#anyways if you listened all this way through my rambling youre so cool

[alottiegoingon]

golden rule

lucy maclean x gn!reader

summary: you become lucy's only friend in wasteland.

warnings: weapon usage/mentions, brief blood mention, wasteland and life outside the vault, lucy is naive and oblivious at first and a hot mess later, mostly just fluff, golden retriever lucy & black cat reader type of shit, kinda enemies/strangers to secret in lover with each other, reader is hot i wanna date them but also a loser if you see through them, no nsfw, not proofread

"just give it a thought, alright? we could help each other."

"why would i want you for a company? no offense, princess, but i don't associate with vault dwellers." you take a look at her from head to toes, studying the details in her jumper. despite how cool her pistol looked attached to her belt like that, the yellow and blue choice was kind of goofy, you thought.

you can see the excitement in her eyes disappearing as she hears you and you almost felt sorry for her. almost. "okay, ouch." she tilts her head, crossing her arms. in a second, her dramatic act gave place to a smug smile. "oh, i know! what if i help you to find the head?"

even your own bitterness left your soul as you hear her. you pause for a moment, searching for any sign of unseriousness in her face. maybe it was just a bad joke? but then, she keeps staring at you with those huge eyes and a not so subtle smile, proud of what she had said.

"i'm sorry, a head? you mean someone's head?" you frown. "i don't know what you vault people think of us but i'm not a monster." you weren't really offended, but seeing the panic in her face was actually princeless.

"what? no, no! i was just- everyone wants that head and i thought you-" she starts to ramble, not wanting to offend you. her beam went away as fast as it reached her face. you almost felt bad for her twice in a row now.

you couldn't hold yourself back anymore and allowed a smirk to creep onto your lips. she immediately stopped talking and, even though she exhaled relief, you knew that deep down she wanted to kill you but was too kind for that.

"oh. you were messing with me. funny." she gives you a forced dry laugh. it was actually annoying how she tried to be so nice all the time.

as a response, you give her a nonchalant wry smile. "anyway. i'm not looking for a dog right now, so..." you sigh, reaching for the heavy backpack on the floor and sliding it onto your shoulders. "but good luck with the head or whatever it means." you wink at the stranger and turn around to leave.

"wait! please." she grabs your wrist before you could take the first step and in response, you turn around again impatiently, glancing down at her tight grip on your skin. it takes her a while to realize that she's still holding you but as soon as she does, she immediately looks at your wrist as well and let go of it. "sorry." she whispers.

you were ready to interrupt her but, curiously, you felt bad when seeing how insanely desperate she was. it wouldn't hurt to just hear what the had to say, right?

"i've been having a rough week, okay? everyone i've met tried to kill me, except for you. a weird..." she pauses, thinking "robot, or whatever, tried to harvest my organs out and i had to cut someone's head off. and i may not be the strongest or the most experienced person but i can learn!" she was truly putting on her best show while you stood in front of her completely unbothered. at least, you liked to think that you were a complete fearless and tough person. "just... please?"

against all odds, you didn't deny it immediately. and, if you didn't deny it immediately, you knew what it meant. fuck, when did you become such a softie? it could be, of course, the way her hair looked pretty even in a messy ponytail or how the cut on her lip made her look so incredibly ho-

"okay, fine. whatever." that idiot creepy huge smile of hers spread on her face again before you could even finish. "listen up, i'm not done." you roll your eyes. "we'll do things my way, get it? you speak when i speak, you shoot when i shoot, you walk when i walk." you take steps closer to her while you talk. firm, hoarse and assertive tone. you stop when you feel the tip of her nose almost touching yours, keeping the steady the eye contact intact. you were so busy initimidating her that you don't even notice when she hold her breath.

"you are my shadow." you reach up for her face, cupping her chin with your thumb and index finger, forcing her to look back at you. "you don't exist unless i tell you to. do you understand me?" you stated with a piercing gaze.

you thought it was impossible for her eyes to get any bigger but when you step out of your scary platform, you notice her terrified expression. "okey dokey..." she nods frantically.

you gotta admit it. she didn't seem as goofy as before while paying attention to you so devotedly like that. even when still wearing that ridiculous jumper.

eventually, you realize that your eyes were betraying you by staring at her for a little too long. you clean your throat, trying to cover that up. "good. let's go now. we can't stay here forever." you step back and start to walk away, not even waiting for her to join you.

you hear her hasty footsteps getting closer as she tries to catch up to you until she finally shares your pace. "i'm lucy, by the way. lucy maclean." she held her head high, corners of her mouth going up again. god, she smiled a lot.

"good for you. i'm still gonna call you princess, though."

"not to brag, cause that would be impolite of me, but i found a really cool place when i was looking for a river this morning." lucy's smiling from ear to ear and excitedly rocking from side to side is the first thing you see when you open your eyes after a tough night of sleep.

a week had passed since you met lucy. no matter how tough you considered yourself to be, lucy was persistent, charming, sweet and funny enough to make her way to your heart and you knew that you were doomed. deep down, you were suspicious that she knew that as well.

"why are you always so happy?" you groan, rubbing your eyes. unlike lucy, you were not a morning person. or a night person. or any time of the day person.

"good morning to you too, sunshine!"

you are forced to get up, not being actually opposed to it, and take a short sip from your last water bottle. maybe taking a look at lucy's oh so great place would be useful.

"okay then. let's do it, princess." you use your hands to brush the remains of sand and dust out of your pants but lucy's cute giggle prevents you from heading out of the shelter you had found.

lucy approaches you with her usual polite and sweet grin and you unconsciously flinch as she stops just a few inches from you and touch you. predictable, she was gentle while brushing the top of your hair with her fingers, fixing the bundle of messy strands that merged together while you were sleeping and added a funny volume to your head. you follow every move of her with darting eyes and an uncontrollable urge to admire her green eyes focused on your hair and reddish parted lips.

"there you go. pretty as always." lucy coos and before withdrawing herself, her fingers slid down by a few inches and casually tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. for the first time in ages, you froze.

thankfully, lucy didn't seem to notice how affected you were by her innocent act. "thanks." you whispered in a ridiculously soft grin and followed her out of the shelter.

"why do you have a gun if you don't like using it? that's stupid." you tease lucy while you two walked side by side, following the train track to the place she had mentioned.

"i do use it. just when i have no other option. you know, because of the golden rule." she shrugs, proudly, proceeding to explain it to you.

you really tried to not care or call it dumb, but instead, you snorted in amusement. "you are way too naive, you know that?"

a dilapidated house.

lucy's incredible and cool place was nothing but a whole junk. everything was falling apart and, judging by how empty it was, many others were there before you.

"it looked cool from the outside..." she explains herself while scratching the back of her neck.

you were strong. firm. scary and ruthless even. you would shove a knife on anybody's throat if they wasted your time like that, especially after a terrible night of sleep. but, again, it wasn't anybody. it was her.

so, funny or not, you laughed.

"god, you are such a terrible explorer." you take a quick peek at her with the corner of your eyes, wearing an idiotic and foolish smirk on your lips.

"i am not!" her jaw drops and her voice sounds whinier as she defends herself but giggle along with you, not feeling scared to be vulnerable and fully stare at you.

you didn't have to answer to that. all you did was look back and forth at her and the house, proving your point.

"okay, you got me there." she looks down, dramatically pouting and pretending to feel so insulted. "but at least i made you smile. looks good on you." lucy's lips twitch in a shy grin.

"maybe i should smile more, then. if you like it." you boldly murmur, surprised at yourself for saying that. you could swear that lucy's face got almost entirely red but you didn't have enough time to appreciate it or figure if it was real.

"look at those cute lovebirds. love has returned to wasteland, gentlemen." a tall, sturdy middle-aged man mocks you to two other creepy looking guys. one was even missing an eye. in two seconds, you were able to count how many weapons they had and your first thought was the possibility of lucy getting hurt.

you quickly stood in front of her, shielding her from any kind of possible danger.

everthing happened too fast after that. all you remember is denying their offer to take your backpacks with the remains of food and water you had and all of your weapons.

everything went black for a second as your body hit the ground. you slowly manage to get on your knees and look around but lucy isn't there and you are trapped. you feel a sharp pain as you breathe in and a drop of blood hits your pants. you shudder at the moment you cautiously feel your cheek, warm to the touch and stinging like you were poked by a thousand needles. your fingertips carefully drop to your mouth and you hiss as you touch the wide cut on your swollen lower lip.

you notice the crisp click of the gun's trigger being released and you look up, expecting to see the weapon pointed at your head. instead, you see the men with their hands above their heads.

"get away from them!" lucy's voice fills your ears and you turn your head back to find her with a huge weapon in hands pointed at the strangers. she takes a quick glance at you and you see the anger inside her overflow as she notices your wounds.

"i'm gonna count to three and i want your ugly, filthy and miserable roaches out of my face or... or i'll shoot!" judging by her tone, you can easily notice how nervous she is even though she's trying her best to actually stand up for you.

and the thought of being protected by someone made your heart flutter. you weren't bothered by the aching pain in your lip when you found yourself proudly smiling at her.

the big guy seemed to notice the tension in her voice and took a step closer to you. you could only imagine how badly he had regretted that as soon as a loud bang echoed through the entire house and his foot was hanging by a thread, quite too literally.

"oh, golly..." lucy mutters with widen eyes. you follow her shock with a gasp that was completely muffled by the loud and agonized screech.

"don't make me repeat myself! all of you out, now!" she yells, threatening them by aiming the gun at them once more. "if that's okay with you, please." the scary expression in her face swiftly changed to a well-mannered and soft grin.

the injured men is rushedly dragged out by the other two, not looking back and you can not believe that someone as adorable looking as lucy was the one to broke her dear rule and hurt people.

"thank you! t-take care." she waves at them innocently, still with the gun in hands before running to you.

[gtgbabie0]

Drunk, but oh so in love.

{A drunk Spencer Reid is very affectionate, not that you're complaining.}

I love him sm it’s crazy, enjoy my lovelies!! 💕💕

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Quiet summer nights like this are always nice when the air isn’t too stuffy and the moon is high, accompanied by a nice breeze. You’re sitting on your sofa with a new colouring book on your lap as you colour away, partly paying attention to the random ocean documentary that was playing on the tv.

You enjoyed the serenity, although you were starting to miss Spencer since he had been stolen away from you by Derek Morgan, claiming that he and Spencer deserved a ‘boys' night’ after having a great week, he didn’t seem all that thrilled at the idea but Derek had a way of talking that made it impossible to say no.

You looked over to your phone, it was nearing midnight and just as you were about to turn away it rang, and you smiled when Spencer’s name showed up, vibrating a few times before you pressed down on the green button holding the device to your ear.

“Hey-” and before you could even get a whole sentence out you heard rustling from the other side of the line, along with a pair of voices arguing. Spencer and Derek.

“Kid- wait-”

“No give it to me, I wanna say hi-”

“You can’t- just-”

“Give me my phone Morgan-”

You heard Derek groan and then more shuffling. You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of the pair fighting for the phone.

“Hey sweetheart- sorry ‘bout that, Derek stole my phone, can you believe that?” You smile at the genuine disbelief in Spencer’s tone, and you can hear Derek say something about how he ‘didn’t steal it’ and a very long sigh.

“Anyway, I’m coming home now. I missed you, missed you a lot and I love you… so much” he says, and you practically hear the exhaustion that laces through his tone.

“I missed you too baby” you smile as you start to put away your colouring book, deciding you should also probably get him a change of clothes ready for when he returns.

“Missed you more, and your voice- god I can’t wait to come home I want- hey!” And before Spencer could inevitably embarrass himself, and you, Derek takes the phone from his hand with a frustrated huff holding him back with his arm as he talks to you.

“Your man had one too many, and he’s been asking for you nonstop for the past hour,” he tells you and the thought has your chest blooming with love, but then it daunts on you, a drunk Spencer who rambles about you without a care who’s listening, yeah you think you’ll worry about that a different day.

“Wonderful, you’ll call Hotch? because he’s not going to work tomorrow. ” You sigh, trying to keep a stern tone and Derek agrees with a chuckle and a ‘Yes ma’am' whilst still trying to keep Spencer at an arm's length as he fights for the phone and you can hear him in the background.

“Derek, Derek, Derek- tell her I love her. I love you, sweetheart!” You giggle as you say your goodbyes to a very exhausted-sounding Derek Morgan before hanging up the phone with a sigh, you were in for a very long night.

Which in all honesty was such an understatement as you try to help Spencer walk up a flight of stairs after he downright refused to take the elevator, something about a ‘terrifying experience’ that then had him drunkenly rambling off horrifying elevator accidents.

He leans all his weight onto your side as he tries to kiss you. Your arm wraps securely around him and at this point, you’re practically dragging him up the stairs and you start to deeply regret telling Derek you would be fine taking him back up to the apartment by yourself.

Eventually, by some miracle, you got him into the apartment, guiding him to take a seat at the table as you pour him some water. You plop a few ice cubes into the glass before placing the cool beverage on the table and you notice the way his eyes don’t leave you, he looks almost star-struck.

“Are you going to drink the water hmm?” You ask inching the glass closer to him, his eyes seem to glisten with admiration.

“You’re really pretty” he whispers as if it was a secret meant for only you to hear and you can’t help but giggle. You watch as his eyebrows knit together with an almost offended expression, “No, I’m being serious. It’s true you’re beautiful” and his words only make you chuckle all the more.

“Come on, drink up then we’ll go to bed,” you tell him, pushing the hair that frames his face and tucking it behind his ear. He smiles up at you as you press a gentle kiss to his forehead, hand resting on his cheek before you go and find him something more comfortable to wear.

Spencer practically downs the entire glass before clumsily jogging into the bedroom, tripping over air as he enters the dimly lit room with a small- ‘Crap!’

You gasp as you watch him fall forward and, luckily, onto the bed, “Sorry” he chuckles, sitting up as you walk over to him, “I just missed you” he suddenly stands up, his hands cupping either side of your jaw as he starts to pepper gentle kisses all over your face.

You try to push yourself away, telling him that you both should sleep as it’s nearing two in the morning but all attempts are fruitless.

“I love you so much” he smiles as his eyes study your face, “So so so much”

“I love you too Spence, now sit down before you hurt yourself,” you say and he presses one last final kiss to the tip of your nose, and with that, he finally sits back down on the bed as he starts to unbutton his shirt.

You turn to go and grab his PJs and by the time you face him his shirt is stuck halfway off his head and he lets out a frustrated groan as he tries to tug the shirt off with half the buttons still done up.

“Oh my- baby, stop. stop” you tell him moving his hands away as you start to undo the buttons and once he’s finally released from the confines of his uncomfortable button-up, you hand him an old Star Trek shirt and he happily pulls it over his head, his hair all tussled from the action.

“Thank you honey” he smiles as his hands settle against your hips, tugging you closer to him, his head resting against your stomach, “You know Derek was wrong,” he tells you matter-of-factly.

Your fingers brush through his hair, “About what hmm?” You ask, genuinely curious as to where this was going.

He looks up at you with an almost proud smirk, “I’ve got game” he says, pride bursting through his chest and he holds you a little closer.

You chuckle, “Well, I mean you wooed me so” you trail off, as he nods against you and you can tell by the look on his face that the exhaustion is creeping up on him.

“Yeah, and you’re- you’re just extraordinary, so I must be doing something right,” he says, and you would be lying if you said his words didn’t make you feel a little giddy.

You smile down at him before leaning to press a kiss to his hairline, “Put on these and I’ll go get you some more water, then we’ll go sleep, yeah?” you whisper handing him a pair of joggers because god knows the apparent gets unbelievably cold at night. And he nods watching with love-sick eyes as you walk out of the bedroom.

And sleep he does, but not before telling you he loves you about one hundred times, before he curls up against you with his leg thrown over yours, his hand splayed across your soft belly as he snores against your shoulder. And you prepare yourself to spend the day looking after a very hungover Spencer Reid, not that you’re complaining of course, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him.

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[xueyidweams]

rambling once again (aventurine x cat-person gn!reader) (this kind of pattern is what I’m talking about.) (read more bc this became quite long, sorry!!!)

Aventurine in his life of working for the IPC has come across a lot of stealers or kids trying to find their food for the day. he usually gives them some money and send them on their way. however, he really didn’t expect for someone to try and rob him in Penacony, in the dreamscape no less. Somehow he didn’t sense the man hurling himself towards him and grunted in surprise as he was pushed down, before he could even open his eyes the man was off of him and running away with claw marks all over him.

dumbfounded, he gets up and looks around, only to find two cat eyes staring at him… except they weren’t a cat… well.. half cat half person? He thought the species went extinct long ago. though, you were living proof of the opposite. you helped him sit up, he felt your claws brush against his knuckles and you felt the coolness of his rings on your paw-hand. observing his every move with utmost attention, your feline eyes following his every mimic and body movement.

“well thank you kind stranger—“ you accidentally cut him off as you smell him closely and realize who he is, he smells just like those bastards from the IPC! way too rich to be true smelling! your ears curl backwards and you pull yourself away hastily as you run away from him. He blinks as he sees you run, so fast… is this why the IPC hunts you all down like you’re all one of a kind? He yells after you, “Hey wait! just listen to me, please!“ you look back at him, your teeth snared and your pupils as slanted as they can be, “leave me alone IPC scum!”

you turn a few corners and your eyes widen in horror to see a dead end… what the hell, you know this place like the back of your hand! did they build this just now or have you been hanging in the unfinished part for way too long? the hairs on your tail stand up and your ears curl back as you hear his footsteps, taking a step back your back meets the wall with an oomph.

“Hey look— don’t be so hostile, we don’t have to be enemies. you can trust me.” yeah right. with those eyes? they’re unnervingly pretty and somehow frightening. your gut is telling you to run but your heart is hammering way too fast in your chest and the sound is drowning out his voice and you feel like everything you’ve had to endure to not fall into IPC’s slimy hands again has all been for nothing and—

you feel a hand on your arm, you look up and meet his eyes. then you feel the warm tears staining your cheeks, your tail hugs your leg as your ears droop, “look. please don’t give me up to them, i’ll literally do anything. do you want any dirty work done? i can do it! please just leave me alone, i don’t want to go back i can’t go back!” you see his eyes… soften somehow. to him, you’re a stark reminder of who he was, maybe still is. the way you fight so hard to protect the most precious thing to you, your freedom reminds him so much of the unsavory memories that he doesn’t notice he is squeezing your arm a bit hard and some of the fur is stuck on his rings. you flinch and grimace and he untangles your fur from his rings, he pulls his hands off of you.

he coughs in his hand and looks at you once more, voice softer yet firm. “im not going to hurt you or give you up. that’s not my job anyways. i just wanted to thank you, for helping even though it could put me in serious hot water. cats hate water right?” you half rolls your eyes at his teasing remark, “yeah yeah pretty boy, cough up some cash if you want to thank me. thanks for not turning me in but empty sentiments won’t feed me when i have to wake up from this dream.”

he smiles and takes off the ring from his index finger, he looks at you, “can i hold your hand?” you feel a slight warmness spreading through your face and squint your eyes, “fine but don’t try anything funny!” he chuckles and takes your hand in his gently, “wouldn’t dream of it.” he slips the ring on your ring finger, winking at you. “you can sell this for at least five hundred thousand credits, plenty to eat hm?” you look at your finger, the ring and at him as your heart does summersaults in your ribcage. you’ve never… even as a tease you’ve never been flirted with this is—

he takes advantage of your stupor and strokes your shoulder, squeezes slightly and gives you a smile. “you haven’t seen me and i haven’t seen you, yes?” you nod, speechless but thankful. he turns around and you finally get your voice back, “wait!” he looks back, his eyes watching you with interest. he raises his eyebrows, “thank you. i dont know what else to say but i’ll never forget this. and i wasnt’… joking when i said i could do your dirty work. so if you need something and i can get it done, i’ll do it free of charge.” you manage to tumble out as your voice trembles a bit, still shocked. his smile returns, “I’ll think about it, maybe fate will make us cross paths again huh?” he gives a little wave and starts walking, “oh also, do take care of your fur, it’s rather soft.”

you look dumbfounded, your face morphing from surprised to angry to flustered but he has already left. you look at your ring finger again and play with the ring, maybe the aeons have pitied you now?

‘he’s really pretty…’

you think to yourself as you pocket the ring and think of all the fish, meat and bread you’re gonna eat. and maybe you’ll try that soul glad thing.

[typing-catastrophe]

https://www.tumblr.com/typing-catastrophe/761175471448883200/ford-falling-for-youngerreader-and-writing-page

GRRRR I am frothing at the MOUTH I need that paranoid old man!!!!!

I think I specifically would make him a little crazy. Like.. Yeah, someone who also has PTSD and weird hands they might or might not be a little insecure about (I have a joint hypermobility disorder) just HAPPENS to show up, acts really nice to him, listens when he talks, takes interest in DD&MD with him, and thinks his sciencey shit is cool, and this has nothing to do with Bill, mind control, or succubi. SURE. Oh, AND their eyes are a little fucked up looking (disorder again)! He would not trust my ass

Anyway! I love your writing I want to gnaw on it like a dog with a bone

(anon talks about this post) aaahhhh thank you so much! i'm happy to hear u enjoy it ^^

ohh most definitely, what do you mean you like to listen to him ramble on and on about his interests without interrupting not even half way through, wanting to do something else? actually asking questions and wanting to hear more about his passions?? not thinking he's boring, or weird for taking in a liking in those things? the moment you ask if you can join him playing dd&md? he thinks he might actually have a stroke all that he could eventually get over, he thinks, but the fact that even physically you are suspiciously similar to him? get out. that paranoid old man might actually go insane if he thinks about you for too long

his trust issues would act up reeeal bad, but if you stick around for long enough he might calm down and open up. just have a little patience, he comes around eventually

he might fight his feelings for a while, at least until he is absolutely sure you won't just use him for your cause or turn on him and his family but once he accepts the fact that there really is someone as wonderful as you and that you like him (??? how?? he still isn't sure), he makes sure to show you just as much love as you show him. it takes a bit until he is fully comfortable and used to physical touch again, but he will take your hands in his, kiss them and makes sure you know that there is nothing to be insecure about. that you are wonderful and amazing and stunning just the way you are and deserve to not feel bad about yourself

once he accepts that he is in fact, head over heels for you, the tone of his notes in the journal shifts to a much softer one and he asks himself how he could've ever thought about you the way he once did (trauma. the answer is trauma. bill fucked him up bad)

[vonrov]

Hi hi!!! I’ve got an idea if you’re interested!!

So the reader is an avid literature fan, and they really love Poe’s novels!! One day they meet him and Poe is confronted with the prospect that….. maybe he doesn’t need to keep writing just to possibly stump Ranpo one day…. Maybe he’s already an incredible author deserving of praise,, :’)

^ if that makes sense lol, but I’m super excited to see where your blog goes anyway!! Following immediately <33

a fan?

・ Poe x GN!Reader { Fluff ・ Warnings { None ・ Word Count { 1.3K ・ Masterlist { LINK

It all started when he met a fan. A fan. Someone devoted to his work, someone who enjoyed and loved his writing. He could remember the day like it had just happened. The feeling of his cheeks growing warm, as the tips of his ears reddened with the praise he sought for every time he tried to stump Ranpo with one of his stories.

He also remembers the way he fumbled with his coat and undershirt as the person in front of him would gush and ramble about the different scenes he wrote, the different characters he poured his own attributes into, as well as the attributes he wished he had. He listened with shaky fingers and an anxious feeling bubbling in his chest as they brought up the dialogue he would spend his time reading aloud over and over again until it felt right.

It would be in his next novel, he wrote a character into the ongoing plot who reminded him of the devoted fan he had met out on a walk to gain inspiration.

And inspiration he found.

Inspiration he found in you.

Whenever he felt stumped with his hobby he went on a walk. Down the street, take a right, and pass by that cafe he was always too scared to go into because of how deadpanned the barista looked in the mornings. It was the same route he had met you. Every time he went out on one of his brainstorming walks, he hoped that the two of you would cross paths again.

And like fate intended, that would happen on a random Tuesday about a month later.

The air was fresh with summer approaching as the trees were green with branches full of leaves. A slight breeze flowed about the city, the only thing reminding Poe about his need for a summer wardrobe change soon, as it kept him just cool enough to enjoy his stroll. He walked with his head down, holding a leather-bound book in his hands as he watched his shoes land against the pavement with audible clicks.

“Karl would have loved this weather, it’s a shame he was napping when I left.” He spoke to no one in particular.

“Karl is your pet raccoon, right?”

“Yes, he’s-” His voice got caught in his throat.

He was too lost in his own musings to notice you were right next to him, about to enter the cafe he would usually pass on his walks, clad in a uniform he’d seen somewhere before. It was almost humorous how quickly his expression had gone from deadpanned, deep in thought, to a somewhat frightened look of ‘holy fucking shit’ in a matter of seconds.

He blinked owlishly at you as you just looked at him with a smile.

“Do you come here often?” You pointed at the cafe’s entrance, a crooked smile stretching across your lips as you tried to relieve the awkward tension.

“Uhm- No, not particularly.” Liar. Even though hes never entered the cafe, that doesn’t mean he hadn’t walked past it almost every day when the weather was nice enough for the past three weeks.

“The sugar cookies here are really nice.”

“O-Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” You looked at the cafe doors before turning back to him. “I’ll be considered “late” for my shift,” You made air quotes with your fingers. “If I don’t get in there in a few minutes.”

“Go ahead then, I’ll have to stop by sometime when I can…”

So that’s where he knew that uniform from. His gaze flew to the window as he bit his lip, avoiding eye contact with the deadpan barista who was definitely watching them through the glass. The uniform the barista wore behind the counter was the same as the one you were currently wearing. He looked back at you before speaking, his voice quiet with apprehension.

“Are you guys pet-friendly…?”

Once he had gotten confirmation that the cafe was pet-friendly, for service animals only, he rushed off with the promise of bringing Karl with him on his next visit.

…

It was the next day he walked down the once new path turned familiar with his animal companion in tow. The weather was much like the day before, minus the pleasant breeze. But the heat did not deter Poe as he briskly walked. His shoes hitting the concrete with a familiar clack. Excitement was rolling off of him in waves at the thought of being able to meet up with this devoted fan of his after waiting for a chance to do so for the past few weeks.

“How can I help you?” A monotone voice spoke.

He didn’t realize he was already in the cafe, standing at the counter, Karl on his shoulder, ready to say hello, only for the person at the front counter to not be you.

Instead, it was that blank-faced barista who was always off-putting to Poe whenever he walked by the big windows of the cafe. He could always feel their stare on him when he paced the sidewalks day by day. Only now, he could see the stare and was standing before them instead of walking past the glass.

Well fuck. That’s certainly a way to flip Poe’s switch from 'fine' to 'not fine'.

“Uhm…” He had to say something. Maybe order something? Yeah, that would be a great way to cover up his ignorance of his surroundings. Karl chirped on his shoulder as the raccoon’s tiny clawed hands patted his head. Poe watched in worry as the barista’s gaze went from himself to the raccoon on his shoulder.

“Please tell me that is a certified service animal.” The barista’s tone was unreadable as their eyes moved back to Poe’s.

“Oh- Y-Yes, he is certified. Let me just…” Poe dug around in his coat, unraveling a few yellow-tinted folded-up papers from the depths of his inside pockets. Unfolding the documents and turning them around for the barista to see. He pointed to a few different places on the papers, explaining how Karl is a 100% certified service animal. “He’s a psychiatric certified service animal for anxiety.”

“I didn’t know raccoons could do that.”

“Me neither…”

…

Thankfully, he managed not to embarrass himself further as he sat down with a warm drink that he didn’t remember the name of and a large sugar cookie. There had been other options of course, but you had recommended the sugar cookie for a reason right?

Karl had jumped from his shoulder and rested in his lap when he had sat down. Not wanting to disturb the raccoon peacefully resting in his lap, his gaze shifted about the interior of the cafe, his eyes scanning over the bright pops of color highlighting the various white tables. The turquoise accent wall behind the counter is adorned with diverse eccentric artwork. His focus was broken when the ring of the bells over the door alerted him.

And to his surprise, you had walked in.

While he was hoping to see you, he wasn’t expecting you to show up, assuming you had the day off when he was met with the other barista behind the counter instead of you. He watched as your head swiveled around, making you seem like you were looking for something- or perhaps, someone with how your face lit up when you saw him.

His assumption was further confirmed once you had started walking over to his table. His eyes followed you as you walked over, his head turning as you now stood in front of his table instead of behind him by the door.

“Is this seat taken?”

“No, not at all.” …

It took meeting a fan to realize something.

It took meeting a fan for him to realize that his novels impacted other people.

It took meeting a fan for him to realize, that maybe he didn’t need to write just to try and defeat Ranpo with another mystery novel.

Poe never even noticed his writing had even strayed from the mystery genre and played more with romance since writing in that new character about a month ago.

Authors Note: I actually cannot believe I managed to write all of those in one sitting. I genuinely think this is the first time I've been able to write over 1K words this easily. Whoever made it this far and is reading this, I need to know your thoughts on this.

I really loved writing this. My first time writing with Poe and while I was writing I decided to headcanon that Karl is a service animal because it makes sense. I hope I nailed his character and it isn't occ. There was something else I was gonna say but I cannot remember, it is 11:33 PM and I've worked on this for at least the past 2-3 hours and I gotta get up in the morning.

Comments and reblogs that tell me what you guys liked or little things that you noticed makes my day. My inbox is still open for recommendations, please check out my pinned post before you drop in though.

[moonlight-prose]

HURT

➝ 05. MIDNIGHT DOVE

a/n: i never thought it would take a year to finally work up the courage to finish this. i swear it's been marinating in my mind for months. life got in the way as it always does, and well shit happens, but i am gradually attempting to return to this world. if you're new here, welcome. if you're someone who has been here since the beginning, then thank you for sticking my horrible productivity out. i swear i won't disappear again. hopefully.

dedicated to: @themarcusmoreno for being an absolute badass fighter as of late. i hope you know how proud i am of you babes and how much i adore you. a special thanks to @sunflowersteves who has been a MASSIVE supporter of this story. i love you babes! and to @soulores who has listened to me ramble about this fic for hours in the hopes inspo would strike again. te amo te amo te amo!!!

summary: joel never made opening himself up to the prospect of love easy, but when it came to you...it felt like taking a breath of fresh air for the first time in years.

word count: 14k+ (i'm fucking insane)

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, cussing, fluff, joel attempting to be romantic, ptsd, grief, deep talks (joel opens up), joel finally telling the truth, p in v sex, choking kind of, roughness, biting lots of biting (both kinds hahaha), tad bit of violence, the dangers of falling in love.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

It was easy to forget how damaged you were in the midst of his affection. An effortless act to allow yourself a chance to heal as you gave yourself over to him. For brief moments, you weren’t the person who had gone through years of pain, suffered through grief so potent you could taste it. You were the person who could sink into his hold, lose yourself in his touch, and simply exist.

With Joel there was no pain, no reminders of what you didn’t have—what you could never get back—because he took all that away. He gave you the one thing you didn’t know you were searching for. Yourself. In whispered words beneath the midnight sky, you found the reflection you’d been so afraid to look at. You saw the person who had been torn apart by the brutality of this world, by the prospect of death you could no longer run from.

He pieced you back together with his hands, attempting to rid you of all those cracks and crevices where pain seeped out from.

And in doing so, he saved you.

“You used to be a contractor right?” you asked, trying not to huff and puff as you trailed after him through the woods.

Briefly you thought you caught the sight of tall buildings in the distance, but played it off as the sun messing with your eyes again. A few days ago the truck broke down, ruining the quick pace of travel you had gotten used to. Which left you both with one option. Walking until your feet were numb and bloody. You hadn’t missed the energy this took, suddenly yearning for trains and planes—anyway to get to Boston as quickly as possible.

Except you didn’t hate it entirely. The bonus was being able to spend more time with him in secluded areas. You liked studying him by firelight, talking with him underneath the stars. Joel was the one who kept you going in spite of the agonizing effort this took. Thankfully the moments you did run into any infected were brief and quick—simply another crack in the bubble you’d built around yourselves.

Something had shifted between the two of you. Changed the tides of your futures and gave you insight into what might be possible once you got to Boston. You saw hints of a life that you might not have seen before. A future with him. You only hoped that he was seeing the same picture you were.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pausing to let you catch up, his hand reaching for yours.

“Impressive,” you said with a smile, pressing your chin on his shoulder as he leaned against a tree. Giving the both of you a small breather before you started up again.

“It paid the bills.”

“Well yeah. But it’s also a cool job. Getting to build things.”

He grinned, his eyes tracing the shapes and contours of your face. “I guess it was.”

“What made you want to be a contractor?” You caught the way he paused at your question, his eyes unable to meet yours for a brief moment. Joel thought he was able to hide his pain so well, behind an impenetrable mask he never removed. But you saw it.

You were the only one who split it down the middle; revealing the man beneath for your eyes to see.

“Uh,” he mumbled. “It was good work. Kept me stable.”

“Joel? Did I say something?”

He shook his head. “We should keep going,” he said, pressing a light kiss to your temple, his lips lingering a bit longer than usual.

Any other person would play that off as Joel being Joel. Yet you felt the tremor in his chest when he took in a breath. You saw the way he placed another brick in his never-ending wall. One that he didn’t want you to break. Frowning slightly, you walked beside him, glancing to see if he would finally revert back to the man from moments ago, but he was lost to the ravages of his mind.

You knew it would take awhile for him to come back to you. So, you waited. You lost yourself in your own thoughts, watching the birds fly through the trees, the sun peeking through the branches and bathing you in warmth. Thankfully the cold was starting to fade with each passing day. Giving way to the weather you liked most. You wanted to ask Joel where you were—which state you crossed into—but he was still gone.

Reliving the moment he hadn’t told you about yet.

You stopped when the forest gave way to a road and finally caught sight of what was in the distance. Only to realize…the sun hadn’t been playing tricks on you.

Skyscrapers stood tall against the sky, the cityscape so famous and iconic you could pick it out from memory. It was ruined from the past, some buildings had fallen from the decay, but you felt your heart flutter nonetheless. New York City. You’d been traveling through the state this whole time and never knew. Your younger self ached in the back of your mind; the one place you had been striving to get to, now arriving too late.

Yet still…you were there. Staring at what could have been your future once upon a time.

“We’re in New York,” you said, your voice tinged in disbelief. 

Joel seemed to have been brought back by your stunned reaction, his lips pulling up into a small smirk. “Thought you would have liked to take this way.”

You whirled around to face him, your eyes wide with surprise. “But what about infected? Won’t they be—”

“They bombed most of the city when the infection hit. Took out the worst parts first.” He pointed to the direction of where you assumed the Empire State building once stood. “No one has been here for nearly a decade. They tried to have a QZ on the outskirts at one point I think.”

“And how did that go?” Although you already knew the answer. Simply another repeat of every major city in this country.

He sighed. “They wound up bombing that too.”

“So we’re going around?” you asked, knowing that the only safe possibility was skirting the edges of the city. But a part of you hoped that for once you and Joel could pretend to be normal humans again.

People who at one point in their lives…might have taken a trip to New York City.

“Well…” His hesitation caught your attention. “We’re gonna go around as much as we can, but there’s somethin’ there that still survived all this. So if we’re careful. Then it should be alright.”

You felt the breath catch in your chest. A sliver of hope flickering warm and bright through your body. “And if it’s not…alright?”

“Then we handle it,” he replied, his hand shifting to cup your cheek, thumb running along your skin. “Like we always do.” Those words alone nearly made those three words slip free from your mouth. “What do you say Boston,” he murmured, his head dipping down—lips brushing along yours. “Wanna take a trip to New York with me?”

There were infected everywhere you went, never being able to escape them entirely. That alone weighed your answer towards it being positive. Still you were wary about what could happen. What could go wrong in the midst of your happiness? It seemed that life never changed when things were already awful. The worst only hit when you were finally at peace, content with what you had.

You should have said no, should have told him it wasn’t safe, but his brown eyes held a hopeful glint in them. A look that you recognized. For the first time, the both of you were finally starting to heal from the horrid effects of this life. It was a tragedy that would never be written down. A play not yet finished.

Which ultimately made the decision for you.

How did you want things to end? With a smile on your face, spending time with the man you loved? Or alone.

“Lead the way Texas,” you said softly, dropping your forehead to his chest, feeling him kiss your head softly before he pulled away.

The trip to get into the city would take a day or two, which meant that you had to set up camp for the night. At least until the sun rose enough to guide you. Venturing back into the forest with him, you felt the lightness in your heart spread down throughout your body. A sensation that you longed to hold onto.

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d been this happy; the feeling almost effortless amidst the pain and destruction of your past. It nearly overflowed, spilling out into the area around you filled with never ending darkness. Joel’s footsteps were heavy against the fallen leaves. As if he was no longer afraid to make noise. Now that the path was clear, his head focused on one direction, you by his side.

Things had shifted drastically since that night. Since you watched a piece of his walls crash to the ground. Giving you a chance to finally see the man he had once been. The Joel you had only met in fragments—memories you weren’t a part of.

A past that you’d never fully know.

“This is as good a place as any,” he said, dropping the bag off his shoulders and onto the ground beside a tree.

“Should I gather wood?” you asked, following his movements—the routine burned into your mind.

He shook his head. “Not tonight. We’re too close to the city.”

“You don’t think people are insane enough to live there, do you?”

The silence he offered was enough of an answer. Even though you were both far enough away from any signs of life, it still wasn’t safe to assume you were entirely free. You could see Joel grappling with the decision to even go down there, but you knew which side would win the war in the end. One side told him to avoid the place altogether, to keep trekking on until you reached the QZ in Boston. But the other whispered something different.

It beckoned him closer, promising something sweet, a reprieve from the terrors of life that continued to plague both of you. Whatever still remained in that city was enough for him to choose the latter.

“I’ll keep first watch,” he murmured, settling with his back to a tree, rifle placed across his thighs.

“Joel.”

He shook his head. “You need to sleep.”

“So do you,” you replied, in the hopes that he’d relent to you as he had before.

The dark lines beneath his eyes grew with every passing day and you wondered what kept him from sleep. Was it nightmares? The prospect of death around every corner? They were things that were enough to send terror running sharply down your spine, but as long as you’d known Joel he seemed to simply take those things in stride. Refusing to give life the satisfaction of watching him crumble beneath the strain.

Yet now he looked half dead; tired of fighting an infinite battle of fear.

“Come here,” you said softly, hand gripping onto his.

“Darlin’—”

“If you don’t sleep then, so help me Joel I will stay up with you.”

The threat held enough truth in it to spur him into action. You would stay up with him until dawn crested over the city, until you could no longer keep your eyes open. Joel had stamina you didn’t possess. Not anymore. So, he allowed you to guide him forward, his head resting on his pack, rifle placed between your bodies. A safety measure in case the night turned for the worst.

“Shut your eyes,” you murmured, seeing the tension in his body melt away the second your hand pressed to his chest.

He huffed—ever the stubborn man who saved your life—but relented without a fight, his eyes fluttering shut quickly followed by a long exhale. The stars were brighter than you’d seen them; the light pollution of the city, no longer a problem the sky had to combat. So, you shifted, rested your head on his shoulder and watched the stars twinkle in a night sky free from the shackles of humanity.

“You’re supposed to sleep too,” he grumbled, his hand coming up to cover yours, thumb running along your wrist.

“I am.” You smiled at his audible snort.

Silence enveloped the two of you, but it never felt off putting in his presence. In fact you began to welcome it, because with Joel there was always more than just words. His thumb continued to go across your skin, creating a soothing rhythm that lulled you into a docile state. If you shut your eyes and focused on the beat of his heart—the rise and fall of his chest with each breath—you might be able to fall asleep. Except your mind still ran, still on high alert in case of something going wrong.

“Hey,” he mumbled, his head turning slightly until his nose brushed against yours.

“Hm?” You felt your heart skip at the sight of his eyes opening again, the deep brown hue pulling you in.

“What’s goin’ on in there?” he whispered. Joel didn’t need to go into specifics to know what he meant by that. You seemed to pick it up just by the inflection of his words—the tone he used when he spoke. This was no different.

You sighed, wishing more than anything that you could strip your shoulders of the weight they carried. “Nothing. I’m just…it’s nothing.”

“It ain’t nothin’.”

“I’m just…scared,” you said, finally showing a sliver of the truth. He hummed, attempting to show that he understood where you were coming from. “What happens when we get to Boston?”

Because that’s where that gnawing feeling stemmed from. It wasn’t your fear of death, or the terror you felt whenever you thought of Joel dying. No, you were scared of what the future held—what came when this trip finally came to an end. You didn’t want to let him go after everything you’d endured together. For the first time you felt like you found the one thing anyone could hope for in life. A partnership.

He sighed. “We keep going.”

“Together?” There you were laying your hope in front of him, wanting him to give you the answer you longed for.

“Yes,” he replied, watching a smile cross your face—his heart beating a bit faster at the sight. It lit him up on the inside. As if someone injected him with a heaping dose of pure sunlight, claiming it would fix all his broken pieces. Save him from hell.

For a moment you simply watched him, seeing an array of emotions flicker through his eyes. You wanted the night to remain endless. For you and Joel to stay there until the stars burned out above—a safe place with no responsibilities. No fear of death. But you knew eventually you would have to get up and follow him into the city. Boston remained right at the very tips of your fingers, yet getting there felt like a million miles away.

“Joel?” you breathed, bringing him out of his mind and back to the present day.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me something.” You clutched his hand in yours, enjoying the warmth that emanated from his skin. “Anything.”

He turned away, looking up at the sky as he processed your words. And you waited patiently. You found that you’d wait for him no matter how long it took, because it was him and to you…he was everything. He was worth fighting for, worth staying put for. He let out a shaky breath, his grip tightening on your palm until pain sparked in your wrist. You didn’t dare pull away though, too captured by the vulnerability that began to show on his face.

For the first time, he was the glass you couldn’t break.

“I had a daughter,” he said softly, still watching how the stars flickered above rather than the way your face went slack with shock. “Sarah.”

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes falling to the broken watch on his wrist as tears began to fall from your eyes. That night when you asked about it—watched him close up right before your very eyes—suddenly made sense. Why he never took it off, why it was the most precious thing to him.

It was from her.

“She was…well she is the best damn thing in my life.” He shut his eyes, his eyes stinging with the tears that couldn’t fall. You didn’t dare interrupt him. Joel was baring the part he’d hidden long ago—offering it to you in the hopes that you’d take care of it. “Had the prettiest smile and the best—” He took in a breath. “The best fuckin’ laugh you’d ever heard. Made everyone else laugh.”

You smiled, feeling your tears fall onto his shirt. “She sounds amazing.”

“She is,” he rasped, his hand pulling yours up higher on his chest until you could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingers. “On the night of the outbreak. We were tryin’ to get out. But something…” His voice broke, eyes squeezing even tighter. “I couldn’t—and she—”

“Oh Joel,” you whispered, your eyes falling shut as his pain seeped into your heart. It made your whole body scream out and for a moment you wondered how his heart never stopped beating. How had he survived such anguish? How was he still here?

You bit back the sob that threatened to spill free and buried your face into his shoulder, clutching onto his hand to show that you were here. That he could give you this pain to hold and you’d bear it for him for however long he needed. His face turned, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he let the words hang in the air. What more needed to be said? When he had just ripped down the last of his walls.

“I’m so sorry.” The words were a breath on his cheek and you knew they wouldn’t take away any amount of grief. You knew they were simply a band-aid to the gaping wound that would never heal.

He didn’t reply; you didn’t expect him to. So you allowed the silence to fill the air between you, covering you like a comforting blanket. Hiding you from the world until the sun came up. Joel pulled you closer until you practically lay atop his chest, the steady thud of his broken heart echoing beneath your ear. The world had taken so much from him—turned him hopeless—you just never knew the extent of it.

Staring into the darkness of the trees you heard him begin to snore softly, his body now lax beneath you. Except you didn’t move. You remained in the same spot, watching as the world turned a bit darker. The hope seeped out of your body bit by bit now that you understood how much Joel carried—how much he endured.

“I love you,” you breathed, pressing a kiss over his heart, finally shutting your eyes and giving into the soft embrace of sleep.

You woke up to find him gone, his jacket placed strategically over your body to keep you protected from the early morning cold. What you wouldn’t give for a fire to combat the chill that began to seep into your skin. Sitting up slowly, you attempted to catch sight of him through the trees—hoping that he had wandered a bit. But you were left alone with just your pack and his extra gun.

Scenarios began to run through your mind, panic settling in your veins, but you fought against it. You’d been here before. Alone while Joel went off to do who knows what. You knew he would come back—that was a given—but you couldn’t stop the worry from eating at you.

You watched your breath collect in the air as you moved, gathering pieces of wood and rocks to build a fire for a short amount of time. If you were moving today it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to warm up and gain some strength through food. If Joel wasn’t back within the hour you would go out hunting. He’d been generous enough to leave you with a few bullets still in the chamber of his gun.

Which meant he had full intentions of coming back.

The fire sparked quicker than you expected, catching on the brush you packed around the wood and sending heat up towards your face. You couldn’t burn it for long, in case people caught sight of the smoke. Which meant you had to relish in the heat for as long as possible—the stiffness in your body dissipating the longer you sat there.

You watched the orange glow flicker across the wood, consuming it entirely and found you couldn’t tear your eyes away. The sight was familiar—as if you could feel it against your skin with every passing day. Life burned through you with swift brutality and for that mere moment you wondered if it would hurt if you fully sunk into it. Allowed it to destroy you as the flame did the wood that now sat cracked into two pieces—the charred bark falling onto the ground.

A rustling echoed behind you, making you reach for the gun, but the sight of Joel’s graying hair peeking through the woods sent relief flooding through your body. He carried a rabbit in one hand, clutching onto the rifle with the other, and you felt yourself relax just a bit more. Body sinking back into the spot you’d made, legs crossed and hands hovering over the flames.

“Breakfast?” he asked, crouching beside you.

“Don’t mind if I do.” You grinned, pressing your chin against his shoulder briefly, soaking up the warmth of his body.

You couldn’t see his face, but you could feel the smile being pressed against your temple. His lips a soft brush across your skin. If time was kind, you’d be able to stay there. Sitting in the comfort of his presence—the worry that plagued you now pushed to the very back of your mind. It was rare to feel this okay in the comfort of someone else, but Joel made it easy. You wanted to thank him for simply being here, but the words were stuck in your head. Unable to be released.

“How long until we go?” you asked, watching as he cooked the animal over the flames, your stomach clenching painfully.

“Soon as we’re done here.”

The trip into the city wasn’t by any means safe. In fact you were certain it was the most dangerous thing you would attempt in your journey to the Boston QZ. For so long you’d played it safe, but Joel had plans and you would follow his lead wherever he went.

Perhaps it was ridiculous to say you loved him now. In a world where the small hints of anything good were smothered before they could bloom into something more. Except you couldn’t deny what your heart knew was true—what it had been holding onto for months. You loved him. Possibly more than you could ever love someone, and that’s what scared you. Sent a sick feeling into your stomach, your heart twisting violently in your chest at the thought.

Traveling through the city was lethal—a death sentence—but you soon realized it wasn’t the most dangerous thing you could do.

Falling in love in a world intent on destruction was the true risk. Because whether you liked it or not, your entire life could come crashing down in an instant if you lost the man beside you.

Joel was your oxygen. The sole reason you were still alive. You couldn’t lose him.

You both ate in silence, an act that had become sacred to you as time went on. Just a small piece of normalcy that remained—something to remember your old lives by. While you couldn’t necessarily sit at a table and savor the meal. Both of you were content with this. A small amount of peace before chaos ensued once more.

The city called to you—beckoned you closer—and you had to be careful not to give in. There was an unspoken rule in all the traveling you’d had with one another. Joel was the leader in this situation and you were to follow what he said; after all he was simply trying to keep the both of you alive. So you did just that. You waited for him to finish eating and explain exactly how this was going to go down.

“You know…” You picked at the grass beneath you. “I’ve been thinking about what comes next.”

His eyes raised to meet your gaze—the once hardened stare now softened to something you now knew to be familiar. A look he only carried when he was around you. You felt something tug at your chest, warm and inviting.

“I want a home,” you said softly, twirling a dandelion between your fingers. “If that’s a possibility.”

The corners of his lips pulled upwards and you nearly missed the sight. But once you caught it…you couldn’t look away. Joel smiling was a rarity—this you knew to be a hard fact—but when he did the world lit up around him. His smile felt safe. As if he kept every ounce of love given to him in that single look.

“Could be a possibility,” he replied, shifting to where his arm was behind you—his weight leaning on it. “Got a place in mind?”

Heat bloomed beneath your cheeks, small petals of the dandelion flying off. “Nothing too fancy. Big enough for us and…well…it has to be just right.”

Perhaps your mind was playing a trick on you, creating fantastical sights that felt too good to be true, but Joel's smile deepened. A soft light entered his eyes for a brief moment, effectively stealing the breath right from your lungs. He was so beautiful when he smiled. As if he was gifted with it from the gods themselves—his own secret power at the end of the day.

"A house huh."

You nodded, still stunned in place as his smile remained intact. "I miss having a home."

Five words. That's all it took for light to be extinguished like a flame being put out. Sorrow seeped back into his face, his smile faltered, and you felt the world shift beneath your feet. Whatever you said triggered something in his mind. It dragged the memory to the front and forced him to watch with no escape. You know...because you'd been in his place before; you had been a victim to the horror of your own life, privy to the movie that never had an end.

The difference was with Joel you could do nothing but watch.

There was no pulling him out of it, no distracting him, because the memory had already started. So you sat in silence, waiting for it to run its course. Until Joel returned back to you. His smile was gone, face grim once more, and grief stained his soul. But you'd take him any way he was. You'd take him damaged and ruined beyond repair, as he would with you.

"We should get moving soon," he said, voice lower than before, eyes glassy with tears that would never fall.

You let out a breath as your heart sank deeper in your chest. "I'll put out the fire."

He didn't question you or even try to stop you. He simply let you do what you thought was best. Gathering his jacket and gun, he helped you to your feet, the furrow between his brows now set back in place. For a moment...he looked younger than his actual age. A man from the past peeked out, but nothing stayed the same for long.

Nothing good ever stuck.

"Once we get to the edge of the city we'll be out in the open for anyone to see." He slung his pack over his shoulder, handing you a knife to stick in your pocket as an extra precaution for what was to come. "You know I only have one rule darlin'."

Now felt like the perfect time to make a joke—to bring back his smile—but the serious tone of his voice lingered in the air. A reminder that you may be able to take care of yourself on your own, but traveling with Joel now meant you had his life to worry about too.

That alone was something you couldn't risk.

"Follow your lead."

He nodded. "We should be alright, but just in case stick close."

"I will." The idea that you'd stray far from him was ridiculous and he knew it, but the words had to be said. For his own peace of mind.

Somewhere in the middle of the trees there remained an old hiking path. A memoriam of the years that came before, and yet you couldn't picture tourists taking this road. Not even their footprints would survive twenty years of nature. No, this small but distinct path was carved by people traveling towards Boston. You liked to imagine that they made it eventually; that their lives went on in the QZ without issue. But reality always held a harsher reflection than you expected.

Twigs snapped beneath your boots as you trailed beside Joel, eyes set on what remained of the city skyline. Proof that humanity once lived on this planet.

"They'll be deeper inside the city lines," Joel said, dragging your attention away from the ruin. "It's likely there ain't been people for years. But we can’t be sure."

"No reason for activity then?"

He sighed, squinting his eyes against the blaring sunlight. "I'm not sayin' there'll be less. But we might not encounter them much if we’re lucky."

A small amount of relief spread through your chest, pushing against the constant fear that ate at your heart. Devouring it as if you were the meal it had been waiting for. A delicacy of the human body.

"Better than nothing."

He made a noise of agreement, taking the lead and heading deeper into the woods. Eventually they would become sparse, giving the both of you less coverage, until they disappeared altogether. Two decades was plenty of time for nature to reclaim parts of the city, but the cement and stone still remained. A permanent fixture of what used to be in front of you.

The city that used to never sleep, now forced to rest forever.

In the distance you swore you could hear the now familiar screech that haunted your dreams. But it was too far out for you to make out. So you followed Joel, the sun beating down on both of you even through the trees. Sweat stuck to the back of your neck, your fingers slippery on the trigger of your gun. And you both walked in silence—focused on your surroundings. Too anxious to even allow yourselves to whisper.

Yet with Joel it never felt like you were losing time.

How could you? When he was giving back what you lost.

No one else would do this. No one would bother to make sure that you got a chance to visit the city you dreamed about, the place where your future was supposed to be. But he would.

Joel would have given you the sun if you asked him to—if only to see you smile.

Your words from last night continued to rise to the surface, placing themselves on the tip of your tongue, and begging you to open your mouth. Yet as much as you wanted to stand atop the tallest building in the city and shout it from the top of your lungs, you knew you couldn't.

Those words remained hidden in your chest like a wound that could never truly heal. A gaping hole that forced you to bleed out each time you acknowledged its presence.

The sad part was that Joel wasn't the one to rip it open. He was simply someone who managed to stir it awake. He brought it to life with just one look. You started bleeding years ago with loss after loss, until eventually...you stopped trying to close it up with cheap booze and an even cheaper version of what you ached for.

What you needed to sustain you.

"You never told me," Joel said abruptly, shutting down those thoughts within seconds. "About your life."

You smiled despite the effort and lack of breath. "There's not much to tell."

"I doubt that darlin'." He fell into step with you, his hand brushing across yours gently, but even you knew holding hands wasn't a luxury you could afford right now. Not when you'd have to run at a moment's notice. "What was college like?"

Scoffing, you adjusted the strap of your pack. "Parties, hangovers, and lots of coffee."

"Sounds 'bout right."

"Why Joel Miller. Don't tell me you went to college."

He leaned into you, his shoulder hitting yours with enough force to throw you slightly off course. "I didn't. My brother Tommy did. Well...he enrolled."

"Ah yes. The infamous Miller," you joked, grabbing onto his arm to steady yourself.

He snorted, wrapping it around your waist instead. "I wouldn't call him that."

"Then tell me about him."

His eyes met yours, grief still pressing against the light that once was there, but you could see something else linger below. A sense of joy that only came when talking about his younger sibling. A relief that he had family still alive, still around for him to worry about. You knew the fear remained that one day...he might not have that person to worry about, that the world would remain just as cruel as before.

That thought hit you harder than you would have liked—the face of your own brother flashing in your mind. You couldn't save him. Shit, you barely even knew if he was still alive or dead. And that in itself was a different type of grief; a horror you wouldn't wish on anyone.

Least of all Joel.

"He was in the army."

A fallen tree came into view, blocking the path. Joel climbed over it first, grunting as he jumped down, his feet slamming hard when he landed. He took your hand as you went next, helping you go softer than him, checking with a glance to make sure you hadn't snagged yourself on the split wood.

You recall your own brother enlisting, although your mother used to claim you were too young to remember the day he left. But you could make out the hazy images of tear filled goodbyes and hugs that lasted longer than normal. He joined to find purpose. You understood that now.

"Nearly gave our parents a heart attack when he came home with the news." Joel huffed, his hand still clasped tightly around yours. "But Tommy was eighteen. And damn stubborn."

You tried to picture the other Miller as you did when Joel first mentioned him, yet still came up blank. They must look alike. Maybe the same nose, or jaw. No matter how hard you tried though, you could see nothing but a faceless man—a blank slate to the one Joel spoke of so fondly.

"He's younger than you?"

Joel nodded. "By a few years."

The thought of Joel trying to be a good role model for his brother made you smile. You wondered if they ever got into trouble together, if there were stories he might tell you one day when you finally found a safe place to live.

"So...he was the troublemaker of the family."

His gaze slid over to you, eyebrow arching slightly in faux surprise. "I wouldn't say that."

You grinned. “Let me guess…” Joel’s hand tightened around yours. “You were the responsible brother.”

“I had to be.”

“He sounds fun. Maybe I should have met him first.” Glancing to your side, you didn’t see as his face darkened. A look of something wild crossed his face, the painful grip on your hand bringing you back as he yanked you forward. “Joel—”

Unexpected. That is what you continued to feel each time Joel kissed you. Unexpected in his action, unexpected in the feelings he buried beneath the rubble of his heart. You felt yourself stumble into his chest, his lips sliding against your roughly, as he gave into that wild unknown sensation.

A hunger that consumed him quickly. Larger than anything he’d known before.

He exhaled, pulling away with reluctance, and you nearly moved forward to take back that fleeting euphoria. His thumb and forefinger pinching your chin lightly kept you in place. Until you opened your eyes—catching his gaze. Want burned in his iris—turning the deep brown a shade of black—but something darker peeked out, a possessive glint. A promise that you were his.

“Trust me darlin’,” he murmured, lips pulling up into a small grin. Your stomach fluttered rapidly at the sight of his eyes sliding down to your lips—his tongue running along his bottom lip. You wanted it in your mouth. “You’ve got the better brother.”

That remained clear the second you met him. But the tease still lingered in the air. A hint of irritation plucked at Joel’s heart as he thought about you and Tommy instead. If there’s one thing he knew it was this: Tommy would make you laugh as often as possible. He wouldn’t quit until he saw joy overtake the grief on your face. But something told him you needed more than humor.

Even as you looked at him like that—eyes soft and hazy with need—he still felt the innate need to prove himself. To show that he was it for you; that no matter what happened next, Joel was going to be yours.

His face darkened and you longed to peel away the layers of murkiness that hid his true feelings.

But that was the thing about Joel. He’d never show you outright what he kept beneath the surface—not unless he was telling you himself.

His hand took yours again, a small kiss pressed to your temple as he started walking. Towards a future so tangible you could almost feel it between your fingertips. How it ebbed and flowed despite the endless mountain ridges you were yet to traverse.

There was no telling where it dropped off. Where this future finally settled, but regardless of what happened, you’d remain. You would choose Joel over and over again, even if this path led to your death. As long as he was safe—as long as he survived. To you Joel was the only thing you could save—having given up on yourself years ago.

You were two broken souls, but given the chance, you’d piece him back together.

You could see that the path veered back towards the forest, probably to some old forgotten campgrounds. A part of you nearly asked him to head that way, but you stopped before you started. The realization dawned on you quicker than you would have liked. How many people never made it home? How many lost parts of humanity still remained in a place meant solely for joy?

A cold unsettling feeling burrowed its way into your stomach, nausea rising quickly to the surface. Everywhere you looked, death stared back with an empty gaze.

A promise already embedded too deep to remove.

This is how it was always meant to go. This is where it would always lead to.

Joel couldn’t see the terror stricken expression across your face. You were in too deep to ask him for a rescue anyways. So you simply remained. Entrenched in the thick darkness. Yet your feet still moved, your body still complied. He led you closer and closer to the outskirts of the city. And where you expected fear to arise, you found nothing but numbness.

An echo of pain that called out to you. How could you fear what you already knew? The infected were no longer the embodiment of your worst horror come to life.

No, that title now belonged to the man holding your hand so gently in his. Squeezing every few minutes in an act of unconscious reassurance. His fate, his life, it all twisted together until you could barely catch your breath.

He turned to glance at you over his shoulder, his lips curving into a soft smile, the lines around his eyes deeper than before. You nearly gasped as you were yanked out of the darkness, warm air brushing across your face. For those few seconds you felt the sunlight against your face. The worries melted away and this is what you were left with.

Pure broken love.

“Tired?” he asked, oblivious to the way you were drowning.

You grinned, moving closer. “Not really.”

“We got a few more hours.”

Perfect.

You didn’t say it aloud, but you could see the sentiment was reflected back in his eyes. He wanted this as much as you. Where the world only existed in time spent alone. Where nothing could harm you here in your infinite haven with him.

Returning his smile, you squeezed his hand softly, doing what you could to burn the feel of his calloused skin into your mind. Whether it took a few hours or a few days, you didn’t mind. As long as it was with him.

Silence.

That’s all you heard throughout a city once plagued by noise. Where thousands of people used to live—creating the hustle and bustle of the city that used to never rest, now an echoey hollowness remained. At last…the city was asleep. And you hated it.

Life should spill out of every crack and crevice of this place, but there was nothing. You felt as if you should grieve for what once was, but no emotions rose to the surface. Instead you were faced with a bottomless pit of something that once existed.

Joel’s hand was replaced with your weapons, his gun clutched tightly in his own grip. You remained on the outskirts, but that didn’t mean you were safe. If anything you were in more danger this out in the open. There should have been something by now. Yet it seemed that fate had a different idea altogether.

In a way, you were beyond thankful, but uncertainty still remained. A reminder that this would only last for so long. Fate offered what it could, and you took without a second thought. There would never be another chance like this—never another moment of peace.

Sweat stuck to the back of your neck as you walked, eyes scanning the area like clockwork. Joel was a few paces ahead, his body tense, finger on the trigger in case of the worst. You hoped it would never come. Neither of you spoke for fear that whatever remained in the abandoned buildings could hear you. The air was sticky with heat and you felt your body begin to dry out the longer the both of you traveled.

“We can rest up ahead,” he called over his shoulder as if your thoughts were projected to him.

“Do you know where we’re going?”

It’s not that you didn’t trust him—you did—but wandering in the city felt like a risk you shouldn’t be taking more than a trip of enjoyment.

“I’ve got an idea.”

You scoffed. “That’s helpful.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t trust me now Boston,” he drawled with a halfway grin across his face.

“It’s kind of late for that…Texas.”

“No shit.”

You did your best to hold back the laugh that bubbled to the surface, but there was no use. You couldn’t stop it now. Joel looked surprised for a split second, his lips parting into a wide smile, until he began to laugh with you. Deep and rough and perfectly Joel.

This. This is what you ached for most. Joy—no matter how small—in a time where the concept no longer existed. If you could bring that to each other even as you fought to survive then you’d be okay.

In the near distance you could see it, a small section of benches surrounded by nothing but overgrown bushes, flower patches, and trees that would have never been allowed to grow that tall. A sense of elation filled your chest at the sight of a park. So out in the open, so mundane in a city quickly being overtaken by nature. Ivy trailed up the buildings as if that alone kept the ruins together, but you’d never seen something so beautiful.

“I got some food left over,” he muttered, rummaging in his pack as you took a seat on a bench covered by vines. “Nothin’ much, but it’ll work till we dig up somethin’ else.”

You took it gratefully, taking in the area with wonder as you caught every small piece that might show a hint of the past. Shop signs were broken off, rubble scattered through the streets, and abandoned cars were lined up like barriers to the inside of buildings. Perhaps people had come through here before, trapping the infected inside as they made their way through the city quickly.

“Do you remember what it was like?”

He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, catching sight of the coffee shop sign you were fixated on—half of it gone and broken on the asphalt. Everything here had been destroyed over the years. Taken, ripped a part, and left to rot. Yet the cracks in the streets where plants grew told Joel that life still found a way to flourish. Even as darkness and cruelty became the figurehead of humanity.

“Loud,” he said, biting into the dusty granola bar.

You smiled, shifting to make room for him as he joined you on the bench. “So I’ve heard. The city that never sleeps. I guess it was named that for a reason.”

“People were crammed into every corner.” He pointed up to a building in the distance. Surprisingly it hadn’t collapsed yet. “I stayed there. Fourth floor.”

“Hotel?”

He nodded. “Expensive as shit.”

“That tracks.”

“But I had fun.” He grinned, eyes distant as if replaying moments of his past, reliving what it was like to be in this city at the height of its prime. “Tommy wanted to move here. After the army.”

“Did you…want to go with him?”

Joel huffed, eyes falling to his hands as he broke apart the granola bar—anxiety bleeding off his body and seeping into yours. “No. That life was his. Not mine.”

Counting in your head, you tried to calculate at what age Joel might have been when Tommy came home. What might have happened in his life. Until the conversation from earlier came back to you like a fist to your face. Sarah. You tried to picture him as a young dad, raising a little girl, and suddenly the gap between your years and his felt like a chasm you shouldn’t cross.

A split in the ground so deep you could see right down to the center of the Earth.

“And to think,” you replied, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I could have met you here.”

His laugh was shadowed by pain—grief he’d never let you see in its entirety. “You wouldn’t have gone for me.”

“That’s not true.”

“What with you bein’ a fancy museum worker?” He turned, his nose brushing against yours. “Gettin’ you to look twice at me would have taken some effort.”

You smiled, stealing a kiss. “You’re wrong. I’d have asked you out in an instant if I saw you. Maybe…in a bar.” His laugh was soft, raspy as if he’d been shouting for hours. “Or a park.”

“Yeah?” You wanted to keep his smile. “How would it go?”

“Well…” Pulling back, you pressed a finger to your chin, eyebrows pulling together as you pretended to lose yourself in thought. “I’d begin the conversation, because you’re not much of a talker.” He pinched your side, drawing out a laugh.

“And you’d say?”

Forcing your face into a stoic expression, you grasped his shoulders. “Excuse me sir. Are you a fan of country music?”

He snorted, his body shaking as he broke between your palms. Laughing so hard he nearly dropped his granola bar on the floor. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine the sounds of the city in the background. The echo of what could have been reverberating to you through the years.

This would be it. The moment you knew you were head over heels for the man sitting beside you.

This is where you’d start to plan a future.

“And you’d say…of course, I’m from Texas darlin’.” You did your best to morph your voice into his, but couldn’t get through it without smiling.

Joel cupped your chin, tugging your lips close enough to feel them brush across his—your heart now beating an unsteady rhythm in your chest. “Of course.”

“And I’d say…that’s funny. I’m from Boston.” Sadness seeped into your heart when he looked at you like that—as if you were the only person to exist on this planet. His hope. His lifeline. “And the rest is history.”

He pressed his lips against yours, stealing a kiss soft enough to crack off another splinter of your heart. “I like that version of history.”

“Me too,” you breathed, biting down hard on your bottom lip to keep the sting of tears at bay.

You could feel the pain in your feet begin to shoot through your lower back. Traveling steadily with each step. From what you could tell, the sun was dipping into mid afternoon, still early in the day, but late enough to cause worry. Staying in the city past nightfall didn’t bode well for either of you. Yet somehow…you were traveling deeper into the maze of fallen buildings and broken roads.

“Joel—”

He stopped in the middle of the road, his back straight and shoulders tense. You braced yourself for the worst, hands grabbing tightly onto the weapon clutched to your chest. A small chirp of birds sounded in the distance, animals echoing their sentiments back to the broken world around them. Yet nothing sounded dangerous enough to cause worry.

“What is it?”

Glancing back at you, he threw you a cautionary smile, head tilting as if to say join me. 

So you followed his instruction. Stepping around the cracks in the street to stand close, facing him as he looked at something behind you.

“We’re here.”

Confusion lined your face, worry filtering through your chest. “Where’s…here?”

“Turn around.”

His hands grasped your shoulders, shifting you until you were staring at the building he was. And for a moment you nearly laughed; claimed it was a good joke walking you nowhere. Only for your eyes to catch sight of the cracked and broken steps before you. Weeds grew between what still remained and the front was blown to shit, but you’d recognize this building even with your eyes closed.

The final destination in the path of your old future.

“The Met?” you whispered, eyes wide in awe at the sight of such a grand building torn to bits.

He pressed his lips to your ear. “Thought you might want to see it in person this time.”

Those three words you uttered last night, barely spoken at all, suddenly felt too small to describe the depth of what you felt. You didn’t just love Joel. You would die for him. You’d take any pain he harbored and carry it as your own. And you’d do all this…because he’d do the exact same for you. Love felt too little in the grand scheme of things.

How could you simply love someone who would bring you the future and lay it at your feet?

“Is it safe?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, tinged by awe.

“Probably not.”

“So we could die?”

“There’s a good chance.”

You smiled, tangling his hand in yours. “I think it’s worth it.”

“Yeah.” He squeezed your palm softly. “I do too.”

Carefully he led you up the steps. A walk that felt surreal after years of dreaming this exact moment. You knew one day you’d get here. Whether that was with a degree and a resume in your hand, or holding the hand of a man who saved you. You didn’t care, because finally…there you stood.

Ivy crawled up the sides of the building, the doors were no longer attached, and you felt as if you were walking into a different universe. The entrance that you’d seen in brochures and pictures somehow looked prettier this way; slowly being captured by the hands of nature. As she shifted the land of humans to her point of view.

The almost crystalline marble shone differently in the direct sunlight. Glancing up you caught sight of the hole in the ceiling. This building must have been affected by the bombing.

“I remember this part,” he said suddenly, an awestruck expression painted across his face. He looked like a young man again, taking his first visit to this grand old museum.

“This is called The Great Hall. And it was Richard Morris Hunt that was the architect on the project. One hundred years ago. Well give or take a few years.”

A stream of words left your mouth without a single thought. Explanations of the different parts that once existed, the historical references for how they were built. And for a moment you felt nineteen again. Fresh out of an art history class; the knowledge once again at the forefront of your mind.

All the while Joel watched with a glint in his eyes, silent to what you had to say, yet focused entirely on you. The museum wasn’t important to him. Hell he barely gave a shit about what used to be here. But something changed in your demeanor as you spoke about art and the history attached to it. You bloomed before his very eyes.

You came alive.

“I wonder if a few of the paintings are still around,” you murmured, eyes averting to one side of the room. “Could we…”

He nodded, readying his gun. “We can try.”

You expected this place to be crawling with infected. At least a few here and there, yet nothing but silence greeted you with each new room you entered. It became unnerving after a while. As if fate was waiting to drop the other shoe, tearing apart something already special.

Hesitation lingered in each step you took, fear crawling along your nerves like a spider, until you entered a room filled with paintings torn apart. Once upon a time it was a gallery, yet now the delicate pieces of history were nothing but a reminder of what happened.

Tucked away on a side wall, you found a painting still hanging. A small crack went through the top corner of the glass covering it, but as a whole the piece remained pristine enough to make out.

“You know that one?” he asked, following your quick pace through the room.

“Allegory of the Planets and Continents.”

“Allegory huh?”

You nodded. “Painted by Tiepolo in…1752.”

“I can’t say I’ve heard of him.”

“He did a lot of allegorical pieces.” You tilted your head, eyes tracing the intricate details that were nearly lost to time. Joel did the same. “I remember seeing this in a class presentation.”

He hummed, his gaze finding its way back to you. “And what does it mean?”

“A number of things really.” You pointed to the center. “That’s Apollo. And those are the gods as a representation of the planets. Mars, Jupiter, Venus. You know.”

“And them?”

You sighed. “Humanity.” His hand found its way towards yours, fingers twining together as you stood there. Alone in a museum together. “They’re waiting for Apollo to take to the skies and bring about the sun.”

“Seems like a lot of work for a God.”

The smile that crossed your face made Joel’s chest tighten. “I guess it was. Although it’s strange. Back then people were waiting for the sun and now…well now we wait for death.”

Pain flared in his heart quickly and without warning. But he did his best to force it down, steadying himself in your hold. Oh how he wished he could tell you the truth. About the past he had yet to accept as his own. About the bullet that never met its mark—the hand that remained unsteady even now.

“We should go soon,” you said, pulling him out of his own mind, and he nearly thanked you. “The sun will be going down eventually.”

He nodded. “Go out the way we came.”

It hurt to say goodbye to a building you’d never been in before. But that’s not where the pain stemmed from. You’d said goodbye to the prospect of what if a long time ago. You had to. This was from losing such a precious moment with Joel—a memory you’d hold onto for as long as you could. For that time…you were simply two people wandering the halls of a museum together. Finally on a date after so long traveling.

Maybe if you had met years before in a bar or in a park. You wouldn’t have to say goodbye.

The sunlight felt different back on the steps, brighter, crueler. As if Apollo was mocking you for such a small hope, such a small dream come to life. Yet even now you couldn’t blame him.

You headed back the way you came through the city. But your feet were weary, your body drooped with each step, and eventually you’d collapse on the asphalt just as the buildings once did. Joel could tell with each look he threw your way, checking to make sure you were in fact following him. He wouldn’t have put it past you to remain in that building.

To make a home with history.

“We can’t sleep here,” he said, pausing to let you catch your breath.

“I know. My feet just…”

He nodded solemnly, squinting against the sunlight. “Wait here.”

“Joel?”

There was no time to question his actions, because you were out of breath as it was, and he was moving further away quicker than you expected. Standing there in the middle of the street wasting sunlight turned your insides with every second that passed. Your eyes caught sight of him turning a corner before he vanished entirely from your sight. And you held onto the thin shred of sanity you had left in your body.

You trusted Joel. A fact truer than anything you’d known in your life.

So you waited, watched your surrounding areas, and held your breath. 

If you weren’t so unnerved by the silence, you might have found it enjoyable. Some peace before the two of you went in search of a QZ that may no longer be there. That thought never occurred to you—traveling with Joel kept you distracted enough to where you didn’t focus on the important things. The question that now picked at your heart.

What were you supposed to do if the QZ wasn’t there? Where would you go?

Blind faith is all that kept you going, but that never seemed to be enough. In the end you were left with nothing but disappointment. You’d run all out of faith when it came to the fates. The still healing wound on your side was proof enough of that.

The echo of dried leaves cracking beneath feet signaled to you that Joel must have returned. Whatever he was looking for must have been a bust. The smile on your face and tease right on the tip of your tongue died in moments as you turned. A rock falling to your stomach, filling you with dread.

Dried blood caked down the side of their face. A deep red now a rust brown; a stark contrast to the green moss that covered their torn clothes.

Every time you saw one you felt the punch to your gut grow stronger. As if lead embedded itself in your flesh. Again. Your breath came in short, eyes stuck staring at what was once a person. They stumbled forward, body twitching with every stunted shift. And you wanted to scream. Shout for Joel, but your mouth sealed itself shut, your body rooted to the ground beneath you.

The whole time you were aching for life to return to this city, you forgot. Life already existed here. Mangled and rotting and steeped in death.

But life nonetheless.

They turned, eyes glassy and empty, but somewhere in the depth of them they recognized that you were alive. Your heart pounded against your chest, louder than their fucking screech. It pierced right through your skin, a slice to the already existing wound.

You clutched Joel’s gun, finger sliding along the trigger. It was easy enough to pull, to set the bullet flying towards its mark. And you should have pulled it, should have watched as they dropped, but like an idiot…you hesitated.

Why the fuck did you hesitate?

A pause of silence filled the space, echoing louder than any gun could have, before time slowed before your very eyes. How fucking stupid of you. To think you’d be safe. They clocked your shift back, head twitching, before that horrifying click you’d come to hate echoed in your ears. You were dead the second they started to run, limbs flying and body thrashing, as if the control stemmed to one part.

One sole purpose.

Infect.

“Fuck!” you shouted, ignoring the ache in your feet as you sprinted in the direction Joel disappeared to. If you were lucky he was still there.

Yet life had a way of proving to you that luck had nothing to do with why you remained alive.

“Joel!” You gasped for breath, doing what you could to ignore how they sped up behind you, their screech somehow louder as it echoed off the buildings around you. “Joel!”

If you could get the upper hand you could put a bullet in their skull, but your thought process happened too late. Glancing over your shoulder, you were blinded by their body launching at you. Toppling you to the ground as they scratched for your face, any part of you they could sink their teeth into. You don’t remember screaming, or even calling Joel’s name. You simply fought. You tugged on the loose thread of pure fucking rage that called your name—screamed for you to do survive.

“You piece of shit!” you yelled, managing to hold them off with your forearm, your fingers grappling for the knife attached to your side. “You fucking animal!”

“Boston!”

Yanking it out, you nearly cried in relief as you jammed it into their neck, shoving it in deep enough to hear a crunch as it met bone. Satisfaction pulled at your chest. You didn’t stop there. Dragging it out, you sliced through their shoulder, their throat, any part of them you could reach. Until you were no better than the monster that now lay above you. Lifeless.

Hands came out of nowhere, grasping onto their corpse and shoving it off you. You nearly took a swing at the person above you, the red fury blinding you to anything that could have existed nearby. The feral piece of your heart—the survivor—had been set in motion and they called for blood.

Joel’s hands yanked the knife out of your clutch, his voice calling your name, and for a moment you felt lost to the depths of your own fury. You would have killed him if he wasn’t fast enough to dodge that knife.

“Boston!” He pressed you to the ground, his body sitting on your waist, hands keeping your wrists together. “Baby it’s me.”

The breath in your lungs escaped in a sharp gasp, your body stilling within seconds. Only a few times in your life had you succumbed to that raw emotion that scratched and clawed at your chest. Some days you claimed it kept you alive. Others you ignored its existence in the hopes that it would disappear for good. It was the darkness you refused to see—the one thing you wouldn’t accept about yourself.

“You’re okay,” he mumbled, releasing the hold he had on your hands in order to cup your face. “It’s dead. It’s gone. You killed it.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Why…did you leave?”

Leaning forward he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath hot across your chin. “I’m sorry darlin’. I keep doin’ that.”

Inhaling his breath, you did what you could to regulate your heart. “And I keep nearly dying.”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Nearly. Not if I got a say in the matter.”

Dirt covered your back as he helped you to your feet, and before you could shake it off, he brushed his hands along your body. Patting it off as best he could. The act shouldn’t have brought tears to your eyes, it shouldn’t have even been noteworthy. But the tenderness behind his touch reminded you what you could have lost.

“I want an explanation,” you said, your voice thick with tears. Thankfully he chose to ignore it.

“I found somethin’.” He pointed to a shop that held no sign, no indication that it was anything before this. “You might like it.”

You struggled to put the knife back in its place—still wary and on edge. “This better be good Texas. I didn’t almost die for nothing.”

Joel didn’t respond, but you caught the flash of something crossing his face. Dark enough to cause worry. And you wanted to ask, to prod and poke at what he was keeping to himself, but the way his fingers tightened on his gun told you enough. He didn’t like to think of you that way. Dead on the ground in a city that he brought you to. A trip that was meant to be filled with joy.

“Follow me,” he stated, pushing open that already broken door.

You half expected to see a shop, something frivolous from the past, but the sight of a garage nearly stopped you in your tracks. A dusty brown cover cloaked something in the middle, but the shape was familiar enough to light up your chest. A car. Joel tugged at the cover, kicking up dirt and whatever else lay atop, but you couldn’t care less.

It’s once beautiful dark red color looked aged with however long it had been here. Never one to know cars, you simply knew that it was expensive—a thing that would have cost the entirety of your tuition at one point.

“How…” you breathed.

“Saw the logo on the window,” he replied. “I figured it was a hardware store until I came in.”

“Does it work?”

He shrugged. “Probably not.”

You deflated slightly. “Can we…fix it?”

The sun was going down faster than you would have liked and Joel knew it. He could see how you were both losing time the longer you were there. But the prospect of having an escape kept him on the edge. His grim expression made the choice for you as you moved to pop the hood. Your bag, now discarded on the floor by his feet.

“I don’t know much about cars—”

“Lucky you got me.”

“Don’t tell me. You’re a contractor who knows cars?”

Joel huffed. “Someone had to help my brother fix up his shitty truck.”

The words were good enough for you as he moved you out of the way, ducking down to peer at the engine. His shirt tugged up his back as he leant forward, his skin coated in a sheen of sweat. If it were any other time and the prospect of this car working didn’t depend on life or death, you would have sat back and admired him.

But the edge from earlier still ran through your veins, adrenaline the only thing that kept you upright and stable. Joel worked silently, cursing under his breath every now and then. Only speaking to ask for certain tools. And you watched the sun begin to dip lower. Suddenly you found yourself regretting never taking auto shop in high school. Choosing wood shop over it in a heartbeat.

“Turn her over,” he said, wiping the sweat away from his neck. You felt warmth pool in your stomach at the sight.

Jamming the screwdriver into the ignition, you turned it slowly, hope cresting at the top of your chest. Only for the sputter of an engine to die out in seconds.

“Shit,” he muttered, glancing back at the work he’d put in. “The battery ain’t dead yet and I fixed everythin’ else. Try again for me darlin’.”

You repeated the motion, pressing down on the gas pedal, clutching the wheel in your hand. Whether it was you attempting to force life into the car, or sheer fucking luck, you’d never know. But the echo of the engine roaring to life flooded you with enough relief you fell back into the seat with a smile.

“Joel?”

He looked up, a smile of pride across his lips. “Yeah baby?”

“Let’s get the fuck out of New York.”

Nodding, he tossed your bag into the backseat as you let him slide into the driver's seat. “I like the sound of that.”

The calm of the forest welcomed the both of you with open arms. As if promising the rest you ached for desperately. Miles and miles of trees—of different shades of green and brown—were softly illuminated by the sun steadily dipping in the sky. In an hour or less night would be upon the world and this day, no matter how special, would have to come to an end.

You tried not to think about it; the idea of having to say goodbye to something you’d cherish. What would keep you going if Joel and you were to ever part. What you wouldn’t do to keep the sun in the sky for a while longer. Give up a few years of your own life, of the future you planned with hope filled eyes and empty hearts.

If staying here—in this moment—was an option, you wouldn’t hesitate to jump at the chance.

Joel slammed the trunk of the car shut, a small box of cans he found buried in the back of the garage, clutched in his hands. Despite the prospect of all this eventually ending, you caught the hint of a smile on his lips. Barely there, yet bright enough to light up your heart like a match being struck.

You found yourself smiling back—heart hammering loudly in your chest.

“We’ve got…” He raised a can covered in dents and coated in a thick layer of dust. “‘M gonna assume it’s soup.”

“Lovely,” you laughed, your face twisting up in disgust as he tossed it to you.

The dust was sticky beneath your fingers, as if something had spilled across it years ago. You figured it was best not to question more than necessary. Settling on the ground, you plunged your knife into the cover, taking a hesitant whiff of something probably expired past saving. Much to your surprise though, a pungent scent of tomatoes greeted you.

“Raviolis,” you exclaimed, delight scrawled across your face.

You wished you could have seen Joel’s eyes go soft, seen the way he practically melted at the expression of joy you wore. Joel Miller remained hard as stone to the rest of the world, but in moments like this, when peace was prominent and life gave way to something other than pain. He allowed himself to feel. For a bit…he was the man he might have been a decade ago.

“Good enough for me.”

Prying the lid off, you watched as he set up stones for a small enough pit. You were far enough in the forest that it would take people several hours to get to you. Far enough away from civilization of any kind. What remained in the city, the bits and pieces left behind, would never be enough to build what used to exist. Like it or not…that part of the world had come to a close.

The chapter sealed and signed off with enough blood to keep it shut forever.

“Thank you,” you said softly as he struck a match from the small box you kept in your pack. “For today.”

He grinned, glancing down at his hands that fiddled with a stick. “Was nothin’ really. You wanted to see the city and we were heading this way—”

“Joel.” Cupping his face, you shifted his shining brown eyes until they were upon your face. Gazing at you with a look he’d never shown you before. “You gave me a day I’ll never forget.” He chuckled, grasping onto your waist gently. “Thank you.”

Those two words didn’t seem like enough to get your message across. You wanted to do the same for him. To give him something he’d remember, but nothing felt enough.

He pulled you closer. “Would have been better if you didn’t get attacked.”

“Well…” You looped your arm around his neck. “I knew what I was getting into when I chose you.”

Something shifted in the air between you the second he led you up those cracked and broken museum steps. The front of the building had been blown clean off by bombs, but you’d recognize it anywhere. The place where your future once led to. A home in your heart for so long. A dream not yet come to life. Joel took care to lead, to put himself in harm's way to keep you safe. But it was more than that.

He gave you time to look.

To take back a part of your past you never got to have.

An act that he’d never be able to do. He couldn’t go back, couldn’t take anything from his past that hadn’t already been destroyed. The watch on his wrist was all he’d keep. But you…he could give this to you. He could heal something in your heart you didn’t even realize was broken.

“I’d do it again,” he murmured, lips sliding along the inside of your wrist, nose pressed to your palm.

Your heart ached for him; body burned for him. And in the lowlight of the sun, you found your hope in him. It glimmered softly, barely within reach, but Joel had kept it for you all this time. He made sure to protect what you couldn’t—what you had given up.

“Kiss me,” you whispered, catching his quickly darkening gaze. “Please.”

The crackle of the flames couldn’t hide his small groan of pleasure as his lips met yours. What he intended to be soft, reverent in a way he’d never been before, shifted rapidly. His hand slid up your body, fingers wrapped gently around your throat to keep you in place. To help him devour you a bit deeper. That alone sent a flutter to rush through your entire body, your fingers digging into his wrist, silently begging for him to press down tighter.

To cut off the air he exhaled into your lungs.

“You got no idea—” He sucked in a breath when your lips met his throat, teeth nipping at the salty skin. Red bloomed beneath the surface as you went, small marks and bruises to prove that he wasn’t dreaming. That this trip was real—that you were real.

He growled, fingers tightening around your throat to pull your lips back to his, a rough breath exhaled into your open mouth. “No idea what you do to me darlin’.”

Sticky warm wet heat spilled into your stomach, flooding your already damp panties. The can was forgotten on the edge of the pit, his touch far more enticing than a few meager pieces of food. If you could survive on one thing alone, you’d want it to be him. You would train your body to sustain itself on his touch, his tongue sliding along yours, his fingers digging into your skin.

He’d become your oxygen, your reason for living.

“I-I do.” You gasped as his teeth dug into your throat, hands quickly stripping you of your flannel. Helping him, you yanked at your shirt, discarding it to the side. Nothing mattered but the feel of his tongue tracing along your skin—the hot mix of his touch and spit made you dizzy. “You do the same to me.”

A soft grunt was muffled into your chest, his hips rising up to grind against something. To gain what little friction he could.

In the midst of kissing him, he managed to drag you into his lap, your knees pressed to the forest floor on either side of his hips. Your body, as close as you could get with clothes in the way. You could feel the heavy press of him against your thigh and clenched around nothing. The needy emptiness that slammed into your body was nearly too much, but you held onto what little fragments of sanity still remained.

You clung to the bits of yourself he wished to consume, knowing the consequences of what might come afterwards.

But how could you give a fuck about consequences when his touch lit you up like the fire to your left? How could you care about anything else? When his lips wrapped around your peaked nipple and sucked at it as if you were his source of life.

His hands slid up your back, skin hot wherever he touched, as he pulled you down into his lap a bit more. Enough to feel the familiar press of his cock straining against his jeans. The sun was nearly gone now, light bleeding through the branches of the trees, and you let the warmth consume you. You relished in its burning caress as he worshiped your skin with his mouth, his hands that had spilled blood for you.

“Need to be—” He bit off with a sharp moan as you rolled your hips down, giving him the pressure he needed. “Fuck keep doin’ that.”

You were desperate for him and you weren’t afraid to admit it to yourself. The infatuation bordered on obsession, but if you were to say that about him he’d finally have to admit the same to you. He’d have to crack open his chest, bleed through your fingers like sand, and allow you to dig your way to his heart. As if you were conducting an autopsy on his body—picking a part each dark piece that he was ashamed to hold onto.

“Touch me,” you whined, digging your fingers into his hair as he dug his into your hips. A burning bruising touch that left you needy.

He grinned, pulling at the button of your pants. “I am touchin’ you darlin’.”

“You—fuck, fuck, fuck—” His fingers slid through your slick, finding their way to the parts of you he’d memorized in such a short time. Your clit practically throbbed beneath his touch, body shuddering as he circled it with enough pressure to electrify your nerves. “Yes.”

“That’s what you want?” The question was irrelevant. He knew this better than you, but that wasn’t what he was asking.

Is this enough? This quick fuck beside a fire as you both hid the real reason. Was his touch, his kiss, enough to show the truth?

Was he enough?

You choked out a soft yes, your lips finding his in a sloppy spit slicked kiss, and his fingers became insistent in their determination to watch you break. Joel had become addicted to the sight. His very own guilty pleasure—yet how could he feel guilty about something so angelic? How could he repent for a sin that he’d give up everything for? What was the point of worshiping at an altar when heaven existed between your thighs?

Eventually his fingers wouldn’t be enough. For either of you. But he was focused on one thing, feeling your pussy spill along his palm. He sunk two fingers into you knuckle deep and smiled as your head fell back, a throaty moan echoing off the trees. You grinded against his hand, fingers tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck. And this was enough.

“Prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he murmured, hand still placed around your throat. His cock leaked as it constricted with your swallow and images of what he’d look like in your mouth flashed in his mind.

“M-More—” You gasped, your clit dragging along the heel of his calloused palm.

But you had begged for something else and Joel was never one to deny you. He ripped at your pants as you did the same with his, your lips messy and rough against his. You swallowed his moan the second your cold hand wrapped around his throbbing cock—precum sliding down your palm as he did his best not to finish there and then. He was so fucking wound up that this would be over before it began.

Neither of you cared.

“You’ve gotta know,” he rasped, gripping onto your bare hip as you hovered directly over his cock. Your pussy practically dripped onto him.

“Know what?” you sighed, sliding him through your slick.

He squeezed his eyes shut to the sight of you. The shine of firelight and sunlight played against your skin and Joel felt his body tighten painfully. The view alone nearly made you double over in pleasure, your breaths coming in short gasps as he fought to finish on the front of your pussy.

“That I—” He gasped as you began to sink down onto him, encasing him that sticky heat he’d begun to think was the cause of his demise. He’d never be able to live without this. Without getting to carve his way into your body. “Fuck darlin’.”

You grinned, cupping his chin and pulling his attention back. “I’ll go slow.”

“You don’t have to take it easy on me.”

“Seems like I might.”

A rumble started in the base of his chest, lips curving up as he caught your mouth in a searing kiss you felt down to your toes. The grip on your throat tightened as you began to move slowly, letting him pull out of you slow enough to cause madness to rise in your chest. Like a burn you refused to let go of. Joel had other ideas. He yanked you down with enough force to drag out a high pitched cry from your chest, your mouth falling open in a silent scream when he set his own pace.

Quick and fast and filthy enough to sign your name on hell’s roster. He wanted to fuck himself into your body so deep he was buried there. Wanted to paint your insides until you were leaking him all morning. He wanted to etch himself into your soul.

Permanent and without shame.

“C’mon darlin’.” His teeth dug into your jaw, pain slicing through the pleasure deliciously. “Let me hear ya.”

You curled into him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he pounded up into you. “‘S good,” you gasped, coherency going right out the window.

He grinned, tugging at your throat. “You can do better than that.”

Words faintly entered your mind before disappearing seconds later as he tilted your hips slightly. You scratched at his chest when his cock struck right where you needed him. Right where your mouth began to form words you fought so hard to keep at bay. Words that revealed too much, gave a window into your heart, and if you had the capability you’d shut your fucking mouth. But it was far too late for that.

“You like that?” he groaned, teeth digging into his plush bottom lip as he kept the angle. The veins on his neck were strained, begging for you lick at them, and you dipped down to distract yourself from the words.

The one thing that seemed to catch his attention.

“What was that?”

You whined, wrapped an arm around his neck as you dragged your hips along the coarse hair at the base of his cock. “Nothing,” you mumbled, sucking at his neck.

Only for him to pull you off by your throat, his lips hovering over yours. “What’d you say?”

“I—” You clung to him, begging for the truth to sink back into your chest. But he was staring at you with dark eyes and a parted mouth begging for you to kiss it. He looked at you as if you were ethereal and for that small moment, you believed it. “I love you.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, his hips stuttering in their movement. You watched his eyes go wide, understanding finally dawning across his features, and you prepared yourself for the worst. You waited for him to reject you. The words never came. He pulled you into a kiss, tongue sliding along yours, as he sped up his thrusts. Grunting into your mouth with each one—his body taut and begging for release.

“Yeah?” he panted into your mouth. You nodded, feeling the burn of pleasure begin to flash white behind your shut eyes.

“So much,” you sobbed, tears spilling down your cheeks. Something pulled tight in your stomach, building with each stunted move of his body against yours. You needed it, would beg on your knees for it, and Joel was right there with you.

His dark gaze met yours as he finally released your throat in favor of finding your clit. “Say it again.”

Heat rocketed up your spine as you locked down around his cock, his fingers insistent and rough. “I love you!” you cried, trembling in his hold. Those three words you’d been so afraid to say out loud finally spilled free over and over and over again. Until you couldn’t hear them anymore over the loud rush in your ears.

He slammed his hips up one last time, lips finding yours in a bruising kiss, and found his own peak. Spilling into you with a moan, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you pressed up close. You wondered if he feared you’d vanish before his very eyes.

“I love you,” he sighed, his forehead pressed to yours, eyes shut to your own wide gaze.

The words didn’t register at first, simply flying directly over your head. Yet as silence wrapped around your entwined bodies, sunlight disappearing over the last of the trees, you finally understood. No orgasm could match the absolute bliss that filled your body at the echo of his voice forming those words. Of their soft cadence. He was hesitant to look at you, to face what could finally break him, but your hands cupping his face drew him out of his own mind.

“Say it again,” you whispered, smiling so bright your cheeks ached. “Please.”

Before you could bask in their beauty, he was pulling away. Digging into his pack that lay behind him. You wanted to stop him, bring him back to this current moment, but the glint of something gold caused you to freeze. The breath once again caught in your chest.

For the first time you saw Joel grow nervous. Almost bashful as he lifted his hand and allowed a small green jewel on a gold chain to dangle between the both of you. The last of the sunlight glinted off the emerald and for some reason it reminded you of him. How it shone in those rare moments when light caught it just right. Yet held a darkness to it, a hidden truth yet to be revealed.

“I love you,” he said, pressing the necklace into your palms. “I always will darlin’.”

Tears dripped onto his hands as you clutched the dainty piece of jewelry to your chest. “Oh Joel.”

“It’s not a ring—”

You silenced him with a tear filled kiss, salt spilling across his tongue. He did what he could to wipe them away, but like it or not there seemed to be no end in sight. Not when your heart finally latched onto all those broken pieces you thought were lost. Joel did the one thing you never thought possible. He healed you.

“It’s enough.” You smiled into his kiss, the necklace digging into your palm—carving its shape into your skin. “You’re enough.”

You could see it now. The path your future led to. Not a building, or a job, or even a home. The end of your path—your grand plan—would always and forever lead to him.

[corviiids]

back in your asks unfortunately you can’t get rid of me. i’m going to keep enablign you.

you bringing up the kr version of hurricane and the martyr complex light has in it is great bc what fascinates me about hurricane as a song is how radically different it is in different languages? as we all know in the manga light has this horrible visceral reaction to what he’s done. he looks like he’s gonna be sick when he has that guy hit by a truck. when ryuk turns up he admits that he’s been losing weight and barely sleeping. but the musicals differ so massively in how light is portrayed? because in english light seems to have this very strong sense of justice from the start - in where is the justice he denounces the corporations corrupting the legal system and asks “how can we turn away and say that’s just the way things are?” and then in hurricane he hardly seems upset at all by what he’s done. he seems vaguely surprised at how easy it was and then turns around and sings about how he’s got this insanely strong, perfect, untraceable power that he’s going to use to deliver righteous retribution. BUT then the jp versions of witj and hurricane are much less certain and light seems more horrified and then hopeful. the focus is on creating a perfect world, not necessarily punishment. he’s more a glass half full kinda guy. and then it changes AGAIN in the kr. it’s so fascinating he is a completely different version of himself in all three versions and i just need to ask. what are your opinions on this. am i making this up. do you understand how my brain is firing

you are NOT making this up and i DO understand how your brain is firing. listen. listen. in that same post about light/achilles (intertextual comparison not ship) (although?) and prompted by a response from someone else cool i reposted these tweets (which you have literally just seen because i shoved them at you but ill post them again so everyone can see)

to me it is like, very key that every iteration of light yagami SEEMS really different. in their behaviour, their values, what it takes to push them to acting and how they react, etc - obv you've brought up light as he appears in the three most well known languages the musical exists in, but i also am a huge fan of comparing his animanga self (already two different iterations to an extent) with the tv drama, which has maybe the most distinctive version of light out of all of them and which i BELIEVE? drew criticism? but i am not 100% because i was not here for this because i watched death note for the first time in fucking february. because i am hip with the kids. #rad

anyway this is part of a much larger ramble of mine that i am not really doing justice here but i actually really like that that version of light is so incredibly different - and yet he really isnt, somehow, because he ends up not only at the same ending but recognisable as the same person. that's what i think is so interesting! these differences are undeniably there and they're BIG - as you said, between musicals he ranges from being a vengeful guy on a power trip to being an idealist with a martyr complex, and you'd think those are two totally different sets of core values. between animanga vs tv drama he goes from being this cool and collected hyper prepared cynical idealist to being a depressed nihilist who's working extremely hard to shed his own ability so he doesn't have to deal with the pain of caring. again, these seem, and factually are, completely different sets of values.

and yet they're actually perfectly reconcilable. every iteration of light no matter how distinct and no matter how much their core values seem to oppose or contradict each other ends up reconciling into the same guy partway through the story, where all of these different directions he's been going in all converge. his priorities even out - regardless of if it was the power trip that came first or the desire for the perfect world, they balance ultimately and coexist. regardless of whether his idealism led him to bitter radicalisation or nihilism, they also balance ultimately and coexist. is light affected by his first murder? yes - how does it show it? that differs, but none of the lights are actually deluded enough to think that murder is good. they all think it's bad but defensible and justifiable and then visibly cope with that fact in different ways. light looks like a VERY different man depending on which of his values are being pushed to the fore in a given interpretation, but all that really does is serve to spell out exactly how complex he is internally once you watch them all converge at around similar points in the story, even when at the barest and most uncharitable interpretation he just looks like a maniacal serial killer with a delusional god complex. this is why i like him so much unfortunately

also none of this applies to netflix light who is irreconcilable and irredeemable. and white

[aaron-m-geist-ff]

NOT EVEN GONNA LIE ZODIAC ASKS ARE SUCH A COOL IDEA!!! 😭 AFTER STALKING YOUR PROF- AHEM SORRY- READING YOUR WORK- couldn't resist the irresistible energy to toss my hat into the ring *wink wonk*. A-KNEE-WAYZ we're twinning- I'm a gemini tooo 🤭🔫 and honestly I would love something fluffy (tho I wouldn't say no to some smut either teeheee) life's been stressful lately :(( I'm pretty new to the fandom so I'm rather curious to see what you'll give me 👀...OH and I use she/they pronouns :))

PS: May I ask you what your favorite flower is?

PPS: Your writing is phenomenal, imma go stalk your ao3 later

Signed,

Your newest supporter.

Omg your ask made me smile so much because of how absolutely unhinged it is 😂you can stalk me all you want! And I could already tell you were a Gemini just from the first sentence 🤣A-KNEE-WAYZ, I will give you what you want now!

Ps: I like white daisies and any red flower ☺️

Pps: thank you for supporting me so strongly, twin!🩷💅🏻

_______________________________________________

You got…🥁🥁🥁

Satoru Gojo!

“Oh my god!! And then, you will never believe what happened next, my co-worker actually told me that her step daughter got cheated on! Isn’t that crazy?! I was so shocked, clutching my pearls and everything!” You continued to ramble on and on about one of your crazy stories.

Gojo sat there with his blindfold on, taking a sip of his soda as he listened patiently.

“Satoru, are you even listening to me?” You stopped telling your story all of a sudden to ask the question.

“Am I talking too much?” You asked. You were beginning to feel insecure. In the past, people used to straight up start ignoring you because of how much you talked. You really valued your boyfriend’s opinion of you and didn’t want him to end up disliking you for some reason. You couldn’t hide the concerned look on your face.

Gojo chuckled.

“Nah, baby. Talk all you want. I’m listening~”

He sounded so fucking dominant when he said that. It actually made your cheeks start to heat up. You weren’t one to get flustered easily, but having Gojo order you to talk more did stupid things to your Gemini brain.

Gojo smirked when he saw your blush. He rested his chin on his hand, leaning back on the couch.

“In fact…Come sit on my lap while you continue that story of yours.”

Gojo’s voice was so attractive to you. It made you nervous. And the idea of sitting on his lap made your heart do a flip in your chest. As a Gemini, you have a tendency to be a little too flighty. Your mind is often all over the place. Gojo enjoys being your anchor.

You sat on his lap, facing him as you straddled him. Your cheeks were flushing so much out of embarrassment. You swallowed thickly, wrapping your arms around Gojo’s neck.

“Right…So, anyway…W-where was I in the story? I think I lost my train of thought-“ you stuttered.

Gojo’s large hands moved to grip your ass. He squeezed it casually.

“Your co-worker’s step daughter got cheated on and you clutched your imaginary pearls,” he said with a short laugh.

You giggled, trying to ignore the arousal flowing through you.

“Y-yeah! Sounds about right!” You chirped cheerfully. It made you really happy that Gojo remembered those little details. He seemed to pay attention to you just like he promised. It made your heart feel warm to be appreciated in such a way.

_____

“Ha…Y-yes…Right there, Satoru-“

You moaned quietly, your face pressed into Gojo’s neck as you rode his cock. You could feel the tip pressing into your special spot, sending little shocks of pleasure through you.

“And what happened next in the story?” Gojo teased lowly, uttering the words right beside your ear.

You whined. “Satoruuu! I can’t….ha, fuck… I can’t talk-“

You were always quite vocal during sex, and how could you not be?? Gojo fucked you too well. He chuckled at your pathetic response.

“Oh? My little Gemini can’t talk anymore? Must feel really intense, babe.”

Gojo gripped your hips as he began to fuck you from below, pushing his cock up into your tight entrance. He moaned under his breath, getting lost in the feeling as he thrusted roughly without any hesitation.

“Fuck…Gonna fill you up, princess.”

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hi! So, I saw that your requests are closed so feel free to like ignore this for now and get to it later (or ignore it completely, of course) but I was just diagnosed with Hortons syndrome/ cluster headaches (also nicknamed “suicide headache” due to how painful it is) and sorry if I’m rambling but I’m feeling more than a bit sorry for myself and self pitying rn, so I just wanted to request your thoughts on how Tan (and possibly Pietro as well) would be in a situation like that, with processing the diagnosis and helping you through the headaches and all that stuff 🥺 just like being really comforting and supportive. And also with treatments bc those include giving yourself injections and I’m really bad with needles

hii angel!! don’t apologise for rambling, that sounds awful and im so sorry you’re going through that!! really do hope this can be of some comfort to you, sending my love and hope you’re doing well 💌

TANGERINE MEDICAL COMFORT.

I feel like he'd be very attentive throughout the whole thing — especially at the beginning when you're going to appointments and getting tests run. he knows how nerve-racking and scary it is, so he'd be sure to make you feel supported. he doesn't want you to think you're going through this alone

he does that thing where he holds one of your hands with both of his and holds it to his chin. he'd kiss the back of yours, kinda soothing and distracting you while you wait for your name to be called. or if your leg is jittering, he always places a hand over your knee, steadying you. also he plays with your fingers as another way to distract you while you're in the waiting room. I don't think he's one to talk a whole lot, and he's not sure what to say (he doesn't want to say the wrong thing) so he'd rely on touch to convey his feelings

when your name gets called he stands up as well. he wants to be there so assumes he can come in too, you'd really want him there, so you also assume he'd follow. when the doctor/ whoever is explaining, tan would listen for you in case things weren't setting in. he'd hold your hand, squeeze it, play with it, anything to comfort you while you're getting your diagnosis

maybe he's happy that it has a name and that you now have something to label the pain you've been feeling (medical validation really is validating) while he's also sad for you bc a diagnosis is also a super heavy, weighing feeling. the night you get your diagnosis he's online ordering a bunch of shit for you — a huge selection of cooling and heating creams, high thread count washcloths (also different fabrics to see what you prefer) thick blackout curtains, a new water cooling system to install somewhere discreetly (maybe to have in your room, but it's disguised as furniture) he'd be a little bit extra when ordering and buying everything

he knows you don't like needles so he doesn't want you to give your treatments to yourself (not if he can help anyway) so you'd be in the bathroom, and you'd be sat on the toilet seat lid, rambling to distract yourself as tan cleans his hands and preps the stuff. he says things like "don't look at it, look at me. see, there you go, it's easy. it's nothing. hey, why don't you tell me about that show you're watching, hm? it any good?" and "reckon you'll be good enough to do something later? can watch a film and get a takeaway? sound good?" and "there we go, almost done. right champ you are,"

he's so precious😻

[just-an-assbutt]

just follow up on your last post about charles and max, i've always found the narrative weird (and I think it's because oftentimes people who write max only see him on race weekends). in reality, max has even been described as quite shy off track but once he's comfortable, like in videos with daniel or the redbull crew, you can see he literally loves pleasing people and being funny. like the way he waits for every joke to land and watches people react. even in the cool down room you can always see him waiting for a chance to talk to people and he's always extra happy when they want to discuss stuff. he seems like a major people pleaser to me off the track and someone's who eager to go along with things. again, not claiming this is reality but just based on what we get to see

I totally agree with this! Specially since I was once one of those people. I first started watching only the races and, frankly, the only thing I cared about was just watching them race. But my dad is a huge F1 nerd (and loves to gossip) so he kind of ended up forcing me to learn about them outside of the track to gossip with me and that made me like Max a little more.

I used to dislike Max, because “race Max” is usually an asshole, he talks horrible to GP, complains a lot and is a bit too cocky. And Charles is the contrary, he doesn’t talk back to Xavi (even if he should), spends most of his time trying to solve things instead of complaining and is pretty humble. So I liked Charles more and Max less. Then my dad, a Lewis fan, started sending me memes daily and slowly I started to learn a little about the drivers off the track. I had always been a Vettel fan (still am) and then started to like Lewis a lot. But, of course, most of the things my dad sent me were against Max. It took me some personal effort to go and try to find things about him that weren’t negative. That’s when I started liking him more. Once you look at Max not high on adrenaline, you get to see a totally different person. Like you say Annon, he is shy and likes to ramble a lot to people, he waits eagerly for his jokes to land and closes off when he’s uncomfortable.

Charles is usually a person that makes him feel comfortable enough to ramble his heart out, the usual victim of Maxplaining. And you can see how important is for Max to tell Charles things. He runs from wherever he is to where Charles is just to talk to Charles, and you can always see Charles ready to be there and listen to him for an hour while Max lets it all out. I remember a cool down room this year that it’s a great example of that. Max was closed off, no idea why because his race hasn’t been that bad, Checo was there and even through he tried to make Max open up he couldn’t. I believe that Checo and Max are on great terms, but Max needs a pretty specific environment to be friendly and open with people he’s not too close to. Anyways, Charles walked in and saw that Checo was unsuccessfully trying to make Max talk a little bit and decided to help out. He remembered that Max complained about the wind during the race, so he brought that up. It got Max going instantly, his face and posture changed and he started rambling none stop about the wind and the effect it had on the car, like Charles didn’t know two things about aerodynamics. Checo smiled and stood there, listening to Max talk and he shared a little look with Charles, like he was thanking him. Even Charles knows how much Max loves to tell him things.

(Yes guys, keep sending asks and I’ll keep rambling, I’m like Max, I can never stop talking about F1).

[cloudmancy]

not to rekindle old discourse if you've moved on, but i was listening to you & @kindlespark's interview on the complicated women podcast / have enjoyed reading your fhjy posts and wanted to ask your thoughts on why the beginning of the season felt so promising to you? i enjoyed the premiere and the premise of the stresses of 11th grade/the rat grinders as foils, but as the season continued i started to feel disillusioned - it seemed less and less like an interactive/collaborative story (cassandra's death, fig's quest to rehabilitate ruben, the ratgrinders being really hard to find/interact with in general) and more of a tour through some unsatisfying callback easter eggs (i simply don't care about porter and it kind of felt like not even emily did). imo the ratgrinders were set up to fail as a narrative concept ever since the bad kids got mad at them for grinding and brennan just sheepishly grinned and shrugged at the camera, and while i share your disappointment that there was no coming together/addressing the root academic injustices that plagued both the bad kids and the ratgrinders, i don't think it was as surprising to me, as the season had already felt too filled with bits/joking around to be that dramatically tight - ironically, i think they got too bogged down in roleplaying scholastic tedium. i tend to come to d20 with a mindset of like, this is primarily a comedy and if they end up producing a satisfying narrative arc, great (and they certainly have achieved this in the past), but i don't think it's a coincidence that most d20 seasons are regarded as having unsatisfying endings - i think it's an incredibly hard thing to do in a ttrpg setting, even for professionals, especially so if their instincts are more towards comedy. they are great artists and improvisers, but evidently that doesn't mean they can't fail to cohere, and i think this season suffered from a lack of investment in narrative all around - brennan not being as flexible with the plot as he's been in the past, the players i think (some anyway) feeling a little tired of these characters and playing them as more chaotic/violent than usual (kristen's random nudism, fig's truancy, gorgug's hatred/bullying of maryann, fabian threatening to skin ivy). idk, i'm just rambling at this point - my overall message is that i'm in agreement that the finale was a letdown, but i'm curious as to how you thought the promising themes interacted with the story/performances in the earlier parts of the season, cause when i look back at it i don't see a unified vision, just some individually interesting pieces that never seemed to fit together, and i don't think i just feel that way in hindsight, but am open to other perspectives (disclaimer that obv this is all opinion and subject to debate)

here are sam's thoughts on it!

ok my thing is that 1) i love porter as a villain and i don't think the twist takes away from his character; i think brennan tied him to ankarna REALLY well and with genuine thought. the lore drop scene in the temple was genuinely chilling and very very cool to me and brennan clearly set up a lot of lore around it that was interesting and not just funny bc fig thought he was bad the whole time. i think porter is a great character and had the bad kids engaged with his philosophy of rage and not had ice feast completely nullify his threat he could've been a really compelling villain. 2) i genuinely had hope for the rat grinders because of brennan's insistence to make npcs like eugenia talk about them as foils, the fact that they used to be the high-five heroes, and the fact that he made them closer to unwilling participants than actual villains. seemed like genuine threads of complexity that the bad kids just didn't pick up on, but i also clearly was fooled bc that brennan didn't react to fig's attempts to convert ruben shows that he wasn't really prepared to have the final battle as anything but tbk vs trg 😭 i think the downtime system was actually really fun and effective at portraying both scholastic tedium while also embellishing the themes (rage tokens!!) 3) this probably wasn't made clear in the ep but i didn't expect d20 to write a perfect thematic story about addressing systemic injustices; i just wanted them to give me any kind of thematic acknowledgment in the battle at all and not just with ankarna. i am very aware that im always reading into the subtext of d20 seasons--that lament is more for the subtext that Could've Been. i agree with you about everything you've said wrt ttrpg settings and lack of narrative investment, but i had higher hopes because fhsy and tuc are so much better with their themes and the themes brennan appeared to be setting up seemed so… obvious to me…. it had me ignoring all the red flags 😭

[thefailedabortioon]

The string that holds us together || Byler

WARNINGS: internalized homophobia

short summary: where mike finally spills the beans. and meanwhile on an ordinary night in november, two boys depart in a garage

requests are open!!

a/n: hai another flickergate fic to add onto the other 18 already existing fics. ^_^

heres the link to the og tumblr post (well, i think its the og post 😭) anyways i’ll stop yapping enjoy!

Will Byers had finally made a fascinating discovery; Mike Wheeler was an asshole.

Honestly, he didn’t know why he defended the guy for so, so long. Mike treated him like shit, why would Will feel like he should be the one begging for forgiveness to him?

Like, take for example, he didn’t even bother apologizing to Will after their argument in the rain. After he’d lost Will again when he biked away. The rain drowning his tears rolling down his red cheeks away. Even after he and Lucas had found him near Castle Byers destroyed by Will’s own hands, his lips never uttered a singular “Sorry.” Oh, but him and El? Those two made up quick. Next thing Will knew, Mike was professing his love for her and how he “couldn’t lose her again!” Has he ever said that about Will? His own best friend?

Or maybe, how Mike probably never even dared to pick up a pen and start inking down a letter for Will. He could write down El letters no problem. Hell, he could write her an entire book! But to Will? Someone he’s known since he was six years old! He couldn’t even call? Then, of course, to make up for the no contact, he decided to give Will the most half-assed hug to ever exist at that airport.

Or how about when he forgot his birthday. March 22nd. His best friend. Someone who Will considered the most special person he’s ever met. Someone who Will wants to spend the rest of his life with, forgets his own birthday. Who the hell does that? I mean, what? They’ve friends for seven- eight years?!

But right now, right now he has to pretend none of that ever even happened. He has to shrug all of that away. Pretend his heart wouldn’t ache at how he was slowly losing his once best friend.

Because some shit is more important than how his old tight-knit relationship with Mike is literally hanging on by a thread at this point. Like how they needed to save the world. Again.

The Upside Down was dark. And cold. It didn’t look like it changed at all, but even so, a chill ran through Will’s back with every step they took in this twisted dimension. Then somehow, by some Satan-blessed miracle, he got lost with the last person he wanted to be with; Michael Wheeler. Just peachy.

“I-I’m just saying, it’s a fucking wonder how Steve Harrington managed to survive in this shithole for so long, you know? Like- My sister, she’s a fucking badass, right? And Eddie, that guy’s got survival instincts, he could thrive in an apocalypse for years. And that uh- what’s her name- Robin? Yeah, she’s- she’s cool. But Steve? The same guy who got absolutely shitfaced by your brother?” Mike scoffed.

“Uh-huh.” Will was only partially listening, trying to keep up behind Mike and his weirdly long legs.

They were navigating themselves towards the Wheeler’s house, but it’s literally (and figuratively) hell trying to look for it in the Upside Down’s dark atmosphere and clouded skies. The only thing lighting their ways was the bolts of lightning that would occasionally crack and thunder in the crimson red sky. Oh, and the continuous flickering of the streetlights.

Mike continued to ramble on, wanting to at least make small-talk, Will knew that this was just another way to try and cope with the fact they had gotten themselves lost in a completely different dimension. Another way to try and convince himself that everything will be fine. Will knew too well.

As they neared the neighborhood, a vine cracked around the two.

“Mike, shut up.” Will raised his shotgun, cocking it, the latter only nervously chuckled before gripping his pistol.

An eerie quiet fell between the two, it was suspenseful. Anxiety struck Mike between his ribs after every second that passed by that the silence didn’t break.

A loud screech played from the distance, and the two let out a deep sigh. “Holy crap.” Will exclaimed, lowering his gun on the ground. He sat down and brought his knees up to his chest, holding his head in his hands.

Mike’s breathing was all over the place, his heart was racing. (Because of his anxiousness. Not at all because of the way Will looked holding that gun.) Whatever that thing was hadn’t even attacked them, yet he was a rattling mess. To be fair, it is his first time in this hellhole.

“Are you okay?” Mike finally spoke, still trying to catch his breath.

“Fine.” Will swallowed a lump in his throat, “Let’s get going.”

Mike nodded, holding his hand out for Will to hold. Surprisingly, he didn’t refuse it, using it to get back on his feet. “Yeah, let’s go.” And just for a split second, Mike had given Will that look again. Where he just looks so mesmerized and smitten. As if Will had hung the stars in his dark horizon. It didn’t last for any longer than just a split second.

After a while of walking, they finally reached the Wheeler’s residence. Where everything happened. The house where Mike himself couldn’t even call it home. “Come on, follow me. I’ll lead you there.”

“I’ve been to your house a thousand times, Mike. I know where your garage is.” He wouldn’t let Mike see it, but in the faintest of all smiles, was a grin plastered on Will’s lips.

“Yeah, but it’s dark.” Mike retorted.

No shit, Sherlock! Was what Will wanted to say, bitterly. But he kept his mouth shut for the rest of the time. “Fuck. It’s locked.”

“Great.” He sighed, “Could you lead me to the keys as well?”

Mike hesitated to answer, as if he was debating if Will was being sarcastic or not, “It’s gotta be here somewhere.” He finally replied, pushing himself between Will and the door.

The two split up, despite how dim it was, Will at least had common sense. So he started to look for bowls that could hold the keys. Maybe they were hooked against the front door? He continued searching, flashing his light on for the darker areas of the house, such as the basement.

“Will!” Mike called out, running back to where he left him. “Found the keys!” He beamed, and Will literally felt his heart skip a beat at how much he missed seeing that smile.

“Don’t shout so loud! Remember, if any other creature hears you, so can Vecna.”

“Right. Sorry. Hive-mind.” He swung the keys around before twisting it in the door. “Open sesame.”

Will snorted, trying to keep his guard up for anything that could lunge at the them at any second. He shone his flashlight against the shelves on the wall. “Mike, crowbar.” With no question, Mike ran over and took it from the toolbox.

He stuffed it inside his backpack along with his other materials. As he tried to make it fit, a pair of longing eyes bore into the back of his head.

Will grimaced, when did they get so distant? Physically, they were close. But emotionally, it feels like he doesn’t even know him anymore. As if they haven’t known each other since kindergarten. As if he hadn’t replied ‘yes’ to him that day on the swings. It’s felt like eons since they last had a conversation without a thick cloud of awkwardness floating above them.

If El had never came along would their relationship remain the same? But then again, if she had never saved him, there would be no relationship at all. Will used to be so confused why he had so much hope in Michael Wheeler, but these past few years made him understand why. It’s just so hard to say it out loud and a guilt would rise in his throat every time he thought about it.

“Mike?”

His friend perked up at him, “Yeah?”

“Are we… still friends?”

“What?” Mike scoffed, confused.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” He paused, thinking it over. Were they? “You don’t- You don’t think of me as your friend anymore?” He asked, voice faltering in worry.

“No! No, I- I just..”

“What?”

“I dunno… we were just so close. But it feels like there’s this huge gap between the two of us now.”

“I…”

“It feels like you’ve been pushing me away.” Will finished, his brows furrowing.

“I’m not pushing you away.” The tallest out of the two stated, Mike looked dejected, like he was trying to convince himself of that more than Will, who broke through his lies easier than everyone else. Because Mike always kept his walls thin and easier to break whenever it was Will. Because it was him, and not anybody else.

“Then why does it feel like I can’t even say anything to you anymore?! Like, you just turned into everyone else? You didn’t even-“ Will cut himself off, tears burning the back of his eyes. He took a deep breath, wiping his hands on his pants.

Mike’s chest tightened, has he been neglecting Will? All this time? Something inside of him wanted to beat himself up for letting his friend- best friend deal with everything, his own inner conflicts all by himself.

Will let out a laugh, though there was no humor behind it. It was dry, flat. “Couldn’t even call?”

“What- What do you mean!?” He stuttered, “I did call, Will! I tried! But you never picked up! You’re acting as if you haven’t been pushing me away as well! Ever since- Ever since I arrived in Lenora you’ve been weird—“

“Weird? Really? Really, Mike?! I’ve been the one acting weird?”

“Yeah! Just-“ Mike sighed, “You know what? Forget it. It’s stupid.” Mike threw his hands in the air, trying to mediate the situation yet failing miserably. He grabbed a bike, removing its brakes, twisting the handles in his palm.

He wanted the fighting to just stop altogether. He couldn’t face Will. He couldn’t face the effects of the conflicts he caused. Because if he did, then everything would crumble. The Earth would crack and break in two while he tried to balance himself on both sides above the split made. And eventually, he’d fall. And fall endlessly into the scars of his mistakes. The scars that run deep into his veins, his soul. Everything hurts.

“No. No, Mike, you can’t keep doing this to me. You’re- you’re doing it again! You’re pushing me away! You’re shutting me out!”

“I’m not! Please, can we just stop?! This is meaningless okay? Where are you even going with this?! You want me to say sorry? Apologize?“

Will didn’t move or say anything, his brows furrowing further, his mouth pulled into a deep frown.

“Then I’m sorry, Will. I’m sorry! I’m really fucking sorry. I’ve been a selfish dickhead and I’ve just been scared. Okay?! So fucking scared.” He screamed, panicked. The first tear that dropped fell from Mike. The waves hit the walls hard, and it was as if a dam had finally broke. He finally broke. “I didn’t want to see- acknowledge you, I couldn’t even stand looking at you anymore! Because something in me would ache, like- like something burning in my fucking soul! And it hurts, Will. It hurts so much. And I’ve felt so guilty for everything that I just… I thought the best solution was to just push everyone away! Push you away…” His voice cracked at the end, tears falling endlessly against his rose tinted cheeks.

He huffed out a breath, “I’ve been going crazy because of it. And I just… I don’t want to keep lying to you anymore. Wasn’t that our number one rule? ‘Friends don’t lie.’ If- If you could even consider me as your friend anymore.” Mike wiped his tears away, ridding the blurriness in his eyes keeping him from seeing his best friend.

Will stood before him, mouth agape. He didn’t realize it, but at some point, he’d started crying as well. Everything, every word Mike said, it felt like boulders finally crashing down from Will’s shoulders, freeing him from the weight of his guilt.

“Mike…”

“I’m sorry. I’m so, sorry, Will. I shouldn’t have said anyth-“

“Stop apologizing for one fucking second, Mike!” Will cut him off.

And there was this moment. A beat.

Then without any thought or reason, driven by pure impulse, Will threw himself against Mike, colliding their mouths together. His lips were soft, and wet. Will had waited for this for so, so long, it became maddening and impossible for him to stop himself from lunging towards his best friend, his crush for basically nine years, the love of his fucking life. Will kept his hand against the low of Mike’s back, the other cupping his cheek. His thoughts scrambled, unable to make one coherent thought because he was kissing Michael Wheeler , (who he once thought was as straight as a ruler, but he’s been wrong about a lot of things.) Kissing Mike was like finally letting go of all the suppressed tension bottling inside of his stomach. Kissing Mike was freeing his soul from the chains of his insecurity and hopelessness. Kissing Mike felt so fucking good.

Fireworks exploded in Mike’s head when he finally got to taste Will Byers, or maybe that was just lightning thundering behind them. The piece of string that wouldn’t stop pulling at his heart had let go. And all the yearning, and hoping, and wishing came true. Everything became so confusing, he hadn’t imagined Will to even look at him with that same look of longing he’d always give him. And so God help him, if this was another cruel trick by Vecna, he’d rather just get it over with. Like ripping off a bandaid. He grabbed Will’s hands, intertwining them into his own.

Will finally pulled away, lips pink. Sometimes he wished human beings didn’t need oxygen to live, because then he could kiss Mike for longer than eternity. “If you’re… going crazy, then we’ll go crazy together. Okay?” He said firmly.

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Crazy together.”

Will tittered, “Asshole.” He held his best friend close, not wanting to let go.

A loud buzz rung above the two, the light in the Wheeler’s garage started to glow. And faintly, you could hear an echo of a voice from the other side.

—

Meanwhile, on a seemingly ordinary day in November, were two boys giving their final goodbyes to each other for the night.

“It was a seven.”

The other turned.

“The roll, it was a seven. The demogorgon, it got me.”

“Oh.”

“See you tomorrow!”

As Will biked away, a flicker of the ceiling light buzzed in the garage.

[kadextra]

so on a whim I started reading omniscient reader’s viewpoint manhwa

..and got hooked on the story so hard that I easily blasted through all available eps in less than a week. istg they put dr*gs in this thing it’s so good???? 😭

[SPOILER WARNING! big ramble ahead. if you’ve never read it, leave this post. consider checking it out you won’t be able to put it down]

lets get this out of the way first.

RAHHHHHH KIM DOKJA….. KIM DOKJA I LOVE YOU

GUYSSSSS 🥺 LISTEN. HE’S SUCH A GOOD PROTAGONIST. MY TRAUMA BOY. MY DUDE WITH THE POWER TO INFODUMP PEOPLE TO DEATH. YOU SELF-SACRIFICING IDIOT. his cunning intelligence makes him super attractive what can I say, I LOVE smart mcs with ambiguous morality and self sacrificial nature

here’s a big ✨shut your mouth✨ to every character who’s said he’s ugly- get your eyes checked, get a job get away from him (I know it’s because of the fourth wall’s filter it’s not their fault I’m just being silly)

the fourth wall is such a cool power to have. the complexity of how it acts based on his perception of fiction vs reality as the reader …. that’s very interesting and well thought out!!! how it lowkey has a consciousness too and it’s so tied into his mental state makes me want to psychoanalyze this guy even more. probably one of the most unique powers I’ve seen created and explored in a story tbh

I think the entire system of how the world works is really well done in general. constellations watching the apocalyptic bloodbath via livestream and sending donos to their favorite little guys shouldn’t work as well as it does and cracks me up so much 😭 (uriel is the best). I enjoy learning about all the irl different fables, history & mythologies too. plus doing my own research is fun! I did a deep dive through the web to learn about dokkaebi folklore lol I’m having a good time

I also related hard to how dokja read TWSA throughout his life, the story was a companion for him. got choked up bc I reflected on how much my own favorite companion stories for years mean to me. there’s been situations I’ve thought “what would (character) do?” dokja saying stuff like “what would joonghyuk do?” felt like I got called out <3 I’d probably be the same as him if my favorite characters suddenly came to life

anyways yeah I caught up with the manhwa looked online and discovered it comes from an already completed novel with over 500 chapters and the manhwa is barely a third into adapting it though it’s been releasing every week for 4 years. and that it’ll take like 10 more years to finish. I then planted my face in my hands and screamed with despair

I’ll shrivel up waiting to see what happens……………heyyy woahhhh.. whats this light of salvation ? the novel file just completed download on my phone ? that’s crazyy wow I opened it ? im scrolling it right now ? omg I’m telling myself in the mirror “pace yourself, try to space your reading out do NOT read too fast” ?

jokes aside im excited, first I’ll take some time to read back through the earlier chapters for extra context of scenes! >:D after I finish doing that…. pls pray for my self-control to try stretching this for as long as possible. I’m pumped to see what happens next with this demon king part so maybe I’ll read along with the manhwa unless I get too impatient heh

to conclude- I had no idea the fandom of orv was so passionate. while closing my eyes to spoilers, I was looking at beautiful fanart and animatics (watched this one and ascended that’s one of my fav rin songs). I can tell how much you guys love the story, there’s always going to be people like me who get interested so keep it up :D if the fandom does end up reading this, ummm *knocks on the door* hi im new

I will likely talk about it more in the future!! tagging under “#kade reads orv” ! might draw fanart on my art blog too bc brainworms <3 happy reading everyone

[ash-arts-but-sinful]

Bro how do u feel P would act w a shy lover,, like I love physical contact whether it’s sexual or not but I will not for the life of me initiate it, i get way too embarassed 😭 I love what everyone writes abt P but I can never fully imagine it happening bc I’m not one to take charge at all 💔💔💔 he’s so pretty I love him holy shit!!!

Also how have u been doing?? :3 I’m so excited for the DLC and sequel I can’t wait for more Pino content

I’m working real hard on my AU notes, art, and the discord stuff which is why I’ve been so quiet here, sorry about that! But I am SO EXCITED FOR THE DLC I WANT MORE OF MY BOY I’M ON MY KNEES MAN I’M AAAAAUUUUGGGGHHHH- because of the art work I’m wondering if we’ll be eaten by a whale or something cause that a lot of ships???

Yes, I am in pretty much the same boat as you anon so I’ll try to do us both Justice 🫡

Despite being with him for a while you can’t help your shy nature, especially when it comes to him. Sure, when he gets back from his excursions in Krat you’ll fret over him, make sure he’s okay and unharmed, but no matter how much you want to sweep him into your arms you just can’t do it.

You’ve confided in Sofia about it before and she, of course, suggested you just tell him. Everybody knew Pinocchio wasn’t the best with social cues, not yet anyway, but once he’s told what’s what he catches on fast. So, you listen to Sophia because, as ironic as it is, honesty is the best policy in this moment.

It’s easy to track him down, an embarassed apology spilling from your lips as you explain your problem. “I would love to give you affection, but the my shyness wins over too often to count.” He listens intently as he always does and you finish your rambling off with a hesitant, “Does that makes sense?”

He nods, you heave a sigh of relief.

From then on Pinocchio is there to initiate almost any form of affection, truly taking what you said to heart. It’s clear very fast that he’s either been asking Venigni for advice or he’s been reading through the romance section of the library because by the time he’s leaving again your hand is in his and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles as he gives his farewell. It leaves you red faced as you stutter out your own goodbye.

When he returns he doesn’t hesitate to sweep you into his arms, hugging you tightly and spinning you in a quick circle before placing you gently back down.

On more than one ocassion he’s snuck up behind you and wrapped you into a tight hug, pressing you firmly into chest and nuzzling his face into your hair. He’s also managed to scare the life out of you when he does it which always results in apologetic butterfly kisses.

Speaking of kisses, everytime Pinocchio kisses you it never fails to leave you flustered. On the brightside, it’s never a surprised so you’re always fully prepared when his cool lips gently press to yours. The cherry on top? Everytime you part you can gaze into his beautiful blue eyes as looks at you with all the love the world.

[lighthouseas]

hi all! i know that i haven’t posted for a while, but since the end of the year is fast approaching, i thought i’d make a post detailing my appreciation for my lovely mutuals . (if you saw this post earlier because tumblr was being a bitch, no you didn’t <3333)

anyway, without further ado- and in no particular order-

bee’s end-of-the-year MUTUAL APPRECIATION POST!!!

@hazmatazz - OHHH MAN. SILLY GUY ALERT. starting off strong with the lovely the amazing the fantabulous HAZ HAZMATAZZ. haz, being your friend and fellow Silly Squad member has been such an honor. you’re so funny and sweet and smart and make the best posts that make me giggle. and even though i don’t talk in it much, seeing so many Shenanigans go down in the discord server is seriously the funniest thing. I could just. squish you. you make me so happy and it’s an honor to be your friend. seriously hope 2024 treats you amazingly bc you deserve all of it <3333

@cannibalismyuri - SARA!!!! sara my lovely ohhh you are. the funniest. seriously. i have been reduced to Tears of laughter from posts on your blog. you have such an energy about you that is completely unmatched. even with Fandom Weirdness and the like, you’ve still pulled through and kept being your silliest self (and let me be silly with you which is awesome), and i commend you for that. aaaand not to get sappy or whatever but i really do look up to and admire you. you inspire me a lot. also, i love your new url. i want to eat it. pun intended. HAVE THE BEST 2024 EVER <3333

@qulizalfos - LIZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. everyone listen up okay. liza is the loml IF ANYONE EVEN CARESSS. liza oh my god i adore you and your endless enthusiasm. seriously your comments on tsad are comments that i look back on when i need motivation because they’re just. so sweet. you are so sweet. we’ve only been mutuals since this SUMMER and yet it feels like we’ve known each other forever. i love screaming about things with you and i love the fact that my FIC is in your BIO??? HELLOOOO??? also okay. can we talk about your writing and art. liza i cannot say ENOUGH how talented you are. if i could staple your fics and art to the entire st fandom’s forehead so they would have to look at it forever then i would. your brain is so ginormous and the way you describe things and think about things is something i could only dream of doing. literally adore everything about you and wish i could hang out with you and wayli so we could all be a little insane together <33333 love you. LOVE YOUUUU I hope 2024 is awesomesauce for you <33333333

@wayward-sherlock - SPEAKING of wayli. oh wayli. if i had time to write a 10 page essay detailing how much of an impact you have had on me i would. seriously though you are just the sweetest, kindest, and most positive person ever. seeing you blow up my notes makes me grin So Hard because like oh man. wayli likes my blog. THEEE wayli thinks i’m cool. wtfff….anyway. you are so smart and it shows in your literally breathtaking writing and analysis (ANALYSIS FIRM!!!) you’re so perceptive and it honestly blows me away. reading your writing is so mesmerizing and just. sends me on an adventure. actually just scrolling through your BLOG sends me on an adventure because you always have the best stuff on there. honestly, I just wanna give you the biggest hug and tell you how awesome you are because rambling in a tumblr post simply is not enough. all’s that to say, i’m really looking forward to this coming year that will hopefully include more screaming about fanfiction in our discord messages and more of us being friends. because i love being your friend and it’d be so awesome if one day we could hang out together and be a tad Insane. doopel dopple gang STICKS TOGETHER AMIRITE?? anyway. i love you so much and wish you all the best in 2024 <333333

@antibyler - spencer HIII i know it’s been a minute since we last talked but can i just say that it has been an HONOR being your mutual this year. you’re so cool and fun and easy to talk to and also are a Fellow NHIE Fan which makes you even cooler. don’t think i’ve ever seen a bad opinion on your blog, which i know is saying a lot but it’s true To Me okay. seriously could never ever imagine Not following spencer basiltonpitch antibyler because like. that’s some essential dash content right there. THEEE blog to ever. makes the tumblr experience about 2034549650 times better. hope 2024 treats you wonderfully, my triple b mutual WOO <3

@versa-vices - FINNIEEEE!!!!!! you are my sunshine my special sunshine you make me happyyyyyyyy when skies are grayyyy….like actually though you are such a sunshine. seeing your comments on my posts never fails to make me giggle. a Silly Squad member that’s for sure. but like. being your tumblr bestie this past year has been so much fun. hanging out on the dash together and being Slightly Unhinged in the discord messages has been one of the highlights of my year. you’re so sweet and lovely and i don’t think it would be tumblr without you (those 10 minutes where you deactivated were HARD man okay. what am i supposed to do without u :(() okay anyhoo. thank you for being the bestest ever and hope 2024 treats you well <333

@light-lanterne - angel hiii! it’s been a bit since we’ve interacted but i needed to talk about how kind and patient you’ve been throughout literally everything because tumblr can be a little much sometimes. your kindness and determination to make so many beautiful graphics is absolutely incredible. i still look back on the graphics you’ve made for my fics sometimes, and it’s just…amazing. you’re so talented both in your art and your writing. when times got tough in the Fandom, i could always count on your blog to be a cozy and warm retreat from the craziness. it’s an honor to be your mutual, and i hope 2024 treats you kindly, because you seriously deserve it <33

@booksandpaperss - ELLI HIII!! holy shit one of my oldest mutuals. here when the ancient scrolls were written. elli , you have made my fandom experience so much more enjoyable. what with your huge brain and amazing takes, you always keep things real and i admire that about you. you’re also just. so easy to talk to. both because you’re ridiculously funny and also because you’re so nice to me like what. i love Discussing things with you, especially when it felt like we were sitting in a corner sipping tea and having a grand old time while the entire fandom went batshit. uscore fr. also, your comments on tsad…dude…they made me and STILL make me tear up. you read everything with such an attentive eye and then give the sweetest compliments on it. it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. you’re just. so awesome okay. never forget that. hope u have a wonderful 2024 <3333

@karenchildress - hi jo!!!!!!!!!! i know we don’t interact as much but like. you’re such a joy to see on the dash i’m being so fr right now. how are you so funny like some of your posts still make me laugh to this day. you also keep things Real which i appreciate a lot, people tend not to do that nowadays T-T. we need more jo karenchildresses in the st fandom i think. things would improve marginally. anyway. keep being cool and fun and hope 2024 brings you much joy <3

@homohabu - oh man you’re just. you’re so nice. your blog is so inviting and has the loveliest colors all over it that make me very happy. you’ve always been so lovely to me and it makes me smile. you’re also another one of my oldest mutuals…and you’ve still stuck around through everything. thank you for having an awesome blog and being an awesome person! hope 2024 is good for you!!!!!!!!

@kuntniss - sierra!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! hiiiii it’s been a minute but can i just say that your blog makes me so so so super happy whenever i look at it. both your reblogs and original posts are just. great vibes. great vibes all around. you’ve been so nice to me this past year and it’s seriously been so wonderful interacting with you and looking forward to seeing your posts. being your mutual is so fun. i hope 2024 brings you so many good things, you deserve all of them <33333333

@weirdo09  - cade! i know you haven’t been online in a while but i just wanted to say that you’ve been such a wonderful friend to me this past year. you’re so creative and i loved hearing your ideas in my inbox and getting tagged in your wonderful. i hope you’re doing okay now, because you were honestly such a joy to see on the dash and in my notes. also, your ever changing themes were always a nice surprise to come across when i opened your blog, lol. hope 2024 treats you well :)

@holyvirgilscriptures - virgil !!!! oh my god i adore your blog so badddd like. i could seriously scroll through it forever it’s just banger after banger after banger. you always have the best takes on like. Everything. also FELLOW TAWOG BROTHER IN ARMS HELLOOOO !!!! BEST TASTE IN MEDIA AWARD GOES TO YOU MY FRIEND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! anyway. you have made this year so so so enjoyable just with the Existence of your blog. this coming year i hope we can interact a bit more because you’re super awesome <333 may 2024 bring you many good things! 

@ollsonline - oliver <3333 my lovely. since we became mutuals you have been nothing but the sweetest, kindest, friendliest person to me. you’re so welcoming to everyone and it absolutely warms my heart. you’ve been such an amazing friend to me this year and we should totally talk more because you’re super cool and awesome also!!! thank you for being the best and i hope 2024 treats you kindly <3

okay that’s all i’ve got! to any mutuals i did not get to mention: i love you so much. you have made The Tumblr Experience that much more bearable with your endless kindness. i love all of you so much, and am wishing you a happy new year through the screen! MWAH!!!!!!!

[nyoomfruits]

im sorry but 80 green-eyed epiphany just screams max about charlessss w 58 accidental eavesdropping maybe??

once again sorry this is so late ;-; still slowly going through all the prompts that are still in my inbox!!

80. green-eyed epiphany + 58. accidental eavesdropping

After the race, after a truly disappointing P6 that should've been a win, and after all the media obligations are done, Max goes to find Charles. Or, well. He doesn’t realize that’s what he’s doing until he does find him, leaning against the wall of the Ferrari motorhome, slightly hidden from view.

He takes a step forward, towards Charles, planning on asking him about that overtake on lap 36, about if he had struggled with the apex on turn 12 as well, when he hears another voice, one decidedly not Charles.

“Your tire management was immaculate,” whoever says, and then another guy comes into view as he leans his arm next to Charles’s head against the motorhome, moving ever so slightly into Charles’s space, and into Max’s view.

The guy is objectively hot. Classic tall, dark, and handsome, with black hair and broad shoulders that are clad in a leather jacket that would look tacky on anyone else but on him just looks effortlessly cool. Max frowns. The comment seems a bit on the nose, if anything. Almost a bit tacky.

But Charles. Charles honest to god blushes at the guy’s words, stuttering out a thank you as he stares into his eyes, seemingly mesmerized.

And that’s. That’s a problem.

The guy keeps talking, compliments Charles on his race pace and asks him about the overtake he did on Max on lap 36, and Max’s frown deepens as Charles seems to hang on to his every word, responding enthusiastically to every question.

Max can’t help but note how good Charles looks, race suit zipped down to his waist, hanging down to reveal his tight fireproofs underneath, his hair sticking in every which direction, his face still a little flushed from the race. But the way he’s looking at the guy, with an almost love struck expression on his face, has something ugly churn in Max’s gut.

He realizes, all of a sudden, why this is bothering him so much.

He wants to be the one talking to Charles right now, leaning into his space, making him blush, making him laugh, smiling at him the way that guy is right now, leaning in to-

Max feels his stomach churn again as the guy leans closer and closer, with the clear intention to kiss Charles. And for a second there, it looks like Charles is going to kiss him back.

But then suddenly Charles glances up, and makes direct eye contact with Max. Max, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, abruptly turns around and starts walking away, even though he has no idea where he is going.

Charles comes after him, because of course Charles comes after him. He grabs Max’s arm, forces him to turn around. Max frowns at him, but lets himself be stopped anyway, doesn’t rip his arm from Charles’s grip.

“Hey,” Charles says. “Hey, I was looking for you.”

Max raises an eyebrow, can’t help the venom in his voice as he says, “Are you sure? Because you looked pretty busy.”

Charles flushes, awkwardly rubs the back of his head. “Listen, what you just saw, that wasn’t. I’m not. Well, I mean, I uh-“

“Don’t sweat it,” Max says, effectively cutting off Charles’s rambling. “I’m not going to tell anyone. That’s what you are worried about, right?” Charles blinks at him. “I mean, if anything I kind of get it,” Max says, feeling like he needs to reassure Charles somehow. “He’s not really my type, but I guess he uh. Is kind of hot? So I’d see why you’d uh. Want to kiss him.” Max internally cringes at his words, and for the first time in his entire F1 career, he desperately wishes for a reporter to show up to save them from this trainwreck of a conversation.

Charles’s face goes to a complicated range of emotion. “He, uh, looked like you.” He eventually settles on, voice soft and a little hesitant. “That’s why. That’s why I was going to kiss him. Because he looked like you.”

Max frowns, desperately trying to process the information he’s receiving. “What are you talking about? He looked nothing like me.” He says, thinking back to tall, dark, and handsome as he leaned over Charles, and then quickly waving the memory away again.

Charles shakes his head. “You didn’t- It was the eyes. They were the same shade of blue. And the way he was talking to me, about racing, he was so blunt about it, too. For a moment I felt like I could pretend. That it was you.”

“Oh,” Max says, eyes a little wide. “Oh,” he repeats, a little more urgently.

“Yeah?” Charles asks, a little soft, a little uncertain, and Max has never wanted to kiss anyone more. But he can’t, not right now, not right here, when the paddock is still so busy an anyone could spot them.

“Yeah,” he says, and it has to be enough, for now.

(They’ll have plenty of time to talk more, later, in the privacy of a hotel room. They’ll have time for other things then, too. But for now, there’s just the blinding smile on Charles’s face, and the soft brush of his knuckles against Max’s cheek, before they go their separate ways.)