#they said they will give us new places but that they are not enough for everyone

[russellsppttemplates]

I'm right here! (Oscar Piastri)

People seem to forget you're dating Oscar

Note: english is not my first language. Another Oscar piece 🫶

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: jealous themes

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Do you think this will translate as well on the track though?", Phil, the head of the engineering department, asked as you showed him the latest set of data.

"Even with the interval we've set for changes, these numbers show it could improve performance, especially in race pace", you pointed to the calculations on the side.

"We would only have it for Miami, though", he reasoned, "we don't have enough time to get this done for Shanghai and I don't think it would be wise to test this in a track we haven't raced in five years", Amelia argued as you nodded in agreement, "but it looks promising - good job, Y/N", she patted your back.

"Would you feel comfortable talking about it in the meeting with Zak, Andrea and the mechanics? You have been the one working the most with this, makes sense for you to be the one taking point. Lando and Oscar should join you as well - I think they're doing something on the Sim", William mused.

"Absolutely! Yes, Oscar said he was driving a new set up and strategy Tom also wants to discuss in the meeting", you offered with a smile.

"Having insider information makes this easier - I don't have to check every single e-mail and wonder about things, especially Oscar's schedule", Amelia chuckled, rubbing your shoulder before she got up.

As everyone gathered in the meeting room, you set your laptop up so the latest data would be seen by everyone as you spoke about the changes, "we don't think nor expect this will be ready for China, but we're hoping to have the new package in Miami already - gives us enough time to work on it and the track there is ideal for us to have an idea of how this could play out for the rest of the season", you concluded.

"I agree - I think China will be damage control racing and we're accepting it as it goes", Andrea stated.

"We just need to get going with these then and also get the guys to try it out on the- Oh! Speaking of the devil", Zak chuckled as Oscar and Lando stepped inside the meeting room.

"So that's that, I think - thank you for all your work and let's hope we can bring some points next weekend", the British driver said before everyone scattered out.

Closing your laptop and getting your tablet, you held them against your torso so you could go and set them back to your station before lunch. You didn't make it very far as Oscar stood just outside the room, his hand snaking up your back carefully as he didn't want to startle you.

"Good morning, love", he smiled, kissing your cheek and walking with you.

"Morning, Osc", you kissed his cheek back, "how was training?", you wondered.

"Same old - went for a run this time, though, it was nice enough outside", your boyfriend offered as you reached your desk, tidying it a little bit before leaving to get some lunch, walking hand in hand.

You didn't expect to fall for a driver, especially after the relationship you had with Lando. You behaved like siblings, often pranking eachother, and it had helped you grow more confident around him and the senior staff when you felt you were all but a small intern. Over the years, you grew more comfortable as your ideas and pitches would get considered and tested, finally feeling like your place was well earned and that at the right time, the development would come to bring McLaren to the top where it belonged.

When Oscar joined the team, however, you didn't expect to feel the way you felt about the Australian driver. He was handsome, very shy and very kind and thoughtful as he sat all through the meetings as you explained the changes. Jeopardising your career was something you didn't want to do, but after some not so careful touches and glances, the team assured you it wouldn't be an issue in case you and Oscar were to pursue a relationship together.

"Here's my favourite team-mate! And she brought Oscar with her!", Lando joked as you sat at the same table as him.

Swatting his neck playfully, you sat down next to him so you could face Oscar as he put his tray down, "I will revoke new updates package from you and you'll be stuck in the midfield", you taunted before you started eating.

"Do you want to spend the night at my place? I need to sort a few things out still this afternoon, but I'm hoping I can leave on time today", you squinted your eyes.

"What do you mean on time?", Lando quirked an eyebrow.

"Yesterday, she got so caught up in the calculations, I barely got a text out of her when I asked her if she wanted to have dinner with me", Oscar chuckled as you held hands on top of the table, playing with his fingers, "what was it you texted me? 'I'm having a breakthrough' I think it was", your boyfriend offered.

"I did, though! Amelia checked it over and we might be onto something - I have to go to Race Base this afternoon so they can check them out", you shrugged your shoulders."We're spending the whole afternoon in the sim", Oscar checked with you, "when you get off, then we can leave together - how does that sound?".

Coming back to your place after you stopped by the supermarket, you set the bag on the counter and pulled out all of the ingredients you bought to make sure the dinner would be suitable and appropriate to Oscar's plan.

"I haven't had a proper cuddle today", Oscar pulled you to him, beggining to litter kisses on your forehead all the way to your cheeks and jaw, "I can't ever do this at the center", he mumbled against your neck, tickling you.

"We could, just where there are no other team members", you giggled before cupping his cheeks, "which happens to be nowhere most of the time", before you kissed his lips.

"I'm going to start working on the chicken", Oscar said after you stole a few kisses, "are you going to be in the Center for the race?".

"No, I'm travelling with the team", you smiled as you took the fresh pasta out of the bag, "which means we can spend more time together - and people will actually see us together", you mumbled the last part.

"People know we're together, love", he smiled, cutting up the last bit of garlic and tossing it in the pan.

"Sometimes it doesn't seem like it - they didn't see me in Jeddah and the rumours flew out of control", you wiped your hands on the kitchen towell before hugging Oscar's back, resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.

"You know how the media works - they see the smallest hint to something they want to see and then they're there", he offered, taking one of his hands to squeeze your hip, "you're the one here, aren't you?", he tsked.

.

"Where are you going?", Oscar asked as he saw you grab a tablet and push the chair back under the table, "I thought we could have some time together now".

"The stewards picked out eight cars at random to get checked over a few components - Mike and Barry are waiting for me", you offered, pecking his lips quickly, "hopefully they're just not messing around with our schedule because everything is supposed to be how it is!", you smiled before you started to walk out.

"I'll go with you, then", your boyfriend assured, "can't have you go to the wolves on your own when you can have company, beautiful".

Oscar walked up to the building with you, kissing your temple before you stepped inside, "I left some data from the sprint for you to look at, and tell Lando I also left a file for him with his tire deg - I told Will to do it, but he might forget!", you alerted before letting him go.

Knowing how long it would take, he went back to the McLaren garage, stopping whenever fans snapped a couple of pictures or autographs.

By the time you were back in the hotel room after the sprint and qualifying, Oscar went to the bathroom so he could have a shower, leaving you to lay on the bed and scroll through social media.

You looked at the photos the media team had posted, along with the stories where you could spot yourself in the background and spotted a few comments as you flicked through the carrousel of pictures, the comments under it weren't something you hadn't seen before.

Hear me out, Oscar and Elaine are the perfect match

I know, right? 😭 honestly, they need to get together! They would be so cute together

She's so polite and put together, but I get rhe vibe that she's really shy too, they would be perfect for eachother

Are we forgetting Y/N? aka Oscar's girlfriend

I still can't believe the people at the top have let their engineer date a driver

Y/N's way too out there, I call PR relationship

She couldn't even build a great car, I'm not sure why you would defend her

She was literally the reason the car and the turnaround last year and we started getting podiums?

These have been the best 12 months in terms of development, what are you on about? Just because she's with Oscar, you can't dig at her like that

The last few comments don't come up too often, but you had to admit it was nice when they did even if they did nothing to the way you felt.

The green eyed monster took over more times that you'd like. You work with numbers, probabilities and direct correlations, so it was hard to miss the reason behind how you were feeling.

"Why are you looking at your phone like that? You promised you wouldn't work once we got back to the room", Oscar warned, using the towell to dry his hair before he looked at you again.

"I'm not working", you mumbled, locking the phone and setting it on your stomach, pondering whether or not you should talk to Oscar about this.

"That long silence tells me that there is something bothering you", Oscar began, "I'm not saying you have to talk about it right now - I won't force you to -, but I'm here for you when you want to do it", he offered earnestly.

"I'm jealous of you and Elaine", you stated, earning a quirked eyebrow from your boyfriend.

"Me and Elaine? The communications' intern?", he looked for some clarification.

"Yes!", you answered loudly.

"We don't - I don't even spend that much time with her, what do you mean?", Oscar asked.

"I know you don't, but people online seem to think you should! First, it was that actress that McLaren invited for Abu Dhabi - the weekend where Natalie and Naomi kept approaching us because they wanted to chat and there was actual visual proof we were together after all the rumours -, now they're saying how you should go out with Elaine!", you admitted, "they're all saying you really should have someone and that she should be the one to go, that she has all the qualities you should look for and I-", you took a big breath in, "I'm literally over there, every single day of the races - in the garage, sometimes in the pitwall!", you stated, "I barely do any races from the Center anymore, so it's not like people forgot that I exist!".

"Love, I'd never do that to you - you're the only person I care about like that", Oscar replied instantly.

"I know you don't, but it hurts to see", you admitted, "comments people make about my boyfriend and how he really should start dating someone when our relationship is public - I'm there, I see them, they see me!", you let a tear fall down your cheek, "there's only so much I can do to make it obvious, Osc!".

Oscar sat down next to you on the bed, throwing the towell on the floor for the moment so he could pull you to face him.

"Y/N, I didn't know it was bothering you so much, I don't even notice all of that", your boyfriend craddled your face in his hands, thumbs wiping the tears that continued to fall and looking into your eyes.

"I never told you and I know you don't read all of the comments", you reasoned, "I just thought it would stop at some point! Everyone keeps saying that you should have someone and I want them to think I'm that someone - because I am!", you said bitterly.

"Is there something you'd like me to do? That would make you feel better about it?", Oscar combed your bangs away and behind your ears.

"What can we do anyway? Have you walk around with a t-shirt that says "I have a girlfriend - Y/N, the engineer"?", you scoffed.

"I will do that if you think it will help - throw in a headband with "Y/N's boyfriend" too if it helps!", he tried to pry a smile out of you.

"Don't be silly", you playfully shoved his chest before holding his hands in yours, "I honestly have no idea what to do, but I know I want it to stop without putting our jobs on the line", you pouted.

"Maybe an Instagram post from us then? Something chilled but serious enough so anyone can get the hint - and I wouldn't mind arriving into the paddock with you in the morning", your boyfriend suggested.

"Oscar, I have to be there way earlier than you need to", you argued.

"Then I'll be there earlier, I'll have breakfast there with you and we'll spend more time together in front of everyone - as much as you feel comfortable with", Oscar offered you an assuring smile, "I don't want anyone else the way I want you, I don't love anyone the way I love you, Y/N".

Smiling at the honesty and safety he was transmitting you, you kissed his lips, starting with small pecks before one last long kiss, letting your foreheads touch as you pulled away, "thank you, Osc, I love you".

The next morning, reporters were surprised when they saw the McLaren driver show up in the paddock so early, his hand laced in yours as they asked a couple of questions.

"My girlfriend had to come in earlier, so I thought I'd join her and see a little bit of the preparations", Oscar replied before you continued to walk to the McLaren hospitality.

"Is it bring your boyfriend to work day?", Anna asked after her usual morning greeting.

"He's always with me at work though", you squinted before giggling, "but I really need people to know he's mine and that I'm here!", you half joked.

#oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fluff

[nervoussagittarius]

furniture shopping + night out

matt sturniolo x influencer!reader

summary: your day in the life vlog ft. your boyfriend matt, request

warnings: fluff, maybe language

“good morning vlog” you said taking a sip of your coffee. the sun was just starting to come through your apartment windows as people filled the streets below. “i have a very exciting day planned today so i thought i’d intro the video now and we can chat for a minute.”

you began to get all of the ingredients out to make breakfast for you and matt while you talked to the vlog about your night. your videos tended to feel like a facetime call between you and your fans. everyone loved how personal and friendly they felt. “matt spent the night here yesterday, and i figured i’d be a good girlfriend and make us breakfast. i convinced matt to go to ikea with me this morning because i’ve been in this apartment for about a month now, and i still have no living room furniture. so we’re going to try to fix that.”

as you continued making breakfast matt finally woke up and decided to join you in the kitchen. “okay guys, be honest do these pancakes look good? i hope so. but i’m going to go wake matt up-” matt appeared from around the corner at this statement. “oh nevermind. hi baby! good morning.” matt, not being fully awake yet, gave you a small groan and fell into your arms for a hug. you returned it, holding him for what felt like hours. neither of you complained though. you and matt could be surgically attached and it still wouldn’t be close enough for the two of you.

you turned your head to the side looking at your counter. “me and my friends talked about last night and what we have planned for this morning while i made us breakfast.” “your friends?” matt questioned since he was the only one in your house. “yeah my friends in the vlog” you said with a ‘duh’ tone, earning yourself a poke in the side from matt.

you picked up your camera again about an hour later while you were in the car. focusing the lens on matt, you began to ask him questions. “how do you feel now that i might actually have a couch after a month?” you asked with a laugh. matt’s smile brightened as he took his eyes off the road for a second to look between you and your camera. “i’m happy that we’ll finally have some place to sit other then your kitchen table. i’m excited to go shopping if you’re excited.” he reached over to pat your knee.

“matt’s not the biggest fan of shopping if you couldn’t tell. or if you’ve seen his house you’d know how unfurnished it is.” you said setting the camera on the dash to look at both of you. “listen, i just don’t see the point in worrying about how my house looks when i can be doing fun stuff with my life.” matt said with a chuckle. he grabbed your hand so you knew he was fully just joking to mess with you. “i think furniture shopping is fun. we’ll see you guys again hopefully when i have a couch.”

you were back in the car when you found yourself filming again. you head rested on matt’s ands your intertwined arms as you sat in the parking lot. “bad news guys. we couldn’t find a couch.” you removed yourself from matt as he started backing out of the parking spot. his hand now rested on the back of your neck as he played with your hair. “so sad. i still have to sit on the floor.” matt remarked. you gave him a discouraged laugh catching his attention. he looked over at you while at the red light. “don’t worry sweetheart we’ll figure it out.” he leaned over quickly to kiss you cheek. “thanks matt. we’ll see you guys later.” you said giving your vlog a small smile.

a few hours had past as you and matt spent some quality time together at your apartment. it wasn’t often that you guys got alone time so you cherished it when you did. no meetings, no sibling, and no cameras. but that came to an end when you realized you had a vlog to finish.

matt was the one to pick up your camera this time. you were in your bathroom getting ready for the prada event you were going to tonight. matt thought this would be the perfect time to try and scare you. he quietly walked through your house, making his way to you. unfortunately for him you caught him in this act. his reflection showed up in the corner of your mirror. “what are you doing?” “no i’ve been caught. i was trying to scare you.” he said with a laugh. “next time, baby” he set your camera on your bathroom counter and came around to hug you from behind. “you look really pretty, sweetheart. do you want to tell them where we’re going?” he asked as he gently layed his chin in your shoulder. he didn’t want to mess up what you were doing.

matt’s comment had made you blush, but you’ll quickly pulled yourself back together. “thanks baby. um- matt did a photoshoot with prada recently, and he looked incredible. so they invited us to an event they’re throwing tonight.” “if we make it there.” matt threw out winking at the camera. you looked at him in the mirror quickly as you threw your arm back to jokingly hit him in the shoulder. “matthew!” you exclaimed. “what? im just saying their might be traffic.” he shrugged acting nonchalantly as you rolled your eyes.

“anyway guys i think we’re going to call it a night. i’ll let you know tomorrow how the event went. i love you and i’ll see you soon.” you smiled picking up the camera as matt starts to walk out of the bathroom. “wait, matt! do you have any last words for our friends?” he turned to you with a slight smirk. he quickly screamed in the camera before running off. “i’m so sorry head phone users.” and you ended the video

an: i’m sorry this is so short but i wanted to make this different from chris’s so i hope you enjoy. i also slightly based this off of the vibe of jules leblancs blogs because i love them 🤍

#nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt x reader #matt sturniolo

[urhoneycombwitch]

plan b

___

foreword: thank you to this anon, this was just the right amount of sitcom Spider-man pointing meme-ery that I needed. wrote this with husky!neighbor!Eddie since I thiiiink I’ve established that version of him is modern so hopefully this aligns with my made-up canon. lol.

wc: 1.9k

cw: weight mention (in the context of finding meds, no numbers used), embarrassment on R’s end of kink discussion, frenemies vibes between R and Eddie (they get under each other’s skin but in a hot way <3), Eddie is soft-domming in public, no actual smut but still +18 mdni

DISCLAIMER: Plan B can really fuck your shit up and shouldn’t necessarily be used when introducing new kinks. Please do your research and consult w/ a medical professional before using. Putting the fiction in fic with this one.

_____

Christ, there are too many options.

Your vision is swimming in the Family Planning aisle, fluorescent overheads of the CVS taking up residence in your left temple.

You press your fingertips against the spot, massaging gently as you pull different brands of boxes from the shelf to inspect the instructions.

This one says take within twenty-four hours, that might be- oh, shit, there’s a weight cap. Dammit. And this one’s… twice the price? For fucking why?

Frustrated, you shove the expensive thing back in place. The words on the blue label next in line catches your eye- Pre-Seed Fertility Lubricant- and you snap your hand away, as if scorched. Nope. Opposite of what you need. Christ. Pre-Seed?!

It’s almost giggle-worthy. You take out your phone, glancing up and down the aisle; the store is empty this late at night, just an older woman behind the front registers who had greeted you earlier with bored corporate formality, eyes fixed on her magazine.

Picture of Pre-Seed, taken. Check that one off the list. The only person who you’d want to share a laugh over text about this with is the one person who does not need to know why you’re in the goddamn Family Planning aisle at ten PM. On a Thursday.

At least, not yet. You lock your phone, pocketing it before zeroing in on the purple and green-themed Plan B that boasts One Tablet, One Step.

Although it’s pricier than some of the other morning-after pills, it’s the only one that you feel fully confident about buying. You give the box a little toss, feeling the next-to-nothing weight of it in your palm. Fifty bucks for a tiny pill, one that you may not even end up using- but you’ll be goddamned if you’re caught unprepared.

“Can I help you find anything?”

Your blood flashes cold, then hot, as you realize who the voice belongs to- attention focused elsewhere, you didn’t hear Eddie sidling up the aisle until now.

He’s leaning into his arm on the nearest shelf, grinning wolfishly at his own joke, chocolate eyes lit up at having found you here. He looks obscene- biceps and chest bulging at the stretched fabric of his t-shirt, hair unspooling dark curls from a low bun, black ink tattoos rippling over his bare forearms and peeking out from beneath his collar.

Honestly, you don’t know why he wasn’t stopped at the door by the woman on night shift. He’s bordering public indecency with those fitted Levi’s alone.

Fortunately the shock of hearing Eddie’s low voice is not enough to send the Plan B in your hand flying- too late to reshelve it without him seeing, you cling to it tighter, plastic creaking under your grip as you pray to every god ever that he doesn’t notice.

“Oh! Hey. Hi. Haha, very funny.” Well, that was smooth, but at least you said something comprehensible. “What’re you doing here?”

Eddie doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss, using his free arm to reach for a pack of condoms near your head- “Late night shopping. Stocking up for the weekend. Can’t seem to keep these around, seeing as I’m being fucked out of house and home.”

”Well… apartment,” you correct, heart leaping at the smile lines that jump around Eddie’s eyes. This is good, maybe you can just keep him talking and find a second to shove the Plan B into a random spot or perhaps launch it into the sun-

Nope, too late. Mid-crinkle, Eddie’s eyes drop to the package in your hand, and you watch his face drop as he processes multiple trains of thought at once.

“Oh, shit. Is that… did we…?”

There’s a pinch between his dark brows, likely running through the last few weeks of your hookups (which have all been protected) and trying to do the mental math; you shake your head, trying to stammer through the flush of embarrassment that’s overtaking your system.

“No, it’s not- not from us. Not from you. I mean…” you trail off, shifting uncomfortably from one sneaker to the other as words hit a jam in your throat.

Eddie’s in a full frown now, pushing off the shelf, standing to his full height, confusion and hurt seeping into his expression, voice quiet and pitched deep- “Is it from someone else?”

“Oh my god.” This was a nightmare, right? You’d like to wake up now. “No, no, not from anyone else. It’s-”

A sharp exhale, a shake of your head, and the words loosen all at once- “I was gonna get it for us, for me, for this weekend, if you wanted to give me a reason to use it.”

Eddie goes as still as you’ve ever seen him before, fingers stopped in their usual constant tapping, blinking at the box in your hands.

His face smooths.

Then he smiles.

Your stomach flips.

Eddie slides the condoms back into the wrong spot, not bothering to look as he leans in close enough for you to smell the spice of his cologne as he says in a sex-dipped timbre: “Well if you wanted me to fill you up with my cum, why didn’t you just say so?”

A horrified, awkward squawk escapes before you can bite it back; your head whips down the aisle to make sure no one else was within earshot of his dirty mouth as you blindly shove the Plan B away, deep into a shelf. “Oh my god. Jesus christ.”

”Eddie is just fine,” he responds mildly, the cool demeanor to your rapidly heating one as his grin simmers wicked between dimpled cheeks.

“Forget it,” you start, shaking your head and making to brush past, embarrassment flooding in hot, “Just forget-”

Eddie catches you by the elbow, effectively locking you in place with a single move, but he’s not looking at you; with his free hand, he snaps up the slightly crumpled box and scans the words.

“Y’think one will be enough?”

The flood subsides, gives you pause enough to stutter out, “W-what?”

Eddie’s fingers flex on your arm. He turns the box over in his big hand, rings glinting. “We’d better get two. Just in case.”

Your skin feels the impression of his palm even after he lets go, like a Polaroid in rapid reverse as he grabs a second box, warmth fading fast from your skin. “I don’t think- I mean, that’s not how they work, I should probably find a more permanent sol-”

“Just for the weekend.” His eyes are back on you now, self-satisfied smirk giving way to something darker, more intense. “Yeah?”

A shiver casts goosebumps down the length of your body. He’s goddamn toying with you, in the middle of a fucking CVS. Despite your flare of irritation, you nod, voice nearly a croak as you echo, “Yeah.”

The grin lights up his face again. “Good girl.”

Eddie doesn’t give you time to react to this (verbally, anyways- your cunt is most certainly responding to the praise despite your best efforts to remain unaffected), using one large hand to hold both boxes and another to press at the small of your back, leading you down the aisle.

Truthfully, you’re grateful for the help (regardless of his dominance-based tendencies that don’t usually get you this easy); based on the ringing in your ears, you’re doubtful of your own ability to navigate the maze of aisles.

Eddie walks you both to the front register, and you watch as if outside of your own body while the cashier scans the barcodes and Eddie swipes his card.

He pockets the receipt, slides a finger through the handles of the plastic bag, and holds it out between your bodies. Right in front of the goddamn cashier.

”For you.”

This brings you back to yourself, a bit, mortification giving way to annoyance (a much more useful emotion in this scenario), and you snatch it to your chest. It’s your turn to grab Eddie’s elbow, half-dragging him towards the exit.

“Come again soon,” the cashier calls, still in monotone.

So close. You’re less than a yard away from the sliding glass doors that would have swallowed Eddie’s reply- but as it stands, he gets in one last cheerful wave, an award-winning, dimple-charmed smile to match his bright response.

“She will!”

Damn him. You give a final tug and you’re both out in the parking lot, glass doors closing automatically with a whoosh behind you, cool night air kissing at your cheeks.

”Seriously?” You’re mature enough to recognize that your anger is misplaced, adrenaline-fueled, but that doesn’t stop you from whirling on Eddie, giving his shoulder a sharp shove that (unfortunately, tantalizingly) doesn’t move him an inch. “I can never return to this fucking store. Thanks for that.”

Eddie really doesn’t help his case, grin turned shit-eating as he rustles through his various pockets for his pack of cigarettes- “Careful, sweetheart- you know how hot and bothered I get when you’re mad.”

”Unbelievable.” You turn on a swift heel, slipping the bag loops up your arm to dig for your keys. “You just got me blacklisted from our local drugstore and you don’t even care.”

There’s the snick of a lighter behind you, while your car a few spaces down chirrups and blinks in response to the furious press of your fob’s unlock button.

Eddie chuckles, sardonic and unsympathetic. “Too bad this is the only CVS in the whole world. I think you’ll live, princess.”

Ignoring this, you stomp towards your car, petulant, bag rustling; the door is half-open when Eddie calls, “So, are you coming over tonight, or what?”

“Obviously!”

The door slams with more force than you intend, sound ricocheting across the lot.

From the respite of your tinted windows, you watch as a streetlamp-haloed Eddie takes a drag from a cigarette, smoke drifting thick around a hazy visage of the hottest man alive. (Maybe you’re a touch biased. But your opinion is based on personal accounts, so fuck the naysayers.)

He tips his head back to look at the stars, pale column of throat illuminated- with a flush of realization, you scoff. He’s putting on a show for you.

Two can play, you think, driving your seatbelt into place with a click. But first I’m gonna have to make a stop at home. Namely for new undies.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #husky!neighbor!Eddie #husky!neighbor!eddie x reader #eddie x reader

[bunnysbrainrot]

Bourbon and Mead

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟸 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 '𝚃𝚘𝚘 ��𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝' 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚢𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙷𝚘𝚣𝚒𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐.

Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader, Jackson!AU

Content: Alcohol consumption, flirting, slow-burn tension, slow dancing with Joel, teasing, POV switch. Bear with me, folks, this'll be worth it.

Summary: It's been a busy first week in Jackson, but you're finally starting to feel at home. Even still, you haven't made many new connections, but hopefully tonight's big event can help. Despite your nerves, you go anyway, and see some familiar faces.

Word Count: 4,300+

It had been just under a week since your patrol with Joel and his group, and you're settling in rather well. For such a shabby spot, you have decorated your living space impressively, and it settles something in you. After so long, you're really starting to have a place to call home.

Knock, knock, knock.

The noise shakes you out of a stupor, and you make your way to the heavy wooden door, and tug it open to reveal a friendly face, Maria.

You've had little chance to interact with new people since arriving in Jackson - when you're working as a community this directly, a hell of a lot of work goes into it. Which means, everyone's busy. Just about constantly. That being said, outside of your own room, Maria has been your only companion.

She can sense your loneliness, too, but she hasn't let on. The last thing you needed was the pressure of making a name of yourself in the first few days, so she had kept you busy with chores, patrols, hunts, you name it. To her, that plan would help you adjust to how Jackson functioned as a whole, so you could have the foundation of being a community member, to get your bearings.

Her smile is bright as she speaks, "Hey, sweetheart, just wanted to let y'know about the dance happening tonight. If you're feeling up for it, you should stop by."

The offer erupts a warmth in your chest.

"The dance?" You ask eagerly.

Maria nods, "Used to call it a square dance, but not enough folks know how to, so it's more of a get-together now, but we'll have music, drinks, the whole nine."

It doesn't take long for you to choose your answer. You cheerfully tell Maria, "That sounds wonderful. Where is it, and when does it start?"

She starts to describe the layout of the nearby buildings to the dance, waving her hands in front of her methodically, "But trust me, you won't be able to miss it. Just follow the music." Maria ends her sentence with a wink.

"What do I wear?"

There's a beat as she looks you over, and past your shoulder to your chest of drawers, which she helped stock when you first arrived.

Maria waves a hand dismissively as she replies, "Some people take the chance to dress up, some people dress down. You do whatever you're comfortable with, honey."

You flash her a grateful smile, and she issues a small goodbye before walking off.

---

A good few hours buffers you before the dance. The optional dance, but something in you will stop at nothing to go. You need to see people, have some laughs, live a little.

You take your sweet time getting ready, too. Some downtime is well deserved and rare, but it gives you the perfect window of time - debating on your outfit takes the longest. You opt for a casual hairdo, one that won't get your neck all hot and sweaty once you start dancing. The watch on your left wrist reads 6:47 PM up at you.

Whooping voices can be heard outside your window as people saunter down the street, toward the festivities, you assume. You sneak a peek through the curtains, eyeing a gaggle of townsfolk laughing alongside one another. Their eyes are bright, voices uplifted and loud. The men clap each other on the shoulder aggressively, while the women jab each other in the sides with their elbows. There wasn't much to make out, but whatever they were joking about had them roaring with laughter.

Seeing the crowd inspires you to make way out the door. You ensure all your lights are off, save for your nightstand lamp to come back to an inviting space. A deep breath later, and you were out the door, too.

There's a new feeling in the air, and you can place it precisely. Upbeat music plays far down the small Jackson streets, but its effects are widespread. All around, the other residents beam brightly as they go about the evening. Most people nearest you exchange small 'hello's' and wave politely, others still smile your way. Tightness wells in your chest as you realize just how long it had been since you'd seen so many friendly faces.

The music's volume eventually blares as you near the open area for the dance. The weather proves to be fair enough to host the event outside, so rows of string lights hang between nearby poles and sides of buildings. In the back of the venue is a group of people wielding a variety of instruments, nodding and bouncing with the quick beat of what you knew as bluegrass music.

"Hey, look who's here!" A voice calls out. You glance around until you realize the call was for your attention. You turn to the voice and recognize the woman from last week's patrol, who'd given you the rundown of who your partners were.

You greet her in return before registering the rest of the group. A few of them could be familiar around town, but for the most part, new faces.

Except for one.

Joel's eyes aren't on yours when you find him in the group. He's looking to one of the men, seemingly in a deep conversation. Perhaps he could feel your eyes on him, because his eyes flicker to yours for a split second. He pauses, lets his conversation partner speak, while he gives you a polite nod, before turning back to the man.

The fluttering in your gut was a dead giveaway, this is why you wanted to come. The prospect of seeing Joel again was exciting, but usually slim. And here he was. If only he could just move on from his conversation...

A hand lands on your arm comfortingly. The kind woman tells you, "It's so good to see you again! How have you been settling in?"

There's a twinge of an accent in her words, Southern, but more subtle. Her words are as soft as a hug.

"It's been going alright, finally getting to decorating," you start. The woman listens. Wait... did she ever introduce herself? Shit. How were you supposed to see someone this much without knowing their name?

"That was the best part when I got here. Once I had my space set up, it really felt like home," she replies.

There's a beat of silence between you, and it breaks when you ask, "I'm sorry if this is awkward, but I never got your name the first time we met." You briefly introduce yourself before she replies.

Her eyes crinkle when she smiles, "I'm Cara. I never introduced myself, but I wanted you to have at least be one friendly face here."

"I'm thankful for it, I really am. It feels better now that we have names to the faces," you offer with a nervous smile.

Cara looks at you mischievously, softly grabbing your bicep, "Let's get a drink. Whaddya say?"

That kind offer melts your anxiety away, and all that's left is you, Cara, and the joy of sharing a drink with a friend. In moments, you have a glass of homemade mead in your hand.

Someone else from the group calls Cara over, so for a moment you're left alone with your cup of fermented honey goodness. It's sweet, slightly bitter, but leaves your stomach feeling warm as it settles. The burn in your throat is numbed by the warmth in your belly. You make it back to Cara's group and decided to strike up conversation with those folks, thinking that it'd be a good place to start.

The first few conversations are long - a flurry of questions about your background, your journey out to Jackson, and how you've been adjusting to the move. You learn some basics about some of them, but there's a distraction lingering in the back of your mind.

Joel.

A few people in the group break away to leave for the dance floor, the jovial music beckoning them ever closer. You don't follow immediately, which leaves you with a few stragglers, and him.

For the first time in days, you hear his voice again, "What'd you get?"

The question snaps you to attention, looking down into your glass. You glance back up at him and motion with the cup with a swish, "Some mead, I think. Pretty good."

He nods, "Pete makes some damn good mead, 'specially if it's for a party. Pulls out the good stuff."

Part of you wonders if his lighthearted talking is to make up for the blunder on last week's patrol, to ease the embarrassment you still held from it.

"What's in your cup?" You retort.

"Usually it's bourbon, but tonight, it's beer," he replies with a gaze into his own cup. He copies your motion and swirls the cup a few times. A bit of the foamy liquid sloshes out and onto the dirt in front of your, nicer, combat boots. Some of the beer spatters onto your feet and into the dirt.

"Damn, maybe they should cut me off," Joel jokes, reaching into his back pocket and revealing a handkerchief, holding it out to you. "Sorry 'bout that."

You take the cloth, "Making a mess of the place already, and it's not even eight o'clock yet, impressive."

The joke seems to land with Joel; you can tell by the way the corners of his eyes tighten.

Joel

What you say makes him chuckle. It's rare to find someone with a sense of humor these days. That kind of fresh attitude can bring a lot of life in a world like this, especially around here, especially after the loss these people have felt.

New folks were few and far between, given how desolate Jackson had become since the world fell to shit, but there was a wind of change when you arrived last week. Joel could tell from the second he saw you on patrol, even trotting ahead of the group at one point. The light in your eyes when you awed at the mountains tugged at his heartstrings. A type of longing for that kind of simple joy. To be young, without most of his hardships, seeing new parts of the world, even though it had shrunk.

On the patrol, you had gotten too far ahead, in line with Joel in the lead, and you knew it wasn't your place, but you hadn't shied away from him. In fact, you had embraced it, and listened keenly when Joel advised you keep your distance. Normally it'd feel like taming an unruly child, but you had a certain curiosity in your eyes, you were eager to learn.

Joel knows how harsh he can be, let alone to new faces. The worry of how that attitude rubs off on people subsided decades ago - one could say that Joel has truly embraced that 'grouchy old man' stereotype. That attitude has saved his ass more times than he could count, and has kept him safe after all these years. But, there's an unavoidable weight when it comes to hardening yourself up as much as Joel has. It's a truth that he's been evading for years. You make yourself untouchable, but you forget how much you need someone else.

Even so, it's easier that way. You keep losses to a minimum as long as you're not attached. Living that way had gotten him this far.

But now you stand in front of him, with beer-splattered boots and a kind smile despite your new shoes being soiled. You take his handkerchief and bend down to clean your shoes, and hand the cloth back to Joel. His fingers brush against yours when he takes it back - yours are delicately soft against his calloused ones, and it takes him by surprise.

In that split second, Joel's eyes search your face for any change, to see if you freeze like he does, to see if your breath hitches like his did, for any sign that this isn't just some fluke.

It could be a trick of the light, but Joel swears there's a new redness in your cheeks. When you look at him next, it's with bright, innocent eyes, a type of innocence Joel would surely ruin.

"Thank you, Joel," you say softly. His name on your lips is the sweetest thing he's ever heard, it's almost sickening.

Joel clears his throat and gives you a nod, "It's the least I can do."

The sun is dipping behind the mountains, streaking the sky with glorious pink hues against the emerging stars of dusk. A fiddle lilts happily as the song picks up pace, the tune itself serving as an invitation to get yourself moving. In the distance, Cara flashes you a wide smile, and waves a beckoning hand over to her gaggle of folks. You can barely make out her words as she mouths them.

"Let's dance!"

Joel notices your distraction, looking back at Cara trying to whisk you onto the dance floor. There's a good number of people breaking into a flurry of moves, all whooping and laughing as they pass one another. Joel looks back to you, the softness that was there before is seeming to dissipate. His face is hardened again, resigned.

"Guess I'm being stolen away," you say.

"Be careful," Joel replies, "Carried Away Cara doesn't let up. You'll be dancing for hours."

You comment, "Didn't know I signed up for that kind of night."

You've reached the group by now, and Cara is already handing you another glass of mead, and a huge smile to go along with it.

----

You're onto drink number four, you think, and the sky has shifted from a pale pink to a deep indigo, littered with bright stars and a beautiful crescent moon. It seems like the music has blurred together without beginning or end, and your boozy haze doesn't reveal any tiredness, so you keep dancing. Joel was right, Cara's had you dancing for what feels like hours at this point. But damn, did she know how to party.

The song the group's playing begins to slow down, and part of the crowd disperses away. Chattering can be overheard amidst the quieting music. You place a mostly-empty glass onto a nearby picnic table and look around the venue. Folks pass you by with a pep in their step, their faces flushed red from alcohol and relentless dancing.

A breath of fresh air wafts through the venue, rustling through your hair that had tacked with sweat to the nape of your neck. You smile from the sensation, relishing in the cool air across your hot skin. Shit, what time is it?

Your watch beams 10:13 PM back up at you.

Damn, where did all that time go?

The night has given you a rush of adrenaline you haven't found in what feels like months. Something about this dance is erupting a sense of joy you were sure you'd never feel again. Laughter, dancing, good people. Such simple things really do lift the spirits.

You can feel a pointed stare at you off to the side, but do you dare look? Of course you do - it's not like the mead is letting you act composed. Being as subtle as you can muster in your state, you glance to the side, where that looming sense had come from. Far off, leaning against a tall wooden fence, is Joel.

While he had practically ignored you when you'd first seen him tonight, he can't take his eyes off of you in this moment. Your heart skips a beat when he holds the stare, his deep brown eyes never leave yours, even as other partygoers pass between you. It's as if the world had paused, but perhaps just for you, frozen under Joel's gaze, the sole subject of his attention.

He stands alone on the side. No one to interrupt you if you go over...

Before you decide, you wave and smile. A silly drunken grin you'd normally hide. Right now, with his focus only on you, is the most alive you've felt in months. The high of it creeps up from behind, whispering encouragement in the form of a dare. Go up to him.

Your legs make the journey before you register what's happening; your body suddenly has a mind of its own, no way to back down now.

The narrowing distance from Joel pushes your heart to your throat. While your legs carry you smoothly, your senses are turned upside down. The anxiety you have about Joel is nothing but a distant memory. Tonight, you'd overcome your nervousness.

"Not much of a dancer, hm?" You call to him over the music.

A small smile spreads across his lips, "With these knees, I'm lucky to do a damn foxtrot. Someone out there was having the time of their life, though."

He truly has a gift. The moment he speaks, everything else seems to disappear. God, you'd ask him question after question just to hear that voice - deep and gravelly, but the accent is thick and sweet like molasses. A slip of your imagination has you wandering into uncharted territory. Imagine a "baby" or "honey" or "sweetheart" in that voice... Your mind vacates long enough for Joel to arch an eyebrow at you, and you're immediately brought back down to earth.

"I don't know how I went dancing for that long," you exhale.

Joel shakes his head with a chuckle, "You'll get some damn good sleep, that's for sure."

It'd be better if you were sleeping with me.

The unfiltered thought jolts through you, snapping you back to attention. Maybe the mead was making you a little too confident.

Behind you both, the music group's slow beat has pulled folks into a smooth rhythm. The dance floor littered with small groups and couples as the song continued. This new intimate energy could not have been timed any worse. You took a big breath and let it out slowly.

"It's getting late, I should probably head home."

Joel pauses, looking toward the band, then down into a cup of amber-brown liquid. Maybe he resorted back to his usual bourbon.

You follow suit and watch the band play on. A tug in your chest begs you not to go, not yet.

"Think you got time for one last go?" His question snaps your head to him. There's a new spark in his eyes, a softer glint amidst the chocolate brown.

Your answer is immediate, breathless, "Of course."

Anything. Anything for him.

As long as it reveals a glimpse of the man underneath the tough shell. It's still in him.

Joel extends his hand, palm up, to take yours. You lay yours on top plainly, holding a breath at the sensation of your skin against his. It's not like before with the handkerchief. This time, it's intentional, he wants to touch you.

The way his fingers curl to hold your hand settled that debate. His touch is careful. It didn't take a genius to know how rough he could be, with those toned muscles shifting under his plaid shirt; in contrast, he held you with such delicacy, as if you'd break if he gripped too hard.

"You know how to dance at all?" Joel asks.

You bark a laugh, "With this many drinks in me? Highly doubt it."

Joel's laugh is louder this time around. You can actually make it out, and you can feel that it's genuine. "I warned you about Cara. Now I get a drunk dance partner."

"Hey, you asked me to dance. You don't get to give me shit for havin' a good time," your words slur together, proving Joel's point.

Amidst the crowd, Joel manages to find you two a nice spot with plenty of room. The surrounding couples look how you feel - entranced with their partners, focused and attentive, like the other person is the only one left in the world.

"How 'bout this? You lead me."

You freeze, "But, I-I don't know what to d-"

"Do what you want. I'll follow."

"And if I make a fool of myself?" You question.

His other hand migrates to your waist, holding you gently at your side, "The you better really sell it."

Your laugh is giddy. He lets you have room for mistakes. There's room to be human around him.

A deep exhale later, you place your hands on Joel's shoulders and begin to sway, a slow and steady pace with the beat of the song. Seems the mead has done its work of clouding your judgement - you're locked in the swaying motion.

"Is this okay?" You ask softly, finding Joel's eyes. There's a warmth in them you hadn't seen before.

He nods gently, "You lead the way, sweetheart. Don't worry about me."

Who'd have known that a single word could melt you completely. Your mind instantly hooks on it, cycles it in your mind as if to brand it into your memory.

Sweetheart.

Your smile is instant, but feels like one of those sloppy, stupid drunk grins that reveal how not-yourself you are at the words.

And so, you sway. As promised, Joel follows right along.

He shifts closer, readjusting the hold on your waist, spanning his fingers along the small of your back. A polite caress, not meandering and wandering around like most drunk men you'd encountered. Joel can keep his hands to himself. Joel has manners. Joel has self-control.

There's a lead to follow with his movements, you discover. It does feel more natural to wrap your arms around his neck like this...

In a swift moment you've melted into him, and with it, your nerves.

You also find that it's far more comfortable to rest your head on his chest. A beat later, your senses return, and you raise yourself back into standing position, realizing the crossed boundary.

"Gettin' tired already?" Joel asks bemusedly.

Maybe he didn't catch it. Thank goodness.

"You're basically rocking me to sleep here," you quip back.

Joel reminds you, "You're the one leading us."

You roll your eyes as you shake your head, bringing a laugh from him again. The sound of it lights you up from inside, flipping your stomach. You'd already learned that that sound was rare.

"Some dance partner I am," you say sarcastically. Joel's smile broadens, and the hand on your back shifts. His thumb idly sweeps across your spine.

Somehow, your arms are back around his neck, and your head is against his chest, all without protest. Joel's thumb still caresses your back as a sign. The song in the background changes to something simpler, with fewer instruments, giving highlight to a slow solo from the fiddle player.

"You're right, I think I'm gonna sleep like a log tonight," you murmur.

Joel's chuckle vibrates against your cheek. The huff of his laugh gives you a whiff of bourbon, sickly sweet and smoky, blending in with his deeper woodsy scent.

"You gotta be more careful next time," his voice slows. "We'll get some water in ya, help fight that hangover tomorrow."

You nod against him, smiling broadly, knowing that you're in good hands. Your words come out sheepishly, "I'm sorry I got so drunk. I... didn't think you'd see me like this."

A gentle squeeze on your side.

Joel's breath skirts across your neck when he mutters, "You think I'm gonna blame you for havin' a good time?"

His lips graze the shell of your ear as he speaks, and his words have a secrecy to them, an intimacy you hadn't seen from him before. You pay attention to the feel of his lips on your skin - they're soft and gentle, but know where to drag along in all the right places.

It's enough to leave your knees wobbling in your drunken stupor, high purely off of his touch, head spinning as you search for a new sensation.

"It has been pretty fun," you reply between trembling breaths.

There's a subtle brush of lips against your neck when he speaks, "I'd say I'm havin' a pretty good time."

Your knees practically buckle beneath you.

The rush of it all has you pulled back from him now, staring at him with surprised eyes. It's not that you didn't enjoy or accept that move, just that quickly, in front of so many people...

Joel's look shifts to something of embarrassment, "Maybe I've had a lil' too much."

You let out a nervous laugh, "I think I'm right there with you, I... I'm sorry."

He doesn't ask what the apology is for. He knows exactly which line was crossed. The hardened look returning to his eyes tells you that this moment of bliss is coming to an end.

"You don't got anything to be sorry for," the thick Texas accent is palpable in his reassurance. "I'm bein' a fool."

A fool. For doing this.

Hopefully he can't see the way that word breaks you. You force a bigger smile, a dismissive one that says 'we can just forget this ever happened', with a wave of a hand.

You offer, "Like you said, just having a good time."

His smile is wry. There's something unreadable in his expression.

Nonetheless, his grip of your waist loosens, releasing you as the fiddle in the background song comes to a silent end. Something akin to tension hangs in the air between you, pulled taught like a string to be severed.

"Well, I won't keep ya any longer. I... appreciate the dance. I know you're probably itchin' to get back in bed, so..." Joel says, trailing off, pressing his lips into a thin line.

You nod, collecting yourself, "Y-Yeah, probably good to get some sleep soon. You, too."

Joel smiles again, but his heart isn't in it like before.

He gives you a quick pat on the shoulder, eyes averted, "Get home safe, alright?"

Before you can wish him the same, he's lost amidst the crowd.

Hello, my sweethearts! So glad to be developing this story more, and I hope you've been enjoying so far! If you'd like, vote in the poll below for how'd you like to see this story develop (if you catch my drift)

As always, thank you so much for your support. And if you're new, it's nice to meet you! Love you all!

-Bunny

{all banners/dividers are from cafekistune on Tumblr}

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us 2 #bunny writes #smut #smut writing #fanfiction #tlou2 #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal

[janeyseymour]

La Cosa Nostra- pt 11

cowritten with @schemmentis

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10.

Summary: Melissa's pissed with recent news, the Feds are back at it, and you go to a place and person to find some comfort.

WC: ~2.05k

At this news, Melissa quickly slips into the seat on the other side of Dom's table. “Are ya crazy? I told you they've already torn this place to shreds, and you want to bring the money in through here?” She hisses as she leans more into the middle of the table. “Listen, losin’ the salon is already bad enough. You know what it did to Y/N when you took her off it.”

“That didn't come from me, Mel. I just had to deliver the message. You know that.”

“I don't care who it came from. You knew, and you did it just the same. Now you have the coglioni to sit here and say we should run it through here. I already ain't gonna forget the slightin’ of my wife, youse know that- the lot of you. You wanna tell me I gotta run this shit through my restaurant? Then tell me. Don't act like this is some proposition, Dominic. Tell me what to do, and I'll handle it. ‘Cause you and I both know how this shit works, but I am tellin’ you,” Melissa points an index finger at the man across from her sternly. “Right here, right now, I am tellin’ you; this fucks up my restaurant and youse all are gonna have a much bigger problem than the fuckin’ Feds, capisce?”

Dominic's face remains neutral, though there is an amused glint to his eyes as his palm shifts along the head of his cane. He nods quickly and respectfully to Melissa. “We want things to go well even more than you do, kid.” He says softly.

Melissa leans back in chair, arms crossing over her chest. She raises an eyebrow, silently urging him to say what he needs to say. 

“We'll work out the details on our end. You only have to make sure you're here when the money comes through. Simple as that.” Dom says. He sighs when Melissa still merely stares at him expectantly. “Sí, sí. We're telling you this is how it's gonna work from now on. Clear out a spot in the office in the back. Nobody else needs to know it's anythin’ different than a regular shipment comin’ once in a while. None of it happens if you ain't here. This is big, Lissa. They're trustin’ you.”

“Like they trusted my wife?” Melissa spits out as she pushes herself out of the chair. “Texts only. They call and wake up my girls while they’re sleepin’, I'll take one of my bats to their kneecaps.” She adds on her way past Dom in his seat to storm back toward the kitchen.

You raise a brow as you watch your wife storm into the back and Dominic starts to slowly make his way out. You grab one of the other servers milling about, silently asking them to keep an eye on your girls while you go check on the redhead.

When you get into the back, she’s slamming her fist into the linoleum counter where they prep the food. Her hand is already bruising, and you take her fist gently into your own.

“My love,” you whisper as you hold her hand in yours.

“Let me go,” she hisses.

You shake your head, refuting her request. “You’re hurting yourself. You know I can’t let you do that.”

“I don’t give a shit,” she grumbles as she starts to curl her other hand into a fist. You grab the other one before she can even think about causing damage to that hand.

“Melissa.”

“They’re usin’ the restaurant as their new front,” your wife tells you quietly. “Said that it’s what we have to do, and they trust me… that we’re in the clear because the feds saw how busy we are and that we bring the girls around here, so it has to be safe.”

“I’m not letting you do this,” you tell her. “And I’m not letting them put the girls in danger.”

“We don’t got an option, Y/N. I told Dom I would handle it,” Melissa sighs as she leans against you. “And I will. You just… take care of the girls. No matter what happens.”

“Melissa, don’t talk like that- like you’re gonna die.”

“I’m just being realistic. You did the same when they were using the salon,” your wife says softly. “We both knew that if something happened, I’d have to keep the girls safe. But now, it’s on me, and I know that you’d do the same if something were to happen. We don’t have a choice.”

“Fuck,” you whisper again. “Shit.”

“Get… get the girls out of here, and tell them that I’ll be home late tonight,” your wife runs a hand over her face. “I have to make it work here.”

“No,” you say softly. “I’ll… I’ll get someone to come pick them up so I can help you.”

“Y/N,” Melissa grits out. “Go. I can handle this.”

You give her a look, one that tells her she doesn’t have to do this- that you’ll handle it. You don’t want to have her be the one in danger.

But she just shakes her head and insists you get the girls out of here- just in case Dom did give the two of you up, and he’s setting you up for failure. The girls cannot watch their mother(s) go down.

You cradle her face in your hands, kissing her a few times. “No more punchin’ things, hey? Can't have you bustin’ up those pretty fingers more than you already do.” You whisper. “I'll take care of the girls. You do what you gotta do.” When she nods, just a little, you kiss her one more time before finally turning away.

You gather your girls with a thank you to the server watching them for you. 

“Mam! We have to wait for Mommy!” Cat is insisting as you walk with both your girls out the front door.

“Auntie Val needs Mommy's help tonight, sweetheart. So, we're gonna go home and make sure everything is cleaned up and nice for her, okay?” You speak to your girls though you're glancing around the parking lot on the way to your car.

You take note of Dom's car pulling out but don't see any cars with sirens or lights careening into the lot afterward. You carefully buckle your girls into the backseat. When you're shutting the back door after making sure they're both safe, you look around again on the walk around to the drivers side. There's nothing different or out of the ordinary. No sign of agents or officers. Which means Dom has only done exactly as he said he did.

You slip into the driver's seat, throwing your seatbelt on. You swallow as you carefully pull out of the spot and towards home. Dom telling the truth is maybe worse than if he had flipped. They're really putting this on Melissa and Twelve Tables. Part of you despises it. The amount of risk it puts on your wife. You know it intimately. The other part, the part that grew up in all this and doesn't know anything else, that part is proud as hell. It isn't anything to turn your nose up at to be entrusted with the process of mafia money. It speaks volumes. Volumes that equally excite and terrify you.

Danik and Shaw are back at the precinct, contemplating everything that Dominic told them- that you and your wife had nothing to do with the murder of Bobby. He told them that even if you did have something against the man, you could never do anything- you rescue wasps because you don’t have the heart to kill them despite the fact that your wife is always screaming at you to kill the damned demons. They go over the fact that you bring your twins into your restaurant, you take the girls to church with you, you always are on time to get the girls to and from school. If you were a part of the mafia and mob that dealt with things pertaining to ordering hits and murder, you wouldn’t be such dutiful mothers.

But they also know that you never brought the girls into the salon- they’ve only ever seen the two girls with you at the restaurant. And that is a bit suspicious in their eyes. So, they plan to head back to the salon the following day.

When they get there, you aren’t there- which is unusual. You’re almost always there, and they know that. Instead, Tony is out on the floor with the other stylists. But you are nowhere to be seen; your car isn’t even in the lot. And it isn’t in the lot because you’re somewhere else.

You’re sitting in the sanctuary of your church. After dropping the girls off at school and leaving your wife to her restaurant turned mafia front, you go to the one place where you can find some sort of solitude- because even now your home reminds you of everything happening in your world.

There’s no service today, so you find yourself sitting in the back pew by yourself, looking up at the ceiling. You’re speaking silently to whatever God is out there to please spare your family from all of the heartache that you can only imagine is in your inevitable future. Finally, you bow your head, and you begin to weep silently. 

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when you feel someone slide into the pew next to you and wrap an arm around your shoulder. Your eyes pop open in surprise, and when you look next to you, Barbara is sitting there.

She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t ask why you’re here and not at the salon or at the restaurant. She doesn’t mention that she knows what the two of you do outside of your legal businesses. No- she sits in complete and utter silence as she holds you gently. And you can’t do anything about it. You can’t explain why you’re here in a puddle of your own tears, not without giving away what she already knows to be true. So you don’t say anything. You just continue to cry out your fears and worries over everything while clinging to the shawl that Barbara has draped over her shoulders. And when you pull away, you let out an ugly, choked out laugh.

“You probably think I’m crazy.”

“Crazy? For coming to the one safe little corner of the earth where you can feel anything and do anything and not be judged for it?” the woman asks you. She shakes her head silently. She takes your hand in her own, and together the two of you pray. You don’t realize that she is praying for the same thing that you are, but she is. The two of you silently pray that you’ll somehow get yourself out of this mess- that your family will be able to return to some sort of normalcy- or better yet turn a new leaf and start a new life where there is no mafia or mob, no illegal businesses that put everyone in harm’s way.

And when you lift your head, hers is still bowed for a few seconds before she lifts it with a quiet, “Thank you, God.” And then, as if nothing happened, she pats your hands gently with her own and goes on her way. 

You take a few deep breaths once Barb is gone. Carefully trying to get yourself together. You wipe at your cheeks and eyes, focusing on the distant altar at the pulpit. You sit in the last pew, breathing deep and slow. Staring at the large depiction of Jesus on the cross behind the altar. Slowly, you feel the serenity you were hoping to. You don't know that praying will do anything, actually change anything, but it's at least felt like getting it off your chest. In a way that doesn't jeopardize your family or anyone else. You suddenly understand Barbara's devout faith. You can't say that will ever be you but you get it. You make the sign of the cross over your head and chest as you finally rise from the pew and slowly make your way out of the quiet church.

TAGS (and let me know if you want to be added!): @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #mel #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti

[an0ther1]

Two Is Always Better Than One pt.1

Leah x Alessia

A/N: This is a little excerpt from my AO3 series. Need your help though. Need name suggestions for a pair of puppies. Non footballer names and think one is constantly getting into trouble and the other is trying to stop them.

“At least we got our ticket into Champions League next year.” Alessia said as she cleaned out her locker. “That’s what I came here for. And we got the FA Cup. Considering where we were at the start of the season, I’m really proud of us.”

“Yeah, and we finished the season with almost everyone healthy again too, aside from Lia. Got lucky her knee wasn’t more serious. Couldn’t say that this time last year.” Leah answered as she pulled things off the shelves of her own locker to put into her bag.

“I really did want to play in Paris, but-” Alessia turned around. “Everyone is going to get a proper rest. And with all the trophies we’re going to win next year and the Euros, who knows when we will get that again.” She put the last of her things into her duffle and zipped it up before walking over to Leah and wrapping her arms around her girlfriend from behind. “Proper rest means proper holiday. Just the 2 of us, a beach, maybe a private villa.” She started kissing the back of Leah’s neck.

“Save it for the villa Russo!”

Alessia spun around. “Piss off McCabe. We all saw that mark on Caitlin’s neck that wasn’t there when we got here this mornin’. I mean really, we just came for the end of season talks”

“Poor girl bruises easy.” Katie shrugged. “So is that what yous have planned for the time off?”

“After we take care of a few things.” Leah said as she zipped up her bag. “Which we do need to get going. We have to be somewhere in an hour.”

“We do?”

“Another house to look at? How many have you seen now? 20? 30?” Katie asked as she picked up her own bag.

“It has only been 10. But no. We are not looking at a house today.” Leah threw her bag over her shoulder.

“Good. I’m still gutted we didn’t get the house on Fishpool. I think we need to take a break from looking.” Alessia said as she went back over to retrieve her bag.

“You put in on a place on Fishpool? Never said nothin’”

“It was waaaaay more house than we needed. Far too big.” Leah started to explain.

“But the garden was beautiful. And the extra bedrooms meant Ella could stay over when she came down and Keira and G all at the same time. Or my family and yours. There was enough room for everyone. And a gated drive so no one would have to park on the road. It was perfect.” Alessia huffed out.

“I know love. But it just wasn’t meant to be. The agent said there might be another one on that road going up soon and we would be able to get first look when it does.” Leah wrapped an arm around Alessia as she walked back over to her. “Come on, we really do need to get going. We’ll give you a ring for dinner soon, Macca.” She said as she started to gently push Alessia along.

“Sounds good Le.” Katie replied with a wink.

Alessia looked at Katie and then her girlfriend. But Leah’s face didn’t give any indication as to why Katie had winked at her so she ignored it. “What are we going to do for dinner tonight? We haven’t been to the shop in a bit and I don’t really want to do that and cook tonight.” She asked as they left the locker room.

Leah dropped her arm off Alessia to grab her hand instead. “I was thinking we might go out and try something new.”

“Oh, where?”

“No idea.” Leah shrugged. “See what we find.”

The pair dropped their bags into the boot of Leah’s car. “So where are we going?” Alessia asked as she slid into the passenger seat. “You never actually said.” The striker opened Spotify and hit play as Leah started the car. “And why did Katie wink at you?”

“Does anyone know why Macca does most of the things she does?” Leah shrugged. “And where we’re going is a surprise. But it won’t take us long to get there.”

Alessia eyed Leah suspiciously but didn’t push. The couple sang along with the music playing through the stereo for the next 10 minutes before Alessia recognized the area. “Lee. Babe.” Alessia turned in her seat towards Leah. “When I said I didn’t want to look at any more houses for a bit I meant it. And I REALLY don’t want to look at another Fishpool house. I need time to get over the first one.”

“We aren’t looking at another house.”

“Then why are we here? This street is literally just houses.” The passenger pointed out the window. “Lee. No, I don’t even want to drive by it. Just turn around here. Lee, are you listening?” Alessia turned abruptly in her seat. “I was really excited about that one. I could picture us having parties in the garden, our friends bringing their dogs over to play with ours. I didn’t think not getting a house would be this shitty.” She grumbled.

They passed by several houses in silence before Leah reached around the center console and grabbed Alessia’s hand. “I’m sorry Less. Even though I thought the house was far too big and more than we needed, I felt the same way. The garden is amazing. And you had a point about being able to have our friends all come and stay with us at the same time, or family.”

“Lee.”

“Mmm?”

“If you feel the same way that I do about not getting it, why are you pulling into the drive?” Alessia straightened in her seat.

Leah didn’t say anything and just cut the engine. And then she got out of the car without a word. Alessia scrambled to unbuckle and follow. “Lee. What are we doing here?” Alessia yell whispered over the top of the car as she jumped out. “LEAH! Are you listening? Are we even allowed to be here?”

Leah didn’t answer. She just calmly walked around the front of the car to Alessia and gently grabbed her hand, pulling the younger woman along.

“Leah, love.” Alessia pulled back her hand slightly but didn’t stop Leah from leading her around the side of the house. “I don’t need to see the gar-” Alessia did stop. “Why is Amanda here?”

“Well.” Leah turned back towards Alessia, pulling her girlfriend by the hand closer to her. “The estate agent is the one with the papers we need to sign.”

“Lee.” Alessia’s eyes widened as she gasped. “Papers?”

Leah stepped closer to Alessia, dropping their joined hands in favor of wrapping her arms around her waist. “Yes. The papers for our new house. Something happened with the other buyers and the deal fell through.” She smiled brightly. “It’s ours, love.” She gave the taller woman a quick kiss. “Now come on, we’re going to be late.”

Alessia pushed Leah’s shoulder. “Shut it.” She grabbed her elbow and pulled her back. “How long have you known about this?”

Leah leaned in until she could count every eyelash surrounding Alessia’s bright blue eyes. “About 2 weeks.” She snuck in another quick kiss before the other blonde pulled away.

“2 WEEKS?! Lee, we lost out on the house 17 days ago!” Alessia said with a look of total disbelief.

Leah tilted her head back and forth. “Okay, so maybe it was 16 days. But who’s counting.” She shrugged.

“LEAH CATHRINE!”

“Come on. We don’t want to keep Amanda waiting.” Leah grabbed Alessia’s hand again and started pulling her to the back of the house where Amanda was sitting on the built-in patio set, large stack of papers and pen in hand.

“Afternoon ladies.” The estate agent said brightly. “Should we get started on this?” She lifted the papers. “It might take a while.”

45 minutes later, Amanda had gone over and explained everything that was covered in the documents, most of which went over the heads of the blonde couple. They crossed every T and dotted every I on every line that had a bright highlighter tab next to it. “I don’t think if you combined all of our football contracts over the years that we have signed, they would be even half of that.” She worked out a cramp in her hand. “I haven’t done that much writing since Uni.”

“That wasn’t that long ago love.”

Alessia elbowed Leah.

“Alright ladies. I’ll get you a copy of this in the next few days, but.” Amanda restacked the pages neatly before placing them in her bag. She then dug into the pocket of her blazer. “These are yours.” She leaned forward and handed the couple a set of keys. “Congratulations.”

Before Leah could do anything, Alessia snatched the keys from the estate agent and jumped up. “Thanks Amanda!” She said over her shoulder as she took off for the nearest door into the house.

“Thank you Amanda, truly.” Leah stood up and hugged the agent.

“My pleasure. I would say reach out when you’re ready for your next one, but as a Gooner, I never want that to happen.”

“It won’t if I have anything to say about it. But I’ll ring you when we have the housewarming party.” Leah turned towards the house. “I better get in there.”

When Leah made it inside, Alessia was nowhere to be seen. She walked through the kitchen, into the open living area and down the hall. She peeked into one of the guest bedrooms, then another, until she got to the last room on the first floor. There were large floor to ceiling windows on one wall that looked out into the garden. The property was so vast that even though the neighbors were fairly close on either side of the house, not a single building could be seen from this room. The garden just continued on forever it seemed.

“Imagine all of our medals and trophies in here. Photos from the Euros on the wall, the FA Cup, World Cup, and everything else we still have to win.” The striker turned around where she was standing in front of the windows to look at Leah in the doorway. “Imagine standing in here, in this light and seeing everything we have accomplished together in this room.”

“In our home.” Leah slowly made her way over to Alessia. She had just reached her girlfriend.

“IS SOMEONE GOING TO GIVE US A TOUR OR IS IT A SELF GUIDED KIND OF THING.” Someone yelled from somewhere else in the house.

“Bloody hell.” Alessia yelped.

“Looks like the girls are here.”

“Did they alllll know about this before me?” Alessia questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Leah leaned her head against Alessia’s chest. “Maybe?” She mumbled.

Alessia chuckled as she wrapped her arms around Leah’s shoulders. “I want to be mad at you for keeping this from me.”

“LESS! LEAH! YOU TWO BETTER NOT BE SHAGGIN’ ALREADY! AT LEAST GET SOME FURNITURE FIRST!” Katie yelled down the hall.

The couple both laughed. “Mmm. That’s one way you can make it up to me for keeping this a secret for so long. But thank you Lee.” Alessia leaned back and moved her hands to either side of Leah’s face. “I can’t wait to make this a real home with you.” She gave her girlfriend a tender kiss.

“BLOODY HELL! YOU TWO BETTER HAVE CLOTHES ON!”

Leah’s shoulders shook. “Come on. We better get out there.”

#leah williamson #alessia russo #woso community #woso soccer #woso fanfics #woso

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Dancing With Fire Part 6: Coming Home✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: Sorry this has taken so long to get updated, but it’s finally here! I love this story so much, and it’s one of my favorites I have ever written. Let me know what you think 🩵

Chapter Summary: You go back home to Florida for the weekend to take a break from the chaos of the ballet company and to make a decision that might take everything you’ve worked so hard to get.

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Chapter Tags: Flirting, angst, fluff, reader goes back home to Florida for the weekend, tough decisions, protective Joel, sweet Joel, no use Y/N, Joel comforts reader

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The week went by slowly as rain drenched the crowded streets of New York. You didn’t stay a minute at your apartment all week, you only stayed with Joel at his place. Where it was safe, where it felt right, where it felt like home. 

   Home. You were going home today. Back to Florida where you belonged. You missed the white sandy beaches, missed your parents, missed your own bed. But you’d be there in a few hours. Home was right around the corner. 

   As Joel drove you to the airport, you couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful features as you watched him flex his hand around the leather steering wheel. You watched as his soft brown eyes flicked back and forth between you and the damp road up ahead, watched as he took his hand and ran it in slow circles over your thigh, watched as he slowly brought your hand up to his plush lips as he gently kissed the back of your knuckles as warmth coated your insides with nothing but love. You could stay like this forever, watching him drive while you were in the passenger seat just being in his presence. That was enough to keep you smiling. 

   You were pulled from your deep thoughts as Joel stopped the truck in front of the large airport, parking under an awning as he turned the engine off. He pulled the key from the ignition and turned to you slowly, giving you a soft smile as he grazed your thigh one more time. 

   “You ready?” he asked as he looked at you with deep brown eyes. You nodded your head up and down and gave him a gentle smile. “Let’s go then, pretty girl.”

   He threw his seatbelt off and grabbed your pink rolling suitcase from the backseat as you climbed out of the truck and slammed the door shut, hurrying through the sliding doors before you got caught in the pouring rain. 

   Joel followed you through as he rolled your suitcase in and set it down next to you. “You got your boarding pass and your ID?” he asked as he watched you get them out of the pockets of your jeans, slipping them back in as he nodded an okay. “What about your iPhone charger? You got that?”

   You laughed as you pointed to your suitcase. “It’s right in there. Wanna ask me if I got anything else?” 

   “Nah, think you’re golden,” he said as he flashed you a dazzling smile. He was always so beautiful when he smiled. It always made the crow’s feet pull at the corners of his bright eyes and made his dimples display which you loved. 

   You stayed standing there a minute, scuffing your sneakers against the polished floors as you listened to overhead announcements about outgoing flights. Joel ran his hand through his tousled curls and took a step forward, his toes meeting yours. 

   “You ready?” he asked as you looked up into his calm brown eyes. 

   “Not really,” you said as you shook your head back and forth. The truth was, flights made you nervous, and you also weren’t ready to leave him. Even if it was just for two days. 

   “How come? Flights make you nervous?” 

   “Yeah, but that’s not all. I’m also… I’m also gonna miss you,” you said quietly as you furrowed your brows together, looking at the floor as if you could see your own reflection through the shine of the tiles. 

   “Oh, sweetheart.” He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and grazed his calloused fingers down your jawline, filling you with warmth the longer he did it. “You’ll be jus’ fine, darlin’. It’s jus’ two days,” he said encouragingly as he continued to gaze at you with big brown eyes, eyes you wanted to drown in. 

   “Two days is an awfully long time without you…” you sighed, eyes glistening as you felt a tear trying to escape the back of your eye. You wouldn’t let it. 

   It was only two days. What the fuck was wrong with you? Two days. But lately you’d been spending all your time with Joel, so even days apart seemed like weeks to you now. 

   “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he huffed as he dragged his thumb along your lower lip, tracing the edge as he concentrated on your pink lips, like he was studying every inch of them to burn into his memory. “I’m gonna miss ya too, sunshine.”

   With that, he pulled you into a tight hug as he threw his arms around you and you crashed against his broad chest, arms going around his back as you breathed in his fresh soap smell and of course his coffee scent.  

   “You be sure to text me as soon as you land, okay?” he said as he pulled back and entwined his fingers around yours as you squeezed his large hands. 

   “I will, I promise,” you nodded. 

   “Good. Jus’ try to relax a little this weekend, okay? Clear your mind. Have fun with your mother and get some sun,” he said as he trailed his thumb against the back of your hand in soothing circles, making your nerves lessen the more he did it.

   “I will, Joel. Promise.”

   He nodded and cupped your chin as he lifted your face to his and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, making your heart soar out the window. When he released his lips from yours, he glanced back into your eyes, studying you as he took in your dreamy stare. 

   “I wish I could take you with me. You don’t think you can fit in my suitcase, do you?” you teased as he squeezed your hand and chuckled lightly. 

   “I don’t think so, baby. Looks like you gotta go without me.”

   “Yeah, guess so…” you said back quietly, eyes gazing down at the white tiles as sadness started to fill the pit of your stomach. Joel must’ve noticed because he looked like he was trying to reassure you. 

   “Hey, you’re gonna be jus’ fine. The flight is gonna be smooth, and you’re gonna have the best time bein’ back home. So don’t you dare give me those sad eyes, I won’t allow it,” he replied as he lifted your chin to meet his deep eyes. 

   “Oh, you won’t allow it? Is that right?” you laughed, challenging him to the question. 

   “That’s right, sweetheart.”

   “So, what are you gonna do about it then?” you smirked, eyebrow raising as a small smile pulled at his lips. 

   “Gonna have to do this.” He cupped the back of your head and sank his lips down to yours as he caressed and gently nipped at your bottom lip, getting lost in the weight of his kiss. 

   You broke apart from him when you heard the overhead intercom say that Tampa was boarding in thirty minutes, meaning your time with Joel was up. 

   You looked up sadly as he gave you a crooked smile. “Guess you better go then. Gotta go catch your flight,” he said slowly as you nodded your head back. 

   “Yeah, I guess I should.”

   He stepped up and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead as he slid his hands down your arms, his fingers curling around yours. “Well, guess I should let you go on. Don’t wanna miss your flight.”

   “No, don’t want that,” you answered back hesitantly.

   He grazed his knuckles against your jawline and took a step back as all the warmth left your body the further he stepped away from you. You felt hot tears lick the edges of your eyes, but you held them in. Be strong, be strong. 

   “Have a safe flight, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.”

   You watched him take four steps closer to the sliding doors, and you felt your heart beat unsteadily against your chest. You didn’t want him to go, but he needed to. He needed to let you get to your flight. 

   Without thinking, you called out his name before he could take another step toward the door. “Joel?” 

   He turned back toward you slowly as he knitted his eyebrows together, his honey eyes finding yours. “Yeah?” he asked, waiting for some sort of question. You had none though, you just wanted to be in his arms. 

   You dropped the suitcase handle and ran to him, immediately throwing your arms around his back as you knocked into his broad chest, feeling his strong arms slowly circle around you as he breathed you in deeply. 

   “Haven’t even made it to the door yet, and you already miss me that much?” he chuckled as he placed another kiss to the top of your head gently. 

   “Mhm,” you hummed, not willing to let him go just yet. 

   “C’mon, sunshine. You’re gonna miss your flight. You’ll be fine,” he reassured you as you unhooked your arms from him and took one hesitant step back.

   “Yeah, yeah. I’m going,” you laughed as you sighed once more, taking a good look at Joel as you memorized every golden brown fleck in his eyes and mapped out every single line on his face. 

   “Alright then, go on,” he instructed as he squeezed your hand once more and gently released, dropping his fingers from yours slowly. 

   “Bye, Joel,” you whispered as you turned, sighing at the aching feeling that was pulling hard in your gut. 

   Before you took another step, Joel reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you back again as he circled your hips and planted his lips firmly over yours. The kiss was passionate, desperate, a wildfire that was burning out of control, but you loved it. You loved him. It was smothering any doubts and anxiety that were flooding your crowded mind, always, every time his lips were slotting against yours. 

   When he finally released his lips from yours, he rested his forehead against yours, pressing his lips gently to your crown as he gave you one last kiss. “I love you, pretty girl,” he whispered, sending tingles down your spine as the words sounded like music to your ears. God, you loved him so much. 

   “I love you too, Joel. So much,” you breathed, pressing your forehead into his for just a few more seconds, letting all your worries fade away with his gentle touch. He grabbed your hand and brushed his lips across your knuckles, saying goodbye one last time before you had to leave. 

   “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll see you in two days. Remember, text me as soon as you land,” he yelled as he started heading for the door. You waved goodbye and promised to text him as soon as you got into Tampa.

   You started heading for your gate and turned back around once more, taking one more good look at him. He turned around and smiled gently, pushing his curls away from his forehead as he turned to disappear through the sliding doors. You sighed as you lost sight of him and decided you needed to go. 

   As soon as you were through the gates, handing your ticket to the attendant and taking your window seat on board, you let your mind wander back to Joel. Maybe that would help calm your racing thoughts and nervous palpitations. 

   You took out your phone and slid your thumb across the unlock bar and pulled up your photo album. You clicked on the last picture and smiled as you took in you and Joel at the beach. Joel’s smile and indented dimple flashed across the screen while his strong arms were braced around your hips as he hugged you tightly to his chest. You couldn’t help but smile as you looked at the picture, remembering the best beach date you’d ever had in your life. And it was all because of Joel, your sweet boyfriend, the man that had saved you from your own self. The man that reached his arm down through the raging hurricane when you were drowning and pulled you back to dry land. He was your savior, the one you were meant to find all along. 

   Once the plane started to take off, you relaxed into the back of the leather seat and closed your eyes. The pilot’s voice echoed around the plane, but you couldn’t hear him. All you could hear and see was Joel’s bravado voice and his sweet smile. Everything was peaceful, safe, still as you took off and faded into a deep sleep.

   

When you stepped out of the Tampa airport, the Florida humidity hit you with a welcome home hot breeze. The shiny sweat from the muggy air stuck to your forehead, and you knew you were home. You let the blazing sun shine down on you as you tipped your head back and welcomed the warmth on your New York pale skin. You could use the sunshine after being in the cold and stuck inside a theater all day. 

   The familiar silver SUV came to a complete stop in front of the Southwest Airlines sign and that small tug in your gut seemed to alert you that this was it. You were truly home. Your mom scrambled out of the car with her floral tank top and favorite Jean capris she always wore when she was lounging at home. The sight seemed to blanket you in comfort as she walked behind the car and up to the cement block where you were. 

   Her face lightened up as she smiled brightly and sighed out in relief. “Honey?” 

   “Mom!” You ran over and wrapped your arms around her back as you felt warmth consume your body. All the pent up frustration, sadness, anxiety, tiredness, and emotions flooded you all at once, and tears started spilling out of your eyes as she embraced your body. 

   “Mom, I missed you so much,” you cried into her shoulder, shedding all the tears on her floral tank top as she ran a hand gently down the back of your hair. 

   “Oh, sweetie. I missed you more. My poor baby,” she said as she wiped the free falling tears from your face. “Come on now. Let’s get you home. I’ve got some dinner ready for us. Let’s just get you settled, okay?”

   You nodded as she grabbed your luggage and hauled it into the backseat. You took your place in the passenger seat as you shifted into the leather and buckled the seatbelt over your shoulder. When she was situated in the driver’s seat, you watched her start the car up as the engine rumbled to life, and then she was pulling out on the busy streets of Tampa. 

   “So, how was the flight?” she asked as she got over into the left hand lane. 

   “It was fine. I mostly slept, so it was a smooth flight.”

   “Good, that’s good. I’m glad you made it safe, sweetie.”

   “Me too.”

   The rest of the ride was quiet as you focused on the passing palm trees that towered in the sky and on the blue, clear skies that filled the open air. Your mind started to go still as you saw the lapping ocean waves in the distance. Warm, gentle waves crashing against the shoreline as you got closer to home. 

   The silhouette of the shimmering water brought you back to Joel. To your first real date with him, when he held you in his strong arms on the warm sand, the way he kissed you like no one else did in your entire life, the way he made you feel everything so deeply, the way he said he loved you the other night. Suddenly you remembered you needed to text Joel. 

   You pulled the iPhone quickly out of your pocket and pulled up his name as it shone brightly on the lit up screen, and then you typed out the message. 

   You: Made it safely. Almost back to my house now. 

   Joel texted back a couple minutes later. 

   Joel: Glad you made it safely, sunshine. The flight was alright I assume?

   You: It was pretty smooth. I fell asleep for most of it. You know what helped me?

   Joel: What?

   You: Thinking of you :) 

   Joel: Ahh stop. Sweetheart, you’re gonna make me blush. 

   You: Did I succeed, handsome? ;) 

   Joel: You sure did, sunshine. What am I gonna do with you? 

   You: I bet you’ll think of something.

   Joel: Alright, alright. Just calm down or I’m gonna have to fly down there myself.

   You: I dare you ;) 

   Joel: Haha alright you little flirt. Go enjoy the sun and sand for me. I’ll see you in two days. 

   You: Miss you. 

   Joel: I miss ya more, sweetheart. Just two days. Then I can see my girl again. Alright now, go on. I’ll talk to you before bed. 

   You sent him one last text with a pink heart and shoved the phone back in the pocket of your jeans with a stupid grin plastered all over your face. Joel Miller was going to be the death of you. 

   “And just who were you texting? Hmm?” your mom asked with a raised eyebrow as she looked over at you from the front seat. 

   “Oh, it was no one,” you smiled as you looked out the window to your warm, muggy beach paradise. 

   “Mhm, sure,” she laughed as she turned the car down a small block that would take you back home. You’d eventually tell her about Joel, but right now you wanted to keep him your little secret. If only just for a few more minutes. 

   When you pulled into the long driveway, the house was as still as it was the moment you left for New York. Large, cascading glass windows covered the sides of the white house. Whimsical wind chimes that you placed on the front porch floated effortlessly in the soft breeze of Florida. It’s like you never even left. 

   As you walked into the house, it was all the same layout. Tan leather couches splayed across the living room with the dark blue seashell rug covering the hardwood floors, the white drapes softly blowing through the open windows as salty ocean scents covered the entire house, the open kitchen with marble counters and high ceilings that you always loved sat untouched. The light blue walls with family pictures sprawled across horizontally hung bright in the sun as the widescreen tv hummed softly with low noises from the Discovery channel. This was home. You were home, finally. 

   “It’s just how I remembered it,” you sighed as the feeling of peace washed over you. For the moment, that’s all you felt. No anxious thoughts, no panic attacks, just the warm feeling of being home. Away from racing thoughts that filled your head with turbulence and loud noises. All that was gone for the moment. 

   “Nothing’s changed much since you left for New York. Same with your room. It’s just as you left it,” your mom smiled at you as you passed her up with your rolling suitcase. “I’ll let you get settled, and dinner will be ready whenever you are.”

   You made your way to your room, the last door to the right of the long, lit up hallway. The one right next to the huge glass window that overlooked the ocean which was basically just a couple blocks from your house. 

   As you turned into your open room, you took in everything as it was before. A large glass window that was covered with light purple drapes, a queen sized bed with the same fluffy white blanket sitting draped across the pressed sheets. The fairy lights hung neatly around the edges of the walls, your little bathroom still had the same seashell mat and tropical fish stickers sprawled across the mirror, your walk-in closet still had the piles of neatly hung summer dresses that you had left for keepsakes back home. It was all how you left it, and somehow that filled a hollow hole inside you that you had been missing. 

   Home. It was so good to be home. 

   

Dinner was quiet except for the small talk about things you’d missed in Florida like your dad, the neighbors across the street, the new boat your parents had bought. It made you miss home even more, but now your home was in New York, at the dance company, in that tiny, blue apartment you so desperately loved to escape from. 

   And then it was silent, only the scraping of metal forks against glass dishes and mouthfuls of meatballs and spaghetti. It was all good until your mom spoke those awful words you’d been trying to get around for as long as possible. 

   She set her glass of sparkling water down and stared at you with concerned eyes. “So, sweetie. About New York. You’ve been having a pretty rough time, haven’t you?”

   You sighed and dropped your fork against the fine china as the clinking metal made you jump. “Yeah, mom. It’s been rough for some time now.”

   “Why didn’t you tell me you were having a hard time?”

   “Because I didn’t want to worry you. I had it under control,” you lied. You definitely did not have it under control. In fact, the whole theater was on fire at this point. 

   “Oh, sweetie. I always worry about you, especially in a big state like New York.”

   You picked up the metal fork again and twirled it around some noodles caked in red sauce. You completely lost your appetite, but you needed to find something to distract your racing thoughts. 

   “Well, talk to me, honey. Start from the beginning. Tell me everything that happened,” she insisted as she stared at you with wide eyes. 

   You nodded and looked up sheepishly as you started from the beginning. You told her about how hard Carlotta was on you, how Pierre basically threatened you day after day, how bitchy Cecilia and her little friends were, how absolutely overworked and overwhelmed you’d been for months. And it just got worse as time went on. Nothing but a ball of stress until he showed up and saved you. Joel. Your knight in shining armor. Your everything. 

   “Oh, hun. I’m so sorry you’ve been going through all that,” your mom emphasized as she reached out and put a hand over yours. “And you tried talking to Carlotta? Are there higher ups you can go to? Gosh, I need to go up there and talk to her myself and-”

   “Mom. It’s okay. We - I mean I’ve got it under control, as much as I can. I’m dealing with it.” You stabbed a piece of seasoned broccoli as you looked hard at your plate, hoping you could somehow get out of talking about anymore of this mess. 

   “Isn’t your first big show next weekend?” she asked softly as her brows knit together in concern.

   “Mhm,” you huffed as you set your fork down and leaned back into the wooden chair. 

   “What are you going to do, sweetie? Are you really going to go through with it? After everything you’ve already been through?” she asked sadly as her eyes bore into yours. 

   “I… I don’t know, mom. If I don’t, my chances of ever dancing again for a big company are over. I’ve worked my entire life for this. I don’t want to just throw that away and…”

   She placed a hand softly on your wrist as you looked up with tears licking the corners of your eyes. “Honey. I know this is a tough decision, but you can’t keep dragging yourself through the mud. There’s only so much you can take until it eats you alive. I don’t want you to do this if you’re just torturing yourself.”

   You bit your tongue and felt the tinge of blood run down the back of your throat, feeling your insides lock up as you nodded your head and held back tears. “I know. I just… need to think.”

   “Sweetie…” She put her hand gently over yours and turned you to where you were facing her. “I know you’ve worked your whole life for this. I know you love dancing, and I know how good you are at it. I want to see you up on that New York stage more than anyone else, but not at the cost of my daughter.”

   You took in the weight of her words, eyes bright with held back tears as you nodded in her direction. She placed a hand gently on the side of your face and started again. “You know, you could always move back to Florida. I’m sure there’s…”

   “No!” Her eyes went wide as your sharp yell echoed across the open kitchen. Your heart sped up at the thought of leaving New York. You couldn’t leave. Not without Joel. 

   “No? Sweetie, why the urgency?”

   “I…” You tried to hold back, but it was no use. You’d have to tell her about Joel at some point, so why not now? “I… I met someone.”

   She sat up straighter in her kitchen chair with her eyes wide, mouth parted open as a small smile crept up to her pink lips. “Met someone? Tell me everything! What’s his name, what’s he like?” she asked excitedly as she nearly bounced right out of her chair with her plate of spaghetti surely to follow after her. 

   You leaned against the sleek table and propped one elbow up as you leaned your chin against your flexed knuckle. “His name’s Joel. He’s tall, has these big, beautiful brown doe eyes you can just get lost in. He’s so sweet and charming and protective and handsome. And he’s… he’s, well… perfect.”

   Your mom watched you carefully, watching the way your eyes glowed when you talked about him, watching the way your body seemed to melt into itself as you said his name again, repeating it like a dreamy song you could get lost in. 

   “Ahh. I know that look, sweetie. You’re in love, aren’t you?” she teased as she grabbed your hand and squeezed firmly, smiling her pearly whites to you as her feet shifted up and down. 

   “How do you know?” you asked as you raised your eyebrows in question. 

   “Hun, I’ve been there before. I know what falling in love feels like, and it’s that face right there that you’re making. And that smile, that warm smile. And the way you talk about him? My goodness. I’ve never seen that look on you before. You’re positively glowing.”

   You giggled out as you could feel your face turn bright pink. “Yeah, mom. I do love him, a lot.”

   “Well, I’m so happy for you, sweetie. He better treat you good. And I want to meet this man, next time I’m in New York. Is that understood?” she laughed as she pulled you in for a quick hug. 

   “Okay, mom. Of course you can meet him.”

   “Perfect.” She pushed back and kept her hands in yours for just a second longer. “I’m so glad you came home, sweetie.”

   “Me too, mom. Me too.” You finished off dinner and talked to your mom more about Joel, telling her how he was older and had a daughter, which she took well. 

   After a few hours of catching up, you got ready for bed and practically threw yourself into the warm, silky sheets. You could barely keep your eyes open, but you needed to text Joel goodnight. You slid the phone from your mahogany nightstand and typed his name out as you started making a cute little goodnight text for Joel. 

   You: Hope you’re enjoying your night, handsome.

   It didn’t take long for your phone to vibrate against your silk sheets as you brought it back up to your face. 

   Joel: Not as much as I’d be enjoying it if you were here, gorgeous. 

   You giggled out as you sent another text. 

   You: Think so? 

   Joel: I know so. 

   You brought the fluffy blanket up to your chin and bit your bottom lip as you thought of dreamy brown eyes and thick arms. 

   You: Well, I’ll be home in no time. Just a couple days, right?

   Joel: Home. You mean with me?

   Your breath hitched at the question. Was he asking if home was with him? You tapped your fingers against the side of the iPhone and sent a response. 

   You: I mean…

   Joel: Use your words, sweetheart. Did you mean with me? In my house? 

   In his house… you really wanted that. You felt that. Like he was home, like maybe his home was also now yours. It practically was but… 

   You: Joel, you… you feel like home. You are home. 

   You watched the bubbles slowly go back and forth against the bottom of the screen as you waited and waited and waited, until finally you got a response back. 

   Joel: Sweetheart, there’s nothing more I want than to have you in my arms, in my house. You feel like home, too. 

   You threw your head back against the fluffy pillow and smiled brightly, your lips hurting from how massive your smile was. You could feel your toes curl and your cheeks burn as you read his message over and over and over again. It’d never get old, you’d print the text out and carve it into your heart so it’d always be with you. Home. He was home.

   You said your goodnights to each other and then rolled over to look out your window, hearing the faint noise of rolling waves and the sea breeze tapping against the glass. You closed your eyes and gently got pulled under the waves as sleep took you fast, but you dreamed of deep brown eyes and broad shoulders that night. And that itself made you sleep that much better. 

   

You ended up sleeping in till 10:00 am, welcomed with the warmth of the glowing sunshine against your window pane as you awoke to the smell of fresh bacon and eggs. You quickly slipped out of bed and found your pink fuzzy slippers as you exited your room. 

   When you entered into the open kitchen, the humid breeze blew in from the open glass windows as your mom used the spatula to mix up the scrambled eggs. “Good morning, sweetie! How’d you sleep?”

   “Actually, great. It was really nice to sleep in my actual bed again.” You grabbed a piece of crispy bacon and popped a piece into your mouth as you let the savory flavor slide down your throat. 

   “I’m so glad to hear it. So, what’s your plans for the day? I was thinking maybe we could go grab lunch and go shopping.” You watched her flip her flowing hair over her shoulder as she smiled your way. 

   “Yeah, I’d like that. But I think this morning I’m just gonna go take a walk on the beach. Clear my head a little,” you murmured through a piece of crispy bacon. 

   She came around the slab of the marble countertop and rested a hand on your shoulder as she brought you in for a big hug. “I think that’s a great idea. Nothing better to clear your head than a walk on the beach.”

   After she went back to finishing breakfast, the two of you talked more about New York, about the ballet, about your choices. None of it was fun, but you guessed it was good to get it off your chest. Now you just had to make that hard decision. The one you didn’t want to make. 

   When breakfast was over and after you helped clean the dishes, you got ready for the day and threw on a pair of denim shorts and a pink tank top and decided to head down to the beach. It was only a five minute walk, not far at all. When you stepped outside, you smelled the salt water blow through your hair, felt the humid air you were so used to living with in Florida, and the sunshine bathed your pale skin in some much needed Vitamin D your body had been begging for. 

   As soon as your bare feet hit the soft sand, you felt as if you were home. This was your favorite thing. The white sand, the smell of saltwater, the sounds of crashing waves, the sights of soaring seagulls and pelicans. This is what you had been missing, the ocean, Florida, home.

   You found a smooth pile of soft sand and plopped down as you dug your heels into the warm, white surface. You closed your eyes and breathed in deep, trying not to dwell on the fact that you were so close to show time, the final stretch for the next few months. Could you do it? Could you bear the fact that you’d have to dance next to Pierre and Cecilia, while taking strict orders from Carlotta? Was it worth it? Worth your sanity?

   You covered your feet under the warm grains of sand, wishing you could slowly sink and become the grainy flecks of sand, wishing you didn’t have to worry about the theater, about your overbearing peers, about anything related to dancing. You just wanted to float off into the distance, let the lapping waves carry you away to a place where you didn’t have to think at all, where you could just exist and be yourself, whoever that may be now. You kind of got lost in the chaos of it all, in the darkness and in your own drowning mind. You just wished all the screaming voices in your head would just stop, that every scrap of doubt would disappear, leave you alone for just a minute, a second, really. But that was too much to ask. The only person that could take all the panic and chaos away was Joel. Your guiding light, your lover…

   You took the next few minutes trying to unthread the jumbled thoughts in the mess of your head, trying to figure out just what you wanted, what you were willing to do. You loved dancing, you truly did, but there was that nagging voice in your head, the one that said it was too much, too mind bending, too fucked. And maybe you didn’t want to continue on, maybe you’d just give up on all your hopes and dreams because they weren’t yours anymore. At least not in that theater with those people. Maybe you just needed to…

   Suddenly, your phone started buzzing in the pocket of your denim jeans and when you went to retrieve it, it was Joel’s name that lit up across the phone screen. You eagerly answered and held the phone up to your ear as you took a deep breath and kept your voice steady. “Hey, handsome,” you answered as a small smile curled against the gloss of your lips. 

   “Hi, sweetheart. How’s Florida treatin’ ya?” His voice was warm, calm, deep as you took in his Southern drawl, wishing you could feel it blowing down the back of your neck right at this very second. 

   “It’s good. Currently just sitting at the beach, basking up the sun,” you smiled as you heard him chuckle. 

   “Better than the New York beaches, hmm?” he asked as you could practically see his brows furrow up with that smug smirk you so loved to kiss. 

   “Mmm nothing beats the white sandy beaches here. Except maybe you,” you giggled as you heard that warm breath blow through the end of the line. God, you wished he could hold you right now. 

   “Is that so, sunshine?” he chuckled through the phone. 

   “Yes,” you smiled as you drew a little heart with your index finger through the soft white sand. 

   “Such a sweet girl,” he drawled as you brought your knees to your chest and smiled dreamily as you stared out into the blue sea. 

   “So, I might’ve mentioned you to my mom last night at dinner,” you said nervously as you awaited his answer. 

   “Oh, is that right?”

   “Mhm. You know, she wants to meet you.”

   “Well, how ‘bout that? Think we’ll jus’ have to see that through then.”

   “Yeah?” you asked with a hitch of your breath. 

   “Yeah, we’ll make it happen.”

   “Okay,” you smiled as the sun warmed your skin. 

   He took a minute before he said anything else, and you knew it was coming. The question you came here to decide, if you wanted to continue on or not. You felt your stomach drop as if you were anchored down to the ocean floor, chained in darkness with no way to escape. You felt it then. The nerves pulling through you, that impending doom feeling you’d felt so often at the ballet company. It was here. You had to decide what you wanted. 

   “Did you decide yet? What you wanna do?” His voice was careful as he spoke the words, like he was walking on broken glass. 

   You sunk your feet further into the warm sand, your eyes staring out on the blue horizon as you brought your knees further into your chest. This was it. The final decision. You knew what you had to do. You knew. You were just too afraid to say it out loud because that’d make it real. 

   “I… I…” 

   “It’s finished.”

   “What?” Your breath hitched as you gasped out. What was finished? 

   “The video. It got sent to Carlotta.”

   Your eyes went wide as his words. He did it? He really did it? “What do you mean you sent it?”

   He took a breath and spoke. “I went to the theater this morning and talked with one of the security guys. He was able to pull up the footage of Pierre well… slapping you and pushing you down.” You winced at the reminder of that awful day, but gulped down any tears that might’ve spilled and let him continue. 

   “He has a list of phone numbers and was able to get Carlotta’s. So he was able to send her the video. It’s done, sunshine. That’s proof enough. I don’t think he’s gonna be able to stay in the ballet. Come Monday, if she saw it, he may very well be kicked out of the show.”

   You gasped out as you looked out toward the shiny blue ocean, releasing all the terror and anxieties of before. Joel did it. Joel really was your knight in shining armor. “Joel…”

   “I had to do somethin’. I couldn’t just stand and watch you suffer anymore. I had to do this, baby. No one is gonna mess with my girl as long as I’m around. Nobody.”

   “I… Joel, thank you. I don’t know what to say, I’m speechless. I…”

   “It’s okay, baby girl. You don’t gotta say anythin’. Jus’ know I’m always watchin’ out for you. Always, my love.”

   Always. My love. 

   “So, what’s it gonna be, sunshine?”

   You furrowed your eyebrows and looked hard out on the horizon, mustering up any and all courage you could. You let out a long sigh before you said anything else. So what were you going to do? You didn’t know. You didn’t know. 

   “I… don’t know.”

Tags: @burntheedges @jasminedragoon @littlevenicebitch69 @joelalorian @tuquoquebrute @akah565 @dugiioh @amyispxnk @blueseastorm @pedrostories @keylimebeag @msjarvis

#joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller the last of us #no outbreak!joel miller #no outbreak au #joel miller fanfiction #soft joel miller #joel miller au #dancing with fire #ballet au #joel miller angst #joel miller comfort #joel miller pedro pascal

[eloise-t-g]

long post ahead. i wanted to respond to some of the things i've seen people saying about the watcher situation. i honestly just needed to get some of this stuff off my chest lmao.

"sorry, the bridge has been burnt and i can no longer support watcher" - valid.

"i'm happy with this compromise and will continue to watch their content" - valid.

"oh so they apologise, change nothing, and now people are happy to give them money?" - things have changed. they compromised and completely changed their plan for the new website. did you not watch the update video? they're also issuing refunds to anyone who wants one.

"i bet people who over-reacted feel real stupid now!" - some people over-reacted, but a lot of people had valid criticisms and concerns. they shouldn't feel stupid if they expressed it in a non-abusive way.

"yay, we successfully bullied them into changing their minds!" - you're ... you're proud that you bullied someone? this isn't fucking elon musk or jeff bezos. these guys aren't multibillionaires exploiting their employees. these are three youtubers who want to pay themselves and their employees a living wage, while making content they're proud of, and they made a simple fucking mistake. stop throwing around the term 'eat the rich' as though it applies here.

"the apology video is clearly PR!" - yes, watcher is a business. this is how a business responds to situations like this. they had abuse hurled at them for 48 hours straight, they shouldn't feel bad for wanting to make sure everything said in the video was 100% agreed upon and analysed beforehand.

"steven was clearly the one behind this, he should be fired or step down!" - was he? do you know that for a fact? cause from what i saw, all three of them got in front of the camera and made the announcement video together. i agree that he should step down as CEO, but only because they clearly need someone who has actual business experience leading them (if you remember, ryan and shane stepped down a while ago because they didn't want to deal with that side of the company anymore - in the same video, they thanked steven for being the sole reason watcher was still going).

"they shouldn't have been silent the whole weekend" - maybe so, but it's clear they went into lockdown/crisis mode. also, businesses aren't open on weekends. i think it's fair that they waited until monday and took their time with it. maybe they should have tweeted something like "we're sorry and we're working on an explanation", but that just would have given people another place to attack them.

"you're all being parasocial" - i've seen this used against both people who are supporting/giving the team the benefit of the doubt, and people who are against everything. a lot of people (myself included) have used this experience to realise they were developing/had developed a parasocial relationship with these men. this is a good thing - it allows us to recognise these things and make changes within ourselves.

i think generally people are more parasocial towards youtubers than celebrities in films and tv shows. YT feels like there is a barrier removed between the creators and us; it makes us feel like we know these people in a way that we don't know actors who are always playing different roles. YT makes it easier to believe we're seeing the real people, when we really don't know them at all.

"why should i pay someone who owns a tesla?" - you don't have to. also, steven has been working consistently for years. it doesn't surprise me that he has enough savings for an expensive car. people are allowed to own things that you and i can't afford.

"they're embarrassed to be youtubers" - might be true, who knows. but for me it feels more like they want to be taken seriously as filmmakers/television producers, and don't feel like they can do that on YT.

"there's clearly money mismanagement going on" - i think this is likely. i personally don't know what it's like to run a business like this, which is why i've been watching videos from other youtubers who do. since they're saying they don't know where the funds are going, i'm inclined to believe watcher's budget is way off what it should be.

"why didn't they initially say they were having money troubles and might close doors?" - i can see both sides of this. i believe they should have recognised that their audience would have been more receptive to this kind of honesty. however, if you're asking people to give you money, while also saying the venture might not work out, it doesn't engender a great deal of trust. why should i pay for a 12 month sub if it's possible watcher will fold in 6? who will be around to issue me a refund then?

"we were happy with blue and yellow text on a screen!" - valid, but it's clear that they weren't. they clearly want to push themselves further creatively. on the other hand, it definitely feels like they got impatient and wanted that future creation to start now, when they don't have the funds for it. they shouldn't have tried to force their loyal audience to pay for content the audience didn't ask for.

"i don't want to fund steven, andrew, and adam flying around the world eating expensive food." - very valid. i wonder how different things would have been if this 'Worth It' revival had come around 6 months earlier. it still would have been tone deaf in a global living crisis, but i don't think people would have been this upset. what i don't understand is them doing this show if they genuinely couldn't afford it, which is the implication i got from them announcing it just before announcing the paywall.

"why don't they move their office out of LA?" - that would be incredibly expensive, especially for a company that is struggling financially. they would have to uproot their entire lives, and would probably lose a great number of their staff who don't want to/can't move. they would have to completely start over, which is something i imagine they're desperately trying to avoid.

i think the cancel culture that has grown in popularity over the internet over the last few years has led people to believe that:

they can say whatever they want online with no consequences.

people aren't allowed to make a single mistake, and should understand that when they do, it's okay to for others to spew hate and awfulness towards them.

part of me doesn't even know why i made this post, i think i just got sick of seeing the same complaints and questions lmao.

#watcher #steven lim #ryan bergara #shane madej #watcher entertainment

[sevensoulmates]

I don’t have real coherent words after that Oliver interview so I need to hear yours. Because OH MY GOD

Vindication??? VINDICATION???? VIN~DIC~ATION???!!!!!!

Like we knew. We all knew. All the fans knew, and everyone working with the show knew. But the fact that they're actually talking about it? Being transparent about it? From Mr. PR Golden Boy's mouth to the masses? Mind-blowing.

To know for a fact that Bi Buck (and I'm assuming queer Eddie and queer Buddie) was talked about (again we KNEW but like now we know know, ya know)??? I mean Tim literally said years ago that all the discussions we have about buddie online are the discussions they have in the writer's room. The fact that they TRIED to give it us and were shut down. The fact that we still rallied behind them because we fucking. KNEW?!!?!?!

Like queer fans especially like....I'm not going to get into the history of queercoding/the Hayes Code, but anyone who's been around the block with queer media just knows that writers (not just 911 writers) have done their damndest over the years to give the audience queer characters while still trying to appease their homophobic bosses that control their livelihood and the life of their art in general.

It just fucking sucks that only now, when networks realize that openly queer media sells, that they're finally allowing writers and creators to finally tell their authentic stories.

911 is interesting. They're kinda like the elder Gen-Z/Young millennial cuspers. They started during a time when queer media was allowed some visibility but still had heavy sanctions placed upon it, and so they still dealt with homophobia and discrimination in underhanded and mostly invisible ways, and are living long enough to see the social transition into big profitable open queer media.

It's like...I've heard a lot of elder queer people question why some of their fellow elders are so "mad" that young queer people have it "easier" and can be more "open". The critique is "isn't that what we were all fighting for? So that younger people did not have to deal with what we dealt with?" The same goes for TV. I know a lot of people (like people who came from SPN or the MCU or Merlin or Rizzoli & Isles or Sherlock, etc) are seeing what's happening with 911 and they're experiencing this shock of like "we deserved this" and they did. But now they get to see the fruits of their labor come true for new(er) shows like 911 or RW&Rb or Heartstopper or Heartbreak High, or Interview with a Vampire or Good Omens or Umbrella Acadmey or Euphoria or Yellowjackets or the Haunting of Bly Manor, etc.

It's still a long battle, but occasionally, like now, we get to see these BIG wins, and it should be something to celebrate.

This, combined with the fact that we knew a queer Eddie storyline was also being discussed, tells me all I needed to know. And again, I already fucking knew.

Now all we gotta do is wait. We've already waited this long.

#911 abc #buddie #oliver stark #evan buckley #eddie diaz #media analysis

[astaraels]

so let's talk some more about gallavich and their adopted runaway trans daughter Starr (more on her here and here; it'll make more sense if you read those posts first)

I mentioned that I think Mickey and Ian would move back to the South Side, and they'd have a house instead of an apartment, and that Starr would clean up the place in thanks for letting her stay—while she's doing so, maybe she runs across a school photo of a little blonde kid with a goofy smile, and familiar blue eyes, and big glasses, and she'd bet anything that this kid is related to Mickey

and she finds a frame that isn't being used, maybe up in the attic, and puts the picture in the frame and sets it on the mantel in the living room next to other family photos (Debbie and Franny; Debbie, Carl, and Liam; Lip and Tammi and their kids; a selfie of Fiona at the beach; Mickey and Ian's wedding photo; stuff like that)

so Mickey is home one day while Ian is off visiting his siblings—Mickey is too peopled out that day and decided to stay home—when he notices the new picture with the others; Starr sees his reaction, like he's seen a ghost, and she says she found the picture when she was cleaning, and thought it looked good in the frame. but Mickey's reaction maybe spooks her a little bit, and she's like "I hope that was okay"

Mickey doesn't say anything at first, but he's uncharacteristically quiet when he nods and says "yeah, that's okay" but he doesn't explain—and look, Starr knows when people wanna talk about stuff but also don't want to at the same time, but she's thirteen or fourteen years old and has no impulse control so she asks who the kid is, and even though she guessed it she's still kinda surprised when Mickey says "that's my son"

and she asks him "do you wanna talk about it?" to which he says fuck no; she's all prepared to drop the subject when he says that he hasn't even seen the kid in years, not since he was in prison and Svetlana brought Yev to visit. and slowly—maybe over the next few weeks—she learns more of the story, and even though Mickey doesn't tell her everything, she's smart enough to put the pieces together

because I really love the idea that Mickey and Svetlana get back in touch after everything went down and he and Ian got married (she'd give him shit about where was her invitation and he was all "I didn't know your fuckin address!" but she loved seeing the pictures and said "you and carrot boy look very happy together"), and now they meet up every few months for lunch or something, maybe text now and again; she keeps him updated on Yevgeny and how he's doing in school ("he wants to go to college and be doctor") and she told Mickey that if he wants to meet Yev properly he can, but he's never taken her up on the offer because he thinks Yev is better off without him

and Starr just looks at Mickey, and the picture of Yevgeny—he's a couple years younger than she is, I figure this would be when he's about ten or so—and tells him about how she thought her parents loved her, but that was only when they thought she was their son, and "I don't know what you did before but you can't be worse than my folks"

they talk about it now and again—Ian knows they do but he's learned to let Mickey work through things at his own pace—and she finds out Yevgeny is about to start middle school, and Starr eventually tells Mickey that he should go see his son. Mickey of course thinks it's a terrible idea but she's like look, man, you guys have been great to me, and it wouldn't be the end of the world if your kid at least knew you were out there. unfortunately she's painfully aware of what it's like knowing your parents don't want anything to do with you, but it's also clear to her that it's painful for Mickey to think about his son ("talking to him might be hard, but it can't be worse than staying away")

finally after Starr has been staying with them for a while—she eventually got Ian on the "talk to Yevgeny" train too, and Mickey complained that they were "fuckin ganging up on him"—Mickey goes into the kitchen after dinner, and Starr and Ian can hear him talking on the phone to someone about "-wanna see the kid next time, if that's okay" and they give each other a tiny high five

when he comes back from lunch with Svetlana a few weeks later it's with a smile on his face and some new pictures of him and Yevgeny on his phone, as well as one with him and Svet and Yev

Ian is absolutely over the moon, too, and insists they print out the pictures and put them up on the mantelpiece; and Mickey asks if the two of them wanna come along the next time he sees Svet and the kid (and Ian is like uh yeah I haven't seen Lana in forever and I wanna know how Yevgeny is doing because he loved that kid so much and I really feel like the show dropped the ball on Ian and Svet's relationship too, which is a crying shame)

and the three of them settle in to watch TV together, their cat Duchess sprawled across Mickey and Ian's laps, and their pit bull Lady curled up by Starr's feet in her chosen armchair, and Ian just grins at Mickey and doesn't have to say how proud he is of his husband, because it's written all over his face

(I'm sure I'll write more about Starr and her adopted gay uncles in the future but I just love the idea that she'd be a catalyst for Mickey reconnecting with Yevgeny, and how he'd try his best to be the exact opposite of his own dad ;~; )

#starr verse #gallavich #galladads #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #svetlana yevgenivna #yevgeny milkovich #shameless

[lol-jackles]

Walker episode 3 review

Making space. For past lost love, for current love, for children’s independence.

The episode starts with Liam foreshadowing the state of Cordell and Geri relationship when he explains the Japanese art of kintsugi, putting broken pottery pieces back together by using gold as glue, a metaphor for embracing flaws and imperfections and creating another piece of art.  Cordell and Geri’s relationship is complicated by the tragic deaths of their respective partners within 2 years of each other and the four of them were friends since high school.  

Trey and Liam tease Cordell for not telling Geri that he loves her, and Trey advises the classic “give her a drawer” at his place to show commitment. Liam talks about Stella to Cordell, but he rather trusts Stella to come to him as he's giving his adult child space. Then Cordell follows Trey's advice on giving Geri space in his wardrobe in an awkward but sweet scene.  Cordell and Geri were monogamous with their respective late partners for 20 years, so they're inexperienced when it comes to new relationships. 

Like father like daughter, the Rawlings are bad influences on the fiery member of the Walker clan.  Sadie Rawlings had convinced Stella to pretend not to have met Witt before the break-in because Stella is about to go to college and Sadie has a record.  In a panic, Stella went along.  I think ever since she spent a night in jail for something she didn’t do but because she hadn’t earned her father's trust due to her lack of credibility weighs on Stella's fear.  

Like father and daughter, Stella investigates off-the-books (i.e. not telling adults) on who is targeting her with threatening messages and leaving her car smelling like gasoline, a matchbook, and Witt’s picture.  Wait, I didn’t know Witt’s body was burned in a fiery car crash.  Was this the first time they said this or was it mentioned in an earlier episode?   

Liam's default state is to help people, but Stella shuts him out and Cordell isn't biting, so he's helping Cassie clear out her storage unit of sentimental items.  Meanwhile, Cordell looks for a shirt that Emily gave him, which Geri had accidentally donated when she made room for her things.  This upsets Cordell who assumed because Geri was present when Emily gave him the shirt 20 years ago, that she would know how much it means to him.  Half of Cassie’s sentimental collections aren’t even stuff she partook in but will once she slows down in some unscheduled point in the future.  Cordell looks to the past while Cassie looks to the future, neither are in the present. 

Alan Alda once said, “Your assumptions are your windows on the world. Scrub them off every once in a while, or the light won't come in.” Liam and Abilene respectively encourage Cassie and Cordell to start anew by not making assumptions and being active in the present. Liam gives Cassie tickets to a robot fight event and she in turns gives him a personalized key chain that he wanted all his life but never purchased for himself because Cordell couldn't have one due to how unusual his name is.

Side note: I really need a backstory on why Bonham and Abeline saddled their first born with such an unusual name.

Side note 2: Cassie couldn't have a personalized key chain either because there isn't enough Cassandras in the world. The Greek myth origin of Cassandra was a priestess who could see the future but was never believed. Hence Cassie living up to her namesake ever since she arrived in the scene.

Turns out Geri hadn't been so great with communicating to Cordell either when he had accidentally broke Hoyt’s mug but Geri didn’t mention it.  They promised to try to communicate better and they finally said their “I love you” for the first time after 3 years of slow burn and misfires.  These two don’t have a traditional “getting together” as they are widower and widow, even though Geri and Hoyt were never married their on-off-again relationship did last 20 years.  While Cordell couldn’t get his Emily-gave-me-shirt back, he glued Hoyt’s mug back together, a callback to Liam's kintsugi talk at the start of the episode.

August first day at preparation boot camp led him to make the same mistakes that many young soldiers make ahead of their first deployment, they sell all their belongings but then they have nothing to come back to upon their return home. They made too much space but fortunately Trey mentors August towards a more balanced head space and he decides to keep his vinyl collection just like Cassie keeping her dvd collections. 

While on night duty at the Ranger HQ, Cassie asks Cordell and Trey to catch her up while she was gone for 5 months; jokingly including hackers and serial killers.  Seeing Trey's and Cordell's silent facial communication, Cassie turns on her inner Sam Winchester excitement over a real serial killer on the loose and offers up her FBI connections to help with the off-the-book investigation.

The episode ends Stella and Sadie are coming up with dead ends in their off-the-book investigation when a very much alive and not-burned Witt forces Stella to drive him to an undisclosed location.

Speculation  #3!  After hearing that Stella had visited his memorial, Witt decided Stella is the one whom he can trust to get him out of whatever predicament he's in.

Score: 8.9 out of 10.  A good bottle episode focusing on character studies and development before next week's episode's deeper dive into case of the serial killer Jackal.

#walker #review #jared padalecki

[vxredemption]

The First Tear (3/3) by vxredmption(Warmund)

A COTL AU fanfic writing for @gorjee-art COTL AU (All properties, AUs, concepts, imagery, etc. go their respective owners.)

In this moment, The Lamb God's focus was now on Narinder. For the first time, after a thousand years, the only god of this realm was idle... truly idle. Their actions before were instinctive and naturally driven, like the wind needing to blow new life in the land as well carry the past with it. All of it being the necessary duty of the Lamb God, hence their never-ending goal as to ensure the dead are guided into their realm. Nothing would see their eternal task be stopped, neither by a mortal or even by another god that would match their stature before them (if they dared)... and yet... they stood in the night, their eyes looking deeply to the saddened mortal who is weeping for a reason that, despite sounding like drop of water in a rushing wave, makes their cold heart ache with pained warmth. It was then the Lamb God felt their right hand index finger flick inwards onto their massive palm, a reactive sensation coursing ever so slowly but ever so noticeably within their limbs. Their body slowly shifted towards this crying figure, their bells not ringing a single chime to give way that the Elder God is now facing towards Narinder... their eyes and head shifted down at mortal before them in better clarity. They still do not know why they make them feel so pained... they were a God made manifest in this realm. They should not care or even take notice as eventually all things will be claimed by them, as is their right to retain a necessary order of death. The Lamb God could only stare to this crying thing before them... but they soon felt their left hand that is carrying the chains of the censer grew heavy... then unbearable for his fingers to be wrapped any longer... and it became a noticeable concern as they manually pulled the mystical relic of them, not using their vast power to simply summon it away from their presence. As they moved the artifact from their hands, they carefully placed it to the side on the cold ground... and the Lamb God's gaze soon looked into the gleaming reflection of the gold artefact, seemingly calling onto them just as much as the weeping preacher. The god could feel something rousing in their heart that could not be described so easily, it too being a distant yet familiar in presence onto their being. It was a wash of disgust... contempt... then... revelating, their eyes widening slightly more than they ever did for many years. They soon looked upon their massive open palmed hands, all of their eyes carefully looking at the left and to the right, then vice versa. Their eyes then looked forward to the great darkened forest... past the crying mortal Narinder... past the great foliage of trees... past the great seas... past everything... then reaching to a place that was darkness to them... but soon a lone white shepherd came into their sight... herding a small flock in silence... being slowed as time to the God was immaterial to them in such seas of darkness. Their form was familiar... their attire was common, yet the God knew every stich of it without fault, the shepherd's cane eased onto the massive figure of divinity just as much as the small flock that surrounded it and the glowing lone shepherd. It was then, this glowing figure look towards the Lamb God... and smiled softly at them... shedding a single tear and uttering silence from their lips... yet the God knew the exact words being said despite being nothing to their ears. The words the shepherd mouthed was this: "Love again".

Back onto Narinder's reality, he soon composed himself enough to slowly stop his tears that streamed from his face and mask, which he took it off for a moment as to make it easier to wipe his eyes with his palm. It was then, as he finished wiping their eyes, a loud thundering rumble is heard and felt, Narinder jumped in his place, followed by a cacophony of bells that ranged hard against his ears. His eyes then looked to the source... and froze still... a sight being too much to muster into a cohesive thought. The Preacher of the New Faith... is seeing his god on his knees, open palms and wrists resting low on their thighs... their eyes and the their horn's eyes looking onto him... their once silent and cold expression... now reading guilt and sadness... with but a single white tear that trailed slowly on their dark face from one of their red eyes. The preacher could only stare in shock... but he soon eased himself slowly towards the Lamb God, taking a few steps closer as he looked deeply into their great red eyes. He did not know what to do next... yet he let dominant hand to instinctively reach out and took hold on one of the index fingers of their god... which curled slightly to the warmth of their touch. Narinder's eyes darted to the god's hand... then back to their god's eyes... and couldn't help but muster a smile at them as to give his words of reassurance to his pained god... a thought and act that was almost too much a dream to them as tears started to stream down from their eyes again. "Lamb... it's alright... I am here... even after all those years..." The Lamb God's expression soon read surprise... then reading tearful joy, their great head lowering a bit as they closed their eyes, silently giving thanks to their closest follower and friend for being with them for all those years. The tear from their closed eyes soon fell from their face and landed on the ground, glowing brightly for a moment before a small white-gold flower slowly grew in its place, attracting nearby fireflies to slowly surround it and the two as they focused each other's embrace to heart. Narinder too closed his eyes, letting his tears wash his face as his arms now wrapped tightly around his god's index finger, hugging as much as he could with trembling strength, being as close as he could to properly hug his lost friend. The two have not moved from their places as the first rays of dawn started to crest over the forest... signaling a new day to be alive again. End of part 3... and story Thanks for reading this fic in this few week journey! (Maybe I should do a epilogue bonus... something something, balance sadness and what not)

#cult of the lamb #ascension of mercy - cotl au #my writing #artist mention #my fanfic #series

[fl3shm4id3n]

ₐₜₜₑₙₜᵢₒₙ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐫𝐤𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦?

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴊᴏɴᴀᴛʜᴀɴ ᴄʀᴀɴᴇ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ꜱᴜᴄᴄᴜʙᴜꜱ/ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: slight SMUT?, Mentions of murder/homicides, reader is a narcissists and delulu (delusional af), mentions of promiscuity, talks about sex, reader is self absorb, age gap (reader is early 20s and Jonathan is in his early 30s), toxic behavior, reader is a bit needy, making out, titty grabbing and groping.

A/N: I wanted to write something, based on Jennifer Check from Jennifer's Body.

Masterlist

All that you regretted was not being careful enough, you had been caught. And out of all night, it just had to be prom night, you hated being seen the way that you did. Your dress all wet with blood, your hair was also wet and your makeup was a mess. When you saw the pictures on the news paper, you nearly lost it. All you wanted to do was scream by how bad you looked that night. The only good thing was that you looked hot in the orange jumpsuit given to you, the whole trial you were busy trying to look good and pretty for the cameras. You'd even smile and wave as if you were some kind of celebrity who just won an award and was loved by many. You weren't, but you loved to think that you did.

You were going to be an Arkham for a while, well until you were stable enough to go back out into the real world. You hated your stay. They didn't give you any kind of skincare or makeup that you could use. The only thing that was good was that you had your own room. Except that room looked like shit. You hated it, but it was better than dealing with a lunatic. Most days you'd be rotting in bed or looking at yourself in the small plastic mirror. Trying to make yourself look decent of some kind. You hated not having skincare of your makeup. One morning you had woken up, then discovered that you had a pimple on your cheek. You threw a fit, you screamed and even fought with the security guards because of your silly little outburst.

You didn't even know if you'd be able to stand being in Arkham for long. It's already been two whole years and you still haven't adjusted to that place for lunatics. You wanted to get out, but you couldn't. You couldn't bride anyone with smiles, eyelash flutters or even a kiss on the cheek. Nope, it would be much harder then you thought. When it came to doctors, you tried to bride them with a wink here or a complement there. But no, they'd get fed up with you and leave to tend to someone else. It frustrated you so much. One because those tricks would normally work on anyone. Mainly those dumb high school boys who really wanted attention from a hot girl. Except, you weren't in high school anymore. You were a whole adult and so was everyone in the nut house.

That morning you simply laid in bed, staring endlessly at the ceiling while chewing on a piece of your hair. You were bored, not only that but you felt as if your skin was dry and flaky. You were having a bad morning, all you wanted to do was lay in bed and simply rot. While you continued mindlessly staring at the ceiling, you heard your door open. Sitting up, you saw that it was one of the guards. Great, another doctor. Hopefully this one is easy to crack.

You got up, then followed the guard into the room where you were left alone with the doctor. They told you to sit down and wait, as you waited. You couldn't help but bitch and whine to yourself about looking like crap. "Ugh, if I could at least have my gold hoop earrings." You whined, while throwing your head back as you slumped onto the chair. After a few minutes. You heard the door open, you didn't brother looking over until you saw a man standing in front of you. "You must be miss L/N." He said, his voice sounded, soothing and almost relaxed. Looking up, you saw who this new doctor was.

You were taken by surprise due to how cute he was. He looked no older than late twenties or early thirties maybe. He has brown hair, pale skin, peachy plumped lips and those eyes. God, those eyes were the most beautiful thing ever, almost as beautiful as you. He looked just like those boy magazines that you'd often stare at and have day dreams about bring with those boys. "And who am I pleasured to meet?" You asked, while sitting up straight, even fixed your hair a bit. "I'm Jonathan Crane, but you can call me Doctor Crane." he responded, with a neutral look and voice. You couldn't help but bite your bottom lip and ogle at him, like a teenage girl, that you still wished you were.

"Do you know why am here?" Jonathan asked, while studying your body language. Seen how you must have been smitten by him. It was an obvious observation. "Because you wanted to see the one and only, Y/n L/n?" You teased, while you giggle. All he did was look at you, seen how you were just being a tease. "Just kidding, you came to see what was wrong with me, but don't worry. There's nothing wrong with me, but I'll let you check me up." You said, with a smile and wink. Jonathan just sighed, he almost couldn't believe how shameless you were. "So, your file says that you have been convicted of a few homicides involving boys." He explained, reminding you on why you were here in the first place.

"That was a long time ago, it doesn't even matter anymore." You said, almost getting annoyed but kept your composure. "Tell me about yourself, you must be interesting." You said, while leaning against the table a bit, giving him somewhat of a view of your chest. You were glad that the orange shirt of your prison jumpsuit was somewhat big enough to give a peak at your chest. "How about, we talk about you instead. I'm here to talk to you and about you." Jonathan said, making you blush like a school girl. Were you dreaming or something? "About me? What of me?" You asked him, while looking at him. Admiring how handsome he was. How well put together he is. You just wanted to run your fingers through his hair, maybe even take his glasses and try them on just for shits and giggle. You felt as if you had fallen in love with him on the spot.

"Dunno, I'll let you decide." He said, god he was such a gentleman. "I don't know..." you said, not sure what to say or do, but then you got an idea. You quickly changed your demeaner, you went from being flirtatious to a bit sad. "It's just, been so lonely." You moaned, almost seductively. But he didn't budge. "How so?" He asked, while studying your body language. "You know, no big, strong, handsome man to protect me." You said, while looking at him directly in his eyes. You had a small pout on your lips. Trying to seem and sound as innocent and seductive as possible. "I'm sure security is doing that." He said, damn it! He wasn't falling for it.

You sighed, but kept up your act. "I know, but... You know what I mean. I want someone to love and protect me. You know, how a husband protects his wife?" You asked him, while moving both your arms on both sides of your breasts and slightly pushed them together. Making them more visible for him to see. But you noticed how he wasn't even trying to look at your chest. He just looked at your face. Then you thought of something, slowly. You scooted a bit closer to the table, then your right arm reached over and held it out for his hand to take. "Can you lend me a hand?" You asked sweetly while tilting your head to the side. Jonathan hesitated, but he reached out and allowed you to get a hold of his hand.

You took his hand and slowly guided it towards your chest, but you placed his hand on where your heart was. His huge palm could feel the plushy and softness of your breast. You somewhat wished that he'd give it a small and light squeeze. "Feel my heart Doctor Crane... I think it's broken." You nearly said in a whisper. Seductively. Even with his hand on your breast he didn't seem to budge, he just looked at your face and nothing else. After some time, he removed his hand off your breast and checked the time on his watch. "Well, our time is up." That's all he said, you felt disappointed. You weren't used to that kind rejection, your previous doctors would of cummed right in their pants, him? He was going to be a challenge and you weren't going to give up easily.

Almost a whole month has passed and still, nothing. Doctor Crane was a hard nut to crack. Not only that, but your so called supernatural powers didn't show up. To this day, you still aren't really able to explain how you got them. Ever since that night that you had been killed by those guys who claimed to be a band, you've been behaving and acting strange. Were your powers weak? Or did they go away? The reason why you were powerful a two years back, was because you fed off the attention you were given by everyone, specially the boys. In here, anyone barely even looked at you. It made you feel weak and drained. Maybe that's what it was, the lack of attention is what's making you feel that way. You hated it.

The only one who fed you attention was Doctor Crane, after your sessions. You'd have that energy, you felt much fresher than before. That's what made you love him even more. Despite his coldness, he gave you that energy that you so needed. Your previous doctors didn't do that, since they only see you once and after you played your little game they'd leave because they couldn't stand you. Ever since Doctor Crane into your life, you couldn't help but fall for him. Was it really love? You weren't so sure or bothered trying to find an answer to your question. You just loved how he'd give you attention, even if it'd irritate the hell out of him. He stayed. Probably to study you some more, but you didn't mind being studied by him. As long as he feeds you the attention you've craved for the last two years, you didn't care.

That day, you didn't see the doctor. Since he was other stuff to do. It'd been a whole week since you've seen him. He'd come every day, until now. He just hasn't showed up at all. It made you sad and made you feel even more tired and drained. His attention was something that you've got addicted too. You wanted it, you had to have it. But you couldn't, it wouldn't be easy. You felt your skin get flaky and dry, like a snake's. You began to see that you were getting dark circles under eyes. Because of how tired you've got. God, you missed him so much. You've began to have dreams of you and him, married, living together. You didn't understand why, you didn't have dreams of that sort, ever.

It was already late at night, you laid in bed. Alone in the dark, still feeling like shit. You were laying on your side, facing the wall. Thinking about Doctor Jonathan Crane. You simply stared at the wall, seen how you had managed to engrave his name onto that old concrete wall. Since the day he didn't show up, was when you craved his name into the wall. Just so that you could stare and look at the name, sometimes even caress it as if it was the most delicate thing. Eventually you closed your eyes, trying to maybe get some sleep, and dream about him.

But your eyes quickly shot open when you heard the door of your room open. You quickly sat up and turned around to see who or what it was. It was somewhat dark, but the small window of your cell allowed you to see who it was. It was him, Jonathan. He stood there looking back at you for a whole minute. You didn't even notice him closing the door, your name focus was him. "Jonathan?" You said, almost in disbelief. "The one and only." He said, his voice made your chest rise and your heartbeat go over the roof. Not only that, but you also felt how your skin began to feel fresh, as if cold water had been splashed onto your dry skin. Making it feel refreshed.

"Oh Johnny." You said, quickly getting up from your bed and ran up to him. He wasn't far away from you, since your room was small. Almost as small as your old walk in closet. Once you reached him, you wrapped your arms around his waist. Hugging him tightly. "I missed you, so much." You said, while hugging him. You couldn't help but get a whiff of his washed clothed mixed with his cologne. You missed that scent, his scent. You felt how he too wrapped one arm around your waist and petted your hair. "I know you did." He said, neutrally, but it sounded sweet to you. He was sweet to you in his way. You didn't want to let go or him to let you go. You wanted to be in his arms forever until you both die and rot.

Then he slowly pulled away from you, looking down at your face. But you kept your arms around his waist, so that he couldn't go just yet or even attempted to leave. "You have no idea how bad I wanted to see you." Jonathan said, while gently caressing your cheek. Making you purr and close your eyes by the touch of his hand on your now fresh and bright skin. "Where did you go? Why did you leave me here alone?" you asked, almost desperate to know his reasons why you disappeared for a whole week. "I had other things to tend to." He said, while looking at you. Seen how week and vulnerable you were at the moment. "Doesn't matter anymore, at least you came here. To see me." You said, with a small smile on your lips. Happy to be this close to him. This was the first time you've ever been this close to him.

"Can I ask you something?" You asked, almost timidly, but you just had to ask him. "Of course, what is it?" He asked, while looking at you. His eyes, damn those eyes. They made your legs shake and nearly go week. "Could I kiss you?" you asked, while beginning to breath heavily. All of a sudden you got, you felt your skin heat up and needed to remove some clothes just to calm the heat down. Jonathan smiled at you. Sweetly, but that sweetness had a small hint of sinisterism. "Of course you can." He said, without hesitating. You smashed your lips against his.

Jonathan let out a small grunt as soon as your lips touched his. Your arms snaked around his neck, desperately trying to get him to be closer to you than he already was. Jonathan held you close to him as well. The kiss got slightly violent and more sloppy. Both your tongued wrestled one another's, followed by teeth clanking against one another and your lips pressed against his. You needed that, you wanted that. Jonathan's hands grabbed at your ass, giving it a squeeze every now and then, as a way of getting you either railed up or just flat out tease you. Soon after, you felt his hand get a hold of one of your breasts. Causing you to moan against his mouth.

His palm caress and gripped onto your breast, slightly pinching your harden nipple. "Ah!" You moaned against his mouth, feeling how your once weak body was burning with desire. You wanted more, you needed more. As soon as your hands reached down to get a hold of his belt. Jonathan stopped grabbing your breast and pull away from the sloppy kiss. "Wha-" You manage to say. You looked at him, shocked and breathless by his sudden motion. "Now now." He simply said, while he admired how worked up you were. "But-" You were quickly cut off by him. "Shh, shh." He shushed you. In which you. You could feel how his cold hand gently got a hold of your chin and cheeks, as soon as his cold skin touched the hot skin of your cheeks. You felt relaxed.

"Patience. You're not ready yet." He said, making you let out a small whine. "But I am." You whined, you sounded so needy, but you didn't care. You wanted him right there and then. "You think you're ready, but you're not. Be patient." He said said, almost in a whisper. So that only you could hear. You wanted to protest, but you didn't. You choose to listen again. You simply nodded in response. "Alright, Doctor." You said, almost in a form of a moan. Jonathan smirked at you, gently cleaning off yours and his mixed saliva off your bottom lip with his thumb. "Good girl." He praised, making you nearly fell at your knees by his words.

ₙₑₓₜ ₚₐᵣₜ

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane x y/n #jonathan crane x fem reader #jonathan crane x female reader #jonathan crane x patient reader #jonathan crane x succubus reader #jonathan crane x vampire reader #jonathan crane fic #jonathan crane fics #fem reader #fem y/n #female reader #female y/n #patient reader #patient y/n #succubus reader #succubus y/n #vampire reader #vampire y/n #cereza's writing #cereza's fics #𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔷𝔞'𝔰 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 #𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔷𝔞'𝔰 𝔣𝔦𝔠𝔰

[rainofthetwilight]

LEVI I WANNA GIVE YOU TRAMUA ABOUT ARIN

So, we all know that Arin is struggling to improve his spinjitzu and he feels useless and just wants his parents back.

…He feels jealous. And we know that he doesn’t have an elemental power according to Doc Wyatt.

And he will *probably* fight Sora if he finds out that Sora “helped” his Object Spinjitzu.

What I see from Arin is that he is slowly getting traumatized..

And I have multiple questions from where Arin’s arc is going.

My biggest question is, is the ninja holding Arin him back or his parents holding him back? I think it both.

Not to mention that there is so much foreshadowing to Arin’s arc.

And why do I imagine Arin is just trapped in like, a cage full of insecurities, or trauma? And I can imagine that he can’t get out of that cage.

Ras said that Arin is not improving since the first time they met, Egalt said that Arin is useless, Sora is improving and might be able to learn spinjitzu, and most importantly, Lloyd’s and Arin’s relationship is slowly falling apart like Wu and Morro.

My poor Arin is just having one HECK of a trauma here. And I swear to the Fsm if the writers gives Arin has even more trauma in season 2 part 2 than part 1 I will throw a chair.

But who knows…? Someone said that it was a cannon event that every sunshine character has an angst arc.

Sorry for making you insane, Levi I just wanted to share this idea with you just for fun.

And also, do you think that Arin is going through 5 stages of grief or..? Idk, I wanted to ask you and tell me what’s your thoughts on this.

AHDHAJDBJAJDJAJSNANA YEAH I'M. I'M NOT OKAY RN 👍👍👍

also absolutely do NOT apologize for making me insane I am literally loving these asks so much bro SHDJAJDJW 😭 I love analysing silly lil lego characters w/ you all <333

the thing about the foreshadowing is that it actually feels very intentional, like obv I know foreshadowing is pretty much always intentional but like..you get what I mean?

they are constantly reminding us how much of a great person arin is, in s1 especially. he's a good friend, he's kind, he trusts people quickly, always has that hope in him and so much more. something is definitely going to happen, even if the whole sora helping him thing didn't happen, he is going to be put through the wringer whether if he actually gets an evil arc or not

plus, he already is traumatized. loosing your parents and neighborhood all in one day while navigating an entire new world with so many new places and people on your own (at first) , while only being atleast 10 years old, is pretty traumatizing all in itself. but even after all of these years, he still had hope, he still had hope that his parents and heros could come back. and guess what? his heros did come back, and what did he exactly say again?

''if I loose hope the ninja could come back, then I loose hope that my parents could come back."

even after the ninja came back, his parents didn't. all these years he relied on his hope for the ninja to come back to bring his parents back aswell, but their whereabouts are still unknown. add that to the extreme pressure of saving the world from ending and the amount of self doubt he has, that's when the shell of his hope finally began to crack

in s1, the return of the ninja gave him even more hope than he had before. he was still excited and animated, and finally got his dreams to come true (becoming a ninja). the thought of his parents holding him back didn't plague him as much as now, because that hope in him was still there and it only grew stronger each adventure. but now, even after a long while since the ninja had came back, his parents were nowhere to be found. and that just hurts

dude the insecurities part AGHDJS...the weight of being a ninja was finally becoming heavy on his shoulder and that only added to his frustration and anger of not being good enough. he sees his friends around him improve, and be useful in a way, unlike how he had failed time and time again without achieving results. and with egalt calling him useless and ras constantly reminding him how he still hadn't improved, and he feels jealous even tho he doesn't want to, and it just made everything worse.

I'm also thinking abt how sora accidently reminded him of how he didn't imporve aswell, by saying "your spinjitzu is just as good as when I met you!". and even though she meant it in absolute good faith, that's just it to arin. that's it, he was still in the same level he was the first time, he didn't improve. and with how he got angry at her when she was only trying to cheer him up after what happened, I can't even imagine what would happen if the news of that spinjitzu throw help thing comes out

ALSO. ARIN GOING THROUGH THE FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF. DUDE NOW THAT I THINK ABT IT..

anon had also sent an ask abt this too!!!

so like, now that I actually think abt it, what if that hope was actually just a cover of his denial? the five stages as we all know are denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance in that order. so like...what if that hope wasn't really hope, but instead a disguise for denial?

whenever the topic of his parents came up, especially in s1, he kept denying the fact they wouldn't come back. same with the ninja, he still believed they were out there

and now in s2, we see his self doubt and his trauma catch onto him. we saw how angry he was at himself, even to the point of shoving lloyd away when trying to comfort him and almost snapping at sora when she was trying to do the same. we don't see much of that 'hope' like in s1 anymore. it's much more..sadder, more angrier even

and with all this, he's most definitely going through them, now on the second stage. first in denial of his parents and the ninja not returning, and now anger at himself and the world for hating him like this

when I tell you I am so so excited to see what they do with arin's arc w/ all of this going on for his character I am not lying bro, I'm so insane AHDJSKDJJW 😭👍

#ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #ninjago spoilers #dragons rising spoilers #ninjago arin #levi's asks #ty for the ask! #levi's analysis #also sorry it took a while to answer these asks!! school's been kicking my ass 👍 (and final exams r in like 2/3 weeks 😭)

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 27 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Oh guys this is a hard read for my first post in a hot second. I have been slow at writing this, cause this is super important and I don't want to have it be bad, or tacky. This is obviously horrible what happened to these people, and sometimes that horrific a of an event is hard to put into words. This is in means no way to offend anyone.

Disclaimer: End part of episode 9, if you are not comfortable with this please don't read.

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, not hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, anyone else please let me know.

We again piled into the trucks, we were making good time, but it still felt like years being in the back of the vehicle. Babe had kept my secret from everyone like I had asked, but I caught him sending me looks throughout the night. The sadness still lingering in his eyes from the conversation we had had previously. All I could do was send him small smiles. 

We passed through the green countryside, chatting amongst ourselves. The rolling plains seemed endless, as they stretched out for miles, further than the eye could see. 

The trucks passed through the outskirts of the small rural town, a decrepit barn sat on the side of the road. Even from over the roar of the engines from all of the vehicles driving by, I could still hear the yells of men. I look to the barn curious about the commotion, everyone else also peering over. The barn door swung open as soldiers tossed men onto the ground, I could see from here the men were wearing German uniforms. I couldn’t look away fast enough as the soldier’s standing behind the men raised their guns, shooting them in the back of the head. I turned my eyes away from the scene, not wanting to witness the brutal killings. 

The other men seemed unfazed.

Except for O’Keefe, who looked around to his fellow comrades with shock on his face. They didn’t return the sorrow that etched his features, only shrugging their shoulders, or smiling at the man for looking so distraught by what he had seen. 

His eyes finally landed on mine. I returned the look of sadness and horror, but mine was worn with memories behind it. O’Keefe eyes shone with new fear and sadness, whereas mine was tattered and old. O’Keefe had not yet known the horrors of war, I guess that’s why the men didn’t reciprocate his concern. We all had seen much worse than a few men being shot in the head. 

What an odd statement to make. To realise. 

O’Keefe’s reaction was only natural, but for us it wasn’t out of the ordinary. It was a sad reality to think we were accustomed to the horrors we had seen.    

We finally pulled into the little town. The men quickly departed the trucks, getting orders from the Lieutenants. We weren’t staying the night, just stopping for a break, before continuing on in our journey. 

“I have to go on a patrol through the woods.” Don said as he approached me. I nodded my head, giving him a smile. There wasn’t much for me to do here, we weren’t unpacking, so I hung around the officers in case they needed me for something.   

“Ok, be safe.” I placed a kiss on his cheek. I watched as he walked away joining the rest of the men he was going with. 

—----------------------------------------------

“Emily! Guys! Hey, have you seen any of the officers?” Frank yelled from behind us. I turned to face Perconte, his normal playful expression filled with urgency. 

“No.” Babe, Lieb and I all stated. 

“Is everything ok, Frank?” I asked the man, my face changing to concern for my friend. He had been on one of the patrols. Everyone else had come back from theirs except for their group. But Frank was by himself, where were the other men? Even Don had come and gone, saying they hadn’t found anything. Frank didn’t answer me though, sprinting from one soldier to the next, asking the same questions. 

I watched him, my brows furrowed and lip caught between my teeth. Babe and Lieb seemed to have brushed off the odd interaction going back to the conversation they were having. 

“Ain’t that right, Em?” Babe nudged me, but my gaze was still fixed on Frank running around frantically. 

“Em?” Lieb asked, clicking his fingers in front of my face. 

“I think something’s wrong.” I told them, my stomach churning. I felt unsettled, something not sitting right in my gut. 

“He’s probably fine.” Lieb said, lighting his smoke, taking a deep drag from the cigarette. “Don’t look so worried, Emmy.” He tried to reassure me, stroking his hand down my back. But I shook my head. I set off after Frank as he ran into one of the buildings. 

“Em, where are ya going?” Babe called after me. But I didn’t turn to explain. I ran after Frank, gaining on him as I sprinted, dodging my way through the crowd.   

Frank found Winters first. The red haired man walked out of the building they had been temporarily occupying. I hung back not wanting to interrupt them, but I was desperate to know why Perco was so frantic. 

“Major Winters, Sir.” Frank started chasing after the officer who walked briskly towards where I stood. 

“Uhh, we found something.” Perco didn’t seem to know how to phrase his words. The pair passed in front of me, I followed behind them closely, eavesdropping in on their conversation. 

“We’re out on patrol and we came across this…” Frank stopped trying to find the right way to describe what he had seen.

“What, what, what, what?” Major Winters prompted Perco trying to get him to spit out what he wanted to say. 

“Frank, Frank, what is it?” Winters seemed just as concerned as I did. Perco stood in front of Dick, mouth agape, trying to think of how he wanted to explain himself. 

“I don’t know, sir.” He uttered, shaking his head. 

At that moment my stomach dropped. I didn’t know why, but something about how flustered, confused and scared Perco looked set me on edge. 

This war wasn’t pretty, hell no war was. But there were horrific things done, so many lives lost. There were a number of explanations as to what their patrol found, each one just as dreadful as the next.  

Winters saw that too. He loaded a couple groups of men into the back of the trucks, myself included. With Frank in the front car with the rest of the officers, he gave directions back to where the patrol waited.

I sat between Don and Lieb, no one seemed to take Frank’s worries seriously. The men in the bed talked and chatted casually to each other. I sat elbows on my knees and head in my hands, I couldn’t stop my leg from jittering and my stomach churning. 

We drove into the dense forest, following the dirt roads and Frank’s directions. I watched as Perco lifted his arm pointing left, my eyes followed. 

My heart dropped as my eyes landed on the gruesome sight. 

There in the thick of the trees, was a clearing. 

Within the open space was a fence, lined with barbed wire. The tall barrier loomed over a muddy field. In the middle sat wooden huts and a bigger building sitting at the edge. Outside of the fence was a tall watch house. 

I knew from the first glance what this was. 

No, I knew from the smell. 

That was the first thing to hit me. The stench of sweet rotting flesh filled my senses, it felt as if it clung to everything, there was no way to escape it. The men around me screwed up their noses and flinched away from the foul scent, their attention finally captured. 

The chatter had died as soon as the camp came into view. From a glance around the bed I could tell a lot of the men were confused, unsure of what they were looking at. Just like Frank; they were unable to put into words exactly what they were seeing.       

Within the confines of the barrier stood people. Well, they didn’t look exactly like people. I could see, even from a distance, their bodies were unfed and unwashed. 

The trucks stopped, the men slowly disembarking. It was silent, as they all tried to understand what exactly they were looking at. 

I jumped out immediately walking closer to the barrier. There were two fences. A perimeter between the two, enough for people to walk in. A body lay between the two barriers, gaunt and lifeless. 

The men inside the gate all wore the same sets of clothes, blue striped pyjamas. I swallowed the lump in my throat, tears already brimming in my eyes. 

It was one thing to learn about in school, but another to see it in real life. It all but consumed me. 

Everyone else still had no idea what this really was. Eyes all filled with questions and horror. 

Winters slowly approached the gate. The men inside stood waiting. I wonder if they knew if we were good or bad, but they didn’t run. They gathered around looking back at us as we looked in on them. 

There were no women, no children, only men inside. But they didn’t look like it. They all appeared pale and lifeless, only skin and bone, barely moving. 

The men opened the gate as everyone gathered in front of the opening. 

“Major, sir?” Christenson questioned, asking if he should proceed in opening the next gate. The gate that would allow these people to be free of their confines, and allow us to enter their decimated prison. 

“Open it up.” Winters commanded. The men nodded their heads, cutting off the chain that secured the compound closed.   

“Stand back, back it up, back, back.” Christenson commanded the prisoners as he tried to swing open the gate. 

They stepped back revealing smoking huts and even more men, ones who didn’t seem strong enough to approach the barrier. 

I couldn’t hold back my tears as they slipped down my face. I looked from person to person I could see the torture they had endured etched into their features, but I’m sure that was only a second. Only a small glimpse into the years of horror they had to live through. 

How many people did they have to watch die, family, friends, peers. Wondering if they were next or secretly praying that someone would just end their pain.

I wonder how long they were kept in these cages like animals waiting for their slaughter? 

How could people be so cruel to their own kind? 

We moved forward slowly as a group, the prisoners watched us, they looked apprehensive for a moment before they all seemed to realise we were not the enemy. 

They moved forwards, hands reaching out grabbing at the soldiers who walked in. I felt the sleeves of my shirt being tugged glancing to the side to find the men holding tightly onto me. 

“I’m sorry.” Was all I could manage, they didn’t even understand what I was saying but I just wanted them to know how awful I felt. 

A man reached for me embracing me in his arms, I held him back. I could feel under the material of his clothes, his thin frame, I could feel every rib and bone as I hugged him. 

He sobbed into my shoulder whispering in German, I didn’t understand what exactly he was saying but it sounded like he was thanking us. 

“Liebgott, Liebgott!” Winters called from the front of the group. My heart stopped. Lieb, my best friend, my rock. He had no idea his own people were one of the main targets in Hitlers regime.

I watched Lipton move back through the crowd yelling Lieb’s name. Joe and Don stood guard just outside the gate, guns in hand. 

Lipton brought him back through the crowd. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, he glanced over to find my gaze. 

Joe tilted his head, without words he was asking me if I was alright. I weakly nodded my head still wrapping my arms around the German man who wept into my shoulder. 

There was no way I could stop Lieb from finding out, and it would break him. All I could do was be there for my friend. 

Lipton spurred the men into action, instructing the men to give these people rations, blankets, food and water anything we could spare. 

The man holding me stepped back collapsing to the floor, I glanced around looking for water. 

“Water, can I get some water over here!” I yelled, Babe moved quickly holding out a canteen for me to take. 

I unscrewed the lid, pouring water into the man’s mouth. He was exhausted, as if he was holding on to the last of his strength until help came. When he knew he was safe he finally let go. 

I moved from person to person, tending to their ailments. But most of them I couldn't do much for, it wasn’t like they were actively bleeding out like all the other injuries I had become adjusted to. They were sick and starving. 

The only thing I could do was offer food and water. But each time I lifted my head the numbers grew, the more that gathered, the more ill they looked.  

A man approached me holding another in his arms. The man in his arms looked so weak, nothing to him but skin and bone, so pale he was almost translucent. 

The prisoner holding the man spoke quickly in German, his eyes pleading with me to help. I held out my arms as he passed over the very ill man. 

I let out a gasp as he was placed in my arms, he weighed almost nothing, I could feel every piece of him under my fingertips. 

I knelt to the ground holding the German man in my lap, trying to figure out what I could do to help him.  

“How can I help you?” I muttered under my breath. 

“Sing bitte für mich.” The man that lay in my arms said. I tilted my head listening to his whispered words. 

“Lieb!” I called, he rushed over kneeling next to me. 

“Sing bitte für mich.” The man repeated himself. 

“He wants you to sing for him.” Lieb said softly. I nodded at the man, if that's what he wanted I would do anything. 

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey.” I sang quietly to the dying man, the song my mother used to sing as a lullaby to me. 

“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you, please don’t take my sunshine away.” The man reached his hand up cupping my face as I sang for him. A tear slipped down my cheek. Lieb sat close and watched us. His own eyes glistened. 

“The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms.” The man smiled at me, more tears falling down my cheeks as I held him in my arms. 

“When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken, so I hung my head and cried.” The man brushed away my tears, as his hand fell back down to his side. His breathing faded. 

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.” A sob left me as the man stared up at the sky. 

I let go of his hand, resting it by his side. I moved from underneath him, lying him gently on the floor. 

Joe encased me in his arms as I sobbed into his chest. He pulled away, I looked up to find Don standing over us. He opened his arms for me, I stood from my position on the floor and moved into his embrace. His hand ran down my back as I cried. 

We pulled apart, Lieb had gone and gotten a blanket. He gave it to me to lay over the man. I bent down, closing his eyes to make him at peace and gently placed the blanket over his body. 

“I’m so sorry.” I whispered as I stood again. I wiped my tears away.  

Lieb was called away to translate, as Don and I moved around the camp, trying our best to help the men who came to us. 

We stuck close to each other not wanting to stray from the other’s side. 

I kept glancing over my shoulder to find Lieb with the officers and one of the German men. He was translating for them. I was just waiting for the bomb to be dropped, the truth to be revealed. 

“Everything ok?” Don asked, I shook my head. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, coming closer. 

“Don, this camp. These aren’t prisoners of war.” I started, unsure of how I was going to explain this to him. His brows furrowed as he listened. 

“These people are innocent. They were dragged from their homes, away from their families. The only thing they have in common is that they are different.” There were so many groups here, but anyone who was ‘imperfect’ or ‘different’ was casted out. 

“What do you mean?” Don couldn’t understand that these people did nothing wrong. I’m sure his mind went to why would they lock these people up if they were innocent?

“Jews, Poles, Roma, musicians, people with disabilities, people of colour, this is who they have captured. And this isn’t the only one! There are thousands of these camps, some far worse than this. Don, Hilter wants a superior race, anyone who doesn’t fit that bill he’s exterminating.” Don couldn’t stop the horror in his eyes as he realised my words. 

“You’re saying there are more of these camps? That more people are in this condition?” Don asked, his eyes flicking around our surroundings imaging more of these exact situations. 

“They split up the families, women and children together and then the men together. These camps cover all of Germany and some other countries as well.” I explained the best I could to Don, who didn’t look like he was able to wrap his head around the information spilling from my lips. 

“Wait, how do you know this?” He asked his brows furrowed together as he glanced over at me. 

I bit my tongue, this wasn’t the time to expose my true self, all of this was too much in itself. 

“The nurses have been talking about it, I didn’t quite believe it till now.” I lied through my teeth, but Don didn’t notice, he was too wrapped up in the scene playing before us. 

“What are we going to do?” He asked, his sweet eyes full of sorrow as he looked over each person that walked in front of us.  

“I don’t know?” I answered honestly, as I stared off into the distance.   

I again glanced over to Lieb who was translating for the officers. Each man with their own look of horror and shock on their face. I bit my lip, waiting and watching. 

“Juden, Juden.” The prisoner they were talking to repeated. I didn’t need to be translated, I could see it clearly on Joe’s face what the man had said. 

“They’re Jews.” Lieb uttered, in his own disbelief and rage. Lieb was a loyal man. This camp, this attack, was on his own people, his family. 

“Lieb knows.” I told Don who was giving water to a man. I wanted to run over and hug him, but he was keeping his composure, still translating for the officers. So I turned my back and helped the men who gathered before me.  

The further we walked into the camp the more awful it became. The huts the men were living in were burned down to the foundations, burnt skeletons still resided in the ash and rubble. 

“Jesus Christ!” Don muttered covering his face with a piece of fabric, the smell was so strong it almost made it unbearable to breathe. 

“Look at their arms.” Don pointed out two men who lay still in the ruins. Numbers etched into the flesh on their wrists. 

“Like cattle.” Babe shook his head. We walked in silence through it all.  

We helped as much as we could, going into the huts and bringing people out. Each time I stepped inside, my heart clenched and cracked, it was tearing me up. 

The tears had stopped long ago, there was nothing more left to cry. I just needed to help, I think at some point I switched off, just to maintain some sanity, because before I knew it we were back in the beds of the trucks.

#band of brothers #hbo war #donald malarkey #band of brothers fanfic #easy company #joe toye #dick winters #bill guarnere #emily lane #babe hefferon #lewis nixon #joe liebgott

[the-mistholme-museum]

Okay so (sorry if you've answered this before, Tumblr isn't turning anything up, but the search function is notorioisly...nonfunctioning) I have a question.

I'm trying not to give many dire spoilers to anyone else new, but what are the 'proper' pronouns for the Queen's child? Do the fae even conceptualise them the same way/does it even matter to them? I noticed that Queen usually uses 'they' for their child, but also just kind of goes with the flow well enough, and uses 'he' sometimes when Guide is using 'he' to refer to him. (And, sidenote, I'm p sure they're always or almost always referred to as they themself too. I can't remember if anyone besides Guide refers to any of the other fae using pronouns and not just titles/nomikers, and Guide assumes Stranger is 'he', but is that correct? Or, again, is there even such a thing as 'correct' when it comes to the fae? Is this something they care about? Or, also, could it be something they purposely don't clarify and prefer the ambiguity, because the less people know for certain, well...the less people know! And the less they have over you! That does seem to be how they operate).

And Beast I'm pretty sure referred to them as 'he' a couple times soon after Guide said what ppl at Mistholme knew him as, but usually defaults back to 'she' still, because that's how he remembers his friend.

I'm just interested to know if there's an answer to this, I suppose, and if it will be brought to a conclusion in the show or purposely left ambiguous. I think either way is interesting, as from my questions above, I've been turning this around a lot.

Also, related: was the whole backstory of the Queen's child, with the pulling away from family and finding a place with Beast instead, and then going back only to basically take what they could (what was theirs) and leave again, stay estranged because of the expectations of them they didn't want, plus added in that Beast literally knew his close friend as a girl only for him to be known as a man later in life... was that Supposed to be a trans allegory at inception, or was that just a happy accident? I feel like it's too much to be accidental, but I thought I'd ask. I love it either way and was really taken in by Beast's arc, and I'm very interested to see how it pans out when (if?) they [Queen's child]

Sorry that was so long lol. I've just been bingeing the show the past few days whilst i was working on things and it's been on my mind a lot!

Hey, thanks for listening and also thinking so much about the show!

I've kept things a little ambiguous with regard to the Fae's concept of gender, because it allows for the conflict between the Queen and The Man to be about more than just one thing. It's about gender, but also parental expectations and finding yourself and whatever else it sparks inside you. The Fae are very different from us in a lot of ways, but also a lot like us in others, and that means the story can resonate with our experiences without being a direct allegory.

I was definitely thinking in terms of gender discovery and transness, but from the Queen's perspective we don't even really know if that's part of it at all for them. I wrote the Fae to have a different concept of gender to us because, well, why wouldn't they? And then I've left it a bit ambiguous because explaining everything about something can make it mundane, and I definitely don't ever want the alternatural to be mundane. In my head, the Queen is The Man's only "Parent", they just decided to have an heir and kind of... manifested one? Because that seems like something a Fairy Queen would do. But that's not really important to the narrative, so, no need to include it.

Pronouns for characters are:

Guide: It/Its

The Queen: They/Them

The Man: Tricky. The people in the Museum use He/Him, because that's what they've known him as this whole time and they've never been corrected. They don't know how The Fae relate to gender and they have bigger problems at this point.

The Queen uses They/Them, because The Man is more than just an individual- they're The Heir, they're not a person they're the future, and all of The Queen's expectations made manifest. Sometimes they've said He in front of the Guide, because the Guide has actually interacted with The Man far more recently than The Queen has, and they're like... going along with that? But they always default back to neutral terms.

The Beast still thinks of The Man as their friend, the person they were when they were both cubs. It's very stuck in the past, desperate for a return, and the complexity of the Fae isn't something it understands. Sometimes it uses He/Him, but it's not really sure what it all means.

Stranger: He/Him is probably fine? I think Stranger probably changes it on a whim to mess with people anyway lol.

#mistholme #mistholme spoilers #I hope that makes sense and isn't too rambling