#once that happened i was able to spend the day being productive

[unorthodoxdeity]

SebaCiel for the ask game!

Yaaaay my blorbos!!!

1. what made you ship it?

I started shipping it when I was like 12 and really into black butler, stopped thinking about it for years then all of a sudden I started shipping it again. I don't really know if I have a reason, Sebastian is one of my favs and I wanted to ship him so naturally he went with Ciel. I also started shipping him with will, grell, claude, and everyone else under the sun but ciel has always been #1 because there's a lot of content for those two. Shipping gives me the happi chemicals so I do it a lot.

2. what are your favorite things about the ship?

I like when one character can scoop another character up. I also like butlers. They have a lot of drama between them with the whole uncaring demon about to eat human thing so it's fun. I normally disregard canon because canon makes me sad and that's not what I'm in this business for so I think they can have a lot of fun slice of life moments. Ciel tries to become competent and Sebastian laughs. Ciel following Sebastian around the manor. Good Food.

3. what is an unpopular opinion you have about the ship?

I've always seen people that get upset when they're made to have a happy relationship and I've never gotten it. Like yeah black butler is a tragedy but someone enjoying fluffier content in fanfiction doesn't erase that. I've never been the kind of person that ships because it made sense or because of any interesting dynamic or anything of Substance. Like yeah sure they have a very interesting dynamic and tons of substance which is perfect for people who are into that, that was never part of the allure for me though.

Any time I like a character enough to ship them they are not in canon. In my canon pain is not real. If they feel discomfort it is temporary. I am disconnected from the discomfort and therefore they are too. Unhappiness as it stands in any sort of canon or in real life literally does not exist in my world. That may sound really boring to someone who actually enjoys plot but for me I think it's a weird coping mechanism. They don't fight, they're joint at the hip, Ciel is always being carried and noone gets sad until I am BORED and need to FEEL SOMETHING.

That being said I don't even think of them in canon when I think of them. I don't even think of them in any sort of au. They're literally in a curated world with all the other characters I like at the time and they're in my little brain tv show I've been curating since I was like 10 that I use to make me giggle sometimes.

[nihilistem]

adhd study tips.

by a stem student with adhd.

disclaimer!!! I’m by no means an expert in mental health or adhd but I do happen to have it. My intention with this post is to help others with adhd get more comfortable with studying so the process will be smoother for them!! At the end of the day, despite having the same disorder our brains will still work differently so do keep in mind that these may or may not help you, but are something you can try out if you’re stuck on not being able to study efficiently.

here’s some adhd study affirmations + tips on straying from discouragement if you’re experiencing burnout.

(And here’s part 2 of adhd study tips.)

I’ll start this off by listing more commonly known study tips that also work well with adhd.

change up your environment every now and then. we seek novelty even more than neurotypical people already do so switching it up will definitely help in our studies, especially if the place is well lit!

try some questions of the topic you’re trying to learn even when you know nothing about it. both neurotypical and neurodivergent brains are hardwired to remember things when we are proven wrong, and this is a great way of utilizing this neurological response!

take walks, exercise or stretch during your breaks. this tip is very effective at satiating our hyperactivity and also keeps us energized throughout our study session.

keep a notebook for your brain dump / ideas. we always either think of really stupid things or the most brilliant ideas in the middle of our study sessions and it almost always leads to distraction, but writing it down somewhere lets your brain know that the idea isn’t going anywhere and you can continue studying.

now, onto the tips that have personally helped with my adhd (and I haven’t seen many others talk about.)

alternate between various study plans, routines, schedules and techniques and always be open to finding more of them. majority of the time people always say ‘have a routine that works for you and stick with it’ but our adhd brains get bored very quickly, especially when it comes to repeated routines and schedules. I personally never stick to the same routine or plan more than three days in a row and sometimes I even make a plan on the spot and I’ve been more productive doing that than when I had only one or two study routines to switch between.

do not time yourself at the very beginning. Instead, focus on something in your studies you’re interested in and start there. what do I mean by this? well, since starting is always the hardest, when we begin our very first pomodoro we might find ourselves spending the first 25 minutes zoning out on a textbook just to get that ‘study time’ in even though you didn’t actually learn or recall anything. So to combat this, begin with something you’re genuinely curious about, or ask a question you can’t help but wonder the answer to. Once you find the answer, you might find you’re more in the zone and can continue from there. If not, take a short break and begin the pomodoros afterwards.

if you’re zoning out while reading up on a topic, try walking around while reading, looking at different sources on it or do some questions on that topic. again, novelty always gets us every time. sometimes the problem may be that the explanation in front of you isn’t making sense in your head and other sources may phrase things in a way that is better for your understanding. perhaps the problem is that you’re staying too still and you need to satisfy the hyperactive part of your adhd. or maybe your brain subconsciously believes that they already know what needs to be known about this topic, and there’s no better way to test that by trying out some questions on it.

switch between lyrical and non-lyrical music playlists, but make sure the lyrical music inspires you to excel. this definitely won’t apply to a lot of people but I found that when I constantly listened to piano, lo-fi or just non-lyrical music while studying in general, it actually promoted my likelihood of zoning out. but recently I found a playlist I deeply resonated with that was related to my studies called, ‘pov : a try-hard mid student who wants to ace everything’ and because I related very deeply with both the title and the lyrics of the songs, I was actively being encouraged to study as I was studying. but I also recognize when I really need to think in certain areas and that’s when I switch back to the non-lyrical music.

this is all I have as of right now but please do lmk if you guys want more of these!! I really wanna help out as much people as possible because my studies suffered greatly due to both my adhd and my late diagnosis of it and I’d love to help out others going through something similar.

[bloodynereid]

Hi, Jordan Li fan here again! Could you maybe write an angst/comfort fic where (preferably gender neutral) reader really likes Jordan, but because Jordan and Marie have been getting closer they’re scared to confess? So they try to distance themselves from Jordan and eventually the secret comes out? Bonus points if there’s some sort of panic attack + comfort in there :). Again, completely understand if not, no pressure. Have the best day!!

Whiskey in the Shadows

pairing: jordan li x gender neutral reader

tw: cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of suicide, death, canon typical violence ish, panic attack, kissing

description: jealousy is a rather stupid emotion that unfortunately you have to contend with.

a/n: hope you enjoy this one <33 i literally wrote it out in like less than an hour and i'm actually happy with the result so yayyy. requests are open as always and yeah don't have much else to say.

Life at God U was something you had to adjust to over the years. It was completely different from the time you spent in high school but it definitely felt way better to be surrounded by supes, not just humans who constantly pushed you away because you were ‘different’. A plus was definitely being in the top 10, which meant you had extra privileges the other students didn’t have. One was your friend group.

You first met Luke in the first week of school. You were both taking the same mandatory intro to marketing seminar and were paired up together to make a sales pitch for a product that could combine both of your powers. God, that day was almost as vivid as if you were living it right now.

“Hi.” You jumped slightly and looked up from your notes to see a tall blonde guy standing in front of your spot. 

“Uh hi.”

“You want to be my partner?” You scanned the room and saw that everyone had already paired up.

“Sure, I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Luke.” He was about to set down his bag when he realized the mess that surrounded you was going to make that difficult.

“Right, shit. Let me get this out of the way.” You quickly took all the multicolored folders from the spot next to you and shoved them into your bag, Luke pulled out the chair and sat down next to you before pulling out a notebook.

“Why the fuck do you have so many folders?” Luke said as he watched you struggle to organize them in alphabetical order.

“This class is bullshit so I mostly spend time catching up on outside projects.” You say as you are finally able to fix all your folders and turn towards Luke who has an incredulous look on his face.

“Jesus, I guess I picked the right partner then.”

“Oh don’t count on me doing all the work.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” He said with a smirk before he started to rattle off ideas of what your pitch could be.

From that moment on you two had become instant friends, eventually your little group expanded to include Luke’s girlfriend, Cate, who was probably the nicest person you had ever met. Then Andre, a legacy who didn’t actually act like it. Jordan was the last to join and all of it happened during one of your many sparring sessions with Luke.

“Ok come on you have got to be cheating!” Luke complained as you once again pinned him down on the soft mat. Your little spar was gathering some attention because the boxing ring was now crowded with supes holding up phones.

“Nope. I’m just better than you. Oh shit.” Luke took advantage of your distraction to grab your shoulder and flip you around so you landed hard against the mat.

“I win.”

“Fuck you.” You bit out before you used your powers to wrap and twist shadows around Luke’s wrists so he tumbled down next to you.

“Ok now that’s cheating.”

“We never said no powers.”

“It’s an unspoken rule!” Luke exclaimed but he had a big smile on his face as you offered a hand to him after jumping up from your own spot.

“Truce?”

“Truce.” Luke said as he smirked and grabbed your arm, allowing you to pull him up. The crowd around the ring started dispersing as you climbed out through the ropes.

“That was pretty fucking badass.” Came a voice from one of the few remaining spectators, you expected their voice to be focused on Luke but their intense stare was pinned on you.

“Why thank you. Luke’s an easy one to beat.”

“Hey!” Luke exclaimed in indignation as he jumped down next to you and threw you one of the spare water bottles he had. You grabbed it with one of your shadows and screwed open the cap.

“I’m Jordan.”

“Nice to meet you Jordan, I’m Y/N and this is Luke as you already know.”

“Hey.” Luke said as he did some kind of military salute.

“So what are your powers?” You asked when suddenly Jordan shifted in front of you. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah…”

“That’s fucking awesome.” Luke said as he finished taking a long drag of the water bottle.

“If you’re ever up for a spar come find me.” You said as you checked the time on your phone and realized you were going to be late for class. “We have to go but it was great to meet you Jordan.”

“You too.” They said with a smile as you and Luke grabbed your bags from the floor. You waved as you went your separate ways.

“Someone has a crushhhh.” Luke said with a sing-song voice when he realized you were still staring at Jordan’s retreating back.

“Fuck off.” You said as you slapped his shoulder, making a booming laugh explode out of Luke.

Somehow you had managed to keep your crush on Jordan secret when you all reached junior year. Luke was the only one who knew and he constantly teased you about the situation, any time you stumbled over your words or got flustered in front of them. It just seemed harder and harder over the years to actually confess to Jordan. They had gotten so damn confident and like a thousand times more attractive - which is something you didn’t think was possible.

Everything sort of started to fall apart in your life the first days of junior year. It was like the universe decided to throw a wrench in your stableish life. Incident 1: Andre nearly kills a woman in the club you like to frequent. Incident 2: Luke’s nightmares get worse and he keeps having to bunk in your room because for some fucking reason he’s getting suspicious of Cate. Incident 3: Jordan is making heart eyes to someone who is not you. (not that you don’t like Marie but that was the problem, she was too damn perfect) Incident 4: Luke kills himself…

It was like your world was torn apart in the space of half an hour. Your best friend, who you considered a platonic soulmate and brother, killed Brink and then himself right in front of you. The last thing you said to him was that you loved him. Right after he hugged you as tight as humanly possible before flying off to his doom. He was fucking Icarus in that moment.

Incident 5: Luke has a brother, who’s somehow stuck in a fucking underground experimental facility in the school. Incident 6: Brink’s memorial gala…

You carefully adjusted the all-black suit embroidered with shiny black vines that you had gotten in preparation for Luke’s birthday… something that wasn’t even going to happen this year or any year for that matter. Fuck, not the time to cry. You mentally chidded yourself before assessing your look one last time in the mirror before making your way out of your dorm.

You really fucking hoped you wouldn’t run into Jordan tonight. It was getting harder to be around them… every time you saw them, they either started ranting about why Marie was around so much (you almost hoped they actually hated her for a second there but there was a certain spark in Jordan’s eyes whenever they spoke about Marie) or well yeah more complaining about Marie.

You had taken to spending more time alone, you still had a bad feeling about Cate and Andre spent most of his time with Cate so that left alone time as your only option. It had started taking a toll on you though. Mourning wasn’t exactly your strong suit. 

You stepped into the decorated hall and cringed at all the posters with Brink. You knew he was a good man but… Luke wasn’t fucking crazy. You had been trying to help him for months, he had a reason to do it and you were going to try to find his brother… as soon as this damn gala was over.

You picked one of the champagnes off of a random waiter’s tray and quirked your lips up. Time to put on a real fucking show.

The next hour was spent mingling and chatting up potential sponsors. They all seemed hesitant to even speak to you because they knew how close you and Luke were but you reassured them that it was nothing to worry about. The Vought PR lines left a sour taste in your mouth that by the end of the hour you were itching for something stronger than champagne.

Once you were sure that the bartender was looking the other way you extended one of your shadows and snatched up one of the good whiskey bottles off the shelf and into your hand. You fucking loved your powers so much sometimes. Happy with your little prize a genuine smile made its way onto your face. Only to fall when you saw Jordan directly talking to Marie. They were smiling softly at each other, making a knot form in your stomach.

You hadn’t cried since Luke. All that had managed to come out of your eyes was a single measly fucking tear right before blood rained down from the heavens. But it seemed like Jordan’s moment with Marie was your fucking breaking point.

A sob threatened to force its way out of your throat as you hurried towards one of the alcoves that you knew this damn place had. What you didn’t notice was the way a pair of brown eyes followed your rushed movements. The second you were cocooned in your shadows was the moment that the tears slowed and a hiccup left your throat.

Safe. Safe. Safe.

“Y/N? Look I know you’re in there. I know your shadows when I see them.” The distinct voice of Jordan Li permeated your little hideout, disturbing the peace that you had somehow been able to culminate.

“Fuck off.” You said in a strained tone, tears were threatening to force their way out of your eyes once more so you opened the bottle and took a long swig of burning whisky.

“Y/N… is this about Luke? Shit- I haven’t even talked to you- I’m so sorry.” Those last few words made the stupid little resolve you had left deplete so you waved your hand and the shadows parted like curtains exposing Jordan’s ethereal face which looked incredibly apologetic. She climbed into your alcove as you closed the shadows back up.

“It’s fine, Jord. You had your own shit to deal with.”

“No, it’s not fine. You- you’ve been listening to me rant about Marie and I didn’t even ask if you were okay. I’m a shitty friend.” A resounding pang echoed through your heart at the word friend. Fuck. Another swig of the fancy whiskey.

“It’s not about that Jord, I’m really fine.”

“You’re drinking whiskey… you only do that when you’re stressed and/or depressed.” It almost hurts to realize how much Jordan actually knows you.

“It’s not that Jordan.”

“Then what is it?!” Jordan almost yells, probably exasperated by your perceived stubbornness.

“I fucking like you okay? I’ve been in love with you for fucking I don’t know how long. So can you please just fuck off and leave me alone.” You yelled out, only realizing after you finished speaking what you had just said. Oh. Oh no. A familiar panic started to seize your chest. Shit, they were going to reject you. Shit. Shit. Shit. You could almost feel yourself drifting off to join your shadows when warm hands gently got a hold of you.

“Y/N, Y/N. Listen to me, you have to breathe. You have to breathe with me. Come on. No passing out on me tonight. You didn’t even hear what I was going to say. Hey.” Your breathing started to slow down as you listened to Jordan’s calming voice. They were slowly bringing you back to earth as their hands rubbed against the material of the suit, creating a calming pressure. 

“Sorry about that.” When Jordan realized I was calming down I saw a quirk of a smile appear on their face, her eyes twinkled in the dark with an intensity I had gotten familiar with over the years.

“You don’t have to be sorry at all. You get those often?”

“More now than before. I’m really fucking sorry, let’s just forget I sa-”

“No, nope. No take backsies. How the fuck did you think I didn’t like you, no wait sorry, love you back?”

“I-umm” You stuttered out as you looked at Jordan in awe. They loved you back. Holy fucking shit.

“Who came up to who first? I’ve wanted to ask you out on a date for years.”

“And why didn’t you?” You said as Jordan smirked at your renewed confidence.

“Because you are wayyy out of my league. I mean you are like the most incredible being to grace the Earth.”

“Ok now you’re exaggerating things, Jord.”

“No I’m not. I can’t believe you didn’t realize I wasn’t totally gone for you before.” You let the giddy feeling of love spread through your extremities when a realization made you stop short.

“What about Marie?”

“Marie? What are you talking about?”

“You’re like-” You made wavy motions with your hands that had Jordan’s laugh resonating against the shadows, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you watched them.

“Oh fuck, you are too funny, love. No, me and Marie are not-” Jordan repeated the wavy motions you had just done which made you smack her playfully. The movement had you shuffling closer to Jordan so now your faces seemed like they were only millimeters apart.

“Fuck.” You uttered under your breath as your nose skimmed against Jordan’s.

“Fuck is right. Can I- I umm really want to kiss you right now.”

“What are you waiting for?” You answered just as Jordan surged forward and your lips met in an explosion of sensations. You felt your shadows jump and play around you excitedly as you pulled Jordan impossibly closer by threading your fingers in their oh so soft hair. That decision rewarded you with a little whine from Jordan that had warmth spreading over your body once again.

Reluctantly pulling away you rested your forehead against Jordan’s as they smiled giddily up at you. Her eyes sparkled in the darkness and you smoothed the pads of your fingers against their cheek.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I really fucking love you.” You said as you looked into those brown eyes that looked just like the perfect cup of coffee. Inviting, warm and absolutely enthralling.

“I love you more.” 

“Always a competition with you Jordan.” You said with a chuckle, making Jordan laugh in response.

“Well you should have known what you were signing on for when you fell in love with me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

so... reader's powers in this one are known as darkness manipulation which are sort of like the darkling's powers from shadow & bone (they're suit for the gala is literally directly inspired by the darkling's kefta lol) also here's the link to the superpower wiki page if anyone's interested.

[star-girl-05]

Mornin'

James Wilson x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

Wilson has always been a morning person. Waking up over an hour early so he can have a calm morning before work. You on the other hand are always snoozing your seven alarms before finally rolling out of bed and rushing to get to work. It doesn’t matter if you go to bed early the night before your just not made for mornings. Its a fact you’ve grown accustomed to.However now that your dating early riser Wilson your trying to change your ways. The task is proving harder than you originally thought. 

The last three days you’ve been dragging yourself away from your bed at the hellish hour Wilson wakes up. Your downing a gallon of caffine to off set your lack of sleep. It works well giving you that pep but you find yourself day dreaming about your bed. 

Its ironic the whole reason you wanted to start waking up early is so you could spend a few more minutes with Wilson. Just the two of you chatting while getting ready, it was going to be so nice. Now though your finding yourself resenting the dope. How can he just roll out of bed and look so absolutly breathe taking at FIVE in the morning. No one has any busniess looking that way at that TIME. Then theres the fact that he is so productive on only one cup of coffee at once again FIVE AM. Its absolutly not fair. 

“Honey its time to get up” you seriously can’t do this anymore. You lazily open your eyes finding wilson, the sight of his soft smile and lack of eye bags is your final straw. 

“I can’t do this anymore” your voice is thick in sleep, your eyes barely open. 

“What baby?”

“You, just looking at your face is making me sick” you tuck you head into the pillow trying to reclaim the sleep he just woke you from. While you try to let sleep take over you Wilson is starying down at you with the biggest eyes. He’s completly confused, did you just break up with him and then go back to sleep? Hes quickly shaking you again pulling you from your sleep again. 

“What did you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said, your face is making me want to vomit” your not understanding whats so hard to understand. 

“I’m- why are you mad?” he was so helplesly clueless at what was happening. If you wern’t so tired you would have noticed but right now your eyes are barely opened. 

“WHY AM I MAD? I’m tired” your voice comes out much more whiny than you intisapated. “Its not fair that you can wake up so early and be so productive. No one should be able to roll out of bed and look as good as you do.” he can’t help but smile his chest no longer filling with anxiety at the thought of you no longer loving him. He’s fianding this adorable. “I go to bed at the same time as you and still i wake up so tired, not to mention my black eye bags. All want is a few extra minutes with you but…” your words die out as tears stream down your face. 

He quick to wipe them away relaying soothing words, “Baby its okay, just breathe for me” You do your best, trying to listen to him. 

“I’m sorry I don’t know why I’m crying” 

“Don’t apologise” he moves back into bed slipping under the covers, wrapping his arms around you. Your quick to snuggle into his embrace, nuzzeling your head into his neck. Instantly being calmed down by his scent. “Why don’t we do this ever morning?” 

“What me having a breakdown?” his chuckle has you pulling him closer. 

“No, us cuddling I’ll wake you up and we can just cuddle for a few minutes. Then I can get up and you can go back to bed for a few minutes.” You just nodd, already finding yourself drifting off.

[i-magines]

Wildest Dreams: Chapter 2

Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6 | CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 8 | CHAPTER 10

synopsis: You’re an assistant director in an indie movie set and fate makes sure you keep crossing paths with a certain Chilean actor.  

disclaimer: This is my first Pedro Pascal’s fictional work + the first fanfic I write in English, as it isn’t my first language. Unfortunately, I do not own Pedro and this is all a product of my imagination.

rating: M (keep scrolling if your under 18 please)

warnings: age gap, mature content, fem!reader, drinking and mention of drugs, eventual smut but no actual smut so far, a bit slow burn but not really.  

word count: 1,803

You woke up next morning feeling tired and still a little bit overwhelmed. Pedro really was a gentleman and minded his own business, so did you. You’re not sure at what time he had woken up, but you could hear the shower running. You quickly changed into working clothes and went to have breakfast, trying to avoid any weird interactions with him. Again.

The hotel was very busy and the whole crew was meeting in the conference room. You got together with the directing team and briefly discussed your tasks for the day. You couldn’t help but watch Pedro closely as he joined the room, saying a happy good morning to everyone. He shaked hands with a few people and grabbed a cup of coffee. The producer asked everybody to be silent.

“Morning, everyone”, she started. “As I’m sure you’re all aware of already, we had a problem with the accommodation situation. Last night I tried to make some calls, but I do have to formally apologize to everybody, because I won’t be able to solve this.”

Everybody in the room just stared at her.

“There’s a conference happening in the city and the hotel fucked us over with overbooking and they got here first”, she explained, clearly a little mad. “If you have your schedule, you can check we’re only staying here for a couple more nights, so I would appreciate it if we could just make a team effort for now.”

She got a piece of paper and a pen. “If anybody wants to be rearranged with a different roommate, let me know.”

Pedro crossed eyes with you and offered a smile. You looked away, feeling shy. There was something about him that just made you feel like a scared little girl that needed to protect herself. You didn’t really see him much during the rest of the day. The schedule showed he was supposed to spend the whole day rehearsing and you were busy with other directing matters. You were very worried about doing a good job and it was starting to get to you. The director wasn’t a bad person, but you could see he didn’t have any time to lose. So you had to hold back your tears when he was a bit harsh after you got confused with the order of the scenes shooting. Once they let you know you were off duty, you walked straight to your room, feeling like shit.

As soon as the door closes behind you, you let out a deep breath. “Fuck me, man.”

“Won’t you pay me dinner first?” you heard a husky voice. It was Pedro, laying on the bed and browsing through his phone.

“Ha-ha”, you fake laughed. You stared at each other for a moment, before both of you let out a big, honest laugh. “As if, old man.”

He sat down, looking at you.

“What a first day, uh?”

“Don’t get me started” you replied as you threw your body on the chair. “Did you ask for a new room?”

“Trying’ to get rid of me, sweetheart?” He was being playful. You shaked your shoulders. “No, I didn’t. I’ll just go with it, if it’s okay with you.”

“Sure, you’re the star. Whatever goes by you, goes by me”, you gave him a soft smile. 

He seemed like such a down to Earth and nice guy, at the same time, he also knew all damn well how charming he was.

“Not trying to be a creep old man—”

“Oh God, what a way to start a sentence”, you both laughed.

“I’m going out to grab some drinks with some friends,” he said. “I was just wondering if you’d like to join us. Professionally speaking”.

You stopped to think. That is literally the main reason you accepted this job, to improve your networking in the industry. It’s all about that and the sooner you get your name going out there, the better gigs you would land in the future.

“You do know I’m literally nobody, right?” You stated, making him frown.

“I do know there are a lot of famous douche people out there, thinking they are crème de la crème”, he said. “Well, that’s not me. I have no fucking clue who you are, sweetheart, and I trully don’t give a shit about it. You seem like a cool, good girl. And if we are really doing this, you’ll have to drop it”.

“I’m sorry— I just had a tough start today”, you said, full of sincerity. “I always feel like I’m walking on a wire in this industry, it makes me anxious.”

“I totally get it”, he stared deep into your eyes. “I won’t lie, it’s tough. But I’m being 100% honest here, there’s people that are actually just really nice folks to have around and you seem like one of those”.

They sure knew how to have a good time in Berlin. You sneaked out of the hotel with Pedro and got a cab to what seemed like a pub on the ground floor and a nightclub underground. You joined a couple of friends of him, got some drinks and just talked for a couple of hours. His friends were super sweet with you and it was just great to hang out with people who already went through starting a career and all of that. They were all older than you and sometimes you would feel a bit out of place, but Pedro was making sure to keep you in the conversation at all times.

“I’m having a really great time”, you told Pedro once his friend went dancing. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“I’m glad you came”, he replied close to your ear, as he was resting one of his arms on your shoulders. “You good?”

“Pretty good, sir”, you gave him a smile. You were feeling a little tipsy from the alcohol, and you could see he was too. “Do you want to dance?”

“Sure, I’m going to get us some more drinks and I’ll meet you there”, he squeezed your arm briefly before moving away.

You went downstairs by yourself and the loud electronic music was everything you were able to hear. You tried to look for Pedro’s friends, but they weren’t anywhere to be found. As you were waiting for Pedro, a blond guy approached you, trying to get you to dance with him. He was about your own age, not bad looking at all, but you weren’t in the mood. At least not with him, you thought to yourself. He pulled his body closer to yours, holding your waist.

“Thanks. I’m waiting for my friend”, you let him know, trying to get away from his grip.

“C’mon baby”, he was way too close for your taste.

“I don’t want you to touch me” you pushed him away.

Before anyone could say or do anything else, Pedro appeared out of nowhere. He handed you your drink and took a sip of his own glass.

“Would you mind if I tell you to fuck off boy?” You have never seen that look of anger in Pedro’s eyes before.

“I didn’t know your daddy was here princess”, the blond guy looked at both of you. “It’s just a matter of taste, I guess.”

You opened your mouth to probably call him all names, but Pedro held your hand and pulled you to the middle of the dance floor. He held your body close to his.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have left you alone”, he whispers close to your ear. “What an asshole.”

“I really appreciate you standing up for me”, you whispered back, your lips touching his ear, causing him to get chills. You suddenly felt thirsty and drank your entire drink in one huge sip. “I couldn’t find your friends.”

“They left, I got their text when I was at the bar”, he looks deeply into your eyes. “Do you wanna head out too?”

“Sure.”

He held your hand as he guided you out of there. The air was a bit chilly, but the street was busy and full of people. He let go of you to light a cigar.

“Do you smoke?” He asked you.

“Smoke what?”

“Got it. Oh, you bad girl”, he laughs playfully. “You should’ve said something, I have some good stuff back in the hotel.”

You didn’t have time to reply as a group of girls recognized and approached him. You stood there for what felt like forever, while he was being the sweetest human being with his fans. Every couple of minutes, he would look at you, making sure you’re still waiting for him. You heard them inviting him to an after party, to what he politely said no.

“Would you mind getting us an Uber, sweetheart?” Pedro had to speak a little louder for you to hear him and you felt like everyone around him just stared at you. You just nodded. “Oh, guys, this is my colleague, Y/N. We’re working on a new project together.”

Colleague. You didn’t know why, but it felt weird for you to hear him referring to you like this. Is this strictly professional? For a second, back inside the club, you thought— well, never mind. You got an Uber and he said his goodbyes to his group of fans. You both sat in complete silence on the backseat of the car.

“What was fun, right?” He gave you a warm smile, placing his arm on your shoulder. “I can’t lie, I kinda love the recognition of the fans.”

You moved your head, affirmatively.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He sounded worried.

“Yes, just tired”, you said half-true.

Why the fuck were you upset he called you his college? That’s literally what you are. Sure you had flirted with him sometimes, but he did say this was a professional invite. You didn’t want to be that person who can’t just be treated with kindness without expecting anything else. Pedro was charming, good-looking and apparently an amazing friend and human being. Who also happens to be almost double your age and hot as hell. You could only blame the alcohol in your body for making you think such things.

You got back to the hotel room, the dizziness at its full peak for both of you.

“I don’t think I’m capable of taking a shower in these conditions”, you said as you jumped in bed. Pedro laughed behind you, doing the same.

“You could use one, though”, he teased you. You gave his arm a light slap. “I’m keeping you real, sweetheart.”

“Fuck you, Pedro.”

“I’m too drunk to fuck anything to be honest”, you both laughed and the room went quiet for a couple of minutes.

“Guess it’s better this way”, you whispered, aware that he could hear it as well.

CHAPTER 3 AVALIABLE NOW

[moonlight-prose]

HURT

➝ 05. MIDNIGHT DOVE

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

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

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

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

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

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

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

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

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

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

And in doing so, he saved you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It paid the bills.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel? Did I say something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which ultimately made the decision for you.

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

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

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

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

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

A past that you’d never fully know.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Darlin’—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It ain’t nothin’.”

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

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

He sighed. “We keep going.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

It was from her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which meant he had full intentions of coming back.

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

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

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

“Breakfast?” he asked, crouching beside you.

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

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

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

“Soon as we’re done here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A house huh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing good ever stuck.

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

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

That alone was something you couldn't risk.

"Follow your lead."

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

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

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

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

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

"No reason for activity then?"

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

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

"Better than nothing."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What you needed to sustain you.

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

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

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

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

"Sounds 'bout right."

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

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

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

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

"Then tell me about him."

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

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

Least of all Joel.

"He was in the army."

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

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

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

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

"He's younger than you?"

Joel nodded. "By a few years."

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

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

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

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

“I had to be.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A promise already embedded too deep to remove.

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

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

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

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

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

Pure broken love.

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

You grinned, moving closer. “Not really.”

“We got a few more hours.”

Perfect.

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

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

Silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you know where we’re going?”

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

“I’ve got an idea.”

You scoffed. “That’s helpful.”

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

“It’s kind of late for that…Texas.”

“No shit.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you remember what it was like?”

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

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

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

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

“Hotel?”

He nodded. “Expensive as shit.”

“That tracks.”

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

“Did you…want to go with him?”

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not true.”

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

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

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

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

“And you’d say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel—”

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

“What is it?”

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

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

“We’re here.”

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

“Turn around.”

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

The final destination in the path of your old future.

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

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

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

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

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

“Probably not.”

“So we could die?”

“There’s a good chance.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You came alive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Allegory of the Planets and Continents.”

“Allegory huh?”

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

“I can’t say I’ve heard of him.”

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

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

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

“And them?”

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

“Seems like a lot of work for a God.”

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

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

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

He nodded. “Go out the way we came.”

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

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

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

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

To make a home with history.

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

“I know. My feet just…”

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

“Joel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But life nonetheless.

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

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

Why the fuck did you hesitate?

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

One sole purpose.

Infect.

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

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

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

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

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

“Boston!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How…” you breathed.

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

“Does it work?”

He shrugged. “Probably not.”

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

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

“I don’t know much about cars—”

“Lucky you got me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel?”

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

“Let’s get the fuck out of New York.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good enough for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He gave you time to look.

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

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

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

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

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

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

To cut off the air he exhaled into your lungs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was he enough?

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

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

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

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

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

Neither of you cared.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seems like I might.”

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

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

Permanent and without shame.

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

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

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

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

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

The one thing that seemed to catch his attention.

“What was that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not a ring—”

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

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

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

[salty-croissants]

hey there! May i request Bullfrog x reader who loves skincare/spa days and tries to drag Bullfrog into their beauty shenanigans? I bet they’d vibe in a mud bath suuuper well.

Thank you for the request ! 

I must admit this one was a bit challenging since I don’t really know much about the subject , I hope this still turned out okay ! 

Details : use of gender neutral reader ; 

established relationships ; 

no warnings needed 

Bullfrog has a very open mind when it comes to your interests , so he will absolutely indulge you in your passion for skin care routines .

He may not be an expert on the subject , but he’s definitely more than willing to learn : as long as it makes you happy , he’ll be happy as well . 

He is honestly amazed at how much you know about the topic …

The way you enthusiastically talk about the pros and cons of hundreds of products at once is something that never fails to bring a smile on his face .

< Incroyable … ! I had no idea that was even a thing ! > 

< I know I know - it’s not something that gets talked about often , but it’s actually a really neat way of always making sure that no impurities get left on the skin , and thus … > 

Bullfrog loves how passionate you are … it’s something he deeply admires and makes him love you even more than he already does ://) 

One thing that Bullfrog adores with all his heart ? 

The mornings where the two of you have some more time on your hands and you get to do his eyeliner :

it’s a very intimate and relaxing time for him , one where he truly feels safe … plus since you know so much about what products to use you always pick the best ones for him .

< Aaand done ! You look beautiful sweetheart ! > 

< Heh … merci , mon amour ~ > 

This doesn’t happen too often , given how busy you both are with missions and assignments , but for special occasions the two of you love to spend the day at your favorite spa , just having a moment to forget about all your worries while enjoying each other’s company … 

After you introduced him to all the things one can do there , Bullfrog became quite a big fan of the place , and he’s always so happy whenever you come up to him to say that you have a surprise planned for him , only to bring him to the spa for a few nice , relaxing hours together .

Among all the activities at the spa mud baths are a big favorite for the both of you , and when you’re laying there in the pleasant warmth , snuggled close to each other while finally being able to get your mind off of everything going on outside …

It’s something that you and Bullfrog will treasure forever . 

Plus , I like to imagine that when he gets all relaxed , maybe a little sleepy as well , he just starts mumbling sweet nothings at you in French , and weather you’re able to understand what they mean or not it never fails to make you blush …

< Mm … je t'aime tellement y/n , you know … ? 

Tu es tout pour moi … ~ > 

[peachoni]

Part of the family

⏤ an: Idk about anyone else BUT Wayne really stuck out to me in season 4. Like I feel like he would be such a sweetheart to Eddie's s/o :3 I’M NEW TO WRITING PLS BE NICE :D

⏤ warnings n' stuff : Fluff, father figure(reader has absent father) Wayne/Wayne just being amazing, make out sesh ig

⏤ pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

⏤ wordcount: 948

You adored Wayne. You were pretty nervous to meet him at first but over the 2 years you've been with Eddie, you've gotten very close to Wayne. Like Eddie, Wayne would always be the first person to call if you were in a pinch. This particular day ways like any other Friday. You going over to Eddie's trailer and spending the weekend there. You had a key to the trailer so you unlocked the door and smiled once your gaze met Wayne who was sitting on the couch eating his dinner as he prepared for his shift at the plant. "Hey Wayne!" you said happily as you walked to Eddie's room to set all your things down before heading back to him.

"Hey hun. Good day today?" he greeted and you nodded. "Yep! I passed that test I was talking to you about a few days ago." you beamed and he smiled, a small chuckle coming from him.

"See I told you. You needn't worry about it. You're a smart girl and can do anything you put your mind to." he replied which made you smile. "Eddie could take a few pointers from you." he joked before shaking his head.

"Mmm he is trying his best. He actually listens to me when I can tell he is struggling with homework. Soooo that's progress." you replied which made Wayne laugh a little.

The both of you talked about school, your plans after you graduated and minor issues at home, not that there was many but just a few things that were bugging you. Wayne as always assuring you it would all be okay and giving you the best advice he possibly could. Then the question came about. "Wayne... has Eddie ever... talked to you about his and I's future?" you asked vaguely, knowing Wayne would understand what you were asking. "Well uhh. Eddie.. He ain't to open about things of that nature. But just looking at my nephew and how he is around you, I already consider you a part of the family. Eddie may not properly ask for maybe another year but believe you me, he will do it when he thinks you are both ready." he explained to you and you felt tears forming in your eyes before placing your face in your hands.

You were quiet for a few moments before placing your hands down, staring at his ring that used to adorn his right ring finger, which was now on yours. "Thank you Wayne, I really needed to hear that." you said before clearing your throat and walking to Eddie's bedroom. ‘Part of the family....’ you whispered to yourself with a smile.

The end of Eddie's beloved D&D campaign was after school. You swore he loved that campaign more than you sometimes. But you loved seeing him so happy so it didn’t bother you how much time he focused on it. You had a lot of homework to get done so you were a bit grateful that it happened this way. With Eddie here, you wouldn’t be able to get anything done. Eddie being your only distraction from getting anything productive done. So you sat at the small table next to the kitchen as you worked, indulging in conversation with Wayne every now and then.

A few hours went by and you heard Eddie's van pulling into the dirt road, the loud music blasting spoiling any surprise of him arriving. Eddie walked in and he smiled as his eyes met yours. "Hey" you said softly and he wrapped is arms around your waist before hugging you. It felt so safe. Perfect. Eddie pulled himself away from you a bit before waving to Wayne and he got a soft nod in response. Eddie grabbed your hand and he pulled you to his room with him. You laid in the bed beside him, Eddie unable to keep his hands off you after not seeing you since lunch at school earlier in the day. You asked him about how his campaign went and he went on a full on theatrical explanation of the events that unfolded just a few hours previous.

Eddie hummed softly as he played with your hair, causing you to look up at him. Before you knew it, both of your lips were connected. Eddie's hands exploring your clothed body as the kiss got more heated. You soon pulled away for air and looked into Eddie's eyes. "E-Eddie- Wayne is still here.." you whispered and he laughed a little. "Mmm then maybe... We just have to be quiet" he said back before rolling on top of you. He leaned down to kiss your neck, your hands instinctively going into his hair. He laughed softly as one of his hands slid under your shirt, kneading your skin before you heard a knock at the door.

Before you could push Eddie off of you, Wayne had already entered and you looked anywhere but at him. He threw something to Eddie but you were too embarrassed to even see what it was. "I'm headed out. Keep that handy. I ain't tryin' to raise another kid now." he said before walking out.

You turned around and you could have screamed into the pillow. Soon turning around to meet Eddie's more than amused face, shocked to see him laughing. "See! I told you that was going to happen!" you yelled but in a hushed tone before punching Eddie's shoulder. "God you are so unbelievable!!" you whined before Eddie wrapped his arms around you, rendering you immobile. "Aww come now y/n. You know you love me." he said before peppering kisses all over your face. "You are going to be the death of me Eddie Munson." you said before leaning into his touch.

[strwberri-milk]

Hi there! ^^ Can I request Zhongli/Kaeya/Dainsleif (separately) x artist reader headcanons? I’m not sure if it was once requested, if so just ignore it

Also if it’s too much characters just pick two

Zhongli is appreciative of basically anything. He loves to learn, and also loves to give his knowledge to people. One thing he hasn't done for a while is draw or paint. He's just never really had the time to explore the field, but he does love watching people paint or trying to figure out what the image is trying to convey.

He happened to come into your studio one day, planning to drop something off for you. You'd never really invited him in as you never found a reason to and he never pried into this part of your life. He felt that you'd let him in when you were ready.

When he knocks on the door you quickly run over to let him in, smiling brightly despite the paint that stained your face. He comes inside, trailing after you as he drops off the supplies he noticed you forgot in the morning. You thank him with a kiss on the cheek and get yourself set up again with the supplies you were missing.

He finds a seat you leave for models when you require one, curiously glancing around at your works. When you ask him what he's looking at he starts to point at specific ones and ask you questions about your process and inspiration. You find yourself talking incredibly animatedly about your process, not even noticing the enamoured look in his eyes as you talk at him. He's making mental notes to see if it'll help him plan out future gifts to buy you.

Dainsleif travels a lot, so he definitely sees very many scenic landscapes. With the creation of Kameras he was able to record them and bring them back to you to see, something you really appreciated. You don't think you'll ever be able to see the sights he does, so being given the photos whenever he returns is something you always look forward to.

He's known that you create for a living, almost wishing that he could settle down and do something so human. Spending his days creating might be something he could find himself enjoying, but he's got a responsibility to maintain.

One day, you take out a sketchbook that looks a little bigger than he would expect it to. It was almost the size of you and before he can ask you what's in it you start flipping through the pages, showing him some of drawings you did of the photos he gave you. Each of them has something he distinctly doesn't remember photographing, focusing more on them as each drawing continues to host them.

Finally, he realises that it's the two of you. Every iteration he's holding you, and the two of you are just enjoying each other's company. He gets a slight pang in his chest at the thought that you miss him so much you resort to drawing him, but he also can't help admiring the way you draw him. The way you see him is so sweet, Dainsleif melting a little.

He loves your works a lot, and asked if he could have some smaller prints to carry around. They help remind him that there's someone waiting for him to come home, folding the sheets of canvas carefully to avoid their ruin during fights or perilous conditions.

Kaeya is a little annoying but in the most endearing way. He loves seeing you draw, or looking at the finished products if you don't like having someone watch your creation process. He does get a little antsy if he can't watch, but he's very good at giving you your space and being ready to wait for the final product.

He's your biggest fan, proudly displaying your drawings around his office. Whenever people ask him who made them he always directs them to you, recommending that if they've ever wanted to get some artwork done you're genuinely one of the best people to consult.

Your confidence is really bolstered thanks to his constant praise and support, feeling better to experiment or create things you normally wouldn't. It leads to your portfolio diversifying wildly and you loved it all. Of course you still had your favourite way to paint but that doesn't mean you didn't like the experimentation part of it.

Sometimes, you like to ask Kaeya to model for you. He's great at doing so, totally working his angles and giving you looks that make your heart melt. It can be a little distracting at times but it's all worth it whenever you see the soft look he gets in his eyes when you show him the finished product.

He loves seeing himself through your eyes. You always draw him in such an ethereal manner, almost unrecognisable to him at times but he knows that it's him because whenever you draw him your pieces always take on a different quality. He can feel the love you have for him, and he won't admit it but he keeps every single rough draft you give him of him. They all remind him that you love him, and when he's having a really bad day just a glance at them can make it all better.

[loveandmurders]

Hello! May I request a Thomas Hewitt x reader? His S/O is pretty much harmless and hides away when there are new "visitors" around so as not to hinder his work, but there comes a time when one of the victims is being pretty stubborn to the point that they are hurting Thomas badly. His S/O grabs anything they can use as a weapon and accidentally kills them but their first reaction after they stop moving is checking if Thomas is okay? Sorry if it's too long and thank you!

Hello darling! Thank you a lot for this request, I was really happy to write for my big baby (who also deserves to be protected and loved) <3 Hope you'll enjoy this! Btw this is a g/n reader without any kind of description (Mama just calls you "sweet pea" once + it is implies that Thomas is bigger than you).

NO ONE HURT MY HUSBAND

Warnings: one or two strong words, Tommy is injured (nothing too bad), mentions of murders and cannibalism, blood.

When you woke up this morning, you felt like something wrong was going to happen. Sometimes your instinct was warning you, and you would be a little bit nauseous and uneasy. You knew it was about your husband, you could swear he was going to get hurt today, and the thought was only making you sicker. You needed your Thomas to be well and happy. He was all that mattered in your life. That was why, this morning, you needed to stay in bed with your husband and cuddle with him; at least you were both safe there. You even coax him with tender kisses for him to stay a little bit longer by your side. Even though Hoyt was calling for him, your gentle giant was too in love with you to hear the man screaming his name. His arms were tightly wrapped around your body as you cuddled him and murmured sweet nothings against his lips. His eyes were bright with happiness as he softly worshipped you with caresses and kisses of his own. He seemed very relaxed then and you were certain you could have convinced him to stay there all day if Mama hadn’t knocked at your door. You had pouted when Thomas got up and he gave you an apologetic glance. He didn’t like to not be able to give you what you wanted. And he didn’t like the idea you wouldn’t be able to spend more time with him until the end of his day of work. 

Hoyt heard there was a festival not so far away from here, and it was certain Thomas and he would be busy with visitors. And despite your love for Thomas and his family, you hated the killing. It meant you prefered to hide away in your shared bedroom than meeting one of your soon to be meals. You didn’t mind eating people, it was more the whole killing process that was bothering you. You didn’t like screams and fights. You were of a peaceful nature and it was probably why your presence was so soothing and so calming for Thomas. You were trying to tell yourself that, at least, the family would have enough to eat for a while and the meat factory would be more productive. You still didn’t like it and you just wanted your husband to cuddle and make love with you. You were quite a simple creature and that was why the family loved you as well, even though you were useless with the killings.

You helped Luda Mae with the house today, until you heard the voices of young people trying to negotiate with Hoyt. They were terrified and one of them was already bleeding a lot from what you could see from the kitchen window. They were three, but Thomas wasn’t around and you imagined he was dealing with more tourists. You didn’t like it at all, and you felt even more sicker than a few hours ago. You sent a pleading look to Mama who reassuringly smiled at you.

“Of course, sweet pea, go hide away. Thomas would go crazy if anything happened to you anyways, so it’s better that way” she said. You leaned to kiss her cheek, grateful she was being so good to you, before rushing upstairs.

You locked the door behind you and you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders. You tried to find something to do, in order to relax, but you couldn’t without Thomas by your side. You decided that a shower could do you some good and you got one. After it, you put on a shirt belonging to your husband and his scent washed over you. It brought you some much needed comfort. You cuddled in bed and closed your eyes. You silently prayed to God to protect your family. You weren’t certain God would protect people like you, but you thought it couldn’t do any harm to pray anyways.

You eventually fell asleep and when you cracked an eye open it was already late in the afternoon. You slowly got up from the bed, your head and eyes still heavy from sleep. You heard a soft knock at the door and you thought it might be what woke you up. You opened the door to find your husband standing in the doorway. He gave you a worried look and you reassured him with a smile.

“I’m fine, baby, just had a nap. You can go back to work” you told him. It was usual for him to go check on you to make sure you were fine. He was too scared to lose you because he wouldn’t have taken enough care of you. And in his eyes, you deserved the world.

He watched you for a little while before nodding. He leaned to press a soft kiss to your pretty mouth. You smiled even more against his lips before gently pushing him away.

“Be careful and come back to me as soon as you can, okay?” you asked and he nodded again. He stole another kiss from you, like the greedy puppy he truly was, before turning around. You watched him disappear and you tried to relax. You were happy he was alright, and you thought that maybe your instinct worried you for nothing this morning.

You decided to tidy up your shared bedroom as Thomas and you were sometimes too thrown away in your passion to realise some chores needed to be done. You always found clothes laying on the ground, but when you needed to feel each other's bodies, you discarded your clothing without any care. You were needy with him and he loved it very much.

You found some stuff to do around the bedroom and bathroom for a little while until you heard screams coming from the back garden. You felt your heart sink and you walked to the window in order to close the curtains. You didn’t want to see a tourist getting killed by your husband. You loved Thomas, but his strength could be scary, even for you. 

However, you weren’t ready for what you saw. You stopped moving when you noticed the tourist taking a knife and plunging it into Thomas’ side. Your eyes widened as you heard soft sounds of pain coming from your husband. Your blood ran cold and before you could even think about it, you were out of your shared bedroom. You ran downstairs, didn’t hear Mama calling for you with worry, and you simply grabbed a knife as you passed by her. You continued to run until you arrived in the garden. Thomas was on the ground, fighting the man off of him, but the pain wasn’t helping. The tourist was so full of adrenaline and of despair that he was being quite strong. He was about to strike another time when you jumped on him. He yelped in surprise and pain as you tackled him to the ground and started to punch him in the face. You were unable to think or to realise what you were doing. All you knew was that you needed to keep your love safe. You couldn’t let anything happen to him. The man pushed you and you fell from him. He was about to hurt you when you took the knife from your belt and hit him with it. You removed the knife without thinking and the man started to bleed a lot. He screamed like a slaughtered pig and you kicked him in the head.

The man was dead before you knew it. You didn’t even understand it. You were just happy he wasn’t screaming anymore and that he wasn’t trying to hurt Thomas anymore either. You were covered in his blood as you rushed to your lover’s side. He was a little bit groggy and wasn’t certain what just happened. You started to fuss around him to make sure he was alright, but he was bleeding too much, especially for your liking. At least, it was only one wound and Thomas was a strength of nature, so he would be all good in no time. At least you hoped, otherwise you would lose your sanity. But meanwhile, you needed to take care of him. You ripped your shirt so you could press it against his wound. You begged him to stay awake.

Hoyt ran to you after Luda Mae told him something must have happened. He was cursing when he saw the two of you. He didn’t show any emotions as he looked at the scene in front of him, quickly understanding what happened. He finally started to give the two of you rough orders and soon you were helping Hoyt with Thomas. Your gentle giant was trying his best to walk so his size and height wouldn’t hurt you or be too much, but you didn’t care. He finally reached the kitchen, that way Mama and you could take care of him. You sat him and gave him some water with painkillers.

“So you’re a killer now” Hoyt commented as he arched an eyebrow at you.

“What?” you asked, because you didn’t think the man was dead, even less that you killed him.

Thomas groaned before Hoyt could answer you and he sent him a threatening look. He didn’t want you to understand what happened. He was grateful you had saved him - even though it felt like a failure because it was his job to protect you. But at the same time, he wasn’t sure you would be able to handle the truth, especially after all the emotions you already went through. You looked up to give a glance at Hoyt but the man had left before Thomas could jump on him. You looked back at your husband but before you could say anything Luda Mae asked you for more bandages. She was aware her son wanted to protect you from the truth a little longer, and she was glad to help.

You quickly got up and you found what you needed. You stopped by the living room window and saw that the tourist who attacked Thomas was still lying on the ground. He was silent too, which was surprising, but he might just be unconscious. You silently went back to Thomas and Mama and you finished taking care of him.

You both went back into your shared bedroom and you helped him to settle on the bed. He needed some rest. You sat next to him but he gently tugged on your arm for you to lay down beside him. He needed you close to him, as you were the only thing who could give him comfort. You obeyed and cuddled on his unharmed side and nuzzled into his neck.

“Don’t ever do that to me again” you whispered and he nodded. You looked back at him. “You promise, right? You don’t let anyone touch you ever again, okay? No more games, no matter what Hoyt wants. You just kill them as fast as you can. This can’t happen again.” you started to babble as you cupped Thomas’ face into your hands. “You know I love you, don’t you? You know that I need you to come back home to me everyday or I would go crazy. I would burn the whole world down for you” you told him with an intensity you never had before. You could tell Thomas was surprised as his eyes widened, before he started to blush and to be all flustered. You were giving him little butterflies in his stomach. He nodded again, with heart eyes. He would obey anything you would tell him, even more when it was because your love was so fierce for him. He hugged you against his chest before removing his mask. He started to pepper your face with soft kisses, to appease you but also to thank you for what you did today, and for loving him that much. He loved you too, more than anything. He wished he could give you another life, and to make it up to you, he was trying to be the best husband ever.

You suddenly realised you still had blood on you and you very softly moved from his embrace. He really didn’t like the loss of contact but you promised him it would be quick. You removed the t-shirt and you went into the bathroom to wash the blood you hadn’t removed before cleaning up Thomas earlier. You watched yourself in the mirror and you saw more blood on your face as well.

“Oh. I killed the man” you said to yourself in realisation, and you went back to Thomas. You watched him and he looked up at you with a frown.

“Does it change anything?” you asked him but he didn’t understand what you meant “I know you enjoyed the fact I wasn’t part of the killing… But I killed the man, right? I killed him” you repeated and you looked down. Thomas tried to sit up to reach for your hand but you stopped him before he could hurt himself. You sat beside him and he started to sign . You saved me.

“Yes but…”

You saved me.

You smiled at him before straddling him so you could have a better look at him. His hands were on your thighs now and he gently stroked your skin. “I would do anything for you” you told him and he smiled; he knew it.

It won’t happen again. Shouldn’t have happened. You shouldn’t have to protect me. I wouldn’t stand anything happening to you because of me.

“I don’t want this to ever happen again because I’ve never been so scared and concerned for you before, not because I shouldn’t protect you. I’m your partner, it’s also my job to take care of you.” you replied and you could tell Thomas wasn’t too happy about it. “You always protect me, it’s fine that I protected you for once” you added and Thomas tried to agree with that. “Plus, it would never be your fault if something happened to me.” you added but Thomas shook his head.

I’m your husband, he replied and you knew you couldn’t argue with his protectiveness so you didn’t say anything about it.

 “At least Hoyt won’t ever bother me again about it”

I’d kill him otherwise.

“Aren’t you romantic now?” you gently teased him before leaning in to kiss him, as his hands started to roam your body like they had to when the two of you were in bed.

[fxtalitygod]

VI. ~Survival~

Summary: You were determined to survive longer than anyone, even if you were set to marry him.

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, themes/depictions of horror, swearing/language, suggestive, mentions of child murder/adult murder, implied cannibalism, breastfeeding, pet names (Y/n called Little Flower 4-5x), Implications of child neglect, implied Stockholm Syndrome, images/depictions of dead bodies, slight misogynistic themes (if you squint).

Word Count: 4.9k

A/n: I apologize for being so late with this post... I was initially going to post this around Thanksgiving (practically on Thanksgiving day), but I decided to do a little revising. I finished this chapter on my flight though I was unhappy with the product, so I tweaked it a little. There were a few other factors, such as spending time with family, and I did happen to get sick while on my vacation; however, I am better and was finally able to finish this chapter. Chapter VII is already in the works and will be released sometime in early January, hopefully, sooner. I know I've been saying this for a while, but I'm still trying to figure out a posting schedule, but in the meantime, I will be posting when I can. Thank you all for being patient with me. It's greatly appreciated. This a friendly reminder that my asks are open. If you want to ask me any questions about this story/other works or to talk about hcs, suggestions, or to be added to the taglist for any of my series, have at it! Thank you for sticking around, and enjoy Part 6 of Survival!

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• Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt.III • Pt.IV • Pt.V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII •

You knew in your years of living that motherhood would never be easy, but taking care of the future heirs of a four-armed man practically considered a god was another story. You were restless, your stress and anxiety slowly creeping up on you. The worst part was that you had to keep those vulnerabilities concealed. Not once were you allowed to let a weakness slip, or else you and your children could end up being the next set of cold bodies on the record.

Today was especially no exception to those rules.

You sat in the garden with your twins, letting their beautiful giggles fill your ears. The wives that had begun to admire you gathered around the scene, cooing at how your baby boy and girl interacted with each other. This was something you had seen often with your babies. The two were inseparable as they were constantly interacting with each other, grabbing and laughing with each other, and overall enjoying their childhood innocence. The sight was almost able to make you forget the upcoming event today.

Inspection day.

It was a typical tradition among the mothers who lived in the temple. Sukuna would request all mothers and children to meet at the temple's main hall to inspect his sons and daughters. It was a way of seeing the progress of his kinder to pick out the most suitable heir among them.

Unfortunately, there were many situations where the father had decided it best for his weaker spawn to be taken out of the competition. It did not matter how old they were— if he saw that they were falling slightly behind the other children, he would not hesitate to end the child’s “miserable life,” as he deemed it.

You were no exception to this rule. No one was. The life of your twins could be ended with a simple wave of Ryomen Sukuna's hand, and you could not be more horrified by that fact. You tried to pride yourself in how you prepared your children for such days, but you could not help but worry. Your twins were strong and healthy, which was the only requirement for infants on inspection day, but as they mature, they must present more than general health. Hardly any of the children made it to their teenage years. None made it to adulthood.

"Is this not your twin's first inspection?"

The question pulled you out of your thoughts as you turned to look at one of the wives, an acquaintance of yours. It had been about a few months since you had given birth to your little miracles, and you could not be more content with the time you've been able to spend with them; however, it would be untruthful if you kept telling yourself that it wasn't taking a toll on you. You could admit that you had become more paranoid, causing harm to you both physically and mentally. There were days that you would hardly leave the nursery, trying to avoid others from seeing you in a disheveled state. Although, it was a rare occasion, meaning no one had any suspicions regarding your behavior.

"Indeed, but I am confident in my parenting," you responded in confidence.

You saw some eyes shine in admiration as you held your head high and proud, proving your current status among the other wives. Over the few months, you managed to convince the other wives that you were untouchable; however, that did not mean you didn’t receive loathing stares and comments. Most of those women had decided it best to keep a distance, waiting for you to slip up to take the higher ground, but it was proving difficult to be patient at that time.

You could feel the stares of the ones who were still waiting. You could already picture the snickers and smirks behind you, knowing that today could be one of your many possible slips. All that could be done was to pray; pray that everything would go according to plan.

Before you allowed your paranoia and anxiety to seep in more than you already had, you looked up to see servants pouring out into the garden, helping some mothers gather their children. One had attempted to approach you, but your attendant quickly hopped in, telling them she could aid you. The two of you gathered what little items you had brought and settled your children in your arms.

It did not take long for everybody in the garden to make their way to the main hall, where Sukuna awaited his next of kin. The crowd was suffocating, some women and even children being too close for comfort. You eventually found yourself in a line in front of the doors to the main hall. Hushed voices filled the room as the women started to converse. The conversations ranged from ones of concern, cockiness, and caution. No matter the topic, you could tell that the tension was increasing.

What went from whispers turned into boisterous discussions. It stayed that way for a while until the inspection began. The second those doors went ajar, the room went silent instantly. You could see how the simple action brought everyone slight fear. The children who were old enough to think were undoubtfully terrified of the occasion, having either been told the dangers of inspection day to prepare them or they had experienced the ritual and what it meant for them if they were to fail.

"The examinations shall begin!"

With that announcement from one of the distant servants, the line started to move forward. There was nothing but silence as the line advanced into the room. From what you knew, silence meant one of two things, dread or reassurance, and from what you could tell, the quiet was proving to be more of a relief. Unfortunately, the quietness did not last long.

"NOOOO!" you heard a woman cry, followed by the piercing scream of a child.

That was only the first of many screams you would hear that day. As you advanced toward the main hall, the shrill screams crescendoed. Some came from a mom, but most came from the youth. Most of your companions stayed in the room, while others left in a broken state or muttering in disappointment toward their deceased kid. No matter the result, you could only feel disdain.

Before you knew it, you were the next to approach your husband. You could see Sukuna sitting on his throne as he looked at one of his sons. The boy could have been no older than two or maybe even three years of age, hardly old enough to understand what was going on, but you could tell that this boy would not have a happy ending. You had spoken to his mother before, and based on what you had heard, the boy was lacking behind the others in his age group.

You remember sitting in the garden with your twins one day, feeding them as you watched the slightly older kids play; however, there happened to be one boy in particular that had caught your eye. He had been chasing around one of his siblings before he collapsed, coughing up blood not too long after tumbling. You knew that the child was your competition, but out of the goodness of your heart, you approached the struggling boy, managing to keep your children in place to not disturb them.

You found no need to ask if the boy was alright—blood splayed out in the grass served as enough proof that he was not. You rubbed his back as he was stuck in a coughing fit, blood spewing onto the grass.

You looked around for the boy's mother, only to see that no one around was interested in assisting the kid.

The child sat there with you for a few minutes before you saw a slightly older woman making her way toward you, a look of worry etched upon her face. She immediately ran up and hugged her son before thanking you profusely for caring for him despite having responsibilities with your own children. Despite not needing your assistance anymore, she remained, telling you of his illness. From what you gathered, he had developed the problem not too long after the inspection the previous year, causing him to fall behind the other children his age in their physical health, meaning it would be harder for him to develop his cursed energy.

As you stood there, hearing the incoherent voices of the child talking to his father, you focused your attention on his awaiting mother. She played with her fingers, bit her bottom lip, and let her eyes tremble as her anxiety began to kick in. A little part of you wanted to go in and comfort her, but you knew you could not, so you chose the second-best option. In slight haste, you whispered in your attendant's ear, asking her a simple request. She was only gone for a second before making her way back over to your side.

On the far left side of the room, where the mother had been standing, you saw a female servant approach. She tapped on the mother's shoulder, whispering in her ear before escorting her out of the room. Sukuna, despite being preoccupied with his determination for the boy, had taken notice of her leave. His gaze followed her path to exit the room as she let out a few sniffles, trying to hide her despair, as she knew her son's fate the moment they had walked into the room.

The conversation between Sukuna and the boy continued. You observed the scene, patiently waiting as you nurtured your twins. The wait repulsed you. The more Sukuna dragged out the conversation, the more the boy's symptoms started to show. Fortunately enough, the torture came to an end when the boy coughed up blood on his father.

You watched as Sukuna looked down at himself, seeing the splotches of blood on his skin. The fear in the kid's eyes was evident as they widened in absolute terror at what he had done. Despite being very young, the child knew that his father wasn't much of a forgiving person. It did not take long for the tears to well up and spill from his eyes. You tried to remind yourself that the competition was being eliminated, but your morals wouldn't allow you to suppress the sympathy you felt.

What came next, you could hardly watch. The boy, despite his horror, plastered a smile on his face as he apologized to his father. Sukuna only sighed as he looked up to meet the boy's eyes. You could hear the whispers behind you as mothers conversed with each other. Some were of pity, some were of fear, and others of relief.

As awful as it sounds, you felt it would be best for the boy. His condition wasn’t getting any better. To wait another year, with his fate practically predetermined, would have been torture. There was no doubt in your mind that by the following year, he would no longer be standing within the temple. Right now, you could tell he was at peace with his fate, the saddening smile proving you so.

The next few seconds were quick. Sukuna uttered one last statement before putting the child out of his misery. It was silent— there were no screams or pleas for mercy. All you could see was blood spilling down from where the boy once stood and a slight clinking noise as something had clearly fallen.

It did not take long to hear the shuffles of servants rushing to clean up the mess to avoid any “complications” regarding attachments. Any belongings of a deceased child were discarded immediately as Sukuna was advised that it would be easier for a mother to move on and procreate once more when they were not reminded of their dead offspring. In a way, this method proved to work sufficiently, especially with the women willing to keep Sukuna pleased or the more vulnerable women. It kept them obedient. It kept them distracted.

Sukuna watched as the help slowly and efficiently cleaned up the mess, but the second he looked up and laid eyes on your form, it was clear that the man was too eager to wait any longer. You could see the smirk on his face grow and the gleam in his eye. The gesture should have given you relief, but it made you apprehensive.

"Come forward, Little Flower," Sukuna announced.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as Sukuna beckoned to you. Despite your apprehension, you walked forward, keeping your head high to facade your uneasiness. As you approached your husband, you kicked an item, the clinking on the ground. You do not know what came over you at the moment, but some form of impulse caused you to slip the item into your shoe, hiding it underneath the sole of your foot.

In a matter of a few steps, you were standing before Sukuna. Unlike the other inspections performed, Sukuna was quick to stand, towering over your form. You could only stare into his eyes as he peered down at you, the grin on his face growing. Maybe it was due to the situation, but it was more unsettling than usual. Had he predetermined his decision? Was he going to take your children out of your care? The questions kept flooding your mind while keeping a straight face.

"You seem quite confident in yourself, Little Flower," Sukuna stated.

"I am as I believe I've shown enough skill in my ability to mother our infants," you responded, swallowing whatever anxieties you had.

The answer seemed to please Sukuna as he sat back down on his throne, grabbing your waist to stand between his legs. You knew he was teasing you at this point, trying to stir a reaction out of you, trying to rile you up. This was common for him to do with new moms. You did not know if it was for entertainment or a form of test, but it still made you uneasy either way.

"We shall see then, won't we?"

You watched as Sukuna went from looking into your eyes to looking at your twins. The babies were tucked snuggly in your arms, their heads turned into your chest to obtain warmth from your body. With one of his hands, Sukuna turned your son's head to achieve a better look, his teasing look turning into one of concentration. The two-faced man was gentle with his touches, something you had not known he was capable of, something you couldn't believe was in his nature.

He took his time, undoubtedly in no haste to proceed with the mandatory tradition. Just when you thought he had finished, anticipating him to pass your son back to you, he slithered one of his arms to take grasp of your daughter. You watched as the baby squirmed in his hold, attempting to shift into a comfortable position, letting out an occasional grunt as she did so.

Your heart was hammering against your ribs. Your chest started to develop a heave. Your hands began to grip the material of your kimono. You had never experienced fear as great as this.

"You never cease to amaze me, Y/n."

You almost sighed after hearing that glorious sentence, but you kept your poise as you bowed, ready to take your twins back into your arms. However, Sukuna never made it that easy for you. The four-armed man quickly pulled you onto his lap, handing your twins over as he plastered an all-too-familiar grin on his face. Before you could question his actions, Sukuna straightened his form, placing his back against his throne as he looked at the awaiting line of women and children.

"Listen well, women! This is where your standards should be. In a year of her time, Y/n has accomplished what the majority of you achieved in a decade here at the temple. She has even gone as far as surpassing you all. I suggest you all follow her example."

You didn't know how to feel about Sukuna's short speech. There was a chance that the man had placed a target on your back, but he could have also made you untouchable. His utterances of praise could be proved as both a curse and a blessing.

Once he had settled himself, you believed he would let you leave to inspect the next child— you were wrong. He held you in his lap and beckoned for the next mother to bring forth the child. He didn’t speak to you after that. He continued the rest of the inspection, caging you in a set of his arms.

To say you were horrified was an understatement.

What you had seen was gruesome and grotesque, but that isn’t what unsettled you. What truthfully left you distressed was your absence of physical and mental response. You were desensitized.

You watched as he slaughtered child by child. You felt his second mouth chew on the bones of his deceased kin. You heard the screams and cries of both women and children, some even calling to you to convince Sukuna to spare mercy. But no matter what, you felt absolutely nothing.

Had you really become that selfish?

You were always willing to get your hands dirty to keep yourself and your children alive, but you never imagined you’d have to shut down your humanity to achieve that; however, in a dog-eat-dog world, you would have to look out for number one.

So you sat there, watching body…

After body…

After body…

After body…

Stack up in the room without so much as a flinch. Not a word escaped your mouth, nor a yelp or gasp. You sat there motionless and silent as the chaos subdued into a conclusion. The dense silence was a dead sign that the event had ended.

You were shifted to sit between Sukuna’s legs, facing the mothers and children who had decided to wait in the room. You could see looks of great pride, looks of disappointment, and looks of grief. The sight alone could’ve made you cry, but you refused to let that happen.

There was no room for errors in your plan, such as letting your vulnerabilities show.

“What should I do with them?” Sukuna whispered in your ear discretely as he leaned down, almost making you jump.

“What do you mean?” You asked, trying to act oblivious to his question, although you knew fully what he meant.

“It’s relatively simple— should I spare their pitiful lives, or should I exterminate them? With what we created, there is no reason to keep them around; however, I leave that judgment entirely up to you.”

You could not help but widen your eyes. The power and jurisdiction Sukuna had given you were tempting and overwhelming. In a simple sentence, you could have the competition eliminated. Your mind was rushing with all the possibilities of your future if you went through with what Sukuna had offered. Knowing all the opportunities, you made your decision with ease.

"Spare them," you answered.

"What an interesting choice, Little Flower," Sukuna chuckled before sitting up straight, "Very well then."

Sukuna looked down at the forms in front of them, wearing a straight face as he examined each of their faces. With little to no expression on his face, Sukuna looked more fearsome. Nobody could tell what he was thinking or planning— any action that was to follow from his state of blankness would come unexpectedly.

"You should all be grateful to be standing here today. Unbeknownst to you, I just offered your companion a very tempting offer. However, she chose to spare your lives," Sukuna announced, "You should all be thankful."

You felt one of Sukuna's arms grab your waist, and you could feel his hand grasp your face as he pushed his cheek to yours. All eyes were now focused on you. Every movement was monitored and taken note of on both ends. If you were going to be truthful, you didn't know how to feel about the new-found attention— like you had mentioned earlier, Sukuna's praise was both a blessing and a curse.

You felt his Cheshire grin form as his face remained against yours. It was clear that he was pleased with what he had done. Whatever was brewing in his mind, you couldn't deduce, and quite frankly, you didn't want to. Even with your inquiries about the situation, you believed you would never follow up on them. Some questions were better unanswered.

"Ahem, Sukuna-sama, I believe it would be best to conclude this session," A person, whom you couldn't deduce whether they were a man or female, chimed.

You had seen this individual at the temple before, usually seeing him trail behind Sukuna. In many instances, you had assumed this person to be a personal servant to Sukuna, but if you were sincere, you thought they were more than that to the two-faced man. Possibly a close friend, sibling, or some sort of ally.

"I suppose you're right, Uraume," Sukuna sighed, straightening himself out again.

"This examination event is concluded. All of you may leave. Remember the words of caution I have so graciously given you. Dismissed!" The four-armed man announced, keeping his posture straight and intimidating.

With his confirmation, you stood, twins in your arms, making your way out of the room before you were yanked down into Sukuna's lap.

"Not you, Little Flower. I'm not finished with you yet."

At that instant, you didn't know what to think. Unlike the other moments you had been pulled aside, you did not feel anything. Your mind wasn't running with questions and fear— you were calm. If Sukuna had wanted to hurt you, he would have done it by now. If he found your children useless, he would have put them down the moment you approached him.

The room was empty and quiet as the two of you sat there, watching the last child leave. The silence encased the room after that. You made no effort to make eye contact, and neither did Sukuna. It was not out of fluster or fear but rather the peace in that silence. You couldn't remember the last time you had been left in a room where your mind wasn't running rapidly or where there wasn't some sort of commotion outside a set of doors.

"Walk with me," Sukuna blurted, allowing you to move out of his lap, babies settled in your arms.

You watched as your husband stood, motioning you to follow him as he made his way toward the main hall doors. It was quiet for most of the walk as he led you to who knows where. There was a moment you wanted to ask him about where he was taking you, but there was something about his blank expression that made you second guess yourself, deciding to continue trailing behind him until he released you to your duties; however, Sukuna took notice in your lagging behind, slowing down his pace while hovering one of his hands at your lower back to keep you from falling behind any further.

"We're here," the man announced suddenly, pulling you out of your own consciousness.

You watched as Sukuna opened a pair of grand doors, revealing a nursery; however it wasn't the nursery you were accustomed to. The room was relatively small compared to the other where you and the other mothers would care for your children, but it was size enough to fit at least a few groups of people.

"What is this? Are you relocating some of us?" you asked as you looked around the room.

"No, only these two. I believe they should be separate from the other offspring and their mother. They will be just fine with a wet nurse in the evenings."

The string you were working so hard to maintain snapped in that instant. You felt as if something overtook you, a shadow looming over you. The thought of you being isolated from your babies left you paranoid; moreover, the idea of a wet nurse taking care of them left you livid. No longer did you care if you upset Sukuna. He went beyond your line of patience when he suggested the concept of leaving your children in another's care.

“No.”

You swore that you saw all four of his eyes widen the slightest, and you were convinced that you even saw him smile a little, but with all the adrenaline from your sudden irritation may have easily made you see things. For a subtle instant, you wished you could have taken that singular word back, but the regret quickly flushed away as you remained glaring at your husband. This was the first time you had truly stood up against Sukuna, the man who was more than capable of wiping out a village in a matter of minutes— seconds if he pleased.

"disputing me? I have to be honest; I do not know how to feel about your sudden disobedience, but I'll entertain it. Why do you disagree with my plans?" Sukuna chuckled, inching himself closer to your straight form.

Selfishness.

"You know as well as I the betrayal and deception among the women in this temple; bribery, extortion, treachery, and other deceitful actions. I understand you are not a man of morals, but we can agree upon our children's interests. You said it yourself, they've been able to excel further than any of the other children, and I strongly believe that has been possible with my watchful eye and protection."

"You make a very fascinating argument, Little Flower. However, I still do not understand how this is beneficial if you do not tell me what you're proposing directly," Sukuna questioned.

You knew fully what he wanted to hear from you, and you were willing to give it to him. Though the words that would spill from your mouth would be distasteful, you had to come too far in the game to back out. The two cards you had set on the table were choosing between life and dignity— the choice was evident between the two.

Life.

"Sukuna, I beg of you. Please let the children stay with me until they are old enough to communicate their thoughts; this will benefit you. The time they spend with me will not be fruitless. I will educate them to the best of my ability, and when you deem them ready, they can begin whatever training you set out for them; however, during that time, I only have one request..." you paused, seeing if you should continue.

"And what would that be, Little Flower?"

"That you protect them with your life," you answered.

"And if I do not accept these terms," the man countered.

Your answer determined not just your life but your children's. You were starting to run out of cards to play, and you couldn't run out to get a new deck at the moment. With every option you looked at, there was risk involved, but all the safe options hardly guaranteed the future you were hoping for. It was a true gamble. So, in those last moments of desperation, you played your shot in the dark.

"Then I walk from this temple, twins in hand."

The silence felt like hours while, in reality, it was only a few seconds. In those few seconds of silence, you could not help but feel slight regret...who would not feel this remorse in your situation. Though you have faced life-or-death decisions in the past, this one way is by far the most alarming, and the stillness wasn't doing you any favors.

Then came the infamous chuckle, one of his more notable responses that could strike fear in the most powerful shaman.

“Seems that my Little Flower has grown some thorns, hasn’t she?”

You could only look at him as he approached, towering over you in his close proximity.

"Is this an attempt at proposing a deal, Y/n?"

Deal.

That word sent shivers down your spine, but not out of fear or disgust. It was a pleasant quiver. It wasn’t effortless to broker a deal with Sukuna, especially since you were merely another one of his, and as much as you hated to refer to yourself in such a degrading way, concubines. If it had been anyone else, you could guarantee that their head would be cut clean off by now, making it clear that you had something of value on the table to offer by the fact you hadn’t been decapitated at the moment.

“Yes,” you answered confidently.

“Straightforward as always, I see. I think that is what I love most about you. You never seem to dance around the question,” Sukuna quipped, looking down at you with a look you still could not deduce, “Fine, I’ll take you up on this deal, as it is of mutual interest, but I want something in return.”

You nodded, waiting to hear what he wanted to put on the table.

“I want your word that you never leave this temple unless it is under my supervision and say so. Unless I’m accompanying you outside those gates, you will remain here. Do we have a deal?”

Outings from the temple were usually uncommon, but they were on occasion, but only a select few would attend such expeditions. These women were commonly accompanied by a chaperone: maids, guards, gardeners, anyone from Sukuna’s staff but never Sukuna Ryomen himself. The man was not known for being someone to leave the temple for leisurely walks or to run a quick errand to the local market, meaning you would practically be bound to the temple for as long as he stayed in your village and bound by his side for as long as he or you lived.

This was your gamble.

Selling your life entirely over to Sukuna for the safety of your kin.

"Yes, we have a deal."

Taglist:

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya@pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident @fourcefulcupid @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia

[inbabylontheywept]

My thoughts on this are a little fuzzy, but it's a sort of AI-fucks-up-the-world scenario that I call The Cacaphony. And I just wanted to share what it could look like.

Imagine a world where the chatbots have gotten good enough that it takes 10 minutes for the average person to spot them. We're getting there already. Once that happens, companies and governments will start releasing instances of these things onto forums to try and push their products and ideologies.

Now imagine that these bots are cheap. Less than $500 a year kind of cheap. Suddenly, you're reaching into an online space where you know that humans are outnumbered.

What happens then? Do we see the rise of a twitter blue-checkmark system for every single social media site? Do we see large platforms break irreparably in favor of small isolated discord cliques?

I don't know. It fascinates me. I can see some sites that just absolutely would never be able to survive. Reddit and 4chan would be obliterated. Twitter would die unless it went back to its old blue checkmark system - and even then, the only people that would ever be taken seriously would be the blue checks. Even tumblr would find itself in a tough position. Imagine how many fewer people you would follow and reblog if you had to spend 10+ minutes checking them to make sure that they were absolutely a real person. Imagine a tumblr where self-doxing started to become the norm. There would be a set point where the site just crystallizes, and it would basically never recover from it.

It boggles me, to see companies that would get rekt by this scenario pouring money into making it happen. Twitter should not want The Cacaphony. Nor should Reddit. Nor should Google, if we're being honest. And yet each of them lines up to cheerfully sharpen the sword that will one day strike them down.

[not-poignant]

Do you have any advice on how to write more words on a regular basis? I find it difficult to write regularly but am fed up of only being able to produce sporadically in small amounts. Whenever I sit down to write it feels like I'm feeding gravel into a blender (if that even makes sense). I've tried getting advice from others and am told to just "stop trying to write then". But I can't because I want to write. Writing is all I ever think about. It feels like oxygen to me and when I'm not doing it (or thinking about doing it) I feel like I'm dying inside. But damn, I just wish it wasn't so difficult.

I really want to finish my stories and I know I could if I just wrote regularly but I don't know why that's so hard for me to do.

Hi anon!

I might have some thoughts on this because I certainly never used to write as much as I do now!

Firstly, I'll get this one out of the way now, if you have money to spend, join 4thewords - ignore this if you don't have it. But this gamifies writing in a genuinely fun way. Each monster you kill gives you loot, and fulfills quests that give you more loot, that opens more worlds and more options that give you clothing / house furniture and more. This was - given how much more productive it made me - a game changer re: writing more.

If you don't have money to spend, let's ignore that and go to other methods.

If you want to write more, the answer isn't to stop writing, it's to write more. The best time to hear 'it's time to stop writing' is if you're burnt out, or you hate everything about it. It sounds like you don't hate everything about it, you just wish it was a bit easier.

Decide what you want regularly to mean. I don't have a daily writing habit - I don't write every day! I'm too sick to, so i have a monthly minimum wordcount instead of a daily minimum wordcount and try and hit it by about week 2/3. Regularly for you might be once a day. Once every two days. Or it might be 'I have to write this many words a month.'

Find a way to track the words you're writing. The only way you can accurately see how much you're writing is by tracking those word-counts! Because you will have days where you feel like you wrote nothing and actually wrote a fair bit, and days where you feel like you wrote a fair bit and sadly wrote...hardly anything, lol. But it's also the best way to see yourself achieve more as you increase your wordcount.

Let's also talk about flow. Sometimes you don't get to feel 'flow' - that feeling of the words coming out easily onto the page, and you have to kind of struggle for every sentence. Are you okay with writing more knowing that this is actually normal for many writers, and the gravel blender feeling might not go away? It will over time get easier to write more words, but it might mean more of that gravel blender feeling. Flow is not predictable, and is often story and scene dependent. Chances are you will have more times feeling writing flow, I just want you to be honest with yourself in case it doesn't happen the way you wish.

From there, it's a combination of developing the discipline (which is like exercising a muscle - start small and grade upwards, don't aim too high at first, consistency is better than bursts), and finding the tricks that help you.

Look at how many words you think you could write a week. Let's lowball and say about 100 words a week. When you assess this for yourself, always undershoot, don't round up! 100 words is like... a long paragraph worth of words.

The following week, depending on if you want a daily / once every two days etc. habit, you'd aim to write 150 words that week. A paragraph and a half.

The week after you'd aim for 200 words.

You might find in week 2 it was easy to write 1000 words, great! But the week after you're still only aiming for 200 words. Don't base scaling up on the bursts / writing sprints - they'll lie to you. If you want consistent discipline, base your increases on the low days. If you reach a week where 200 words feels impossible, aim for 200 words the following week, if it's still impossible, go back to 150.

Now for you it might be... 500 words in week one, 600 in week two, 700 in week 3 etc. It might not seem like much, but you'd be surprised how quickly you start scaling through those numbers with practice.

Increasing writing output is a numbers game. And it's a patience game. And it's a 'being forgiving and gentle with yourself while also being a little bit stern with yourself' game.

Here's the thing no one tells you (except for NaNoWriMo every single year) re: increasing your wordcount.

Those words don't have to be good. They don't have to be good in fact it's better if they're not.

You're just getting used to the feeling of writing more. Not writing more good words, that will come naturally with time. You're getting used to sitting in front of a document for longer, thinking of more sentences you don't necessarily love (it's better if you don't! Write the bad ones!) And this is what I mean by it's a numbers game. Getting better at writing happens the more you do it anyway, so you can just focus on 40 bad sentences.

The trick to letting yourself write badly? That one is just...gritting your teeth and screaming through them while you go 'AHHHHH' in your head and let those suckers loose. Or whatever version of this that you have.

Because here's the thing, it's actually pretty easy to write 1000 words of inconsequential terrible story that no one's going to read. I mean 'pretty easy' - it's easier than writing the stories and characters you love the most and are so invested in, it's hard to write the sentences because you want to do justice to it all. That's fucking stressful, friend, and increasing writing output is just better if you're not always a) doing it on those stories or b) invested in writing those stories well in those early draft/s.

But once you're used to writing more words of stuff you don't love, it becomes easier to write less words of stuff you do, and chances are that will still be more than you're writing now. <3 Some of my stories are really easy to write, and some are way way harder. A chapter of The Ice Plague took as much time as three chapters of Underline the Black. So story is important here too. But also the point is basically that... you don't have to scale up your writing output with the stories you're most invested in, but need to be at a certain standard of writing. You can scale it up any time, with any kind of story - anyone can do this. Increasing your wordcount is a matter of like... easy methods that are less easy to implement irl because of the psychology around letting yourself write badly, and letting yourself validate the time / put the time aside to do that.

And here's the other thing - find a ritual that helps you. Whether it's brewing some tea before writing. Setting up a little space. Putting on some music or a noise generator specifically for writing. Listening to Lo-Fi Girl or Synthwave Boy. Whether it's writing a few words on paper first, or changing the font. Eventually you will have a Pavlovian response to the ritual, and every little bit helps.

As for the psychology, this is why you lowball. You make it as easy as possible. 'God writing 1000 words seems really hard oh but I only have to write a sentence today, cool, I can do that.'

The thing about lowballing is that on the good days, you will write way, way more than your goal. Which means a) you're done for the week if that happens if you want to be done and b) when you're back to feeling exhausted and like GGHGHGHGHHHHH about writing, you're still back at that initial lowball wordcount.

On my worst days, I lowball to like, 5 words, 10 words, and just write 5 / 10 / 15 etc. down on a piece of paper and cross them off. 30 words can be a sentence. 10 words can be a sentence. It feels nice to cross off numbers on a sheet of paper and see the increasing words. I can almost always get to 500 words with that method, and I think you could definitely get to 100.

Anyway the TL;DR

Consistency is way more important than quality

Don't be surprised if you don't find 'flow'

ALWAYS lowball when you're developing an increase in words

Figure out what 'regular' means to you (daily / weekly / etc.)

Make a ritual

Focus less on the stories you love most when developing this habit

If you have a bad week, just go back to the previous wordcount goal. And keep doing that, this won't be a linear process!!!

...It didn't need to be this long I'm so sorry anon idk why I'm like this.

I wish you all the best! I 100% disagree with the folks telling you 'just stop writing then.' I'm like nope, embrace the gravel blender, eventually you'll end up with smooth sand in an hourglass, I promise. <3 You just might have to add more gravel sometimes. ;)

[spidernerdsblog]

girls like you

A/N : got inspired by this cute reel. Hope you like this. Let me know what you think.

Summary : your baby girl starts an impromptu dance party.

Pairing : Dad! Peter Parker x Reader

Peter sat at the dinner table with his laptop. Being the chief researcher of the R&D team at Oscorp as the date for the launch of their new product approaches, the workload is tremendous. In between working on his report Peter took a few minutes to rest his eyes, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose and glanced at your direction.

You were sitting on the couch watching TV while your three year old daughter May played with her toys on the playmat in front of you. Peter looked at her longingly. He hasn���t been able to spend time with his little girl as much as he used to and it pained him. 

From the day you told him you were pregnant Peter was the happiest person on this planet, all the doctor appointments, birthing classes he was there with you. He would talk to your baby girl growing inside you everyday and after she was born he couldn't think he would love anything more than her. He didn’t want to miss out on anything of her growing up. You had reassuringly told him that it is fine once his work is done he can spend all the time he wants with her. 

You flipped through the channels when the song ‘girls like you’ started playing. May immediately left her toys and stood up on her wobbly feet.

“I likes it!” she said pointing at the tv screen and began to sway her body to the music. You smiled knowing it was her favorite song and increased the volume, bringing out your phone to record her cute dance. She squealed and clapped her hands in joy and you laughed encouraging her at how good she was at dancing but then she stopped in the middle. Her nose scrunching into a small frown as if she was trying to remember something.

“What happened sweetie?” you put your phone down looking at her carefully.

“Needs, daddy.” May mumbled and toddled her way towards the dinner table where Peter was working. “Daddy, hand!” she pealed.

“May, daddy is working.” you said standing up from the couch.

Peter stopped whatever he was doing on his laptop and looked down at his little princess smiling. “What is it buttercup?”

“Daddy, hand!” she demanded stretching out her little hand. Peter obliged, placing his big hand over her small one. 

“Daddy, dance wif me!” May tugged, grabbing his hand.

“You want me to dance with you?” his smile grew wider.

“Yes. Daddy, come!” she nodded and tugged on his hand again.

“OK buttercup, let's dance.” he said, taking off his glasses and setting them on the table before following her to the middle of the room. May clasped on both of his hands as they swayed together and then Peter broke into a silly dance making both of you laugh.

“Y/N, c’mon dance with us!” he said laughing and it made you happy to see him so relaxed after a long time. He had been working late this whole month and his spiderman duties made it difficult for him to spend time with you and May. You could see it on his face how disappointed he was but your sweet little daughter knew how to make her dad happy again.

“Yes mommy, dance!” she squealed.

“Ok!” you said and joined them doing some silly moves of your own. Peter lifted May in his arms, swaying her along with him as he reached out to grab your hand and spun you around. The three of you laughing out loud as another song started. Peter couldn't be anymore happier when he is with his two favorite girls in the world.

Reblogs are appreciated ❤️

[thezombieprostitute]

Sparks Fly - Part 5

Summary: After working as an engineer for Wilford & Gilliam Trust for several years you find evidence of seedy dealings and burned books. After turning in the evidence you find yourself in danger and seek help. You're taken into the protection of a mob family where you run into your high school best friend, Mace.

Word Count: ~1300

Warnings: Courtroom stress. Implied violence and attempted murder. Please let me know if I missed any.

Part 4 -- Part 6

Series Masterlist

The day of the testimony arrives way too quickly for you. You can barely eat anything that morning and only do so at Mace’s insistence. You’re already scared and don’t want the threat of vomiting making your nerves worse. 

He talks you through everything, emphasizing the security his people are gonna have looking out for you. “Barton’s gonna have an aerial view over the courthouse. GBH is gonna be in the crowds around the place, following any leads Barton gives him. And inside the courthouse is gonna be Nick.” He shows you a photo of Nick so you can search for him if you need to. “On top of that, Huffman’s taken care of the mole in his office and our intel guys have triple checked the rest of his team so the legitimate security force you have is going to protect you as well.”

You fight another wave of fear as you remember your first days in witness protection. The nonstop fear and seemingly never ending line of people wanting to kill you. Mace sees you tense and immediately pulls you in for a hug, gently kissing the top of your head, rubbing your arm.

“And after today,” you whisper, “do we know what’ll happen to me?”

“Teach managed to get you another week of being in this safehouse, pending emergency situations,” Mace tells you. “That way we can see if Wilford & Gilliam even have the resources to retaliate after everything.”

“They seem the type to spend their last penny on taking out someone who cost them so much.”

“Yeah, but at the same time, your testimony is going to do a lot of good for a lot of people hurt by their products, tactics and everything else,” Mace comforts. “I know it might not mean much to you, but you really are doing a lot of good with this. A major civil case, at the very least, is going to be able to use your testimony to give families some kind of retribution.” 

Mace had been talking with Barber, the Family’s lawyer, on a daily basis. He wanted to make sure that when he gave you information, comfort, it was backed up by someone who actually knew their stuff. Barber was quick to give Mace and Teach support for keeping you safe because of the good involved in taking down Wilford & Gilliam. There was a major class action lawsuit only able to go forward because of you. It affected several people in the Family’s territory which helped the push for more protection for you. 

You push yourself up, “I should probably get showered and dressed. Huffman’s gonna be here in an hour or so, right?”

“Right,” Mace confirmed. “And you know I wouldn’t let you leave with someone I didn’t trust to keep you safe.”

“Right,” you nod.

Mace is first to the courthouse. He’s not allowed on the text chain between either of your security teams but he is allowed to text if he sees something or someone questionable. He’s keeping an eye on the courthouse website’s calendar, making sure he knows if any changes happen. He’s nervous about the whole thing and grateful they don’t have good coffee or he’d be even more jittery. 

Once the proceedings begin, though, he calms down a bit. He’s in the back row of the right room at the right time. He takes a look around at the other people in the room, trying to memorize important identifiers in case identification is needed later. He’s practiced at making sure to not immediately look up when someone enters or leaves the room. He knows how to look like just another bored face. I’ve got this, he lets himself think. 

The room is far from empty, the giant conglomerate that is Wilford & Gilliam is on trial. The rows are occupied by victims and press alike. Because of that, he isn’t surprised when someone sits a little too close to him. What does surprise him is that he recognizes the signet ring on the person’s hand. Trying to not be obvious Mace looks as best he can from the corner of his eye but the guy is too tall. He needs a new angle. 

Thankfully that’s when you’re brought in, dressed in the business formal attire Teach had picked up for you. Your entry was the excuse he needed to look up and glance to his side, confirming his suspicions. Franco the Younger, hitman for Wilford & Gilliam. How the hell did he get past Barton and G? Mace wastes no time subtly pulling out his phone and texting a message to the team. 

He makes sure to keep looking forward, in case you need him, but his focus is on Franco, searching for any and all movement. The Franco’s were dedicated to their corporate overlords. All Mace knew was that they had no limits. They’d do whatever was needed to get their prey. They’re the ones that killed Curtis’s brother Edgar, eager to be rid of the competition for the favor of their CEO’s. The fact that Curtis could confirm some of the more heinous rumors about the brothers made Mace’s skin crawl.

His relief comes in the form of Nick taking the seat on the other side of Franco. Nick stretches his arms on the back of the pew, he’s able to pat Mace’s shoulder a little in an attempt to be comforting. 

Franco looks at Nick who whispers, just loud enough that Mace can make it out, “you know, me and my Lady have a party to go to in a few days that has me all kinds of worked up and stressed. I’d love to take that energy out on someone. What do you say, Franco? You wanna help me with that?”

Mace lets himself smile as he sees Franco’s hand clench into a fist. The Franco’s may have the stronger reputation for ruthlessness but Nick’s reputation for efficiency in causing pain is well nigh legendary. Franco wordlessly stands and walks outside of the courtroom. Nick follows a few minutes later, letting Mace focus on you. 

You’ve been doing an amazing job in your testimony. You’re hitting all the important notes, making sure your explanations aren’t overly technical while not being so dumbed down that holes can be poked in your words, allowing doubt to seep in. It took up so much of your brain power you didn’t have the energy to be scared or look around for Mace. You keep your attention on the questions only occasionally needing to fidget with something for your nerves. 

As much as you’d wanted to keep Mace nearby for the pre-trial prep you had to admit, Huffman was likely the better person for it. He talked you through all of the things that were going to happen, gave you some advice for how to handle yourself and speak to the jury at their level. You took all of his advice to heart and, given the looks you’ve seen from the lawyers and the families in the gallery, you’ve been doing well. 

The only thing that you couldn’t really prepare for was how much time was needed. It felt like you’d been answering questions for hours without a break. Maybe that was their tactic? Wear you down to make you less intelligible? Less trustworthy as a source? It was a major relief to you when the judge called for a recess. You’d get some food and some friendly company to help settle your nerves before round two. 

Part 4 -- Part 6

Series Masterlist

Tagging:

@chibijusstuff

@jamneuromain

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@rebekahdawkins

@texmexdarling

Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

[i-magines]

Wildest Dreams: Chapter 7

Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6 | CHAPTER 8 | CHAPTER 9 | CHAPTER 10

synopsis: You’re an assistant director in an indie movie set and fate makes sure you keep crossing paths with a certain Chilean actor.  

disclaimer: This is my first Pedro Pascal’s fictional work + the first fanfic I write in English, as it isn’t my first language. Unfortunately, I do not own Pedro and this is all a product of my imagination.

rating: M (keep scrolling if your under 18 please)

warnings: age gap, mature content, eventual drinking and drugs, fem!reader, smut every once in a while, a little angst, protective pedro, panic attack (not detailed), just he being an angel mostly.

n/a: thanks for last chapter’s comments! they always put a smile on my face :D

word count: 1,751

After the extra days off in Berlin, life back at the movie set was not your cup of tea. New director, new schedule, new dynamics. You weren’t able to spend as much time alone with Pedro anymore, because they were redoing a big part of the movie and keeping the same end date for the shootings — that meant no more night sneakouts for both of you, not on working days at least. You still texted all the time and kept staring at each other every time you were in the same room, but you just missed how things were at the beginning, especially with this sparkle happening between you two. You eagerly waited for your off day announcement, hoping it would match Pedro’s for the first time in almost a month. When you got the paper, it upset you. Later, on the same day, you asked Pedro to come over to your cabin for a little, which he happily did.

You could see how tired he was, 3 months into the shooting. This was an ungrateful industry, for sure. You were tired yourself, being just an assistant. You hugged him once the door was closed.

“I’ve missed you so much, mi princesa”, he whispered in your ear. “This filming schedule will end up killing all of us.”

“Yeah, I’m not looking forward to the final month, we are so behind…” You couldn’t help but worry about all the extra hours to come, but you didn’t want to spend your time with him talking about work. “I was wondering, I will have the day after tomorrow off. I saw you don’t, but maybe you could ask for it?”

“I can try”, he said, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “There’s something I’ve meaning to tell you about.”

Your anxious ass was already nervous. You stared at him, waiting.

“Donna asked me about the nature of our relationship”, a little pout on his face. “I didn’t give her an answer, but I guess people have been gossiping about it.”

“We don’t even get to spend that much time together anymore”, you felt upset. “That’s just so fucking unfair.”

He held you closer into his chest, giving you a little kiss on the top of your head.

“You’re the only thing keeping me sane, sweetheart”, Pedro promised, as you got caught up on hearing his heart pumping hard inside his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault, P”, you said softly. “That’s the one thing you can’t protect me from, I guess.”

Pedro breathed out strongly, feeling frustrated.

“I just wish we could come clean”, he confessed. “I feel hiding it just makes it look worse for us, and I really don’t think we’re doing anything wrong.”

“People already give me these dirty, judgy looks only being suspicious of it”, you replied. “Picture if we come out, my life here would turn into hell and probably none of these people would put out a good word about me for a next gig.”

“I hate how they choose to pick on you, not me”, Pedro touches your arm with affection. “What do you want to do?”

“It would be lovely if we got the same day off, as a start.” You loved how he was always asking your opinion. “Maybe we could go back to that pub in Berlin, just get out of this place for a bit.”

“I will make sure it happens, promise”, he showed you his pinky. You smiled and took it, kissing him briefly on the lips — there’s no time or energy for more than that.

The next day, you get early to the common area and, before you get to say anything to let them know you were there, you hear Pedro and Donna mentioning your name. It looked like they were having an argument.

“This will fuck your career up if you don’t drop it”, she said, getting an angry look from him. “I did everything you asked: Dave’s out, I kept her on the crew and I will recommend her to future jobs, but that’s what you’re getting from me.”

“You’re talking like she was a kid or something”, Pedro argued with a frustrated tone.

“You know it’s fucking wrong, otherwise you wouldn’t have kept it as a secret until now”, Donna told him, making you fell incredible bad. You should make a sound or something, but it felt like it was too late. “A scandal like this can ruin the whole movie campaign, the award season, every single thing is on the line here. For what? A twenty-something old pussy? Please.”

“I won’t ask you again to watch your fucking mouth when you talk about her”, he was controlling himself, the tension on his body showing.

“You can have your fucking day off Pedro”, she shaked her shoulders. “I wash my hands, but if this backlashes against the project or the studio, I might not be able to do anything about you, but she is fucked.”

“Don’t you fucking dare”, he warned her.

“You heard me and you better make sure she knows what she is getting into”, Donna didn’t seem intimidated. “That’s if you’re even keeping her after we’re done here.”

Pedro didn’t reply and she went away to the opposite direction, her last statement still floating in the air. Fuck, that didn’t look good. You didn’t want him to know you just heard all of that, so you quietly sneaked back to your cabin. That conversation was everything you were able to think about during the day, as you did your best to avoid being with both of them. Later, Pedro texted you to come over with your bag packed for the day away. Once you got there, he greeted you with a tired smile and occupied himself with packing his own luggage.

“I heard you and Donna today”, you confessed. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before.”

Pedro looked at you, a worried look in his eyes.

“Which part?” He asked, using his hand to invite you to sit on his bed with him.

“The last one”, you frowned. “Was she right?”

“About what?”

“You don’t keeping me after.”

He breathed out slowly, running his hands on his face.

“I don’t know what life will bring, sweetheart”, he started, but your heart was already racing. That’s definitely not what you wanted to hear. “Of course I care about you, but I told you before, I can’t make long term promises right now.”

It just broke you a little bit — at least, he is being honest, you thought. But it didn’t help the sinking feeling you felt inside.

“Thanks for making things clear”, you whispered, doing your best to hold back the tears. “We should get going… Let’s enjoy the month we have left.”

“Baby girl—”

“It’s fine, Pedro”, you didn’t let him finish. “Let’s just go.”

So you two did. The drive to Berlin was absolute silence and, once you got there, you went straight to the same pub/night club from the first time you went out together. Pedro’s friends were waiting for you there, but your mind just wasn’t in it. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but that wasn’t it. You felt heartbroken to the point you couldn’t pretend everything was fine and just be around him, so you decided to sit at the bar by yourself. He didn’t come after you at first, and when he did, you were already kind of drunk, full of all these feelings.

“You okay?” He asked, getting on the seat by your side. “I hope you got what I meant—”

“Do you do it in every project?” You interrupted him, popping the question that was killing you. “Am I just a thing for this one, and next one is another girl?”

“I wouldn’t— Y/N, I never meant that”, he looked worried that you were thinking that about him. “Please, don’t even go there, it’s nonsense.”

You nodded, unsatisfied but unable to start a proper argument.

“If you aren’t having a good time, I would rather just get a hotel room and spend our free time together”, Pedro said after a few minutes in silence.

You didn’t reply, you only stood up and shaked your head at the exit’s direction. He guided you, holding your hand. He opened the door for you and you didn’t expect the flashes and yelling. Scared, you almost stumbled on your own feet, but Pedro held your arm, side-hugging you and using his jacket to protect your face from the paparazzi. You felt a panic attack coming, feeling unable to move. Pedro held you even closer, doing his best to protect you.

"Who is she?” A pap screamed.

“Pose for a pic, Pedro!” Another one did the same.

“Please you guys, give us space”, Pedro asked politely, he could barely see where he was going, the strong flashing lights taking his sight away.

“New GF, Pepe?” They kept trying to get a good picture of both of you. “Let me see her cute face. C'mon, man!”

“Fuck off, asshole”, Pedro pushed his way through the group, getting you inside the car and telling the driver to go. “What the fuck just happened?”

You still couldn’t move, your eyes hurting from the lights and your dizziness wasn’t helping. Pedro held your hand tight and kissed your cheek.

“You okay, baby, I got you”, he promised. 

Your breath was irregular and you hid your face against his chest.

“I’m so, so sorry— I don’t even know’, he touched your hair nicely. “Try to focus on your breath, sweetheart. You’re safe, you’re with me.”

You did as he asked, trying to pay attention to his beating heart, as it always brought you confort. He reached for a water bottle and gave it to you. You slipped a little bit, being able to regain control of your breathing. Your whole body still shaking.

“Fuck”, he whispered, running his hand thought his hair. “It’s okay, we’re okay.”

“What the hell was that?” You spoke with a weak voice, still regulating yourself.

“Fucking paps, I don’t know—” he tried to explain, but you could see they caught him off guard as well. “Let’s get you to bed, I’m gonna call my agent. It will be fine.”

He did as he promised. He helped you undress and change into your pajamas. You brushed your teeth under his careful look and he tucked you into bed, giving you a long kiss on your forehead.

CHAPTER 8 AVALIABLE NOW

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