bone white of simon's mask and the frown underneath.

"that'll do, johnny." simon murmurs, his own darkened eyes glaring down at the mangled corpse laying at their feet. he nods, somewhat absently, and turns away from the offending body.

there were more important things he needed to keep his head on straight for.

neither him or simon spare the remains of the mask another glance as they leave him behind. price and gaz are waiting by the entrance for them, and as soon as they're close enough they head together into the dark corridors of the building.

as the creep through the abandoned building, now deep in the cold basement, weapons poised and on high alert, there's a new sense of dread that forms in the back of his mind; what if you're not here after all? what if the mask was bluffing and you're already dead?

johnny grits his teeth and shakes his head to rid himself of that damning train of thought. he couldn't afford to think like that, he wouldn't, but another corridor of empty rooms has his heart sinking like an anchor to his stomach. he's trying to stay hopeful, but every dead end only makes him feel worse.

price grips his shoulder, firm and comforting, with a look in his eye to match as he catches johnny's gaze. "we'll find 'em, soap." 

"i know." he replies, but there's a waver in his voice despite the certainty of his words. price doesn't release his gaze or his shoulder until he moves to follow the others.

he doesn't say much else as the search continues. the ringing in his ears is back, amplified by the eerie silence of the halls. he can feel the air getting colder after each empty room the clear.

the time passes arbitrarily, until there's one last room to check. johnny watches gaz and ghost pry it open, the sound of the lock breaking only just reaching him through the fog over his senses.

gaz pauses once the door swings open, his eyes locked onto something in the room as they widen dramatically. he still doesn't tear his gaze away as his jaw falls open, something frantic in the way he yells, "soap!"

a spark of hope strikes his heart and travels to the very ends of his limbs, a new burst of energy filling him as he shoves past his teammates to stand in the doorway and look into the room himself.

it's you.

curled into yourself in the corner of the damp cell, shivering with your face buried in your knees with your hands clamped over your ears. it's almost uncanny, how small you look. the tremble in your limbs, the fear in your quickened breaths, it was the exact opposite of how you should be, but despite it all…

it's really you.

johnny feels his heart swell painfully with relief, and without another second of hesitation he's skidding to his knees beside you and gripping the cold skin of your wrists. you let out a muffled sob at the contact, and johnny feels his blood turn cold when it meets his ears.

"don't!" you cry, weak and desperate. johnny's caught off guard with how you try to rip yourself away from him, the shakes that wrack your body only increasing when he keeps his hold on you. "get off! please– please don't!"

his heart cracks anew at the distress in your hoarse voice. he feels his eyes well up with hot tears that he has to fight to keep from falling.

"hey, it's me! it's johnny, it's your johnny! look at me, sweetheart, i'm here!" he tries to calm you with his words, keeping his voice low between you both, but you keep your eyes screwed tightly shut.

johnny lets go of your wrists to cup your face in his hands instead, gently turning your head towards him and using his thumbs to stroke soft shapes into your cheeks. the gesture makes your breath hitch audibly, and your eyes slowly open to meet his. "that's it, I'm here, i got ye, yer alright."

"don't– i don't– i can't…" whatever you're trying to say is broken up by the effort it takes you to keep breathing through your sobs. you still try to lean away from his touch, but johnny doesn't let you move far. he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back his own breakdown.

"no-one's gonna hurt you again, darlin', i promise ye." he murmurs, searching your glassy eyes while he continues to smooth his thumbs over the skin of your face, wet with your tears. "c'mere, i've got ye…"

with little more resistance from you, johnny gathers you into his arms and presses you close to his chest, they way he'd been dreaming off all the time you'd been apart. he pays no mind to the way the hard ground digs into his knees, and instead focuses on feeling the rise and fall of your ribcage against his own, your heartbeat under his fingertips, and the very real sound of your voice.

"you– j-johnny…" you stutter, your hiccuping sobs gradually fading away as you grip the bulk of his vest like a lifeline. "are you… real?"

"i'm real, darlin'," his voice cracks despite his efforts to stay strong for you. he presses his lips to the tip of your head in a lingering kiss, partly so you won't see the glossy tears in his eyes as he tries to stamp them down. "i'm here. i swear, i'm never lettin' you out of my sight again."

the simple feeling of your weight leaning against him is so overwhelming he's worried he might faint. he lets you calm down, rubbing soothing patterns up and down your arms and back and wherever he can reach, even when the position becomes uncomfortable and the dampness from the floor has seeped into his bones.

eventually though, he does pull back, softly shush you when you protest in the thought that he's leaving you, and cups your head in his warm hands.

"let's get you home, eh?" he smiles. your uncertain eyes dart between his for a moment, searching, before you nod. it's weak and hesitant, but the gesture makes his grin stretch a little wider all the same. "c'mon then, think ye can walk?"

johnny sighs when you shake your head, looking down and seeming almost embarrassed by your frail condition as if any of this was your fault. if he could kill that bastard again, he wouldn't even hesitate.

it's no bother to him to haul you up with him, holding you carefully against his chest with an arm under your knees and the other around your back. you still gingerly grip the top of his vest, your free arm looping itself around his neck and pulling yourself as close to him as you can muster. he gives a concise nod to the others, crowded in the doorway, and they begin the trek back to the helo.

the sunlight causes you to bury your face in the crook of johnny's neck, shielding your eyes from the blindingly bright rays. he allows himself a moment of distraction as they cross the clearing to revel in the feeling. he'd feel the sun on his face again, but he'd never again take for granted a single moment he spends with you.

they're almost to the edge of the clearing, almost departed from that haunted place with a graveyard of mangled bodies in their wake, but he doesn't quite make it to the treeline.

a single gunshot echoes through the clearing and before any of them can react, the shell has found its mark in johnny's leg. the force and shock of it sends him tumbling to the floor, scrambling through the blossoming pain to brace his fall on his arms so he won't land on top of you.

there's yelling, returning fire, but johnny can only focus on covering your body with his own, shielding you from any harm that might find you. even through the agony travelling up his thigh, even when the air is still again, and even when his own eyes are threatening to follow yours in falling shut and succumbing to the weakness that drags him down.

when did you shut your eyes? johnny slips his hand under your hand, grunting in his chest as his weight shifts, and to his horror his fingers come back red.

no, no no. he only just got you back, he cannot lose you again.

he doesn't even register that he's shouting – for help, a medic, something – until his weight is being heaved over ghost's shoulder and you're being taken by price, the cracks in his stony expression only fuel the sick dread making its way up johnny's throat.

back in the helo, in no time but he doesn't remember the journey, he tries to push the medic away who starts working on his leg, slurring for them to help you first. they ignore him, obviously, and if he had any energy left he would've berated them for not listening. ghost holds him down as they secure the tourniquet, and as his vision finally begins to fade, he turns his head to the side so you can be the last thing he sees as he slips into unconsciousness.

for once, he doesn't dream of you.

there are no images of your body, laying motionless under the rubble. he sleeps in blissful oblivion, his head completely silent, and wakes a day and a half later feeling more rested than he ever has despite the wound in his leg.

simon is by his bedside when he finally opens his eyes. it's late, the room dark apart from the fluorescent light bleeding in from the gap under the door and simon's phone highlighting his balaclava. he notices the moment johnny turns his head to watch him, because of course he does, and reaches over to turn on the lamp on the side table without a word.

"mornin', lt…" johnny mumbles, voice hoarse and eyes heavy as he pushes through the tiredness clinging to his senses to sit up in his bed. the light is abrasive to his eyes, but he blinks through the sting and manages a lazy smile towards simon.

"evenin', more like." he replies, a trace of humour in the way his eyes lift at the corners. "been asleep nearly thirty-eight hours."

johnny baulks at that, suddenly feeling a lot more awake from the cold shock that passes through him. "thirty–? jesus wept, i need'ta–" he sputters, wide-eyed as he throws the blankets from his legs and starts to get up, "i need'ta see 'em, how–"

before he can get his feet on the ground however, he's pushed back by simon's hand on his chest, forcing him to sit back and acknowledge the pain radiating from his thigh.

"they're fine, johnny." simon tells him, punctuated with a roll of his eyes before he continues, "been in and out of consciousness, but they're stable."

johnny sighs deeply, relief flooding through his body as he slumps back against his pillows. you're okay, you're alive, you're here, and you're home and safe. his thoughts have already begun racing and despite how much his wounds are aching, he's already set his mind to how he's going to see you as soon as possible.

as if sensing his plotting, simon leans forward to catch his gaze and even through the mask johnny can see the look he's sending him.

"i'm goin' back to bed, so don't do anythin' stupid." simon begins, pushing himself to stand using the arms of his chair and narrowing his eyes as he leans even closer. "if you rip these stitches, i'll put 'em back in myself, clear?"

"crystal, lt." johnny nods, and simon holds his stare as one last warning before he turns to leave – but not without giving him a firm pat just below his bandages that makes him wince, feeling the silent threat behind the gesture as he watches simon exit silently out into the hall.

johnny swings his legs over the side of the bed the second the door swings shut again, a sharp intake of breath following the movement as his weight shifts. surely he could get to where you are without making his wound any worse, he hard could it be?

he makes it two doors down before he realises that this might've been a bad idea. the muscles of his thigh burn and his breath comes out in heavy, stuttered huffs, but despite the strain on his injured body he refuses to give up before he's seen that you're okay with his own two eyes.

the fourth door he peeks through is where he finds you, the sight of your sleeping form instantly overpowering the pain in his leg. he shoulders open the door and beelines in a limp to your bedside, his gaze never once leaving your face until he's close enough to grasp your hand in a slow, featherlight touch like you'd disappear if he made a wrong move. you don't react as he strokes your knuckles, but johnny is more than content to just sit with you, perched on the edge of your bed and taking in the way your breath fills your lungs, the gentle thrum of your pulse under his fingertips on your wrist.

time passes easily like this, until the minutes have gone by and he can find the strength to lift himself into the bed beside you, snaking his arm around your neck and shoulder to hold you close as he settles in, careful not to agitate any of your own injuries.

"i missed you, my love," johnny whispers, dragging his fingers up and down your arm, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, "i missed you so much…"

your fingers twitch in his hold, the steady rhythm of your breathing hitching as a shaky sigh leaves you. johnny freezes, his hand stilling on your bicep and his eyes growing wide.

"john–" the sound of his name passing your lips pulls him out of his shock, and he pulls back to watch your eyes twitch and flutter open. your voice is raspy and still weak, but not even an angel choir could sound sweeter to him. "johnny…?"

"i'm here–" his voice breaks, but he continues anyway, "i'm here, i got ye." he murmurs, careful to keep his voice low despite how much he wants to cry from joy. "how ye feelin'? you comfy, sweetheart? any pain?" he asks, shifting the both of you to sit against the pillows and keep you nestled against his side.

"i'm okay–" your hoarse response is interrupted by a cough that devolves into wet hiccups, your hands curling tightly into his shirt as you look up at him, "it– am i– it's–"

"shushsh, i'm here darlin', i've got ye." he coos, his eyes welling up to match yours, resuming his soothing touch over your arm. you stay like that, for minutes that could've been hours, gazing into each other's eyes while you softly cry and johnny comforts you.

it aches him to see you cry, but he can't help but awe at how beautiful you still manage to be, with cuts and bruises and tears littering your face. his heart swells in his chest with the love he holds for you.

your hand finds its place on johnny's cheek, your staggered breaths calming down at last. he covers it with his own to feel more of your skin on his. a wince crosses your expression as you try to lean up towards him, but he stops you before you hurt yourself any further and leans his forehead against yours.

you pull his face even closer, digging your fingertips into his cheek in an almost uncomfortable sensation, before brushing your lips against his in something like disbelief. "am i dreaming?"

"no, my love," he utters against your skin, taking your bottom lip between his teeth, nudging your cheek with his nose, "this is real."

your breath hitches again when he closes the little space left between you and presses his lips to yours, encapsulating you in a kiss that holds every ounce of desperation he's been holding on to. it's passionate, all-encompassing, and it reminds him of the first time he kissed you all those years ago. your free hand travels up to his hair, tangling the longer strands around your fingers and drawing a groan from deep in his chest.

he's reluctant to let you when you pull away for air, tasting the salt from your last stray tears as he chases your lips.

"say it again…?" you ask in a murmur, your eyes fluttering open again. the look you give him, one of pure hope that you won't suddenly wake up alone, it makes johnny's heart miss a beat.

he squeezes your hand, turning slightly to leave a kiss on your palm. "it's real, bonnie. i'll die before i ever let you go again."

your mouth opens to say something, but you stop yourself just before you can choke the words out, fresh tears building in your eyes again. johnny gives you an encouraging nod, holding your gaze while you muster the courage to voice what you're thinking.

"i–" you begin, your words catching on a lump in your throat, "i watched you leave without me, i had to watch the helicopter disappear and, and you…" your voice fades, eyes darting between his while they gloss with unshed tears once again.

"sweetheart…" he frowns, his heart breaking anew from the anguish that he never wants to hear in your voice.

you swallow thickly, your hold on his hair tightening ever so slightly. "i thought– i didn't think you'd ever find me…"

"i'd always find you." johnny replies, his resolute tone leaving no room for argument. he touches his forehead to yours again and lowers his voice to continue, "even if i had to go tae the ends of the earth, i'd never stop lookin' fer you."

his words release the fresh tears you've been holding back, and with a quiet sob you drop your face to the crook of his neck, gripping his hair and face tighter still. johnny softly shushes you, rocking the two of you back and forth as much as he can with you held close in his arms.

"you're staying with me tonight…" your voice is muffled, spoken into his neck and sending goosebumps rippling across his skin. a comforting nostalgia follows your words, one he can't help but chuckle at.

"would'nae have it any other way, darlin'."

#soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #mw2 x reader #mw3 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #roosterr writes

[obsessedwithpedritoofc]

Oᴜʀ Wɪɴᴅᴏᴡ (Jᴏᴇʟ Mɪʟʟᴇʀ)

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Joel Miller × Male Reader.

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 4,3 k.

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: After saving Ellie, Joel and her went back to Jackson. They established themselves pretty quickly —actually from the very first day after they arrived, Joel was already going on patrol. You were one of the many friends they made, or at least you were friends until the day Joel invited you to have a drink at his place.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: 10ish age gap (i guess?), awkward flirting, teeth rotting fluff, mentions of alcohol, smut, fighting for dominance, masturbation, blowjob, riding, rough sexy joel, no physical descriptions of reader (just slight allusion to him being shorter than joel), no use of Y/N. (lmk if i missed any).

𝔸/ℕ: im so bad at writing smut pls dont hold that against me :( and well happy bday to me. enjoy <3

𝕡𝕥 𝕚: 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕨

𝕡𝕥 𝕚𝕚: 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕨

𝕡𝕥 𝕚𝕚𝕚: 𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕨

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

"I'll go see you when Ellie and I are back".

"Right. See ya tomorrow".

"See ya".

You replayed the conversation you'd had with Joel the previous night once more, his voice sweet as honey resounding in your head as you searched down a house you and Ellie had found on your patrol. She could tell you weren't paying attention to anything, too absentminded to even care about patrolling. She had already told you to get your shit together and search things down properly.

"Yeah, sorry", had been your answer. But you were too busy thinking about Joel and what awaited you that night. So Ellie was constantly behind you, calling your attention when you missed something and picking it up herself when she got bored of that.

They had been living in Jackson for more than half a year, and Joel and Ellie had already made a name of themselves. Especially Ellie was very liked in between the people of town, while Joel just did his job and tried to keep her safe —though she was doing pretty much everything on her own— without attracting much attention, which made many people in town talk about him and his low profile. Maybe that was something you ended up liking of him as well: his only purpose was to protect his daughter. It was actually one of the things that made you like him back before breakout, and the fact that he was still just as a caring father as before, despite having grown cold and a little depressed, touched your heart in a deep, beautiful way.

The first days you talked with him when he got back to Jackson had been a little uncomfortable, since you were just starting to know each other. He tried to be funny, and he was, but when you tried to be funny you seemed to touch something inside him that he didn't like too much. That was until he told you about Sarah. You already knew some things of her from what Tommy had told you, and Joel told you how her loss brought him to a point of wanting to end his life... And then he told you that he didn't tell anyone about that part of him, that he trusted you enough as to keep it between you two and never use it against him.

He trusted you with his life.

Looking back to all that, you thought there was no way you didn't know he liked you. You were the only one —aside from Ellie and Tommy— who he talked, really talked with. Seriously, how could you have been so blind?

From that day on, he started taking your jokes a little less seriously and laughing with you. He also told you a lot of things about how Sarah was and how they had their life back in Austin.

Shit, is this kid really dead?, you used to think. You could see how Joel talked about her so happily, and you would've liked to meet her. In times like this you regretted the most not introducing yourself to them the day you moved to the neighborhood.

You also went on patrols together —from the very second day he and his kid came back, actually. You usually spent your patrol time immersed in a comfortable silence. Many times you even sat to eat and drink something together as you admired the landscape. Especially this time of year it was all more beautiful, covered in snow. It was one of the reasons why you loved winter. And getting to enjoy it all with him gave you the most satisfaction you had ever felt. If only you could get what you wanted most and feel his heat in the midst of all the cold—

"Hey", Ellie called you again. "Ammo", she tossed a box of rifle bullets in your direction. You almost didn't catch it.

"Shit, thanks".

I'll leave those thoughts for tonight, you said to yourself.

After that, you were finally able to put an ounce of actual concentration into patrolling and started searching the house thoroughly. Ellie looked proud, as if she had done all the job by herself, and as if getting you to finally focus had been her doing. In part it was, but you wouldn't let her get away with it and tell Joel that the mission had been a success thanks to her because you had been all the time thinking about him. Maybe, just maybe, you would affirm it if things got further that night.

"It's getting late", Ellie said when you exited the house after a while, looking at the sky getting darker. "Maybe we should go back".

"Yeah, you're right", you looked at the sky as well. "Wanna take the reins this time?", you smiled at the girl.

"Fuck yeah!".

She ran to the horse and saddled him immediately after you said that. She patted his neck a couple times to make sure he was ready to trot back to Jackson. Then you mounted and held onto the girl's arms for some support. She was able to take you both back to town, riding the horse like you had taught her earlier that day. Man, you had never felt so proud of something.

It was almost completely night dark when you finally got back to Jackson. You accompanied Ellie to let the horse back into the stables and made sure she got home safe, then you went straight to Joel's.

You had to knock on the door a couple times before he opened. His hair was even messier than usual and he could barely open his eyes.

"Gosh", you blurted out almost automatically at the surprise. "Mornin', princess", you laughed. So did Joel.

"Sorry", he tried to fix his hair as better as he could and rub the tiredness off his eyes. "Couldn't sleep tonight, was doin' it now".

"Too excited to try out that wine, huh?", you mocked at him.

"Sure, yeah", he chuckled again, leaning on the doorframe. "How was patrol? Did Ellie behave herself?".

"Y'could say that", now you chuckled. "She tells ya anythin' 'bout me bein' off, 's not true", you gave him a sly smile.

"I'll give ya the benefit of the doubt", he smiled back. "Wanna come in? Y'look like you're freezin' ".

"Nah, 's good. Gonna go take a shower n' then we can go grab dinner. Sound good?".

"Yeah. Can ya get home on your own?".

"I think I'll manage", you said with a mocking tone. "Though it'd be nice havin' ya make sure I make it to the canteen later", you crossed your arms.

"Gotcha", he smiled at you.

You found yourselves again immersed in a comfortable silence. None of you said nothing for a while, as you were both staring into the other's eyes and scanning your features. When your eyes met again you realized this had happened before, but it was no longer uncomfortable, so you smiled at each other once more.

"I'll see ya later", Joel was the first to speak.

"Yeah", you stepped away from the door. "See ya later", you smiled at him one last time before walking away.

The first thing you did when you got to your house was taking off your clothes and stepping into the shower. The hot water burned your freezing body for a moment before feeling nicely warm. You let out a heavy sigh, your hands and legs shaking in anticipation. You were so happy that things with Joel had gotten better, and you only hoped they wouldn't get worse that night.

You put on the most decent clothes you could find —which weren't too hot, but it was the best you had. Deep inside you, you were hoping Joel's clothes wouldn't be much better than yours, though you knew he'd look good anyway.

A knock on your door made you jump for a moment. You finished putting on your pants and immediately went to open it for Joel. 

Man, did he look better than you expected.

He was wearing the same green plaid shirt he had on when he first came to Jackson a year or so ago. He had fixed his hair a little, not losing its usual subtle dishevelment. He had put on the pair of boots you had given him a couple days before and some jeans that made him look even better.

"Wow", the word escaped your lips involuntarily. You immediately realized and cleared your throat. "Wanna come in? Gotta put on my boots n' I'm ready to go".

Joel seemed too busy inside his own world —in which he was scanning you and thinking of taking all those nice clothes off of you— to answer when you first asked.

"Joel?", you called him again. This time he looked int your eyes and cleared his own throat before coming inside.

"Sure, sorry".

You sat on the couch and started putting your boots on.

"Didn't think you'll take that wear somethin' nice shit so seriously", you chuckled nervously. You tried to hide the way your hands were shaking at the fact that Joel was in your house, and you were later going to be in his.

"You're not bad yaself", he leaned back on the wall and crossed his arms.

"Fuck, I feel like a teenager", you whispered to yourself. "Doesn't that happen to ya?".

"Yeah, been feelin' like that all day", he chuckled. 

"Ain't that a bit stupid?", you looked up at him.

"I dunno. I mean, we're just havin' a drink, but... If we're both feelin' the same, then it can't be that stupid, right?", his logic made you laugh.

"Alright", you checked your boots before getting up from the bed and looking up at him. "Then I won't feel stupid", you walked towards the door. "D'we go?".

"Sure", Joel nodded. Hell, he liked you even more than he thought.

This time, you spent the whole time —walking to the canteen and eating dinner— talking with each other. In fact, Ellie had to come to you two to say goodnight even before you were halfway through your food. Neither of you gave it much importance and just kept doing your thing.

After dinner you went straight to Joel's, like he had said the night before. You took a seat beside him on the couch as he opened the first bottle of wine. You clinked your glasses and took the first sip together. You both had the same reaction: your noses crinkled and you pursed your lips before swallowing. Then you looked at each other as if saying "It's not that bad". Joel took it as a sign to pour one more glass for you both, and you gulped it down again.

"I prefer Tommy's whiskey, but this ain't half bad", he said.

"Shit, Tommy", you covered your face with both of your hands. "Forgot to talk to him today", you grunted.

"What happened with Tommy?", he looked at you with frowned brow.

"Uh... 'S a long story, jus'...", you stopped talking. "Can I ask ya somethin'?".

Joel nodded.

"What made ya wanna ask me to come have a drink at your place?", you leaned back on the couch.

"Um...", a light was turned on inside his head. "Tommy talked to me", he chuckled in disbelief. "I see where this's goin' ".

"That fucker...", you laughed and crossed your arms. "Well, long story short, I gave him shit for tellin' ya...", you stopped again and cleared your throat. 

Joel didn't say anything, once again. You both knew what you were doing there, but didn't say a word to not make things uncomfortable.

But that is why you were there. To push things further, as uncomfortable as they could be.

You left your glass on the coffee table in front of you and turned to Joel. He looked scared for a moment, but then looked back into your eyes, leaving his glass on the coffee table, too.

"Can we stop bein' awkward n' talk 'bout what we're both thinkin'?", you said with all the seriousness you could pull out. "D'you like me, Joel?", you tried to say it slowly to not give him a stroke. Joel thought for a moment.

"S' it weird if I do?", he held back a smile. You chuckled.

"Well, 's it weird that I like ya?".

"A lil' weird, yeah", he chuckled as well.

"Then yeah, 's a lil' weird that ya like me", you laughed together. "Luckily for you, I like weird", you smiled at him.

"Luckily?", he chuckled and sat closer to you. "You're the lucky one for havin' me to protect your back".

"Y'mean the way ya did back at the village a couple days ago, when you almost got bitten at that cabin? Or before that, when I had to warn ya 'bout infected up ahead 'cause you're too deaf to hear?", you also sat closer to him.

"Ya ain't lettin' go o' that, are ya?".

"Well, you almost got yaself killed that day, so—".

He stamped his lips on yours to keep you from talking any more, his hands moving up your arms to reach your face. You grabbed his shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself and stop shaking, fighting against the rough beating of your heart. But it all went down when his tongue inside your mouth made you melt even more, and you couldn't help but to moan at the feeling. You hadn't kissed anyone in so long, it felt... good. Soothing. Warm...

"Shit, I didn't mean to get ya goin' like that", Joel's voice brought you back to reality. It took you a moment to process what he had said, then you realized your pants were starting to get a little too tight.

"Fuck!", you whispered. You also realized you were sitting on his lap. You tried to move away. "Goddammit, I'm sorry, didn't mean t—".

"Hey, 's okay", he grabbed your hips to pull you back onto his lap. "I'm the same".

You gulped. Your hand moved on its own until reaching his pants. You touched his groin in curiosity, then you felt it.

He was hard. And he was hard because of you.

"God...", he threw his head back. "Don't ya think we gotta do somethin' 'bout it?", he stared into your eyes. You couldn't hold back a smirk.

"How long's it been for ya?", you started undoing his jeans.

"Hey now", he grabbed your hands before you could go any further. "This couch is so hard, we should go somewhere more comfortable", he smirked, too.

"I like how ya think", you got off his lap. "Lead the way".

You didn't expect him to grab your hand to lead you to his bedroom, your heart jumping at his touch. Still, you returned it with no hesitation.

As soon as you entered the room, he grabbed you by the jaw and kissed you roughly, his tongue attacking your mouth and tearing another moan off your throat. He groaned as well and threw you onto the bed somewhat softly.

"Ya make such sweet sounds...", he grunted before kissing you again. You grabbed his arms and rolled on top of him.

"I thought ya said somethin' 'bout solvin' your problem".

"I said—", he rolled back on top of you. "We should do somethin' 'bout it", he started undoing your pants. "Been all night wantin' to take these damn things off o' ya".

"Damn, your old man libido's gotta be hella high if you're—".

Joel's hand inside your underwear made you gasp loudly, half in surprise and half in pleasure. He smirked, taking that as a sign to keep going. He slide your pants and underwear down your legs and tossed them somewhere on the bedroom's floor. His fingers wrapped around your hard dick, making you gasp again. That gasp turned into moans as soon as he started moving his hand in slow movements. You found yourself clinging to his arms with nails and all as your hips bucked into his touch, seeking more of it.

"How long's it been for ya?", he repeated your question from before.

"Too... Too long", you managed to say between moans. Joel chuckled.

"Good thing's not gonna be too long anymore", he leaned down to whisper in your ear. "Told ya you're lucky to have me, didn't I?", he quickened the pace of his movement.

"Joel...", you thrusted you hips farther into his hand, your head thrown back in pleasure.

"Don't get too ahead of yaself".

He moved his hands away to give way to his mouth. His lips wrapped around your dick and his tongue swirling over the tip gave you goosebumps. Your fingers tangled in his hair and pressed him lower onto your member with a loud moan. You shut your eyes closed when your head was again thrown back at the sudden pleasure. Joel stopped his ministrations and grabbed your jaw to put your head back down.

"Eyes on me", he ordered. You didn't dare to disobey him, his voice —though sweet as honey, like it always was— being too intimidating and demanding for you to even think about it.

It didn't take long until you were begging him for release. His darkened eyes never left yours as he kept bobbing his head and swiping his tongue around your dick. You tried to take control of the situation, take his head and thrust into his mouth, but he didn't let you. Instead, he grabbed your hips to keep you still and moved his head even faster. He only had to groan once to send vibrations up your body and make you cum as hard as you never had.

That was the best blowjob someone had ever given you.

You stayed laying on the bed, trying to get some air back into your lungs. Joel, in the meantime, laid next to you and started leaving small kisses all over your face. If there was something you never ever expected in you entire life was Joel being such a cute lover. Damn, he'd been giving you the best fucking head of your life a minute ago, even giving you orders! How come he could turn into such a sweet thing in such a short time?

"You okay?", he asked. You nodded, still half dizzy.

"Yeah, 'm good", you looked at him. "You're a fuckin' beast".

Joel chuckled.

"Thought I'd be way more tired", he wrapped his arms around you and kept giving you little kisses. "Been a couple years since I did anythin' like this".

"First time with a man?".

"First time with a man".

You grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it, looking intently into his eyes.

"It wasn't half bad", you smiled at him. "That was the hardest I've ever come in my life".

"Fuck, really?", he laughed in disbelief. "Can't fuckin' believe it...".

"Maybe I should return the favor", you positioned yourself on top of him, your dick getting hard again.

"Hell, man. Can't take a break for a couple minutes?".

You palmed his groin with firm grip and lowered yourself until your mouth was leveled with his ear.

"I wanna have you inside me", you whispered. Your words immediately vibrated through his body and straight to his own dick. If he was already rock hard, now he was sure he was going to explode at any moment.

"Fuck", he groaned. He put himself up and started taking of his shirt. "You better get ready 'cause—".

"Stay down", you pushed his chest down onto the mattress. "You've just put me under ya. I think it's only fair if I do the same", you continued what he was doing and took his shirt off. He looked up at you with eyes full of enthrallment.

"Alright ", he managed to say, even though he was already too lost inside his thoughts —which consisted on you riding him down to town as well as you rode your horse. You smiled at that.

"Good boy", you whispered involuntarily.

You undid the rest of your clothes, discarding them to the floor, and got ready for the action. You made sure you two were fine and clean before you actually started. You gave Joel the beginning of a blowjob to make sure he would slip inside you with no problem, and since there was no lube nearby that was the best you had.

You positioned yourself over his dick. Looking into each other's eyes, you both nodded to give green light to the other before you slid down on him, his member entering your hole in one smooth thrust. A moan escaped from your mouths at the same time. Joel's eyes rolled back into his skull as he felt your tight, warm walls enveloping his manhood. You gripped the sheets tightly between your fingers to hold back the need of destroying yourself with him, trying to fight the incredible sensation of pleasure mixed with delicious pain. He looked up at you to make sure you were fine. You just nodded.

After a short while of getting used to having his length inside you, you started moving slowly. It didn't last much, your desire too much to bear for you to keep going so little quickly. So you started riding him, really riding him. Your walls clamped down onto his member, as if trying to milk him dry. His tip hit your prostate constantly, each time deeper and giving you more pleasure. He tried to reach out and grab your own dick, but you grabbed both of his hands and didn't let him move.

"S... Stay down", you repeated, this time between moans and heavy breaths.

Now desperation was killing him. Being inside you felt too good. He was going to come at any moment if you kept it up. But still you were going way softer than what he wanted. And you wouldn't let him move... That was fucking hell for him.

In an attempt to calm his desperate need, he started thrusting up into you, meeting your movements halfway. You liked that way too much for someone that was trying to establish some sort of dominance over Joel, but you didn't complain either. You just kept going at it, doing your thing as he did his. Though, as a response for what he was doing, you contracted your hole, your walls clenching down on his dick even tighter. He let out a loud moan at that.

"Fuckin' hell", he chuckled between more groans. "G'nna kill me if ya... Holy shit...".

"Inside... Do it inside...".

Your words sent him over the edge. He thrusted up even harder, chasing his release with wild desire. His dick kept hitting your insides in just the right spot and didn't leave you time to breathe before pleasure took over you. 

Joel was the first to come, and you kept riding him until you spilled your cum all over his stomach. He chuckled at the warm feeling, almost tickling him.

"Shit", you breathed out, laying beside him. "Y'all grandpas are somethin' else", you looked down at his cum dripping down your thighs. "Got a towel or somethin'?".

"Bathroom", he pointed to a room on his right, inside the bedroom. You got up and walked to it as well as your shaking legs allowed you to. You grabbed the only towel you saw and wiped Joel's cum off your thighs, then went back into the bedroom to wipe yours off his stomach. He smiled at you. "Thanks".

You tossed the towel to the floor with the rest of your clothes, then laid back next to him. He immediately wrapped his arms around you once again and kissed your forehead.

"I'll get it washed for ya tomorrow", you kissed him back.

"What, the towel? No need, I'll do it".

"Shut the fuck up, I'm takin' it to my place tomorrow. I'll let you borrow one o' mine until I have yours cleaned".

Joel chuckled.

"Fine, dad", he mocked at you.

"Who ya callin' dad? You're the one with kids here, grandpa", you turned around to look at him. You saw something that caught your attention on the wall behind him.

"Grandpa my ass", he laughed. He saw you lost on your thoughts and looking behind him. He turned around to see what you were checking. It was a handmade calendar.

"Ya count the days?", your eyes fell on the only day that wasn't marked with an x —December thirtieth.

"Uh, Ellie does. Then she made me do it, too —did that thing for me. She said countin' days is fun and that I should keep track of how time goes by, also to know how much of a grandpa I am", he laughed. "Why?".

A smile appeared on your lips and you looked at him again.

"It's my birthday", you giggled in excitement. Joel turned to look at you, then back at the calendar, then back at you.

"Shit", he frowned. "Didn't get ya anythin' ".

"Ya kiddin'?", you looked at him in disbelief, your smile still plastered on your face. "Ya got me some alcohol, fuckin' confessed to me n' gave me the best fuck of my life", you stopped to breathe. "If that's not one hell of a birthday gift, I don't know what to get ya for yours".

He laughed and hugged you once more, giving you a sweet, slow kiss. You grabbed his shoulders, wrapped your legs around him and pulled him closer to you.

"Happy birthday", he whispered. You chuckled.

"Thanks, Joel", you whispered back.

You stayed in each other's arms until you two drifted off to sleep. After many sleepless nights for the both of you, that one night you could finally sleep soundly. For once, Joel had no nightmares and he didn't wake up once. As for you, you couldn't think of somewhere better to be.

That had been the best fucking birthday you'd had in more than twenty years.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #tlou joel miller #tlou joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller x male reader

[sockiestupidity]

Reader having a depressive episode and Miguel helps them out of it 👀👀👀👀

Also can I be 🕸️ anon 👁️👄👁️

AH OKAY SO FIRST IF ALL. RLLY SRRY IF THIS IS BAD😭 I LEGIT DIDNT KNOW HOW TO WRITE THIS🧍‍♂️

ALSO MY SECOND REQUEST???😭 FREAKING TF OUT LITERALLY TY 🕸️ ANON

I JUST WANNA STATE THAT I HAVE NEVER HAD A DEPRESSIVE EPISODE EVEN THO IM CONSTANTLY SAD SO A LOT OF THINGS MIGHT BE INACCURATE BUT JUST LET ME KNOW IF THIS IS LIKE WRITTEN RLLY BADLY AND ILL TAKE IT DOWN🥴

Warnings-lowercase intended, bad writing and grammar as usual, depression/depressive episode, ooc miguel?, use of the word mijo, forehead kiss👁️

nonverbal/mute reader again (might decide to make this my thing?? bc nonverbal/mute reader fics do be hard to find)(srry if u wanted reader to talk 😬😬😬)

reader uses hq housing as usual🤩(U CANNOT TELL ME THAT HQ HOUSING DOES NOT EXIST I REFUSE TO BELIEVE IT😤)

ALSO MIGUEL AND READER ARE AGAIN IMPLIED TO ALREADY HAVE AN ESTABLISHED PLATONIC/FOUND FAMILY DYNAMIC (sorry for the long intro 🕸️ anon, pls still lob me🥺)(that second part is meant to be funny lol)

it was around 1:00 pm the time you and miguel decided to set up as a designated lunch time as the both of you had not been able to get together because both of your schedules had been busy lately. although you had claimed to have been occupied with missions, he hadn't seen you completing any of those missions. he shrugged it off, thinking that maybe he just was preoccupied with another matter when you had completed your missions. (A/N: miguel i lob u but sometimes ur rlly serving idiot😔)

his oblivious mindset soon turned into worry when it dawned 1:30 and you still had not shown up. "what trouble could that kid possibly have gotten into that made them this late?" he thought to himself. you were usually a punctual person, and often arrived to your lunch meetings with him earlier than he did. as he waited another ten minutes he decided that he needed to take action, it was out of character for you to be this late, especially with your history of punctuality.

miguel headed over to your room at hq housing. in his mind, he thought that it was a possibility that you were just tired and had just layed down for a nap, forgetting about your meet up with him.

as he knocked on your door and patiently waited, he noticed that there was a lack of noise. he knocked on your door, and proceeded to hold his ear up to the door, wanting to confirm the lack of noise. you had naturally always been a quiet person, contrasting with many of the eccentric personalities most spider people had.

miguel felt something odd about the quietness, and decided that he had no choice but to investigate further. surprisingly, the door was locked, despite the fact that you had always locked your door, no matter what. as he entered the room he was met with an unsightly mess.

all of your belongings were strewn across the floor, if he wasnt worried before then he was definitely worried now. your stuffed animals had always been your most prized possessions, he remembered how you always furiously typed about them. hell, he wouldnt be surprised if your stack of communication cards were so thick because you made a special card for each stuffed animal.

as he entered where your bed was located, he noticed an increasing amount of clothing piles, as well as more misplaced stuffed animals, he frowned at this. where could you possibly be? and how could you let your room get this bad? he trudged through the piles of clothes. he looked at your bed, there was nothing there but a lump. he assumed that it was more of your clothes, or maybe your pillows. he was about to back away when he suddenly saw the lump move.

"kid is that you moving right now?" he asked, waiting for a sign of some sort that it was infact you, and not just his imagination. he suddenly heard a tap.

miguel took that as a sign that it was you, "can you please show me that wonderful face of yours?" he asked softly. he wanted to make sure that he wasnt accidentally pressuring you to do anything.

when there was a lack of response he decided to go a slightly different route, "may i flip the sheet over just a bit for you? i want to talk to you face to face." he wasn't really expecting a response, as it seemed like you didn't want to acknowledge him. he was taken aback when you responded with another tap.

he slowly lifted the covers, and was met with your face, but something was off..

you had a dead look in your eyes, they also looked red, as if you had been crying. he gave you a concerned look. if he had known that you were struggling this much he would've visited you sooner.

he ran his fingers through your hair as a form of comfort, attempting to give you some sort of comfort. "im going to try to get you out of this mess, you wont have to worry about being alone anymore, alright?" he watched you as you slowly nodded.

miguel started to get to work on your room. he made sure that all your clean and dirty clothes had been separated accordingly, and had folded all the clean clothes neatly into your drawers, which he had also taken the liberty to organize, he then placed all your stuffed animals in the correct spots that were assigned to each of them, collected your trash, and finally ended with a good scrub. he decided to not only clean your whole bathroom, but also scrubbed down any other hard surfaces that had been covered in grime. (A/n: this might be a bit extreme for just a week but trust me, it doesn't take that long for hard surfaces to get musty)

once every item in your room had been neatly organized and accordingly cleaned he approached you once again. you still had yet to move from your position.

he sat down on your newly cleaned floor, wanting to make sure that he looked less threatening to you, he then spoke up once again, " everything will be fine kid. do you think you could get up?" you slowly nodded.

he helped you slowly stand up and embraced you in a hug. you were caught by surprise, as the only time miguel came in contact with people, it was mostly violent.

after the hug ended he spoke up again, "you're going to take a shower and get dressed, ill wait for you." you slowly nodded once again.

you still felt so much dread, and misery but you wanted to show miguel that you could be strong and that you really did want to get better for him.

you headed to the shower, clothes and towel in hand. you slowly took your clothes off after the water was to your liking and slowly began your shower. you mostly just focused on rinsing your body, the thought of doing your hair seemed as too big of a task for yourself. you finished your shower and dried yourself off, then got dressed.

you then opened the bathroom door, your face meeting miguel's as you gestured to your hair, "you want me to take care of your hair?" you nodded in response to the question.

he knew exactly how to take care of your hair, as he used to take care of gabriellas hair.. he started running the sink, and then grabbed your hair products and a hairbrush. he ran his fingers under the water, "alright, this is going to be weird but i need you to tilt your head, just like you're at the hair salon, it might feel uncomfortable because we don't have a stool but i promise you that you'll feel so much better later." you nodded and placed your head in the sink.

"let me know if it gets too hot." you blinked your eyes in response. he started massaging in your shampoo, after rinsing it out he lightly brushed your hair for a bit, before continuing with conditioner. once he was done with conditioner it was easier for him to brush out your knot's.

once all the knots were properly detangled he turned the sink off and spoke once again, "would you like your hair dried?" you nodded, he grabbed your drier and got to work, making sure every part of your hair dried evenly (if you have curly hair he used the diffuser attachment). after your hair was dried he brushed out your hair once again.

you turned to face him with a soft look in yours eyes. you reminded him of gabby so much that it hurt his heart. he couldn't even imagine his little girl having to go through this by herself. "thank you" you signed.

he felt a pang in his heart, "of course, you know that im always here if you need my help, mijo." he gave you a small forehead kiss.

"we should get some food now, kid." you nodded. he guided you towards the cafeteria that most spider people ate at in the society. you smiled at the miguel themed burger. maybe everything would finally be okay with miguels to support you through your toughest times.

A/N: this might be long and confusing bc im rlly sleep deprived(sorry😔)

ofc theres more to depression but i rlly wanted to at least incorporate some sort of fluff😭

#across the spider verse #atsv #miguel o'hara #spiderverse x reader #miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #platonic!reader #platonic relationships #angst #miguel o'hara fanfiction #angst with a happy ending #i think #hope u like it #feedback is appreciated

[sallufix]

FINISHED UNWOUND FUTURE!!!... Three weeks ago. BUT LOOK OK to own up for the lazy artwork and it being late, i have a whole Clive animation packed!! Yeah!! 1 minute and 30 seconds!! Uhuh!!! SO. Wait for that and im sure we can think of an agreement. anyways. More commentary and reactions below.

When i started playing this game i KNEW what was gonna happen. If you squint enough, you can see that i took a break from playing the game (because i started it right after i finished diabolical box.) Thats because ive been delving deep into the fandom and understanding the Layton universe more! So this time around, i knew Laytons backstory, that the plot twist was Clive, the whole thing with Claire, and just everything in general.

Dont worry it didn't spoil the game experience for me, thats what im gonna talk about. Despite knowing EVERYTHING that was gonna happen, i still sobbed like. So hard. Despite knowing the plot twists and the character motives, i still felt reaaally emotional. I just wanna say how amazing that is. Every damn cutscene, ESPECIALLY THE ONES WITH CLAIRE/CELESTE, i like teared up so bad😭😭

I just wanna admire that fact of how even when you already know so much, the experience will always be much different than just ReAdinG ThE pLot oFf THe wiKi. I love how the Layton games subvert expectations so much that you NEED to read every dialogue, you NEED to see every last bit of media, to get the full experience of the story and get rewarded so nicely with indepth references and character arcs.

Ok thats all SORRY FOR THE RANDOM RAMBLING this is like my favorite game in the franchise (mainly because i can actually play it on mobile and that Clive is my bbg) and im both soso glad this game exists and soso fucking ANGRY AND DEPRESSED AND EMO THAT THIS GAME EXISTS. Mention LayClaire infront of me irl. I dare you. I wont be able to hold back my tears. What has this franchise done to me. I'll never be the same.

#professor layton #pl #prof layton #pl uf #professor layton fanart #professor layton spoilers #unwound future #pl lf #lost future #clive dove #hershel layton #claire foley #luke triton #dmitri allen #pl spoilers #essays #rambles

[bullet-prooflove]

Help Wanted - Bottles x Reader

Tagging: @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets @callsignartemis @kmc1989 @darqchilddaydreamz @the-person-in-the-circle @librarian1002 @prettyinpunk85 @thanossexual @@littlestroman @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @lunamoon @s1lverhand @wakeama @adaydreamaway08

When your dad gets sick you pull away from him. Bottles isn’t sure if it’s a self defence mechanism, if you need the brain space or what. All he knows is that you aren’t around, and that you stop picking up his calls. When he goes past your house, it’s dark and locked up. It goes on for a few weeks. The two of you have only been together a few months but the idea of you in pain wounds him, your absence in his life cuts deep.

When he does catch up with you it’s at the supermarket of all places. It’s ridiculous how something as normal as buying toilet roll can turn into a twist of fate. He isn’t looking where he’s going when he comes around the corner of an aisle, and he bumps into you literally. He knows it’s you before he even registers your face, the recognition is instinctive at this point, he’s attuned to your presence. He catches the scent of your perfume, sensual and soft with a hint of mandarin.

You look tired, your hair is pulled back into messy bun and looks like it hasn’t been washed for days. Your face is gaunt and there’s dark shadows underneath your eyes. You are far from the vibrant girl he knows and loves, and it kills him.

“Talk to me.” He requests his hand coming to rest upon your arm, his thumb chasing over the hollow of your wrist. “As a friend, as a lover, I don’t care what.”

It’s at a table, in the outdoor seating area of the café next door, that the whole thing comes pouring out of you. Your dad’s been sick for a while, longer than you realised and you don’t have time anything else in your life right now.

It had started with him calling you at odd hours to ask when Family Fortunes was on, something that he had never done before. Bottles remembers these phone calls vividly, because they always seemed to occur around a similar time on a Saturday. Your phone would ring and the two of you would look at the clock and he’d say “It’s your dad” without even looking at the call display.

At first you had thought he was just lonely, your job as an events manager kept you busy especially with the Santo Padre Summer Festival on the cards. Then one day you’d popped over and discovered he’d had a mini stroke. He’d lost movement in his left hand, he could barely hold the remote, his memory was shot to shit, and he was asking where your mother was despite the fact, she had passed away five years earlier. It was soul destroying.

You are one of the strongest people he knows, so when you start to cry it breaks something deep down inside of him. He shifts seats to the one alongside of you and wraps his arms around you because this shit is far too much for one person to bear. He holds you close as you sob into his chest, cradling you close.

He knows a thing or two about being exhausted and overwrought, how it feels like a weight bearing down on you. After his father died of an opioid overdose, his mother hadn’t been able to get out of bed for weeks. His relationship with both of his parents had been fraught, but he had spent that time taking care of her. He made sure she ate, that she had company and little by little he’d helped pull her out of the depression until she had started to function again. He knows that this shit isn’t easy. That between your job and caring for your father you’re wearing yourself down, he can see in your eyes how your struggling to cope.

“Let me help.” He asks you. “Please just let me help you.”

He must catch you in a moment of complete weakness because you agree.

The first time Bottles turns up at your father’s house, the old man thinks he’s one of the in-house nurses that he’s managed to run off. There’s been a couple of them so far and none of stuck around more than a few days. After spending a couple of hours with your father he can see why.

He’s a veteran, he used to be a Captain. People like that hate anyone to seeing them vulnerable, so they lash out. Bottles thinks that’s part of the reason he didn’t tell you about the mini stroke in the first place, he didn’t want to shift this burden onto your shoulders.

Albert or rather Bertie, is not kind with his words but Bottles has lived through worse. He’s entire life has been far from a walk in the park and he’s now a Prospect in the Mayans. Your father is a cake walk compared to that. He isn’t sure how it happened but the three of you slip into a routine. You’ve taken as many days as you can away from work, so Bottles steps in to cover the time you’re away. He cooks for Bertie, he helps bathe him, cleans him up and changes the sheets if he doesn’t make it to the bathroom in time, he does as much of the heavy lifting as he can until Bertie starts to get a little better.

When you come home, he shoots out and deals with club business. At night, he curls up around you in your single bed, holding your close and whispering tender words into your ear until you fall sleep, surrounded by Blink 182 posters and Evanescence playing on the C.D player because he’d forgotten that they’d even existed. He switches it up with a couple of Green Day C.Ds after he’s flicked through your collection.

“There’s no money you know.” Bertie tells him one day when the two of them are in the living room watching Family Fortunes. It takes Bottles a minute to understand what he’s saying. “She doesn’t get much if I die. That’s why you’re here isn’t it?”

“I’m not here for the money.” He informs Bertie as he raises to his feet and collects Bertie’s bowl from the tray set across his lap and places it inside his own. “I’m here for her, to make sure she takes care of herself.”

“I used to take care of her and now she takes care of me, how fucked up is that?” Bertie says in a rare moment of clarity. “I fucking hate it.”

Bottles can understand that. Parents are God in the eyes of children, and this is what happens when you realise that they’re just mere mortals like the rest of you. He knows how jarring this whole experience has been for you, and for Bertie. Confronting your own mortality changes you, he knows, he spent his entire childhood, thinking he was going to die every time he went under the knife because a child with a disability wasn’t good enough for his parents. He sets the bowls down on the floor beside his usual chair before sitting down again.

“I had forty-six surgeries by the time I was eighteen,” He confides to Bertie, pulling up his trouser leg and showing your father his scars embedded deep within the tissue of his leg. “Suffering isn’t new to me, you can’t imagine the shit I’ve gone through, and I can’t imagine the shit you are going through but I know what it’s like to feel like your life isn’t your own, to feel frustrated by your own capabilities.”

 “I don’t want this for her.” Bertie tells Bottles.  “I don’t want her putting her life on hold to take care of me and I don’t want to end up in one of those homes where they feed you gruel and leave you to die alone in a bedroom where the curtains are still drawn because nobody bothered to open them.”

“I hear you.” Bottles says. “It’s fucking depressing.”

“So, what are my options?” Bertie asks him. “I rely on my daughter and her… What even are you?”

Bottles shrugs his shoulders because truthfully the two of you have never really put a label on it.  All he knows is he’s committed to you; he has been since the moment he kissed you on your doorstep.

“The man who loves your daughter.”

“Boyfriend? Partner? The guy who hoses me down when I make a mess of myself?”

Bottles finds himself smiling before he shrugs his shoulders.

“All of the above.”

“I’m serious when I’m asking you what my options are.” Bertie informs him, his gaze straying back to the T.V. “I need to start figuring shit out before I start losing my marbles and the decision is taken away from me.”

“I could find out.” Bottles offers as he leans in close. It feels like the two of them are engaging in a conspiracy, because the both of them know that the idea of putting your father in a home is not something you agree with. “One of the guys in my club, his mom has memory issues. She started to fall down a lot. He managed to get her into this sweet place up by the community centre. She loves it there, she’s made a lot of friends, there’s all these clubs she goes too, they do some pretty cool shit. I could look into it for you?”

Bertie reaches across the space between the two of them, his strong hand grasping Bottles’.

“Could you?” Bertie requests before he tilts his head to the bedroom door where you’re sleeping. “I have a feeling we’re gonna have a fight on our hands.”

"I'll talk to her." Bottles promises the older man. "See if we can't all get on the same page."

Love Bottles? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Wanna read more? Check out Bottle's Masterlist here!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#bottles goggles #bottles x you #bottles x reader #bottles mayans #bottles mayans mc

[tvbyw0by]

Not even gonna say ANYTHING becuz of the fact I'm also writing this sleep deprived & half adleep AGAIN!!!

This is a remake of the other 1, where I wrote it as two characters w a s/o YOUNGER, but in the request it said OLDER... Atushi & Akutagawa (seperate) x reader

No warnings.

9 years ago gap.. hes 20, you're 29,

At first, he didn't know how to really do relationships like this in general,

He always thought it was weird seeing age gap couples, but when he saw you..

He fell second, BUT HARDER

At first he refused to believe he loved you, and would call you 'disrespectful' names regarding your age😭

"Old hag"

"Depressed Emo."

Back and FORTH bro,

You may be older than most and seen as a mother figure by a lot of people,

But you grew up w/ sass & attitude

If someone insults you, you insult them back

Even though your insults kinda suck its okay!!

He grew up being naturally afraid of older people, growing up mostly in the slums & the mafia, old people weren't always the greatest

And adding that onto the fact you're more of a physical person, holding hands, hugs, etcetc,

He never thought you guys would get together at all,

And so he pushed the feelings down until one day, you decided to tell him you're own feelings instead of waiting

"I love you"

"Oh." OH.

Literally didn't know how to respond,

Also did I mention how you will sometimes be 'shipped' with older people,

Lets say you work in the ADA, THEY SHIP U W RANPO OR EVEN YOSANO

Akutagawa got so pissed about it

He would've walked straight into the mf agency if it wasn't for you telling him not to

"I'm gonna kill them." "AKU NO---"

"Whos she, your older sister?" "Shes my wife." "Yea, im his- wait what"

You're 25, hes 18, 7years

Sometimes people think you're his adopted mother due to how concerned you act whenever hes hurt, but really you guys are dating.

It sometimes makes both of you uncomfortable with people comparing your relationship with a mother and son one,

But you guys learned to ignore it and move along with your day,

He sometimes thinks about the fact that you're probably gonna die before him, and he gets so scared

"I'm not gonna die so soon sushi..." "But what if---" "No."

Atsushi is incredibly shy, & often overthinks, ESPECIALLY when it comes to you,

He sometimes thinks about the fact that maybe you should date some one you're own age, like yosano or ranpo, or even kunikida!

"No sushi, I love YOU, not them"

I can imagine you viewing Kyoka as a daughter figure to you, and so you basically steal her and beg atsushi to adopt her

You're lowkey REALLY fucking rich..?

You'll sometimes give him hundreds of dollars just because,

"Sushi! Here---!" "[name], why did you just hand me 296,556 yen.." "296,556? I thought I gave you more.."

Andddd, theres the end. !!<33

#bsd x reader #bsd atsushi #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd akutagawa #meow

[nicothesnekk]

Hi there!

Its been, a longgg time since ive been on tumblr and ive started anew! However I wanted to talk about something that has became like extremely important for me these past few months.

And I know most are gonna be like 'ah damn its gonna be something political' But its not.

Its about the character of Izzy Hands from what is my favourite show Our Flag Means Death. I was going to write this somewhere more private, like my notes app. Eventually decided against that when I realised I just felt the need to talk about it to someone else.

So without further adieu, here is why the character of Izzy Hands is so damn important to me as a trans guy and a gay guy.

To start off, I want to talk about the fact that, Izzy is one of the first characters within media I have been able to relate too and understand on a level I didn't even realise possible. I hold that same loyalty this character has, that same instinct to follow along with those you know and not to question them, even if those people aren't objectively *good* so to say.

Because just like this damn angry little man, I do the same, I follow those who arent objectively good, even if it results in more pain and suffering than good. Ive followed people who have actively called me an animal before due to my sexuality and gender - Just like how Edward has called Izzy a dog in the past, albeit for different reasons. Ive known what its like to question my loyalty to those people but ultimately stay because in some way ive loved them.

Izzy Hands has genuinely been the first character I ever felt truly connected too in this form of sense. And dont even get me started on how he was in the aftermath of losing his leg.

I'm someone who has been losing both my hearing and my sight at *alarming* rates. Like to the point im having to have optician appointments every couple of months to make sure my prescription isn't changing more than it is already. Its got to the point where my glasses arent actually helping me with some aspects and im needing to slowly begin trying to adjust to using a white cane so that way i can try stay safe within public areas. Dont even get me started on my hearing loss.

Ill never forget how I felt when I saw Izzy's reaction to himself within his depressed state after losing his leg; (the whole "what even are you?" scene), having to take about 20 minutes to just sit and cry. Because I felt that so fully after having to experience my own depression to my own circumstances.

He's a character that from start to end I found being able to see myself in.

And by loving him it's like loving the part of myself I didn't think that I could love.

This character is one that i'm going to hold so damn dearly to my heart because I don't think Im ever going to be able to find one that ill be able to actively relate too on so many damn levels.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #our flag means death #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd season 2 #ofmd spoilers #izzy hands #ofmd izzy #izzy my beloved

[gungoo4lifer]

Act as if this is a cool title, im lazy.

There were times where Kenta couldn't fall asleep. And at times like that, he would lie down his body on the bed with a cigaratte between his lips, thinking of his past, thinking of that time. Thinking of him.

Park JongGun. Park.. fucking JongGun..

Aka his ex idol.

As a kid, he always dreamed of becoming someone with utter strength and intimidation, just like him. He always dreamed of becoming someone so cold and cool like him. He liked every single thing about Gun, Kenta felt awe of him.. He even copied the way Gun dressed, just to be more similiar like him.

..Yet, his old, innocent self could've never thought that a day where his own eyes would force him to see a violent, bloody sight among Gun in it. His fucking idol. The man he referred as his big brother. The man he wanted to be.

Just.. thinking of that scene, that bloody sight where his father and his whole other clan gave his life away was enough for his fury increase and several tears drop from his eyes whenever he thought of it, despite all the passed years. His dreams of Gun became a nightmare.

One day. Just, one damn day.. he will get his revenge. He will kill that man with his bare fucking hands. He will show him what kind of monster he've become. He will.. 

He had a dready childhood indeed. He suffered with lots of disorders including depression, anxiety, trust issues, insomia and several other disorder that he can't even remember the names of.

And then out of nowhere, you appeared.

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

The pathetic sobs and whines fills the dark alley as Kenta leans his back on the cold wall while he sits on the ground, hugging his own legs and wishing that it was his father instead.

Suddenly, a voice grazes his ears, which he decides to ignore. "Hey!" 

The voice repeats himself, "Hey!" And Kenta ignores it, once again, also ignoring the fact that the voice was getting closer to his crying body now. He wasn't even sure if the voice was shouting out for him or not. When suddenly- ''Oi! You think i'm a joke?!''

There you stand, holding a wooden stick shaped like a sword in your hand, Kenta finally manages to look up to you with his teary eyes but the frown still keeps there, glaring at you menacingly. ''Why the hell are you ignoring me?! Cant you see this katana in my hand?!'' You threat him, crouching down in front of him and slightly tilting your head, observing him and trying to understand what the hell was wrong with him.

Yeah. You got a pretty cute little katana, don't you. Too bad that Kenta has seen real katanas in his life. Katanas that aren't made out of woods, sharp katanas that made to kill people, and, well, katanas that.. cut of his finger and caused this huge scar running through his head.

Kenta stays silent, moving off his gaze from you to his toes to avoid eye contact, he didn't want you to see the tears in his eyes. Looking weak to someone was the last thing he wanted at the moment.

..However, it seems you weren't the type of guy to give up easily. ''..Is everything okay, no eyebrow guy?'' Judging from the huge scar on his head and his pinkies, which had been cutted off, he indeed does not looks okay, but you still try to help.

''Just go away.'' Is all Kenta could manage to get out of his mouth, now glaring at you once again, no tears in his eyes anymore, his eyes only showed pure fury as you can't help but feel a shiver down your spine.

''And, what if i say no? Did- did some kids bully you? i can beat them up for a good price if you desire. Was it one of your family member? I can't beat them if they are too older than me though.''

Ugh, for fucks sake.. you talk too much. Too damn much. No, it wasn't some damn brat who caused him to end up in a situation like this, nor one of his family member. It was a..

''A YAKUZA! gasp! IT WAS A YAKUZA, WASN'T IT?! Damn it!! Japan is really becoming a cruel place! A YAKUZA DID THIS TO YOU, DIDN'T THEY?!'' You shout to Kenta, who was now no longer hugging his legs, sitting with his legs crossed as you glanced at him with both of your eyebrows raised, your eyes wider than ever before. ''It's okay, no eyebrow guy. See this katana? As you can see, i, Y/N L/N am also a yakuza.'' An obvious lie escapes your mouth. ''I took lives of so many yakuzas that i stopped counting after.... after i hit 2000.'' You rise your chest and smile confidently. ''Just tell me their name and i'll bring their head to you. Or their balls. Alright? so.. just- cheer up already.''

You can't be a yakuza. He doubts that you even know how to fight. Damn you probably don't even know what a yakuza is. ''..and, what will you get from it?''

''..Money?''

''I don't have any.''

''Weapons?''

''...''

''Deserts?''

''...''

''Well, any kind of toys?''

''...''

''Damn it! what else is there?! ..'' You left out a sigh, as if you're a 27 year old bussiness man who was struggling with his work, when you were just 12 years old. ''Alright, you weak crybaby. I will do this for.. uh, for nothing at all, oka-'' 

A punch aimed right into your face was enough to interrupt your speech, ''WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!?!?'' 

''Dont you dare call me weak.'' He utters, his fists clenched in both rage and annoyance, which received a frown and pout from you.

''You bitch head! I just offered you help and look what you're doing! You think i don't know how to fight?! Huh?! HUH?!'' You get into a fighting position with your clenched fists in front of your chest.

...Long story short, you tried to aim a punch at him, and, well, you seemed to be unexpectedly shocked at the sight of you ending up on the ground instead of him. God damnit.. your chest really hurt. ''Auch.. t-th- the floor is.. so slippy here.. ha..hahaha..'' You chuckle nervously as you try to get up, but a slight chuckle coming from Kenta stops you midway. 

..He chuckled? Even in the slightest, he really managed to chuckle.. not forced, nor fake. The chuckle may not be so loud, but it was enough to feel you proud of yourself, while Kenta was completely confused.. It was the first time he chuckled in these last 2 weeks since that terrible day. Considering that he used to be a kid who laughed and giggled a lot, not laughing in the slightest for 2 whole weeks was not expected for a child like him.

''H-hey! The fuck you laughing at, ya little bitch?!'' 

Here you go again, trying to sound utterly mature and intidaming.. Kenta turns his back and prepares to leave, trying to ignore your annoying presence. ''Hey! You can't just leave like that! we are friends now.'' 

''..Friends? And who says that?'' Kenta glares at you, only turning his head back to look at you.

''Right, friends! If you talk with someone you just met for 7 minutes, you become friends.. but if you talk to someone you just met for more than 7 minutes, you become lovers.'' You explain with pure confidence, which Kenta replies with one eyebrow raised, clearly judging you and your stupidity.

''..And where did you learn that bullshit from?''

''A fairy in my dream told me.''

Yeah, you were definetely nothing like a yakuza.

..Yet, you still somehow managed to be friends with Kenta, spending lots of times together, chatting with each other, Kenta teaching you several kyokushin karate moves.. In fact, you two became inseparable.

Until that day.

Its been like a year since the first day you saw Kenta crying alone in that alley, your bond with him was really strong and you two didn't seem to have any problems with each other. However, for the last few weeks, you started avoiding him for some odd reason he unfortunately wasn't aware of.

''Y/N, wanna have a walk?''

''Y/N, want me to treat you a desert?

''Y/N, wanna watch anime together?''

You always answered these questions with a simple 'no', or you were suddenly feeling sick out of nowhere, you always had an excuse. He started to feel anxious to the sudden change in your behavior, thats why both of you were now sitting on grasses, you obviously avoiding his gaze as his gaze pierced into your soul.

''Y/N.'' He starts, ''Did i do something wrong?''

You stay silent, still observing the light green grasses under you, being silent was not suiting for a person like you, and he wasn't used to seeing you silent like this either.

''..Y/N.'' He tries once again, hoping to get an answer from you this time.

''Y..yes, damn it! Yes you did!''

You finally gather all your pride and glare at him, a cherry red tint spreading across both of your cheeks as he slightly raises his eyebrows in confusement. ''I did? But- what did i do though? Why didn't you tell me about it earlier?''

''Because i dont know the reason either!''

You were really starting to confuse him. ''What do you mean by that?''

''I hate you! I dont know why, i dont know how, i dont know when, i just, hate you! I dont like you anymore!'' You finally shout out the words out loud, gripping the grasses tigther, Kenta looks even more anxious now, were you playing another trick on him? was this just a silly joke?

''Y-Y/N, what are you trying to imply? I apologize if i did something to hurt or upset y-''

''Whenever i see you and your, ugliest pretty face, my stomach hurts, damn it! It must mean that i hate you, wouldn't it?! I asked my mother about it but, she just laughed! What did you do to me, huh?! Did you curse me?!'' 

Oh. Now he gets it.

''..What kind of hurt, Y/N?''

'' 'What kind of hurt' ? Seriously?! I have no idea! It hurts, but, it, it hurts whenever im with you, but it hurts even more whenever im not with you! It feels as if, something is eating me from my inside! It feels weird, it feels good but it hurts at the same time!''

''..It feels good?.. .. Well.. my chest also hurts whenever im with you too.''

''So you also hate me??''

''No. I love you.'' He coos, making sure it was loud enough for you to hear it, avoiding your gaze as he tried his best to hide his now blushing cheeks.

Your eyes widens in shock, feeling the heat on your cheeks, you slightly tilt your head ''WHAT?! you LOVE me?? not as friends ?? like, love love? ''

''When you love someone, your chest hurts and.. and you feel excited..'' He confesses, his fists clenching. 

''And where did you learn this bullshit from?!'' 

''A fairy in my dream told me.''

Huh?

''NOW I GET IT! DAMN YOU, KENTA MAGAMI! YOU TALKED TO ME MORE THAN 7 MINUTES WHEN WE FIRST MET, DIDN'T YOU?! HUH?! THAT'S WHY YOU HAUNTED ME WITH THIS, STUPID LOVE THING DIDN'T YOU?!'' You get up, teeths clenched, glaring down at him. ''WELL, LOVE MAKES PEOPLE WEAK! YOU HEAR ME?! IF IM WEAK THEN I CAN'T PROTECT Y- I MEAN THEN I CAN'T PROTECT MYSELF!'' You shout some nonsense, whatever came to your mind at that moment, then you burst out of there while Kenta sat there, a slight smile spreading across his lips.

He knew that he'd see you in front of his house the next day, crumpled flowers on both of your hands, probably asked your older relatives and got advince from them.

And he was right about that.

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

''Smoking without me?'' You snuggle up to him on bed, getting Kenta back to reality as you grab the cigaratte between his lips and put it on your lips, inhaling the last smoke, then setting down the cigaratte and extinguishing it on the ash tray which was on the table near the bed. ''You were suppossed to be asleep right now, Kentaaa.'' You whine, rubbing your head on his chest like a damn kitten. ''I know.'' 

''Then why are you still up, hm? Still thinking about that bastard? I told you that i would cut off his balls one day, just be patient, mkay? Besides, i should be the man who you're thinking about at nights! Not him!''

''You're right, i was. But it was mostly about you, though.'' He lets out a small chuckle as you slightly back away from him and then pull him into a snuggle, his head resting on your muscular chest.

''Well, i'm here. So stop thinking and just go to sleep then.'' 

''Right..''

Now to think about it..

You didn't hesitate for a single second when he offered you to come to Korea and join workers with him, which was the gang you were siding with right now. You couldn't give two shits about the other fuckers, that mitsuki girl, that sinu guy, that blonde guy whos name you forgot the first time you guys met -you refer to him as mitsuki's dog whenever you can't remember his name, and everyone seems to understand who you were talking about.- and that other guy whos name, uh.. well you forgot that too.. The reason why you came here was Kenta and the reason why you're staying here is also Kenta. Nothing else.

Lastly.. as a kid, you always knew how to fight. Your mother was a kyokushin karate teacher, so you knew several kyokushin karate moves, in fact, you were pretty good at it. Yet, on that day, the day where you first met Kenta, you pretended as if you had no idea how to fight, or how to throw a punch properly, just so you could make him laugh at the slightest.

You're strong. Even stronger than him, and you know it. But he doesn't, and he doesn't has to, you don't want to make him feel week.

You can keep this little secret to yourself.

#Kenta magami #Lookism x reader #x reader ffs r not really my thing so #but anyway #if there r any mistakes sorry abt that i hate proofreading #AEGGGHHHHHHRRRGRGRHHR #i suckat writimg man #for @backshotsdevil #yeppii #this is the first time i write a character x reader help dnnddkd

[carnivorousyandeere]

this isn't the person that asked for it but i was inspired by the ask! could we get the wolf pack being super sweet or how they'd react to a super insecure darling? that's the one i need, pls, im craving it just as badly as the other anon i swearrr

Here you go!! Here’s them interacting with an insecure darling. Hana, Mason, and Hunter would be the best out of the pack at treating you very gently and sweetly ♡

If there’s one benefit to being the pack’s, it’s that there’s always someone to stay with you when you need it. If you need to be “alone,” they’re okay with that too, although you can certainly expect one or more of them to be hidden and keeping an eye on you at any time.

CW: self-hatred/loathing, depression, insecurity, reckless behavior, hints of body image issues and suicidal ideation, mentions of drugs and alcohol

Mateo

Mateo swings between being very sweet and reassuring (drunk girl you meet in a bathroom at a party energy strikes again), to just… not quite understanding why you dislike yourself or care so much about what other people think. Everyone else is just background characters, and you are the stars of the whole show— it simply doesn’t make sense for you to give a fuck what they think. He can kill anybody who makes you feel badly, if that helps…? Aha, just kidding! …Unless? 😏

Hana

Like Mateo, Hana is a little confused by your feelings. I mean, sure, she has her own nervous side hidden beneath her bravado, but she finds it so strange that you can relate to that, or that your feelings run even deeper and more harshly than that. You’re her whole world! You have six people who love you deeply, who would kill for you and die for you… what more could they possibly do to prove that you deserve that love and care? Hana works even harder to become a person you can trust and rely on. If you can’t trust yourself, maybe you can learn to trust her when she says you’re worth every star and planet in the sky.

Cyrus

Cyrus’ own self-worth is horrible. Things could go two ways with a Darling who feels similarly about themself— either the both of you can understand one another on a deep and intimate level and help build each other up, or you both spiral deeper down into depression together. Thankfully, with all the other wolves there, the second option is incredibly unlikely. One of them will always be there to pull you both back from your thoughts.

Ace

Ace’s own recklessness belies a strange mix of arrogance and deeply-buried self-hatred, but he doesn’t even see it. If you display similar behavior to him, it still won’t occur to him that the way the both of you are going about things is unhealthy. In fact, he would love having you at his side, drinking, partying, and fighting the nights away. He gets defensive whenever the other wolves suggest that he needs to rein it in a bit, and doubly so if he feels they’re “criticizing,” you in the process.

However, if you cry around him, display vulnerable feelings, or just go into a quieter depressive state, Ace is the one who panics. He has no idea how to handle this, but tries his best. He does love you, even if he’s got a warped view of what love means.

Hunter

Hunter is especially good if you’re insecure about your body. He’s had his own struggles with his body in the past. However, he’s never doubted his own mind, experiences, and worthiness. It concerns him deeply if you do. He is very gentle and patient with you, preferring to err on the side of caution, even if you express that being treated so kindly makes you feel guilty.

Mason

Mason will hold you when you cry, and listen to you talk if you want to, but he’s definitely not going to be one of the ones who pries into your feelings (Hana, Mateo mostly; Hunter and Cyrus to a smaller extent). He doesn’t need to understand why you feel that way, or try to talk you out of your feelings the way they do. He’s alright just sitting with you where you are, even though it does hurt to know how little you think of yourself. He won’t express that pain unless prompted, fearful that you might feel the need to reassure him rather than the other way around.

#mail 📬 #oc mateo #oc Hana #oc Cyrus #oc ace #oc Hunter #oc Mason #werewolf #yandere werewolf #werewolves #werewolf pack #my thoughts #yandere #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere cw #cw self loathing #cw self hatred

[yuukei-yikes]

i was thinking abt how ayano and shintaro r the only two characters who ever die by suicide (shintaro is only in some routes but STILL.) and like how that's a way of showing that they had the potential to understand each other (bc in my opinion they r actually very similar) but not until either of them were dead. idk does this make sense? i just thought of this today so this thought isnt very refined yet i need to think abt it more

they ARE similar!!!!! i totally agree. shintaro and ayano are totally similar people. they're both Justice Seekers but are so depressed and have such horrible self worth they can't actually be proactive about things. but then they are :3

i wish we got ayano pov from hs and why she liked shintaro. I've always thought ayano's crush on him is...cute!!! because she's literally going thru the horrors, her mom died, her dad is being Strange, and she has to take care of the house and her siblings all alone PLUS later learning of all the horrible stuff about the daze and clearing. and yet. she's also a normal hs girl who has a silly crush on her classmate. not that we ever saw it but i definitely think ayano got to see at least once the shintaro we see who fights for good and doesn't let fear get to him like when he yells at the fucking terrorists or acts all cool when they face clearing in the novels. i think ayano got to see shintaro being Heroic or whatever and she was like THIS is the kind of guy we need to be recruiting in the mekakushi dan🔥🔥🔥 like seriously im delusional abt this but i think there should be a shinaya backstory abt this.

man i wish we saw more hs shinaya😭😭😭😭😭 im so mad that they only ever show shintaro being a fucking asshole lord in hs like im not rooting for you bitch FAST FORWARD NOW but the fact ayano knows shintaro likes music and shoujo manga etcetc its clear ayano and shintaro had normal ass conversations all the time. SHOW THEM TO MEEEEEE whatever. i dont even care <- cares

anyways i just wanted to say i think ayano does Kind of understand shintaro. i also wish we saw ayano think of shintaro in the entire conjecture with clearing eyes killing haruka and takane and her sacrificing herself for them and the mekatrio. Go listen to full disclosure from steven universe and you will understand my ayano vision for this. sorry that was weird. i think ayano wanted to keep shintaro as uninvolved as possible, haruka and takane were inevitably already in it. she just wanted to make sure to take them Out of it but shintaro.. i think ayano always had the feeling shintaro would get involved. i think ayano gravitates towards shintaro because she needed help and she needed a hero and deep down she knew this was him. but she never manages to properly reach out or even understand it i guess. but i think ayano did understand shintaro maybe even more he understood himself. on the other hand shintaro DID NOT understand ayano AT ALL but like you said, he could have. who knows how things had gone if shintaro had walked in when he saw ayano crying in the classroom!!! imagine ayano managing to pour her heart out and tell him what's gonna happen to their friends and her family. he would've helped. shintaro would've done something. but ayano wouldn't want him to bc he would get hurt but at the same time she WOULD want him to because she's so scared and alone and desperate for help *holds head *

also i always make myself insane abt shintaro and ayano being depressed legends who wanna die. while haruka and takane struggle with health problems and want to Live So Badly. sorry for bringing up harutaka Hi its me tumblr user yuukei yikes vinnie i will ALWAYS make it about harutaka. i just wanted to say that. shinaya who wanna die and tragedy arises from never meeting in the middle and not being able to understand each other vs harutaka who wanna live more than anything and tragedy arises from being forcibly separated.

ayano's words to takane when she's projecting so hard. there are times you want to tell someone something but you wind up being too late. ayano was never gonna say anything to shintaro because she didnt Want to. she knew what she was going to the roof for. while takane immediately makes a run for it to say something to haruka, she is just too late and has no control over her fate. whatever im normal!

#ask tag #kagenalysis #shinaya

[eddiemunsonswhxre]

where have i been?

an update for those curious.

hey there my loves, long time no see.

i’m not sure how many of you will actually read this or care to see why i haven’t written in over a year now but typing this stuff out helps me process and get back into my groove.

well, today is january 16, 2024. the last thing i posted that was an actual one shot was posted on january 3, 2023. i haven’t written since. 2023 was my worst year yet and caused me to learn a lot about people and myself.

things were going alright in the beginning, i was in my second semester of college and my biggest problem was 2 of my 3 roommates (lived in a quad) hated each other so me and my bestie/3rd roommate had to play mediator and it was exhausting. i started liking a guy and got my hopes up. and i started to get more and more annoyed with school and my living situation every day. i was ecstatic to move out of that room despite hating my hometown. the day of move out, one of my roommates who i thought was someone very close to me blocked me and all of our friends on everything with no explanation but we knew she wasn’t coming back for 23-24.

i like where i grew up for a maximum of a week at a time, after that my depression just kicks my ass and im not having a great time. my plan for the summer was to work my ass off so much so that i wouldn’t have time to think of anything else. that backfired, because a few days after i came home one of my two jobs fell through unexpectedly and my other job was giving me less than half the hours they promised me. i was broke. everyone says it’s so easy to get a job these days because everyone is hiring but i applied to over ten places within a reasonable distance from me and didn’t get a single one. so i spent too much time with myself and that’s not normally a good thing.

to make matters even worse, in june my mom was sentenced to three years in prison for a crime she committed back in 2020. i don’t want to get into too many specifics, but my mom would never harm anyone she just has struggled with addiction. my mom was my constant emotional support, and knowing she was no longer going to be around ripped me to shreds. not even a month later after my mom was shipped off to prison, my dog died. and i know you might think “dogs die all the time it’s a pet.” but my dog was much more than that. she wasn’t even three years old and was a beautiful great pyrenees german shepard mix and she was the sweetest girl ever. i don’t care how ridiculous it sounds, because i know my soul and hers were meant to be together. i was even in the process of registering her as an emotional support animal so i could take her to college with me because she was finally old enough and for the most part out of the puppy phase. but one night out of nowhere she got really sick and within an hour of her showing signs something was wrong she died while i was holding her. not the greatest thing for a 19 year old who’s already struggling to experience. it took my over a month to stop seeing her like that every time i closed my eyes. call me dramatic, but that dog really was a child to me.

after that, i went to stay with my cousin for a few weeks and that was nice but i still knew i wasn’t feeling right. i moved back to school in august and had way too high of hopes that everything would fix itself. surprise, it didn’t. in fact, i just got worse. i reached lows i haven’t hit in over two years. i was having roommate problems, i was trying to do way too much at once, and i was neglecting my health. i had a breakdown.

the highlight of my semester was taking a week off to visit my best friend since age 2 for her birthday (she lives roughly a 2 hour plane ride away from me now) with our other two best friends. then i came back and immediately totaled my car. my car was a piece of shit yes, but it got me places. not having a car when you’re a person who drives around to destress is not fun. i was even worse mentally at this point and i was trying so so hard to get into my overbooked doctor to get my medications raised. the only constant i had were my three friends at school and my studies. so i threw myself into them. i was never alone and if i was i was nose deep in a text book. i was just avoiding the rest of my existence. i was able to get my meds upped and decided i was done wallowing. i started a diet that is actually manageable and enjoyable and discovered for the first time workouts that i actually liked doing. it was something small, but i knew i was turning myself around.

i went home for winter break knowing it was going to be tough. i also had to spend this time looking for a new car. it was an extremely stressful process to say the least. but i focused on myself, taking all the time for myself that i needed and processing everything that had made me get to such a bad place. i’ve always been very spiritual, so i dove more into that as well as trusting the universe.

i’ve decided that 2024 will be my best year yet. i got a new car, im getting a new job, im doing great in school, my mom is getting released from prison literally six hours after i post this, and im taking care of myself in more ways than one. while doing a lot of that reflecting, i remembered how much i used to love to write and how that passion just died after loving it since i was ten. i started small, doing short story exercises and getting into reading again. i finally, after an entire year, have my passion for writing back.

i can’t promise i’ll be consistent with uploads because i’ve decided that my goal for the year is to write a novel. so that project is going to be my main focus and it isn’t anything fanfic related, it’s actually a psychological thriller. more than likely i will be asking for opinions on here throughout the year as well.

with that said, my plans this year for this blog are to keep posting. eddie munson is mainly who i write for, but i want to expand my horizons. i want to challenge myself with genres and types of characters. i will greatly appreciate any requests you can give and i promise i will read through them. if i don’t post them right away, just know it may come out three months later. sometimes inspiration sparks at weird times.

if you’ve read this far, thank you. i hope this can inspire you to see that there’s light at the end of the tunnel but sometimes you’ve gotta dig the extra dirt to it yourself. beyond thankful to anyone who was here a year ago and has come back to read my new stuff- you made an aspiring writer really proud of herself.

much much love

-eddiemunsonswhxre 🤍

#eddiemunsonswhxre #i’m back #mental health is important

[wp-blaze]

The Magnificent Puzzle of Love

Like a complex puzzle, love presents itself in myriad forms, each piece unique yet interconnected. Let’s dive into the depths of this magnificent puzzle, tracing its patterns, unveiling its mysteries, and celebrating its magnificent beauty. As we attempt to piece together the puzzle of love, we inevitably confront questions of meaning and purpose. What does […]

[liverpool-enjoyer]

footballers as taylor swift songs

requested by my swiftie in Christ @yudgefudge!! thank you luv <3

leo: you're on your own, kid. ive been associating him w this song way before i knew that everyone else was doing the same lmao. it rlly does encompass his entire journey, from humble beginnings n jus being a little kid playing for fun (from sprinkler splashes/to fireplace ashes), to being the best in the world n all the struggles that come with it (i search the party.../just to learn that my dreams arent rare). the man gave his blood sweat n tears like hed be saved by a the "perfect kiss" which here is a metaphor for the wc obviously. n ohmygosh "everything you lose is a step you take"!!!! BRUH???!?!?! every line, from "i didnt chose this town (ie paris)/i dream of getting out/theres just one who could make me stay", to "the jokes werent funny, i took the money/my friends from home dont know what to say" are all SO leo coded.

ney: anti-hero. i ADORE him n theres a lot of people that like him. but theres also a lot of people who like not liking him. hes one of the best in the world, and as great as that is, he has, unjustifiably so, garnered a significant amount of haters (its me, hi, im the problem, its me/at tea time, everybody agrees). hes rlly endured a ton of it throughout the years, but keeps going (pierced through the heart/but never killed). after facing so much backlash, youd probly worry about the people that still support you and how much longer you can hold on to that (one day i'll watch as youre leaving/and life will lose all its meaning). also, hes a rich person. which makes the bridge pretty relatable for him but like in a funny way.

gavi: nothing new. this one is more based off my inner musings than actual like evidence. i have no idea whats going on this lil dudes head. but i know that IF i were in his position, i'd relate to this song a FUCK TON. its basically a song abt being in the spotlight, n being the shiny young thing that has peoples attention. but what happens when thats not true anymore? (Lord, what will become of me/once ive lost my novelty?) what happens in a few years when an even younger prodigy comes around n impresses everyone? (are we only biding time 'til i lose your attention?/and someone else lights up the room?/people love an ingénue). im not gonna write down the whole birdge but its basically abt the inevitably of meeting your replacement. the song basically asks: "will you still want me/when im nothing new?" he seems like a happy dude who probly doesnt think abt this stuff, but if i were a famous promising young soccer player, this stuff would definitely weigh on my mind.

muller: the story of us. Lord forgive my mullendowski heart. i tried to think of a song that would fit jus him n leave shipping out of it but,,, yeah it wasnt happening. in my mind theyre a package deal. anywho the song's about being around someone youre still in love with after youve broken up (now im standing alone in a crowded room/and we're not speaking and im dying to know/is it killing you like its killing me). ik theyre on good terms n all but in my mindbrain i imagine him them being in the same place for the first time since lewy left him bayern and poor thomas jus "nervously pulling at my clothes/and trying to look busy." and my gosh "but you held your pride like you shouldve held me"??? the AUDACITY. i can go off about this whole song tbh. oh n also even tho speak nows a country album this song is kinda,,, rock/punk-ish kinda??? which is to say, its very loud. much like a certain someone. fun fact i almost put seven for him bc of "before i learned civility/i used to scream ferociously/anytime i wanted" but i figured one line wasnt enough for me to put the whole song.

mbappe: evermore. this is a brooding song. a depression song. so i can definitely see this as a post 2022 world cup final song for him. it actually relates to a sports loss very well. (i used to listen to this song n think a oikawa from haikyuu,,, heh). if theres one thing abt mbappe its that hes dedicated. i can see him "replay(ing) my footsteps on each stepping stone/trying to find the one where i went wrong," yknow, jus thinking abt the final over n over. very "i rewind the tape but all it does is pause/on the very moment all was lost." but at the end of it all, hes young, hes talented, n has more world cups ahead of him. ie: "i had a feeling so peculiar/this pain wouldnt be for/evermore."

klopp: dear reader. this whole song is just advice. its taylor dishing out advice to her fans, most of whom are younger than her. kloppo loves his players, he wants to give them good advice that applies not only on the pitch, but off it as well. (dear reader/bend when you can, snap when you have to/dear reader/you dont have to answer, just cause they asked you) however its no secret that our lovely manager can be pretty hard on himself. so its possible that while he gives advice to those he loves, he feels like hes not worthy of giving it (you wouldnt take my word for it/if you knew who was talking).

again, everything stated is speculation, fueled entirely by my delusional lil mindbrain. as i dont know these ppl.

#im sooooooooo sorry i didnt put as many as i normally do this was TOUGH #like youd think this would be easy for me but a lotta the times i'd find a song that i can only connect a player to a single lyric of #so it was a struggle #also i put my WHOLE ass into this so i WILL do a shameless reblog if i see fit #leo messi #neymar #gavi #thomas muller #robert lewandowski #mullendowski #kylian mbappe #jurgen klopp

[evansblues]

Hello. I did a reading on this "marriage" today it was very forth coming. It was pretty long when I 1st typed it up but I'm going to try to keep it as short and simple as I can. Im tired and I have to save energy for some work tomorrow. I just wanna state when I drew the 1st two cards, I wanted to stop, there's really no need to say more then those two cards to me.

6 of Pentacles (rx)

King of Cups (rx)

Star

Knight of Pentacles(rx)

Well with that Six of Pentacles as the first card out in reverse. It's definitely leading to more business than Romance. And the fact that it's reversed leads to it being a bad business. It is also the card of cons being played out. So seeing this card at the top of the reading about a marriage just leads me to know that this is all business real or fake the marriage is not based in love. Because it is followed by that king of cups in reverse. Now I will be happy to see a king of cups in a marriage spread but it's in reverse after the 6th of coins. This is a turbulent card in this position this is repressed emotions, unhappy, Moody, sulky depressed feelings. Yeah just how you wanna feel after getting married. Another This is also the con man card, this card following the six of pentacles, both in Reverse means a con is happening. But who is the Mark? These cards point to something is not as it seems and we shouldn't trust what we are being told and shown. The king of cups reversed is also an un-romantic unloving position for this card. The next card is the Star, Again a card I expect to see in a marriage reading. the star is overall a very positive card of Hope and inspiration but following behind those two cars in reverse that mean a con is happening Im gonna say it not that. In this case we have to look at the Star Card based off of the cards surrounding it just because it's not in Reverse doesn't mean it means it's a hopeful card. there is a disconnect here with the Star card surrounded by the cards it is. this leads me to believe that the star card is a negative card in this reading. there is more likely an energy of being disengaged from what is happening. there is no hope here with this star card in this reading instead the energy is more of a feeling of despondence. Whatever is going on here is not going to bring positive things the star is followed by the knight of Pentacles in reverse again the beginning of this reading is full of Pentacles and this is just leans business with No Love, just business. The knight of Pentacles in Reverse is the card of bad Investments, poor business skills, no long-term plans. and since this was a reading on a marriage if this card shows up just expect these themes  Lack of Commitment, Unfaithful, Lacking Foundation,you know all wonderful things I guess you want to have in a Marriage reading. I think not! this is all BOGUS! in terms of love and happiness.

Next I wanted to know about the current emotional feelings here. I had to ask specifically since it seems not to want to come out at first.

6 of cups (rx)

The Hermit(rx)

8 of cups(rx)

The next card is the six of cups in reverse. This is a card of moving on sweet Freedom. This is a card of letting go and cutting the ties and also being free from any obligation that was holding you back. What a strange card to have in a wedding in marriage reading. I have never known one person who wants to be cut from the ties That Bind when they just got married a month ago. this card is followed by The Hermit card in reverse. The Hermit card is one of the cards that usually pops up for Chris a lot of times so I'm not shocked to see the hermit card in this reading as well. And in it's reverse position The Hermit card is loneliness and isolation. A feeling of withdrawal from society or Social engagements that is not a card you want to see when you have just gotten married or say you're married. what a very confusing thing we have going on here the next card that follows is the 8 of cups in reverse. SO we just going to stay in an unhappy situation huh? Because that what this card means. You are pretending to be happy and putting on a facade that you are. it is a superficial and shallow energy with this one. there is a lack self-esteem and self-worth here therefore people involved will tend to choose things that make you unhappy and you accept as what you're worthy of. This is also the card of fear of commitment another great card to have in a Wedding Marriage spread. we got some winners in here people. Not Surprised not one love card came out. MESS! Emotional Mess

Next I wanted to know possible next step or outcome of this whole thing. I want to note that because this is just possible incoming energy there is always a chance that it will change. It can change in 1 hour from the reading or 1 year after. this is an interpretation/representation of the energy not a law set in stone.

5 of Pentacles

King of Swords(rx)

Ace of wands(rx)

7 of Swords

The Fool(rx)

10 of wands

Oh great the five of Pentacles another Pentacle in this reading that should be just filled with cups upright for Mr. Happiest he's ever been. This is a card of hardship. This is a negative change in circumstances You know that feeling you have no idea what you're doing or how you are going to come out of this. a card of loneliness, you feel like your life is in ruin. Maybe struggling relationships particularly in business. This card will lead you to bad decisions based in Desperation. WOW! this card is also is a card of separation and divorce most likely because you were in a scandalous improper relationship. This card is followed by the King of Swords in reverse. Another card that means depression is stress and mental confusion followed by poor judgment. this is just some beautiful marriage and love cards we got going on here :shakes head:. this is a card of an uncaring energy, oppressive almost. this isn't a card you want when you're asking about being married. it is also the card of The Bachelor but you didn't here that from me. this card is followed by the Ace of Wands in reverse. This is the thumbs down Card. just blocks and delays to what was playing out here. This is a card that you just struggling through no matter what's happening because you already got yourself into it. you're tired and you don't want to do it but you have to do it. The next card is the 7 of swords. The seven the swords is the card of Mind Games and tactics that are being played out this is someone plotting and planning something. I already know this is con what else is coming. This is a sneaky cunning card I guess matches those "con"cards at the top of the reading. something is about to played out if you ask me. Funny thing this is also a card that wants you to try to figure out a way to escape what is holding you back because it is getting in the way of progress. so we'll see what happens. this card was followed by the fool in reverse. The Fool is reckless, careless, quite stupid in this position. But he's got a lot of Hope and Faith that what is in the works or coming doing will turn out just right but they're most likely going to fall on their ass in the process. The last card is the 10 of Wands. This card has come up several times about this situation. It's a card that we are almost in the home stretch. This the card of burdens being hauled to the finale. We are almost done carrying this heavy load you would think the tens that we will get in a marriage spread will be the 10 of cups or the 10 of Pentacles but no we get the 10 of Wands we're carrying a heavy burden and it is time we are at the end. Soon we can let it go. drop that pile of heavy sticks we've had. we have done everything that was Our obligation and did to our commitments. we're burnt out this is no longer been fun so throw the whole thing in the trash. funny I see these last three cars the 7 of Swords, the fool(rx)and the 10 of Wands as kind of positive. As for who, Im not sure and honestly dont care

i wanna make a note of something I noticed during this reading

SO MANY REVERSES. it's Topsy Turvy

those two 6s where really "loud" to me. The 6s in tarot are about stability and security or having the opportunity to find it. These are things that sound great for a marriage reading but for the 6 of Pentacles to start the reading off is very strange. and the 6 of cups is also in reverse, I don't see that strong stability and security here. The "money/business" and the emotion 6 in reverse here suggest that those two areas are facing some sort of conflict. you are pretty much stuck in the situation. maybe there is a want to seek that stability but something is standing in the way or you are just sitting around hoping it will work it's self out.

also I'm sorry this is a novel

Don’t be sorry, that’s an excellent reading. I like how you explained that a good card surrounded by less good cards isn’t actually so good.

Thank you

[marrow-minded]

v7/v8 made me dislike ruby a lot but v9 made me really side with her. i've been in her shoes, with having to put on a strong happy face for everyone because their problems always seem to be bigger than mine.

but to see yang walk ahead of blake to shield her from ruby really broke me. like?? do you not know your own sister?? do you genuinely think she'd harm her own teammate??

blake doesn’t need protection, and it’s weird how yang tries to shield her like ruby is about to hurt her. i get bumbleby's whole thing is "we're protecting each other"

but that doesn't mean go and protect blake (who has shown she can hold her own in a verbal argument anyway) against your own sister, yang!

sorry for the rant, i just am in shock that this was written and executed this way with no one thinking of how ruby would feel from this. ruby was somehow more effected by jaune's rant (which, while valid, doesn't change the fact that jaune basically held a whole town hostage for 10-20 years) than by yang shielding blake.

as a certified Older Sibling that actually had to raise their siblings, its so wild to me how the writers seem to not want them to be sisters during this volume

:readmore:

like. from rubys seeming confusion at weiss saying "about time" to yang and blake flirting-- bc ruby is the team leader, she should be aware of the interpersonal development of her teammates, and also thats her SISTER ur telling me ruby wouldnt be a lil shit about her sisters crush on blake?-- to the more obvious, egregious issues that yang displays the entire volume about ruby and her mental health, its increasingly obvious to me that the writers of rwby struggle with writing their characters to have multiple different dynamics and relationships with multiple people, either from a lack of skill or an inability to diversify their characters emotional states

thats the problem with a) having all four main girls personalities mimic and mirror each other. there very little between their dialogue (until v9) that distinguishes them from each other; the words blake says could have been spoken by yang, whose lines could have been weiss', whose lines could have been rubys, whose lines could have been blakes, etc etc. until we get to v9 where suddenly blake is this flirty happy "bridge between humans and faunus" who can make plans when rubys unable to, who is more than happy to lead them through a fairytale without a care for the real world. and yang is back to being her quick to violence jokester, who seemingly never learned a lesson about starting fights and relying on her semblance. weiss is literally a joke, her character swinging rapidly between sadness for her fallen kingdom and physical comedic relief thats kinda... odd. and ruby... well. we know what rubys like in v9. but the point of all this is Suddenly all four girls are acting Very Different, not just between themselves but between their previous selves. it makes me wonder if these new personalities (sans depressed ruby who just had to be told her mother loved her and she kinda got over it all) going forward-- but this all means that yang and blakes relationship HAS to take priority for both characters at the loss of their other dynamics. we got half a second of blake and weiss actually talking and working together (which they failed, btw, somehow weiss and blake, the two smart ones, couldnt figure it out) where we get them shyly saying "im glad youre here" as if theyre barely friends, we dont get to see either of them actually find each other or ruby and the reunion-- but blake gets to glomp yang and cling to her and cry and have yang comfort her and hold her tight; weiss and ruby, who are also partners dont get that. RUBY AND YANG WHO ARE SISTERS DONT GET THAT.

which leads me into b) why are the teams even done the way they are. why is there an assigned team leader. isnt the whole point and culture of remnant that everyone is unique, every one has something special they can bring to a team? shouldnt a team of four be on equal footing with each other, where if there is a team leader its due to a vote by the members OF SAID TEAM? not some literal stranger after seeing one (1) fight based off the relics they picked on the first day of school?

idk thats more of just a flaw on rwbys worldbuilding and how frankly its kinda Silly to give ruby this angst about being team leader when A) multiple characters throughout the show have shown not to he happy and cheerful all the time and have never been punished for it, and those characters have only been met with love and support; where is this idea coming from where ruby thinks she cant be upset? she was literally upset a day ago when finding out about the hound and yang actively comforted her. nora was met with love and support with HER suicide attempt, was that why ruby veered to this extreme? idk and B) she spent more time as a member of RNJR and then as a conglomeration of two teams + two adults, and then they were huntsmen in atlas, where we didnt see team RWBY actually be a team at all.

anyways im spiraling off into other issues with the writing bc every bad writing choice in rwby spawns from fifteen others scattered throughout the show lol

as for ruby being more affected by jaunes outburst than yang defending ruby... well if i was ruby, id also be used to yang prioritizing blake and herself over me this point; both of them are basically strangers to me with all the shit they went through and all the shit i went through when we werent in each others lives and neither of them seem to be able to function without each other-- given that yang spent the whole time blowing up at ren and worrying about blake, and blake was unable to kill a single grimm without begging for help from ruby-- and jaune has been rubys best friend since the first day of beacon, and they have genuinely spent more time being partners and working together than ruby has had with any of her teammates. and regardless of what we, the audience, feel about his rant, to RUBY hes right; it IS all about her. the weight of the world is on her shoulders and she thinks shes fucking everything up and jaune just validated those feelings of failure, albeit unintentionally, given his own debilitated mental state

(i dont think i precisely agree the the paper pleasers were hostage but to be fair i think the whole paper pleaser thing was stupid in general bc when they ascend... they just have the same purpose? theyre just made of like gemstones instead of folded paper which isnt much of an improvement in the destructability scale tbh lol i see the paper pleasers as more metaphorical in a meta sense but then again i watched all of v9 blitzed out of my gourd so im not an expert and also everyone is entitled to their own interpretations lol)

sorry for just sort of going off and away from the main point of ur ask which was about the warped dynamic of yang and ruby; like i said, ever issue spirals back and around to twelve other problems and v9 is TERRIBLE WITH IT. v9 is just so WEIRD and not in a cool interesting way but in a... filler ooc way. it confuses my brain the way a tangled strand of a fine delicate necklace compels me; it looks interesting and sometimes i make a breakthrough but mostly its just tangled up in a weird knot that only seems to get worse the more i try and unravel it

#thanks for the ask! #rwde #v9 spoilers #i could literally ramble forever about the failures of rwby.

[branmer]

saw a good thread about being perpetually single on twitter and it got me thinking

ive come to the conclusion, over time, that im not destined for romantic love. i was in love once in my twenties. it didn't work out, and at this point in my life im just coming to accept that im probably never going to find a partner. i thought i had accepted that already (and was enjoying my single life!) but i guess since i turned thirty the realisation of just how much harder a lot of things are (especially financially) when you are single is hitting me and ive been struggling with it more. it's knowing that you only have yourself to depend on the majority of the time and that whatever the future holds; happiness or disaster (the latter gives me so much anxiety about the future), you will endure alone. and then there's the social weirdness of living in a world that idealises romantic love above all others and looks down on singledom as a sad, lesser state. and it makes you feel bad about yourself and like there's something wrong with you. but, you know what, i am no longer interested in indulging in bad date after bad date just to make other people feel less weird about the fact that i am single and have been for a long time and will be for a long time in the future, likely the rest of my life. i am done. im making peace with it. i'd rather focus on the things in my life that are good, build the life that i want, independent and happy. i find value in my life and i enjoy it, and i'd rather embrace the benefits of my independence than dwell on the drawbacks

granted saying that is easier said than done, and probably i will live my entire life with a bit of longing in my heart (and fuck me if the last couple of years haven't been hard. there've been days where i've been so depressed about it i haven't been able to stomach shippy fanfic because romance upset me so much), but i want to enjoy the time i have on this earth and not spend it making myself miserable, and that's what im gonna try and do and maybe one day ill drown that cruel hope in a life that's good

idk probably none of this makes sense, im just rambling, but anyway this is the thread, it's really good. she articulates.... fucking everything ive been feeling, it's an incredible thread:

#if anyone wants to @ me with obnoxious platitudes along the lines of 'you'll find someone! it's not too late!!' #please do NOT #also don't suggest im aromantic or asexual im not #will probs delete later

[ecoamerica]

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