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#even though i know he probably just dragged him up
stylesispunk · 3 days
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Silent Strain | Part iii
Outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader
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chapter summary: Joel is afraid of letting you out of his sight and you were afraid of him slipping away.
w.c: 16k> (it was going to be 8k but this happened)
warnings: angst, mentions of panic attack, fluff. no proofreading. Probably some things won't make sense, but I felt pressured and I had to post this chapter.
a/n: hello! Last fic I posted didn't go how I expected but here's another chapter of this series. I hope you like this chapter and PLEASE share your thoughts with me. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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As the first gloomy light of morning crept through the window, Joel felt like he could finally breathe again. The soft, grey dawn brought with it a sense of calm that the night had cruelly stolen away. He didn’t fear the darkness itself; he'd learned long ago to live within its shadows, but he feared the memories that the darkness brought to him. The loss, the crying, the desperation... and the blood.
The thought of losing another child, and losing you in the process, cracked the rough surface he had been hiding behind for so many years. It was too much; it was too familiar. As much as he tried to stay strong, the fear had gnawed at him, tearing at the fragile walls he had built around his heart.
Your breathing had steadied, though the pain had not fully subsided. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest, uneven but there, steadying his own frantic pulse. He had held you tighter, his own breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps, trying to stay calm for you, for the baby.
After the scare from last night, Joel had held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his face buried in your hair. He whispered softly; words meant to soothe you but also to keep his own panic at bay. "It's okay, darlin'. I'm here. Just breathe. Stay with me…"
The hours had dragged on, and every flicker of discomfort on your face sent a fresh wave of panic through him. He hadn't let himself sleep, afraid that if he closed his eyes, he might wake up to another nightmare.
Now, in the pale morning light, Joel watched you. Your eyes were closed, but your breathing was calm and even, a welcome change from the strained, pained gasps that had filled the room only hours before. He stroked a thumb gently along your arm, his touch feather-light, afraid of disturbing you but needing the contact to ground himself.
Ellie, who had kept a worried vigil nearby, finally stirred awake. She glanced over and saw Joel watching you, the lines of tension still etched into his face.
"Is… is she okay?" Ellie whispered, moving closer, her eyes wide with concern.
Joel nodded slowly, his voice barely a murmur. "Yeah, I think… I don’t know.”
Ellie let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "God, Joel, you looked so scared," she admitted, trying to lighten the mood, though her voice was shaky. "I’ve never seen you like that."
Joel’s lips twitched into a faint, weary smile. "Guess I'm getting soft, huh?"
Ellie leaned against the wall, watching him carefully. "That isn’t bad thing," she muttered, her eyes flicking over to you. “She needs you.”
Joel’s gaze softened, his eyes returning to you, still sleeping peacefully. Then, his gaze went to Ellie’s again.
“Ellie, can you take care of her for a moment?”
Ellie nodded, confused as Joel stood up, walking towards the door without saying a word to her.
Joel's steps were heavy, each one echoing softly in the quiet room. He reached the door and paused for a moment, his hand resting on the rough wood. His shoulders were tense, his head slightly bowed as if wrestling with some invisible weight.
Ellie watched him, frowning. "Joel?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Where are you going?"
He didn't turn around, didn't meet her gaze. "Just… need a minute," he replied, his tone low and strained. "I'll be back soon."
Ellie’s eyes flicked back to you, still resting, and then back to Joel. “She’s gonna wake up and ask for you,” she said, her voice gentle, but firm. "You sure you’re, okay?"
Joel nodded, though his movements were stiff, almost mechanical. "Yeah," he muttered, though he didn’t sound convinced. “I just need some air."
With that, he slipped out the door, the cold morning air rushing in as he opened it. He took a deep breath, feeling the sharp chill hit his lungs, grounding him momentarily. He stepped outside, letting the door close quietly behind him.
He stood there, just outside, his breath visible in the cold air, his mind racing. The panic from the night before still clung to him, like a dark shadow that refused to leave. His hands trembled slightly as he ran them through his hair, trying to calm himself down.
He couldn't shake the image of you in pain, the fear in your eyes, the blood on your hands. It felt like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from, a terrifying reminder of all the things he couldn't control, all the people he couldn't protect.
He closed his eyes, leaning against the wall of the house, his breathing coming in short, uneven bursts. He pressed his hands against his chest, trying to steady his heart, but the memories wouldn't let him rest. Memories of Sarah, of the pain of losing her, of the years spent hardening himself against that same pain.
And now, here he was again, facing the possibility of losing someone he cared about more than he wanted to admit.
"Come on, Joel," she muttered under her breath, killing the silence on Joel’s mind.
“Go back inside” he said.
Ellie jumped slightly at his words, her eyes darting to Joel. She could see the tightness in his shoulders, the tension in his jaw. For a moment, she considered arguing, but something in his voice stopped her. There was a rawness there, a plea she hadn’t heard before.
“Joel…” she started, her voice softer now, more careful.
His eyes flicked to hers, the pain clear, almost palpable. “Ellie, just… go back inside,” he repeated, his tone almost breaking. “Please.”
She hesitated, biting her lip, before nodding “You know it’s not your fault.”
Joel's face tightened at Ellie's words, his jaw clenching as if he was holding back a torrent of emotion. He shook his head, looking away for a moment, his gaze hard and distant, lost in anger and regret.
“I dragged her here,” he muttered, his voice rough and strained. “Knowing her state, knowing what could happen… I should’ve left her behind. Should’ve kept her safe.”
Ellie took a step closer, her own face a mix of frustration and empathy. “But you didn’t,” she argued softly. “Because you knew she’d never forgive you if you did. She wanted to be with you, Joel.”
He looked back at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing her words. “It doesn’t matter,” he replied, his voice a little louder now, a little more forceful. “I still made the call. I still put her in danger.”
Ellie shook her head. “You’re doing everything you can to protect her. You think she doesn’t know that?” She took another step closer, her tone firmer. “She trusts you, Joel. She believes in you. And… so do I.”
For a moment, Joel’s expression softened, the harsh lines of his face easing slightly. But then he closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself. “I don’t know if that’s enough, kid,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Ellie sighed, glancing back at the door. “It has to be,” she said. “Because she needs you now more than ever. And you’re the one who’s gonna keep her safe.”
Joel let out a long, shaky breath, his shoulders slumping as if a weight had settled on them. He looked at Ellie, his expression caught between determination and fear. "Yeah… I hope you're right," he murmured, almost to himself.
Ellie reached out, touching his arm gently, a rare moment of softness between them. “Just… don’t beat yourself up too much, alright?” she said, her voice low. “She’s gonna need you to be strong for her. And so am I.”
Joel and Ellie stepped quietly back inside the house, the dim light from the early morning casting long shadows across the walls. Joel's eyes immediately moved to you, lying on the couch, your face still and peaceful in sleep. For a brief moment, he felt a strange calm settle over him, just seeing you safe, resting.
But as if sensing their presence, you began to stir. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the dim light. The ache in your body was still there, a dull throb in your stomach, but the sharp pain had subsided, leaving only a sense of heaviness. You blinked a few times, your gaze settling on Joel and Ellie as they stood by the door, both looking back at you with relief.
“Hey…” you murmured; your voice raspy with sleep. You tried to push yourself up, but Joel was by your side in an instant, his hands gently helping you to sit up. His touch was careful, as if he was afraid you might break.
“Take it easy,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing.
You nodded, wincing slightly as you adjusted yourself. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… I just…” Your voice trailed off, and you swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I’m okay, really.”
Ellie stepped closer, her eyes wide with concern, but there was a hint of a teasing smile on her lips. “You better be, ‘cause I don’t think I can handle Joel being that freaked out again,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.
You chuckled softly, a weak smile spreading across your face. “Guess I gave you both a bit of a scare, huh?”
Joel’s expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand. “Yeah, you could say that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
He didn’t meet you gaze, and you know damn well what that meant. You noticed the way his eyes seemed to avoid yours, his gaze fixed on some invisible point in the room. His thumb kept moving over the back of your hand, but there was a tightness in his jaw, a hesitation in his posture that made your heart ache.
“Ellie,” you said softly, turning your head toward her. She paused, halfway through rummaging in the supply bag, her eyes darting between you and Joel. “Could you… give us a minute?”
Ellie hesitated, her gaze lingering on Joel for a moment, and then on you. She seemed to understand that something more needed to be said between the two of you. She nodded slowly, trying to mask her concern with a casual shrug. "Yeah, sure," she muttered, trying to play it cool, even as her curiosity buzzed beneath the surface. “I’ll, uh, go check on the weather or something.”
She grabbed her jacket, slinging it over her shoulders and headed toward the door. “But if I hear any yelling, I’m coming back in,” she added with a small grin, trying to lighten the mood before she slipped out the door, leaving the two of you alone.
The room was suddenly much quieter without Ellie’s presence. The only sounds were the crackling of the dying fire and the distant, muted wind outside. You turned back to Joel, your eyes searching his face. He still wasn’t looking at you, his thumb still moving in that steady rhythm against your hand.
“Joel,” you whispered, trying to draw his gaze back to yours. "Look at me."
He hesitated, his shoulders tense, but finally, he lifted his eyes to meet yours. You could see the conflict there, the worry, the guilt. “What is it?” you asked gently. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
He took a deep breath, his jaw clenching for a moment before he spoke. "I… I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “For all of it. For dragging you out here, for… putting you in danger."
You shook your head, squeezing his hand. “Joel, I made that choice. I knew what I was getting into.”
He shook his head, his eyes dropping again, filled with that familiar guilt. “No… you didn’t. Not really,” he muttered.
You reached up, cupping his cheek with your free hand, forcing him to look at you again. “Joel, stop,” you said firmly, your voice steady. “Nothing is going to happen to us. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”
He closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. “I’m just… I’m so damn scared,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly. "Of losing you. Of losing another…"
You felt a lump form in your throat, understanding the weight of his words, the depth of his fear. You leaned closer, pressing your forehead against his, your voice soft.
“Joel, the baby is okay,” you reassured him softly, hoping your words would ease some of the fear you saw in his eyes. "I can feel it."
He shook his head slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “How do you know?” he asked, his voice low and rough. There was a tremor in it, a crack that revealed the depth of his concern. “How do you know when we’re out here, and everything’s…” He trailed off, his breath hitching.
You swallowed, trying to find the right words, to offer him some kind of comfort. “I just do,” you whispered, moving closer to him. “I can feel it. Maybe it’s just… a mother’s instinct. But I believe it, Joel. I feel like… this baby is strong.”
Joel's eyes softened at your words, but the fear still lingered there, heavy and ever-present. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to steady himself. His hand moved to rest on your stomach, his palm pressing gently against the swell. He closed his eyes, as if trying to feel what you felt, to believe in what you were saying.
“Strong,” he repeated softly, almost like he was testing the word, trying it out to see if it fit. "I hope so… I really do."
You placed your hand over his, squeezing it lightly. “I know so,” you assured him, your voice unwavering. “I know it’s a little tiny thing but..I feel it.”
He exhaled slowly; his breath warm against your cheek. “I want to believe you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I do."
“Then believe me,” you urged, your thumb brushing against his cheek in a soothing motion. “We’ve made it this far, right? We’re almost there, Joel… we just need to hold on a little longer.”
He nodded, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah,”
For a moment, the room was silent except for the crackling of the fire and the faint sound of the wind outside. Joel finally met your gaze again, a mix of hope and fear in his eyes. "I’ve lost so much,” he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t… I can’t lose you, too.”
Your heart ached at his words, understanding the depth of his pain. You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, trying to pour all the reassurance you could into that touch. "You won't," you whispered against his mouth. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."
He kissed your back, a little more desperately this time, as if he were afraid you might disappear. You held him close, feeling his body tremble slightly against yours, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.
Ellie pushed the door open, her footsteps echoing in the quiet room. She froze mid-step, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of you and Joel, wrapped in each other's arms, lips just parting from the kiss. Her face scrunched up in mock disgust, and she rolled her eyes dramatically.
“Ugh, seriously?” she groaned, putting her hands on her hips. “If you two wanted to get all mushy, you could’ve at least sent me away or something. Or, I don’t know, given me a warning!”
Joel pulled back, a faint blush creeping up his neck. He coughed, trying to mask the embarrassment with a stern look. “Ellie,” he started, his voice gruff, but she just waved him off.
“No, no, it’s fine," she said with a playful grin, "I mean, I get it… the world’s falling apart, and you’re all about the dramatic declarations of love. But can you keep it PG for the kid in the room?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension of the moment breaking as you met Ellie’s teasing gaze. “Sorry, Ellie,” you chuckled.
She rolled her eyes again but smiled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. "Yeah, yeah. Just… don't make me an unwilling participant in your cheesy romance, okay?" She paused, glancing between the two of you, her expression softening just a bit. "But… I’m glad you’re both okay.”
Joel shook his head, a small, reluctant smile forming on his lips. "We’re okay, kiddo," he replied softly, his voice still carrying a hint of emotion. "We’re all okay."
Ellie grinned, nudging Joel lightly with her shoulder. “Good,” she muttered, “'Cause I need both of you.”
You and Joel exchanged amused glances, and for a moment, the heaviness in the room seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of warmth and comfort in knowing you were all still together, facing whatever came next.
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Four months had passed since that tense night, and winter had settled in with a cold grip. The once vibrant landscape had transformed into a stark, snowy expanse. You, now seven months pregnant, felt the weight of your journey more than ever, but the quiet strength of Joel and Ellie beside you made the harsh conditions more bearable.
Now seven months pregnant, you felt the weight of it all pressing down on you, not just the baby growing inside, but the miles you had trudged through the wilderness. Your feet ached, your back was sore, and your hands were red and raw from the cold. Yet, the quiet strength of Joel and Ellie beside you made the harsh conditions somehow more bearable. Joel, ever watchful, kept close, his eyes always scanning the horizon for any sign of danger, his presence a constant comfort. Ellie, with her relentless spirit, kept the mood light with her jokes and sarcastic comments, doing her best to distract you from the relentless chill.
The trio of you had walked through miles of frost-covered terrain, the snow crunching beneath your boots. Each step was a reminder of how far you had come and how much further you still had to go. Wyoming was just ahead, a small but significant milestone in your quest for safety and a future.
Joel trudged ahead, his face set in determined lines, but every now and then he would glance back at you, making sure you were okay. He had taken to carrying a small pack with supplies, his concern for you palpable. Ellie, now a bit more grown and experienced, walked close by, occasionally breaking the silence with a joke or a comment, trying to keep your spirits up.
You looked at Joel’s profile, his face partially hid the fear on his bones and despite his gruff exterior, he had become your rock through this tumultuous journey. You had come to rely on his strength and his soft, rare moments of tenderness.
December 1st
“Winter has arrived with a vengeance. The cold is biting, and our progress has slowed. We’re staying in an old barn for the night, huddled together to keep warm. Joel’s been making sure the fire stays lit, while Ellie tries to make the best of our situation.
I can feel the baby kicking more strongly now. It’s a constant reminder of why we’re enduring all of this. Joel’s been more attentive, though still guarded. He’s trying so hard to protect us, and I wish he could see that his presence alone is enough.
The snow makes everything look different. Almost beautiful, in a way that feels wrong given the world we’re living in. We made camp in a small cabin tonight. Joel found some firewood, and Ellie kept herself busy by trying to make soup out of what little we had. She’s worried about me, even though she pretends not to be. I can see it in the way she watches me, like she’s waiting for something to happen. Joel, too, keeps his eyes on me, never letting me stray too far. I think he’s afraid, maybe more than he’ll ever admit.
The baby’s been kicking more. It’s a strange feeling, like little taps from the inside, reminding me that there’s something good in this world. Something worth fighting for.”
The cold wind whipped around you, making it difficult to see very far ahead. Joel motioned for a short break, and you gratefully lowered yourself onto a nearby snow-covered log. Ellie quickly dug out some snacks and hot drinks from her pack, her hands red and numb from the cold.
“Here,” she said, handing you a steaming cup. “This should help warm you up.”
You took the cup gratefully, savoring the warmth as it seeped into your fingers and then your body. “Thanks, Ellie,” you said, smiling. “I don’t know how we’d have made it without you.”
Ellie shrugged; her cheeks flushed from the cold. “Just doing my part,” she said with a wink. “And keeping you guys from going completely crazy.”
Joel joined you, taking a seat beside you and offering you a small piece of dried fruit. “We’re almost there,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Just a bit further, and we’ll be in Wyoming.”
You nodded, taking comfort in his words. “I know,” you replied. “It’s just... sometimes it feels like it’s never going to end.”
Joel’s hand reached out, gently resting on your knee for a few minutes to provide the comfort he knew you needed.
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As you made your way through the snow-covered terrain, the excitement of nearing Wyoming provided a much-needed boost. Joel’s usual calm demeanor had been unwavering through most of the journey, but today, there was an underlying tension in his movements that you and Ellie didn’t immediately notice.
Joel’s breaths were more rapid and shallow, though he tried to mask it behind a determined facade. He kept a firm grip on his pack and occasionally glanced around with a slightly strained look. His face, though mostly hidden by his scarf, betrayed signs of an inner struggle that he wasn’t quite ready to share.
Ellie’s voice broke the silence, sharp and unfiltered as always.
"Are you dying?" she asked, half-joking but with an edge of genuine concern. She was walking beside you, her eyes narrowed at Joel, who hadn’t slowed his pace despite the obvious tension in his movements.
Joel grunted, his response delayed as he adjusted the pack on his shoulder. "No," he said curtly, his breath coming out in visible puffs in the cold air. "I’m fine."
"You don’t look fine," Ellie pressed, glancing at you as if seeking backup. "You’re all... sweaty and weird."
You frowned, watching Joel carefully now. Ellie wasn’t wrong—there was something off about him today. The way his shoulders hunched, his steps just a bit too heavy, like he was pushing through something. He had been quiet, more so than usual, and you could sense the strain behind his eyes whenever he glanced back at you.
"Joel?" you asked, your voice softer than Ellie’s but carrying the same concern. "What’s going on?"
He slowed his steps, finally stopping to catch his breath. His hand went to his side, rubbing it briefly before he straightened up, avoiding eye contact. "It’s nothin’," he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual strength. "Just... pushin' too hard today. We’re close, is all. No time to slow down."
Ellie crossed her arms, her eyes flicking between you and Joel with a skeptical look. "Right," she said, not convinced. "You’re not dying, but you’re also... not dying?"
Joel shot her a look that could’ve silenced most people, but not Ellie. "I said I’m fine."
You stepped closer to him, concern outweighing your hesitation. "Joel, you need to tell us if something’s wrong. You can’t carry this all by yourself."
He exhaled through his nose, the stubbornness etched in his expression softening for just a moment. "I’ll be alright," he said, though now his voice was quieter, less defensive. "Just... need a minute. We’ll keep movin’ after that."
Ellie threw her hands up. "Well, that’s reassuring," she muttered, but you could tell the worry hadn’t left her eyes.
You stayed close to Joel, watching him as he tried to steady his breathing, his hands resting on his knees for support. The tension that had been building inside you all day finally surfaced, the reality of how much you were relying on him pressing down on you. But even now, as he struggled, he was still trying to protect you both.
Joel glanced up at you, catching your gaze, and for a brief second, his walls dropped. There it was—the vulnerability he was so good at hiding, but not today. Not from you.
“I want to rest for a bit” you said, placing your hand over your swollen belly. You needed the rest, but you also wanted to force Joel to slow down a bit.
Joel’s eyes flicked down to your hand resting on your belly, then back up to meet your gaze. His expression softened, the usual stubborn resistance he wore melting away for a moment. He sighed, clearly torn between pushing forward and giving in to the obvious need for a break. You could see the struggle in him—the need to keep going, to get you all to safety—but he couldn’t deny the toll it was taking on both of you.
"Yeah, alright," he muttered, standing upright and scanning the area. "We’ll rest."
Ellie, who had been quietly watching the exchange, gave a slight huff of relief. "Finally," she said, throwing her pack down onto the snow and plopping down next to it. She stretched her legs out in front of her, rubbing her hands together for warmth. "You both needed this."
You nodded, grateful for the pause, though your focus remained on Joel. He had been pushing himself too hard, and the weight of that knowledge gnawed at you. It wasn’t just about the miles or the cold—it was the responsibility, the fear of what would happen if he couldn’t protect you both. You were carrying a life inside of you, and while you knew Joel would never admit it, that added an extra layer of pressure on him.
Joel knelt down beside you, his eyes still scanning the landscape as though danger could appear at any moment. "We won’t stay long," he said, his voice low. "Just enough time to catch our breath."
But it wasn’t true.
As night wore in, Joel had begun gathering wood for a fire, his movements stiff from the weight he carried, not just the physical strain but the burden of keeping you all safe. You watched him silently, your breath visible in the cold night air, as he crouched near a small clearing, arranging the branches and kindling with expert precision. The flicker of the firelight cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw.
Ellie sat nearby, uncharacteristically quiet, watching Joel with a mixture of curiosity and concern. She hugged her knees to her chest, her usual stream of sarcastic comments absent for now. The cold seemed to have silenced her usual banter, or maybe she was just tired, like the rest of you.
Joel caught your gaze from across the fire, his eyes locking onto yours for just a moment longer than usual. He was tired—so tired. But he wouldn’t say it. He wouldn’t admit that he needed to rest just as much as the rest of you, if not more. His protectiveness ran so deep, it was like a force of nature, driving him even when his body begged for relief.
"You should sleep," he muttered, breaking the silence, his voice rough but soft. "I’ll keep watch."
"You need to rest too, Joel," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper over the crackling fire. "You can’t keep pushing yourself like this."
He didn’t respond right away, his eyes flickering to the flames as if avoiding the truth of what you were saying. Ellie, sensing the tension, chimed in from her spot by the fire.
"Yeah, seriously, man. You’ve been on ‘protector mode’ for hours now. You’re not a machine, you know."
Joel grunted, his usual response when he didn’t want to argue but also didn’t want to agree. He poked at the fire with a stick, the sparks floating up into the dark sky. "I’m fine," he said again, the same phrase he’d been using all day, but it sounded weaker now. Less convincing.
You leaned back against the cave wall, watching him through the flickering light. He was still trying to protect you, still carrying the weight of all your lives on his shoulders. But you could see it wearing on him, the exhaustion, the fear he wouldn’t admit to, the responsibility that felt crushing.
"Joel," you said quietly, "we’re not going to make it if you don’t take care of yourself too.
His eyes snapped to yours again, something unreadable passing through them. For a moment, you thought he might argue, might tell you once again that he was fine. But then he sighed, the sound heavy with everything he wasn’t saying.
"I’ll rest when you two are safe," he said, his voice rough and tired, like he was trying to hold back the weight of the world. "I promise."
Ellie threw a stick into the fire, watching it crackle with an unimpressed look. "Great. So, we’re just supposed to wait until you collapse?"
Joel shot her a look, but it lacked its usual sharpness. You could see that even he was starting to acknowledge the truth.
And just when he was about to say something, you moved uncomfortable. 
Before Joel could respond to Ellie’s sharp comment, you shifted in your spot, a small grimace passing over your face as the baby kicked again. This time, it was stronger, more insistent, and the discomfort rippled through you unexpectedly. You instinctively placed a hand over your belly, your breath catching as the sensation overwhelmed you.
Both Joel and Ellie immediately noticed the change in your posture. Joel's eyes widened, all traces of exhaustion vanishing in an instant as he leaned closer, his expression full of concern.
“What is it?” His voice was tight, his protective instincts kicking in instantly. “Are you alright?”
You nodded, though the tension in your face said otherwise. “I’m fine… it’s just… the baby’s kicking. It’s strong.”
Ellie scooted over, her eyes wide with curiosity and a mix of awe. “Whoa, really?” she asked, her usual snark replaced by genuine interest. “Can I feel?”
You smiled, despite the ache, and gestured for Ellie to come closer. She tentatively reached out, her small hand resting on your belly. A few moments passed, and then the baby kicked again, more pronounced this time. Ellie’s face lit up, her eyes going wide with amazement.
“That’s wild,” she breathed. “It’s like… a real person in there, huh?”
Joel remained still, his expression a mixture of hesitation and uncertainty. His eyes flickered from your face to your belly, where Ellie’s hand still rested, her excitement palpable. But Joel… his gaze was distant, conflicted, as though something heavy was weighing on his mind.
You watched him for a moment, noticing the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched like he was fighting something deep within. He had been so protective of you and the baby, yet now, there was this hesitation that hadn’t been there before. Like the reality of it all was finally sinking in, and it scared him in a way he hadn’t expected.
Your heart softened at the sight of him—this man who had carried so much weight on his shoulders, trying to keep all of you safe. And now, with the baby growing inside you, it seemed like the responsibility was becoming even more overwhelming for him.
Without saying a word, you reached for Joel’s hand, gently pulling it toward your belly. He resisted at first, his eyes meeting yours with an uncertain look. But you smiled, reassuring him, and after a beat, he let you guide his hand to rest over where the baby had just kicked.
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. His hand, warm and rough, pressed against your belly, and then the baby kicked again—strong and insistent, like it was reminding him of its presence. Joel’s breath hitched, and his eyes widened in surprise. You could see the emotions flashing across his face—fear, wonder, maybe even hope—but he didn’t pull away.
He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. “That’s… that’s the baby,” he said, his tone filled with awe, like he couldn’t quite believe it was real.
You nodded, your hand still resting on top of his, offering comfort. “Yeah, Joel. That’s our baby.”
For a moment, Joel just stared at your belly, his hand still pressed against you. Then, slowly, his walls started to crumble. His shoulders slumped, and he let out a shaky breath, the tension that had been building inside him for days finally releasing.
As you watched Ellie marvel at the sensation of the baby kicking, you couldn’t help but notice Joel’s face. His eyes, though focused on your belly, were distant, clouded with thoughts you knew all too well. His silence spoke louder than any words could, and you could see the weight of it pressing down on him, the same doubts and fears he always tried to hide. But this time, there was no hiding.
Without thinking, you gently placed your hand over Ellie’s, signaling for her to stop. "Hey, El… let’s give the baby a little break," you said, your voice soft but firm.
Ellie looked up at you, confused for a second, before pulling her hand back and sitting up straight. She shrugged nonchalantly, though her eyes lingered on your belly, clearly still amazed. “Yeah, sure. That was pretty cool though,” she muttered, leaning back and poking the fire with another stick.
But your attention wasn’t on Ellie anymore. It was on Joel. His hand was still resting on your belly, and he hadn’t moved. You could see the tension in his face, the way he was trying to hold it together for both of you. He needed to rest, to let himself break for just a moment, but you knew how hard that was for him. How much he felt like everything was on his shoulders.
"Joel," you said quietly, almost more gently than you intended. His name felt different on your tongue, like it wasn’t really you speaking.
He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still locked on your belly. You took his hand and slowly lifted it away, placing it in his lap. He blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and finally looked at you. The weariness in his face was undeniable now, and you could see the cracks in the facade he always tried so hard to keep in place.
“You need to rest,” you said, your voice soft but firm, with an edge that wasn’t quite your usual tone. It was more insistent, more like a command than a request. You weren’t just asking him to take a break—you were telling him.
Joel’s brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly as if to protest, but you cut him off before he could speak.
“I mean it,” you added, surprising even yourself with the intensity of your words. “You’re not going to help anyone if you collapse, Joel. We can’t keep going like this.”
His mouth closed, his eyes searching your face as if trying to figure out what to say, how to argue with you without pushing too hard. But he couldn’t. Not this time. Not with the way you were looking at him, with that mix of worry and determination that left no room for debate.
Ellie, sensing the shift in tone, stayed quiet, glancing between the two of you. For once, she didn’t throw in a sarcastic comment. She just waited, watching the fire crackle and listening to the tension settle around you.
Joel let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging as the fight drained out of him. He nodded, though it seemed reluctant, like he still couldn’t fully let go of the idea that he had to be the one holding it all together.
“Alright,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “Just for a bit.”
You exhaled, relieved, but you still held his gaze, making sure he understood. “It’s not just for us, Joel. It’s for you too. You need this.”
He nodded again, and this time, it seemed a little more genuine. “Yeah… I know,” he whispered, his voice raw with exhaustion.
Ellie glanced up, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Finally,” she muttered under her breath, though there was no bite in her words this time.
As Joel shifted to find a more comfortable position, he laid his head against your lap, his face pressing gently against your belly. The closeness of him, the warmth of his body leaning into yours, made something inside you tighten—an emotion you couldn’t quite name but one you understood all too well. His breaths slowed as the exhaustion finally caught up to him, his body surrendering to the rest he so desperately needed.
Your hand moved on its own, fingers threading through his hair, then brushing down to caress the rough stubble on his face. The small gesture felt both intimate and protective, like you were guarding him for once, in the only way you could. His face softened in his sleep, the tension that had etched itself into his features over the last few days easing away.
Ellie, watching the scene unfold, stifled a quiet chuckle. "Well, that’s a sight," she whispered, shaking her head with a faint smile. “Didn’t think I’d ever see Joel like this.”
You gave her a soft, knowing smile, your hand never leaving Joel’s face. “Yeah, me neither,” you whispered back. The fire crackled between you, casting soft shadows on the cave walls. For the first time in what felt like forever, it was you and Ellie staying awake, the weight of the night’s silence shared between the two of you instead of Joel.
Ellie stretched out her legs, staring into the flames. “So... how’s it feel?” she asked, her voice low as if she didn’t want to disturb Joel. “Y’know, the baby. It’s kinda crazy to think that in the middle of all this... you’re growing a person.”
You let out a quiet laugh, glancing down at Joel’s sleeping form, then at your belly. “Yeah... it’s crazy,” you admitted, your voice soft but filled with a quiet wonder. “But it feels... right, somehow. Like maybe this is the one good thing left in the world.”
Ellie nodded thoughtfully; her gaze still locked on the fire. “Guess we all need something good to fight for.”
Silence settled over you both, the crackling of the fire the only sound as the night stretched on. The cave was cold, but there was a warmth in this moment, a quiet bond growing between you and Ellie as Joel slept soundly against you.
For the first time in a long time, it felt like you had a moment to breathe and be still. And in that stillness, with Joel safe and Ellie by your side, you allowed yourself to hope, just for a little while, that maybe everything would be okay.
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December 10th
We made it to Jackson today. It’s hard to believe after everything, but we’re finally here. We’re safe… but something doesn’t feel right.
Tommy was so happy to see us. To see Joel. I saw it in his eyes, the relief of having his brother back. And when he looked at my belly, he was surprised, of course, but happy. Even Maria, his wife is pregnant too. She seemed genuinely excited for us, for what this means. But Joel... Joel didn’t react the way I thought he would.
I’ve seen him handle danger, grief, and loss; nothing seemed to break him. But today, when Tommy told the news when Maria shared her news, I could see something change in Joel. He didn’t smile, didn’t share in the moment like I hoped he would. Instead, he shut down. And it hurts. It hurts to think that maybe he’s not ready for this, for us. Maybe he’s scared, maybe it’s just too much. I don’t know, but it’s like I’m carrying this alone.
I’m scared too. But I want this baby. I want us to be a family. And I thought… I thought Joel did too.
He’s with Tommy now, catching up after a long time or at least pretending to. I can feel something shifted, the distance between us growing, even though we’re finally somewhere safe. What if Jackson doesn’t fix this? What if the problem isn’t out there, but here between us?
You set the pen down and closed the journal, feeling the weight of the words settling into your heart. You glanced over at the new clothes Maria had left for you in the bed.
As you dressed in the clean, comfortable clothes Maria had left, the familiar weight of worry crept back in. The thoughts of the QZ and everything you’d been through tugged at the edges of your mind, but you pushed them aside, determined to move forward and focus on this new chapter in Jackson. This was supposed to be a fresh start. You were determined to make it feel that way.
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The cold air outside hit you as you stepped out of the house, but it was fresh, invigorating. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself and began walking through the quiet streets of Jackson, hoping that a bit of solitude would clear your head. But as you passed by one of the larger buildings in the town, you heard voices, low but familiar.
Joel and Tommy were inside.
You hesitated by the window, not meaning to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help yourself. The tension in Joel had been building all day, and Tommy’s words floated out into the cold air.
“I thought you’d be happy for me, Joel,” Tommy said, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and concern. “I’m going to be a father. Can you believe that? I thought—hell, I thought you’d understand more than anyone.”
There was a long pause before Joel responded, and you could practically feel the weight of what was about to come.
“I don’t know if I want to be a father again,” Joel said, his voice low, almost too quiet to hear. It wasn’t a confession so much as an admission, like it was something he hadn’t even allowed himself to think about until now. “Tommy… it’s different this time.”
“You’ve got someone, Joel. She’s—she’s carrying your kid. That’s not something you just walk away from,” Tommy replied, clearly trying to keep his patience. “You don’t get to be scared and check out now. That’s not you. At least, that’s not the brother I know.”
“I know that,” Joel said, but there was a tremor in his voice that betrayed him. “But I’ve been through this before. And it didn’t end well. What if I can’t do it again? What if I can’t protect them?”
Tommy’s voice softened. “You’re not the same man you were back then. And you’ve got people now. You’re not alone in this, Joel. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”
Another silence followed, and you found yourself holding your breath, waiting for Joel to say something—anything—that would give you an idea of what he was feeling. But when he spoke again, his voice was strained, full of conflict.
“I want to be there for them. I do. But I don’t know how to be a father anymore. After Sarah... it feels like too much.”
Hearing him say her name, his late daughter, hit you like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t heard Joel talk about Sarah much, but you knew how deeply her loss had affected him. The silence that followed was thick with emotion, as if Tommy was waiting for his brother to find the words he was searching for.
“Then learn, Joel,” Tommy finally said, his tone soft but firm. “You can still be a father. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be you trying.”
You could hear the clink of glasses as Tommy poured them both a drink. Joel didn’t respond right away, and you took that as your cue to move away from the window, giving them the space they needed.
As you walked away from the window, your thoughts swirling with everything you’d just overheard, you almost didn’t notice Maria approaching from down the street. Her footsteps were quiet on the dirt path, and by the time you spotted her, she was already close enough to call your name.
“Hey,” Maria greeted softly, her eyes warm but cautious. She seemed to sense the heaviness on your shoulders. “I was just coming by to check on you. How’re you settling in?”
You managed a small smile, though the weight of what you’d overheard lingered in your chest. “It’s... good. It’s a lot to take in, but it’s good here.”
Maria studied your face for a moment, as if she could see the mix of emotions brewing beneath the surface. She gave a small nod, choosing not to press. Instead, she shifted the conversation to something else. “I wanted to let you know, we’ve got an ultrasound machine here in town. It’s old, but it works. If you want, we could take a look at the baby, make sure everything’s okay.”
Her offer took you by surprise, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. The thought of seeing the baby—of actually hearing its heartbeat, seeing it move—was both exciting and terrifying. You hadn’t had the chance for anything like this since leaving the QZ, and the opportunity stirred a mixture of emotions you hadn’t quite prepared for.
“I… I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down at your belly.
Maria smiled gently, her understanding clear. “I get it. It can be overwhelming, especially with everything you’ve been through. But maybe it’ll help. You were out there for so long, it wouldn’t be bad give it a check.
You hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, maybe. I think I’d like that.”
“Good,” Maria said, her smile growing. “Okay, let’s go”
“What now?” you asked, surprised and afraid, there was a strange feeling on your heart at the thought of seeing your baby for the first time.
Maria chuckled softly, sensing your hesitation. “No time like the present,” she said, her voice calm and reassuring. “I know it’s a lot, but you’ve been through worse. This is something good, something for you. And for the baby.”
You felt a flutter of nerves as the reality of it hit you—the idea of seeing the baby, confirming its presence in a way that was more than just kicks and feelings. It was a lot to take in, and your heart raced at the thought.
“But... what if something’s wrong?” you blurted out, your voice quieter than you intended. It was a fear you hadn’t allowed yourself to voice until now, but it was there, gnawing at the back of your mind.
Maria’s expression softened even more. “That’s exactly why we check. If something’s wrong, we’ll know, and we’ll take care of it. But listen, you’ve come this far. You’re strong, and so is your baby.” She placed a gentle hand on your arm, grounding you. “You’re not alone anymore, okay?”
Her words gave you a sense of comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. You took a deep breath and nodded, more firmly this time. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Maria smiled again, “Do you want to find Joel first?” she asked
But you thought about his words, and said no.
You shook your head, the memory of Joel's hesitant confession weighing on your mind. "No," you said quietly, but with conviction. "Not right now."
Maria studied your face for a moment, her expression thoughtful but understanding. She didn’t push, simply nodded. "Alright," she said gently. "This is your moment, then. Just you and the baby."
You appreciated her respect for your choice. As much as you wanted Joel to be there, to share this experience with you, part of you knew he wasn’t ready. He needed time to sort through his own fears, and you needed this moment to yourself, to connect with the life growing inside you without the burden of anyone else's emotions.
“Let’s go,” you said, your voice firmer now, a strange mix of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside you.
Maria led the way back toward the clinic, with Ellie joining you both, the air cool and crisp as you walked through the quiet streets of Jackson. Inside, the warmth of the room wrapped around you, soothing some of your tension. As you lay back on the table, ready to see your baby for the first time, you felt a flicker of hope, a hope that despite everything, you and this little life inside you could make it.
The door creaked open, and the doctor stepped in. He was tall, with tousled brown hair and kind eyes that immediately locked onto yours. There was a brief pause as he stood in the doorway, his expression shifting from professionalism to something softer, almost as if he were momentarily caught off guard.
"Hi, I’m Dr. Paul..." he trailed off, his gaze lingering on you just a second too long before he quickly composed himself, stepping further into the room. "Paul Mesner," he added, clearing his throat, his tone now more formal, though there was a warmth in it that you couldn’t quite place.
You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, unsure of the sudden tension that filled the small room. It wasn’t overwhelming, but you could feel something shift in the air, as though Paul had felt something the moment he laid eyes on you.
Maria, standing by your side, glanced between the two of you, raising an eyebrow but choosing not to comment.
As you lay back on the examination table, the soft hum of the ultrasound machine filled the room. Maria stood nearby, and Ellie sat on a chair in the corner, her legs bouncing restlessly. Paul prepared the equipment, his movements efficient but gentle.
Ellie glanced around nervously, trying to act cool, but you could see the curiosity and excitement in her eyes. “So… this is where we get to see the little peanut?” she asked, her voice trying to mask her eagerness.
You smiled at her, feeling a sense of comfort that she was here. “Yeah, Ellie. This is where we’ll see the baby.”
When Paul applied the gel to your belly, Ellie’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t say anything, her attention fully focused on the screen. As the image flickered to life, the small form of the baby appeared, its heartbeat strong and steady. The room seemed to hold its breath.
He guided you through the process, explaining each step, though his voice was gentle, almost reverent. As the cold gel touched your skin and the machine came to life, Paul’s eyes never strayed far from yours. When he finally looked at the screen, the image of your baby appeared, and so it’s heart beating that filled the silence of the room.
“There it is,” Paul said softly, the awe clear in his voice. He glanced at you with that same warmth, but your focus was entirely on the screen. But when he looked at you again, there was something undeniably personal in his eyes, like you were the only person in the room.
Ellie leaned forward; her face lit up with wonder. “Holy shit… that’s… that’s the baby?”
You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from the tiny form. “Yeah, that’s the baby.”
Ellie’s gaze flickered from the screen to you, then back again. “That’s… insane. It’s real,” she whispered, her usual bravado melting away in the face of something she couldn’t joke about.
Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at the tiny image on the screen, tears welling in your eyes.
As you stared at the tiny, flickering heartbeat on the screen, a rush of emotions overwhelmed you. Tears blurred your vision, but you couldn’t look away from the image. It was real—your baby, alive and growing inside of you. The room was quiet, except for the steady thrum of the baby’s heartbeat echoing in the air, a soft, rhythmic reminder that you were carrying a new life.
“Ellie,” you whispered, looking at her, “you’re going to be part of this too. You’re family.”
Ellie blinked, clearly moved by your words, though she quickly masked it with a grin. “Thank you” she said, smiling down at you.
Paul’s gentle voice brought you back, and when you glanced up at him, he was still looking at you, his eyes filled with something more than just professional care. It was warmth, empathy... maybe something else.
"You’re doing really well," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he didn’t want to break the delicate atmosphere of the moment.
You smiled weakly, feeling the tears spill over, but you quickly wiped them away. "I wasn’t sure what to expect," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "But hearing the heartbeat... it’s incredible."
Paul nodded, his gaze still steady on you, his expression soft. "It’s a moment that changes everything," he said, his voice full of sincerity. "You’ll remember this for the rest of your life."
His words settled over you like a blanket of reassurance, and for the first time since you had arrived in Jackson, you felt a small sense of peace. There was still so much uncertainty ahead, but in this moment, everything felt possible.
Maria, who had been standing quietly off to the side, finally broke the silence. "It’s beautiful, isn’t it?" she said, her voice filled with genuine warmth. She walked over to you and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You’ve been through so much, but you’re going to be okay here."
You nodded, grateful for the support. But your thoughts drifted back to Joel, to the conversation you had overheard between him and Tommy. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would react when he saw this—when he heard the heartbeat and realized what was truly at stake.
But for now, you allowed yourself to just be in the moment, surrounded by the quiet reassurance of Maria’s words and Paul’s steady presence.
"Thank you," you whispered, meeting Paul’s eyes again.
He smiled, the corners of his mouth tugging upward just slightly. "Anytime," he said softly, and for a moment, it felt like he wasn’t just talking about the ultrasound.
As you, Ellie and Maria gathered your things and prepared to leave the small room, you felt Paul’s eyes lingering on you, even as you reached for the door. His gaze was soft, but intense, as if he couldn’t tear himself away. It left a strange flutter in your chest, a mix of emotions you weren’t ready to unpack.
“Thanks, Paul” you said, honestly, smiling at him.
Maria, standing by your side, must have noticed too. When you touched the door handle, ready to step out, she placed a gentle hand on your arm. “Wait for me outside,” she said, her voice calm but firm.
You hesitated, glancing between her and Paul, but then nodded, stepping out into the cool air of the hallway. As the door clicked shut behind you, a strange tension filled the room you had just left.
Inside, Maria turned to Paul, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. His gaze had been a little too fixated on you, and Maria’s protective instincts kicked in immediately.
"Paul," she began, her voice quiet but filled with a clear warning. "Don’t ever think about it."
Paul blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Maria took a step closer, her expression hardening. "I saw the way you were looking at her. But you need to understand something—she’s not here alone. The baby’s father is here in Jackson."
Paul’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, though he quickly tried to mask it. "I wasn’t—" he started, but Maria cut him off.
"Tommy’s brother," she said, her voice low and steady. "That’s the father. And trust me, you don’t want to get involved in that kind of situation."
Paul looked taken aback, the realization sinking in. He glanced down, his expression shifting as the weight of her words hit him. "I didn’t mean any disrespect, Maria," he said quietly, his tone more subdued now. "I just—"
"I know you didn’t," she replied, softening just a bit. "But I’m telling you now, for your own sake. Stay professional. Keep it that way."
Paul nodded, the intensity in his gaze dimming, replaced by something more resigned. "Understood," he muttered, his voice low.
Maria gave him a long, measured look before turning to leave. As she opened the door, she glanced back one last time, as if to reinforce her message. Then, without another word, she stepped outside to join you.
You and Ellie were waiting just outside, leaning against the wall, lost in thought. When Maria emerged, she gave you a small, reassuring smile.
"Ready to head back?" she asked, her tone light, as if the conversation inside had never happened.
You nodded, pushing yourself off the wall.
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The makeshift theater was packed with people from the community, the flickering light from the old projector casting shadows on the walls. It felt surreal, sitting there with everyone, watching a movie like things were normal. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to sink into that illusion—into the laughter, the shared smiles, the warmth of the crowd around you.
But then you saw Joel, after missing him for the whole day.
He was sitting a few rows ahead, his posture tense, eyes focused on the screen but not really watching. You’d been keeping an eye on him ever since you got there, sensing the turmoil still brewing beneath the surface. As the movie played on, Joel stood quietly and slipped out of the room, unnoticed by most. Except for you.
Something stirred in your chest, a familiar pull that you couldn’t ignore. You glanced around, checking if anyone else noticed, but everyone was still absorbed in the film. Quietly, you stood and followed him out, slipping through the door into the cold night air.
The streets of Jackson were quiet, the sound of the movie muffled behind you as you walked. You could see Joel ahead, his figure silhouetted against the dim streetlights. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his steps slow, like he wasn’t sure where he was going, just that he needed to get away.
“Joel,” you called softly, your voice breaking the silence.
He stopped but didn’t turn around immediately. You quickened your pace, coming up beside him. When you reached him, he finally looked at you, his expression a mix of exhaustion and something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place.
"You okay?" you asked gently, though you already knew the answer.
Joel let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping as if the weight he’d been carrying all night had become too much. "Just needed some air," he muttered, his voice rough, but not unkind.
You fell into step beside him, walking in silence for a while, letting the quiet between you settle. You knew Joel wasn’t one to open up easily, and you didn’t want to push him. But you couldn’t just leave him to his thoughts, not when you knew he was struggling.
"Talk to me, Joel," you said softly. "What’s going on?"
He was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening as he tried to find the right words. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know if I can do this."
Your heart tightened at his words. "Do what?"
"All of it," he said, his voice strained. "Being here... with you, the baby. It feels like I’m tryin’ to fit into somethin’ I don’t deserve. I don’t know how to be this person anymore."
You stopped walking, turning to face him, the moonlight casting shadows across his face. "Joel, you don’t have to have it all figured out. None of us do."
He shook his head, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I want to be there for you, for the baby, but I don’t know if I can protect you. I’m scared I’ll fail again."
The mention of his past failures cut deep, and you could see the ghosts of his memories haunting him. Sarah. The QZ. Every person he couldn’t save.
"You won’t fail," you said firmly, stepping closer, placing a hand on his arm. “I saw the baby today” you said with a tiny smile appearing.
His eyes flickered up to meet yours, a hint of surprise breaking through the heaviness that surrounded him. "What do you mean, you saw the baby?" he asked, the tension in his voice softening just a fraction.
You took a breath, feeling warmth spread through you at the memory. "Maria took me for an ultrasound. It was… incredible. I felt the heartbeat, Joel. It’s real. There’s a little life in there."
A mixture of emotions crossed his face, curiosity, wonder, and a flicker of fear. "And? What was it like?"
You smiled wider now, unable to contain the joy bubbling within you. "It was amazing. The little form on the screen, just... there. It made everything feel more possible, like maybe we really could do this."
For a moment, Joel’s expression softened, and you could see the flicker of hope behind his eyes. "That’s… good," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, almost as if he was afraid to believe it.
"It is," you reassured him, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between you. "And you’re going to be a part of that, Joel. You’re not just the protector; you’ll be a father. And I know it’s scary, but it’s also something to live for."
He looked down, his brow furrowing as he processed your words. "You really think so?"
"I know so," you said, reaching up to cup his face again, letting your thumb brush gently across his cheek. "You’re already so protective of us, and that matters more than you realize. You’ll figure it out as we go along."
As you stood there, the world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in that intimate moment. Something in Joel shifted, the walls he had built around his heart starting to crumble. You could see the conflict within him, fear battling against a yearning to embrace this new reality.
With a gentle tug on his shirt, you pulled him closer, your heart racing in anticipation. "Trust me," you whispered, your eyes locking onto his.
And then, without overthinking it, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his. The kiss was tentative at first, a mingling of uncertainty and hope. But as he responded, deepening the kiss, you felt a wave of warmth wash over you, as if the two of you were forging a new bond amidst the chaos.
His hands found your waist, holding you close, and for those brief moments, it felt like everything else faded away, your fears, the weight of the past, the uncertain future. It was just you and him, sharing something genuine and profound.
When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathing heavily, the world outside momentarily forgotten. The flicker of fear in his eyes had shifted to something softer, more determined.
"You really mean it," he said, his voice rough but filled with newfound conviction.
"I do," you replied, smiling up at him. "We’re in this together, Joel. No matter what."
He nodded, a faint smile breaking through the weight he had been carrying.
As the warmth of the moment lingered, Joel’s hands moved gently to your belly, resting there as if he were trying to connect with the little life growing inside you. His expression softened, and a protective instinct shone in his eyes.
“Get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “You’ve been through a lot today. We both have.”
You nodded, appreciating the concern in his tone. “I will. But I want you to come back soon, okay?”
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I will. Just need a minute to clear my head.”
With a lingering touch, he pulled his hands away, and you felt a strange mix of warmth and longing as he stepped back. “I’ll see you in a bit,” he promised, his gaze still fixed on you, as if he were memorizing every detail.
You turned, feeling lighter, ready to head back inside and allow yourself the rest you needed. As you walked away, you glanced over your shoulder one last time, catching his eye. The connection between you remained palpable, and you knew that this was just the beginning of something profound.
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As you stepped back into the house, the warmth hit you immediately, chasing away the cool night air. Ellie was sprawled on the couch, flipping through a book she'd found earlier, her legs crossed as she absentmindedly skimmed the pages.
She looked up as you entered, her face softening into a lopsided grin. "You okay?" she asked, her tone casual, but you could hear the concern behind it.
You nodded, sitting down beside her. "Yeah. Just needed to talk with Joel for a bit."
Ellie studied your face, her eyes sharp. "And? Everything good?"
You smiled gently, trying to reassure her. "It will be. We’re figuring things out, one step at a time." You hesitated for a moment before continuing, "You know, we could be a family here. You, me, Joel… and the baby."
Ellie blinked, her usual tough exterior cracking just a bit. She let out a breath, leaning back against the couch. "A family, huh?" she muttered, her voice almost too soft for her usual snark. "Never really had one of those."
"You do now," you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It’s not perfect. None of this is. But we’re all in this together."
Ellie let the words sink in, her eyes drifting toward the window as if trying to imagine what a life here could be. "Guess I could stick around," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Teach the kid how to shoot and stuff."
You chuckled softly.
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Meanwhile, on the other side of the community, Joel sat at the bar with Tommy, the weight of his emotions too much to bear any longer. He stared down at the whiskey in his hand, his knuckles white from gripping the glass too hard.
"Tommy…" Joel’s voice was low, broken, as if the words were being pulled from some deep, hidden place. "I need you to do something for me."
Tommy frowned, concern flickering across his face. "What is it?"
Joel swallowed hard; his throat tight. His eyes were red, the strain of the day finally catching up with him. "I need you to take Ellie to the Fireflies."
Tommy blinked; his confusion clear. "What? Joel, -“
"She’s immune” Joel cut him off, his voice cracking as tears welled up in his eyes. "But I can’t do it I can’t take her.  I don’t have the heart to leave my woman behind.”
Tommy’s gaze softened, understanding dawning on him. "You mean…"
"She’s pregnant, Tommy. I can’t take her with us. I can’t risk her life or the baby’s. And I can’t just leave them behind, not after everything." Joel’s voice wavered, his hands shaking as he finally let the tears fall, his tough exterior crumbling. "I thought I could do it… thought I could keep everyone safe, but I’m just not strong enough.”
Tommy leaned forward, his expression torn between concern and disbelief. "Joel, you don’t have to do this alone. You’ve got people here. You’ve got me."
Joel shook his head, wiping at his eyes. "Ellie needs to get to the Fireflies, for the cure. It’s what she’s meant for. But I can’t go, not with the baby coming. I need you to do this for me, Tommy. Please."
Tommy was silent for a long time, his heart breaking for his brother. "Joel… are you sure?"
Joel’s shoulders slumped as he nodded, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. "I don’t want to lose her, but I can’t lose them either. I can’t make this choice."
Tommy sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. "Alright," he finally said, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ll take Ellie. But, Joel...”
Joel took a shaky breath, his hands trembling as he gripped the edge of the bar. “It’s not just Ellie, Tommy. It’s me too.” His voice cracked, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself be vulnerable. “I’ve been having these panic attacks. Can’t breathe, can’t think straight. I… I haven’t felt this way since… since Sarah.”
Tommy's eyes widened, a mixture of shock and concern flooding his expression. "Joel…"
“I try to hold it together, but I’m falling apart, man. And I don’t know how to stop it,” Joel confessed, his voice breaking. “I’ll be out there, trying to protect her, trying to protect all of us, and suddenly it hits me — like a damn freight train. My chest tightens, my heart races, and I feel like… like I’m losing control.”
Tommy was silent for a moment, letting the weight of Joel’s words sink in. He'd seen his brother take on the world, survive impossible situations, but this was different. This was something Joel couldn’t fight with his fists or a gun.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Joel whispered, running a hand through his hair. "I'm scared all the time, Tommy. Scared that I’ll mess it up. That I’ll lose Ellie. That I’ll lose..." He faltered, swallowing hard. “That I’ll lose them both.”
Tommy stepped closer; his voice gentle but firm. “You don’t have to carry this alone, Joel. You never did. It’s okay to feel this way, man. No one expects you to be invincible.”
Joel let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. “But that’s what I’ve always had to be, ain’t it? The strong one. The protector. I don’t know how to be anything else.”
“You’ve been protecting people your whole damn life,” Tommy said, his tone filled with empathy. “But now… now it’s time to let people protect you too.”
Joel’s eyes were red, his jaw tight as he fought the urge to break down. “I don’t know if I can do this without her. Without them.”
“You don’t have to,” Tommy said quietly. “But I’ll take Ellie to the Fireflies. I promise I’ll keep her safe. You take care of yourself, Joel. Take care of the family you’re building here. You’ve earned that.”
Joel nodded; his heart heavy but grateful for Tommy’s understanding. He still felt the crushing weight of his fears, but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel completely alone. Tommy was there. Ellie was there. You were there. And soon, there would be a baby who needed him too.
But still, his tears silently fell as he tried to hold himself together. This was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, and it tore him apart inside. But he knew it was the only way to protect the people he loved. Even if it meant letting go.
+++++++++++++
You sat on the couch with Ellie, the warmth of the fire crackling in the fireplace nearby, casting a soft glow across the room. Ellie was watching the flames, her mind elsewhere, while you found yourself glancing down at your belly again, thinking about everything that was changing, everything that was coming.
“Ellie,” you began softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you. She turned her head slightly, her expression expectant. “I’ve been thinking… Would you wait until after the baby is born to go to the Fireflies? Just a little longer?”
Ellie’s brow furrowed slightly, as if the idea weighed heavily on her. She didn’t answer right away, and you could see the internal struggle flicker in her eyes.
“I know you want to help,” you continued, your voice gentle. “I know you want to be the cure, to make a difference. But… it’s dangerous out there. And I don’t want to lose you.”
Ellie shifted uncomfortably, pulling her knees up to her chest as she stared down at the floor. “It’s not about me, though,” she said, her voice low but steady. “I get it, you want me to stay, but the cure... it could give the baby a better future. It could give everyone a better future. And I can’t just sit here while I have the chance to do that.”
Her words struck you deep, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for wanting her to stay, to keep her close, to keep her safe. But Ellie had always been selfless, always thinking of others, always wanting to make things better.
You sighed, resting a hand on your belly as the weight of her words sank in. “I just want you to be safe, Ellie. You mean a lot to all of us. And I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Ellie smiled faintly, though her expression was filled with understanding. “I know. But… if I can do something to stop all of this, the infection, the danger, then the baby… they won’t have to grow up like this. They could have a real life, without the constant fear of what’s out there.”
The thought of that future, one where the baby didn’t have to face the same horrors that you and Ellie had, made your heart ache. She was right, and that was what made it so hard.
Ellie noticed the worry lines forming on your forehead and reached over, giving your arm a gentle nudge. “Hey,” she said, her voice softening, “don’t stress yourself out. You’ve got enough to think about. Go and rest. You need to take care of yourself, and the peanut.”
You offered her a tired smile, appreciating the concern in her tone. “You sound like Joel.”
Ellie smirked. “Guess he’s rubbing off on me.”
You laughed softly, but the weight of the conversation still hung in the air. “Just… promise me you’ll think about it, Ellie. Please.”
Ellie met your gaze, her eyes serious. “I’ll think about it,” she said, and though you knew her mind was made up, her words gave you a small sense of comfort.
With that, you slowly stood, feeling the fatigue settle into your bones. Ellie watched you with a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Go rest, Mom-to-be,” she teased. “I’ll be here.”
You chuckled softly, grateful for the lightness she brought to the moment. “Alright, alright. I’m going. Good night, Ellie.”
“Good night” she replied, smiling as you entered the bedroom.
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Joel stood outside for what felt like an eternity, staring into the darkness, weighed down by the decision he had made. He knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. The thought of sending Ellie away with Tommy gnawed at him, the fear of losing her or failing her again tightening around his chest like a vice.
Finally, with a heavy sigh, he walked back into the house, his footsteps slow and hesitant. The place was quiet, a stillness that only made the ache in his heart more pronounced. He stopped by the door to your bedroom, hearing the soft rhythm of your breathing. You were resting, just like you needed to be.
But there was another conversation he couldn’t avoid.
Joel walked down the hall to Ellie’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see her sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in her own thoughts. She turned her head when she noticed him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“What’s up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual, but there was an edge to her voice that Joel couldn’t ignore.
Joel hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. He couldn’t meet her gaze right away. “Ellie, we need to talk,” he said, his voice low and thick with the weight of his words.
She sat up straighter, sensing that something was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”
Joel rubbed a hand over his face, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was, “Tommy’s taking you to the Fireflies.”
The room fell into a tense silence, Ellie’s eyes widening in shock before narrowing in anger. “What? No,” she said, her voice rising. “You’re supposed to take me. That was the plan!”
“I can’t,” Joel replied, his voice breaking just slightly as he tried to keep his composure. “I can’t leave them behind. Not with the baby coming.”
“Are you kidding me?” Ellie snapped, standing up now, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re just gonna pass me off to Tommy like I’m some burden? What the hell, Joel?”
“It’s not like that,” Joel said, shaking his head, but the guilt was already eating at him. “I’m trying to protect you.”
Ellie scoffed, her frustration boiling over. “Protect me? you’re just okay with sending me away? Why can’t you take me?”
Joel took a deep breath, the panic rising inside him. “Ellie, I’ve been having these panic attacks,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I can’t—I’m not strong enough anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t protect you the way I need to, not with all of this happening. I don’t want to fail you.”
Ellie’s anger wavered for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Joel…,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re not gonna fail me. You never have.”
“I already have,” Joel whispered, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Too many times. I couldn’t save Sarah. I couldn’t stop Tess from getting hurt. I won’t let you get hurt too, Ellie. And I can’t leave them—her, the baby—behind. I just can’t.”
Ellie’s face softened, but the frustration was still there. “Joel, I don’t want Tommy to take me. I want you. We’ve been through all of this together. It’s you and me. You don’t get to just hand me off when it gets hard.”
Joel’s eyes were wet now, the emotions too much to hold back. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Ellie. That’s all I want.”
Joel stood outside for what felt like an eternity, staring into the darkness, weighed down by the decision he had made. He knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. The thought of sending Ellie away with Tommy gnawed at him, the fear of losing her or failing her again tightening around his chest like a vice.
Finally, with a heavy sigh, he walked back into the house, his footsteps slow and hesitant. The place was quiet, a stillness that only made the ache in his heart more pronounced. He stopped by the door to your bedroom, hearing the soft rhythm of your breathing. You were resting, just like you needed to be.
But there was another conversation he couldn’t avoid.
Joel walked down the hall to Ellie’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see her sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in her own thoughts. She turned her head when she noticed him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“What’s up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual, but there was an edge to her voice that Joel couldn’t ignore.
Joel hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. He couldn’t meet her gaze right away. “Ellie, we need to talk,” he said, his voice low and thick with the weight of his words.
She sat up straighter, sensing that something was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”
Joel rubbed a hand over his face, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was, “Tommy’s taking you to the Fireflies.”
The room fell into a tense silence, Ellie’s eyes widening in shock before narrowing in anger. “What? No,” she said, her voice rising. “You’re supposed to take me. That was the plan!”
“I can’t,” Joel replied, his voice breaking just slightly as he tried to keep his composure. “I can’t leave them behind. Not with the baby coming.”
“Are you kidding me?” Ellie snapped, standing up now, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re just gonna pass me off to Tommy like I’m some burden? What the hell, Joel?”
“It’s not like that,” Joel said, shaking his head, but the guilt was already eating at him. “I’m trying to protect you.”
Ellie scoffed, her frustration boiling over. “Protect me? I thought you didn’t want me to go at all, and now you’re just okay with sending me away? Why can’t you take me?”
Joel took a deep breath, the panic rising inside him. “Ellie, I’ve been having these panic attacks,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I can’t—I’m not strong enough anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t protect you the way I need to, not with all of this happening. I don’t want to fail you.”
Ellie’s anger wavered for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Joel…,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re not gonna fail me. You never have.”
“I already have,” Joel whispered, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Too many times. I couldn’t save Sarah. I couldn’t stop Tess from getting hurt. I won’t let you get hurt too, Ellie. And I can’t leave them—her, the baby—behind. I just can’t.”
Ellie’s face softened, but the frustration was still there. “Joel, I don’t want Tommy to take me. I want you. We’ve been through all of this together. It’s you and me. You don’t get to just hand me off when it gets hard.”
Joel’s eyes were wet now, the emotions too much to hold back. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Ellie. That’s all I want.”
“I know,” she said, her voice wavering. “But you’re all I’ve got. You can’t just let me go like that.”
They stood there in the quiet room, both of them battling their own fears and emotions. Joel wiped at his eyes, trying to collect himself.
“I’m not abandoning you,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t make this choice. I can’t risk losing all of you. Tommy… he’s strong. He’ll get you there.”
Ellie shook her head, frustration flashing across her face. “You’re not listening. I don’t want Tommy to take me—I want you.”
Joel looked at her, his heart twisting. He hated this, hated that he was letting her down. “Ellie... I’m not your father,” he said, his voice cracking with the weight of the admission. He had never said it out loud like this, and it hit him as hard as it hit her.
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Ellie looked like she’d been slapped. Her face hardened, jaw clenched. “Well,” she started, her voice sharp and bitter, “your girlfriend told me we could be a family.” She glared at him, daring him to contradict her.
Joel winced. The truth of it stung, the possibility of a family he didn’t feel worthy of. “I know,” he murmured, struggling to find the right thing to say. “But Ellie, that doesn’t mean I can risk everything—risk you—for a chance at something that might never come.”
Ellie shook her head, her eyes filling with tears she refused to let fall. “You don’t get it, do you?” she whispered. “I don’t want a family that leaves me behind when things get tough. I don’t want Tommy, or anyone else. I just want you.”
Joel’s heart shattered at her words. He saw the hurt, the fear of abandonment in her eyes, and it crushed him. He stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off.
“Ellie, please...” Joel started, but she cut him off, her voice trembling with emotion.
“No, Joel. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me without even asking me what I want. We’ve been through too much for that. And now, just when we could finally be something—be a family—you’re pushing me away.”
“I’m trying to keep you safe,” Joel repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“And what if I don’t want safe?” Ellie shot back, her voice shaking with frustration. “What if I want you?”
Joel swallowed hard, unable to find the words to answer her. He had spent so long keeping her at arm’s length, convincing himself that it was for her own good. But now, standing here, watching her fight to stay close to him, he realized how much he needed her too. How much she had become a part of his life, of him.
Joel’s jaw clenched, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He didn’t want to hurt Ellie, didn’t want to push her away, but he felt trapped. Torn between protecting her and staying with the new life that was growing inside you. He took a deep breath, his voice low and firm, but his heart breaking as he spoke.
“That’s final, Ellie,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ll go with Tommy.”
The words seemed to echo in the room, heavy and irreversible. Ellie’s face crumpled in disbelief, anger flashing through her eyes, but before she could respond, Joel turned and walked out, the ache in his chest almost unbearable.
He moved through the quiet house, his footsteps heavy, his heart even heavier. His mind raced with guilt, fear, and uncertainty. He didn’t want to lose Ellie, but he also couldn’t leave you behind, not with the baby on the way. He just couldn’t.
As he reached the bedroom where you were sleeping, he paused in the doorway. The soft sound of your steady breathing filled the room, offering a strange kind of peace amidst the chaos swirling inside him. Joel leaned against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on your sleeping form, wondering how everything had become so complicated.
He stepped inside, moving quietly so as not to wake you. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he ran a hand through his hair, staring down at his hands as if the answers to his problems might appear there. The weight of his decision pressed down on him, and for the first time in a long while, Joel felt truly lost.
You stirred in your sleep, sensing his presence. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light in the room. Seeing Joel sitting there, shoulders slumped, staring down at his hands, you felt a surge of concern wash over you.
“What’s wrong?” you asked softly, your voice groggy from sleep but laced with worry.
Joel flinched slightly, as if he hadn’t expected you to wake up. He shook his head, his eyes not meeting yours. “Nothin’,” he muttered, his voice quiet and strained. “Go back to sleep.”
But you knew better. You could see the tension in his body, the heaviness in his expression. You reached out, gently touching his arm, urging him to lie down beside you. “Joel… talk to me.”
He hesitated for a moment, the weight of the world still pressing down on him. But instead of saying anything, he let out a long breath and slid under the covers next to you. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if every action carried the burden he was trying to hide.
You shifted closer to him, resting your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, steady but faster than usual. His arm wrapped around you almost instinctively, holding you close, but you could feel the tension in his muscles, the internal battle he was fighting.
“You don’t have to carry it all on your own,” you whispered, your hand gently tracing patterns on his chest.
Joel’s arm tightened around you, but he didn’t respond right away. After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “I’m tryin’ to keep everything together… for you, for the baby… for Ellie.”
You looked up at him, your heart aching at the sight of the pain etched into his face. “And who’s keeping you together, Joel?”
He didn’t answer. He just held you tighter, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded in that moment. The silence stretched between you, heavy but comforting in its own way.
Joel exhaled slowly, the tension in his body softening just a little as he held you close. He could feel your warmth against him, the steady rhythm of your breath, and it made something inside him loosen—a little piece of that ever-present weight.
He ran a hand through your hair, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know,” he started, his rough tone softening, “I used to think I was too broken for this… for love, for family, for you.”
You lifted your head slightly, looking at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Joel…”
But he continued, his words flowing quietly into the night. “But you—you’ve been so good to me. You, with your stubbornness and your heart… you gave me somethin’ I thought I’d never have again. You make me want to be better. For you, for the baby.”
His hand traced slow, gentle circles on your back, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly, the heaviness in the air easing just a little. “You’re a sap, Joel,” you teased, though your heart was fluttering at his words.
Joel chuckled, the sound low and raspy, but it carried a warmth you hadn’t heard from him in a while. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he said with a small smirk, his eyes softening as he looked at you.
You settled back against his chest, your cheek pressed to the steady rise and fall of his breath. His hand continued to stroke your back, grounding both of you in that moment. But even as the quiet warmth between you spread, you could feel there was something deeper weighing on him still.
After a few moments, Joel spoke again, this time more serious. “There’s somethin’ I gotta do. And you’re not gonna like it.”
You shifted slightly, lifting your head to look at him again, your brows furrowing with concern. “Joel, what do you mean?”
His eyes flickered with something—guilt, regret—but he swallowed it down, forcing a gentle smile for you. “You’re gonna hate me for a little while, darlin’. But I need to do what’s right. For you. For Ellie. For this family.”
You opened your mouth to protest, worry creeping into your chest, but Joel stopped you with a soft kiss on your forehead. “Just trust me,” he whispered. “I’ll make it right.”
You searched his eyes, seeing the weight of the decision he had made. Part of you wanted to push, to ask him what he meant, but the other part knew better. Joel had always carried the burden of protecting those he loved, even when it hurt him.
Eventually, the quiet comfort of his presence and the exhaustion of the day began to take over. You rested your head back on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath you.
“I trust you, Joel,” you whispered, though your mind still whirled with questions.
He held you close, his arm tightening around you, and for a moment, he felt like he could breathe again. But he knew, deep down, that the decision he had made would change things. For better or worse, he would protect the people he loved, even if it meant you’d be angry with him for a time.
As your breathing began to slow, sleep tugging at you, Joel leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I love you,” he whispered into the quiet, his voice raw with emotion. “No matter what happens. I love you.”
You didn’t respond, already drifting off to sleep on his chest, but the warmth of his words followed you into your dreams.
Joel he couldn’t stop feeling his heart breaking at the sight of you sleeping on his chest right now. He had made you believe that safety was a place wherever he was, he made you believe that you were going to have a place to sleep next to him to keep the demons away.
Joel, still wide awake, stared at the ceiling, the weight of his decision settling heavily over him. But for now, with you sleeping peacefully beside him, he could pretend that everything would be okay, just for a little while longer.
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You slowly woke to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, stretching and blinking against the brightness. As your mind cleared, you reached for Joel, but the spot next to you was empty. A sense of unease settled in your stomach.
Sitting up, you glanced around the room, noticing the stillness. That’s when your eyes caught sight of a folded piece of paper on the nightstand, the sight of it sending a rush of anxiety through you. You could see your name written in Joel's familiar handwriting, and your heart sank.
You reached for the letter, your fingers trembling slightly as you unfolded it. The words blurred for a moment, but you forced yourself to focus, the reality of the situation washing over you as you read:
Darlin’,
I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I have to do this. I’m leaving you here while I take Ellie to the Fireflies. I thought long and hard about it, and I believe it’s what’s best for all of us.
I can’t risk losing you or the baby. I don’t want to drag you into danger. This is something Ellie needs to do, and I can’t leave her behind. I hope you can understand.
You’re stronger than you know, and I trust you to take care of yourself. I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise. Just… please take care of yourself and the baby.
I love you.
—Joel
Your heart raced as you reread the letter, each line cutting deeper than the last. Confusion, anger, and heartbreak swirled within you, each emotion colliding as you tried to process his decision. He was leaving. Leaving you behind to take Ellie away, and you had no way to stop him.
You stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as you rushed to the door, but there was only silence on the other side. You felt a surge of frustration and fear; how could he think this was for the best?
After a moment, you took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself. You could be angry later, but right now, you needed to find him. You grabbed your jacket and hurried out of the bedroom, determination pushing you forward.
“Joel!” you called out, your voice echoing through the empty house. There was no response, only the quiet that surrounded you. You raced down the hall, hoping to find him somewhere inside, but he was nowhere to be found.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you stepped outside, the cool air hitting your skin. You squinted against the light, scanning the area for any sign of him.
The sight of him made your heart drop. Tommy’s face said everything. He looked worn, the weight of the situation clear in his eyes, and that only fueled your rising panic. You rushed toward him, emotions spilling over as tears began to blur your vision.
“Tommy!” you cried, your voice breaking. “Have you seen Joel? He… he’s leaving me here!”
Tommy stepped forward, his arms opening instinctively as you reached him. You collapsed into his embrace, the warmth of his support contrasting sharply with the cold fear wrapping around you. As he held you close, your tears flowed freely, each sob echoing the pain and confusion swirling inside.
“It’s okay,” Tommy murmured, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”
You buried your face in his shoulder, the reality of the situation crashing over you like a tidal wave. “He thinks he’s doing what’s best, but he’s not! I can’t believe he would leave me.”
Tommy held you tighter, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I know. I know it hurts. But Joel cares about you—about both of you—more than anything. He’s just scared.”
“But I need him here!” you exclaimed, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes, the pain reflected back at you. “I don’t want to be left behind. We’re supposed to be a family!”
“I’m your family,” Tommy whispered, his voice steady and sincere.
You felt a flicker of comfort in his words, but it didn’t erase the emptiness Joel’s absence left behind.
………
“Tommy,” Joel had said, his voice low and urgent as he leaned closer, eyes dark with concern. “I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything,” Tommy replied, sensing the gravity of the moment.
“Take care of my baby,” Joel had insisted, his expression fierce. “Promise me they’ll be okay.”
Tommy had nodded, ready to reassure him. “Of course, Joel. I’ll do everything I can to keep the baby safe.”
But then Joel’s gaze sharpened, a hint of desperation in his voice. “No, I mean my baby,” he clarified, referring not just to the life growing inside you but to you as well. “Promise me both will be okay.”
Tommy had felt the weight of that request, the unspoken fears underlying Joel’s words. “You have my word, brother. I’ll protect them both.”
……
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cherryredstars · 3 days
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Cherry, I’ve always wanted to say this to you… You. Are. Amazing! I seriously can't get enough of your work!
How about this? Reader is a TV host that bashes on Spider-Man. However it is just a job to her and doesn’t believe in the things she rants about. Anyway, one day reader is caught in the middle of one of Spider’s Man foes and our favorite grumpy spider saves her. Though he is extremely rude to her when she tries to thank him (what else is new?). Reader has to convince him that she doesn’t hate him (the opposite in fact) and decides to show him her appreciation.
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Thigh Riding, A Little Electricity(??)
A/N: Thank you, lovie!! Enjoy!
Unedited
The world must hate you.
The stiffness in the air is haunting as the burly hero trails behind you, making sure you don’t make more trouble. You weren’t exactly looking for it, it just came to you. How were you supposed to know actively looking for one of the biggest criminals in the past few weeks for a story could be dangerous?
Okay, maybe he had a point.
You sigh, trying to subtly glance over your shoulder. Even through his mask, you can see the grimace he directs at you, pixels slightly distorting. You thin your lips, rubbing your arm. Great, even Spiderman is after you.
“Um,” you start, turning to face him. He crosses his arms over his chest and you try not to let your eyes linger on how it tightens his suit. “My house is just around the block, I’ll be fine from here.”
He doesn’t move, continuing to stare down at you like you’re a child. You gulp, balancing on the balls of your shoes before slowly turning around and walking forward with a dragged out whisper of okay. You lead him down the block until you stop in front of the entrance to your apartment complex.
You face him once again, putting on an awkward smile.
“Thank you for, uh, escorting me home.” The hero says nothing, looking over you for any injuries before starting to turn around.
Your hand rushes out, electricity pulsing under your fingers for just a second as you grab his arm before he shakes you off.
“I don’t mean those things.” You rush out, suddenly desperate to clear the air with your favorite hero. “I-it’s a job. Just a job.”
You can hear the small scoff he lets out from under his mask, something in you deflating slightly. You open your mouth again, but no words come to mind to reassure him. You clamp your mouth shut, a stupid idea coming to you. You reach out, grabbing his arm again and turn him to face you. You’re quick as you lean up and press a hard kiss to his mask, your lips tingling from the buzzing technology. Instinctively, Miguel grabs at your waist to steady you on your toes, a low grunt leaving him.
You pull away, clearing your throat. Embarrassment flushes your skin and you sharply turn away. You really are stupid or something. “Good night.”
You stalk towards the entrance door, body moving like a robot as you avoid the burning gaze at your back. You open the door, turning when you feel hot electricity directly behind you. Your eyes stay on his chest, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.
“I’ll walk you to your door.”
What he really meant was, I’ll follow you through the door and proceed to fuck you against it.
You let out a soft moan as he presses you against the wall, pressing a suited thigh between your legs as he guides you up and down it. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, digging in so strongly that the suit glows white under them. You can feel his lips at your skin, mouthing and sucking on the delicate curve of your neck. Your pencil skirt has folded up to your waist, leaving only your panties to protect your aching clit from the subtle buzz and zaps of his suit as he grinds you on him.
You throw your head back, a whimper leaving you from the harsh hold he has on your hips. You can tell he’s trying to get you off quickly, probably in a rush to get back on the streets and protect the rest of the city. But right now, he’s here, in your apartment with his sharp fangs teasingly dragging against your skin.
You wonder if he can feel the wetness of your parties through his suit, if he is able to smell the pure arousal wafting from you as you buck your hips against his thigh with heavy moans. You try to look down at his face, only to see the bottom half revealed so he can mouth at you. You whine in disappointment, even though the rational part of your brain understands why he won’t reveal his full identity.
He seems to smirk at the nose, flexing his thigh and making you gasp as your clothed cunt runs over the corded muscle. A small curse flutters from your lips as another pleasant flicker of electricity runs over your clit, your orgasm just over the horizon.
Miguel speeds up his movements, making you grind faster against his leg until he’s sure you’re about to glitch out his suit from how hard you grab onto him. You come with a strangled cry, cunt fluttering against his suit as his teeth give a small nip to your neck. The tiniest dose of venom hits your skin, but it’s enough to leave your post-orgasm state limp. You slump against him, twitching from the aftershocks of pleasure and his suit. He ever so gently moves you to the couch, laying you down as his mask fully obscures his face again. You’re left to drowsily stare at him as he approaches your window, opening it before disappearing into the night.
What a way to thank your heroes.
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tengensangel · 3 days
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Fade into you.
Boxer!sevika x topside!reader
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a/n - I really hope you all enjoy this fic! English is also not my first language so I’m very sorry for any mistakes! Anyway I love sevika so much I want her so bad.
Wc: 1258
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It was just another day for you, you had just finished up classes and were on your way home from college. Being a nursing student was definitely not easy. You got home and greeted your mother and fed your cats, ladybug, and Leo. You head up to your room and set your stuff up so you can start studying and doing assignments when you get a message from your friend Sam.
Sam <3: be ready at 8pm tonight, we're going out with the others. Wear something cute ;).
You wanted to decline the offer, but you knew how stubborn Sam was, so you just sighed and agreed. You study for the next couple of hours before you decide to get ready to go. You really had no clue as to where you guys were going, you just hoped it wasn't anywhere dangerous. Walking to your vanity, you start applying your makeup, deciding to go for a natural look. After all that, you decide to put on some flare jeans and a black tank top, deciding to just leave your hair as it is. After getting ready, you get a text from Sam letting you know that she and the others are here. You weren't really close with Sam's other friends, but it was fine. You sneak out of your bedroom and walk over to the meet-up spot. You spot Sam and run over to her.
“Hey Sam! Where are we going exactly?” You were curious. Sam was never the kind of person to tell you where you were going until the last second. Her answer surprised you.
“We miss goody two shoes are going to zaun aka the under city to watch an underground fight!” Sam said very enthusiastically. You gave Sam a look that said ‘what the fuck?’ but she just ignored it before dragging you and the others down with her. Was this really a good idea? Probably not, but you don't want to look like a loser in front of everyone or Sam, so you didn't say anything. After a little bit, you guys arrive in the undercity. Everything was different here. The people, the buildings, the atmosphere, everything. Staying close to Sam while she's taking you to your destination.
“Sam, is this safe at all?” “Oh absolutely not. We're here though!”
Looking at your surroundings, you notice how there is a boxing ring dead in the center. Did she just take you to see an illegal boxing ring? You notice that there's a bar and dance floor off to the left. God, could this night get crazier? Taking hold of your arm, she takes you guys closer to the boxing ring. People started piling in and crowding around you all, you saw people placing bets and getting drinks. Maybe you should have declined Sam's offer.
You can't hold that though for long before the announcer starts hyping the crowd up. You see one big man enter the ring, but you don't even focus on him because you see a woman enter the ring and shake off her dark magenta-coloured robe. She must've been 6’3 at least, her short brown hair tied up in a bun. Her muscular body looked like it had been sculpted by the gods themselves, her scars made her look intimidating, but in a perfect way. The announcer introduces the man to the crowd, but you don't care, being too focused on the big muscular woman standing in the ring, finally he calls her name.
“AND TO MY LEFT IS THE ONE AND ONLY SEVIKA FROM THE UNDERCITY!!!”. After that, the crowd went absolutely insane. She must be very popular here then. He then tells them it's time to fight. Before the man can get any hits on Sevika, he gets knocked out. 45 seconds, 45 fucking seconds.
The crowd goes absolutely crazy, crazier than before. The announcer announces her as the winner and after that some people leave, some stay and go to the bar. You let Sam know that you are going to the bathroom and that you'll be back soon. You were so unfamiliar with this place, so you kinda assumed where the bathroom was. You find a red door and a similar one beside it, so you assume these are the bathrooms. You push the door open, now seeing Sevika was not on your list for tonight. There she was in her shorts and tank top, her hair now down a cigarette in her mouth. She's looking you up and down, yep, and that is how you get beat up and die!
“I'm so sorry I thought this was the bathroom! I'll leave right away!” she had to understand, right? It was just a mistake, yeah, an honest mistake.
“Relax dove, you look like you're about to pass out or something.” What? Did you just freak out for no reason at all? She's just chilling with this? Feeling relieved, you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. Sevika just continued to look at you, she couldn't lie seeing you in that crowd made her feel a sort of protectiveness for you. It was weird because everyone knew that Sevika never had relationships, she was a person who fucks and leaves. Sevika knew you and your buddies were not from around here, she'd never seen you before. Your friends have come here before on multiple occasions. It almost made her mad to see you here. You shouldn't be here.
“Name’s Sevika. You probably know that though, Dove. What's your name?” Oh, she wanted to know who you were.
“My name is Y/n. Yeah, I saw you knock that guy out in 45 seconds! That's actually insane.” she lets out a little chuckle and getting up, she walks over to her. She noticed the confused look in her eyes. She really shouldn't feel this way towards you. Why does she feel like she wants to know absolutely everything about you? How your days are spent or how you like your coffee. God. She needs to snap out of it. Love means weakness, Something Sevika can't have. She's only ever known violence in her life and she's never really questioned it. You felt her lean down a bit. She tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“I should go now, Sevika, my friends are probably waiting for me.” you fidget with your fingers, feeling a little nervous under her eyes. She backs up after a bit, giving you space. You really wanted to see her again, not wanting this to be the last time you two met.
“Come see me next week, Dove, I'm up again.” you nod and leave her room. God, what did you just get yourself into? Is this finally your way of rebelling against everyone in your life? Why did you feel this way towards Sevika? She's from the undercity, and she's a fighter, and you were the complete opposite. It'll pass. I mean it has, so you can't fall for someone who's from the undercity, can you?
You spot Sam and the others and practically beg for her to take you home. You felt tired and a bit overstimulated. you got to your house, and climbed the tree that's by your window and sneaked into your room. If your parents ever found out you were out this late they'd probably ground you for life. You hop into your bedroom and change your clothes before hopping into bed. The last thing on your mind before you drift off is sevika.
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animasolaoriginal · 3 days
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I n f a t u a t e d ♦️TWELVE
CHAPTER ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE TEN◾ELEVEN TWELVE
As he drags her deeper and deeper into his world, introducing her to yet another dominant character, she quickly realizes it's all too much. Or is it?
ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush
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WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Praise kink. Free use/power play. Fem!Dom. Bondage. Fingering. Sex toys/vibrators. Double penetration. Overstimulation. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 9.2k
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ELEVEN 🟥 TWELVE 🟥 THIRTEEN
The worst thing about being measured isn't the act itself, but how this woman keeps handling her as if she were a doll, talking about her as if she weren't even here. She's glad he's with her, and his presence does give her enough comfort to endure whatever the seamstress does to her next, but it's still an ordeal she really doesn't want to go through. Even if it means he'll buy her new clothes, clothes that will really fit her body, not just randomly picked shirts and skirts and underwear that came always only close to properly fitting her.
He's putting in so much effort for her, probably leaves quite a sum in this strange store, and she is grateful, but she also has never been this humiliated in her life – and that is after spending an entire weekend with a stranger who choked her on his cock, fucked her ass as if it were the most natural thing and made her lose control over her body in the most mortifying way.
It is actually this other woman that makes her feel worse than he could ever make her feel (though forcing her to walk around with his cum leaking into her underwear and that woman definitely noticing is a weird little transition between the two). While he always made sure she was okay afterwards, she is downright mean to her.
Called her an object. Actually slapped her.
She also has cold, clammy hands, and the way her measuring tape cuts into her skin and pokes at her nipples and other sensitive areas is not how she expected to be treated here. Not that she expected to be brought to a tailor in the first place. The entire day (and it's only a little after lunch, she assumes) has been far from anything she could have ever expected. Packing up her stuff, leaving her apartment for the last time presumably, letting him lead her into a new life... It is, simply said, more than overwhelming.
The ordeal continues, and she is either staring at the floor, biting her tongue to keep quiet and still, or she's looking at him, how he leans against the wall, strong arms crossed over his chest, in his fancy suit, so tall and intimidating and strangely enough the only anchor she has here. His gaze is intense, and she can only imagine what he is thinking about, fantasizing about.
Probably how he will take her next, and the thought alone makes her squirm on her feet a little, the heat seeping right between her legs where his cum is still caked into her panties, warm and wet, initially a mortifying feeling (because she knows the other woman must have seen it too), but also weirdly comforting. His mark on her, almost as obvious as the countless bruises on her neck that still throb slightly when she moves her head.
But as with most of her aches, she's ignored them enough to almost forget about them. They're part of her now, of her situation, her life. She's still trying to wrap her head around it all. She's living with him now. Staying with him, more likely. Will he keep her in his bed, locked into his bedroom when he's not there? How will this go? Will he lock her up like a pet or give her more freedom? What would she prefer?
She doesn't know, and while she is caught in her thoughts about it, she suddenly feels a soft slap to her butt cheek that startles her. “All done,” the seamstress says in a mock friendly tone, and while she stares at her, she notices him walking closer, a cold “Tsk” on his lips that makes the other woman flinch slightly.
His hand closes around her wrist as he pulls her off the platform and against him, and she looks up in relief, focusing fully on him now, even though his eyes are fixed on the tailor behind her.
“I'll have your order ready by tomorrow,” she says, and he nods while his hand moves to her lower back, warm and comforting as he pulls her a bit closer.
With how she tilts her chin up to look at him, she doesn't notice what's going on behind her, and frankly, she doesn't care about the seamstress anymore. She wants to forget about this whole thing as soon as possible.
“Raise up your arms.” His voice makes her blink, and she realizes she has just stared at him without paying any attention at all. He's stepped back a little, let go of her, and now her dress, the little pale pink one he chose for her to wear, is in his hands.
She lets out a surprised gasp, but obliges and raises her arms, still focusing on him, though a little bit more present when he pulls the dress over her head and smooths it down her body. His hands slip around her neck and into her hair as he frees it from the collar, thumbs brushing over her jaw as he looks down at her, a strange mixture of a dark hunger and a soft admiration shining in his eyes. She bites her lip, a nervous gesture she's utilized a lot lately, and he raises an eyebrow as he watches her closely. She stops immediately, taking a shuddering breath.
He cups her face, his own a stoic mask, before he straightens up again and lets go of her, exhaling loudly. Without another word, he grabs her hand, nods towards the tailor she had already erased from her mind, and pulls her out of the room, back along the narrow hallways to the door they had entered through. Instead of turning to the elevator, he walks to the left, further into the belly of the building until they reach another unassuming door.
She's never been behind the scenes of these fancy department stores before (and she assumes that's where they are – the normal places she's bought clothes at before certainly didn't have their own tailors in hidden backrooms, just bored teenagers waiting for their shift to be over), and despite the rather humiliating start, she is fascinated by it. His world is so different from hers, it makes the whole situation feel more like one of those princess makeover shows instead of the abduction movie that it is.
As she was being measured, her mind had gone all different directions, back to the beginning, crossing over that sentence that made her question everything: “You made me take you,” he had said, making it sound as if it had been all her fault. And maybe it had been. She had approached him, made the literal first move, and he had reacted. Not the way he probably should have, but does it even matter now? Abduction sounds so much more serious than what she had experienced with him. He might have taken her, but she can't remember anything of the actual taking, so maybe she did agree to it?
And maybe she even agreed to all the vile things he did to her, and maybe they had felt a little wrong to her just because she was so inexperienced, had nothing to compare his behavior to. If anything, she now knows a lot more, about sex, about her own body, about his body, about the thin line between pain and pleasure, and most of all, she knows that despite her initial reluctance, she wants this, whatever it is, with him. As long as she's allowed to stay with him, as long as he keeps giving her that precious head-empty-feeling, she will be fine with whatever he does.
Even though her stomach is tensing up, in the worst way, at the mere thought of what that may be. Even after a weekend of being used in ways she could have never imagined, he is still the most unpredictable man she has ever met. And it scares her – more than it excites her, though she's learned to come around eventually. Emphasis on come...
Inhaling deeply, she watches him as he raises his hand to rap his knuckles against the door they've stopped in front of. But then he seems to hesitate, his eyes moving down to meet hers. She feels a blush creeping up her neck at the intensity in his gaze, but it's when he suddenly crouches down in front of her that she lets out a soft yelp. His hands slip under her dress, fingers hooking around the waistband of her panties, and while she stiffens, on the verge of protesting, he pushes her underwear down her legs so swiftly she can only stumble back slightly.
As he balls up the garment in his big hand and stands up again, she stares at him in confusion, instinctively pressing her thighs together at the sudden loss of fabric between them. He puts her panties into his pants pocket, an unreadable expression on his hard face. Instead of giving her any explanation or doing anything else to her, he turns back to the door and knocks.
Her head is spinning, and to ground herself, she focuses on her surroundings again. The hallway around them is bland, as is the door, but there is a tiny sign with a symbol on it, and when she realizes what it portrays, she feels a single bead of sweat run down between her shoulder blades. It's got the shape of a freaking butt plug.
Her hand twitches against his leg on instinct, and he meets her gaze for a moment as she stares up at him with widening eyes. He only has time to give her a crooked smirk before she can hear footsteps on the other side of the door. It opens and takes his attention away from her. Slowly she follows the motion and feels her heart sink at the sight in front of her.
“Ah, what a lovely surprise,” the woman that greets them says with a strangely exotic accent that she can't place. She is... beautiful, to say the least. Dressed in a tight black dress that leaves nothing to the imagination, accentuating an impressive bust as well as a narrow waist and wide hips, the woman balances on precariously high heels, shiny and bright red, her legs are long, her arms are toned, golden rings and bracelets hang from the hands she extends towards the man next to her, completely ignoring her.
He steps towards the woman whose long hair falls in heavy waves around her slim shoulders, framing a face that could belong to a model for sure. High cheekbones, full lips, long dark lashes, a smile that would disarm anyone – but it only creates a deep, dark void inside her stomach as she watches the tall woman throw her arms around the slightly taller man. Something cold grows within her like tiny little ice flowers when he puts his big hands lightly on her tiny waist, the same hands that have been on her body before...
She feels like a literal child next to the two adults, not just small, but hideous in her pastel pink sundress and old shabby sneakers, while the handsome man receives not one, but three kisses on his cheeks from the woman who moves so elegantly on those shoes slash murder weapons that she feels unsteady just looking at her.
Once their greeting ritual is over, she hooks her arm around his, throwing a blinding smile at him and slowly pulls him through the open door, whispering something she cannot understand that makes him smile back at her – all while she, the tiny girl, is left standing on the bland hallway with her heart racing and something ugly festering inside her stomach.
The strange feeling dissipates the moment he suddenly turns back and looks at her, extending his hand, and she almost trips over her own shoes as she steps forward and grabs it, too eager to follow, too eager to touch him as well. The smile on the woman's face freezes, turning cold and fake as her dark eyes follow his gesture, and she feels a shiver crash down her spine as they meet hers.
She quickly averts her eyes, squeezing his hand tightly as she catches up and almost presses into his side, trying to hide behind him to get away from the scrutinizing gaze of the other woman who's let go of his arm to hold the door. Together they leave the unassuming hallway and step into a space that doesn't feel much better.
It's a wider hallway, the walls are black, and as she brushes the knuckles of her free hand against them she notices that they feel soft like velvet, shimmering slightly in the dim, almost purple light shining from the fancy chandelier hanging high above them. She looks around curiously, sees various doors, framed by golden trim, adorned with golden details and handles. It looks expensive, exclusive, too fancy for her tastes, but it's not the luxury that twists her guts. There's a faint smell in the air, and she can't quite put her finger on it.
The woman walks past them, fixed on ignoring her, her heels thudding softly over the carpet. She turns to the second door on the left, that fake smile back on her beautiful face as she looks at the man she's clinging to like a lost child. He keeps holding her hand as they follow her into another room. The light is brighter here, the walls lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves that hold various sizes of black boxes she cannot look into.
The door clicks shut behind them, and the smell becomes overwhelming. Like rubber, plastic, with a strangely sweet undertone, earthy like leather. Artificial, weirdly familiar. She swallows dryly. They walk to the middle of the room, there's some sort of bar, and the woman steps behind it while he pulls her to the other side, nudging her to slip onto one of the two bar stools while he remains standing behind her, one large hand on her shoulder to hold her there.
She feels him close to her, his warmth a comfort she certainly needs when she lets her eyes wander through the room once more. And slowly, very slowly, it dawns on her. He brought her to a freaking sex shop.
Apart from the unassuming boxes on the shelves, there's a wall, plush looking and red, that holds an array of objects that make her frown and shiver: things that looks like riding crops and canes, whips and paddles, some solid, some with holes, most made of leather, some with wood, expensive looking, intricate, and she forces herself not to think back to the few times she's followed her curiosity into the darker corners of the Internet.
Despite her great aversion to sex toys, she knows of them (before she was forced to experience them), seen them in use in various porn clips and gifs, she may be inexperienced, but she hasn't been living under a rock. Though her desire to pleasure herself has been majorly dulled after seeing one too many of these darker themed videos centered around helpless girls in precarious situations, unable to move, bound and gagged and then... tortured, there's no other word that comes to her innocent mind. It had been deeply disturbing.
It's only now, after spending more than 48 hours with a man who would seem to enjoy exactly those kinds of clips, that she learned that there is pleasure in pain, but she still doesn't want to get near any of the objects hanging from the wall. She can still feel the phantom pain of his hand on her butt cheeks when he'd spanked her, she can't imagine what it must feel like to be hit with a wide leather paddle or a thin wooden cane.
Shuddering deeply, she looks away quickly, but her gaze only falls onto another display, another plush wall, this time there are hand cuffs hanging from hooks, things that look like collars and leashes, leather and metal gleaming in the soft lighting. There are even masks and muzzles and blindfolds and... gags. More items she doesn't want to learn more about.
When she brings her attention back to the woman behind the bar, she notices that she's watching her with a dark smile, full lips curled, a glint in her eyes. She clears her throat and turns slightly to look up at the man behind her, and he has the same glint in his eyes. Her frown deepens as she looks from one adult to the other. (She's technically one as well, but still feels like a damn child between them.)
“I have to admit,” the woman says in her sweet, exotic voice, “I am a little surprised. You visit me so rarely, and usually not with... this kind of company,” she adds with a smile, her eyes moving away from her to him, and she feels him shifting against her, his hand curling around her shoulder, and despite the somewhat possessive touch, she feels that coldness poking at her insides again when she imagines these two alone in the same room, surrounded by sex toys. “Did you come to pick up your order?”
“No,” he replies, his deep voice vibrating against her, cutting through her dark thoughts. “I doubt you have it ready so soon.” The woman's smile turns a little sour at his mocking tone, but she keeps her facade, tilting her head slightly, shifting from one leg to the other as she leans against the bar. “I need something more immediate, to go, if you will.”
A surprised laugh escapes the older woman before her eyes land on hers, and while she looks back at her in confusion, she smirks darkly. “To go, huh? That's why you brought your little pet?”
It's like another sting inside her, being called a pet after being called an object, but she tries her best not to let them see how flustered she really is, not only by the names, but by the implications. She's in a sex shop, and whatever he wants to buy for her, she already knows she'll hate it. It's only been this morning that she woke up with a damn dildo stuffed inside her, held in place by a freaking harness. Does he really want to fill her up again? Can't he give her a break?
No. Of course he can't. She is his to use, to have, to control, he'd told her that, and she can't say no, because she somehow agreed to this. Submitted to him. And if they'd be in his penthouse and he'd ask her again to choose one of those many colorful toys he stores in his bedside table, she'd be somewhat okay with it, but it's the place, it's the woman, it's everything that happened prior, that makes her wary, that twists her stomach, that feels worse than anything he'd made her do before.
She feels the blush creeping up her neck even before the woman bends down to pick up something stored beneath the bar, and when she puts a large glass case in front of her, her heart sinks and her cheeks burn up fully. It's two rows of items lying on soft looking red velvet, and by now she can tell by the shape of them, where those are supposed to go. She feels the respective holes clenching in terrified anticipation. Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she fights the shudders crashing through her body, her fingers clawing at the hem of her short dress.
He steps beside her, his hand still on her shoulder, his grip tight, demanding, as he leans closer to take a look at the display on the bar.
“The usual?” the woman asks, and she notices how he stiffens beside her, and it's that motion that distracts her from her spiraling thoughts. The two words hang in the air, making her wonder. She actually never questioned his large collection of sex toys, but it makes sense. He's a popular man, she's seen him disappear with various girls before he had finally picked her. It shouldn't surprise her that there have been others in the bed he'd taken her virginity in, others he's used those toys on. (She just hopes he's cleaned them afterwards...)
How he now looks at the woman though, it feels strange. As if she said too much, said something she shouldn't have said. It only deepens her frown. Before she can make sense of it, a deep vibration hums in the air, and she looks down at the glass case with a raised eyebrow, goosebumps crawling over her exposed arms, but it's not one of the toys, it's his phone.
He lets go of her shoulder and pulls it from his pocket, then sighs as he glances at the display. “I gotta take this,” he says, letting the device buzz in his hand while he moves his free one over the spotless glass. “That one,” he says quickly, his voice harsh and business-like, pointing to one of the larger, longer items in the case, and while she stares at him, his words and choice settling heavy in her stomach, the woman nods with a professional smile. “Prepare her for me?” he adds with a last look, and she can hear the sharp inhale and slight hesitation of the shop owner (and frankly, she feels the same. What now? What kind of service is that?).
“Of course,” the woman says despite her initial reaction, her voice calm and friendly, while her face is a mask of dark disdain as she watches him turn around and leave the room with quick steps, the phone already pressed to his ear – and the girl squirms on the stool, eager to follow him, absolutely not wanting to stay here, alone, with that woman, surrounded by freaking sex toys and horrifying bondage equipment – and the prospect of being prepared to take something up her ass again.
Her heart clenches as she fists the hem of her dress, trying to ground herself, her breath quickening when the woman taps her manicured nails on the glass case in front of her. She looks up timidly, meeting a rather sinister smile that makes her skin crawl with goosebumps.
“Well then,” the woman says and stores the display case back beneath the bar. “Let's get... ready then, hm?” She walks towards one of the shelves and picks up a medium sized black box, then nods towards a corner of the room that's partitioned off by a heavy looking curtain. “Get in there,” she adds, her tone much rougher than before.
“Yes, ma'am,” she mumbles, unable to stop the words. It's a reflex, an instinct, an inborn thing to obey when met with people like this. Demanding, dominant. She's just surprised this works with women as well.
Shuffling on her sneakers, her thighs still pressed together, she makes it past the curtain, and freezes. It's a room filled with strange benches, plush ones, leather ones, some lower to the ground, some higher up, definitely shaped to accommodate a body draped over them. There are wooden structures behind them on the wall, boards in an x-shape, and when she notices the hand cuffs dangling from them, she feels a cold shiver rushing down her spine.
“Bend over that one,” the woman tells her, her formerly flowery voice cold and demeaning now, and she follows the delicate hand pointing to one of the benches, a leather one shaped like a triangle of some sort.
Unable to stop herself, she walks to it, inhaling deeply, her whole body shaking, but somehow she does as she is told and presses her stomach against the soft leather, then bends forward, her hands gripping a metal bar on the bottom to steady herself. It's a strange position, leaving her rear completely exposed, and it's only after she's bent over, that she realizes that he took her panties from her.
A soft laugh comes from behind her, pushing even more blood into her already red face. “You came prepared, huh?” the woman mocks, and she flinches badly when she feels two hands on her hips, slowly moving up the thin fabric of her dress. “Of course you'd be. He always thinks ahead...”
Her comment distracts her from the humiliation of the situation. Always? He's brought girls here before? Then again, why is she surprised? She's established he's a popular man with unique tastes, why should she be the first to go through this treatment? Swallowing hard, she grips the metal bar tighter, resting her cheek on the cold leather beneath her, trying to breathe her fears and doubts away.
A sudden slap makes her yelp, her body convulsing against the bench. “So responsive, good,” the woman whispers, more to herself, while she flips her skirt up fully, scratching her seemingly gloved hand over her throbbing ass cheek, the sound of the rubber making her skin crawl. “So, are you familiar with having things up your pretty little bum?”
When she doesn't reply immediately, the hand is back on her rear, the smack even louder, crashing through her nerves instantly. She gasps, almost chokes on her spit, before croaking out: “Y-yes, ma'am.”
“Yeah? Like what? Dainty little metal plugs? Vibrators? Cocks?”
“M-metal ones,” she whispers breathlessly, shame burning through her body when she adds: “And... c-cock...”
It's one thing to experience those things, but talking about them with a complete stranger? And she thought being measured by a rude woman was bad. Her day seems to spiral more and more, so even the idea of being roughly fucked on a desk, unprepared and raw, sounds better than having to endure this. Actually, anything that includes him would be better right about now.
She feels tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she wonders where he's gone, when he comes back, if he comes back, why he's left her alone with this woman in the first place, why he lets her get so close to her body that's presumably all his...
A sudden stab of something cold rips her right out of her thoughts, her choked yelp coming almost a second too late, when she feels a thin finger pushing into her puckered hole without hesitation. She clenches around it as the woman moves something wet and cold around her insides. A whimper escapes her at the feeling, it's soothing as much as it is uncomfortable. The finger retreats, she hears the squirt of some liquid, and another cold dollop of what she assumes to be lube finds its way into her ass.
Weirdly enough this feels better than when he had his fingers inside her, dry and rough, forced and unexpected, and for a moment her body is confused by the attention, her core clenching, warmth settling low in her stomach, her thighs twitching slightly against the bench. But then the woman adds another finger, pushes deeper, and she feels her long sharp nails on her tense muscles, even through the glove.
Stiffening under the sensation, she grits her teeth, forces down her noises, doesn't want to draw too much attention to herself, wants it to be over soon. Her mind is spinning. Why is she even allowing this? She's come to terms when it came to him, wanting to please him because he gave her a new life, but this woman? Will she never be able to say no ever again? Will she let anyone do to her whatever they want? Is this what she's become?
A groan is forced out of her throat as she feels more pressure on the tight ring of muscles when the woman adds another finger, or maybe she's even using her whole hand now, she can't be sure, it feels like too much, stretching her, pushing deep, the lube squelching out of her with an obscene noise that makes her shiver deeply.
But then the strange sensation is gone, and she's left empty, her muscles clenching in confusion, her breath quicker, her heart thundering inside her chest, a single tear running down the side of her face. She hears the crinkling of paper behind her, the squirt of the lube bottle again, gloved hands rubbing over a wet surface. It's still a surprise when she feels something solid pressing against her sphincter, no matter how well she's been prepared.
As it is pushed deeper into her ass, she sees the shape of it in the glass case, sees his finger pointing at it, and she shudders deeply. It's longer than any plug she's had, not as long as his cock, but close, and luckily not as girthy, but it's made of differently sized balls pushed into a hard line, and she can feel every single bump as it slips into her, how her muscles tense around it, then give way, allowing the next to move in.
The woman is surprisingly gentle, but she still lets out quiet whines as the toy fills her up. Then it stops, resting hard and heavy inside her, and she yelps when her ass cheek is slapped once more, causing her muscles to clench around the insertion, holding it in place. She sniffles, biting her lip, trying to adjust. It feels strange, unfamiliar, but ultimately not as bad. Not that she can do anything against it anyway...
“What an obedient little pet you are,” she hears the woman's voice behind her, almost soft, as she moves her wet hands over her skin, her thumb poking at the base of the plug. “I'm almost jealous he found you first...”
Another slap clears the confusion in her head as she rocks against the bench, gasping. She feels her dress being pulled down again, then hears the sound of gloves being removed with a snap of rubber. She's still breathing a little harder when she's nudged off the bench and forced into a standing position again. Her legs are shaking, that object inside her moving with every twist and turn of her body, making her flinch.
“Thank you, ma'am,” she hears herself saying, her eyes glued to the floor, head bowed in a mixture of submission and shame, but there's something else swimming in the back of her mind as well. Gratitude, excitement at being praised, even if it wasn't by him.
The woman laughs softly. “Call me Mistress, pet,” she says, her long nail scratching along her throat as she grabs her chin and makes her look up. “You've earned it.”
She stares at her, chest rising and falling faster, her core clenching involuntarily. “Yes, Mistress,” she echoes quietly, making her opposite smile warmly.
Footsteps sound behind her, and she dares to break eye contact when she sees him pushing the curtain aside and entering the room. She blushes deeply, averting her eyes, standing stock-still while the woman lowers her hand and turns around.
“All done,” she says with a tilt to her head. He nods approvingly, stepping closer, his large hand suddenly finding her arm before he twists her around and presses her back to the bench.
She gasps, stiffening when he rips her dress up to expose her rear, then presses his finger to the base of the plug, forcing a choked groan out of her throat. “Any trouble?” he asks, rubbing over her probably reddened cheek.
“No, she's been very obedient,” the woman replies, and he huffs a grunt in response.
“Good,” he says and pushes her dress back down, before gripping her arm again and pulling her against him. She stumbles slightly, looking up at him. He meets her gaze, and a smile creeps onto his stoic face. “How do you feel?”
He's asked her the same thing when he has stuffed the dildo into her cunt, and back then she has felt full, it has been uncomfortable, strange, and having the larger plug in her butt still feels weird, with her muscles trying to adjust to the unfamiliar intruder by clenching around every bump of it, but overall she feels... okay.
“I feel fine,” she replies quietly, trying herself at a shy smile as he studies her face.
“Fine, hm?” he repeats with a dry laugh.
He looks away then (and she follows his gaze), nodding towards the woman who extends her hand to him, holding a piece of paper with a QR code on it. One hand on her shoulder, he slips the other into his pocket and retrieves his phone, quickly scanning the symbol, before the smile widens on his handsome face, almost turning diabolical.
She wonders what made him so happy, what's this all about, but then something strange makes her flinch, something from within. A yelp escapes her, and she grips onto his arm in surprise, feeling her muscles vibrating. No, not her muscles, the plug inside her. It's humming, buzzing against her flesh, a deep thrum that makes her entire body shudder. Her core clenches in response, her thighs trembling, and she leans against him helplessly.
He watches her with interest while his thumb moves along the screen, and the motion bleeds into the movement of the vibrating plug. It gets stronger, harder, throbbing inside her, coaxing little moans out of her that turn into gasps that turn into whimpers. She's clinging to him, and luckily he lets her, as her body quickly gets overwhelmed by the assault of sensations pulsing through her, all centered deep within her ass, but soon her cunt starts contracting too, clenching around nothing, and she cries out, squeezing her eyes shut.
“So responsive,” she hears the woman's voice, it's quiet and barely registers in her clouded mind, but she senses the hidden praise and it only makes everything worse.
The vibrations crescendo once more, loudly buzzing now, her whole body shaking, her nails digging into his arm, her lips parted, her shoulders hunching, her back arched, her legs feel like jello, everything moves, hums, shudders, muscles clench, convulse, contract, and she can only manage to issue a single croaked groan before she collapses against him, something warm and sticky dripping down her inner thigh.
He holds her, one strong arm around her, and slowly the thrumming gets weaker until it stops altogether, leaving her still shaking badly, the phantom sensation of having her insides vibrating clinging to her like she clings to him.
“Still fine?” he whispers, pressing her into him, his lips brushing against her damp forehead.
She's breathing harder, her heart still beating out of her chest, but she nods, a dumb little smile creeping onto her lips. “Yes, sir,” she mumbles, the words swimming out of her unchecked. Head empty, how lovely. He chuckles softly into her hair, before he slowly extracts her from himself, grabbing her shoulder to look at her. She can barely stand, but tries her best to remain upright, as she looks up at him out of hooded eyes.
He tilts his head, a curious glint in his gaze as he watches her closely. “Give me the same thing for her cunt,” he then says, the words barely make sense to her, but the woman moves behind him, replying with an amused: “Good idea.”
Her leaving footsteps are drowned by the soft yelp she issues when he suddenly picks her up and carries her towards another bench. This one is reclined, like a lounge chair, and she sinks into the soft leather, relaxing, eyelids fluttering, but as soon as he raises her legs and puts them into strange contraptions that hold them up and spread far apart, she slowly comes down from the high he's forced upon her.
He's standing between her open thighs, hands on her shins, holding her in place, his eyes wandering over her exposed lower body. She blinks in confusion, still buzzing with the aftershocks of her orgasm. The plug rests still and heavy inside her, the relaxed position pushing it a little deeper. She inhales sharply, wondering what's going on.
The woman returns, holding another black silicone toy in her newly gloved hands. There are leather straps hanging from her right forearm. A harness, she recognizes, and somehow that brings her down to earth with a force she hasn't expected. He wants to fill her even more, plug her up fully, and these things aren't normal dildos, they are vibrators, and he can control them with his phone. Oh for crying out loud!
She squirms in her seat, her legs kicking fruitlessly against his hold. He shakes his head and lets out a few “Tsk”s as he looks at her. It takes her a moment to obey the unspoken command, and it takes even more self-control to force herself to sit still. She bites her lip hard, breathing loudly through her nose as she looks from him to the woman and back, her heart beating harder again.
Once she's somewhat calm, he takes his hands from her shins, watching her closely, assessing if she'll stay calm, but then he sighs and fumbles with the thick leather bands attached to the contraptions that hold her legs up until they are bound in place, and she tests them immediately, tensing against them, but they won't budge. Her mind starts spinning as a strange kind of panic settles deep within her stomach.
He leans in then, a hand on her face. “Shh, it'll be alright, relax,” he soothes her, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip. “Be a good girl, okay?”
She lets out a whine and nods obediently. He's playing dirty. He always did, but this feels like betrayal (and it's not even that he doesn't trust her to stay still, that he saw the need to restrain her), it's because he isn't alone. The woman watches her curiously, a dark smile on her full lips as she twists the toy between her long fingers. “Do you want me to prepare her?” she asks sweetly, her eyes boring into hers, sending a cold shiver down her spine.
“No, I'll do it,” he replies quietly, his hands already sliding down her inner thighs. And she's glad he does. The woman she's supposed to call Mistress still feels a little suspicious to her. She wants to feel good, sure, if she has the option, but not by her hands. He is the center of her new world, she doesn't need the confusion that comes with someone else pleasuring her.
Though this doesn't seem to be about her pleasure. With how they both look at her, she feels like a rabbit forced into a corner with not one, but two predators staring down at her, like grinning hyenas, eager to play with her.
And somehow it's all wrong when she feels his fingers sliding along her outer lips. What should have been an intimate gesture, a shared moment, a mutual exploration, is now a witnessed thing, with her being on full display, strapped into that strange chair-like bench, it would be almost clinical if it weren't for the soft lighting and dark interior of the room.
She's acutely aware of the woman watching his every move, how his fingers rub over her mound, creating these highly embarrassing squelching sounds when they dip between her folds, and she can't help it, she squirms, strangled whines escaping her as she turns her head away and squeezes her eyes shut.
Footsteps round the bench and then she feels two hands, gloved and a little cold, on her jaw, holding her head, turning it back, before a soft breath brushes against her forehead. “Open your eyes, pet,” the woman whispers, and she shivers, eyes flying open on instinct, a croaked gasp slipping from her parted lips. Her wide gaze finds his, and he watches her, stern, stoic, head tilted slightly, as he continues to rub his hand over her sex.
She's stiff on the bench, breathing harder, heart thundering, held by the woman's hands and the leather bindings around her legs, but it's his dark stare that freezes her to the spot, makes her shiver involuntarily. Pressing her lips into a thin line, she forces herself to relax, to focus on him. He holds her attention as he finally dips a finger into her already clenching hole, and she lets out a muffled moan at the sensation.
For a moment he just looks at her, moving his digit in and out slowly, testing the waters, teasing her resistance, almost a little too keen to coax those lewd sounds out of her wet cunt. Her nostrils flare as she fights the shame trying to burn up inside her. To soothe her, the woman presses her fingertips against her throat, applying soft pressure, but her sharp nails still scratch along her skin occasionally. She furrows her eyebrows, almost loses the battle against all these kinds of stimulation.
Eventually she does, when he adds another finger and really pumps into her now, and she feels her hips bucking, her shoulders tensing, body shuddering intensely. Her suspended feet twitch in their restraints, her toes curl, and she parts her lips to let out a wanton cry, her eyelids fluttering. He prolongs the moment of bliss by curling his fingers and bullying that special spot inside her with hard thrusts of his hand until she thrashes her head into the woman's hands and moans loudly, eyes rolling back, vision turning white.
And it's all gone for a moment, her orgasm crashing through her like a cleansing wave, letting her forget all about the strange room with its strange contraptions, the shop full of toys and whips and gags, and it's just his strong fingers guiding her through the exploding lights behind her eyelids, her body seemingly floating... if it wasn't for the pair of hands holding her neck.
The number of hands confuses her, and she slowly drifts down again, limbs relaxing, all of her sinking back down on the soft bench, while her heart is exploding inside her chest, her breath coming and going in hard puffs to fill her lungs with air again.
“Good pet,” a soft female voice whispers into her ear. “What a display...”
“Th-thank you,” she croaks out, still dizzy from her release, not sure who she's thanking and why, but the inborn instinct loosens her tongue enough to allow the words to spill out. Pointy nails dig into her throat, and she gasps, eyes fluttering open, the added word “Mistress” flying from her quivering lips.
But when the woman behind her eases her grip, her eyes fall onto him, and his gaze is darker than usual, eyebrows knitted, jaw clenched, and she lets out a strange whine, bucking up from the bench, wanting to get closer. Her hands, that have been gripping the sides of the bench in sheer panicked necessity, fly up and reach for him. She manages to slip from the woman's hands, but with her legs raised up and held in place as they are, she sits in a strange position, barely able to hold herself up, but her fingers still brush against the front of his shirt, fruitlessly trying to grab onto him.
“I'm sorry,” she whispers, feeling the need to apologize, tears burning under her lashes. He watches her, standing so tall and intimating between her legs, one of his hands raised, shimmering in the light, her juices dripping past his knuckles.
She feels the woman retreating, and suddenly his wet hand is around her throat as he folds himself over her, and she gasps breathlessly, hands now gripping at his wrist, eyes wide, lips parted in a silent cry.
“Right you are,” he hisses, his voice low and dark and dangerous. “You are mine, and only mine,” he looks up when he says those last words, and she hears a shuffle behind her. When he looks back at her, she stiffens even more, holding her breath (not that she could breathe anyway with how he squeezes her throat). “So what do you say to me?”
Her mind is blank with fear (and strangely enough a bit of arousal, may it be the remnants of her orgasm or a new wave of excitement), so it takes her a moment to understand his question, causing him to apply more pressure on her neck, but once she moves her jaw, he eases it and lets her speak, or lets her try to speak.
“Th... tha... thank y-you,” she stammers, her voice hoarse and feeble, her breaths panicked and fast, so she tries again. “Th-thank y-you, s-sir.”
Her attempts calm the anger that has overtaken his handsome face and it relaxes. He exhales loudly, and nods, slowly leaning back, his hand moving to slip around her head, gently squeezing her nape as he watches her, before he leans in again and presses his forehead to hers, staring deeply into her eyes.
“You are mine,” he says again, his voice vibrating through her. “Mine to use, mine to have. Is that right, darling?”
“Yes, sir,” she replies, much quicker, holding his gaze, feeling herself sinking into his eyes, his dominance, his guidance. “I am yours.”
A smile grazes his tight lips, and she could have sworn he is fighting the urge to kiss her, show her the affection he usually would if they were alone, but they are not, so he just leans away, lets go of her and straightens up. She relaxes into the bench, hands falling limply onto her stomach, fingers curling into the hem of her dress, her eyes following his every move.
He inhales deeply, his large form growing for a moment, before he breaks eye contact and turns to the woman who has retreated into the shadows (and she wishes she would stay there). She hands him the black silicone toy, already lubed, shiny in the dim lighting, its shape a little different from the plug still sitting heavy in her ass. It's a little thicker, about as long, but more rounded, imitating the shape of a cock but only just, also bends a little as he rolls it between his long fingers.
She stares at him, waiting for whatever happens next. Her mind is still buzzing from what already happened, from entering this store to being bent over and plugged and pleasured, to being strapped down and pleasured all over again, and it's not over yet. Despite the dizziness swirling within her, her body is already reacting to the sight in front of her, as he approaches her, steps between her legs again, the shining item in his large hand. Her chest rises and falls faster, heart still beating as if it wants to jump through her ribcage, palms sweaty and lips dry in anticipation.
He holds her gaze, a little glint in his eyes while hers are wide and fearful. She doesn't even know anymore why she prefers fingers over sex toys, maybe it's more natural, more personal to feel somebody's heat instead of a cold, lifeless item. A toy pushed into another toy. Does it even matter? She shouldn't fight this, she knows that, he won't like it if she did, but she can't stop the involuntarily twitch of her body, the bucking of her hips, the strain in her spine as she tries to move away from where he's pointing the dildo.
His hand is on her stomach, large and heavy, pushing her down but also grounding her, giving her that warmth she's missing, and somehow she calms a little under the touch, every deep inhale pushing back against his palm. In her raised position with her legs spread so wide open, she can see when he rubs the silicone toy between her wet folds, gathers her slick, adds it to the lube shining on the smooth material.
He prods the tip against her entrance, and she stares, holding her breath, tensing up despite herself. His hand presses harder into her stomach, coaxing a gasp out of her, the motion making her look up at him, and he looks at her, hard, but his eyes seem warmer, reassuring, calm, sure of what he's doing, telling her it's okay. And it is okay. She inhales deeply, clenching her fingers around the fabric of her dress as she tries to relax the rest of her body.
She reminds herself she's had a toy inside her before, for several hours to be exact, and it was okay, more or less. She's felt full and a little stiff, but it was okay. She has been able to sleep with it lodged inside her no problem (kindly ignoring the outcome of that endeavor). But then she realizes she is not in his penthouse, not in a bed, but in a store, in the middle of the city, and she is supposed to walk around with not one, but two toys wedged inside her holes. How the hell is that supposed to work?
“Ah!” A pained yelp breaks from her throat as her thoughts are rudely interrupted by him pushing the dildo past the initial resistance and then continuously further, without hesitation, deeper, forcing it past her tense muscles, and she whines at the sensation, at feeling so incredibly full, and even worse when she feels the toy nudging against the other one in her ass through the thin layer between.
She writhes on the bench, almost howling now by how strange it feels to be stretched this much, to be filled this much, and suddenly the woman's hands are back on her shoulders, pushing her down, holding her in place. She feels tears streaming down her face as she watches him out of hooded eyes, vision blurry, her body still fighting the intrusion, clenching, tensing up even more, her legs kicking fruitlessly in their leather bindings, but he doesn't seem to care, just pushes the toy as deep as it will go, and she sees it disappearing inside her, feels it prodding her innermost spots, or so it feels, stretching her limits.
The hand on her stomach presses down again as if wanting to feel said toy through her skin, and she is certain it has to bulge out of her with how deep it is inside her, but when he removes his hand, there's nothing, just her fluttering belly, flat and covered in a thin layer of sweat. The woman hands him the leather straps she's carried earlier, and he starts arranging them around her thighs and her waist and hips, nudging her shuddering body to accommodate his handiwork.
Her whines are breathless little gasps now, her arms shaking from how hard she clutches at her dress to ground herself. She barely dares to breathe with how full she feels, how snug the harness sits around her lower body, holding everything in place. The last buckle is closed and secured, and she stares down at the contraption, those thick black leather straps, shiny and expensive looking, straight out of one of those BDSM clips she's stumbled across before. And in stark contrast to that, there's her pastel pink sundress, wrinkled from how she's holding onto the skirt part, with its cinched waist and modest neckline and those cute little white flowers.
And the girl on the bench is confused, to put it mildly. How is this happening? How did she end up strapped to a bench in a sex shop and plugged up by a toy in each of her holes, holes that have been virginal only a few days ago, holes she wouldn't even touch herself. Surrounded by two dominant adults, who are now stepping back to marvel at the sight in front of them. Surely they must see the contradiction too, how innocent she is on the surface while her insides are stretched and bullied by those silicone things that have no right to feel this invasive and yet so...
It's growing on her, to say the least. The longer they sit within her, slowly becoming a part of her, or so she hopes, the less stressed she is about it (well, we'll talk about how she is supposed to actually walk with them later). At least she thinks so now, lying on the bench, unmoving except for the nervous flutter of her stomach, with everything resting.
And while she calms down, savoring the quiet moment, the woman and the man walk behind her, out of her line of sight, and for a few more minutes, nothing happens – until it all explodes.
She almost jerks off the bench when the first vibration crashes through her. It's a single stab of movement deep within her, the attached toy throbbing hard against her tense muscles, and in turn pushing even harder against the other toy, and she bucks her hips, cries out, kicks her legs in their restraints, her hands flying to the harness between her thighs, clawing at the straps as she whines in protest.
“Relax,” sounds his voice, loud, demanding, echoing in her ears, and instantly grounding her as she stiffens, body shuddering as it is forced to remain still. She's breathing harder, frozen in her cramped position, before a hand pushes her back onto the bench.
He reappears between her legs, one hand on her knee, rubbing soothing circles into her skin as he looks down at her, the other hand holding his phone, his thumb pressed to the screen. She watches him breathlessly, new tears burning in her eyes. The hum grows inside her as he moves his digit over the device, and she clenches around the vibrating toy, grits her teeth, forces herself to endure.
His hand moves down her leg, short fingernails scratch along her inner thigh, teasing her sensitive skin, scraping over the leather straps. She is fixated on his fingers, focusing, distracting herself, and she realizes the harness sits low on her hips, a thick leather band running from her pubic bone all around her mound until it comes back up between her ass cheeks, tight and snug, thinning. And it sits right over her clit, and all he has to do, is push it down against it, and she wails, kicks her feet helplessly, convulses uncontrollably.
He holds the pressure, moves his thumb over the screen again before the buzzing grows stronger inside her. She thrashes her head back, hips arching upwards, insides singing with these unfamiliar sensations, and he pushes further, increases the vibrations once more, drives her closer and closer to the edge (of pleasure or insanity, she isn't sure at this point).
Her noises are loud and shrill in the room, the sound dampened by the velvet walls and other equipment, her throat quickly straining under the constant stream of whines and wails and cries, as she spasms on the bench, not even registering how the woman holds her shoulders, fingernails seemingly digging into her skin through the fabric of her dress.
She is overwhelmed, more than that, is barely able to breathe, to function, to think. Everything is buzzing, humming, twitching, fireworks explode behind her eyelids, pain crashes through her, turning into waves of pleasure that pull her away, threatening to drown her. Amidst the inescapable bliss, she hears a different kind of humming, voices, soft, amused, maybe even mocking, not that she cares.
“Such a sensitive little pet.” bleeds into a deeper thrum of “Good girl.”, and the praise spirals her even higher until she fades away into unconsciousness, letting go completely.
ELEVEN 🟥 TWELVE 🟥 THIRTEEN
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End notes: So I wanted to introduce a female character that could fuel our poor girl's jealousy, but then Mistress stepped into my head and dominated everything. That's just how it goes sometimes. She makes another appearance, but I'm not sure if I want to keep her, maybe in the next season? We'll see.
Also sorry for the confusion I'm sure I created by writing a scene with two unnamed females, I hope it came through who did what and wasn't too redundant either.
Thank you for reading!
Next chapter on Sunday!
TAG LIST: @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels @voiceactivated @reader-1290 @untamedheart81
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AO3 / / / MASTERLIST
CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE◾ SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾TEN
ELEVEN
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scrawnymthrfckr · 2 days
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I'm going to a concert today, Aurora's tour to be precise, and the worms in my brain have me hang up on what type of concert goer each of the OUAW members is, so here are the headcanons I came up with:
Gricko: music festival veteran. there is no other way, like he probably has multiple Woodstock t-shirts, but also goes to Coachella, he is excited for the festival experience first and foremost. He also definitely goes to small, local bands performance in some random pubs, since he probably performed these type of shows with his goblin college band
Frost: prefers the seating sectors if the concert is in an arena, or is the type of person that would rather stand in the back and just vibe on his own, not paying much care if he's close to the stage (the crowd is too much for him). He also doesn't shy away from earmuffs of some kind if he knows the show will be intense, but he'd probably rather go to a philharmonic than a rock show (Gricko drags him along though)
Gideon: rather a casual concert goer, he's the friend that will always take up a spare ticket if you have one, even if he doesn't know the band he'll be excited to go and have fun with friends. Oh but if there's a moshpit he's a genuine health (and fire) hazard. He loves moshpits and goes full in every time, but is cautious of not actually hurting anyone and helps people get out if they need
Kremy: a menace. The type to be ready an hour before the tickets go on sale to get the best ones and likely the one to camp outside the venue too to be the first one to go in. He is dedicated, if there's a fan project for the show he definitely prepares, checks the setlist and always gets tour merch. Also likely buys extra tickets to resell them later lol. Additionally, since Kremy loves jazz, he is definitely close to the performers and pub/bar owners in Ougway (I hope I spelled it right)
Torbek: probably buys tickets from Kremy at an extra price- no I'm kidding (partially). Torbek is there for the vibes! He sometimes forgets there even was a show he was supposed to go to and listens to the artist's whole discography maybe a week before, but still is one of the loudest people in the arena, having the time of his life. Also a moshpit enjoyer and likely laughs while bouncing off people like a kid.
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yeah :) that's all I wanted to share, if you want to add to these please do!!
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Idk if you ever did an ask like this but I thought it was kinda cute
SO and skelly went out for ice cream, someone then bumped into skelly (or something startled them) and made their ice cream drop. SO, being a great datemate, offers them their ice cream instead. Reactions?
Undertale Sans - Aw. Nah, he gives it back to you. He's not a big fan of ice cream in the first place. He appreciates the gesture though. Just walking with you is already enough for his happiness.
Undertale Papyrus - Nonsense! You're not the one who makes the ice cream fall, it's that random person and he's going to explain the situation to the ice cream seller to have a new one. There's no way he's stealing your ice cream.
Underswap Sans - He's embarrassed and gives the ice cream back to you. He's not a big fan of sugary food in the first place. He's still salty about the money he lost though! Ice creams are expensive in this part of the town and he's so mad he didn't get to eat it. He hopes he won't see that guy again because he might tell them what he thinks of that.
Underswap Papyrus - Oh :( Honey looks at the ice cream on the floor, sad. It's probably his fault, he's too clumsy. He's happy when you propose your ice cream but insists you share it. You paid for that, he doesn't want to ruin your fun. He still calls you his hero though.
Underfell Sans - He doesn't hear you, he's too pissed off by what just happened. Red is going to drag the poor guy to the ice cream stand and make them pay for a second ice cream. You stare from a distance, wondering if you should intervene or let him have his moment of glory as he gets what he wants eventually.
Underfell Papyrus - "NO, THAT'S OK. I WAS TOLD A VERY YOUNG AGE THAT GOOD THINGS NEVER LAST LONG IN THIS PATHETIC WORLD." Ok, wow, now you're very concerned and insist he gets your ice cream even more. Edge is very dramatic about it, but eventually accepts to share yours very reluctantly. You swear he's going to be your end someday.
Horrortale Sans - He stares at you with wide eyes. No, he can't do that! That's your food! What if you starve? You still insist he has it. Oak is very touched and ends up taking it like it's the rarest treasure he ever held. He still buys you a gigantic one later that day because the thought you might be starving still stays in his head. And he doesn't want that.
Horrortale Papyrus - What? No! Keep it, it's yours. He always has random things to eat in his pockets, you need your ice cream more than him. You're a bit concerned if he's having a traumatic episode or not as he seems to confuse a bit the Underground and the real world suddenly. You force him to sit for a bit and go to buy another ice cream so you don't stress him more. He's VERY thankful for that.
Swapfell Sans - No. He's grumpy and salty so he's going to be a pain in the butt and says no to everything. He's pouting, and despite being a literal millionaire, you're the one who goes to pay him another ice cream so he stops acting like a child. He wants to refuse it at first, just because, but you give him the big angry eyes and he ends up accepting it. He won't stop criticizing the taste though lol, just to be annoying.
Swapfell Papyrus - What? No! He could never take that ice cream from you. But that's fine because you know what else he has? A brother holding another ice cream. Nox growls at him, protecting his ice cream, but then Rus says that surely Nox wouldn't want Alphys to know the general of the royal guard can throw temper tantrums over ice creams, think of his reputation! Rus ends up having his ice cream, Nox is a jerk with you for the rest of the week despite all of this not being your fault at all. Only Rus is happy in this story.
Fellswap Gold Sans - He gives you a look of pure disdain. What do you think? That he needs your pity? He huffs, continues to walk and completely ignores you. He has his pride, but it's hard to take him seriously with that huge chocolate stain on his white shirt honestly. You prefer not to mention that, you have a feeling he's not going to like it.
Fellswap Gold Papyrus - You got a bit scared he might actually lick the ice cream from the floor. Coffee's eyes shine as you give him your ice cream. Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! He tackles you for a hug. Your ice cream crashes on the floor because of the hug. ... Ah.
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autumn-foxfire · 3 days
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IT'S TIME! FIST OF BLUE SAPPHIRE! THE NUMBER ONE KAISHIN MOVIE!
How interesting though, that this movie is set after Ran and Shinichi are officially dating but they went for KaiShin instead with ShinRan sprinkled in from time to time. I guess they were like "you had your cheek kiss, let the gays have something" and we appreciate them for doing so!
And that card is how poor Kaito is dragged into this sinster plot T-T
I appreciate the movie actually understanding Ai's character better than Gosho does. This should have been her response when Shinichi had pestered her for the antidote for the school trip.
I still don't know why Yuusaku hasn't used his "many" connections to help his son get a passport but Kaito's solution worked too. And is a lot gayer.
Kaito really likes to dress up as cute girls XD We stan a gender non-conforming thief.
We don't acknowledge enough how gay Kaito's "I've been waiting a long time for you," is. We know honey. The boy still believes that he's straight but he'll get there.
Did Kaito strip Shinichi to put all that tan on him? I just need to know. Because that is also very gay of him (also creepy but he was only did it because he needed Shinichi's help and he knows that Conan can't be in Singapore so he's just being a good future husband protecting his identity).
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Shinichi always sees Kaito as so handsome.
The second best part of this movie beside the Kaishin? We get really cute Makosono.
It's funny that Sonoko says "they have good vibes between them" but we know that Ran is already aware that this is Kaito and she's acting to catch him off guard. She's a better actor than Shinichi and now I believe that she's always acting when it comes to Shinichi.
Kaito and Shinichi are already being gay with one another. Come on guys, get a room. Shinichi has just been kidnapped and he does not give a shit because it was his husband that did so.
Agasa totally made that suitcase. Jii definitely had him make it. What I'm saying is that Agasa is a bro and wanted Shinichi to have a date with his boyfriend.
Shinichi and his love for Sherlock Holmes T-T
Ran is very pretty in this dress by the way. It's a shame that her wife isn't here. My only complaint about this movie is that there is no Sera even though she definitely should have been.
This movie shows us why KaiShin are such a great couple with one another. There's no tension between them, they're always on the same wavelength and it's amazing.
Makoto showing us why he's an amazing boyfriend and why he and Sonoko are so great together!
Sonoko is very gorgeous in this movie.
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I love how he panics. When Shinichi panics he drops all pretense but with Kaito, he keeps his grin on his face, probably because of how he's trained his poker face but all it does is make him look manic XD
Kaito's love for sweets is being seen too T-T
Sonoko is the most supportive girlfriend.
It can't be a double date Sonoko with Ran, Ran's wife isn't here sadly. But you can have a double date with KaiShin.
Ran: This is definitely not Shinichi. He is not a smooth talker at all. And he would not interact with my dad that way.
This movie actually also shows us Ran's intelligence, though it's only revealed at the end. What I'm going with this is that SHE. SHOULD. KNOW.
One complaint, again. But how come Makoto gets to have muscles. It's not very apparent but they're there. Ran should get them too.
We love a self-confident Kaito. And Shinichi being exasperated at his husband for being so.
The jealousy Makoto has towards KID is actually one of the few in the series that I don't mind because Sonoko is very open about how she is attracted to KID (though she has assured Makoto her heart is his and even here she makes sure he knows that).
You know Leon saying Kaito's hands belong to that of a magician is also something Ran uses as confirmation that this isn't Shinichi.
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You know Kaito is annoyed because it's Shinichi that deserves all the praise that Kogoro gets.
We know that Ran knows this is Kaito, so I'm willing to be she also knows that Arthur is actually Conan and that's why she's okay with this small child who is all alone following them around. Let her be the intelligent women that she is.
Kaito, my smart boy.
AND HIS FIRST HEIST STARTS.
HE'S SO ACROBATIC. HE'S INCREDIBLE. Although, it's because he's so acrobatic that I find it hard to believe his hands are "supple" like it's said. Gymnasts are prone to calluses on their hands due to it. I guess the excuse is that Kaito wears gloves, but that doesn't actually stop them from forming.
MY POOR BABY GOT TASED. AND THEN ALMOST DROWNED. This is the Kaito goes through it movie.
Leon: I am one step ahead.
Shinichi: Hold my beer.
KAITO JUST SHOOTING THE GUY WHO GETS IN THE WAY IS SO FUNNY. He knows who the danger is.
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Kaito your adrenaline junkie is showing.
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He's so goddamn pleased that Shinichi helped him.
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Shinichi: Got to save my idiot husband.
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He looks so good in this movie.
And Shinichi just casually waiting for his husband to pick him up is so goddamn cute of him T-T THIS MOVIE IS SO GOOD T-T
They're so adorable, flying over the city while discussing a case. It shows how much trust they have in each other.
And there's the obligatory Shinichi and Ran. I can't even be made about it because I'm being fed so well.
Shinichi is so flustered that Kaito is actually interested in why he chose his name. He's not used to it.
AND HE'S SO CONCERNED FOR KAITO.
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Someone pointed out that Kaito doesn't hold his hand over his heart, he usually holds it more to the left. So there is a reason he does so for Shinichi and that reason is gay, gay, homosexual gay.
Lol I just noticed he stole Shinichi's shoes and put him in sandles.
And the acting award goes to Ran! She's doing all of this just to catch out KID and we love her for it!
In fact, she knowing that this is Kaito but chosing not revealing that it is actually gives support that she to my idea that she knows Arthur is Conan and that there must be some way he brought Conan here that was illegal so the only way he can actually get him back home is to let Kaito be arrested in Japan. In this essay I will-
ANOTHER GREAT THING ABOUT THIS MOVIE. Ran is showing off how much she enjoys martial arts too.
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The distance Ran put between herself and Kaito is so interesting (and Sonoko doesn't even notice, suggesting she'd do the same for the actual Shinichi).
I'm assuming that Kaito raided Shinichi's wardrobe because Shinichi likes pink shirts with white. He wore it in London and now Kaito is wearing pink and white in Singapore.
I love Kaito's disgrunted look in the background when Kogoro says he won't get the belt. Those are fighting words.
Awww, Shinichi looking back at Kaito was adorable. He's curious but also concerned about his husband as he knows he's being led into traps.
MAKOTO T-T DON'T LISTEN TO HIM.
TIME FOR CUTE MAKOSONO. And Ran is a bro letting Sonoko have some alone time with Makoto, using Kaito as an excuse (she also wants to investigate).
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We love Ran.
KAITO OUR GENDER NON-CONFORMING QUEEN. I love how he flirts with the inspector to return his phone too. My queer king. (Yes he is a king and a queen).
Kaito, did you really need to drop your skirt first? Or have you always wanted to do that.
I like to believe that Kaito only noticed the letters because he's learnt a lot from his detective boyfriend.
ALSO ANOTHER THING A PERSON NOTICED THAT WASN'T ME. This time around, Kaito included a propellor on his handglider. There was another Kaishin movie where his detective boyfriend complained about having to land and Kaito telling him they had no choice as it's not like he has a propellor on his glider. Me thinks, he doth use one now due to that.
MY DEAR KAITO
This is why we don't like police. They shoot indiscriminately.
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What's with this face Shinichi. Disappointed? Or concerned? Both. He can't have his husband framed.
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Nah, definitely concerned.
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MY POOR BABY.
I adore the way Sonoko looks at Makoto.
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She adores him so much.
And Makoto adores her and just wants to do everything in his power to keep her safe T-T Him catching the knife between his fingers was so cool of him.
SONOKO.
She's going through it too. She and KID can bond over their suffering.
KAITO THE JANITOR T-T Keeping up the act even though he's been injured himself and is in pain.
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MY POOR BABY CAN'T EVEN GET PROPER TREATMENT. SHINICHI GO BANDAGE UP YOUR BOYFRIEND.
He's so calm about Shinichi seeing him as his true self too.
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Hehe, half naked.
NO ONE SPEAKS ABOUT HOW GREAT THIS MOMENT IS. KAITO GIVES EVERYTHING BACK TO SHINICHI, ASKING FOR HIS FULL SUPPORT TO SOLVE THE MURDER BECAUSE THATS HOW MUCH HE TRUSTS HIM. AND SHINICHI DOES SO. HE DOES WHAT KAITO ASKS.
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Shinichi does not need a room with two beds. So, what I'm saying is that they shared a bed. And Shinichi is the blanket hog while Kaito sleeps with barely any and snores. Actually, with how wrapped up Shinichi is and how there is so little on Kaito but the bedding is going in the direction of Shinichi, I think we can confirm this is a double bed they are sharing, as well as a blanket. Noting this down.
OOF. He just lets Rishi fall to the hard floor. Shinichi you are a cruel man but I can excuse you because you want to solve this case before your husband is hurt any more.
MAKOTO AND SONOKO ARE SO CUTE IN THIS MOVIE.
We don't get to see Sonoko and Makoto as casual as they're being so it's nice to see them interact.
TIME FOR KAITO'S COMEBACK.
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Awwww, this isn't what Sonoko wants Makoto T-T She wants you to be at your happiest and she knows that is fighting against those who are strong. She doesn't want to be a burden to you.
ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT SONOKO'S RESPONSE TO FEELING LIED TO! IT'S WHAT WE'VE WANTED WITH RAN AND MORE. SHE IS UPSET MAKOTO ISN'T BEING HONEST WITH HER AND WON'T LET HIM TRY AND LIE TO HER. QUEEN BEHAVIOUR.
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I know what you are Kaito.
RAN JUST DOESN'T CARE SHINICHI IS SCREAMING. She totally knows that Conan is Arthur (and that Shinichi is Conan) and is letting him tell of his boyfriend.
Kaito gets Shinichi down to a tee, even to how he abandons Ran T-T
TIME FOR SHINICHI AND KAITO TO BE GAY MASTERMINDS WHO SOLVE THE CASE TOGETHER. The gay part is very important to it.
Look at these babies being dramatic together as they sum up the case so far to try and solve it.
This is how playful teasing is done by the way. Neither of them think less of the other so the teasing is just that, something that neither of them mean. This can't be done between Ran and Shinichi because we know he actually views her that way.
KAITO BOUGHT SHINICHI A SNACK AND IT'S SO CUTE. HE'S NOT EVEN BOTHERED BY HIM REVEALING THE TRICK, JUST CURIOUS HOW HE KNEW IT WAS COCONUT WATER.
I love Kaito using casual magic tricks with Shinichi too. It's just so cute and so Kaito.
Shinichi: Haibara, can you figure out who this is? KID took it
Ai: WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU WITH KID?!
Shinichi: ...I'll explain later
Ai, already used to Shinichi at this point: Fine, don't be stupid.
It's kind of funny that Leon says he'll build a new city and he's not wrong because Shinichi and Kaito do blow it up for him.
Kogoro: Did I just get mugged?
LMAO Ai knows Shinichi so goddamn well. It's why they make great partners.
Kaito is having fun playing detective, isn't he.
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Shinichi: My idiot husband fell right into the trap
Kaito: As if you haven't fallen for things like this too
And Rishi fell into Shinichi's trap.
Poor Sonokoa and Makoto.
LOL Kaito be careful of your detective. You don't want him falling off your shoulders.
SHINICHI AND KAITO DOUBLE TEAM.
LMAO Shinichi shading both Rishi and Leon. He's the king at making you feel stupid XD
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Kaito: Actually the detective is closer than you think.
TIME FOR THE CLIMAX.
MAKOTO T-T He'll protect Sonoko with his life.
RAN. YES. SHE GETS TO BE INCREDIBLE. ANOTHER SCORE FOR THIS MOVIE.
And it's Shinichi who gets to be the damsel in distress who is saved by his man T-T As we love!
AND IT'S TIME FOR SHINICHI'S BEST PLAN TO DATE. HE ASKS KAITO TO HELP HIM BLOW UP A HOTEL.
I WANT TO SPEAK ABOUT HOW KAITO IS CARRING AROUND AND PROTECTING HIS LOVE WHILE MAKOTO IS DOING THE SAME. CAN I?
Kaito is one hell of a shot. And he has no ascended to the god of fighting as that was said to be the only thing to make the bracelet fall off.
Obligatory Shinichi saving Ran where it wasn't really needed but I'll allow it because we've been fed so much AND-
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She gets the last move. So it's okay.
And Kaito can't forget his purpose. He is a jewel thief after all. And it makes a good reason to get people to shoot at him.
Kaito loves to make people bungee jump. He has to make them into extreme sport lovers too.
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Oooh. What do you do two do in the bedroom. Makoto is very good at tying knots I see.
TIME FOR THIS SHIP TO MOVE. Kaito and Shinichi are so insane for this.
Makoto fighting with Sonoko on his back is also insane.
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I JUST REALISED HE WAS HOLDING HER HAND! I ADORE THEM.
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Sorry, that's just really funny.
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Shinichi and Kaito did this. I fucking love them.
And Kaito has fun having the last word. King.
Sonoko has a fringe? I just thought it was as long as her bangs.
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ADORABLE!
Shinichi got to say the line. Can't have a movie without it.
RAN IS THE MVP OF THIS MOVIE AND THIS IS WHY. SHE IS AN AMAZING ACTRESS AND PUTS SHINICHI TO SHAME.
What a warm welcome home for Kaito.
Again, it's not cute for Shinichi to insult Ran because he means it. Also she doesn't KNOW YOU FUCKING ASS.
Well. We'll ignore that last moment.
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noonaishere · 18 hours
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Online/Offline [C.S] - ninety | it’s a coniferous forest there’s so much pining
San watched y/n as she slept on the couch. Yunho had long ago gone to his room to update his friend on what happened and go to sleep, but y/n had fought sleepiness like a child waiting for Santa Claus until she finally nodded off by accident. He wondered if she was just over excited from everything that had happened or if maybe she was too worried from having to be around her stalker for most of the day to be able to sleep. But she was asleep now, features relaxed and beautifully peaceful.
“Can I ask you something?” Wooyoung asked.
San motioned for him to follow him into his room where he sat on the floor next to his bed and invited Wooyoung to join him.
“I don’t want to wake her up. What is it?”
“I’m really glad that Quack messaged you when she did. Yunho and I were running over, but you were much faster than us.”
“Yeah.”
“Did you run from the café?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s a good thing you’re so athletic.”
San exhaled a laugh and nodded.
“So was it your fast feet or your love for her that carried you?” Wooyoung said and laughed quietly.
San glared at him, unimpressed.
Wooyoung laughed a bit too loud before quieting himself again.
“Please don’t say things like that in front of her.”
“Why not?”
He stared at him again.
Wooyoung shrugged. “Just tell her you like her.”
San shook his head.
“Why not? If you like her, just tell her you do.”
“What? And take the advice you gave Minsoo?”
“Who told you about that?”
“Seonghwa hyung.”
Wooyoung narrowed his eyes at San. 
San smiled.
“Well, I guess you could try that way. She might find it funny.”
He exhaled a laugh. “Maybe.”
He folded his arms and leaned back against the bed, thinking. They sat in silence for a few moments while he processed what he was feeling. Wooyoung played with the hem of his sleeve as he waited for San to say something. 
“I thought he was really going to hurt her, Woo.”
Wooyoung looked over at him.
“All I could imagine was… him dragging her off somewhere and…”
“Kidnapping her?”
“Yeah.” San put his face in his hands and inhaled, trying to steady his nerves. 
Wooyoung inhaled and nodded. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”
When he felt more composed he pulled his hands away. “I know she said he’s already hurt her, and he has, but all I could think of as I ran towards them and he wouldn’t let go of her…”
“Was all the worst possible shit that could happen?”
San nodded.
“Yeah, I understand. But… what does that have to do with asking her out?”
He sighed. “I don’t know… I just needed to tell someone.”
“What about telling her?”
“I almost did on the way over here, but you heard her.”
“She’s surprisingly hard-headed when she puts her mind to something.”
He nodded again.
“She’s got that only child attitude… She understood how dangerous it was, though.”
San turned to him.
“I know that her brushing it off when you asked her why she didn’t tell you made it seem like she didn’t, but she really did.”
He turned away.
“San-a--”
“What would you or Yunho have done if I didn’t show up? She could have been kidnapped.”
“Try to get her away from him. I don’t know if we could have fought him like you did, but we would have stopped him from taking her anywhere. We were in a public place and Yunho is at least as tall as Byungchul is.”
San looked up at the ceiling and sighed.
“So just tell her.”
“That I like her?”
“Yeah.”
He turned to Wooyoung for a moment before looking away again. “I don’t know.”
“Why?”
“...I don’t know.”
Wooyoung watched him quietly.
“There’ll be the court case. And… I don’t know. I don’t even know if she likes me as more than a friend.”
“You can ask.”
San shook his head.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. Maybe… maybe it’s not good to pine after people for months.”
“Or years, even.”
San turned to him.
“Mountain of Namhae.”
He sighed heavily. “What if… what if I’m no better than Byungchul?”
“We both know you’re not--”
“I’ve also been following her for forever. Probably longer than him. But I’m worse, I had the opportunity to tell her and I didn’t. I’m like a stalker.”
“Okay, it’s not like you found out who she was on purpose, San. You met her in real life by accident.”
“I don’t know.”
“San. She can’t be mad at you when she’s the one who moved here, came into the café, and then applied to work there. You were there first.”
“But I shouldn’t have kept it from her.”
“Maybe.” Wooyoung sighed. “Listen, I can’t make you do anything, but I think you should tell her.”
San nodded but didn't say anything.
“San-a, it’s just…” 
Wooyoung wanted to tell San that he knew for a fact that y/n liked him, but as he opened his mouth to say it he had a sudden flash of realization: telling him would mean selling out Yeosang, and that would mean y/n couldn’t trust Yeosang with a secret. And, if Wooyoung told San what he knew, that would mean that San couldn’t trust him with a secret. And then no one would trust him ever again. He didn’t want to screw over his own friendship, definitely, and he knew Yeosang would be pissed at him if he destroyed his oldest friendship. All he could imagine was chubby-cheeked, child Yeosang, crying because he missed his best friend from before he moved… and then maybe adult Yeosang punching him in the face for the first and last time and never speaking to him again.
He sighed.
“What?” San asked.
He shook his head. “This whole situation.” He rubbed his eyes. “I really don’t think she’ll think you’re like Byungchul if you tell her you’ve been following her; it’s not like she’s an unknown streamer, her best friend is in JUPiTER, for fuck’s sake. There are tons of people who watch her streams.”
San shook his head.
“What ‘no’?”
“It’s not just that.”
“Then what else is it?”
San sighed.
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   previous | main cast | masterlist | next
a/n: Oh San and his many secrets of varying sizes. What do you think the other one is?
Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added to the tag list! 🧋 Any comments, reblogs, or asks are appreciated! I love talking with you guys and seeing what you’re saying about the chapters, it keeps me going 🥰
@rachs-words • @stayatinykatsy • @dinossaurz​​ • @conwunder​ • @tinyelfperson​ • @anythingrelatingtojinyoung​ • @jaytheatiny​ •
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dat-lil-shark · 2 days
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Transformer One Review
I would say the movie in general is pretty mid, to be honest. It’s clichéd, it’s rushed, it's everything we’ve seen before. Even my sister who had no knowledge of the franchise and whom I dragged into this guessed that Sentinel is evil right away.
But once thing I loved the movie so much is how Orion was written. And this is the most important thing there is to this movie. Even before watching the movie I knew he would be flawed and stupid, but I never expected he would be THIS flawed and THIS stupid.
He was SO STUPID there are even times he even feels morally ambiguous! Like he dragged all his friends into dangerous situations, without their consents, for no reasons other than just wanna feel good and feel cool. Even when he saved Jazz I was feeling like he didn’t save him because it’s the right thing to do and Jazz has a life too, but it’s more of a “Wow it would be so cool if I save him and come back alive!” Kind of situations. And he didn’t even apologize when others even first pointed it out and tried to convince them to feel the same way he does.
And his immaturity payed a big price. Disasters happened, so many almost and probably did got killed, and no one, not his friends, not plot armours, NO ONE defended him when things goes wrong because of him. He made grave mistakes and the world punished him for it, so he will learn. And I cannot imagine how bold were the screenwriters when they made the creative choice to make Orion this flawed. He was so stupid it was beautiful.
And not only was the film not afraid of making him flawed, it also wasn’t afraid of making him vulnerable.
For a large part of the film, I feel like Orion wasn’t even trying his best to persuade D-16 to not change, probably largely because he just can’t emotionally comprehend how someone like his best friend could possibly change so myth, until it went to the point of no return. And maybe if he was strong and wise enough to do the best he can, like giving D more attentions, trying to cheer him up and remembering the good thing in life. Best case scenario: D-16 would never go the length he would. And worst case: he would still at least try to leave his friends out of things. But no, Orion was visibly procrastinating on taking care of his friend cause he just don’t know how to, and possibly even want to, just to not face the truth. And I know he will make the 🥺 face eventually when D turned evil, but I did not expect Orion to spend almost half of the film to just staring at D with them big ol’ eyes and doing nothing but hope things are not going the way he thought they were going. Seriously though 70% of the later part of the film he looked like he was one step away from just bursting into tears.
However, these are not big surprises, the BIGGEST surprise the film gave me was at the end, when Orion finally became Optimus, and he defeated D. He. Still. Looked. Just. So. Sad.
He didn’t instantly become strong, at least emotionally.
He was still full of 🥺 and hesitations.
It was almost like, even AFTER he became Optimus, he was still naive enough to be somewhat hoping D-16 was not really doing what he knew he was doing, but finally accepted reality when he banished D and the Decepticons.
And.
I.
FUCKING.
Love this!
Essencially, the movie DID NOT make Orion just Optimus, but younger and more naive. Instead they made OPTIMUS just ORION, but knowing how life is not all sunshine and rainbow now. And the way they left the movie with Orion still VERY different from the expressionless, badass, and untouchable Optimus we know, instead still FULL OF sorrows and FULL OF Orion, not only leaves space for more movies in this new prologue-oriented franchise, with more character arcs for Orion, but they also shows how maturing doesn’t just happen overnight.
Orion learned how life is not all sunshine and rainbows, and he would not stop learning it for millions of years to come. There will be a day where Orion/Optimus would be hurt so much that he can no longer cry or smile anymore. But for today, he still can.
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do you think Eridan would listen to kpop ? (either the human or Troll variant)
if not...then which troll would be the most likely to :3c
LOL no way, he's a hipster. KPop is mainstream as hell; if anything, he'd have disdain for it (and for pop as a whole). One of the less emotionally perturbed trolls would probably enjoy that stuff, though I don't know that I'd call any of the Alternian crew the kind who'd consider it to be their favorite, since nearly all of them are at least a little alt in some way, and kpop (and idol culture as a whole) is heavily tied up in politics, propaganda, capitalism, and consumption - so the troll version of it would be that times a thousand.
I'd say Feferi, Gamzee, and Kanaya probably quite like it because they're most at ease with their society, but it's not their favorite. Equius probably sees it as being aimed at the lower castes, and therefore crass and beneath him. Everyone else would probably get the propaganda vibes and dislike it on principle, even if some of them might secretly find some songs catchy (cough Karkat cough).
If you want to get into Beforan trolls, haha, oh man. I think more of them would like it than not.
Normally, I'd say that Eridan would at least make a show of liking it, given how much he makes a show of being a Sea Dweller(TM), but his hipster tastes, like his interest in magic, don't appear to be things he can shake. Karkat even calls him a hipster, so you KNOW he's out here dissing Trollor Swift and making disdainful faces when people bring up Troll Marvel.
I have as a selection of bands for Eridan Have a Nice Life (post-rock/post-punk/shoegaze), Sprain (noise rock/experimental rock), and Tool (alternative metal/art rock/progressive rock). Generally, I find he vibes with stuff on the darker side of post/prog rock, or the more lyrical side of heavy metal - both in terms of themes (lots of darker topics, like death, murder, suicide, child abuse, etc.) and in terms of sound. It also fulfills the requirement of being "hipster" by nature. Eridan is a very troubled, angry, violent guy, and I personally like to call the linked bands "angry man music". Just a smattering of lyrics for those who don't want to listen:
I've been doing a lot of damned things without you And all the damned things I do confound you Yeah, Satan and his devils try to take my hand And the angels on my shoulders try to tell me that they understand Oh well, oh well
Imagine this: I'm the guest on some obscene talk show In a cell of moral compromise The audience is made up of everyone that I have ever met in my entire life Every sin I've ever committed is put up on display by screens hung around the stage And we watch, watch, watch, watch, watch, watch, watch The host says "I now present to you an elaborate choreography of failure!" The audience erupts with seemingly coordinated jets of jargon laughter "Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Shame on you!"
I'm broken, looking up to see the enemy And I have swallowed the poison you feed me But I survive on the poison you feed me, leaving me Guilt-fed, hatred-fed, weakness-fed It makes me feel ugly
I think even when his tastes do venture lighter, they still never really cross the threshold into pure pop. There's always going to be a hipster, indie, punk-y, shoegaze/post-rock bent to his tastes. I also list for him Dirt Poor Robins, Family Crest, Johnny Hollow...
Wisdom unearned is Intrepid and proud Till we’re dragged by the tide and nearly have drowned Entropy thrives In conditions enclosed Innovations arise When humanity chokes
Cast your heart to the floor, love Feel the sting, feel the weight Of a love, of a love not strong enough Your head's on fire Your hands and feet come off the ground Oh, sweet desire, when your mind, when your mind When your mind's not strong enough It's not that your head is gone It's just that your heart is on fire, fire It's not that the beat is off It's just that your heart is on fire, fire
Once when I was all alone I called you, and you weren't at home My heart fell like a stone, to the ground To the ground, to the ground Why, when morn had dawned on me And anger grew like ecstasy And Leda threw the swan on me and I fell to the ground To the ground, to the ground
Hilariously, this alt/hipster taste means that he runs up against stuff that's ridiculously anti-government; I personally like to believe he does actually listen to outright anti-fascist songs, but if you point it out, he's just like. No it isn't. So SWMRS, Silver Mt. Zion, Vansire.
Well, you gotta keep it up But it will never be enough No sonrisa teenage shit pop Well, you gotta keep it up But it will never be enough No sonrisa teenage shit pop Death to the motherfucking fascist insect This shit makes me so sadistic Death to the motherfucking fascist insect This shit makes me so sadistic Death to the motherfucking fascist insect This shit makes me so sadistic Death to the motherfucking fascist insect This shit makes me so sadistic
There's fresh meat in the club tonight God bless our dead marines Someone had an accident Above the burning trees While somewhere distant peacefully Our vulgar princes sleep Dead kids don't get photographed God bless our dead marines
So I convalesced in the middle west And fell for Ohio's roads I'm standing still by the windowsill Where I once watched the world explode So when it's looking dark in your narrative arc I'm here and you can talk with me A hackneyed fool under fascist rule Wasting days singing about his dreams
It's a pretentious-ass taste, but one that fits in with the vocabulary he likes to use:
CA: all of her FRAUDULENT MAGICS cannot come close to posin threat to my mastery ovver the TRUEST SCIENCES CA: an wwith my empiricists wwand i servve as the righteous hope that wwill incinerate delusion and the deluded alike CA: my holy fire is the wwhite fury bled from the wwrath-wweary eyes of fifty thousand nonfictional angels CA: and wwhen theyre finished wweepin they wwill boww before their prince GG: wow what are you talking about
I miss the days when stars were saintly They sang to me in ways innately Before we enslaved the symphony To playing anthems for selling things I used to wonder, wander farther Into awe, but those days were squandered My ghost was lost to the grownup gallows So I find my spirit in the bottle
Those modal masterworks Atonal oeuvres it seems When I ask afterwards All message lost in between The shifting aperture Depicting sun-soaked scenes I guess they resonate That's Universal Consciousness
Fate’s a funny thing It makes a victim of the will and brings a suit of broken bands A snake so full of tail That it can barely breathe to say it “doesn’t understand.” So, what am I to think? What am I to think? I’m doing it now At least I know I am At least I caught myself before I sent this out Into a stupid world that doesn’t give a damn Oh, what kind of fool do you think I am?
Like, I really can't stress enough, but Eridan is abjectly fucking miserable, angry and violent, anxious and unhappy. And his taste in music should reflect that, his feelings of impotence, his angry and anxious energy, his desperation. Have a Nice Life is probably the band I pick for him, because their discography reflects so greatly these emotions of anger, impotence, self-loathing and self-destruction.
The thing about being a hipster is that there's, the way I see it, three main reasons people wind up falling into it - the first is that they want to feel special, feel better than other people (not really Eridan's deal); the second is that they're just generally a music liker and their taste is indiscriminate enough to include indie stuff, too (and this is also not really Eridan's deal); and the last is because there is something in their soul that cries out for validation that they can't receive in the mainstream - for example, emotions, impulses, thoughts, and urges too dark for radio play (such as an obsession with genocide and murder). It's actually really important to me that Eridan IS a hipster, and specifically the type of hipster who's super pretentious and looks down on stuff that's "popular."
He has a massive fixation on being understood - complaining constantly that people don't "get it," that "nobody understands." This would extend to his taste in music. He would seek out genuine-ness, something grungy, something real, and unfortunately, stuff that's made for mass-market consumption must have the edges sanded off by nature. Given he actually gets upset when people don't "get" him, I'd wager that he doesn't treat media that he feels doesn't "get" him pretty poorly, too.
To be clear, I'm not trying to diss KPop in any way. It's not really my thing, but I get why people like it, and I'm not saying you shouldn't. Just feel like I have to toss that in there. I just really don't think Eridan would like it. And also he would probably be mean about it if you told him you liked it.
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I FINALLY DID IT!
I finished my pride fic! With an hour to go until the episode airs!
@flufftober 2023 Day 27: outdoor event
Austin Pride (AO3)
Owen and Gabriel go to pride with their sons
---
“Have you ever been to one of these? With TK?” Gabriel asked, tapping the ad in the paper open on Owen's kitchen table.
“Been to what? A camping supplies store?” Owen joked, turning the paper around to see what Gabriel meant. “Oh, that. Yeah, a few times. Back in New York. Never here though. I didn't actually know there was one.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Have the boys said anything... to you... about... going?”
“No, no I don't think so... although...” Owen trailed off, grabbing his phone and unlocking it and scrolling through his work calendar. “TK did schedule time off work that weekend. So my guess is that they're going.”
Gabriel nodded again.
“Are you... thinking of going too?” Owen asked. “Have you ever been?”
“No. When I was young... well... I don't think there was ever one where I grew up. And by the time I ended up in the big city... It's just never been on my radar.”
“Not even when Carlos or your girls were growing up?"
Gabriel snorted and took a swig of his drink. Andrea would have his head if she knew he was day drinking with Owen and not at his PT appointment.
“You know the mess we made of things with Carlos. So no, I've never been. Not with Carlos, not by myself.”
“But you're thinking of changing that?” Owen guessed.
“Well... it's definitely been on my mind more lately.” Gabriel admitted. “But I'm not sure it's my place.”
“Why not? Everyone is welcome at these things. That's kind of the whole point of them.” Owen chuckled. “The first time Gwyn and I went with TK was when he was 15 or 16. I don't know which one of us was more nervous.”
“What was it like?”
“Loud. Colourful. Lots of happy people. Everyone was in a party mood. We had fun. Even more so the second year when we actually marched. And a drag queen called me a DILF.”
“A what?” Gabriel asked, confused.
“DILF. It’s an acronym.”
“For…?”
“Dad I’d like to…” Owen raised an eyebrow and sipped his drink. “You know.”
“Dad I’d like to what?”
“You know… get freaky with...”
“What? Oh! I… should have known what that F stood for.”
Owen shrugged.
“I didn’t. I looked it up when I got home.” He laughed. “TK told me to never mention it out loud to anyone ever again.”
Gabriel nodded and tried to imagine having such memories with Carlos.
“But apart from that… what is it like? One of those parades.”
“Well in New York there were a lot of advocacy groups marching. And it was quite political. But there were also a lot of people marching because they just… wanted to. Celebrating who they are, who they love.” Owen said and laughed. “You should have seen TK’s face when this guy from a gay health clinic gave him free condoms and lube. And then turned to me and gave me some too because “sexual health is important no matter your age.” He said using air quotes. “TK was 17 I think. He refused to look at me the rest of the day. I slipped the condoms and lube in his backpack though when we got home. I didn’t know if he was actually having sex back then, but if he was, I wanted him to be safe you know.”
“Yeah…” Gabriel agreed and tried to remember if he’d ever talked to Carlos about sex, let alone gay sex, let alone safe gay sex. He knew Andrea had sat their girls down when they hit puberty, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember ever doing so with Carlos. “Would it be… weird… if I were to go to that parade?”
“As a spectator?”
“Maybe? Or participant.”
“I don’t see why it would be. We could go together!” Owen said, getting excited. “We could march with the boys! We could get matching shirts!”
“Oh… I uh I don’t know if Carlos would want me to. They’ve probably got plans with their friends.”
“We can all march together!” Owen pointed out. “Maybe that friend of Carlos’ I got talking to at the wedding will be there. What’s his name again… something with a J I think. He had some killer moves on the dancefloor.” He shook his head. “Anyway let me call the boys and then we can figure out our outfits.”
Before Gabriel had time to stop him or even make him take a breath and discuss things, Owen had pulled up TK’s contact and hit call.
“TK, what are you and Carlos doing the weekend of the 30th?” He said the second the call connected, not bothering with hello.
“The weekend of the - wait that's pride weekend. I scheduled the weekend off. It's already been approved. You're not making me change it now. We have plans.” TK replied, apparently not bothered by the lack of greeting.
“Yes, yes, I know. But what kind of plans? Are you marching in the parade?”
“I don't know... maybe. Why? Please tell me you're not planning on marching with the entire 126?”
“What? No.” Owen said immediately. “It's way too short notice." He paused to think. “But it's an excellent idea for next year. Remind me to talk to the AFD brass about it. We could build a float or use one of the ladder trucks! We could probably find some rainbow decorations or just buy some pride flags. Maybe we could get a local artist to design something for us! We could set up a competition! Maybe we could even get the winning design as a mural in the firehouse!"
Owen was getting more and more excited and started moving around the house to find a pen and paper to write his ideas down.
"Dad, dad, DAD!" TK all but yelled down the phone to get his attention. “Is that why you called? To talk about your ideas for an LGBT+ friendly firehouse?”
“No, you just gave me that idea.” he scribbled some key words down on an old receipt.
“So why did you call then? On my day off. That I'm spending with my husband who magically also has the day off. And we're enjoying that. Together. Alone.” TK said, emphasising the last two words.
Owen caught the implication but decided to ignore it.
“Oh yes, right. I wanted to know what your plans are for the pride weekend because we thought we might join you and march in the parade together.”
“We? Who is we?”
“Me and Gabriel. It'll be a multi-generational father and son thing. We were thinking of getting matching t-shirts printed. For all four of us.” Owen said, looking at Gabriel for confirmation.
“Wait, my father wants to go to pride?” Carlos asked and Owen briefly wondered if he'd been on speaker the whole time.
“Yes! It was his idea. He wants to share the experience with you. With both of you. And me I suppose. Even though I'm not gay. I mean... there was that one time in college...”
“Ok please stop talking.” TK said quickly. “I really don’t want to hear about your college hook ups.”
“It wasn’t a hook up!” Owen protested. “More like a… mutual understanding and appreciation.”
“Uhuh. Yeah, sure, Carlos and I have those all the time. This morning actually. He was very appreciative. And understanding. He’s also very good at following instructions. Very eager to please.”
“TK!” Owen heard Carlos say after some sputtering and coughing. He assumed TK had made him choke on his drink.
“What?” TK said innocently and Owen could practically hear the shit eating grin that was without a doubt on his face. “I was just saying we have a lot of these mutual appreciation moments. And how much I enjoy those.”
“Yeah, please don’t.”
“I can’t talk about how much I appreciate my husband now?” TK asked. “My big, strong, hot… so incredibly hot you wouldn’t believe…”
“TK…” Carlos warned but it came out more of a mix between a giggle and gasp.
“Guys, focus, please.” Owen interrupted them. “What colour are we thinking for the shirts? I was thinking pink, to fit the theme.”
“Wait what theme? When did we agree on a theme?” TK asked, distracted.
“The pride theme. Pink for pride.”
“Shouldn’t it be rainbow themed then?” Carlos asked, sounding somewhat more composed.
“I’m not sure I’d look good in rainbow colours.” Owen mused. “Yellow isn’t really my colour. It washes me out.”
“Dad, just wear whatever you normally wear.” TK said, sounding like he’d resigned himself to the fact he wasn’t getting out of going along with his dad’s idea. “We don’t need a theme. Carlos and I have our outfits planned out already.”
“No we don’t.” Carlos protested. “I told you, I’m not wearing that in public.”
TK sighed.
“We’re still discussing our outfits.” He corrected himself. “So just wear whatever. Nobody is going to pay attention to what you’re wearing… unless you’re in drag or wearing ass-less chaps.” He paused. “Please don’t wear those.” 
“I don’t think the cowboy look is really for me.” Owen mused. “But I do still have my motorcycle outfit…”
“If you wear that I’m not walking anywhere near you. And that’s a promise.” TK swore and Owen laughed.
“I guess my outfit is still a work in progress too. Gabriel and I will brainstorm and we’ll let you know what’s what.”
“Sure. But no leather and if anyone calls you daddy, I’m out of there.” TK warned him before ending the call.
Owen laughed and sat back down at the table with Gabriel.
“See? I told you the boys would be on board. Now, what do you think. Pink or rainbow?”
The next few weeks consisted of Owen forwarding every outfit idea he had to Gabriel as well as their sons in their family group chat.
TK shot almost everything down right away, while Gabriel was unsure and let Owen decide for them both.
“Ok, the boys said they’d meet us at the starting point of the parade. It’s not that far but we should get going soon if we want to get a good spot. You want to get behind the advocacy groups but still near enough to the front that people still pay attention.” Owen said as he let Gabriel into his house a few weeks later. “I have our shirts and signs right here.”
“Signs? What signs?”
“The signs we agreed on…” Owen said slowly as if he was talking to a child.
“I don’t remember agreeing to signs. What do we need signs for when we have the shirts?”
“We agreed it would be nice. I had them made especially. They’re laminated.” Owen held up one of the signs. “I know a guy who makes those yard signs for politicians, he made these for me.”
“Right. Well… I think… I’ll just stick to the shirt for now.” Gabriel said, warily eyeing the sign Owen was holding.
“Alright. Well… I’ll just… take both of them then. Maybe I can convince Judd to march with us too. He’s a father too and I think he and Grace mentioned taking Charlie to watch the parade because she likes colours.” Owen rambled while Gabriel looked at the two matching t-shirts laid out on the kitchen table.
“If you’re not sure, we can just go and watch. The boys won’t mind.” Owen suggested, picking up on Gabriel’s unease.
“No, I promised Carlos I’d march with him, so that’s what I’m going to do.” Gabriel said resolutely. “Andrea and the girls said they’d come watch too and I don’t want to let them all down.” He picked up one of the shirts. “Where can I change?”
When they arrived at the parade starting point, Owen seemed to feel right at home and within five minutes he’d become best friends with a few of the drag queens also getting ready to march.
“I’m here with my friend.” He gestured to Gabriel. “We’re consuegros actually. Our sons are married and we’re marching with them… but I don’t think they’re here yet.” He looked around. “We got matching t-shirts and we’re marching as a family.”
“That’s nice darling but you have to look the part if you’re going to march. That t-shirt just won’t do. Let us give you a make over.” She looked back and forth between Owen and Gabriel. “Both of you.”
Fifteen minutes later Owen had a rainbow flag painted on his cheek and both of them wore rainbow sashes, though Gabriel had convinced their style team to tie it around the rim of his hat instead of wearing it the way it was meant to.
One of the queens had called it Texas-chic and he liked the sound of that.
“Carlos! TK! Over here!” Owen yelled and waved when he spotted their sons in the crowd.
TK waved back and dragged Carlos with him over to their fathers. Owen did his best to hide his disappointment when he saw neither of them were wearing the t-shirts he’d made for them.
“Why aren’t you wearing the shirts we agreed on?”
“It’s too hot for those.”
“We’re wearing them.”
“That’s your choice.” TK said with a shrug. “And besides, I’m here with my husband, I’m wearing the ring he put on my finger, and his last name. I think people are going to get the message that I think being gay is ok.”
“I have the shirts in my backpack.” Carlos told them and shrugged at the raised eyebrow from his husband. “Your dad put a lot of time and effort into them, TK. The least we could do is wear them for half an hour.”
TK lovingly rolled his eyes at him.
“You’re such a boy scout.” He said and kissed Carlos’ cheek. “But I’m fine wearing what I’m currently wearing.”
Owen decided to drop it and just stood back and let the chaos unfold as his and Gabriel’s style team set their sights on TK and Carlos.
Before long they’d painted rainbow flags on their cheeks, put temporary tattoos on their arms, and managed to talk Carlos into taking off the tank top he was wearing underneath a mesh shirt, much to TK’s delight.
By the time the parade started moving, someone had given all four of them little rainbow flags to wave, and Owen was trying to find a way to both wave his flag and carry two signs.
The four of them started walking with the rest of the crowd, waving their flags and waving to the people watching from the sides.
There was a DJ on the back of a pickup truck playing party music, and TK convinced Carlos to dance with him when the parade had stopped for a moment.
Someone shouted at him to put a ring on it when they saw Carlos’ moves, and he just laughed, held up his hand to show off his wedding ring, and yelled back he’d already done that.
The song ended and the two of them walked back to where Owen and Gabriel were standing and watching them.
A few people had noticed the “Free dad hugs” signs they were holding and came to ask for a hug. Owen happily obliged but Gabriel seemed a little awkward and unsure what to do.
“Are you ok dad?” Carlos asked him and Gabriel nodded.
“I’m fine. It’s just… a lot to take in.”
Carlos looked around.
“Yeah… I was kind of overwhelmed the first time I went. The first time TK dragged me along.” He smiled to himself .“We’d only been together a couple of months by then. It was a lot but it was a great experience.”  
Gabriel smiled.
“I'm proud of you.” He told Carlos and squeezed his shoulder. “I know I haven't always been the best dad to you but I'm so proud of the man you are. I'm so proud to call you my son.”
Carlos swallowed thickly and nodded.
“Thanks dad. That... means a lot.”
“I should have said it sooner.” Gabriel shook his head. “Before I got this shirt made. Before I let Owen convince me all this was a good idea.” He said and laughed, gesturing at himself in his brightly coloured I love my gay son shirt and the rainbow sash around the rim of his hat.
“I don't know, I think it suits you. You blend right in.” TK said, trying to relieve the tension somewhat. “You're one of us now.”
Gabriel laughed and in a rare public display of affection pulled both him and Carlos into a hug.
“That puts me in great company.”
“I agree.” Owen said, joining their group hug. “You boys are the best thing to happen to us.”
The parade started moving again but as they marched, more people started to approach both Owen and Gabriel for dad hugs.
Owen thrived in the attention and somehow managed to bring out a whole new version of Gabriel, who seemed to enjoy being able to make people happy with a small gesture.
“Are you seeing this?” Carlos asked TK. They were walking a few steps behind their dads, watching it all unfold.
“Yeah. Looks like my dad finally had a good influence on someone.”
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schrijverr · 3 days
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I Didn’t Mean to Say I Do, but I Do. I Do. 4
Chapter 4 out of 50
Secret marriage of convenience buddie slow burn AU, where Buck and Eddie have been married for years so Buck could adopt Chris and no one at the 118 knows.
In this chapter, Evan offers his support to Eddie after Shannon has left and the three of them slot into a life together with ease. There are some ups and downs, but they’re managing… until the hospital bills come in.
On AO3.
Ships: Buddie (slowburn)
Warnings: ableism, emotionally abusive parents, child abandonment, homophobia
~~~
Chapter 4: Three Lives Becoming Intertwined
Evan watches Eddie gather himself for a moment. It’s a little weird what he’s doing, getting caught up in this divorce even more, but he can’t help himself. Evan has always liked helping people, listening to people at the bar had been nice, feeling like he could lighten their load. Same as why he’s working on the Johnson farm now, their usual farm hand had gone off to college and there wasn’t anyone they could ask. So now, a year later, here he still is.
And it is the same thing with the Diaz family. He thought Shannon was pretty from the second he saw her and when she blurted out having nothing more than an egg run as a social life, he felt for her, wanted to make her feel better. Then she talked about her divorce and on instinct he turned into a shoulder to lean on.
Now, Eddie shows up looking all out of sorts and panicked, Shannon having left him and Chris – and him, but he’s trying not to think about it – and Evan can’t help but want to help. Eddie doesn’t seem like a bad guy and he is obviously trying. It can’t be easy, being a dad that young and then suddenly also having to do it alone.
So, here he is, hearing Eddie’s side of the divorce.
Eddie tells him about getting papers served to him while he was in Afghanistan, nestled between the cookies his mom baked him and a few drawings from Chris. How he wanted to try and work it out, but Shannon refused, insisting they wouldn’t work and implying it was his fault. He is vague about why it is his fault, but Evan doesn’t push.
Then he continues about coming home and being subjected to his mom’s judgment about Chris. “I would also be crazy if that was directed at me for years. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to handle it longer, but I’m home now. She never has to speak to my mom again if she wants.”
He sighs and runs his hand through his hair again. He’s been doing that the whole time and it’s sticking up in all kind of ways. Evan thinks it looks kind of cute, but he doesn’t comment, just makes a noise to indicate he’s still listening, encouraging Eddie to go on.
“Like we were working towards a future where we’d have our own lives, but still be there together for Chris. Figuring the house and the finances, you know, straightening out the mess that was our divorce. Then she’s suddenly gone.”
“Did she say why she left?” Evan asks, an inkling of curiosity for himself, but he’s mostly invested in Eddie. It’s easier to focus on him than on himself.
Eddie looks away and murmurs: “Her mom’s sick. Cancer.” He sucks in a deep breath, before groaning: “Which probably makes me a horrible person, but I don’t get why she didn’t talk to me, you know. We could’ve worked something out, even if it was just Chris having her on holidays and birthdays, or a fucking goodbye. But no. She’s just gone.”
“She didn’t mention it at all?” Evan frowns. Now that he thinks about it, he can’t recall her talking about it either. Though a small part soothes the ache about her leaving without saying anything at the news that she’s taking care of her sick mother, she probably didn’t wanna drag him into that, because he would have. Quietly, he forgives her for leaving him. Not Chris, though.
“No,” Eddie sighs. “I know she’d been calling with her mom more, but I didn’t ask, because I wanted to give her space and her own life. It’s already bad enough that I’m living on my own couch. Though… I guess I can take the bedroom now.”
A hand goes through his hair again and he looks completely overwhelmed when he says: “Fuck, how am I going to explain to Chris why mommy isn’t there to tuck him in? And I have to go work and then I’ll have to explain to my mom why she’s babysitting and she’ll have everything to say about it and I’ll- I- I can’t-”
“Hey, Eddie, breathe, breathe,” Evan tries his best to calm the spiraling man.
He doesn’t touch him again, but his voice is strangely soothing and Eddie manages to get his heart rate under control. He doesn’t know why it’s so easy to open up to Evan, but it is. He is letting himself spiral, show anything other than being in perfect control. He hasn’t done that with anyone since Shannon told him she was pregnant.
“I’m okay,” he manages after a few seconds. “I’m sorry. I’m dumping everything all on you. I don’t even know why you’re letting me do that.”
“Because you need someone to listen,” Evan shrugs as if that truly is his reason, as if someone needing someone is truly enough for him to drop everything. Then he grins at Eddie – making his insides squirm for reasons he doesn’t want to get into – and says: “Plus, I hate to tell you, but I have been upgraded to Chris’s best friend recently. So, it’s my duty to make sure he’s okay.” His face drops a little. “I really hope he’s going to be okay.”
Eddie follows his gaze to where Chris has sat himself down on the floor, talking to the chickens as they mill around him. He is giggling to himself looking so happy and carefree. Eddie wishes that will never leave and something constricts in his chest. “Me too.”
They both fall quiet for a moment, watching Chris play. It’s nice, sharing his son’s delight with someone for a bit without judgment or a loaded history hanging over them.
“I don’t wanna lose him, you know.” The soft confession comes before Eddie can think about it, too honest for his taste the second it leaves his lips.
“You’re not going to lose him,” Evan says and Eddie can hear that Evan believes it, so much that he almost dares to believe it himself too.
However, he doesn’t dare. He knows he’s too much of a screw up for this to work out. Hell, it took only a few months of being back, before he drove away Chris’s other parent, that doesn’t exactly bode well for the future. So, he morosely says: “You can’t know that.”
“Come on, man. You can’t give up on him,” Evan says, trying to go for a tease, but it comes out a lot more genuine. He wants this to work out. He wants Chris to have a parent who cares for him. He has gotten strangely attached to the kid and it’s healing something inside him to see him have people that care. He needs Eddie to keep fighting.
“I’m not giving up on him,” Eddie says heatedly, which unknots something in Evan’s chest. “I love that kid, of course I’m not giving up. Never.” Then he turns insecure again and he can’t look in Evan’s direction as he adds: “I just- I know I can’t do it alone, I also don’t know how long I can do it with my mom, before she wins or I snap.”
His heart breaks for Eddie, who desperately wants to do right by Chris, but for whom life has made it incredibly difficult to do so. “You’re not alone.”
“What?”
“Uh, you’re- you’re not alone. I’m in your corner,” Evan says sheepishly, only realizing after how weird it is to say that. It’s not as if he’s Chris’s stepparent, he and Shannon never even properly dated, just fucked a few times. He’s closer to a babysitter, yet here he is.
“Why?” It’s comes out ruder than Eddie meant to, but he just doesn’t understand. Shannon left and she was Chris’s mother, why is this guy still here, still wanting to help. He’s not going to get anything out of it like he did from Shannon.
Evan shrinks into himself, it’s small but it’s there, before he covers it with bravado as he jokes: “Is it weird if I say the kid grew on me?”
“A little,” Eddie tells him honestly, because he never knows when to stop himself.
Luckily, Evan takes it in stride. He chuckles a little and says: “Yeah, thought so.” Then he becomes more serious and says: “Look, I know Shannon had it hard, but her leaving is going to hurt him. A lot. Chris is going to need someone to fight for him. Not to get personal, but my parents kind of didn’t care. I’d hate to see that for someone else, especially when you do care.”
“And that’s enough to want to stay here and back me up?” Eddie asks, not really believing that someone like that can be real. “Shouldn’t you be out there, seeing the world or something?”
It’s unfortunately close to what Shannon said to him a few months ago and Evan realizes with a start what he didn’t realize then; he doesn’t want to do that.
He traveled for a few years already before coming to El Paso and no matter how many crazy experiences he’s had, none of them have filled the gaping hole in his chest like meeting Chris has. He likes getting to see the kid grow up, likes knowing he’s had a hand in it. Likes knowing that he can help without screwing everything up.
“Nah, I’ve seen enough of the world. Besides, Mrs. Johnson would kill me if I left her high and dry like that,” he tells Eddie easily, squirming slightly when he sees those brown eyes are awe filled as they look at him.
“How are you a real person, man?” Eddie asks him. It isn’t a question, it’s a complement.
Evan can’t take complements like that, so he puts on his most shit eating grin as he says: “I don’t think I have to give you the birds and the bees talk, dude, you put that shit in practice already.”
“Oh fuck off,” Eddie finds himself exclaiming with a matching grin. For the first time since he was nineteen does he actually feel his age, his youth. Shannon leaving is one of the worst things that has happened to him to date, but today isn’t a total disaster.
In the end, Eddie spends the rest of his day with Chris, spoiling him as much as he can to make up for the heartbreak he’s going to bring him. He can’t bring himself to tell Chris just yet though, needs a little longer to process himself. So, he takes up Evan’s offer for help and lets the other tuck Chris in bed and watch him for the night.
It’s weird, to be in the Diaz house. Whenever he and Shannon hooked up it was in the little sideroom the Johnsons provided for him and when he watched Chris, it was at the farm. too But now he is in her home and she no longer lives there.
There are traces of her here and there. It’s clear she decorated, but moved out. There is no other personality anywhere except Chris’s.
The next morning, Eddie comes in to find Evan sleeping on the couch that he’s been using for a bed these past few months. Watching him sleep like this makes him realize how young he is. He must be around his age. He wonders how he ended up here. He says he saw a lot of the world, but this is one hell of a place to strand.
When he thinks about it, he doesn’t know much about him, just that he ended up here somehow and works for the Johnsons and has shitty parents. Shitty enough that he’s willing to stay here and help Eddie to prevent Chris from having a childhood close to his own.
In a way, Eddie relates to that, he never wants Chris to feel like he has to be the man of the house, he wants to do better. Be there for him.
He thought Shannon wanted that too, but apparently not.
Eddie still isn’t sure how he’s going to explain that to Chris and he tries not to think about it, instead quietly sneaking to the kitchen as to not wake Evan. He starts up coffee and makes two mugs, putting one on the coffee table and sipping the other.
Once the mug is empty, he goes to get Chris. The two of them do Chris’s PT exercises, before letting him go to the kitchen for breakfast. They can get dressed and brush their teeth after they’ve eaten and seen Evan out the door.
Evan gets woke up by an excited four year old crashing into him. Chris had been thrilled about Evan watching him for the night, not questioning the impromptu sleepover or the lack of mommy for the night. He seems equally thrilled that he’s there in the morning.
“Hey, little man,” Evan greets sleepily. “Did you get out of bed yourself?”
“No, daddy did. We did the morning movies,” Chris informs him excitedly.
That confuses Evan, but before he can ask, Eddie’s voice answers: “We did his PT exercises. We call them the morning movements, but the we’re working on the full word.”
“Ah,” Evan nods, still not fully awake, because he stares at Eddie for a second. He’s still dressed in his night guard uniform, looking a little disheveled and rumpled.
Eddie must interpret his look some acceptable way, because he snorts: “There’s coffee right there. Hope you’re not sick of eggs yet, because it’s the only thing I can make.”
Indeed there is a steaming mug waiting for him and it is one of the nicest things someone has done for him in years. He has to swallow a lump in his throat, praying his morning voice covers it as he states: “You’re making me breakfast?”
“Yeah, it’s the least I can do,” Eddie smiles, looking a little bashful and sheepish.
“You don’t have to, but thanks,” Evan smiles back, probably looking more fond than he intends. It is crazy how fast they’ve become friends considering their history. “Not sick of eggs yet.”
“Thank god for that,” Eddie grins, then he disappears to make breakfast, while Chris tries to tell him about this dream he had. It’s a little confusing, but Evan tries his hardest to pay attention.
Breakfast should be an awkward affair, but Chris’s presence makes it easier to talk, so it ends up being pretty nice.
Though, Evan does have to hurry to make it back to the Johnson farm on time to get started for the day, trying not to feel Mrs. Johnson’s judgy eyes. He’s probably going to be grilled during lunch so she can take the gossip back to Church come Sunday. Evan really hopes for Eddie’s sake that he’ll manage not to crack.
Meanwhile Eddie and Chris take a shower and a bath respectively, before brushing their teeth together. Chris is too young to have the motor skills to do it himself yet, but Eddie doesn’t mind. He loves getting to spend mornings with his son, never wants to give any of it up. His heart constricts at the reminder that Shannon was willing to give this all up.
When they’re both dressed, he doesn’t put Chris on the floor to play to his heart content while he naps on the couch, instead he puts Chris down on the couch and takes a seat on the coffee table so they can have a talk. “Hey, mijo,” he starts. “I wanted to have a little talk with you.”
“Okay, daddy,” Chris replies, so open and trusting, it makes Eddie want to vomit.
“You may have noticed, but mommy wasn’t here last night,” Eddie says, hating every word. “She is not going to be here tonight either. Mommy is gone. She left and she is not going to be here for a while.” He can’t bring himself to say forever, can’t crush any hope Chris might have like that, even if the custody papers that are burning in his bedroom drawer tell a different story.
“Mommy is gone?” Chris repeats in a small voice, lip starting to wobble.
“Yeah, mijo. She had to go,” Eddie confirms, heart ripping in two as he reaches out to Chris to pull him in his lip.
“But she didn’t say bye bye,” Chris tells him, as if that is going to change anything. To him it probably does. When you go, you say bye bye, so Shannon can’t be gone, because she didn’t say bye bye. Eddie sadly knows it doesn’t work like that.
“She had to hurry,” Eddie lies, because what else is he going to tell him? That mommy didn’t want to be his mommy anymore and dropped him with her fuck buddy and left without saying goodbye, because she didn’t want to risk getting stopped? No, thanks.
“When you went, you said bye bye. You said bye bye and you came back. When is mommy coming back? I want mommy,” Chris demands, voice becoming less and less comprehensible as he breaks down in tears.
Eddie hugs him as close to his chest as he can, stroking his back as he lets Chris sob. He wonders if Shannon had to do the same when he left, then remembers Chris was too young to remember, he just remembers the bye byes from their calls.
Chris sobs for an hour and nothing Eddie says makes it better. How can it? The whole thing reminds him of the brief period he was home before he re-enlisted, how Chris had cried and cried and he felt so out of his depth. That doesn’t even begin to compare to how he feels now.
In the end, Chris cries himself to exhaustion and Eddie has to use the time to sleep too. He lies down on the couch, Chris on his chest. He’s so big already that his feet rest on his thighs, tears burn at the realization how much he missed, how much Shannon is going to miss.
The sleep he has is fitful and barely there, both he and Chris are cranky and miserable for the rest of the day. They cuddle up on the couch and watch cartoons as Eddie ignores the voice in his head that sounds a lot like his mom telling him it’s bad for Chris. He needs this. They both do.
Dinner is a silent affair, just the two of them poking at the sad excuse for a dinner. Shannon usually cooks, because Eddie is hopeless. Another hole she left, another place he’s failing. He hates that he’s going to have to ask his mom for help at some point.
Evan comes around after dinner and gives Eddie a look when Chris isn’t as excited as yesterday to see him. He can see his own heartbreak and understanding reflected in Evan’s eyes when Chris asks: “Are you going to leave too?”
“No, buddy, I’m here to stay,” Evan tells him with such conviction that both Chris and Eddie believe him. Eddie nearly cries, because this stranger has shown so much compassion and kindness for his son and he can’t ever repay him or verbalize how much he is already doing, even two days into knowing each other.
After that they fall into a routine quite quickly. Surprisingly easily too. Evan has a planner side, getting out a notebook and some paper and figuring out a schedule that works.
Eddie spends the days with Chris, waking him up and doing the morning routine, usually eating breakfast with the three of them, before Evan has to leave for work. Eddie naps as Chris plays, until dinner, which Evan has started to eat with them after Chris asked him to stay one day and Eddie didn’t say no. After dinner Eddie leaves for work and Evan puts Chris to bed, before spending the night.
At first Evan sleeps on the couch, but Eddie knows from personal experience that it is not comfortable, so he tells him to take the bed. Technically they’re sharing, but they never sleep at the same time, so it’s not that big a deal.
They run so smoothly that it takes a week and a half before his mom finds out Shannon left. And that is only because Mrs. Johnson mentions she hasn’t been around while at Church and then Chris cries when mom asks when they go over for Sunday brunch (which is still required even if Eddie doesn’t go to Church itself anymore).
The lecture he gets is one for the books and Eddie actually storms out in anger, not going to Sunday brunch for two weeks, until his mom comes to his house to drag him there. Eddie thanks his lucky stars Evan is out at work when she does, since he doesn’t think they’d survive them meeting just quite yet.
His mom does eventually learn that it is Evan on who he is relying and she has a few choice of words for that too, which sting more than Eddie expected.
Even though they mostly function on opposite schedules, they have become quite good friends in the quiet moments they have together and the moments they share with Chris. It’s nice to have someone to share being a parent with, someone he can turn to when Chris does something adorable, someone that has his back when it’s difficult.
He defends Evan, screaming at his mom how Evan has done more for him and Chris than she has and that he’s not trying to take Chris from him, but is actually helping.
“You’re as bad as Shannon was, letting any stranger without a clue into Chris’s life. How is that going to keep him healthy? Neither of you know how to take care of a special child like Chris. You are going to get him hurt and it’s only a matter of time, before Evan leaves too,” she hisses. “Why would he want to spend his life here with you, huh? Do you even know what his motives are? Or are you too blind, still following Shannon’s lead?”
“Evan isn’t going to leave,” Eddie tells her, but he can’t tell her why, he just know that when Evan promised Chris he is here to stay, Eddie believed him.
“We’ll see about that,” mom huffs.
“I guess we will,” Eddie shoots back, before slamming the door closed.
When Evan comes back with Chris from doing groceries later, they find Eddie sitting at the table staring into his coffee. He smiles when Chris comes in and engages enough that Chris doesn’t notice anything is off when he leaves to go play, but Evan does.
“Are you okay?” he asks, taking a seat across from Eddie.
“Yeah. Mom came by, heard you were helping. She didn’t like that,” Eddie sighs. “And I can’t even blame her entirely. I don’t know why you’re doing this, Evan. Chris is my kid, I’m gonna fight for him, I got myself in this mess. You don’t have to give away your youth to take care of him. Why are you still here?”
“I- I can go if you want me to,” Evan says, sounding insecure.
“Please don’t.” The words are out before Eddie can stop them, but he doesn’t regret them when Evan relaxes again and smiles. Eddie gives him a crooked smile and says: “It would be a bad look if you left after I yelled at my mom that you wouldn’t.”
“Yeah, that would be a bad look,” Evan grins back.
Both are quiet for a second, then Evan breaks it again: “And you didn’t get yourself into a mess or giving away your youth. Or mine. Chris is a good kid. The best. I care for him. It would break my heart to leave him.”
“It would break his too,” Eddie says, not adding that it would break his own as well. Evan is his only friend, he can’t imagine what it would do if he left too. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too.”
And that is that. Evan is staying. Something that becomes more permanent when Helena tells Mrs. Johnson about what her ranch hand has been doing and she decides to give it a whole new spin, before unceremoniously kicking Evan out and firing him.
Eddie doesn’t even question it, before offering Evan a place in his own home until he figures it out. He slots in at home as easily as he as he has in every other aspect of his life. Their life.
He gets a job in construction instead and Chris gets to an age where he goes to kindergarten. Their routine grows and changes with them.
Morning routine is still Eddie’s responsibility and they eat breakfast as a family, before Evan leaves for work. Eddie drops Chris off at school, then sleeps. He does pick up and spends the afternoon with Chris, before Evan comes home.
Evan can actually semi-cook. He’s not great, but he’s not as horrid as Eddie. They have four meals they eat in rotation. It works for them.
They eat together, then Eddie has to leave for his night shift and Evan does nighttime routine. He is quite smug about it when Chris informs Eddie that Evan is better at doing the voices when reading stories.
On the days Evan doesn’t have to work, they all sleep in, having a lazy breakfast. They go on drives or make outing to the ice cream parlor. When they can afford it they go to the zoo or to a museum. Both know they get some looks, but they’ve learned to ignore those. They’re friends, maybe unnaturally close, but that’s for Chris’s sake.
When Eddie doesn’t have to work, they do the reading together, both voicing the different characters – hence the comparison – before dropping on the couch with a beer. Usually they stay up later than they should, Eddie’s opposite schedule ingrained and Evan who is easily convinced that another hour isn’t so bad. Those are the nights they bond.
For all they do together, they have spend that much time together where they can talk about personal things. Not for child ears things.
But during those nights Evan gets the full rundown of the Diaz family with all its members, Eddie’s childhood and how he wants to do different, better. He also gets more about meeting Shannon, their brief love turned into a marriage that fell apart almost quicker than their love had come together.
Meanwhile, Evan opens up slightly about his own childhood, the one he ran from, the sister that left him and let him go in turn. He hasn’t gotten a letter back in years, tries not to let it get to him. He hasn’t exactly been diligent in writing them either, too caught up in parenting, too unsure what to say, where to begin.
When Chris has to get two surgeries, they sit with each other in the hospital. Eddie wasn’t there for the first one, he imagines Shannon sitting there by herself – or worse with mom – and doesn’t blame her for breaking under the pressure.
He does blame her for not being there when Chris asks if mommy is going to come now that he’s in the hospital, like she had last time. The way Chris breaks all over again when Eddie has to answer no, much like he had during that first birthday and Christmas.
It doesn’t get better after those two hospital stays either. The bills come in the mail and Eddie finds himself at the kitchen table instead of the couch on with Evan one of those precious days he doesn’t have to work. He runs a hand through his hair as he stares at the number. He chokes out: “We’re not going to be able to pay these, even if we both get a second job.”
“What are we going to do?” Evan asks, looking equally as pale as he meets Eddie’s eyes, the calculator hanging uselessly in his hands.
Resigned determination comes over him and he feels detached from himself as the simple answer comes to him: “I’m gonna have to re-enlist.”
~~
A/N:
Nothing said about Shannon this chapter is meant as hate to her or her choices and I hope it doesn’t come across like that. It’s just Eddie’s POV and he’s angry at her, understandably so. However, I do think Shannon has valid reasons for leaving too, even if she could have gone about it a little better. (I actually have a whole Shannon backstory for this verse, but idk if I’ll write it down)
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triglycercule · 30 days
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idea. since askdusttale answered an ask about where dust got his determination from (because dust has SOME determination just so he can remember the timelines and keep going against the human) and said it was totally up to personal interpretation on how he got his determination. so so so like what if what if dusttale's player did something similar to something new's player and changed dust's code to give him determination??? so dust and killer COULD BOTH had their codes tampered with??? the parallels would be INSANE. they both started off as sans and got their codes tampered with by the player but dust and killer went on two opposite paths. dust out of his own voalition decided to go against the human but killer had to team up with the human no choice at all. the opposite parallels go CRAZY oh god im tweaking
killer doesn't know exactly (since i forgot whether or not he can see codes or something like that. i swear there was an image of him describing fell and swap's code and then his own) but he can SENSE that something's off. something's different about dust that he doesn't quite know about. maybe it gets him to ask a bunch of questions that dust is definitely not open to answering because jesus man mind your own damn business but the question that really sets killer off is the way dust answers when he asks "so if you have determination then how did you get it?" and dust just shrugs his shoulders and said that one day he suddenly remembered the resets and then that's when he got it (and then goes back to mumbling to phantom paps or wtvr) and killer's just like. zomg. a sudden change in behavior or mentality that seemingly has no apparent reason related to the human???? like like like when he suddenly had to agree with the player despite literally never wanting to????? killer is over thinking the implications behind this
meanwhile dust is just annoyed now because killer keeps on following him. he keeps asking him strange questions. wtf why is the guy asking to see his SOUL that's incredibly personal???? he just wants to be left alone man he has no idea what's going on
#this is what happens when i go on my weekly ask dusttale scroll through i come up with ideas like this#one day killer asks dust if he knows about the players and creators#dust says no. and the moment killer starts explaining it to him he backs off#because dust is actually fucking going crazy at what he just barely said#there are people above us that control our stories??? our LIVES???#so he wasn't fighting against some random human but a literal god who wanted to play with him out of curiosity???#dust is never going to forget that conversation. killer knows even that one sentence changed him#dust is really paranoid now when he sees a human. immediately kills them compared to before#yk what let's make this nightmare's gang related! nm notices dust's paranoia toward humans#mans is getting upset because he's killing precious negativity. so he asks killer#killer wtf happened to dust i told you to watch over him and horror (sadly i cant drag him into this hc)#and killer's like i might've told him about creators and players and now he's probably having a crisis over his free will and stuff#yeahhhh that dust gets replaced asap. it's better to leave aus unaware of creators in the DUST (haha)#and then promptly replaces him. killer keeps on eyeing the new dust like#is it a dusttale thing? is it all dusts? or was that the only one? maybe this one KNOWS?#but in the end he leaves him alone bc nm told him too. he's still overthinking those implications though#GOD THIS IS SUCH A COOL FUCKING IDEA#askdusttale i love having freedom to come up with ideas like this BLESS 🙏🙏🙏#listen if there were a real canon reason dust gets determination then i wouldn't have this idea#but dusttale's canon is so loose and just structural its GREAT!!!! i love it#and the fact that the dusttale fics dont even change much to the lore??? just explains dusts personality better#HOW MANY MORE PARALLELS CAN THE MTT HAVE BEFORE THEY EXPLODE I SWEAR#killer sans#dust sans#nightmare sans#murder time trio#bad sanses#utmv#sans au#tricule rant
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shannonsketches · 3 months
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He said "Fuck this shit, I'm out" I'm crying. Toriyama's Vegeta was so top shelf 🤌
(From Neko Majin Z Chapter 5!)
#dbtag#Idk why Toei didn't lean into Vegeta being a version of Piccolo you could put in funnier situations like Toriyama wrote#He's reserved and professional and proud but JUST immature enough to bite down on a gag that Piccolo would readily swerve#But they take a lot of Goku's chaotic comedy away too in favor of Hero(tm) writing and that is why I keep pulling my hair out aklsjdlas#Toriyama was sO funny and it bums me out so much that the anime derailed how lighthearted and straight up silly the humor is#and replaced it with Misogyny Is Funny and humiliation kinks asjklfhadjk and it's not just my complaints about Vegeta and Bulma!!#“Goku is running away from his very reasonable wife because he is a goofy little guy who doesn't want to do his chores” becomes#“Chichi is Cruel to Goku who is Trying to be a good husband because she doesn't relate to his passions and vilifies him for having them"#which is not their dynamic at all but dudes in the writing room are like “being married is fucking awful amirite fellas hahaha”#but Toriyama was like “Being married is not for everybody but it can be really great if you and your partner are on the same page”#Chichi's reasonable! And Goku isn't romantically wired but Goku can enthusiastically consent to sex and still not enjoy kissing#those things can be and are true for a lot of people! And it makes even more sense if you hc Goku to be aspec (and audhd coded) like I do#Kissing can feel gross and can be a sensory overload for many folks. Doesn't mean they're stupid or innocent.#(although Goku CAN still ride nimbus so idk what Pure entails in this universe askljad)#Like I am the FIRST person to joke and drag Goku about his marriage as an aspec myself but like legit Goten is a Last Night On Earth baby#He knows what sex is. But also between how socially removed Goku is and how Shy and Conservative Chichi it's not out of line#to assume the actual words sex and kiss have never been spoken in that house skljdlajdf I FULLY believe Chichi uses code words#Chichi thinks her son being blonde makes him a delinquent and still uses honorifics with Goku like it is fully reasonable to assume#that the joke of Goku's naivetè centers around the fact that his wife is too embarrassed to talk about Certain Matters in a normal way#While Bulma and Vegeta are slutty hedonistic cityfolk who need jesus (according to chichi probably...and me but I support them)#anyway. point is. Toriyama was funny as hell and Nekomajin is absolutely ridiculous and goofy and has a fully amoral main character#which just reminded me that toei is allergic to letting goku be a gremlin and so vegeta's not allowed to be a gremlin wrangler#even though that's been his job since the day he met raditz alksdjaskljd
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Hey so Snap this is going to be so fucking weird, but honestly don’t care. So I was watching a clip of Drag Race Philippines and it was the make over episode and I think they were making over family members and this father was all about getting into drag. So, I just wanted to tell you never forget how much of a lovely loving kind and caring father you have, who loves you and protects you and makes you feel heard. That’s all.
i'd have to die before i forget how great my dad is thank you for the opportunity to brag about him again anon
#snap chats#no smarmy one-sentence response i fear i never play about my dad's character and its been. A Month so i gotta be earnest#Comically And Topically tho i still wonder wtf my dad meant when he said 'i always thought of being a girl' when i opened up to him#part of me thinks he was just joking and thats probably it but also ....... //audible confusion + vine boom + eyebrow quirking//#its so funny you brought up my dad though i was thinking of visiting him this weekend#last week my Bitch Ass Mom wanted to watch a movie with me and since speak no evil was coming out i proposed we see that#since starting therapy shes been 'trying' to be closer with us but she still doesnt like me on a fundamental level so get bent ig#but she hates horror movies and made a whole show of not wanting to go and how american movies are so brutal and blah blah#this was right after she took me ice skating with her .. cause shes obsessed with ice skating now ... like maam please#i like skating so thank you but ... idk ... she never wants to do things i wanna do#then again we're pretty different i think so. LOL sorry i like horror movies and nothing you like apparently#im glad she didnt come cause i just went with my bro and since the theater was Virtually Empty we just cracked jokes the whole time vjlaekv#plus i just know my mom wouldve been annoying and i wanted to enjoy the movie !!!! which i did ty !!!!!!!#but yk who LOVES horror movies and who i used to watch horror movies with all the time growin up !!!!!!!!!!#i havent seen a movie with my dad in forever.... the last one we saw was so long ago but it was some weird owen wilson movie i think#wait now that ive dragged my mom into this she started therapy Did I Share That. Im Reminding You Anyway#but the most vile thing i ever heard her say was that she admitted to me she never loved my dad 'emotionally'#like wow ..... a thousand life times in hell for you i think i cant even begin to describe the rage chat i could write a novel#but i only have 30 tags so i wont. i should call my dad tho.. this is inspiring me to call my dad thank you anon#if youre still reading Double Thank You. i havent complained about my mom in a while and this was just funny timing overall vjRLKJAEVK#ok im gonna go talk with my dad now. my college friend's coming oevr in like three hours and we're gonna watch glass#cause that came up in convo yesterday Long Story so that should be funny vjlekjlakj
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youremyonlyhope · 3 months
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I'm not a "new musical theatre style music" person. Never have been.
Even when I was doing voice lessons, I'd steer towards the golden age or jazzy musical theatre songs. My voice teacher would have to drag me kicking and screaming towards adding anything new musical theatre to my repertoire. For a while, the most modern song in my book was I Know The Truth from Aida, and I wouldn't count that as new musical theatre style since I mean more the Pasek&Paul or Joe Iconis type.
And now I have an audition coming up for a small production of a show in that style and I'm supposed to sing a song in a similar style. And I'm looking at all my sheet music like... let me do some Cole Porter... or Gershwin... at least Sondheim please...
#look i do have SOME newer musicals in my book. but like i said. kicking and screaming.#i'm probably gonna end up doing 'I Think That He Likes Me' which is not IN a musical it's just new musical theatre style#as part of a songbook for some writing duo that i can't remember the name of and it's 2:45am so i can't care enough to look it up.#and it's the only one in my sheet music folder that i'm like 'ok. this is TRULY the right style' and i know it's good in my voice#and it's a cute song and i do like it and it definitely fits the overall vibe of the show#and though i haven't sung it in like 4 years i still remember 90% of the words and have time to study it before the audition#but while trying to find that song deep deep in my folder i pass by other songs i just love so much more#and i'm like ahhhhhhhh why#and i'm not even like 'god i hope i get it' (see A Chorus Line. that's more my type) i truly don't care if i'm cast or not#and yes i can technically audition with any song i could ever want it's just suggested to do the same style#but i know the entire creative panel who i'll be auditioning for and the last 2 times i auditioned for them i sang the same song#only because it's a GOOD song that fit both shows i was auditioning for (Can't Stop Talking About Him by Frank Loesser)#(perfect audition song since it's short at like 28 bars and you can pick the tempo and do a lot of character stuff)#(but see this is what i mean. like 1/3 of my entire sheet music folder is golden age musicals. then half is 60s-90s.)#(and then the last chunk are the few new-ish musical theatre and some pop music.)#(if i took performing more seriously i'd have a wider range but this is truly just for fun and just for me. so i do what i like.)#i don't want to go in for a 3rd audition with the same creative team and doing the same song. especially since it doesn't fit this time.#so once again. dragged kicking and screaming. over to new musical theatre territory. unwillingly.#if i get cast we'll have to see if the show itself even grows on me since honestly i think there's maybe 2 songs i like in it.#it's definitely not the worst new musical theatre style show but it's also not one that drew me in.#ok wait while looking through lists of 'new musical theatre' shows to find one i actually like (i think just Legally Blonde sorry guys)#(every other new musical in the last 20 years that i like did something interesting with the music like Come From Away)#i ended up finding out that apparently 13 was adapted into a netflix movie? when did that even happen?#i mean i don't care for that show either but i thought i was at least up to date on movie adaptations.
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