#but I hope ya'll like it!

[blametheeditor]

Tempting Fate | Chapter 1

Run Down: The disappearance of Fazbear Entertianment's original owners has left the company declining with every year. Afton Robotics is out of business, only one location is in operation, and night guards have been disappearing. But why should Mike Schmidt care? He wouldn't, if it wasn't for the fact he was dragged kicking and screaming back into the center of it all.

Content Warnings: Cursing. Body horror. Gore. Mentions of death and murder. Darker themes and tones

Canon lore, in this household?!

___________________________

The more Scott has been turned to when it comes to making decisions for Fazbear Entertainment, the more he’s faced with the fact he never had a clue how it worked in the first place. 

Granted, he was never supposed to. Help out wherever he can of course, but never run the business. This is Henry and William’s pride and joy. Something they wanted to share with the people they love and care for, but always at a distance. Because friends and family always get messy when dealing with money. 

So where the hell are the actual owners.

Trust him, Scott has tried everything in order to get in contact with Henry and William. He should’ve stopped a while ago, a few years to be exact if he’s being completely honest with himself, but he holds onto the hope they will come after disappearing off the face of the earth. Especially when Henry came to him even though they barely knew each other. Scott was William’s best friend, however, so that meant he could be trusted. 

Trusted to look after the business until they could return, in which he would willingly sign everything back over to them. But it’s been five years. William disappeared two years before that. Henry disappeared two years after making Scott the sole owner. Absolutely no sign either of them will ever return. 

Scott sighs as he slumps in his chair, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling. Taking advantage of the very few moments where he can just be alone with his thoughts. They are dangerous, however, so maybe it’s a blessing he rarely has them. 

Because he starts thinking about selling the company. Or at the very least signing it over to someone who actually knows how to run a business in the children industry. Maybe even just leaving without a word. 

He never wanted this. William would be disappointed in how his best friend has been caring for the thing that kept him going after that horrific day. 

Scott jolts as a knock suddenly echos through his office, confused before jumping out of his chair to answer it when he remembers Jeremy is working a shift. 

“Hello, hello,” he greets. Expecting an angry parent telling him about an incident that at minimum involved cussing in front of children, at maximum there being a fistfight. Possibly one of the waiters or cooks telling him there’s yet another thing needing to be fixed. 

It’s neither. Instead there’s a young man standing nervously at his door, hood pulled up to cover his features. 

“Sorry for interrupting, Uncle Scott,” reveals who it is, however. Despite the shaking voice and acting like the police will come knocking at any moment, a bright smile spreads across Scott’s face. 

“You never interrupt, Mike,” the sandy haired man says earnestly. That earns him the head tilting back to show familiar features near identical to his father’s. Something Mike hated for a while considering the constant comments of looking like William Afton even after he did everything to erase those connections. At least those have all since gone away with the eldest Afton himself gone. “Come in, before someone drags me into something.” 

The young man smiles as he quickly walks into the office. Scott doesn’t miss the fact it doesn’t reach Mike’s eyes, meaning he opens his arms for a hug once the door’s locked. One that’s immediately accepted, even if it mostly one sided as he’s simply leaned into. 

“I take it your trip didn’t go well?” Scott asks. 

Mike takes a sharp inhale of breath. Holds it before sighing long and loud. “No, no it didn’t.” 

“Would you like to talk about it?” 

Instead of a huff and sarcastic ‘no, that’s definitely not why I came here in the first place’, Mike only gently breaks the hug. Blue eyes refusing to meet Scott’s worried gaze. 

“...something happened at the sister location.” 

God, please don’t tell him his nephew really is running from law enforcement. 

There’s a few moments of silence. Of Mike wanting to say more, but not being able to. Scott then gently pushes the young man into one of the chairs. Doesn’t try and coax the story out, simply walks over to the coffee machine he installed strictly to avoid needing to leave the room in order to refill his fifth mug for the day, starts up a fresh pot. They both sit in silence as the sounds and smell of coffee brewing fill the room. 

This was something William never understood with Michael. He might’ve loved his son, but the man didn’t realize the kid didn’t talk about his thoughts and feelings like the eldest Afton did and could. Michael needed a moment to be able to just sit and think before talking about something like wanting his dad to be at home more often. Or get out the words for an apology. 

Scott wishes he could’ve done more before. If he knew the problems going on in the Afton household, maybe he could’ve stopped everything from happening. If he had, William most likely wouldn’t have disappeared, and Mike would still be an Afton. 

He can’t go back in time. But he can certainly help now. 

Mike finally takes a deep breath before clearing his throat. “The Funtimes are all destroyed.” 

Scott doesn’t let any emotion show at the news. Mike had said he would be going to Afton Robotics to shut it all down. Said he thought about it for a long time, and even though that was William’s last known project, there weren’t any good memories attached to the animatronics. There wasn’t anything to do with them either, not with Circus Baby’s Pizza World having been shut down several years ago. 

He’s not disappointed, far from it. Scott can’t lie and say it doesn’t send a shot through his heart knowing something his best friend worked on is gone forever, though. But that isn’t what Mike needs, so he doesn’t voice his feelings. There’s still Fazbear Entertainment after all. 

“I actually debated not going through with shutting everything down. Especially with how long the elevator ride was. Gave me a lot of time to just...think. But then it just got weird. Like crawling through vents weird. I know Afton Robotics was barely hanging on, but...it was so much worse than I thought it’d be.” 

Scott allows a confused expression. He had heard the same thing about there being quite a few problems, especially considering it was his own signature that pulled the plug of no longer letting the Funtimes get rented out anymore. He made sure there was at least one person visiting it weekly to make sure the facility was still running, but there wasn’t a lot of money to spare with upkeep. Yet he was never given a report about needing to crawl through vents in order to get to other areas. Hopefully Mike wasn’t doing it without actually needing to. 

“The worst part was the Funtimes didn’t act like the other animatronics,” Mike murmurs, eyes locked on the ground as he remembers. “It was surreal, Uncle Scott. Instead of just playing recorded lines, they were taunting me. And HandUnit actually betrayed me. Like, multiple times.” 

Now he’s getting worried. Scott knows this must’ve been a big shock for Mike. Such a big decision and the subsequent actions that’d need to be taken no matter what was chosen would be hard on anyone, and for the young man even more so given his past. But the animatronics built to entertain children taunting him? The AI designed by William to help perform any assigned duties betraying him? These are nothing but robots. It’s not possible for such things to happen. 

It’s honestly a little concerning. And it only makes it worse when Scott realizes that Mike sounds like Jeremy whenever the man starts spouting off conspiracy theories about the animatronics coming to life to kill the night guards for revenge. 

“Something happened when I scooped the last one,” his nephew continues before it can be asked when was the last time he slept. “She, it- I can’t even explain. I, I-I changed.” 

Scott stares into Mike’s eyes as they tear up. Glances down for a moment at shaking hands held out pleadingly. The poor kid looking lost, hopeless. 

That’s when he realizes this must’ve been such an emotional toll. To hate your father is one thing. To destroy his life’s work is another. Even though it may have seemed like the best thing to do and it wasn’t done out of revenge, it’s something that would tear anyone with a kind heart in half. And Michael has always been that kind of person no matter what his past says. 

It makes him feel ten times better knowing Mike isn’t being hunted down by the law. And yet the young man not knowing if he made the right decision can arguably be worse. Because Scott can post bail and hire the greatest lawyer in the state. He can’t fix a broken soul. 

“You know there’s nothing that could possibly happen to make me not love you, Mike,” Scott confides. 

There’s a moment of silence until Mike visibly relaxes. “I know. I know. I just, how would anyone react to someone getting their insides ripped out and replaced with a sentient machine?” 

Well that’s...certainly one way to put how Mike feels. 

“I might not have felt exactly like that before” Scott chuckles. “Mostly just my heart being ripped out, but this was never going to be easy. I know it feels like there’s a big hole inside you, but I’m really proud of you, Mike.” 

Scott blinks when it almost looks like his nephew’s eyes turn violet for a moment, but it disappears in an instant. Hopefully color changing contacts aren’t becoming a trend or else he’ll start thinking he’s seeing things. 

“No, I don’t feel like I’ve changed, I am literally some fucked up cyborg zombie,” Mike almost pleads as he gestures to himself. “I’m not human.” 

Scott hesitates, worried he might accidentally upset his nephew. This isn’t the first time Mike has called himself a monster. Though giving a detailed description on the exact type is new. But it’s been years since the last talk, and facing such a horrible past all over again is hard to endure, especially alone. It resurfaces all of the painful memories that have long since been healed, but the scars never leave. 

“You’re not a monster, Mike.” 

The young man looks like he’s been electrocuted. There’s a long moment of silence as he watches Scott for a moment. Suddenly looks down at the ground as his voice goes soft. “Even if everyone else says I am?” 

“Yes,” is his immediate response. Just like every time before when he was asked. “They don’t know the whole story. They don’t know you. And if you are saying it, you need to remember you’re wrong.” 

“I swear you actively try to make me cry every time I talk to you. Cruel and unusual punishment,” his nephew grouses after a moment. Not happy, but not as tense. Almost completely relaxed compared to when he first entered the office. Sounds more like himself. 

“That’s my job,” the sandy haired man smiles. “How good did I do this time?” 

“You failed, eyes aren’t even misty.” 

“Don’t challenge me, Mike.” 

“Or what, old man,” earns him the smirk he’s been waiting for. “Seems like you’ve lost your edge.” 

Scott rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t even trying and you were already complaining.” 

“Critiquing,” Mike corrects. “So, I heard your night guards keep quitting.” 

That’s just wonderful. If the person who actively tries his hardest not to hear any news on how Fazbear Entertainment is loosing employees left and right, then that means the entire country knows Scott has no idea what he’s doing. 

“Do you actually want to know, or just making small talk?” 

“I actually want to know.” 

Scott doesn’t know if it’s a good thing for Mike to genuinely be interesting in his father’s company, or a really bad one. The only issue is it always having been impossibly hard to tell what the young man’s emotions are from expressions alone. Hopefully this wasn’t spawned out of guilt. 

“I don’t know what changed. A year ago, everything was fine. But recently people have just been quitting during their shifts. I’ve done everything I could think of to stop the excessive turn over, try to contact them and ask if there were any incidents. Yet it’s like they just vanish.” 

Scott swears Mike’s eyes actually turn violet this time as the young man straightens up. “Need someone on the inside to check it out for you?” 

What? 

“No one knows we’re associated,” Mike shrugs, because Scott does nothing to hide his genuine shock from the suggestion. That’s also not why his jaw is on the floor and his nephew knows it. “No one could guess either since we didn’t come from the same family tree. I’ll join the night shift and see what’s going on.” 

“Who are you and what have you done with Mike?” 

Scott actually grows a little worried when he’s given a humorless loud laugh. “Oh, this isn’t to help Fazbear’s. This just gets me unsupervised access with the animatronics.” 

“You will not destroy our only working animatronics!” 

“But I got a taste for destroying robots designed to entertain children!” 

“And that’s the only taste you get!” Scott exclaims, hoping Mike is just trying to get him riled up it’s not an actual threat it was promised a degree in engineering would be used for good God damn it. “I swear to God you will regret it if you get within ten feet of them!” 

“Attach a screwdriver to a fifteen foot pole, got it,” Mike grins. He’s quick to lift his hands up in surrender as a death glare is aimed. “If it’d really help you, I don’t mind joining the shift. Promise not to touch the animatronics.” 

Scott hesitates at the serious tone. At Mike looking genuine to fulfill the favor if it’s accepted. Concerned just how much of a toll it was going to the sister location. If there’s truth in the AI turning against any employee that went down there, or if it was just stress making it bigger than it really was. 

“You know you can just say you missed me.” 

“Pass. I prefer keeping my promise of giving you a heart attack one day.” 

Scott pulls Mike into another hug. “Well I missed you.” 

He knew there wouldn’t be any words said back, but a hand gently pats his back to say the sentiment is shared. And for once, the young man let’s him have as long of a moment as he wants. So he takes it. Happy to finally have Mike home. Away from anything that can hurt him without Scott there to help. 

“What do you think about starting this Friday?” Scott asks, still not making any move to end the hug. When Mike realizes his generosity is being taken advantage of, the standing figure turns into an almost limp one. The sandy haired man only hugs tighter so escape is impossible. “You will need to be trained, so you’ll be working with Fritz for a week, but I think you’ll like him. He’s the only one who’s stayed for more than a month.” 

“I can last a week and give you a report at the end of it.” 

“You’re my favorite nephew.” 

“I’m your only one, old man,” Mike grumbles. “Now free me, I want to steal a pizza from the kitchen before heading home.” 

“Please don’t take one that’s going to a table.” 

“No promises.” 

Scott sighs as he finally frees Mike. Smiles down at the young man. “Go order a pizza and say you’re a new hire so they won’t charge you. I’ll get the paperwork taken care of so you’re set for Friday.” 

“Thanks boss.” 

“And I will be asking Fritz if you so much as look at the animatronics!” 

Mike gives his uncle the middle finger as he exits the office. Carefully closes the door. Groans softly as he puts his forehead against the wall. 

Well that could’ve gone better. 

I warned he wouldn’t believe you.

The sentient machine currently acting as his internal organs doesn’t have to rub it in. He knew it’d sound too farfetched to immediately be taken seriously, but Mike thought Scott would laugh at him. Not think he’s being metaphorical. How would he know the old man would immediately get sentimental instead of panicked! 

Then again, it might be for the better. Scott looks tired and on the edge of wiping his hands clean of everything. Mike doesn’t want to add something else to top it all off. And learning his nephew had his guts scooped out might actually kill him. 

Nope, he’d rather have his uncle by his side even if the full situation isn’t known. Because he loves Scott. Would do anything for the man, including working for his father’s company after swearing to never step foot in a Fazbear location if he didn’t need to. 

That just means he has to figure out the whole never going within fifty feet of a metal detector on his own. Great. 

I can answer any questions you have.

Yeah, he’d rather pass. He’s not trusting spaghetti wires with anything, including the assumption all information given to be truthful. 

Mike takes a deep breath. Brushes back his black hair to fix his hood to make sure it covers most of his face since he learned the hard way certain lighting reveals the fact he’s a zombie. Finally turns away from Scott’s office to make his way to the kitchen. 

Is forced to pull himself up short as a slightly taller figure steps in front of him. Wants to snap how irresponsible it is to assume someone doesn’t have inhuman strength and could accidentally kill them if he hadn’t stopped in time. 

Mike holds his tongue, looking up at a man with curly brown hair. Only glances at odd scares decorating his forehead before raising an eyebrow. “Can I help you?” 

As if he doesn’t look extremely suspicious walking around a children's restaurant after coming in through the back door while actively trying to hide his face. 

“I know what you are.” 

Mike’s blood runs cold...or was that replaced with oil. Ask that later, give attitude now. “Excuse me?” 

“I know what you are,” the man repeats ominously, grey eyes seeming to stare right into Mike’s soul. “And I’m only going to say this once. Fuck with Scott, and you’ll have to deal with me.” 

So the ‘what’ was intentional. He thought he was recognized as an Afton but no, it’s worse. Someone knows he’s not human. How, he doesn’t know, but it seems like his secret is safe as long as he doesn’t fuck with Scott. Which, depending on the definition, might be an issue. 

How does a complete stranger believe it though if they did find out? Not even Scott took him seriously. 

“Oh I’m sorry, is it Freddy tradition to try and intimidate new hires, or are you just an asshole?” 

“Both,” the man smirks. “If you can’t handle it though, then you won’t last a goddamn week.” 

“Well unless your name is Fritz, I won’t be seeing you anytime soon,” Mike growls as he walks away. “Nice meeting you, dick.” 

“Nice knowing you, bastard.” 

And ouch, the randomly chosen moniker hits a little too close to home. Such a wonderful cherry on top of everything else. 

He tries to shrug it off. Walks up to the counter and orders meat lover’s pizza instead of snatching a pizza waiting to be taken to a table. Waits in the corner despite the fact he look suspicious as all hell. Too drained to really care. 

...how did he know? 

The operation was not recorded. Via video, audio, or observation. 

Oh, fascinating. It’s not like someone can’t take one good look at him and realize yep, that’s a walking corpse. 

He may know you aren’t human, but it’s impossible for him to know the details.

Oh. Okay, fine, that’s a good point. Meaning there’s no proof to be spread around if Mike makes an enemy of the man. He has no intentions of ever talking to him again. Though, if he was protective of Scott, there might be discussions concerning the weird new hire. Ones that makes his uncle realize Mike meant it when he said literally. 

So, hypothetically, what can the robot inside him do? 

We can go over the blueprints you took from Afton Robotics.

Guess it’s a date.

[flowerakatsuka]

LET'S HEAR IT FOR OUR NEETS!!

[ruubesz-draws]

Godzilla GIJINKA!!!!! (Finally)

I'm trying different ways to add colour to these drawings Failed miserably... :')

I redesigned Mothra and Scylla. Shimo and Tiamat were fun to design!

I'm also going to post the full profile/infos about my gijinkas later too (Hopefully soon)

[melit0n]

Save me...save me Jaws key change save me

Credits: Eric Mulherin -> yt

[rottmnt-residuum]

part 12

lol i forgot how i did the glow half way through

⇇ | ⇽ | index | ⇾

[daily-odile]

Odile patting Molly Epithet Erased on the head, you know why

have two bc i care them

[darth-maya]

hold on, I have to make sure I look cute before I go drive for 20 minutes and immediately come back home

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. xiv

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter | chapter summary: The final chapter pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 9.2k (I love being insane) chapter warnings: SMUT (18+only) - unprotected sex. Insecurity/Jealousy. Angst/arguments. Discussions of death, blood and injuries. Alcohol & Marijuana use. Fluff. Bisexual reader (happy pride ya'll!). As always please dm for more specifics. a/n: This could probs use another round of proofreading but it would've delayed this even longer sooooo.... Here we go! I feel pretty emo right now and I might make a more in-depth post about my thoughts at a later date bc I just finished writing this in a hot daze so I can't put all my thoughts coherently together. But I just wanna say thank you to everyone who supported and gave love to this story. This is by far the most popular fic I've ever written, and I don't really know how? Or what I did to deserve all the love but I just want you to know how much I appreciate it. Thank you for sticking with me through all the angst and delayed updates and everything. I'll never forget you and I'll never forget Joel x Reader!! Thank you so much, I hope the finale lives up to your expectations! ❤️

**I DO NOT HAVE A TAGLIST. Please follow @ftcwriting and turn on notifs if you would like to be notified when I update my works :) **

I’m not the kind of man who tends to socialize I seem to lean on old familiar ways….

-May 16, 2024-

“Are you sure you’re okay if I leave you here alone?” 

Ethan’s voice jolts you out of a daze, and you blink your eyes open, realizing that you’d dozed off while sitting upright in a patio chair, the cheesy romance novel you’d been reading still lying open on your lap. Turning to look over your shoulder, you find him standing with one foot on the deck, and one foot still inside, cut in half by the sliding glass door.

Clearing your throat, you straighten up and nod. “Of course. I’ll be fine.”

Ethan studies you carefully, like he’s not entirely convinced. He’s been hesitant to leave you alone unless it’s absolutely necessary – only stepping away from the house to go on patrol shifts and to bring home meals from the mess hall. Recovery has made you feel like a burden to him – to all your friends in the community, really. Everyone….well, almost everyone, has been supportive, but you’ve never been comfortable being openly vulnerable.

Unfortunately, it’s too hard to deny the pain that you’ve been in since the accident, the trouble you have getting around, the exhaustion that clings no matter how many long naps and twelve-hour nights of sleep you get. According to the doctors, being so tired is just part of recovery – rest is important, but the concoction of pain medication you’ve been prescribed only makes your drowsiness and confusion worse. It had been a big deal that tonight you’d mustered the energy to drag yourself outside to sit in the fresh air. 

“I’m fine,” you assure Ethan, once again. “Have fun on your date.”

“It’s not really a date,” he says, almost a little too quickly. “We’re just hanging out.”

“Right,” you say, matter-of-factly. “Do I know who this person is?”

Ethan looks at his feet. “You remember the day this shit happened?” he asks, gesturing towards you. “Before you left on patrol, the girl that said hi to me? It’s her. Her name is Alex.”

“Oh?” you tilt your head, give him a small smile. “She was cute. How’d you ask her out?”

“Well,” he begins, scratching the back of his neck. “I may have…uh, gotten some advice.”

“You didn’t think to ask me?” you’re able to muster up a small smile.

“I would’ve, I just…..” he shakes his head. “It seemed stupid…with everything you have going on.”

“It’s not stupid,” you say, feeling a wave of guilt. Even though he’s the one looking after you, you haven’t spoken to him much about anything going on in his life. In fact, you haven’t really spoken to anyone in a long time, beyond thank you’s and blanket statements like I’m doing better. You feel disconnected, and more lonely than ever. If you ever get enough energy to leave your house, you expect most of the people in the community to have forgotten you exist. “Who’d you ask?”

“Uhm….” Ethan runs a hand through his long dark hair, shifts his weight. “….I’ve been assigned on patrol with Joel Miller a lot lately….so….”

You almost laugh when he uses Joel’s full name. Joel has been such a huge part of your life – sometimes the hero, sometimes the villain – that you don’t need to hear his last name to know who Ethan’s talking about. You could know a thousand Joel’s, and he’d still be the first person that came to mind. But Joel is still a sore subject, and Ethan knows it, which is why you suspect he’s avoided telling you this in the first place. You feel your eyebrows knit together, only able to let out an unenthused. “Oh.”

“I just, you know….he’s a guy. And it sounds like you even liked him at one point so….he must know something, right?” 

“That was a long time ago,” you say quickly, regardless of the fact that he’s right.

It’s probably not fair to blame Joel for everything that has happened to you. You know this, deep down. But you’ve been so helpless and isolated since you’ve woken up in that hospital bed that you’re desperate to find someone to hold accountable. And Joel hadn’t visited you in the hospital once. By this point, he’s abandoned you so many times that your resentment feels justified, even if your current state is not directly his fault. Because it was you, after all, who had walked into the path of those men, too angry to think clearly, too weak to take them down alone. The only person you can blame is yourself, and you really don’t want to.

“Did he tell you to take her out on patrol, make her cry, and almost get her killed?”

Ethan clicks his tongue, looks down, almost ashamed. “No. He did not.”

“You should be careful with Joel,” you warn.

“I was…” Ethan says. “But I don’t think it’s that simple. I think he’s actually alright.” 

“So you’re friends with him now,” you state, hoping he refutes. But instead, he looks up at you, frowns, and lifts his chin.

“What happened to you was horrible. It shouldn’t have happened. And yeah, maybe you think he’s the reason you almost died…. I don’t know the specifics so you can believe whatever you want. But I know that he’s the reason you’re still alive.” Ethan’s voice breaks, and you feel tears brimming your eyes before he continues. “He brought you back here, he donated his blood, he-”

“What?” you cut him off.

“What do you mean, what?” Ethan asks. “He was the only person there who had your blood type. You would’ve died if he didn’t. They didn’t tell you this?” 

“Whatever it took to make him feel less guilty, sounds like,” you say, dismissively.

Something hot burns in your veins, something that must have always been there since you woke up, but you’re only feeling it now. It’s unsettling, Joel being a part of you that way. Your lives had already seemed intertwined enough already. But now, he’s inescapable.

“Well, he stayed by your side every night while you were asleep. Fuck, I mean, he was probably there just as often as I was. He made sure I ate, and slept and showered and… and he never once asked for anything in return. He cares about you as much as I do, clearly, so I don’t think it’s wrong to think he’s a good guy….”

You must not care about me that much, you want to say, but you stop yourself. Because it’s not true, and you’d only be saying it to hurt him. You have nothing to defend yourself with, no way to convince him otherwise, and so you just stare at him until he shakes his head and slips back inside.

Ethan is stubborn, he always has been. And it’s a special kind of stubbornness, fueled by anger – so common in most of the young people you meet these days. You understand why they’re all like this. When you’re robbed of your childhood – you get stuck there….waiting….. Like someday you’ll have a chance to do it all over again, regardless of how obvious it is that you won’t. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-May 25, 2024-

Things get better, albeit slowly. You begin to wean off the pain medication, which makes you more alert. It’s still difficult to leave your house, but you can move around it more easily, and you don’t spend all your days sleeping. Luckily, you aren’t as stir-crazy as you’d been expecting. 

One afternoon, Ellie Williams shows up on your doorstep with a bag full of groceries. 

“Maria wanted me to bring these to you,” she says when you open the door. “She told me to tell you she’ll be over tomorrow, but she wanted me to give you these to tide you over.”

“That’s very nice. Thank you for bringing them to me,” you try to take the bag from her hands, but she steps back just a little, like she’s unsure if you should be carrying anything. You let your hands drop to your sides. “Would you like to come in?” 

Ellie hesitates for a split second, adjusting the bag in her arms, and then nods. “Sure.” 

Stepping to the side, you allow her into the home. Because of how warm it is outside, you’ve opened all the windows to let the breeze through. 

“Sorry for the mess,” you say, Ellie following you into the living room. There are stacks of books and pill bottles with instructions scattered on your countertop. You haven’t swept the floors in awhile and all the hard surfaces are covered in a thin layer of dust. It’s not really that bad, but you don’t have the energy or strength to be on your feet for long – let alone to clean the house. 

“I don’t mind,” Ellie says. “It’s not even that bad. I don’t know why older people worry about leaving your house messy and shit….no offense.”

“There was a time it used to matter,” you tell her. “And I see where you’re coming from, but my thing is – if you’re going to live somewhere, you should do what you can to make yourself feel comfortable.” 

Ellie purses her lips, as if you’ve made a good point but she doesn’t know how to answer. Instead, you continue. “Can I get you anything? Water?” 

“No, I’m okay,” she puts the bag on your kitchen counter.

“You can sit if you’d like,” you tell her. “I just need a moment to put these away.”

When you walk into your living room a few minutes later, she’s hovering near your record player, looking through the vinyls. The turntable was already in the house when you’d arrived years ago, but it was buried in the closet and broken. Ethan had managed to fix it after a little troubleshooting and scavenging for parts. Now, you both were always looking for records to bring home, and had amassed quite the eclectic collection – jazz, funk, hip-hop, and everything in between. 

“Wow,” Ellie says, running her fingers along the shelved records. “You found all these?”

“Some of them were already here. But yeah. Ethan and I are always on the lookout on patrol. I can play you something. What do you like?”

“Eighties, I think,” she says. “But…I also haven’t heard as much.” 

“Well here,” you thumb through the records, pull out a worn copy of Speaking In Tongues. “How about some Talking Heads?” 

You pass the record over to her, and she stares at you blankly. It’s only then that you realize — she’s never used a record player before. There’s a familiar pang of sadness before you show her how. 

“Are you feeling better?” Ellie eyes you wearily once the music starts, and you settle onto the couch, feeling a little worn out after being on your feet.

“Yes,” you say. “I’m older now, so it seems like healing takes a lot more time.”

Ellie nods, then bobs her head to the music a little. “This is better than most of the stuff Joel likes.” 

“Oh yeah,” you smirk, and instinctually, you recall his enthusiasm for all things old-school country. “I remember that,” you say softly.

With so much time on your hands lately, you’ve found yourself thinking of Joel a lot, reminiscing on the time you’d spent with him and Sarah. What Ethan had told you about him staying by your side was definitely making you reconsider your assessment of him, even if you were still hesitant. It was probably a trap to think you’d ever be able to feel those things with him again, but if remembering them brought you comfort, you weren’t going to resist it. 

“You’re more than welcome to come over to listen anytime,” you offer, and she nods excitedly. 

Ellie stays for longer than you expect. You talk a fair bit. She tells you about what she’s learning in school – but mostly how ‘fucking useless’ it is. She wanders around your living room and pokes through your stuff without asking, but you don’t think to stop her – you just answer her questions and let her be curious.

Eventually, the sun dips below the horizon, and she excuses herself to go home, insisting that Joel will ‘fucking kill her’ if she’s out too late. Even though you’re exhausted after entertaining her for a few hours, you find it feels nice. Being on house arrest, essentially, had left your starved for connection outside Maria and Ethan.

You see her out the door before returning to your refrigerator to look for something to eat. Ethan will be back from patrol any minute, so it may be nice to make him something even if you have almost no energy.

But when there’s another knock on your front door, you’re shocked to see who you find staring on your porch. 

Joel.

You almost forget to speak at the sight of him. It’s been weeks since your accident and he might as well have moved away from Jackson since you hadn’t seen him at all. 

“Hey,” you say, tentatively, taking him in. He seems preoccupied – cheeks flushed, hair rumpled, and out of breath, like he had run all the way to get here.

“Have you seen Ellie?” he asks, not even greeting you in return. “I’ve looked everywhere and I-

“You just missed her,” you cut him off, not because you’re trying to dismiss him, but because he's clearly distressed. “I’m surprised you didn’t see her on your way over.”

Joel sighs, eyes closing in relief. “Thank God.” For a second, you glimpse the frazzled and overworked father you used to know. “She stayed out too late, had me worried sick.” 

“She’s fine,” you say. “Although she did say you might kill her if she didn’t get home soon.” 

Joel gives you an almost imperceptible smile, but seems mostly irritated by Ellie’s suggestion. “I would do no such thing.” He shakes his head and takes two steps backwards. “Thank you. Didn’t mean to be a bother.” 

Your mind floats to a memory of Joel on your front porch, late getting home from work and looking for Sarah, and you can’t help but feel a bit of sadness and longing for a simpler time, a surge of affection. 

Joel is halfway down your front porch steps when you speak again. “You aren’t bothering me.”

He pauses, turns to look over his shoulder. There’s something he wants to say, you can feel it, and you step outside, letting the door fall shut behind you and remaining huddled against the siding, and he turns to face you fully, sighing. “I’ve been meaning to stop by, actually….” 

“Oh…really?” you can’t keep the surprise from your voice, and he notices.

“Yeah,” Joel rubs his fingers together, a nervous habit of his you know all too well. “Yeah. I- well, I wanted to apologize to you.”

You’re so startled by the words you can’t answer right away. But the split second of hesitation causes Joel to continue, looking to fill the empty space. 

“I’ve been waiting to find the right thing to say….but it doesn’t seem like that’ll ever happen. I’m not even sure I know where to start.” 

“Oh,” is all you can manage, still taken aback. The only thing that doesn’t surprise you about his admission is the sincerity. You could say a lot of things about Joel, but he isn’t a liar. He always tells the truth. Maybe it’s why he pulled away from you to begin with. It’s easier than the alternative – spending time with you, which would force him to be honest. For how much you’ve changed, you’d probably do the same. 

But the thing with Joel is that you’re exhausted. You’re tired of the back and forth, of the push and pull, of the constant struggle to hold your care over each other's head, hoping the other will break first. Maybe this is a fresh start. 

You step closer to him, and you see him study the way you move. Of course, you’re trying to look strong, but he can surely sense the weakness. He’d always been good at that, better than any of the others. Your hand comes to rest on the porch railing for support. 

But…..

There’s that voice in the back of your head, the one that tells you this is a mistake. The one that reminds of the pain you’ve often earned through vulnerability. It likes to think it’s served you, protected you, and it has. But it’s not always right.

“I suppose I owe you an apology, too,” you say. “At the very least I should thank you for what you did.”

Joel shakes his head, dismissively, but looks to where your hand rests on the porch railing, looks back up to you as he reaches out. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” 

His hand clasps over yours, and to anyone else, this might be nothing. It’s so innocent, unassuming. But the effect it has on you is palpable. He squeezes once, and you flip your hand over, squeezing his back, giving him a gentle smile. “I am too.” 

Joel’s eyes fill with a warmth you haven’t seen in twenty years, and your stomach flutters, your heart races. A part of yourself that you’d considered long dead seems to rouse.“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“I told Ellie we’d go to the mess hall together,” Joel says. “Otherwise I would.”

You blink once, and Joel sees it, immediately continuing on. “But maybe Ellie and I can come another time, join you and Ethan?”

“Yeah. He’d like that,” you say. “That might be nice.” ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-June 20, 2024-

You think that at the end of a long winter, bears must hate coming out of hibernation. 

It must suck. They spend months sleeping, doing almost nothing, and then suddenly they’re forced to function again – to hunt, to eat, to roam, to survive and socialize. You imagine there has to be a learning curve, a desire to crawl back into their den and never leave again. 

Or maybe you could be wrong, and they love it. And you’re just a wimp who hates feeling uncomfortable.

All you know is that you’re huddled in the back corner of the Tipsy Bison, nursing a whiskey – and it’s the last place you want to be. 

You’re overwhelmed. 

And despite the fact that you regularly used to attend community events, it’s been so long since you've been out in Jackson that you feel like you don’t belong. To some extent, you’ve always felt this – too hardened by the outside world to fully assimilate, especially when the town throws dances. But in the past, you at least attempted to convince yourself otherwise. 

Two weeks back, the doctors had cleared you to go about your daily activities as normal  – within reason, of course – but you hadn’t exactly jumped at the opportunity. Tonight, Ethan had accused you of becoming ‘antisocial’ and ‘reclusive’. You had agreed to attend – but only to beat those allegations. So far, you are definitely not. 

You scan the crowd, taking in the people spinning around the dance floor. Some of the women are wearing dresses. You can’t help but feel a little envious of how easily they’re able to perform femininity, which is something you’d given up on a while ago. It hadn’t exactly served you before arriving in Jackson, and you predict it would be humiliating to start trying now. After all the things you’d experienced, you were left marred with scars and wrinkles, stretch marks and loose skin. Since then, you’ve remained loyal to the combination of men’s denim and tank tops with flannel-button downs overtop. 

It doesn’t always stop the men in the community from descending like vultures. You might be the last pick – there are plenty others who are younger and prettier – but you’re still an option. Bea, your old partner, had always theorized that some men were particularly drawn to sapphic women, that it was ‘the ultimate challenge’. Maybe there is some truth to her theory, but you like men….sometimes. So there is always a part of you that yearns for their validation, for as many times as you tell yourself you don’t want it. But it never feels good to get it after you’ve watched them exhaust all their other options.

It’s pathetic, but it makes you think of Joel. He and Ellie had been over to yours and Ethans last week for a nice dinner, and you had tried to gauge whether there was any romantic connection between you still. Occasionally, you’d caught him looking at you with a wistful smile, but he could have been lost in thought. It’s not like you needed that from him or anything, but it might be useful information. After all this time, Joel is still so handsome, and probably has an impressive selection of potential partners here in Jackson – women of all ages. You hope he’s not here tonight – you can’t see much besides the dance floor at this point – because the thought of him cozied up to anyone here, combined with the acrid taste of the drink in your hand, makes you want to gag. 

You take another look around the room. Eugene, your partner in crime – quite literally – is walking towards you, which helps quell your spiraling mind . If you talk to him, say hello to Tommy and Maria, maybe Ethan will see the effort you’re making and you can sneak out without having to deal with anyone. It’s wishful thinking, but it’s worth a shot. The sooner you can get home tonight, the better.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel can’t stop staring. 

He knows it’s impolite. He knows that he’s not being subtle. He knows that if any other person in this bar followed his eyeline, they’d pick up on what he was doing in an instant. But every minute he doesn’t get called out for it, he becomes more and more emboldened. 

It’s the first dance he’s ever been to in Jackson, and the only reason he’s here is to placate Ellie and Tommy. But even they have abandoned him in favor of better companions – his brother is deep in conversation with Maria, sitting across from him in a booth, and Ellie is out on the dance floor dancing with one of her new friends, Dina.

Joel just can’t help himself. He still feels guilty for what he’s done, but he can’t shake the feeling of a soft hand clasped within his own – the first time he’d felt any semblance of hope since arriving here. Tommy and Maria had already slyly let him know about all the women who were interested, but he couldn’t bring himself to entertain their advances. There’s only one he wants, and she won’t even look in his direction.

When he’d first noticed you, you were whispering with Eugene on the opposite side of the dance floor. According to Tommy, you spend a fair bit of your time with the old man, which Joel initially thought to mean that you had some sort of entanglement. At first, Joel thought that couldn’t be possible. But you were deep in focus as you listened to Eugene’s words, nodding and leaning in closer and closer, and Joel thinks Tommy might be right. He wants to understand what you see in this man – tall and unkempt, covered in tattoos with long, graying hair and a beard to match. But Joel catches himself in his judgment, he’s probably just as unappealing – not just because of how he’s aged, but because of how horrible he’s been to you in general. 

The next time Joel sees you, you’re at the bar, chatting with a man who Maria had introduced him to not long ago, a resident who is new in town. Joel had been too busy focusing on the fact that he’d been in Jackson long enough to not be its newest resident that he couldn’t remember his name. He wishes he had, so he could keep tabs on him. Of course, he can’t blame the man for being drawn to you – Joel knows very well that you’re hard to miss in a crowd. 

Still, Joel bristles when you both step away from the bar, and the man’s hand lands just above your sacrum. He actually finds himself tensing up, resisting the urge to intervene, because it’d likely only make you angry. Plus, maybe you are interested. That question is answered quickly when you reach behind your to clasp the man's hand and place it back at his side. Where it belongs, he thinks.

“Joel!”

He snaps his attention to what’s in front of him – interrupted, and probably for good measure, lest he get himself too worked up. Ethan approaches with a girl his age, her arm linked through his. Joel stands to greet them. 

The terse understanding between himself and Ethan while you were still in the hospital had somehow turned into a friendship, especially after they’d begun getting paired up on patrol. Ethan reaches out for Joel’s hand to dap him up, slinging an arm briefly over his shoulder.

“How’s it going, kid?” 

“Good, good,” Ethan nods, pulling back, and gestures to the girl next to him. “Joel, this is Alex.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” she says. “Ethan’s told me all about you.” 

“Really?” Joel asks, feeling a little bewildered. 

“Only good things,” Alex says quickly, as if she senses his apprehension. Ethan puts his arm around her waist. Joel recalls a few weeks back when he’d asked for advice on how to ask out a girl. Joel hadn’t pried at the time, but now he seems to understand, and is surprised by the swell of pride he feels. “Ethan says you’re a fucking badass,”she giggles after she swears.

Joel looks over at Ethan. “I don’t know about that.” 

He shrugs, changes the subject. “Since when do you come to these things?” Ethan asks.

“Ellie dragged me out,” Joel answers.

“I did the same with my aunt,” Ethan chuckles. “But now I can’t find her, and I’m pretty sure she’s escaped.”

“Oh, is she here?” Joel plays dumb, like he hasn’t been aware of exactly where you have been all night. “I haven’t seen her.”

“I think she was with Eugene earlier,” Alex has to stand on her toes to speak into Ethan’s ear. Joel watches Ethan’s nose wrinkle. 

“Do you know Eugene at all?” Ethan turns to Joel. “I’m trying to figure out what’s going on there, but she won’t say anything.” 

Joel wishes that he had more information. “Tommy says they seem close.”

“I know that,” Ethan says. “I wish she would just be honest with me. It’s not like I would be mad. Whatever,” he shakes his head. “We can talk about it another time. I just want to find her so I can introduce her to Alex.”

“We should say hi to Tommy and Maria first,” Alex says, and Ethan nods in agreement before saying goodbye to him. Joel claps a hand on Ethan’s shoulder as he moves past him, and Alex gives him a shy smile in acknowledgement. 

Focusing back on the crowd, Joel realizes that you’ve vanished in the short span of his last interaction. Maybe you’d rejected that guy, and then he’d retaliated. Maybe you’d gone home with Eugene. Joel shakes his hand. It’s none of his business. He doesn’t need to get involved. It’s not his job to look after you, regardless of how much better he feels when he does. Old instincts. He can’t help himself.

He settles on watching Ellie and Dina spin each other around on the dance floor. Eventually, Tommy and Maria, then Ethan and Alex all trickle out of the booth to go get another round or head to dance. Joel stands to release the booth to someone who actually needs it – and is left in the corner, nursing a nearly empty beer that’s now flat and warm. He looks towards his family and friends, but for some reason, he still feels alone. 

Joel isn’t sure how long he stands sulking, but he starts when someone approaches from behind.

“Having fun?”

You’re a pace or two back, one thumb hooked through a belt loop, a whiskey in your opposite hand. Joel looks back at the crowd a moment, then at the ground. “No.” 

“Neither am I,” you commiserate, stepping alongside him. 

Joel considers offering that Ethan was looking for you, but selfishly does not want to give you a reason to leave, so he stays quiet. You observe the dance floor like he is, smiling slightly at the sight of Ethan and Alex dancing. The flannel you’re wearing over a gray tank hangs loosely off one shoulder, and Joel wants to reach out and touch the exposed skin. You take your last sip of whiskey, bring a finger to swipe under your bottom lip, and Joel wishes he knew what you might taste like right now. He scolds himself for fantasizing.

You don’t speak either, and you stand in silence for a while, until you eventually pop your hip, shifting closer to him. Maybe you don’t realize it, but you’re already standing so close that your arm gets pressed up against his. Neither of you acknowledge the contact, but Joel is acutely aware of how your skin burns hot against his own. He feels comforted by the affection, even if it’s unintentional.

“Want to leave?” Joel asks, and can hardly believe that the words came out of his mouth, even if he wanted them to. 

You look over at him, not bothering to hide your surprise, but your expression evens out quickly, and you give him a single nod. “Yeah.” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel’s still not convinced this is real. It feels too much like a dream, the weather outside is so pleasantly warm it feels like he’s floating as you walk down the street. He had never expected you to agree to leave with him, and now he doesn’t know what to do, or what to say.

The greater distance you put between yourselves and the bar, the quieter the town is. Most of Jackson’s residents are at the dance, save for the guards at the front gate and the handful of people that had been mingling just outside.

He heads in the general direction of the neighborhood, even though he lives on a different street. 

“What are we supposed to do now?” you wonder out loud, and you sound a little incredulous, like you’re equally as shocked to find yourself beside him. The question carries a bit more weight than it would have coming from anyone else.

Joel contemplates. He’s not sure what he wants from you – there are a lot of things, actually – but he doesn’t know if he really deserves any of them. For now, your companionship is more than enough.

“You’re welcome to come back to mine,” he offers.  “But if you’re looking to keep drinking, all the booze is back at the bar.”

“I’m good.” You shake your head like you’re uninterested, but look over at him with a sparkle in your eye. “I have something better….” 

You reach into the pocket of your flannel and produce a rolled joint between two fingers, looking over your shoulder. “Those dances are usually terrible, so I always come prepared.” 

Joel can’t help the chuckle that escapes him, and the sheepish grin he gets in return makes his cheeks feel warm. “Where’d you even get that?”

“You’ve never been on patrol with Eugene, have you?” you ask. “He has a place just out of town where he grows it. I’ve been helping him since we first got paired up, and in exchange, I get to sample the supply.”  

Of course. Joel would’ve never imagined that was the reason you were so close with Eugene, but it suddenly makes incredible sense. He shakes his head in a combination of relief and amusement. “You really haven’t changed.” 

“Oh, I’m sure I have,” you answer, smiling to yourself and looking at the ground. “But of course I haven’t shaken all my bad habits.”

“That’s not true,” Joel mutters.

“Well, you haven’t changed either, for as much as you’ve tried to convince me,” you nudge him gently, offering him the joint. “What do you think?” 

Joel plucks it from between your fingers and puts it between his lips. “I think I have a lighter at home.”

“Sounds perfect.” 

In the front hallway of his house, you slip out of your tennis shoes, shuffling behind him in your socks, pausing occasionally to study some of the doodles that Ellie had drawn and hung on the walls – it wasn’t exactly a priority to decorate these days, but they certainly livened up the place. He knows how much Ellie likes you, despite the fact that she doesn’t gush, but the odd comment here and there says as much. Joel remembers how difficult it had been to keep Sarah away, and Ellie now is no different. He doesn’t seem to be able to help himself, either. 

You sit next to Joel on his wicker couch, curling your feet up under you as he lights the joint and study him while he takes the first few puffs. He does it without thinking. That’s how soft Jackson has made him. Normally, he’d be too stressed about being out of his wits. But he can’t see how hypervigilance has served him since settling down. He feels safe here, and somehow especially because he’s with you. 

When he passes the joint your way, you look at him wistfully. “Old times,” you say with a grin. 

Joel nods as he exhales, coughing. “Old times.” 

“Oh yeah,” you say, as if you just remembered something. “You can’t tell Ethan about this. He doesn’t know, and he will give me shit about it. I need him to take me seriously.” 

Joel shakes his head. “Well, you know, it sounds like he and Tommy both think you and Eugene are together.”

“What?” your head jerks forward in shock, eyes going wide. “Oh my god, no. Do people think that?”

“I’m just sayin’,” Joel wants to mention how he had seen you whispering to each other at the bar earlier, but then realizes it’d give a bit too much away. “That’s what they think.”

“Well....historically speaking I might’ve liked older men…. but not that old.”

Joel purses his lips. “You’ve lived here awhile, huh?” When you nod, he continues. “Has no one caught your eye?” 

“Uhm….not really. But….” you trail off, looking into Joel’s backyard. “To be completely honest, I  don't think about that much these days. I guess I feel like I have a lot to be grateful for. I don’t want to push it.”

Joel understands, and nods pensively.

“What about you?” you ask. 

“I guess I feel the same.”

That causes you to smile a little bit, look over at him. “I bet you already know this. But the women here would line up down the block for you.”

Joel can’t help but roll his eyes, though he wonders if you would, too. Even if you did like him, that didn’t seem like your style. 

“I’m serious. I’ve heard the things they whisper behind your back. All their fantasies about you are pretty creative...”

“Fantasies?” He grimaces. He imagines none of them know anything about who he really is. You’re the closest thing, and all he’s done is hurt you. “I’m sure you were quick to set them straight.” 

“I don’t say anything,” you say, then continue on, a little quieter, looking at him from under your lashes. “I like to keep you to myself.” 

Joel isn’t sure how to respond to that. You have every right to tell all of them that you were once together, and all the ways he’s hurt you since. Yet for some reason, you’ve chosen to protect him. 

“So….all this time….” you wonder. “You had to have been with other people, right?”

Joel doesn’t think to hold back. “I had a partner for a long time. Tess. First, it was all business, I helped her smuggle things in and out of the Boston QZ…and then, I don’t know….we got along, we trusted each other and…” Joel trails off, hoping you’d put together the rest before he has to go into too much detail. “She was real fuckin’ tough. Scared me a little at first. You would’ve liked her.”

“Well, we already have one thing in common. What happened?”

“She’s the whole reason I ended up out here….with Ellie,” Joel explains. “But I lost her a little over a year ago.”

He hopes you don’t ask how. Maybe someday he’d be willing to go into detail, but talking about it generally is hard enough as it is. But fortunately, you seem to pick up on his hesitance. “I’m sorry, Joel,” you say softly.

He shakes his head. “I was an asshole. To her. I should've....after Sarah died I didn’t want to get attached, so I kept her at arms length and I... I wished I hadn’t in the end. It only made things worse.”

“Yeah,” you nod, look down. “I’ve made that mistake before.”

Joel doesn’t want to linger any longer on the memory. “What about you? Were you with anyone?”

“Uhm, yeah,” you fidget, looking uncomfortable. “I had a partner….for like ten years."

Ten years? He had been with Tess for more, but something about that information feels jarring. He’s shocked Tommy never told him this. Did Tommy even know? Suddenly, it dawns on Joel everything that could’ve happened to you since you’ve been apart. Entire lifetimes. And he’d said such horrible things when you’d fought. He remembers your face when he’d told you that you didn’t know what it was like to lose a child. Maybe you had. He’d been so cruel and inconsiderate just because he was uncomfortable. 

His throat feels tight, almost scared to learn anymore. “What…what was his name?”

“Well, Bea….was her name.” 

Joel is sure he doesn't hide the shock well. “Sorry, I didn’t know…”

“Yeah,” you say. “I don’t think I did either. Well, I sort of did, but I was too young I think when I first realized to make any sense of it, but…. I met her and…yeah,” then, you smirk. “I mean, I went to an all-girls school and I had a really bad relationship with my dad so…it definitely makes sense. ” 

Joel considers this, smiles along with you. “But anyways. Her and I met shortly after my brother died and it was kind of the same. We kept each other alive, things developed from there. We ended up getting involved with this group who lived in the middle of nowhere. That’s a whole other story, but…” you wave your hand. “I loved her, and I lost her right before Ethan and I got here.” 

Joel sees all the pain in your eyes, and wishes he could say something to take it all away. He knows he can’t. You look back out into the woods in his backyard, take a deep breath, and reach back towards the joint that you had put out not long before, lighting it again. Joel gets the sense that both of you had done the most amount of sharing possible for the time being. 

“Look at us,” you take another drag before passing it over. “Old times.”

“Old times,” he repeats, a smile working its way onto his face. 

“This used to be my favorite thing to do with you.” 

“It was nice,” Joel agrees….hesitates before continuing. “But I can think of some things I liked better.” He gives you a knowing look, and you roll your eyes, laughing easily at his joke. It feels so good to make you laugh, to see you smile. Why had he spent so much time resisting?

“Touche.” 

What happens next spills out of Joel so quickly he doesn’t think to stop it. “I tried to look for you….after all this happened. I didn’t have Sarah anymore, and I thought maybe….I don’t know. It was the only thing that kept me going for a while.”

“I did too,” you confess. “But…I was with Vincent and Ethan, and I felt like I couldn’t leave them alone for something that might just be…. I always hoped you both made it. And I’m so sorry she’s gone. I really did love her.” 

“I know you did,” Joel reaches out to take your hand. “I know. And I shouldn’t have said those things I did. I’m still not sure why you’ve been so patient with me.”

“Hmm,” you shift so that you’re closer to him. “You waited around for me back then. It’s only fair that I’d wait around for you now. I want you in my life. I don’t care what that looks like. But it’s too hard to forget about a person that you loved.” 

Joel wants as much from you as you’re willing to give, and he can’t tear his gaze away from you. But he wants you to see him, all of him, before he takes it. 

“I’ve let a lot of people down. I’ve done a lot of h-horrible things,” his voice cracks, and tears well in his eyes. 

“I have, too, you know? Those things still live with me. But I think what matters is who we are now,” you reach out, fingertips brushing the scar on his temple, and Joel swears that even if you don’t know the story behind it, you can see right through him. “And I know who you are.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have.” 

“You won’t,” you say. “No more than anyone else has. And if it makes you feel better…when people hurt me, I’ve gotten pretty good at hurting them back.” 

“If I do, I’d hope you would.”

“I will. I promise,” your thumb strokes his cheek, marveling at him. “I would suggest a blood oath or something but….I heard we kind of already did that…”

He’s given you every warning, every barrier, and you’re still here. He can’t believe it, and he doesn’t think he can hold back any longer. “Come here.”

He kisses you. He wishes that he could be slow and tender and gentle like he used to be – and certainly he’s still capable, but he realizes that he’s been depriving himself of something he wanted for so long, and can’t seem to control himself. 

Your hands land on the side of his face, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. Maybe you’re somewhat taken aback by his urgency, you hum against his lips, but you don’t resist at all. Joel maneuvers you so you’re straddling his thighs, and he grips your hips, your ass, coasts his hands up your side. Your lips part in a moan, and he slips his tongue into your mouth. 

For a while, he stays there, savors the taste of you, whiskey and smoke still lingering on your lips. His hands cup your jaw, feel your body, grip and squeeze and stroke and you let him, continue to let him. He tries everything, wondering if you’ll tell him to stop, if you’ll decide you’ve had too much, but you don’t. Then again, he should know by now that you’re a woman who knows what she wants. He just finds it’s hard to believe that he’s the thing you want.

You break away from him, just a little, and Joel presses his nose to your neck, kisses your pulse point. 

“Should we go upstairs?” your voice is raspy and breathless. “Will Ellie be home soon?” 

“Probably not for a while. We can be quick.”

“Hopefully not too quick,” you raise your eyebrows. Joel can’t help but laugh a little. He relishes in the way your hands rake up and down his arms, exploring him, touching him. Of course he wants you, but even just this would be enough. He’d be content with less, he hadn’t realized how starved of affection he’d been.

You’re able to pry yourselves off one another to make it up the stairs, and Joel guides you with a hand to the small of your back. When you get to his bedroom, he opens the door, but stops you before you go inside. 

“Hold on,” Joel mutters, winding one arm around your waist, the other behind your knee.

“Joel, what-no, you’ll–” he pulls you into his arms. 

“Do you really think I’m not strong enough?”

“I didn’t say that,” you chuckle as he carries you over the threshold and into the bedroom, breath puffing against him before he lays you down on the bed. 

When he hovers over you, your fingers wind into his hair, nails raking against his scalp. He savors every sweet sigh he’s able to pull from you, hands cupping your breasts and squeezing your hips. You’re so pliant and open beneath his body, it makes it easier to not feel guilty about what he’s doing. He knows he shouldn’t feel guilty, you’ve said as much, but it might take some time before the feeling will die completely. Hopefully, he has enough time with you to see it off completely.

Clothes are removed quickly, intentionally, as you both bare more and more of yourself to each other. And while he wishes he could’ve been there to see the ways in which your body has changed, you’re still as beautiful as ever. 

Joel, however, is hesitant to give himself away completely. When you tug at the hem of his shirt, he hesitates. 

“I don’t know if-” he pauses. “If you want to see all that.”

“Joel,” you stare at him knowingly, kneeling across from him as he stands at the edge of the bed. “I do.” 

So he releases your hand, and lets you pull it over his head. Carefully, you study him, his body littered with scars. He knows he’s not as in shape as you remember. These days, he hardly can look at himself in the mirror after a shower. He expects you to be disgusted, or at least see it flit across your face before you compose yourself, but you don’t. Your fingertips drag through the smattering of hair on his chest and down his torso, tracing several prominent scars – each one with a story – but you linger on the one at his abdomen, frowning. 

He sees the question on your face, but you don’t ask it. Instead, you return to press yourself against him. “I’m so glad you’re still here….”

You kiss him, then, and Joel can only kiss you back. 

Joel isn’t the only one with battle scars. Some of them he feels are his fault, but you seem less self-concious about them, which gives him a surprising amount of confidence. Maybe it’s just a reality of what happens when you make it this long. 

When you’re finally bare beneath him, he admires how you look, stretched out and waiting, chest heaving and shivering with anticipation. He slides his hand between your legs – feels you already wet and warm, sinking two fingers inside. Your walls flutter around the intrusion, back arcing off the bed when you sigh out his name. Joel.

He’d forgotten how nice it felt to hear that. 

Joel is already thinking about what he’d like to do to you next time. He’d be more careful, more patient. He’d bury his face between your thighs to see if you tasted as good as he remembers, he’d let your fingers curl into his hair. But right now you both seem desperate for the same thing. 

He pumps his cock a few times with his hand, he can’t remember the last time he’d been this hard – the last time he’s wanted anyone this badly. Even with Tess, it had always felt like the both of them were hurrying to scratch an itch, her eyes would wander like she was thinking of other people, and maybe he was, too. 

Joel lines himself up with your slick cunt, teases you a little, and you roll your body down to meet him, gasping when his blunt head slides in – just a little. 

He can’t hold back. You practically suck him in, so tight and hot around him he finds it immediately overwhelming, but he doesn’t even think to pull out. Only when he’s fully seated inside you, and given you a chance to adjust, does he start to move. 

It’s euphoric. You’re both older now, more mature, but he still remembers all the things you liked, even if it takes a moment for him to find the spot inside you that makes you cry out, legs wrapping around his hips. 

Unlike before, you don’t bother trying to hide from him. You kiss him, hold him, touch him, look him in the eyes, tell him how good he feels – you don’t hold back. Joel relishes every word you say, clings to the praise and gives it back. Your lashes flutter when he tells you how pretty you look.

He can think of nothing else other than bringing you pleasure, can tell you’re getting close when you begin to rut against him, and he reaches down to let the pads of his fingers slide over your clit.

When you come, you whine his name, lock your lips with his own and he swallows your moans. The feeling of you so impossibly tight and wet and pulsing and squeezing him so tightly has him following closely after. 

His head is still buried in the crook of your neck when you speak again. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

The second Joel pulls out, he starts missing how close he felt to you. But you fix that by rolling over onto your stomach, curling up at his side, head on his chest, and arm across his stomach. 

“Joel. Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

He’s far from it. But he’s starting to think if you say it enough, maybe he’ll start to believe it. He turns his head to kiss you gently, slowly. “So are you.” 

“We can do this again, right?” you ask. 

“Yes,” he says. “Yes, we can.”

“Good,” you settle back against him, and very slowly, he dozes off with you right beside him. He doesn’t want to sleep alone again, and luckily, he doesn’t have to. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-December 4th, 2026-

When you return home from patrol, you find Joel in his living room – boots off and socked feet propped on the arm of the couch. You don’t notice his eyes are closed, that he’s asleep, until you get closer, see the book he’d been reading resting on his chest as he snores lightly. You can’t help but feel for him – he’s probably exhausted from constant patrols, so he must be tired. 

But mostly, you’re just overwhelmed by the love you feel for him, catching him in a quiet moment of vulnerability. Hesitantly, you reach out and squeeze his foot. It’s gentle and tender enough that he blinks his eyes open and looks around, taking in his surroundings, rather than jolting awake like he often does. When he sees you on the opposite end of the couch, he melts back into the pillow he’s propped against. 

“Hey, stud,” you lean against the arm of the couch. 

“Hey,” Joel answers, voice still gruff with sleep. “How long was I out?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I just got in.”

“Hmm,” Joel closes his eyes again, folds his hands across his stomach.

“You’re wearing the glasses I got you,” you point out. They’re simple. Rectangular black frames. You’d found them on patrol, and brought them home after Joel had been complaining that he could barely see when he read before bed. But he’d tried them on and insisted he hated the way they looked, so you’d ended up using them most of the time.

“They do work,” he grumbles, like he’s ashamed to admit it. “But I still think they look stupid.”

“You look like a sexy librarian,” Joel rolls his eyes, but you can tell he’s suppressing a grin. There’s always a bit of defiance about him, he can’t fully admit how you get him so flustered even after you’ve spent so much time together. You press your thumb into the arch of his foot and he groans. “That feel good?” you ask. 

“Yes.”

“Whatcha reading?” You gesture towards the book. 

“Some book about the moon landing,” Joel lifts it off of his chest, where it lay face down and open, looks at the back cover. “For Ellie.”

“How sweet.”

“It’s a little dry,” he deadpans. “But she likes this stuff.” 

You shift your massage to his other foot. Joel stretches, his arms lifting above his head, the shirt he’s wearing rides up just so, so you see a sliver of his lower belly before it disappears again, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

“Are you tired?” you ask. 

“Always,” he says through a yawn. 

“Me too,” you yawn along with him, since they’re contagious. He pulls the glasses from their perch on the bridge of his nose and shuts the book, placing them both on the coffee table in front of him. You take your hands off his feet and he sits up a little straighter, holding out his hand. 

“Come ‘ere,” he says, and you do. 

He grunts as you settle into his arms, head nestled against his chest, sprawling out almost on top of him, the only way you both can fit like this on the couch.

“You’re so warm,” you say softly, letting him wrap his arms around you. 

“You’re cold. Your hands are freezing,” he holds them in his own.

“It’s cold out.”

“Don’t know why you left today.”

“Obligations. Patrol.”

“Fuck that.”

You laugh into his chest, pausing for a moment before speaking again. “You know, I think we might be boring.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, we don’t really leave the house. We spend all day reading. And we’re old.”

“We’re not that old.”

“But we’re getting up there.”

“Sure, but…” Joel trails off. 

“Everything’s so quiet, so calm.”

“I think that’s what most people would describe as content.” 

“Are you content?” you ask, lifting your head to look him in the eyes. 

“I’m happy,” he says softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ears. “Are you?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Then don’t worry about the rest.”

“Okay,” you settle back against your husband's chest, feel his lips brush your forehead.

His fingers search absentmindedly for the ring on your finger he’d found while clearing out a pawn shop not too long ago. The one he wore looked nothing like your own. But the marriage had been long overdue, and neither of you cared what the rings actually looked like. 

Nowadays, you split your time between his place with Ellie, and your own with Ethan, but end up in his bed every night. At this point, you don’t think you could sleep without him. 

Years ago, another lifetime, you’d had a conversation underneath a sky full of stars. You’d told him that for you, good things had never lasted. Joel had made a promise. 

This will.

It took time. There was a lot of pain. But in the end, he had told you the truth.

-

-

-

[surely-sims]

working on a chaotic amount of 70s menswear right now

[mothymayhem]

I needed an excuse to share my Lunar headcanons so you guys get silly lil lineless doodle and my headcanons/info about my AUs Lunar

[usbkinitopet]

"Untitled Kinito Song"

(Wanted to share this video while I recover my energy for a new video coming soon!.. especially towards an ask!! If you can get what I based this song on, your rad, because this is meant to be silly and canon to USB!Kinito lore c:) - Mod Soni

[otiksimr]

Delphi Corps is proud to present their first successful attempt of "reanimating" a body: D-472

[p0rchc0ll4ps3]

comparing case notes on the ride home at the end of a long day

did all the perspective myself! it kinda' turned out jank but it's what it's. i'll get better at it eventually

really tried to capture the essence of revachol architecture style with this. the metro lines were built by the communards in '79 of the last century, about 11 years into the dictatorship. various cities in revachol have metro, but none are as extensive as jamrock's metro. however, due to mismanagement and embezzlement and war, a lot of the metro stations remain unfinished, especially in the poorest parts of the city (for example, it was never finished in the coal city district of jamrock, which is big enough to count as it's own city. the metro line was dug out, but the tracks were never layed due to the project never reaching completion and due to the commies not really caring to build out there. in the valley of the dogs, which is in west jamrock and about as poor as coal city, the metro wasn't even built at all due to there being a huge immigrant population out there and a lot of bullshit from the government). anyways a lot of homeless people live out in those abandoned stations. this among a billion other things really adds to how much east revachol and its slightly richer cities really think lowly of west revachol and jamrock despite not being much better off themselves

the metro cars and the metro stations are built in the neo-perikinassian style that the communards favored for all their structures (neo-perikinassian is an elysium equivalent to our neo-classical style). this style intends to give a vibe of old world richness and power and strong authoritative government, while also attempting to create a strong, national revacholian architectural style, celebrating insulinde's original pagan origins by reflecting traditional folk patterning. communism in revachol wanted to be purely revacholian, taking zero influence from the colonies that revachol used to rule over. the dictatorship did away completely with insulinde's original colonial past, trying to embrace a new totally revacholian identity and erasing anything deemed not revacholian. unfortunately, revachol is an immigrant country, with a history of colonialism and slavery, and a LOT of that has become a huge part of revacholian and insulindian culture. revachol is a melting pot, a mixture of influences from all over. the communists tried to erase this and make a new identity, but of course this attempted to erase everything else that makes revachol revachol. so in trying to make a new, purely revacholian identity, they erased true revachol from the books.

anways, they favored the neo-perikinassian art style with folk embellishments, but because revachol is revachol, there are also a whole lot of style moderne (revachol's art deco, a lot of airships, sunrises, and anti-pale shit) and noul stil (revachol's art nouveau which involves a lot of ocean and air organic motifs instead of flowers and the like) influences of course. as you can see here, there's noul stil motifs in the way that the lights are pearls and that they have waves on them. in fact, to go on yet another tangent, revachol's 'new disco' architecture, which started in jamrock during the new with the building of skyscrapers and new buildings in the style and spread to the rest of revachol, is a modern day revival of style moderne and noul stil that combines elements of both (i get a very og wizard of oz emerald city vibe).

anyways that's my lore essay. i really wanted to capture the feeling of being in revachol, specifically jamrock. the metro cars are also slightly based off bucharest's communist metro cars as well as the newer ones, but of course with a lot of wood instead because revachol and elysium are in a sort of era with their technology that mixes something of a industrial revolution 1890s victorian london, 1910s america and big cities right before the advent of skyscrapers and cars but also 1920s tech, and 1970s radio tech and all that shit. idk. some fucked up conglomeration

also guy on the left is someone from my de server's oc. i don't know their tumblr otherwise i'd tag!

oh and i tried to capture some kind of how the people of revachol are in general all types of people from many different ethnicities etc. and and the guy in the back looking at harry is one of jean's friends, enzo, who, after getting rejected from the rcm for being too violent (which is a big deal bc the rcm celebrates violence), joined la puta madre and now works to double-cross both lpm and rcm, doing what benefits him best. when jean and harry got captured by the lpm about 3 years back and almost died, it was enzo who saved them. enzo's one of jean's many connections he has in the city. harry doesn't remember him (but he will eventually. he has to figure out at some point where that big nasty scar on his stomach's from).

btw i spent like a wholeass hour or two one day trying to figure out what type of wood revachol would have because the commies use ONLY LOCAL RESOURCES. so i needed to figure out what type of wood they'd have. and i figured it was some kinda' birch with a very specific ashy grey wood. of course you can't see it here bc of the color-grading but yeah. know that i did research on that. ok?

anyways if you read this whole thing thank you very much for reading and congrats on getting thru it hahahaha. i really need to figure out a name for this au bc this is NOT kurwitz's elysium LOL

[mothwingwritings]

Ma'am can we please have some general sfw/nsfw Jun Guevara hcs we're starving

On my knees begging he's such a menace to society and your writing's so good

Call me meals on wheels how I be feeding the masses. (⌐⎚u⎚)

Heh heh heh, I have been meaning to try and write more Jun goodness. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ Thank you for providing the opportunity and thank you for your kind words!!!

I hope I did our beautiful boy Jun some justice with this one! NSFW at the end, so 18+ only please!

This man is one of the world’s biggest show offs, ESPECIALLY in your presence. The moment he hears your voice or spots you across the room, he starts posturing. Gloating about his various achievements, flexing and showing off his body whenever you pass by, dropping names of famous people he knows or exotic places he’s been, anything to try and get a rise out of you or to get you fawning. The man is not shy about singing his praises in a multitude of ways to paint himself as the ideal man for you.

If he has to spend any time away from you for any reason, all of his free time is going to go towards contacting you. Texts, phone calls, video chats-there is nothing that boosts his spirits like hearing your voice and seeing your face. Even just a simple text from you saying ‘good morning’ is enough to send him over the moon. Expect a rambling paragraph response back to any message you may send, littered with romantic prose while simultaneously begging you to send him pics (either lewd or just a normal selfie, doesn’t matter to him as long as he gets to see your pretty face/body).

He’s got a plethora of nicknames for you, ranging from sweet and loving to downright obscene. He loves seeing you blush and squirm, so he’s more apt to use the raunchy ones in public.

Despite his big ego and penchant for inappropriate flirting, he is a huge romantic. You are his one and only, his soul mate, and the thought of spending the rest of his life with you by his side never fails to fill him with butterflies. Nothing fills him with joy quite like waking up with you each morning and falling asleep with you each night. His most peaceful moments are when you are tucked in by his side, sleeping soundly under his protection.

He’s a rather jealous person, so he always gets grumpy when you aren’t giving him your full attention. If you so much as glance at your phone while on a date he gets moody, and isn’t above taking any electronic devices you may have away from you and stashing them out of your reach until you have to part ways with him. If it’s another physical person you are giving your attention too, he will become insufferably rude/standoffish to them until they either get the picture and leave on their own, or you are so mortified by the encounter you leave yourself, dragging Jun with you.

Family is very important to him, and he is extremely eager to bring you into his family’s fold. It didn’t take long in your relationship for you to become acquainted with both his close and extended family, and though you were nervous as hell to meet them all so soon, they accepted you with open arms and put you at ease upon your initial meeting. They were quick to usher you into their home, provide you with a warm meal, relay story after embarrassing story of Jun in his youth. If you are someone who doesn’t have a family/has a bad relationship with your family, all that changes now as you have been fully adopted into the Guevera home, his family quickly becoming your own. Otherwise he’s just as eager and adamant to meet your family, and will invite them to every Guevera family gathering in the future. Just prepare yourself for the onslaught of ‘when can we expect a grandchild?’ questions to roll in, and that all of them will be responded with ‘We’ve been hard at work, so as soon as possible’ or something similarly suggestive by Jun.

He has a tendency to be SUPER pouty. If you get into a disagreement or spat, even with how much he loves you, he wants to be the one who comes out on top. If you prove him wrong in an argument, any sense of victory you may feel is going to be overshadowed by how damn whiny he is going to be over the next several hours. It can get so annoying that sometimes you give in and apologize, even though you did nothing wrong, just to get him to shut up. Regardless of if you concede to him or not, he is super clingy during the whole ordeal, wanting you to shower him in affection and attention as a means to ‘apologize to him for being mean to him.’ (He is an incorrigible brat. ^^;)

Sometimes Jun will just stop and stare at you for elongated amounts of time. At first it unnerved you a bit, unsure of what caused him to halt what he was doing and just… Look at you. When you finally worked up the courage and asked him why he would sometimes look at you so intensely, he simply explained that he often gets so caught up in your beauty that he can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from you. From that day forward you can’t help but blush bright red when you catch him doing it, which in turn always makes him produce a devilish smirk.

Though he lives to make you a blushing, stuttering mess, you also have the power to fluster him as well. Whenever you earnestly express your love for him, or go out of your way to show him you care, he turns into a flushed, mushy mess. He catches himself pretty quickly, but you always savor the moments when he slips and loses his macho façade, finding ruffled Jun quite endearing and cute.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!!!

As stated before, family is a top priority for him, and he is obsessed with the idea of making a huge family with you. This man has the biggest breeding kink, and any kind of love making he does never stops at one round. He needs to make sure he pumps you nice and full, eager to realize his dreams of a huge family ASAP. He practically salivates over the thought of how you will look stuffed with his children, thinking of how hot you’ll look round and full making him that much hornier and work that much harder to impregnate you.

He has an extremely hard time containing himself, and if you tease him in anyway (whether it be with sexy clothing, coy flirtations, or potentially just something you are doing unwittingly) he can and will take you right then and there. Who is he to deny himself the pleasure of you, when you so boldly flaunt your sex appeal before him? If you are in public he (usually) has the decency to pull you somewhere more private before he begins his assault, but he doesn’t do anything to try and muffle or hide what he is doing with you. In fact, he takes pleasure from knowing you may be caught or heard-people should be aware of how good he is at pleasuring his woman and be jealous of the fact that he can have you anytime he desires, and they never will. The ONLY time he shows any restraint is if children are present, but even then it doesn’t take long for him to shoo them away so that he can have his way with you without the fear of scarring any innocent minds.

Despite the thrill he may get over people potentially walking in on/hearing you two making love, he is EXTREMELY possessive and gets majorly pissed off if anyone other than him sees you in a compromising position, or ogles you for too long. He’s the kind of man that will make you wear an oversized tee and board shorts to the beach just to keep wandering eyes from lingering on you too long. Your body, wanton expressions, and your sultry moans-they are for him and him only. If someone else did manage to catch you two in the act he will hunt them down later and beat their ass, accident or not. The only exception would be if it was someone he trusted, but even then they are on VERY thin ice.

He likes to film his sexual encounters with you, and loves even more to make you watch them with him afterwards. Even if it embarrasses the hell out of you, he thinks it’s completely unfair that you don’t get to see how goddamn sexy you look when he’s plowing into you, and insists on sharing the experience. He happily narrates the whole thing to you as he holds you perched on his lap, rewinding his favorite moments to he can play them again and again for you. He’ll almost always touch you while the video plays, doing his best to coax the same noises and reactions from you as you are doing in the video. These viewings of course also lead to more sex, as there is no way in hell he isn’t hard as a rock once he’s done viewing it.

Jun is very perceptive of your mood and can always tell when you are in a self-conscious rut. He can’t stand when you demean yourself and gets agitated when you tear yourself apart over your appearance. Don’t you realize how fucking beautiful you are??? Don’t you see that you are literal perfection??? Well, if not, he’s just going to have to show you, isn’t he? He will take his time worshiping every inch of you, giving extra care to the parts of your body you are comfortable with. Every part of you is flawless, and if you have trouble seeing that on your own he has no qualms over helping you realize this. As long as it takes, he won’t stop lavishing you until you yield to him and realize just how incredible you are.

As much as he loves watching you when you are making love, he loves holding you during the experience even more. His favorite positions are the ones where you are a close, intertwined mess of limbs and carnal desire. He wants to feel you in your entirety, and there is no such thing as close enough as far as Jun is concerned.  When you are pressed against him you can feel each other’s heartbeat, and it’s easier for him to whisper in your ear about how much he loves you, tell you how fucking unbelievably good you feel. He is absolutely obsessed with you in every way, and he’ll keep you as close as he can for as long as possible, savoring the unity he feels with you beside him. You are half of his soul, and he feels incomplete otherwise.

[cleminthewriter]

This time Dad says it's my turn on the writing

A/N: ok so context, I have a little theory that Alex and Winfrey are related, and this is me turning it into an au. It might be a bit cringe but I hope y'all enjoy.

TW for some ableist language after “Dad, please, Alex really liked the pair when we went to the eye doctor today-” and "And the only response they’d get to defending themself was:", it's nothing too bad I think, but just wanna mention that as a just in case

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

Winfrey knew. Of course they knew. Everything about them gave it away.

The dark green eyes that reminded them of oak trees.

“Daddy! Daddy! Can we go to the park today? I really wanna try and get to the top of the big oak today!”

“Sure Al, just let Daddy finish writing this lesson real quick, alright? You can get your shoes on in the meantime.” 

“Yay, Thank you Thank you Thank you!”

“Woah, haha, Careful- and they're already gone.” a sigh “Tell Your Grandparents We’re Leaving!”

“OK!”

The long brown hair that went all the way to their shoulders.

“Alex, I am so sorry. I thought your hair would have been fine.”

“It’s Not Fair! Why’d They Cut It!”

“The dress codes says-”

“Says Baloney!”

A stifled laugh.

“I should get to have my hair how I want it! Daddy, you're an adult, they’ll listen to you. Tell Them!”

“... oh honey, they… won’t.”

“Why Not?!?”

“... same reason I missed Christmas last year.”

Those round glasses with the green frame that made their eyes look slightly bigger.

“Winfrey, why the hell would you need 55 dollars for a pair of glasses.”

“Dad, please, Alex really liked the pair when we went to the eye doctor today-”

“Tell ‘em no! Your already in enough debt from your little freakout-”

“And You Want Me To Explain That To A FUCKING Six Year Old!?!” Silence, while breathing.

“Dad I promise to tell Alex you paid for them and I promise to pay you back, just… please. Alex needs glasses and I want to make sure they get a good pair. I won’t ask you for anything else after this. Just do it for your grandkid.”

“...fine. But I expect the money to be spent ON the glasses.” 

“They will be, Dad, I promise.”

The way their hand trembled while holding that… strange device with the flashing light.

Loud, Intense crying.

“Al, look, there’s no monster outside. It was just some trees. It’s ok.”

“But- but- It was scary! It was prob-prob-bably gonna eat me!”

“Alex, look at me, just for a moment. … that's it, look at you, you brave little guy. Now, listen to me: Monsters aren’t real. Just little images us creatives come with from time to time. Nobody’s out there planning to eat you up. Just the pines right there.”

“You- You promise Dad-Daddy?”

“Yeah I promise Alex.” A hug. “... I will say one monster exists. It's called THE TICKLE MONSTER!”

“Ahhahahahahhaha DAAAAADDYYYY!”

Oh… how so much had changed in the last twenty or so years, yet so much was the same. It was still their (or well the human who they had consumed but they were mostly the same person now) little one. Who they had spent the last six years of their human life caring for. Who they only thought of as they spent quite a bit of those six years here in this damned asylum. Who had been the only person they left the maternity ward with before they inevitably had to plan the funeral of their first love. 

Their Alex.

(who notably carried some scent of their partner. Not intense enough to have been Clyde wearing their skin, but enough to tell Alex had been around it frequently. They internally prayed to Six their child had not taken Clyde as well as them.)

It was a moment where they had seemed to have lost the voice of that first human victim, substituting it with a “Help me” from a patient they had consumed some memories with Alex from sometime ago. Alex had always been one to help others in need.

However, before Alex could say anything, that Dreaded man grabbed their attention.

“Daddy, when will you be back?”

“Just another week Al, just another week. Once I’m out, we’ll do all sorts of fun things together. I’ll play you the violin, I’ll get us ice cream with three scoops, i’ll even see about getting you that cat you’ve been wanting.”

“Black with yellow eyes?”

“Yes black with yellow-”

“Mr. Williams, your time is up. Best to get back to your… therapy.”

“Just a bit more time, we just need to-”

“No Mr. Williams, your child must leave now.”

“Just A Bit-”

Winfrey watched as the Doctor sent Alex away again, this time not even allowing for a conversation at all. And as he shut those doors, as he turned his head back to them with that horrid smile, Winfrey knew another thing:

Lankmann knew as well.

—

Alex slammed their bedroom door shut. So What! They bleached a section of their hair blonde, not a huge deal! Unlike Stacy, they didn’t make their hair fall out. So why the hell was Grandpa so annoyed by it?!? They were sixteen, they could do whatever the hell they wanted!

Alex fell onto their bed and screamed into their pillow. Ever since Grandma died back in August, he’s been on their back over everything! No matter what they said or asked, it was always the wrong thing! And the only response they’d get to defending themself was:

“Careful Alexander, you're becoming your father.”

Which would make Alex completely annoyed. Without Grandma there to smack him on the head and cry “Benedict!”, he could say it as much as he wanted. Elementary and Middle School were bad enough with the fear and bullying over their father’s mental health and disappearance, but at least by High School it had frizzled out and Alex could finally make some real friends. With Grandpa, he could never let it go! It pissed them off so bad. Maybe their dad wasn’t the most healthy mentally, but they were good to them and grandpa should stop acting like they weren’t!

Alex let out a final groan as they looked at their clock and- oh it was already 8:30. Alex had plans to go to a party at Sean’s, and Rick confirmed that the cute girl from chem was gonna be there. Sure, Gramps may have “Grounded” them, but they had made it to the top of the oak tree with and without dad’s help. Leaving out the window and climbing down a two story house was easy.

Alex got up from the bed and went to their closet. 

But… something outside the window caught their eye.

Memories of their dad comforting them from some trees blowing a bit too hard outside flooded their brain. “Little images us creatives come with from time to time”, they could hear their dad whispering to their crying six year old self. It had been years since then, and by now Alex knows monsters aren’t real (Until this would later be proven false when they’d come home from college for a bit to plan Grandpa’s funeral in Fall ‘86. What started as a fun get together with some old high school buddies on halloween ended with being interviewed by the local news about six missing kids and later on getting a job offer as an archivist for The Lankmann Foundation as protection from the “Veldigun”. Well, that benefit of the job would be thrown away as they’d proceed to feed the veldigun that ate said six kids), but yet Alex couldn’t help but wonder…

Were the eyes always in those trees?

[kit-williams]

Here, I have a few "hear me out" character options for you. Lets see if any are too unfuckable for you or you at least find it entertaining XD

Here me out level: Very mild Ahzek Ahriman: kind of a douche but also really likes civilian remembrancers. Loves to fuck with warp magic and is also a repeat offender cannibal. yummy

Here me out level: Mild Argel Tal: (The best Word Bearer) Not a bad man pre heresy, and in a vision Lorgar has turns into a demon bug man. kinda hot ngl

Here me out level: medium Asterion Moloc: Chapter master of the Minotars. Kind of like Tyberos but worse also more brutally evil and paranoid. Is fucking massive, scarred and full of cybernetics.

Here me out level: hardish Eidolon: An Emperors children marine, like Fulgrim but even more of a narcissistic asshole. Gets corrupted in the heresy and is so much of a dick Fulgrim himself actually kills him. 8/10 would be his pet pre-heresy because post heresy he is dead 💀

Here me out level: ??? Mothman Mortarion: I would let that massive stinky man have whatever he wanted

Ahzek: 100% would DID NOT KNOW HE WAS A CANNIBAL I just love tragic magic boys who tried his best but like dad everything went wrong.

Argel Tal: 1000% WOULD both as normal and demon bug/abomination thing listen that vertical mouth could do things to me but yeah sometimes you just crave insect man sexual horror

Asterion Moloc: 50% would... I don't know enough about him or the Minotaurs much beyond just utterly ravaging the Lamenters. But Granted I could probably think up some sort of personality for him sexy enough to turn that 50% to 100% just like I've done with Tyberos.

Mothman Mortarion: Would and in my drafts am working on something for him

His mask had been removed for this occasion, bits of his flesh coming off with it, but ever the resilient one Mortarion hardly felt it as Isolde looked up in horror. The chittering insect like mouth mixed with a human one swirled and mashed together as he chittered down at her. His silvery wings fully spread, flicking in the light to catch her eyes as he preened and felt an excitement. Mortarion was intimate with the cycle of death and rebirth that Nurgle governed over and fecundity was a step in that cycle Mortarion walked past. He was content on being a creature that had lost it's life mate and warbled its never returned mating song.

There was an insanity that danced in Mortarions eyes as two smaller arms gripped and pulled on her clothes. They were in his section of the garden... away from the Grandfather's gaze and while it pained Mortarion physically and immaterially he would introduce his wife to Grandfather later... after intimacy was restored and pent up feelings were taken care of. His clothing and armor melted away off of his body...

Eidolon: I don't know much about him cept that he did get killed and might be alive? Unless someone else in lore is also... EITHER WAY

Emperor's children are always a hard sell for me idk how you can be more narcissistic than Fulgrim so yeah I just don't know enough about him to figure out if I even COULD write something about him.

So TL;DR: Everyone is would just Asterion Molec is someone I'd have to probably build up like Tyberos to make him work and Eidolon I don;t know enough about & him being an Emperor's Children makes him have an uphill battle for me to try and sexualize