#idk man. feeling hopeless again

[finalhaunts]

Siigghh

[maddy-ferguson]

women will literally accuse women and esp lesbian circles of "not unpacking ""man-hating""" alleged ""misandry" sweetie xo" getting offended ppl aren't appropriately uplifting how "men are amazing and awesome and attractive and i won't be shamed for thinking so" as if appreciating men is a real counter opinion than blame whatever gave women of every sexuality instance to be jaded weary cautious and tired and who'll complain every now and then and continue on with her life until she dies putting up with patriarchy. just welcome to the "woke" internet where misogyny's over and "man-hate" "shamed for not hating men" is worth springing to defences for

yeah i've only seen people talk like men's rights activists and think they're being unbelievably progressive on tumblr it's kind of fascinating. like i can see how seeing people hate on men could mess with people and stuff but you can't demand men appreciation posts that's literally the whole world outside of idk your tumblr dash (or even on your tumblr dash because fandom misogyny from people who think they're not misogynistic at all is really something). men get praised for "babysitting" their own kids like be serious? it's very let men be masculine

i don't think being like men are soooo gross and we hate them is actually constructive and it can definitely veer into transphobia (you'll always be a man/"a male" and thus a danger to women/why would you ever want to become a man they're the enemy and the bane of society etc) and homophobia relatively quickly?

but the way people ON TUMBLR ""combat that"" is often so off to me like if the most basic feminist principles offend you then i'm not really sure where to go from here. i remember seeing a post that was like "men aren't your enemy. they're your friend/brother/father/colleague/neighbor" with a lot of notes and like i don't know how to tell you this but that's literally who's most likely to harm a woman, the men she knows?😭 and obviously not every system of oppression is exactly the same but would you say the same thing to someone criticizing white people like...just very weird

i think women who are attracted to men and dating them making jokes about how they only tolerate being attracted to men because they have no choice and especially the whole i'm bi so i love every woman and only find 1 in a 1000 men attractive (very often said while in a relationship with a man) thing is obnoxious and annoying for like everyone who has to hear it lmao but also when women who date men make jokes about it (not about them being ugly or unattractive or whatever but about them being bad partners in general) it's like. what else are they going to do like you said they're gonna endure patriarchy for the rest of their lives and as girlfriends/wives/mothers they go through the most it's very bleak? idk. it's not like you can date a better man yourself out of patriarchy

of course men aren't a all as bad as the worst guy you can imagine and they're not all out to get you or whatever but saying things like "men don't all benefit from the patriarchy rich men benefit from the patriarchy but jake, 23, is not oppressing you" is like. kind of insane. jake, 14, was oppressing me like have you never interacted with boys in school😭 and it's not like it was entirely their fault we all have to outgrow misogyny it's just you know society etc but some of them never outgrow it lmao and just...the takes you see on feminism on tumblr are astounding i hate it here

[hecksupremechips]

Love being a boy who likes others boys like damn this is pretty silly I can’t believe we aren’t all doing this

[strawbebyjam]

need someone to take the ex RO trope away from me

[ecogas]

if only my depression just evaporated.

[arykaddictedtosoda]

.

[montheline]

❦Short Astro Observations❦

☁️ Aries placements always look AMAZING with short hair cuts like ughhh work you bad ass bitch😍🥹

☁️ I notice that a lot of people I know that are only child’s have a Scorpio sun ☀️

☁️ Having Pluto aspecting the MC or Ascendant of a composite chart can mean having random people obsessing/having jealousy over your relationship (ex. ariana grande and mac miller, winona ryder and johnny depp, kim and kanye...etc lol)

☁️If you have an Aries sun in your composite chart with someone, more than likely they’ll probably feel like your soulmate/first love or you were just already profoundly attracted to them at first sight

☁️ Having 6th house/10th house synastry with someone means there’s a 9.9 times out of 10 chance of you meeting them at work or school

☁️ I’ve noticed that men who have a lot of admiration and respect for women tend to have Capricorn, Cancer and/or Libra placements

☁️ If you have a stellium in the 8th house of your solar return chart be ready for a deeply transformative year (deadass....like i'm so ready for 2023 to be over alreaddddyyyyyyy #yesthisisacryforhelplol

☁️ I noticed people saying oh if you have cancer placements that means that you’re gonna have big boobs, which is definitely not true lol but what I have found to be true is that a lot of times people with cancer placements tend to be of shorter stature (they real petite lol, men tend to be short-average height)

☁️ Having Venus or Lilith in your 12th house can make you have pretty feet

☁️ If you have your moon in someone’s 5th house it’s very likely for them to become your favorite person😍

☁️ Having 9th house synastry with someone can be very transformative and growing. However, this also could also mean outgrowing someone with this synastry, doesn’t mean you won’t be together again it’s just so heavily based on growth and if you guys can’t see eye to eye with this synastry sooner or later you’ll have to let it go

☁️ I feel Edge & Lita we’re a great example of 8th house synastry. There relationship had a lot of “8th house” dynamics (Lita cheated on her boyfriend Matt at the time with Edge, overtly sexual couple, has a “forbidden” vibe, as a couple on t.v. and in real life they received a lot of backlash but it was something so compelling and magnetic about them being together that you couldn’t ever really look away from)

☁️You can always tell when a person has Scorpio placements, it’s in the eyes 👁️👁️. Their eyes always pull you in by the smokiness. Like for example: Anne Hathaway (I guessed she had Scorpio placements in her chart while I was watching my comfort film “Devil Wears Prada” lol..but yeah you CAN TELL BRUH it’s the magnetic pull and the “smokiness effect” of her eyes

☁️ Having a lot of 3rd House or 9th house placements can indicate becoming a teacher/professor or something that deals with teachings and education 👩🏾‍🏫

☁️When gemini placements try to listen to other people talk they have the most hilarious resting face i've ever seen, it's like they look uncomfortable/confused/interested/dissociating all at the same time trying to listen, lmaooo its hard to explain

☁️My favorite teacher is a red head and I remember reading something on tumblr saying "aries placements" can give you red hair or something like that and I told her "i swear if you have aries placements imma freak out" and guess what..she has a aries mars, idk i just felt like sharing this with yall lmaoo

☁️ Finding out that Ed Sheeran has a Pisces venus makes so much sense to me. He made songs like “Perfect” , “Thinking Out Loud”, “Photograph”, etc for crying out loud. Like this man’s a hopeless romantic fr lol (makes the best wedding music too lol)

☁️ Scorpio placements (especially scorpio mars) HATE LIARS.

[netherfeildren]

10:05 PM

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel is exhausted, you're there to make him feel better.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Post Outbreak; QZ Joel Miller; Somnophilia; Established Relationship; Friends With Benefits, kinda; Free Use; PIV Sex; Unprotected Sex; Creampie; Kind of mean and uncaring Joel, but at least he makes you cum; Rough Sex; Somno may or may not have been previously discussed, but she's okay with it happening; He's in kind of in a hopeless and numb state of mind (likely thing for Joel Miller to be)

A/N: idk man whatever i might look into religion after this

Word Count: 1.4K

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

10:05 PM

He’s exhausted.

That sort of tiredness that takes you away from yourself. The sort that takes away rest and peace and the ability to let go. Like you’ve crossed over the edge of the world where sleep is no longer possible, and all you are is sore and dirty and beaten, and you don’t think you’ll ever rest again. It’s just the too hard day, and the too hot sun, and a night that won’t ever end.

 And Joel is tired. 

He knows if he falls into bed now, he won’t sleep. He’ll stare up at the water stained ceiling, the cracks in the plaster deeper than the cracks in his mind, and he’ll find no rest and no peace and no forget, and all he’ll do is remember. 

Pulling his shirt over his head as he goes, he toes one unlaced boot off and then the other, the sweat damp cotton sticking cold and tacky to his back, and it peels off slow, a little disgusting, the grime of his shift all along his skin, in his hair, between his toes and under his fingernails and looking at you, the slow rise and fall of your shoulder as you sleep so peacefully, he knows he shouldn’t touch you, have you, know you. 

He doesn’t really care.

The button of his jeans, sticky, warm summer night air against his already hardening cock, and he watches you. You’re wearing a little white tank, worn and frayed and old as a long past life, ratty panties, too hot to pull the sheet over yourself, nothing but a sheen of sweat for cover. You’re beautiful in the way things aren’t beautiful anymore. Beautiful in a way that makes him not want you. But you’re here, and you’re his, and you give him things he doesn’t deserve, yourself, and Joel is a selfish creature now, bad and bristled in the way this new world demands, so he takes. 

All the time Joel Miller takes things. 

He doesn’t love you because he can’t, because he doesn't have it in him. But there’s peace here, or comfort, or something easy and silent and freely given. Understanding, maybe, which is all anyone can ask for anymore. He shucks his grime covered jeans and crawls over you, and he shouldn’t touch you, never should have, but he does because, again, he’s selfish, he touches you because you let him, because he has nothing else but this to feel good and man about. 

Hooking his fingers beneath the edge of your panties he pulls them down, slow and steady, watching the rise and fall of your ribs, steady heart in the steady rhythm of your breath. You’re still asleep, and he’s going to have you because he can, because you’re his without commitment or ask or demand. Because it’s easy. 

He pushes a soft thigh up high, opening you to his gaze and pulls your cheeks apart gently, dragging a gentle thumb up the crease of your sex as he goes. You hadn’t waited up for him the way you did most nights, and he’s grateful for this, grateful for the fact that you’d spare him from conversation, questions, wants. All the things he can’t give you and doesn’t even really want to because he doesn’t have any of that in him anymore. 

Sometimes, and he’ll admit it because Joel isn’t a liar, honest to a fault, he’ll feel that faint whisper, dream pulse of desire, like a thing he knows exists somewhere in the world just not inside him that beats of  togetherness or commitment or love. Something that beats of all the things he knows you want but he can’t give. 

His thumb against your little clit, and he circles and circles against the warm, damp dryness. You’re not dreaming of him, no immediate well of slick desire, and through his haze, it makes him a little bothered, a little sad if he still had the ability to be sad. But he circles and circles, and you shift and whimper, and then finally, eventually, there’s that drip of want. Sticky and sweet and only for him because he might not love you, but he does possess you, and you’re only for him. 

You turn your face further into the pillow, hips hitching, cunt dripping, a deep sigh and his thumb presses in, tastes the well. You’re warm and hot and tight, and he slicks his thumb in and out of your cunt, fucking you slow and gentle, stretching you a little while you still refuse to wake for him. He wonders what it would be like to love you, to know you dream of him, to dream of you. He shoves your thigh higher, wet enough now, and lines his cock up. 

Joel is tired, but he has this, and it’s enough.

Cockhead notched at your entance, and one thing he does still love: the sight of his too wide head against your too small hole, the sound of wounded hurt you make when he shoves inside and makes you all his. And he keeps himself slow and gentle at first, he doesn’t want you awake, that’s not what this is, he only wants you his and for him, until he’s all the way pressed inside, deep enough for you to wake with hurt and you shift and wiggle and your hips arch like you want to escape or want more but it doesn’t really matter anyways because you’re caught and flayed now. 

“J– Joel?” Soft as a butterfly while your cunt flutters around him. “What’re you doing, Joel?” And if there wasn’t the moan of his own little whore in the sound of you, he’d think otherwise, but he knows you’re pleased to be woken so. You press and clench and stretch like a cat, spine long and lean and fluid, arms reaching for something he can’t and won’t ever give.

He swings his hips back, fucks in again, your cunt’s good and wet now, and the giving’s good as the take. “Don’t worry, baby. Just gotta come. You don’t gotta do anything.” He pulls back again, your pussy flutters and sucks at him, and you plant your hands against the apocalypse stained wall of this poor and sad room in a place that used to be called Boston and let him use you as he needs. Just gotta come in you, he tells you again.

And you might whisper that it’s okay, it doesn’t really matter if you do or don't’. He doesn’t need to know, he doesn’t need to care. Joel buries his face in your throat and loses himself in the wet of your cunt and the heat of your skin, the scent of your sweat, fingers clutching and twisting at your breast, and there's a sound of hurt or want coming from your throat. He doesn't care much about that either. Just take it, just take it, he says over and over. “Just lay there and take my cock.” The sound of your wet, sloshing cunt is the loudest thing in the whole dead world, and he loses himself in it. He counts his breaths, counts his not blessings, only you, and eventually, he fucks deep enough he hits your womb, that place he’s reckless and careless about, and you start to milk him deep. A moan of his name, Joel, sleep addled, love deluded, what else would excuse or allow treatment like this, and you come on his cock like you always do. Long pulls of a too easy, too delicious cunt, the contractions of your womb reverberating through every line of your muscles while you suck him deep and cry into the pillow. Joel swears and sweats worse than he did through his long twelve hour shift, grunting and panting above you. And when he anchors himself above you on locked, bulging arms to watch the drag of your red cunt around his cock, slicked with desperate want for something neither of you will ever have, the way your ass bounces and jiggles against his too rough thrusts, he comes too. Fills you deep and full to the brim, enjoys the spill of it around the place where he fills you, spills himself dry. And he doesn’t feel content, Joel, but he does feel satisfied, he does feel sated. And he tells you that you’ve been a good girl because he knows you like it and knows you deserve it. And if he presses a soft and gentle kiss to the wing of your naked and sweating shoulder, it isn't because he loves you, but because he needs you. 

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog

[sarahscribbles]

Kinks Loki has

Praise kink (receiving and giving)

IDK if this classifies as a kink-Bondage?? I think he would be into the soft kind of bondage

Breeding kink but he won't admit it...unless we coax him to

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐲

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞: 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐒𝐮𝐛!𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟕𝟓𝟐

𝐀𝐍: 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐛!𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Loki whines desperately the second your warm lips leave his cock. You watch, amused, as his hips snap up in a hopeless attempt at chasing your mouth, and how they just as quickly fall when he realises it’s an impossible endeavor. 

His strong arms are stretched out above him and restrained to the headboard by his own magic. Vibrant wisps of green encircle his wrists and pulse wildly with each tug, though they won’t go anywhere until you utter the word. 

He knows this, yet he still strains and pulls like he has a hope of escaping. It’s endearing, really.

“How many times is that, my love?” you ask, stroking his shaking thigh with your fingertips. It’s a gesture meant to reassure as much as tease. 

Your lover lies nude amongst the crumpled cream sheets, chest heaving, brow sweating, and hair fanned around him in a glorious mess of midnight curls. Your perfect, pretty prince.

“T…ten,” he replies, still panting heavily and subtly rolling his hips as bliss ebbs away from him once more. 

As it has done for the past thirty minutes. 

Your fingers continue to lightly stroke his thigh and he sighs softly at the sensation of being so openly adored. “Ten times you’ve given up your pleasure for me,” you coo, taking care to let a pause linger heavily in the air.

As expected, those big green eyes snap expectantly towards you and he seems to almost hold his breath in silent anticipation. There’s a “will she or won’t she?” etched into every line on his face, a wordless plea settled between those partly opened lips. 

Tonight, you have no intention of disappointing him.

“Such a good boy,” you praise him, scooching along the bed so you can cup his face and brush some stray curls back into place. “How lucky am I that you’re mine?”

His eyes light up beneath you, shining like pretty emeralds at your adoration. “Yours,” he repeats back softly, and you watch the rosy pink hue that stains his cheeks and the way his broad chest puffs up with pride. 

“Mhmm,” you murmur back, leaning in to nudge his nose with yours. “The prettiest prince in all the land is mine.”

A smile so soft it melts your heart curls across his lips and you can’t help but press your own firmly to his, moaning eagerly into his mouth and nipping at his bottom lip when you pull away.

He whines again and you catch the same vibrant pulsing of his restraints as he tries to pull you back in. “I’m not going anywhere, my darling,” you assure him, beginning to trail slow lazy kisses along his chest. 

Loki arches into every press of your lips against his skin, breathing out your name like a desperate prayer to the gods. He curses when your tongue runs over a nipple, and then the other, and you feel the firm muscles of his stomach jump and ripple as you continue your descent. 

“You know, I always wonder why I get such filthy looks when we step out together, but now I realise. It’s envy. They’re all envious that I have such a beautiful, gorgeous man in my bed.” You continue to lavish praise on him, hearing his deep inhale and feeling the twitch of his hips as your words roll over him.

“Please, darling,” Loki begs softly. 

Looking up, you see those beautiful eyes trained on you, watching, waiting. You run a hand soothingly along his thigh again and finally take his cock back in your mouth. 

His groan is deep and primal sends heat coursing between your own thighs, but your focus remains entirely on him. You worship him with your mouth, taking as much of his cock as you can until he’s a whimpering, whining mess above you. 

He writhes in the sheets, tugging violently on his restraints and rolling his hips almost frantically into your mouth. You don’t pause for even a second, don’t slow or ease until you feel his entire body tense and he spills into your mouth. 

You eagerly swallow every drop of him, listening to the melody of his broken gasps and moans until he’s totally, utterly spent. 

He whimpers when you kiss the sensitive head of his cock, and half lidded eyes follow you as you crawl back along his body. 

“There’s my good boy,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Five minutes, and then we do it all again.”

Tonight, afterall, was all about him.

[pink3princess]

aaron hotchner x reader hc

tw/cw: sfw AND nsfw, aaron x fem!reader, aaron x afab!reader, reader in their 20's, age gap

an: HES MORE THAN DADDY TO ME…HES LIKE…HES LIKE GRANDPA‼️‼️‼️☝🏼😨😨😭

masterlist

sfw

a hopeless romantic at heart

he knows it's unrealistic to fall for someone so fast, i mean he's a grown man and he has a kid!

but when he meets you, it's just so different

it's like he has a high school crush all over again

i feel like he would generally try to fight his feelings for you, like he's gone through so much, he doesn't know how to start again, especially with someone younger than him

sugar daddy vibes

he loves to spoil you- hands down has the biggest heart and the biggest wallet

ugh he takes you out to fancy dinners and LOVES taking you on vacation all over the place, he spares no expense with you :(((

maybe he regrets not spending enough time with haley and so now he spends as much time with you as he can

pays for your nails; while you are getting them done, he takes himself and Jack out to eat and gets you something to eat for after your appointment :,(

i think he's insecure about your age difference

he worries about how you should be with someone your own age and he’s just keeping you back (jokes on him I luv him and i love old man di-)

he likes to call you in the middle of the night

it's quiet, no one is out, no case to follow up on, no responsibility on his shoulders; it really seems like it's you and him without a care in the world

when you two are laying in bed together, he will be finishing up a report for work while you read

sometimes he asks you to read to him and within like 5 minutes of you reading he's out like a light :(((( he feels so comfortable around you IM-

also vice versa; when he reads to you his voice just soothes you to sleep and he finds it so cute >:(

nsfw

DADDY KINK HELLLOOO‼️‼️‼️ it's literally written on his forehead

size kink

power play/dynamics (idk he likes to be in charge)

dom/sub (we been knew)

[i-cant-sing]

hi! clarification- this isn't a request to write or anything, i just had an idea and wanted to hear your opinion on it

i know you haven't touched the demon slayer scene in a while, but considering uzui's whole nightmare house thing and tanjiro's act of I Do Not See It, do you think that y/n would actually run to another hashira as a last resort?

honestly if yes, i'm betting its giyuu. man is a platonic yandere but would not stand for shit and is probably one of the least insane (although that means. very little in the grand scheme of things). idk i just have the idea in my head of giyuu smuggling y/n into his estate when she needs a break, and going papa wolf whenever uzui fucking breathes in her vicinity, deep-seated insecurities or not. he may not win, necessarily, but dammit will he try.

(can you tell i have a bias-)

No cause I 10000% agree with you. With Tanjirou constantly ignoring your story about being fucking abused physically and psychologically by Uzui+wives, and not paying attention to Nezuko being distressed over your ptsd state, and EVEN looking away when Uzui and the wives are constantly trying to create opportunities to corner you and being a little to touchy with you (and you're flinching away), someone else has to step up and help. And I have 2 people in mind for that.

First, is ofc Giyuu, cause why wouldn't he??? His moral compass is clear as day and he doesn't even need to be a yandere for him to absolutely shred everyone to pieces just to protect you. He can see the fear in your eyes, he can practically feel the hopelessness and anxiety you're suffering through. I think he may even try to convince Tanjiro to see that you're actually telling the truth, but he's not going to break his back to make him believe it. No, he doesn't exactly need him to protect you. Again, I see Giyuu becoming a platonic yandere, maybe more of a brother than as a father figure, and while he's... emotionally stunted, he's going wayyyy out of his comfort zone to console you. Expect a lot of head pats and deep words to assure you. He's a great listener, if it helps. ALSO, I can also see that if Uzui+wives come with other Hashiras to fight Giyuu for you, then Giyuu doesn't exactly have any qualms about joining forces with demons to protect you. Like I just know that if reader vouches for him to papa Muzan and the 12 moons, they would (hesitantly) accept Giyuu and you. After all, he has been the only human so far who's been kind to you.

Another option that I think would step tf up for reader is Sanemi, as a romantic yandere. Because this man, he's got love on the brain and he's fucking KILLING ANYONE WHO TRIES TAKINGBL YOU AWAY FROM HIM. Fr fr, he will actually fight all the hashiras and 12 moons for you. Will he win? No one knows for sure because like I said, he's absolutely batshit crazy when he's in love. Like one peck on the cheek from you is enough fuel for him to obliterate everyone with in 12 miles. Imagine what he's willing to do if he sees you waking up screaming and crying from the nightmares you have of Uzui.

[theetherealbloom]

NO COMPLAINTS | JOEL MILLER

No Complaints | J.Miller One Shot

Summary: In the peaceful town of Jackson, life seems stable. Ellie has found some sense of belonging, but for you, life remains a constant struggle due to the trauma you carry. You've faced loss, isolation, and danger, and you're not sure where you fit in. That's when you cross paths with Joel Miller, a man with a haunted past and a heart hidden beneath a tough exterior.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 8.5k

Warnings: Age-Gap (Late 20s - Early 30s) Angst, Hurt-to-Comfort, soft!joel, suicide ideation, Almost SA (dw nothing gets that far), Assault, Abuse, Blood, Injury, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Panic Attack, Slavery, Ellie and Joel had talked through their problems and everything is ok so no golf =D

A/N: This fic by @familyvideostevie titled “the meaning of it all” inspired me to write again after a long-ass writing slump. Literally, go read all of her fics cause they're just THAT good. Tbh, I’m not sure if this was even good to post since I’ve been out of practice. This one is a little darker than my usual writing, idk how it happened… it just does… so remember the trigger warning ya’ll!

Song: No Complaints by Noah Kahan

MAIN MASTERLIST

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You always thought that you’d find peace in never being awake long enough to feel anything. You lay there staring at the red marks on the hillside and the sharp grooves in the bark of the trees, and you couldn't help but wonder how you got to be in this desolate spot. Your feet, which were now exposed and rough, bore witness to a difficult journey.

All you knew is that one moment, you were fighting for your life from a group of raiders a few miles North, and you ended up where you lay. Had it been minutes? Hours? You weren’t sure as your vision was blurry and hazy, only saw the bleak white winter sky, you could hear crows cawing in the distance as you were freezing, and the snowflakes were on your lashes as you lay there in the snow.

Memories were a blur, time a mysterious riddle. One second, you had been immersed in a life-and-death conflict with savage captors who had enslaved you many kilometers to the South. In the next, you were in this desolate, snow-covered setting, with no clear explanation for how you had arrived. You saw the world through hazy glasses, your eyesight clouded, and all you could see was the stark winter sky, pure and cruel. As you lay there, a lonely soul in the middle of the cold wilderness, the eerie cries of far-off crows provided a haunting tune to your frost-chilled daydream. Each snowflake rested sweetly upon your eyelids.

A ghostly mist danced in front of your eyes with each breath, a whispered reminder of life's fragileness. You tried to relish these fading moments with every exhausted breath out. You felt tired and under pressure from having survived for a long time. You had endured the storm for a long amount of time, seeing pathetically as those you loved died, leaving a thick veil of grief, guilt, and unremitting agony in their wake.

You ached for relief, an end to the never-ending agony that had become your daily existence. During those last seconds, as your eyes closed like a curtain shutting on a world of hopelessness, you heard the muted voices of a group of strangers and the distant sound of galloping horses. A lone figure towered above you, their voice a beacon crying for assistance, while the warmth of your own tears blended with the chill on your cheeks. 

“Please… make it stop,” you gasped, the words escaping your trembling lips like fragile whispers, hanging heavy in the frigid air. "I just want it… to stop." And with that, at that very fragile moment, you gave yourself up to the gentle embrace of the gathering darkness.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

How you awoke unfolded gradually, like the faintest of whispers. First, a parched throat and chapped lips stirred you, and then the sensation of the plush pillow cradling your head, the yielding mattress beneath, and a soft blanket cocooning your form.

Your eyelashes fluttered as you hesitantly blinked awake, and an immediate panic surged within you, constricting your chest. The world around you was unfamiliar, and a gnawing uncertainty clawed at your psyche. Was this a new iteration of hell on Earth?

A relentless drumming, your heartbeat, echoed in your ears, and your vision swirled with chaos as you scanned the alien surroundings. You used your forearms to hoist yourself from the bed, your chest rising and falling with the rapid pace of your breath.

Then, the door swung open, revealing a man in a pristine white doctor's coat, clutching a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake," he began, but your question cut through his words like a knife.

"Where am I?" you demanded, urgency coloring your voice.

"You're safe," he assured, though the reassurance felt as hollow as an echo.

Driven by an instinct you couldn't fathom, you sprang from the bed, the IV drip yanked free from your left hand, a sharp sting preceding the rush of cool air against your skin. Barefoot and resolute, you pushed past the doctor, racing down the dimly lit hallway, your footsteps echoing in the empty, sterile corridors.

With a beating heart, you reach the end of the dimly illuminated corridor and see two enormous doors. With bated breath, you lunged forward, pushing them open and preparing yourself for whatever horrors could be behind them. You expected to be in another harsh and terrible location where the only things that remained consistent were torture and cruelty.

To your astonishment, you found yourself in a simple, wintry town. People of all ages populated the snow-covered streets. Elderly residents chatted quietly on porches, and children giggled and played, their rosy cheeks contrasting with the chilly air. The adults turned in surprise at your unexpected arrival, their faces mirroring a mix of curiosity and concern.

From behind, the approaching doctor and nurses shouted, their voices filled with alarm. In the midst of your confusion and disarray, a strong pair of arms encircled you, causing your instincts to scream in fear. 

"Let go of me!" you cried out, struggling in the grip that held you captive.

A soft, heavy southern accent whispered gently in your ear, "You're okay... you're safe here. Ain't no one here gonna hurt you, darlin'."

Your fear intensified as you flailed and cried inside the confining hold. But you didn't notice the abrupt, stinging prick on your neck because you were too caught up in the chaotic mayhem. The environment around you became blurry and black in a couple of minutes.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The patrol had begun like any other routine, just another day in the relentless grind of survival. The plan was straightforward: coming across a few Clickers and eliminating them like they were just annoyances to be removed. What he had not expected, though, was to stumble across a lady who was on the verge of dying of hypothermia. 

“Please… make it stop,” you begged in a voice so soft and fragile, "I just want it… to stop."

Joel couldn't ignore the desperation in your pleas. He'd been there before, when the world had crumbled into chaos, and he'd lost his daughter. Back then, he saw no point in carrying on, until he'd met Ellie and endured the hardships alongside her. He found her, protected her, and now, he cared for her as if she were his own.

Joel stood there, just across the street from the clinic, his weary eyes and gruff exterior a testament to the countless trials he'd faced. Those brave enough to ask for the details of what had transpired a few days earlier, who he had discovered, were met with curt, direct responses, followed by an icy, hard stare. 

He'd assumed that Maria, Tommy, or whoever had been entrusted with integrating newcomers into Jackson would take care of you. So, for the past few days, he went about his life as best he could—patrolling, teaching Ellie how to play the guitar, constructing new homes, and restoring old ones.

But as he made his way to assist Tommy with yet another task, he saw you in the middle of the street, awake and in a state of panic, clad in your medical gown. His chest constricted with a sudden, unexplainable urgency, and without a second thought, he was sprinting towards you, clutching you against his chest in an attempt to ground you.

Now, you were back in the small room of the clinic, asleep due to the sedative they had administered. Joel sat in a chair beside your bed, patiently awaiting your awakening. He couldn't quite comprehend why he felt drawn to be by your side, to ensure your well-being. He closed his eyes, pressing both palms to his face, contemplating the reason he felt so adamant about your recovery.

Maybe it was the way he had glimpsed the hopelessness in your eyes, a reflection of his own prior misery. The way you had pled, already having given up on yourself, touched a chord within him. He understood that sensation all too well. Despite the plethora of sins he had committed, perhaps aiding you was a chance for atonement, a way to make amends for everything he’s done.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You stirred from your slumber, feeling the haze of grogginess envelop you as your weary eyes fought to open. Gradually, your vision sharpened, and you found yourself in a familiar place. This time, you weren't alone.

Across from your bed, a figure sat in a chair. His countenance was rugged, marked by the passage of time, a salt-and-pepper beard framing a face etched with the stories of his life. His presence exuded a rugged handsomeness, even as he raised a quizzical eyebrow in your direction.

In a deep baritone, his voice resonated through the room as he uttered the words, "You're awake."

You shifted uneasily on the bed and looked at him with wide, unsure eyes, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. His piercing look was enigmatic; you didn't know how to respond, so you decided to be quiet, entangled in a fog of uncertainty.

With a soft hum, he introduced himself, "The name is Joel… Joel Miller. What's your name, ma'am?" His voice carried an air of gruff kindness that gently nudged you to respond, yet you found it hard to meet his gaze. Your eyes darted everywhere but his, and you said your name in a shy whisper, leaving it hanging there like a delicate secret.

Joel's voice wavered as he began, "I'm... I'm not exactly supposed to be here, but I—" 

Your brows furrowed, and your eyes squinted with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion as you interrupted, "Then, why are you here?"

His words stumbled and faltered. "I... I don't—"

Frustrated with the lack of a clear answer, you turned your gaze away from him, your attention drawn to the frosted glass window on your left. Joel fell silent, respecting your need for space.

After a brief pause, you nodded toward the outside, your voice soft, inquisitive. "Is it real?" Joel waited for you to elaborate, and you continued, "There are kids playing in the street, no FEDRA, elderly being taken care of... it all seems so..."

"Normal," Joel finished your thought, and you snapped your head back to him, watching him nod in agreement. "Yeah, I couldn't quite believe it myself, to be honest," he admitted, clearing his throat. "Jackson is a safe place, a good community. They've got real food here."

A weary, exasperated chuckle escaped your lips as you felt a lump form in your throat, and your eyes grew watery. You hugged yourself tightly, seeking comfort in your embrace as you confessed, "I... I don't know what to do."

"We'll figure it out, darlin'," Joel reassured you, his words infused with a tenderness that pierced through his rugged exterior. It was a kindness you hadn't expected, a gentle ember igniting a glimmer of hope within you. Maybe, you began to believe, that life wasn't supposed to be a never-ending punishment after all.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Solidarity was something you thought was long gone ever since the beginning of the apocalypse, where the Infected had taken what they wanted, and the remaining people who survived will always be at war with each other rather than fighting the common enemy.

It took more than a few tries, but eventually, you got the hang of things, thanks to Maria and Tommy, and especially Joel and Ellie. Bits and pieces intertwined with time got you to understand them better and sometimes made you feel less alone. Your mind sometimes wonders how Joel and Ellie met, when Joel practically adopted Ellie as his own, or how they got to Jackson.

You’ve got a house that you have made your own, a bed, and a kitchen. You help give back to the community in ways that you can. You helped in the greenhouse, and the stables, and when you were finally ready, you went out patrolling with the group when you were up for rotation.

Initially, you kept to yourself, often skipping breakfast, lost in a peculiar silence that enveloped you like a shroud. It was a protective cocoon, a way to conceal yourself as if you were an isolated island adrift in a sea of people. The presence of others had always unnerved you, a lingering fear that refused to release its grip.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Taking charge of the stables for the month had its perks, especially when it came to tending to the horses—an undertaking that ranked high among your favorite chores. While two other residents were technically assigned to work with you, the majority of your time was spent in the solitary company of the majestic creatures.

In the quiet embrace of the early morning, just before the crucial handover to the patrolling team, you busied yourself ensuring the horses were well-fed and prepared. Running your fingers through Scout's mane, one of the older stallions, you continued the rhythmic task of brushing his coat, a tranquil hum escaping your lips.

"S'cuse me," a voice interrupted, and you jolted at the familiar sound. Turning your head, you found Joel, surprisingly up and about at this early hour. Mouth slightly agape, you greeted him breathlessly, "Joel, hi."

"Up early for patrol today... so... was wonderin' if you needed any help," Joel's gravelly voice broke through the quiet serenity of the stables.

You tilted your head, a subtle quirk of curiosity. The unexpected shyness emanating from Joel piqued your interest. Scanning him up and down, you suppressed a smile before nodding, trying to appear nonchalant despite the fluttering in your chest. "Um, sure... Could you feed the rest of the horses over there?"

He nodded in acknowledgment before moving with seasoned ease to attend to the horses, his hands moving confidently as he handled the feed and navigated the familiar routine of caring for the animals. As he worked alongside you in the quietude of the stables, the bond between caretaker and horses, and perhaps something more, unfolded in the soft morning light.

"How are you settlin' in in town, darlin'?" Joel inquired, his voice dipped in a gentle southern charm that sent a delightful shiver down your spine. The term of endearment he used left you feeling a sweet warmth spreading throughout your body.

You shrugged, a subtle smile playing on your lips. "Jackson is good, quiet, and peaceful. Never thought a place like this could still exist after... everything."

Joel's gaze lingered on you, and he couldn't help but note, "Well, it's got its charm. People here look out for each other. You included darlin'." His words held a quiet sincerity, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

Your eyes shifted around, a flutter of nerves settling in before gathering enough courage to meet Joel's gaze. You licked your lip nervously, and the words tumbled out, "Joel, I... I never apologized when I... um... first arrived here in Jackson. I'm sorry."

Joel looked at you, seeing the vulnerability in your eyes, and a softness overcame him. He offered you a sympathetic smile, "Nothin' to apologize for."

"You must have thought I was crazy," you lamely laughed, and Joel shook his head, his voice gentle, "No, not at all, just someone who's hurtin'."

You stared at him wide-eyed, feeling a phantom fear of tragedy as if he could see through you, still aware of any negative tendencies you may have. It evoked a sense of helplessness and vulnerability.

Then, a flicker of something in his gaze—a fire, a subtle intensity that caused warmth to spread across your face. An unspoken connection kindled in the quiet space between you, creating an inexplicable but undeniable bond.

Unable to hold his gaze, you looked away, clearing your throat, and tried to hide your smile as you continued to brush out Scout's mane. Joel smirked, watching you duck your head, proud of the way he made you react with just his gaze. The unspoken words hung in the air, a sweet tension that hinted at something more than apologies and simple conversations.

“So… what’s today’s patrol route?” You asked, trying to move the conversation, Joel walked over to you and finished feeding the horses, he stood in front of you and sighed, “Should be a quick one, makin’ sure there aren’t any infected or raiders nearby.”

Time flew by in the hypnotic flow of discussion with Joel before you realized it. His patrol partner eventually arrived, signaling the end of your stolen moments together. As you handed over the reins to Joel, a subtle thrill coursed through you when your hand brushed against his. A soft smile graced your lips, and you whispered, "Stay safe out there, Cowboy."

In response, Joel's steely exterior softened, and a rare, small smile played on his lips. He nodded, meeting your gaze with a warmth that transcended the casual camaraderie. "I will, darlin'," he affirmed, the endearment lingering in the air like a promise.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The kitchen at Jackson bustled with activity, and you were focused on the mundane task of chopping carrots for the evening's stew. Gemma, a fellow resident assisting you, had stepped outside to discuss some news with an acquaintance. The day seemed ordinary, a haze of familiar routines in the post-apocalyptic town.

But then, it happened. A deafening crash of the door bursting open shattered the tranquility, causing you to jolt in fear. Instantly, you were transported back in time, your mind torn from the kitchen and thrust into a nightmare you thought you'd escaped.

In an instant, you weren't in Jackson anymore. Instead, you found yourself in that dreadful place, that sinister basement that still haunted your darkest memories. It was as if the chains that once bound your ankles were clinking and dragging across the worn wooden floor again, just as they had back then. The echoes of your fellow captives' whimpers and cries resonated in your ears, the cacophony of despair down the hall of that wretched basement.

The room seemed to whirl around you, and a frantic panic welled up inside, a chilling flood of memories surging through your mind like an unstoppable tide. It was as if the past, a nightmare you believed you had left behind, had come crashing back into your reality. 

Your throat constricted, and tears welled in your eyes, blurring the faces of the people and the clatter of the fallen knife in the kitchen. You couldn't bear it any longer. You couldn't pretend that everything was okay. You couldn't ignore the haunting echoes of the past any longer.

Without a second thought, you dashed past the bewildered onlookers in the kitchen, their voices fading into a distant, indistinct hum. Your pounding footsteps carried you through the dining hall and out into the crisp, autumn air.

Outside, you continued to run, propelled by an inexplicable urge to escape. The scene before you spun as you sprinted past, driven by an overwhelming need to distance yourself from the nightmarish memories that had clawed their way back to the surface.

Reaching the stables, you sought refuge by pressing your trembling hand against the cool, aged wood of the railing. It was a familiar anchor in this moment of turmoil, offering some semblance of support as your chest heaved, each breath drawn in ragged gasps. Your other hand clung to your racing heart as if to prevent it from leaping out of your chest.

Overwhelmed by emotions too powerful to contain, you eventually collapsed to your knees on the straw-strewn ground of the stables. There, amid the scents of hay, horses, and leather, you allowed yourself to succumb to the tidal wave of anguish. It was a cathartic release, an outpouring of pent-up pain, as you wept for the horrors of the past and for the insidious trauma that still gripped your very soul. The weight of the past was crushing, and a foreboding sense of its unending presence gnawed at you.

Amid the silent stables, in the hushed serenity of the autumn afternoon, your sorrow reverberated through the air. The horses nearby snorted and shifted, sensing your distress. Through your blurry vision, you made out the form of your own horse, Spirit, a palomino, whinnying and restlessly pawing the ground. Even he could perceive your distress.

With a heavy heart, you surrendered to the overwhelming emotions, curling into yourself. You buried your head in your arms, seeking refuge from the maelstrom within.

Time was elusive in that moment of vulnerability, and you couldn't gauge how long you remained in that cocoon of pain. It was the gentle touch of someone's hand on your shoulder that finally roused you from your anguish. Startled, you jolted and flinched backward, your tear-soaked eyes locking onto the familiar figure before you. 

It was Joel. He knelt on the stable floor, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. His hands were lifted in a gesture of surrender, a silent assurance that he meant no harm. His voice, as gruff and comforting as ever, reached out to you with reassurance, "Hey, sweetheart, it's just me. Nothin's gonna hurt'cha."

You felt yourself wrapping your arms around Joel in a vulnerable moment as if motivated by an unsaid desire for comfort rather than condemnation. He hesitated for an instant, but then he threw his powerful arms around you and held you close to his chest. Tears poured easily into his flannel, his hold's warmth providing a haven from the cold.

His hand moved with a soothing rhythm on the small of your back, a gesture meant to calm the storm raging within you. In that quiet corner of the stables, amidst hay and the comforting scent of horses, you let out the pain that had long been buried.

Word had traveled through the residents about the outburst you experienced, reaching Maria's ears. Concern etched on her face, she went to check on you, only to discover your broken state in Joel's embrace on the stable floor. A shared look between Maria and Joel conveyed an understanding, a mutual acknowledgment of the solace he provided. Without a word, Maria nodded in appreciation before quietly walking away, leaving you in the tender care of Joel's comforting arms.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Funny how it all fades away, the chaos of the world and the turmoil within, the very moment you surrender to Joel's arms. It's as if the universe aligns with the comforting embrace, reshaping the way it spins. You find yourself rearranged, your mind shifting, holding on a little tighter in the safety of your old age.

Your past, a fragile tapestry of pain, remains untold, hidden away from prying eyes. No one had ever asked, and the memories were not something you carried with pride.

Before you knew it, tears had given way to exhaustion, and you had surrendered to the solace Joel provided, falling into a peaceful slumber in his arms. Joel, unable to disturb your tranquil rest, gathered the strength to lift you with a gentle grace. Carrying you across the farmhouse they called home, he navigated the familiar halls with the kind of care one reserves for something precious.

In his bedroom, he gently laid you down on the bed, tucking you in with a blanket. You slept soundly, undisturbed by the world outside. Closing the door with a soft click, Joel rested his head against the wood, his tired eyes reflecting the weight of concern.

A voice sliced through the quiet, shattering Joel's contemplation. "Watcha hidin' in there?" Ellie's words caught him off guard, and he jumped, a whispered curse escaping him, "Fuck! Christ, kid, you almost gave me a damn heart attack."

Ellie leaned against the doorframe, her eyes studying Joel's worn expression. "Who's in there?" she asked, her curiosity tinged with concern.

Joel sighed, running a hand through his grizzled hair as he said your name, "She needed someone, kid. Don't worry, she's asleep now." He could see the questions forming in Ellie's eyes, and he continued, "She didn't need to be alone, not tonight."

Ellie's gaze softened, her understanding silently conveyed. "Need any help?" she offered, the bond between them speaking volumes in the unspoken connection.

Joel shook his head. "Nah, I got it covered. Get some rest, Ellie."

As Ellie retreated to her space in the garage, Joel turned back to the closed door, a silent vigil for the fragile peace within.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

As you deeply inhaled, the scent of soft cotton sheets enveloped you, and the plush mattress cradled your form. A gentle breeze wafted through the open window, causing the curtains to sway gracefully. Blinking your eyes open, your eyebrows knit in confusion as the unfamiliar room unfolded before you, a stark contrast to the one you had meticulously crafted as your own.

As you pushed yourself up, the blanket slipped off, revealing a scene that painted a portrait of the person who occupied this space. A guitar stood propped up next to a box of records, hinting at the melodies that might have filled the room. A clock, perched on the wall above a small bookshelf adorned with a multitude of books, ticked away the moments. The window, adorned with a closet nearby, allowed soft daylight to spill into the room, casting a warm glow on the carefully curated details that made this space unique.

Exiting the bedroom, you quietly padded towards the kitchen, drawn by the inviting aroma of breakfast and a faint hum in the air. As you entered, Joel came into view, focused on the morning task of preparing a meal. You said his name, but he tilted his head to the side, as if catching a subtle sound in the stillness. Eventually, he turned around, and a small smile graced his face, revealing the hint of a dimple.

"Oh, you're awake. Good mornin', darlin'. How'd ya sleep?" Joel greeted, his eyes warm and the kitchen bathed in the aroma of breakfast. The worn, well-loved kitchen table held evidence of countless meals, the scent of brewing coffee enveloping the space, and a charming clutter of ingredients spoke of a morning routine crafted by familiarity and care.

“I… I’m–”

“Before you start to apologize for shit that you can’t control, don’t,” Joel interjected, a wry smile on his lips.

Deciding it was too early for arguments, you settled for a small nod, and Joel mirrored it with an agreeing one, “Alright, good.”

You began, “Uh, then I should… uh, see myself out then um–”

Joel shook his head, “Not with an empty stomach, you’re not.”

“But I–”

“Let me take care of you, please?” Joel's request carried a certain weight, and you found it hard to resist. Politely nodding, you ventured, “Is there anything I could help with?”

Joel shook his head, “Just have a seat over there by the dining table.” You complied, the chair scraping against the floor before you settled, observing Joel expertly preparing a spread of plates.

The front door opened, and Ellie walked in with a bright smile upon spotting you. "Hey! You’re still here and Joel hasn’t scared you off yet?”

You began to reply, but Joel scolded Ellie, placing down plates and glasses on the table, "Ellie!"

With a sheepish smile, you told her, "Quite the opposite actually."

Ellie shot Joel a cheeky look as she stuffed her face with food, “Wow! Look at you, when did you become such a social butterfly?” Joel sighed, shaking his head, while you shared a chuckle with Ellie, finding yourself welcomed into the heartwarming banter of their unconventional family.

You three had a nice supper together in quiet companionship. Ellie finally got up from her chair and announced that she was going to hang out at Dina's apartment. Never one to pass up a chance, she gave Joel a playful glance and puckered her lips into a kissy face at him while you were busy with the dishwashing.

By the time Joel was done drying the dishes with a towel and setting them on the drying rack, you picked at the loose skin on the edges of your fingernails, nervously waiting for Joel to ask the question you knew was coming.

“Let’s go sit out at the porch and enjoy the good weather, watcha’ say darlin’?” Joel asks and you bring yourself to look at him and you just nod as you follow him outside. He opens the door for you and gestures to the seat that you take, Joel moves the table around and moves his chair closer to yours.

You inhale deeply, finding solace in the delicate dance of silence and the caress of a spring breeze that leaves goosebumps in its wake.

“Have ya talked to anybody?” Joel's voice breaks the quiet, and you turn your head to meet his gaze, a mixture of curiosity and kindness in his eyes.

“What?” you respond, caught off guard by the sudden question.

“Y’know, made some friends around town?” Joel elaborates gently.

“Are you asking if I have friends?” Your quizzical tone hangs in the air, and Joel huffs, “Well, you ain’t answerin’ the question, honey.”

A sigh escapes you as you weigh the words in your mind. Finally, you admit, “I like being alone.”

“Must be why you’re talkin’ to me so much,” Joel remarks with a smirk.

You meet his gaze, the warm sun highlighting the depths of his brown eyes as he looks at you. Shaking your head, you say, “That’s why I knew you were different. Because, for the first time ever, I wanted someone else’s company more than my own.” The vulnerability in your words hangs between you, suspended in the soft glow of the sun.

Joel's weathered hand envelops yours, a gesture that carries the weight of shared pain. "I’ve had 'em, the um, panic attacks," he admits, his voice a low murmur that echoes the haunting specter of those moments. "Feels like all the air in your lungs is gone, and you begin to feel like you’re drownin’.”

“I see her sometimes,” Joel continues distantly, his gaze lost in the depths of memory. You wait, the air thick with unspoken sorrow. “Sarah, my daughter. I lost her on outbreak day. She was only twelve.”

Your eyes well up, and you squeeze his hand in silent solidarity. "I'm sorry, Joel."

Joel shifts his gaze to his broken watch, a relic that marks the day and time when his world shattered when he cradled Sarah in his arms as she bled out.

“I got Ellie now, and she’s…” Joel trails off, the weight of his feelings for Ellie impossible to articulate fully. She's his everything, the reason to press on in a world that often feels desolate.

“I know,” you say, nodding in understanding.

“Talkin’ about it helps, y’know. Learned the hard way, almost lost her.”

Tears stream down your cheeks as the raw vulnerability in Joel's words resonates with your own pain. “I don’t want to just survive anymore,” you gasp, the ache in your chest palpable. “It hurts, Joel.”

“What happened out there, darlin’?” Joel asks, his voice breaking.

With a sob, you reply, “Nothing good. Nothin’ good, Joel.”

Then, the floodgates open, and you begin to tell an account laced with patches of short-lived joy and a frantic search for any opportunity at a better life. You spoke about the day of the breakout, the terror of seeing your parents die, and the passing of your siblings. You were taken prisoner by deranged and vicious raiders who took you to a basement filled with the deafening screams of violence.

You consider yourself lucky, spared the physical torment, yet the anticipation of it looms, a shadow of dread. "They should've just killed me then and there," you choke out, laying bare the scars that time can't erase.

A surge of anger courses through Joel's veins, an incandescent rage that echoes through his chest, resonating in the very marrow of his bones. The simmering heat in his head intensifies, a visceral response to the mere thought of anyone causing you harm. Every protective instinct in him flares up, urging him to mount a horse and embark on a ruthless pursuit, to track down those who dared lay a hand on you and unleash a torrent of violence upon them.

Yet, a rational part of Joel prevails. He recognizes the urgency of your need, the necessity for his presence here and now. Despite the molten anger that simmers beneath his skin, he restrains the impulse to act immediately. For your sake, he remains seated, the muscles in his jaw tensing as he clenches his teeth, locking away the fiery wrath that threatens to consume him. It's a fierce battle within, between the protective warrior ready for vengeance and the caring soul determined to offer solace. In this moment, he chooses the latter, for you.

The weight of your dreams presses upon you, vivid and haunting, every detail etched into your consciousness. "I've been remembering my dreams, more vivid than they've ever been, every detail and little thing. Every time I think about going back there to save the others I just… I can’t,” you admit, the guilt seeping through every fiber of your being. Joel kneels in front of you, a pillar of support, placing his hand on your knee.

“Let’s go inside, sweetheart,” Joel suggests, his voice a gentle anchor. You nod, allowing him to guide you back inside. Both of you settle on the couch, and Joel scoops you into his arms, a comforting embrace that shields you from the harshness of your own thoughts.

Sniffling, you pour out your heart, “I know I should have gone back for them, but I saw the opportunity, took it, and fought. I fought hard, and then I ran.”

Joel hums, a soothing melody that allows your tears to flow freely. “I thought… I was okay with the idea of dying, right there, in the snow, and then–”

“I found you,” Joel interjects, his voice a soft murmur.

You look up at him, eyes filled with uncertainty. “You found me?”

Joel's voice drops to a low register, his gaze steady on yours. “I found you during the patrol, freezin’ to death. Thought I didn’t make it in time.” The admission lingers in the air, a symbol of the frailty of beating the odds and the silent connection that kept you from falling apart.

You both stay quiet as you try to calm yourself down while Joel holds you, unable to form any response to the revelation that Joel saved you. You know you’re supposed to be grateful, but at the same time, you don’t feel that way. So you settle closer to him and Joel squeezes you a little tighter as if he knows what you are thinking, and there is no judgment, just pure empathy and understanding.

Eventually, you settle down and softly say, “I don’t know what to do,” Joel rubs a soothing hand up and down your back, “We’ll figure it out, darlin’.”

Then for the first time in years, that's when you could finally breathe.

 •───────•°•❀•°•───────•

As the seasons wove their tapestry of change, so did the fabric of your life, threading moments of lightness and warmth. Having shared the weight of your past with Joel, he became a steadfast presence, an anchor in the shifting tides of your existence. Ellie, too, became a companion in the shared journey of growth.

On a particular day, amidst the vibrant greenery of the greenhouse, you found yourself potting plants and tending to the garden alongside Ellie and another resident named Tris. The air was filled with the earthy scent of soil and the symphony of laughter as you engaged in the simple joy of gardening.

Joel, clad in his worn yet beloved flannel, entered the greenhouse, his eyes inadvertently catching the scene of camaraderie and playfulness. He watched, a subtle smile gracing his lips, as you and Ellie exchanged sweet banter, a dance of words that resonated with laughter.

Ellie couldn't resist a playful pun, and you responded with a burst of laughter, the sound harmonizing with the rustle of leaves and the hum of nature. The moment encapsulated the genuine connection, the shared language of laughter, that had blossomed between you and Ellie.

There had never been a label given to the unwritten relationship between Joel and you. It was a wordless understanding, manifested in the tender attention he paid you and the evenings you spent finding comfort in the round of his arms. There was a promise in the air as he held you tight, "I'll keep you safe, sweetheart." The words were genuine and reverberated through the unexplored areas of your connection, a song of love and safety that didn't require any further explanation.

 •───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The morning proceeded as usual, and the break of dawn illuminated Jackson's sanctuary with a hopeful glow. There was a small party of new arrivals, an expected but unusual sight, and the customary welcoming committee was called upon to assist them in becoming adjusted to the way of life in the community.

You and a few others started the annual task of welcoming the newcomers into the communal room that serves several purposes. A mixture of wonder and expectation pervaded the air as the newcomers experienced Jackson's regularity and warmth—a sanctuary amidst the chaos of the post-apocalyptic world.

You did your duty without thinking as the new faces moved into the shared dining room, where a shared meal was waiting. But at the doorway, something stopped you cold, a pause that went against the normal flow of the greeting.

And then, you saw him.

Recognition struck like a bolt, the back of his head triggering a flood of memories—the cadence of his voice, the grimy shirt clinging to his frame, the dirt-encrusted hands that bore the stains of a past you had fought hard to escape. Time seemed to fracture as you stood there, immobilized, your mouth agape and dry, eyes widened in sheer terror.

You could feel the weight in the pit of your stomach, a concrete representation of the eerie memories of abuse and torment. This could not be real. He was not allowed to be here, breaking into the safe sanctuary you had taken refuge in. Previously perceived as a haven of security, the shared area now seemed to evoke images of suppressed anxieties and bad dreams.

His eyes lock onto yours, and a malevolent grin creeps across his face, revealing a set of teeth that seem to glisten with wicked intent. The sight sends shivers down your spine, and an overwhelming sense of nausea threatens to consume you. In that moment, Maria's reassuring grip on your shoulder serves as a lifeline amidst the storm of dread that surges within you.

Her voice cuts through the dissonance in your mind, “You okay? You look unwell,”, her concern accentuated by the chaos unfolding around you. Yet, it's her inquiry that acts as the catalyst for your unraveling. A surge of panic propels you out of the scene, your movements fueled by a desperate need to escape the looming threat.

The world blurs around you as you sprint through the town, a disorienting juxtaposition of familiar faces and judgmental gazes. The echoes of a haunting déjà vu accompany your frantic run, amplifying the weight of your terror. Tears stream down your face, and your breaths come in ragged gasps as your throat constricts, a relentless grip tightening around your airways.

Staggering, you struggle to maintain composure, but the relentless onslaught of fear takes its toll. The corners of your vision blur, and in a secluded moment, away from the prying eyes of the community, your body rebels. The gut-wrenching sensation overwhelms you, and you bend over, retching as the trauma resurfaces in both memory and physical reaction. The ground beneath you bears witness to the aftermath of a confrontation with the haunting specter of your past.

As you slide down the cold, unforgiving wall, a shiver courses through your body, amplifying the stark reality of the present moment. The cool surface offers little solace as you fold into yourself, desperately clutching your knees as if they could shield you from the impending storm.

The air around you thickens with a stifling heaviness, a cruel reminder of the past that refuses to release its grip. Curling into a defensive ball, you hug yourself tight, as though this simple act could ward off the encroaching darkness threatening to consume you.

With your head buried in your arms, the world outside the fortress of your limbs becomes a distant, distorted canvas. The minutes unravel, each tick of the clock echoing the pulsating rush of blood in your ears. The simplicity of the moment clashes with the complexity of the emotions swirling within.

Seventeen again, caught in the clutches of an awful, horrible place that has become an indelible scar etched into the tapestry of your existence. The pain is not merely a memory but a living, breathing entity, clawing its way back into your present, rendering the passage of time meaningless.

The walls around you seem to close in, their echoes carrying the weight of your history. It's a stark reminder that the past, no matter how desperately you've tried to escape it, remains an unwelcome companion, haunting the recesses of your soul.

You feel the air thicken as he draws near, his presence casting an ominous shadow that seems to devour the feeble rays of sunlight. A cold shiver races down your spine, a chilling prelude to the encroaching darkness. His footsteps echo like ominous drumbeats, each one resonating with an unsettling promise.

"You thought you could escape, huh?" The words slither from his lips like venom, his voice a malevolent symphony that pierces through the ambient sounds of the surroundings. His gaze, filled with a malevolent gleam, locks onto yours, trapping you in a macabre dance.

Despite your mind screaming at your limbs to flee, a paralyzing fear roots you to the spot. The weight of your past sins, haunting and relentless, manifests in the figure before you. His form, etched with the scars of your shared history, now looms with a menacing intent.

"Did you really think you could hide here? With these people?" His tone drips with disdain as he gestures to the community around you. The tendrils of his threat extend beyond mere words, reaching into the very fabric of your newfound sanctuary.

Your breath catches as his words morph into a menacing promise. "I can take it all away, you know. Everything you've found here." His gaze shifts to the people you've come to love, their laughter and camaraderie now tainted by the looming specter of his return.

Nathan. A name, almost lost to the recesses of memory, surfaces in your mind – a cruel reminder of the scars he etched upon your soul. In this ominous confrontation, the echoes of your past reverberate with the sinister intention of reclaiming what he believes belongs to him.

Nathan's grip tightened around your arm, and you let out a scream, thrashing wildly to break free. As your nails clawed at his face, Nathan spat out a curse, "You fuckin’ bitch, I’ll kill you!"

In desperation, you tried to stand, but he grabbed your ankle, dragging you mercilessly across the floor. Your knee aimed at his face was thwarted, and his hands closed around your throat. The air in your lungs dwindled, and you kicked and screamed in a futile attempt to escape.

Feeling the switchblade in your pocket, you willed yourself to grab it. Flipping it open, you cried out as you stabbed him in the neck. Joel stormed towards you, anger etched across his face, but before he could intervene, you pulled out the switchblade, attacking Nathan with a frenzy of stabs.

"Stay the hell away from me!" you cried, each word punctuated by a vicious thrust of the blade. Tears streamed down your face as you unleashed your rage on the man who haunted your nightmares.

Joel, realizing the danger, moved swiftly. He pulled you away from the blood-soaked scene, shushing you and grabbing your wrist. The switchblade fell from your grip, staining the grass, and Joel held you close, shielding you from the aftermath of the violent confrontation.

Amidst the chaos, Joel's voice cut through, reassuring and protective. "Easy, sweetheart, easy. You're safe now." The echoes of your cries mingled with the distant sounds of Maria, Tommy, and others dealing with Nathan.

Maria's gaze shifted towards you, concern etched across her features. She turned to Joel and gave a decisive order, "Go and make sure she’s okay." Joel's response was a firm nod, an acknowledgment of his responsibility.

There was a hint of irritation in Joel's eyes as he escorted you home with an arm around your waist. It was an aging-related displeasure with himself for not being fast enough. But he was driven by desire to take care of making sure you were safe, and he brought you home with a strong sense of protectiveness. The atmosphere was tight, with echoes of Maria's instruction that spoke of the need to protect you from the horror that had recently occurred.

 •───────•°•❀•°•───────•

In the quiet confines of the bathroom, Joel tenderly cleans the cuts and blood on your skin. The sterile scent of antiseptic hangs in the air as he carefully tends to your wounds. His touch is gentle, a stark contrast to the harsh memories that still lingered.

Joel glances at you while he works, capturing your attention. Through the difficulties you've undergone together, you've built a mutual understanding and a silent bond. The air changes, as trust and frailty meld together at that one instant.

Joel stops and meets your eyes for a brief period. There is a tangible tension between you that none of you can deny. The air seems heated. He places the first aid kit aside and reaches for your face with his hands.

Without a word, Joel leans in, closing the gap between you. The touch of his lips against yours is a gentle reassurance, a promise that you're not alone. In that tender kiss, there's a quiet acknowledgment of the strength you've found in each other.

As the kiss lingers, the weight of the past starts to lift. It's a moment of solace, a testament to resilience and the possibility of healing. Joel pulls away slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort or hesitation.

And in the quiet bathroom, amid the wounds of the past, you find a newfound feeling of hope, grounded in the connection established through endurance and the compassion of Joel's care. Joel smiles softly and says, "You deserve to be happy, darlin'. Let me take care of you."

As Joel continues to care for your wounds, a sense of calm settles within the small confines of the bathroom. The sting of antiseptic is a tangible reminder of the present, but you find solace in the fact that Joel is here, offering comfort and care.

He finishes cleaning the last cut, his hands lingering for a moment before he retreats. There's an unspoken understanding between you, a silent agreement that this moment marks a turning point. The ghosts of the past may linger, but the present holds a promise of healing.

Joel's gruff voice breaks the quiet, "You're a tough one, you know that?" A hint of a smile plays on his lips, a rare sight that warms your heart. You manage a small smile in return, grateful for the unexpected bond that has grown between you.

Leaning back against the bathroom counter, Joel lets out a sigh. "You've been through hell, and here you are, facing it head-on. I've seen folks crumble under less. You're stronger than you think."

The atmosphere shifts as Joel's gaze meets yours again. There's a question lingering in the air, one that goes beyond words. You realize that this moment is a crossroads, a chance to choose your path forward.

"You're not alone in this," Joel reassures, his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that transcends the scars of the past. "Whatever you need, I'm here."

In that moment, you feel a surge of courage, a newfound strength that emanates from within. The pain of the past begins to lose its grip as you accept Joel's support. The familiarity of the bathroom transforms into a sanctuary, a symbol of resilience and the possibility of rebuilding.

As you rise from the seat, Joel watches you with a quiet intensity. You get closer as the uncovered pull between you becomes stronger. This is a turning point in your life when you realize that you are now in control of the two worlds you have battled to survive and are determined to rebuild.

Joel's weathered hands find yours, a comforting embrace that symbolizes the connection you've forged. The tension that once lingered now gives way to a shared understanding, a silent agreement to face the future together.

In the hushed bathroom, among the fragments of the past, you lean in, closing the distance between you and Joel. The kiss that follows is a testament to resilience, an affirmation of the strength found in vulnerability. It forms a bridge between the hope of the next day and the scars of yesterday as it becomes deeper. 

Joel pulls away, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt or hesitation. Instead, he finds a glimmer of determination, a spark that signals a new beginning. With a whispered promise, he says, "We'll face whatever comes our way, together."

With Joel right there beside you, you walk into that tiny, quiet room, ready to tackle whatever the world throws your way. Strangely enough, the weight of the world feels lighter with him around. No complaints from you—just a sense of readiness for whatever comes next.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

End Notes:

tbh, I blacked out while writing this--- so UH if there are any inconsistencies let me know! :>

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream as Taylor Swift songs. (angst version)

AN: Another NCT Dream as Taylor Swift songs ;> enjoy!

Mark Lee ; Back to December

And then the cold came, the dark days When fear crept into my mind You gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye

Starting strong with Back to December. CRIES. Mark is so Back to December-coded, like literally. He's that guy that you'll love at your very worst that's why you regret breaking up with him. Like!!! He was there for you, he gave all of him to you and you ended up hurting him. And your breakup with him was so HARSH that you know that you hurt him so much, and as much as you two are civil, you know that there is a wall between you too. CRIES AGAIN. 

Huang Renjun ; Cardigan

But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs The smell of smoke would hang around this long

Okay but, in this scenario, Renjun is your cardigan. He's a hopeless case of falling in love with someone who could never love him back. And as much as it hurts him, he still ends up going after you whenever you need him, and it didn't matter to him!! Because he loves loves you so much even though at the end, he might thrown again like an old cardigan. 

Lee Jeno ; Say Don't Go

Why'd you have to (why'd you have to) Make me love you (make me love you)? I said, "I love you" (I said, "I love you") You say nothin' back

Idk how to describe how much Jeno fits Say Don't Go so much. He's the type who will lead you onto something, whisper those sweet words, and will make you feel like he loves you so much. But then he doesn't, and you're there helpless, wondering if all of it are real. And to stop your daydreaming, you walked away first BUT you waited for him to chase after you, but it the end, he didn't and it hurts you so much. 

Lee Donghyuck ; Would've, Could've, Should've

I can't let this go, I fight with you in my sleep The wound won't close, I keep on waiting for a sign I regret you all the time

I know Would've, Could've, Should've's meaning is different BUT HEAR ME OUT. I chose this for Haechan because it fits him so much, something about being a relationship with him can be a destruction of you too. You were clueless of yourself when you're with him and when you two broke up, you're left ruined because of him!!! And years passed and you thought you're alright, but the wounds are still open and you couldn't do nothing about it. 

Na Jaemin ; Champagne Problems

I never was ready, so I watch you go Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you

It's a YOU problem with this one. You love Jaemin so much, he's everyone's ideal man and a perfect husband material. It's just, you're not ready for marriage and family. So not only did you rejected him, but you also broke up with him because you know that it's for the best. So you watched him from afar, engaged to a girl who probably suits him better than you. She'll be a perfect wife for Na Jaemin. 

Zhong Chenle ; You're Losing Me

I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier

I think Chenle suits You're Losing Me because I feel like he's the type who's very confident with his relationship, and while it's low-maintenance it slowly fades away. There's no sparks, no more thrill, and you two are slowly becoming strangers living under the same rooftop. He becomes clueless, and you're on the verge of giving up fighting your relationship with him. Until one day, you did. You broke up with him.

Park Jisung ; Happiness

Haunted by the look in my eyes That would've loved you for a lifetime Leave it all behind And there is happiness

Happiness is so underrated tbh. Jisung is happiness-coded because it felt like a breakup that ended up civil because you two knew that your relationship is not working anymore. And as you two separate ways, there's relief and happiness. But still, there's a price of it, and that is your relationship with Jisung.

[pix3lplays]

Hiii

May I have a scenario for my lovely Sir crocodile🔥? x fem!reader , in which she's the complete opposite of him, so shy and petit , and he lowkey finds her cute and tries to hide it, however his possessive side shows up when some one else is showing interest to his lover (idk I have mihawk in my mind lol) and smoothly shows them who she belongs to , ~The Kisses~ you see 👀 omg the size difference (sorry I'm literally a simp for this man) and I just know he is a hopless romantic 👁

I hope ur ok w such request🧎🏻‍♀️ it's my first time asking, sorry if I did it wrong, u can ignore it. and tnx!

Okay! I love this!

and as a fellow Crocodile simp, I hear you >:)

Tw! Crocodile is toxic, possessive behaviors

-Sir Crocodile x fem!reader who’s the exact opposite of him-

You were shy and quiet and petite and sweet…in such strong contrast to your bold, villainous, violent husband.

He thinks your cute, though, he’d never admit that. Especially to you.

The size difference between you two…

His kisses are rough and passionate, and he has a nasty tendency of grabbing your face while you’re kissing.

Sir Crocodile is his own version of a hopeless romantic, doing romantic things for you on his own schedule. Fancy dates, flashy gifts…the whole works. It really is…romantic.

-

He couldn’t BELIEVE that Mihawk had the AUDACITY to show a SMIDGEN of interest in HIS s/o.

You’re in Rain Dinners casino, chatting with the handsome man over a drink, not thinking anything of it until Sir Crocodile comes stomping over.

“MIHAWK. What do you think you’re doing?” Crocodile demands.

Mihawk looks up at him disinterestedly, his hand lingering dangerously close to yours as he sips at his wine with his free hand.

“Oh, do you know this woman?” Mihawk asks casually, tracing his finger along your hand. You notice the gesture and pull away a bit, murmuring a warning, “Mihawk…he’s my-“

“I’m her HUSBAND, of course I know this woman!!” Sir Crocodile bellows, and you wince a bit, but Mihawk seems unbothered.

“Ah, I see…” he says, his hand not leaving yours. You’re feeling a bit uncomfortable.

At this rate Sir Crocodile was probably jealous. And when Sir Crocodile got jealous he tended to-

“Y/n. Here. Now,” he demands.

You get a nasty feeling in your stomach.

“Croc, really? Are we really going to-?”

“NOW,” he demands again.

You get up from the table, pulling yourself free from Mihawk…and begin the walk of shame to where your husband is standing.

People are starting to stare. And whisper. Sir Crocodile was going to make another example of you.

He grabs your face, roughly. And then kisses you. The kiss tastes like sand and smoke, and it’s rough and gritty and passionate.

Mihawk, and the rest of the crowd, watch in surprise for a moment, before turning back to their drinks.

Finally, finally, after what feels like an eternity, he breaks the kiss, then addresses the audience he’s made.

“Anyone ELSE want to flirt with MY wife?” he asks dangerously, still gripping your face tightly.

Everyone stares into their drinks.

He regains his composure, huffs. “Good. That’s what I thought.”

You can’t believe your husband just did that. But oh, in a way you could believe it.

That was so like Crocodile to do…

And in a way…maybe you liked that about him. His unpredictability. His dangerousness.

It was romantic, in a way…

[lnfours]

idk if im late or not for the snow day req 🤧 can i req this with lando? tysm 🧡

all too well - bad breakup, you lost your self-esteem, why not you? "i can still remember it like it was yesterday"

IM BACK! my semester started the other day and i’ve been busy as fuck but don’t worry we’re cleaning out the inbox today!

anon, i hope you enjoy this! i’m so sorry it took so long 🥲 i had to include a fluff ending bc im too much of a hopeless romantic

cleaning out my inbox

the house was empty, quieter than normal as you sat on the couch. the ran pattered against the roof, droplets dripping down the glass that mirrored the tears on your cheeks.

it had been a few months since you broke up. his busy schedule and yours intermingling only causing more harm than good. you felt like you never got to see him, and when he was home you were always busy. obviously you knew what you were getting into with his profession, under the impression that you both could make it work.

but after six months of trial and error, you both decided that despite the overwhelming amount of love you had for each other. there was no one else who could compare to him. there was no better feeling then the love you had for each other.

your friends had all played the classic ‘boys suck’ and ‘find someone knew’ cards when in reality it took all of you not to book the first flight to whichever city he was in that week and get wrapped up in him all over again. to breathe in the smell of his cologne and laundry detergent, the smell that felt like home.

your thoughts were interrupted with a knock on the door. you wiped your tears quickly, glancing down at the time on your phone and wondering who was paying you a visit this late in the evening. especially unannounced.

you unlocked the door and opened it to reveal the man who had infiltrated your thoughts for the past three months. gorgeous green eyes meet yours, brown curls stuck to his forehead because of the rain. backpack resting on his shoulders as a small carry on luggage sat beside him. he wasn’t really sure what urged him to tell the uber driver to drop him off at your doorstep instead of his own place, but he was glad he did the moment your eyes met.

“sorry,” he mumbled softly, awkwardly shifting after taking in the silence between you, “i should’ve texted.”

you shook your head, opening the door for him to seek shelter from the rain, “it’s okay, come in.”

he did as you told him to, leaving his bags and shoes by the door as you made your way into the kitchen. he shrugged off his hood, running a hand through the wet curls as you reached up on your tippy toes for a mug, “want some tea? it’ll warm you up,”

“teas good,” he nodded, sending you a soft smile, “thanks.”

you turned the stove on, fire igniting under the kettle, turning to face him on the opposite side of the island.

“why’re you-?”

“were you-“

you both started at the same time, exchanging a slight chuckle before he shook his head, “you first, your questions probably more important than what i was gonna ask.”

you nodded, licking your lips, “i was just gonna ask why you’re here,” you said, immediately rambling after, “- not that i mind, i did say my door was always open if you needed something but…”

you trailed off and he nodded, swallowing thickly, “i don’t really know, to be honest,” he said, suddenly more interested in his fingers as he broke eye contact, “i’ve been thinking about you and what happened between us over the past few months and i,” he took a deep breath, “i missed you.”

you bit down on your lower lip, “lando-“

“i know, i know,” he said, finally looking up to meet your eyes again, “i should’ve probably texted, and i had this entire speech rehearsed in the car from the airport but when i saw you, it all kind of just went out the window. i can go if you want me to-“

“no,” you cut him off, “no, i don’t want you to go.”

he nodded, “i just felt like telling you i still loved you in person was a better idea rather than telling you over the phone.”

you heart stopped, jumping up to your throat. you didn’t know what to say, you hadn’t really thought about what you’d say if he ever came back. you just assumed he had moved on and forgot everything about you, just like every other man had.

but he wasn’t like those guys. that being the key reason you fell in love with him to begin with.

“and i’m sorry for being so shitty,” he said, “for not being the perfect boyfriend to you. i know it’s a slim chance, but if you’re willing to work it out, so am i. i want everything life has to offer with you.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, “i’m sorry, too,” you breathed out, “i wasn’t totally understanding about your career and how hectic it was. if im being honest, i never stopped loving you. even when you were gone, i couldn’t keep my mind off of you.”

he approached you now, coming to stand in front of you. you smiled gently up at him as he spoke, “a complete redo, for the both of us, a clean slate - if that’s okay with you?”

you nodded, “very much so, yeah.”

he smiled down at you, his arms winding around your waist as yours wrapped around his neck. he hugged you tightly against his body, the smell of his cologne filling your senses. the smell of him; home.

the tea kettle whistling pulled you apart, you reaching to turn to the stove off as you grabbed the kettle. he watched you with love filled eyes as you made the tea, holding his mug out to him with a smile when you prepared it to his liking.

you remembered.

“so,” you said, smiling over the rim of the mug, “tell me everything i missed.”

[lueurjun]

hufflepuff boyfriend heeseung

feeling really inspired these days idk why, hence why the frequent posts. i might do a written scenario on this too. also lmk if you want more hogwarts enhypen. this is also really long so i’m very sorry about that but i’m running on no sleep it’s 5 am and i’m tired so pls if it’s bad cut me some slack aasdhfkfkdl enjoy

idc what anyone says lee heeseung screams hufflepuff to me

maybe bc i’m a hufflepuff and i want that man in my house

let me have my moment

for the sake of this you guys are also in hufflepuff because this was an impulsive burst of motivation I DONT HAVE A LOT TO WORK WITH RIGHT NOW PLS LET ME LIVE

change it in your mind if you’d like

anyways we’re going for the you fell first, he fell harder trope

i mean who wouldn’t fall at the mere sight of him?

you began harbouring a little crush on him during third year

specifically during potions class when he took the fall for you against snape after you messed up the shrinking potion

he wasn’t even mad. he just gave you a small smile and told you ( gently) to be more careful

you never messed up ever again because if lee heeseung tells you to be careful YOU BE CAREFUL

anyways yes from then on you’re all heart eyes for him any interaction leaves you a bumbling mess

he once sat down next to you in the great hall and you damn near drowned yourself in pumpkin juice

he didn’t reciprocate your crush until fifth year

he’s a lil slow but hey! we got there in the end

his crush specifically started after he got sick and had to spend some time in the hospital wing and you went to great lengths to get past madam pomfrey JUST to give him your notes

you’re an adorable little magic try hard for him like who would go to great lengths like you? no one heeseung should put a ring on it rn

or else i will

jkjk

unless…

ANYWAYS

you’re very good at hiding your crush ( for the most part other than the fact that you freeze whenever he’s around ) but you’re not completely hopeless

heeseung, on the other hand, is absolutely hopeless

anytime you’re in the vicinity this boy becomes a blushing mess

literally heart eyes for you

you notice that he’s acting different and at first it scares you because suddenly he seems distant

and you start panicking

so you go to sunghoon

bad idea

“is heeseung mad at me?”

“yes. he hates you.”

“WHAT?!”

cue jake stepping in with a wild look of panic on his face

“HE DOESN’T HATE YOU!! SUNGHOON WHAT ARE YOU DOING THIS IS OUR DEAR FRIENDS SOULMATE!!! WHY ARE YOU CAUSING TROUBLE?”

sunghoon just sips his pumpkin juice and goes: “funny”

it wasn’t funny you almost cried

little baby hogwarts student riki who follows them around found it hilarious tho

“HA GOOD ONE HYUNG”

jake is like a stressed out father

“riki nishimura eat your toast!”

and you’re just confused because you heard jake call you heeseung’s soulmate in a moment of stress

heeseung is blissfully unaware of the turmoil at the dinner table when he strolls into the great hall

though he goes paler than nearly headless nick when he sees you, his precious little soulmate, surrounded by the group of demon spawns he calls his friends

he manages to go even paler when you stand up and march towards him with a look of determination

and he’s taken by surprise when you yank his tie and drag him out of the great hall prompting many hoots and whistles from your friends

poor heeseung just wanted some breakfast

you pull him into a quiet corner and he’s absolutely petrified

“do you hate me?”

you surprise yourself with how blunt you are

it takes a moment for the question to register in heeseung’s mind and when it does…he starts?? laughing

like manically

him? hate you? that’s the funniest joke he’s ever been told

then he catches onto your ‘wtf’ look and realizes that you’re serious

mortified. sickened. DEVASTATED at the fact that you think he hates you

“no-no! oh my god! no no. i don’t hate you? HATE YOU? ME? Goodness no! I’m sorry I made you feel that way-it’s just…you make me nervous and you’re really good looking and i think-no i KNOW! I KNOW i’m in love with you. please don’t hate me”

honestly you aren’t sure what you was expecting but it definitely wasn’t that

you’re at a loss of words because holy shit

lee heeseung likes- no! no he said loves! he loves you

there’s no words that come out

instead you dry heave and heeseung nearly sobs at the fact that he made you almost throw up with his confession

and that makes him dry heave

so there you both are in the corridor continuously heaving

jake, sunghoon and riki are peeking around the corner watching the whole exchange

one looks perplexed, and the other two look absolutely delighted

“bet you five galleons heeseung throws up first”

“you’re on”

“you are not betting on our friends failure! and riki stop gambling you’re like six”

anyways back to the shit show which is confession land

both of you manage to keep down the contents inside your stomach much to the dismay of sunghoon and riki

“i wasn’t- i got nervous!” you try to explain

“it’s completely fine! i wasn’t meant to confess like that and i already knew you weren’t like-into me—“

sunghoon has had enough

bro pops out from around the corner

“they’ve liked you since before merlin was even cruising around! just date already and spare me of this torture!”

everyone say thank you to sunghoon because after his help, the two of you start dating

finally! this took longer than i anticipated-i got carried away very sorry! okay continue

THE RELATIONSHIP YAY EVERYONE APPLAUD

the professors definitely shipped it and had bets on you both

snape owed mcgonagall twenty galleons

even dumbledore was in on it

holding hands under the table is an absolute must

heeseung does this thing when he senses you getting a bit stressed out in class where he’ll rub his thumb over the back of your hand

finding you both curled up together in the common room is a regular occurrence

you’re both devastatingly awkward but in the cutest way

that’s also really painful to watch sometimes

cue your friend group watching you get all blushy and flustered after shamelessly flirting with each other

“someone break them up before i avada kedavra myself here and now”

dragging heeseung by the tie is a common occurrence

and he has a thing for walking behind you gripping the sides of your shirt or robes

you’re both terribly protective of each other

if anyone hurts heeseung’s feelings, oh boy! not even voldemort would be able to stop you

“did they just insult you, hee? i think they did. HEY YOU! SAY THAT TO HIM AGAIN AND WATCH HOW FAST I RIP EVERY HAIR OUT OF YOUR SCALP, YOU TOAD!”

and if anyone upsets you? oh boy.

he literally shaved someone’s eyebrows off for making you cry. man knows no consequence when it comes to protecting his partner

you both get really shy about pda

so that means whenever you want to share a peck, one of you will hold up a book to hide your faces

making out in the restricted section is a must

the two of you start sneaking off and it becomes noticeable to your friends

“where are they?”

“probably swallowing each others tongues”

when they finally investigate they find out that the two of you have been sneaking off to read muggle stories to each other in the abandoned bathroom

even moaning myrtle cringes at how in love the two of you are

the two of you are really happy

and everyone else is happy that you’re happy

“dibs on naming the future child!”

“sunghoon you are absolutely never naming our baby”

“why not? sunghoon jr lee has a nice ring to it”

you manage to compromise and agree to let sunghoon be the best man at your wedding

he did get the two of you together

perhaps the two of you should repay the favour and find him a match?