#sorry for the mistake on the 23rd!

[fictional-birthdays]

Happy Birthday, IA! (Vocaloid)

[cozylittleartblog]

okay the junk follower spam is officially over ( over 7k... what the fuck....) and I'm gonna start clearing it out so

📢 A REMINDER

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, CHANGE YOUR ICON AND BLOG TITLE/HEADER TO ANYTHING THAT ISN'T THE DEFAULT

EVERYONE WITH A DEFAULT ICON AND HEADER IS BEING BLOCKED AND REPORTED SPAM

i respect your right to lurk silently but tumblr has an ongoing problem with b*t accounts, you can literally change your icon to a meme and your header to "not a bot lol", don't care, it just has to Not Be Default. or a real picture of a woman, actually, don't do that either. if blogs keep blocking you, that's why! if you don't know How to change those... try " google.com "

that is all

[occamstfs]

Diet Diaries

Hi all! Thank you so much for 500 followers! Here's a little style switch up to celebrate, got a lotta refs in this one and I quite leaned into the diary entries so I hope it's not too much! Hope y'all enjoy this stereotype reversal and as always, best! -Occam

Monday March 21st-

Andy:

I am beyond sick of Steve. Moving in together was a mistake, I don’t care how cheap the rent is, he is a narcissistic slob and I am eager to never see him again. Well no, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Our R.A. had this idea to try and walk in each other's shoes, which I don’t know? It might not be the worst thing? My big idea was switching diets actually- honestly I’m just hoping if he ate more like me he’ll stop stinking up the dorm. I can dream at least. Literally though he just can’t go to the gym as often if he eats like me. If I'm lucky at the very least his deodorant will last longer, I cannot take another day of his b.o. seeping through the walls, ugh! Anyway, wish me luck! I’m sure this will be a breeze for me, he usually just eats junk anyway, hope he enjoys my salads~

Steve:

Andy that little fucker. He was being such a little bitch to James and now I’ve gotta eat his rabbit food for a week or lose this bet or whatever. Steve don’t lose tho. Lil twink’s gotta eat whatever I make him too and you can bet your ass I’m gonna make him match my macros if I’ve gotta starve myself like he wants. Fuck! This shit is going to absolutely tank my routine! I’ve gotta make Andy give up. I’m gonna go so hard on him he’ll have to hit weights if he doesn't want to blow up like a pig. Maybe then he’ll stop bitching any time I don’t fucking shower every time I get back home. 

Tuesday March 22nd-

Andy:

My Lord! He is trying to kill me! I don’t know how anyone could consistently eat as much as he’s telling me to. I’m so bloated from all this food.. He looks so smug every time he tells me to keep eating, I’m sure he doesn’t eat like this. He’s just trying to break me but I’m not going to let him win this easy.

Ugh, I feel so bloated my pants are so tight on my waist. I didn’t think meat sweats were a thing but man I am needing to put on deodorant like twice a day now and I’m not even exercising. I will say that now that I’m eating so much, I don’t hate the idea of going to the gym. It’s been a while since I went but I should probably at least hit up the treadmill lest I get even more of a gut- maybe I’ll see if he wants to go tomorrow. This is all just an exercise to understand each other more after all, no need to make it a stupid competition like he wants eh~

Steve:

Fuck! I am so tired of Andy’s pussy-ass diet. I had absolutely no energy at the gym today, I told all my bros that I was just gonna take it easy but fuck! I really was working my ass off and I struggled to even meet a PR I set last week. It was supposed to be a push day and I didn’t even get a chest pump! Why the fuck am I still going. I’m abso-fucking-lutely not getting gains on his fuckin’ bitch-ass salads and oats.

Eatin’ like a fucking twink and the fucker has the nerve to ask to go to the gym with me tomorrow. I’ll make sure he regrets that >:) Gonna work him like a horse so he’ll throw in the towel! After feeling how sore actually working on yourself makes ya, he might actually learn something. I’ll turn in early so I can go all out and show him what a real man looks like.

Wednesday March 23rd-

Andrew:

Man! I totally get why Steven eats so much now~ I am absolutely raring to go and get this; He said I could go to the gym with him today! He even seemed like he wanted me to go with him! I feel like I have more energy than I’ve ever had before, I might even try some weights!! I don’t know but I’m so excited! It’s like I can feel my chest and biceps begging me to go and hit some iron haha! Or whatever those “bros” say~ I hope he’s got something good planned for lunch because I fuck Sorry! I just want to show him that I can do all this dude stuff too! I’m a man right? I guess all this protein is making me feel more like a man than usual idk. Either way though I’m ready to go! Hope we have some fun!

Steven:

That bitch’s fuckin’ fru fru salads are ruining my PR’s for sure! I bet he knew that when he begged me to take him to the gym today, knew it was the only time he could show off to me was when I’m so out of it. And he didn't! Just to be clear I could still wipe the floor with  him even if I’m not at my A-game. Ugh, I do gotta hand it to the little fucker though. I KNOW he hasn’t even really set foot in a gym before but man. Beginners luck my ass, as soon as I showed him a technique he lifted like he’s been doing it his whole life! It’s like I could see his pecs and tris swelling up with each lift. Not that I was staring at the bitch or anything but he’s just I just need this fuckin’ diet thing to end so I can get back to my grind, I guess I wouldn’t hate taking him to the gym more often, would be hot to make a bitch into a bro Fuck! What am I writing, I just need to lift again.

Thursday March 24th-

Andrew: 

Bro! Weird? Whatever, I am absolutely on fire! Steven’s diet is absolutely killer! I don’t know how it’s working so well but man I couldn’t care less, I felt like a pro in there! My coaches in school would always shit on me for not trying but man! I was barely trying yesterday but I could tell from the look on Steven’s face that I was acing it! I guess I’ll have to admit to him that he is definitely onto something with his macros but man, not until he gives up haha! Man, I need to chill haha, it’s not like I’m any stronger than I was Monday but man, looking at myself in the mirror it just seems like my clothes are just fitting better. Catching on my chest rather than my stomach y’know? I’ve never noticed that there is muscle on my arms before but man the way my sleeves are kinda hugging my biceps mm. I need to chill haha! Can’t use all my energy before hitting the gym again today!

OH! Also totally weird, I’ve had to shave twice this week! Once last night and then again this morning which is so weird! I’m not complaining though, it’s not like I wouldnt look hot with a beard right? Although my face is a little itchy already, my chest too? Whatever though haha! Time to head back to the grind lol!

Steven:

God!! Andy Andrew is being such an asshole! He’s clogging the sink shaving which I know he would so be on my ass if I had done that. Wait, he did get on my ass for shaving! But it hasn’t been a problem this week, it’s like I’m not even growing stubble for some reason? Probably from not working so hard at the gym, is that how that works? Whatever it’ll be over as soon as this stupid diet thing is. We’re halfway through now. Thank God! Because that fucking twink is starting to stink up the dorm which again!! He was such a little bitch all the time to me about that! It’s like he’s literally stopped using deodorant as soon as he started needing it! He’s never exerted himself in his life and now that his pits are sweating at all he’s suddenly allergic to hygiene, ugh! I saw last night too the fucker fell asleep with his head in his pit too so it’s not like he doesn’t know it. 

It was a little surprising actually, cause I would’ve sworn he was hairless like one of those freak cats but man his pit was as thick as my pubes! Thicker maybe, uh? Man I wish I could get that image out of my head, it’s like the tuft was pushing out further each time he inhaled, man that’s kinda hot? Fuck! I swear this twink-ass diet is making me think like him too. I need to sneak to the gym later, without him. I cannot have him getting ahead even while I’m still on his chickenshit diet.

Friday March 25th-

Steven:

Ah!! That Little bitch! He was already at the gym when I got there! Ugh! It makes me want to punch a wall, or fight him. Or something I dont know! It’s just, he was lifting my body weight on the bench when he saw me, it was so ho ugh! It doesn’t matter what it was, I can’t stop thinking of that smug look on his face- what I would give to wipe it off… That absolute prick knew what he was doing. Ugh, speaking of pricks! He may as well have not been wearing shorts at all by how much his cock was showing through them.

I knew my meal prepping was fucking tight but man, I can’t believe hot its made him. It just really fucking turns me on, or no its such a turn on for chicks. Yeah. Whatever. I need this bet to end already. Clearly he’s totally obsessed with my lifestyle so he should just admit it already! Also, hate to say it, but to Andrew’s credit his diet ain't too bad either. I’d never tell him this, and it is all a little emasculating but my skin has never looked this good. I’m not even doing skincare or anything but it’s like I’ve been on a routine for years, it’s crazy! It’s still ruining my upper gains but man, my ass looks so good it's crazy..

Oh also re: facial hair, I woke up this morning and could’ve sworn I used to have chest hair but now it looks like I’ve got just a little left around my nipples and leading up from my pubes? I might go ahead and shave those too, might as well be totally smooth like a chick right haha, I wonder what Andrew would think? I need to chill haha, maybe I’ll go see if he’s still at the gym~

Andrew:

Fuuuuck dude lol. I should’ve started hitting up the gym ages ago. Don’t know what I was even wasting time on before I started doing twice-a-days? Studying I guess but I can figure that shit stuff out hm. Fuck it is so much better to be strong than a dweeb. Every set it feels like I’m just busting out new PR’s! Gonna need to buy new clothes though cause I am absolutely tearing up my crop tops, my twinky little wardrobe just isn’t cutting it anymore. Maybe Steven’d be down for a clothes swap, I’ve seen him eying up my fits all week, god knows he’ll fit them better lol. Oh haha, and speaking of him eying things up >:) You should’ve seen his little face blush when he walked into the gym this morning! He looked so pissed at me lol, but I’m not gonna grab him to come along every time I need to get some sets in right? It was pretty embarrassing for him yesterday anyway, the way I showed him up lol. I’m not just gonna sit around and watch him not lift weights when I can figure this shit out myself, thought it was supposed to be his thing though lol.

Mm, saying that though, I def didn’t hate having a little audience from his treadmill. God, his blushing face as he stared directly at my work-out chub. Fuck, it really got me going. It really helped my sets too haha. Maybe I should hit him up lol, I can tell how bad he wants me >:)

Saturday March 26th-

Stevie:

Ugh! That douche is walking around the dorm completely shirtless! Do you know what it’s like to have an oaf flexing away across the room from you 24/7! He knows what he’s doing, and thank god my dick isn’t showing through my shorts like I thought it usually does because he might literally pounce on me then-

Ugh! I didn’t even mention this morning. I literally woke up to him jacking off his morning wood! Do you know what a bitch-fit he would have thrown if I did that! He would’ve filed a police report, probably the dweeb, or. I guess I could too?? But it was just so fucking hot. I tried to pretend I was asleep, but he totally caught me. He literally smirked and made eye contact as he finished too- thank god he didn’t see my boner as he asked if I wanted to clean up his mess. He’s such an ass! 

I still have a boner now actually, it’s his B.O. driving me actually crazy! It’s like I can’t think near him if he’s going to stink this bad god.. Oh, he’s doing pullups on the door frame fuck. He’s supposed to be hairless but I see sweat dripping from his pits god I can't. God with each pull up his chest looks even more powerful. His cock is bobbing up and down in his pants and I can not look away. Fuck it’s getting even bigger. I’m supposed to be the strong one right? It’s not, fuck. This isn’t right. He just so fucking, god that body, I need him-

And Drew:

Heh. I knew that fucking twink couldn’t resist me. Every little thing I do wraps him even tighter around my finger. Every flex and smirk turns him on even more I bet he can’t even think straight the way his little dick is losing it in his briefs- I took all his jocks since I’m sure he would need them anymore. Bet the little bitch didn’t even remember they were his.  

Might as well have been drooling when he saw me jacking my cock this morning lol, surprised he didn’t take me up on the offer to lick up the mess. I know he wanted to lol. He’ll get the chance soon enough though >:) God it’s a two-way street though. That fucking twink is so fuckable now, thank god he doesn’t need to shave anymore, don’t want his peachfuzz scratching my cock cause god that mouth is so fuckable now.. To say nothing of his fucking juicy ass, god! I’ve been working out in the room all morning waiting for him to give in and ask me to fuck him, idk if I can hold it in much longer. I might need to jack it again, my balls are bluer than I ever thought they could be, fuck. It’s like they're sore. Ugh I feel them getting heavier, heh, that little fucker cant resist though. God I feel precum starting to pool in my jock. If I put my pit within a foot of his face I give him five before he can’t help but shove his face in. I need to fuck him, but as if I’m going to let him see how desperate I am. Stevie that little fucker. He’ll be riding my cock any second now.

Sunday March 27th-

Stevie:

Fuck <3 !! He finally fucked me!! God, it was like nothing I’ve experienced before~ His cock was like a beer can and goddd the scratch of his beard as we were making out.. Hehe if I keep thinking about him I might just cum again right now! He can fully toss my body like a ragdoll and I’d thank him ugh! He’s just so hot, and to think he wants to fuck me!! Ah~ I’ll need to keep myself pretty so he won’t get tired of me hehe! Not that it’ll be a problem, I just need to keep on his diet, God who knew it would be this good! I don’t even remember whatever problems we had before all this and I can’t imagine anything better than getting fucked by him <3 Ah! He he~ He’s staring at my ass right now so I guess it’s time for another round! Can’t thank our R.A. enough for this idea, well he he I’ve got an idea for how to thank him, oh! Drew’s ripped off his jock! Wish me luck he he~

Drew:

My little bitch is so tight, fuck. I’m surprised he can even take my cock but god can he ride it. Gonna have a hard time taking a break from fucking him to even hit the gym. Need to make sure the twink keeps up the diet tho or we’ll have an issue. Be sure to make him come to the gym whenever I do, if not to tighten up then to watch me heh. Won’t hate fucking him in the locker room too. Mm, God his fucking tiny body makes me feel so powerful. And I fucking am. God my bis are the size of his thick thighs, fuck his ass. My cock is straining my jock just thinking about it. His tiny waist ugh, I need my sweaty body over him now. Not like he’ll mind, the horny fucker. Mmm hope he’s ready to take my cock, bet his mouth is already watering heh. Pop my pecs at him and he’ll struggle not to cum on the spot, he better keep it together until I let him though. Can’t be having my bitch blow his load that fast. Thank fuck he’s chilled out finally, though I guess my cock’ll work wonders on anyone >:) speaking of it’s about that time again. Hope he’s ready for some more action, hate to have to find another hole.

[forusomimiya]

Check part one if u wanna enjoy it full 😚

Virgin!Suna wasn't afraid to stick his dick in a real pussy. Unfortunately, a teammate gave his a fake one for his 23rd birthday, so he had time to practice and learn how to care and touch it.

"How can you turn 23 and still be a virgin?" Komori added. "You should stick it in at least once before kick the bucket, Rintaro. Trust me, it'll be worth it" Washio advised.

Virgin!Suna wouldn't stop showing you how hard he was thinking about you at home, in the shower, or even in the gym locker room surrounded by people. It couldn't just be him showing how needy he was, because you needed him too, badly enough. You would go straight to hell if anyone saw the images you and Suna shared with each other. It was worth doing.

Virgin!Suna would pray to every god in existence that he could take more than 2 minutes inside you, and he would curse to believe that that fucking silicone pussy would help his control it. He had no choice but to spend time beforehand flattering, kissing and caressing it before filling it.

"God… *kiss* it smells so good *kiss* *kiss* and it's sooo soft… *kiss* I can't wait to take it bunny. Can I call ya that? ´cause that's what you're going to be, right? My little bunny."

Virgin!Suna with his heart about to burst out of his mouth, would contemplate how your pussy opens up perfectly for him, sucking him off without grumbling.

"Oh shit, no no no, I can't, I can't baby. You're so wet that- I don't think I can hold it in. I don't know if I can do it, I-I don't think I can even get back in."

He wasn´t wrong.

Virgin!Suna would take a breath and with courage, prepare to enter a second time. But oh, the thought of getting it into a pussy was so easy but, what was there in seeing you half-naked lying on his bed, arching your back in a desperate search for his thick cock, wearing his team t-shirt, (which he cursed with all his being to have lent you for not imagining he could see your hard fucking nipples under it), suffocating, whining and almost whimpering surrendering under his grip, and with your fucking pussy dripping endlessly onto the sheets and throbbing with every approach to your entrance?

A mistake. A fucking mistake.

“Shit!”

As uncontrollable were his thoughts as the leakage of semen.

“Oh sssshit babe! Aaah s-sorry babe, i can’- fuck, I can’t stop, hah… hah honey, just- shit, fuck me, and don’t fucking s-sstop”.

Virgin!Suna it would take not once, not twice, but three times to get his emotions back in order to act properly. But the best was yet to come.

Virgin!Suna had a pretty lucky first time. He took all the time in the world to take you as many times as he wanted so he could surrender to you and let you take control at least once. A control that would completely end with him every time he got lost in the movements of your ass riding his cock, or in your sweet mouth, which ended up being his favorite body part to cum in.

"Bunny... if you're going to take me like this every time we fuck, you're going to drive me completely crazy."

And even though he had taken you completely, the bastard was already missing seeing you again.

•

•

•

enjoy :P @animeloverzx @passionateuchiha @hayatslife @tojicvmslut @pinkscolouredcrayons 💖

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART V

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). mentions of sex. angst. cussing, age gap, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: hi everyone! i know i owe you guys SO MUCH so here's a short lil chapter to quench your thirst. more on the way i promise!!! btw this isn't proofread so if u spot any mistakes hit me up. happy reading (or not cause the angst won once again besties, sorry in advance) <3

August 23rd, 2019 

Anaheim, California

You thought that having a shot of tequila would take off the edge of anxiety that had you shaking in your seat, but there you were taking another one, and the tingling in your hands still hadn’t ceased. "Want another?" Renata asked, a bottle in hand and a glint of worry in her eyes as she noticed your unsteady movements. You shook your head; you wouldn't risk it with a third. She waited until the hair and makeup team left the room before putting a hand on your shoulder, the cold of her ring pressing into your skin. "You want to talk about it?"

"It's just nerves," you mumbled, toying with your fingers, trying to brush off her concern. But Renata wasn't convinced, her gaze piercing through your facade. "Is it because of—" she said before you cut her off.

"No," you interrupted firmly, not wanting to dive into that topic. Renata nodded, understanding your reluctance. She simply squeezed your shoulder in silent support, knowing damn well what it was about. As she started to lead you out of the room, you continued. "We haven't seen each other in months."

There it is.

"And the last time we talked, he basically told me he didn't want to do anything with me." Renata's eyes softened; her empathy evident. "He didn't say that," she murmured, her grip on your shoulder tightening.

Your eyes met hers, filled with anger and confusion. "He did. He slept with me and then decided that was it." Renata's expression turned grim as she guided you out of the halls and onto the red carpet. She knew there was more to it than what you were letting on, but who was she to pry?

She faced you while gently fixing your hair as you continued. "But I'm with someone else now, and I'm happy, and I just need to get my shit together." Renata nodded. "You deserve to be happy and move on from this," she said softly.

The chatter of everyone on the carpet and the click of cameras surrounded you both, louder than before. "It'll be just a couple of interviews and photos now. After that, you and—" she hesitated.

"It's okay, you can say his name, Ren."

"You and Pedro will be taken into a photo studio for the official portraits," Renata finished. "Let's just make this quick and painless."

"I can assure you this will be everything except quick and painless," you replied with a forced smile, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach. "But I appreciate your attempt to lighten the mood." She mouthed sorry for a moment before leading you both towards the line of press, where the bright lights and flashing cameras awaited. As you stepped into position to talk to the reporters, you reminded yourself to take a deep breath and stay composed, knowing that it would be okay.

•••

It was, in fact, not okay.

The groan that escaped your lips and the rolling of your eyes were unavoidable. You'd managed to stay clear of him for as long as you could—a complete victory by your standards—and now, with only seconds before you escaped, the very man you had tried to evade appeared before you.

Being within meters of him now, all those firsts, lasts, and never agains were as sharp and vivid as they'd ever been, forming a knot of unease in your chest that made breathing difficult. You hadn't spoken yet, both preoccupied with the rush of media attention surrounding you.

Nonetheless, you took quick glances at him whenever you could.

"Time for the portraits," Renata whispered, as you finished talking to a reporter for the LA Times. "Looking forward to seeing the show!" you nodded, trying to keep your smile in place as you followed Renata. It was a small room with bright lights and a white backdrop, but all you could focus on was the man standing across from you, getting his hair touched up by a stylist. Your own team hovered around you, adjusting your outfit and makeup, but your eyes kept drifting back to him.

The photographer introduced herself, and you were instructed to stand in the middle of the backdrop. You looked each other up and down. God, he looked good, you thought. And then you cursed yourself. Your groan at the sight of him was barely audible, but Renata shot you a knowing look.

"You kinda stole my look," he said, raising an eyebrow. The audacity of this man was infurating. How dare he, after what happened, address you so casually, like nothing has changed between you two?

"Hm, no, you kinda stole my look," you retorted, no emotion in your voice. The tension between you was palpable as the photographer began snapping photos, capturing the silent competition between you two. He was wearing a floral shirt that perfectly complemented your own outfit—a corset-like black top with floral details and black dress pants. However, one little detail caught your eye: the shiny gold chain decorating his neck.

Stop, don't go there. It suddenly became necessary to wash away the awful thought that little piece of jewelry was attractive in the slightest and that cold shower and glass of wine you had been looking forward to at home would now have to happen—but instead of a glass, it would be a whole bottle.

"Okay guys, now let's take some shots pretending to laugh together," the photographer suggested, breaking the tension. You both shared a forced smile, trying to outdo each other in the fake laughter department. "And get closer, please," she added, gesturing for you to move in towards each other. As you leaned in, you couldn't help but notice the faint scent of his cologne. "Pedro, put your arm around her waist," the photographer instructed, prompting Pedro to look down on you.

"Can I?" he asked, ever so politely. The question transported you to a room in Chile, where the tips of his fingers were under your shorts and your mouths were enticingly close.

Stop, stop, stop.

"Sure, whatever," you replied, trying to shake off the memories flooding back. Pedro hesitated for a moment before standing behind you and gently placing his arm around your waist—a moment of unexpected intimacy as your hand followed and rested on top of his. The photographer snapped the picture just as you forced another smile, masking the turmoil within.

"Are we done?" Pedro asked, his voice rumbling in your ear. Despite his complaints, he enjoyed doing photoshoots. They catered to his need to show off.

"Yes, we have everything we need. Thanks guys!"

Both of you quickly separated, relieved to put some distance between yourselves. You didn't say another word as you both gathered your things and headed out of the studio, tension lingering in the air, unsure of what would come next and hating every second of the awkwardness that now hung between you.

•••

The D23 Expo was not turning out to be the fun experience you had hoped for. You've been sitting in the panel room with the rest of the cast and crew for about half an hour, actively avoiding eye contact with the source of your anxiety. Dave was talking about what a huge honor it is to continue his Star Wars journey with a live action series, having previously only worked on animated projects. Jon followed suit, expressing his excitement for the opportunity to develop the series on a more cinematic scale.

Everyone was buzzing with enthusiasm, but you.

"Now I'm going to give the floor to the fans for any questions," the moderator announced, turning towards the crowd with a smile. A teenager in the front row was handed a microphone, anticipation rippling through the audience as she prepared to ask her question.

"Hi, my name's Sarah, and I just wanted to say how thrilled I am for this new series. I am a huge fan of Star Wars, and pretty much everyone here," she said, "especially you and Pedro," gesturing towards you and finally asking the question you've successfully avoided answering all night. "I know you've been friends for a long time. Can you share any behind-the-scenes stories from filming, and how was it working together on this project?"

"Oh, they have a lot. These two were menaces on set," Jon interjected, eliciting laughter from the audience. You exchanged a knowing glance with Pedro before sharing a bright smile with the girl. "I think Jon is specifically referring to the time I broke Pedro's nose and ended up in the hospital."

The audience erupted into a mix of laughter and gasps, clearly entertained by the unexpected revelation as you continued to recount the hilarious mishap. "But yeah, overall, it was definitely a fun and memorable experience working together. We had some great times on set, despite the occasional injury," you added with a chuckle.

"Yeah, she's a brilliant scene partner; I wouldn't change a thing about it," Pedro chimed in, nodding in agreement. If you didn't know better, you would think he actually meant it. The girl beamed at the two of you, clearly enjoying the interaction between you and Pedro, oblivious to the fact that you couldn't wait to get out of there and never see him again.

The moderator intervened, clearly interested in picking up more about the dynamics. "Now that it's been brought up, I was one of the few people who got to see the first episode yesterday, and I have to say there's a lot of on-screen chemistry between the two of you. Is it possible that a romantic relationship will develop in future episodes?"

The answer escaped from your lips instantly. "Not that we can confirm or deny anything at this point, but I think that these characters are very different and have a complex relationship that will continue to evolve as the series progresses, and maybe they work better as friends or allies rather than romantically involved." The moderator nodded, satisfied with the somewhat vague response.

Pedro's eyes caught yours, puzzled by the subtle shift in your tone, before adding, "But I wouldn't rule that out completely."

He was so infuriatingly annoying.

•••

You were in the same room; circling each other the entire day, but he still missed you so much that a brief moment of broken eye contact sent a deep ache cutting through his chest.

Pedro watched you exit the panel room, knowing that he needed to find a way to talk to you. He called your name, making you stop in your tracks and turn around, your face unreadable. Pedro hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to approach you, before finally blurting out, "Hey, do you have a sec?"

He saw you reluctantly give your PA a nod, motioning for her to leave the both of you alone.

Pedro felt tension slip through him and iron in his spine, and he looked around swiftly to see if anyone was paying attention to them. He spotted a door leading to an empty room and gestured for you to follow him inside. As you both entered the room, Pedro closed the door behind you.

This conversation is inevitable.

Pedro waited for a moment before speaking. "We're working together, and will continue to do so."

"So?" your voice was cold and guarded.

He took a deep breath before continuing, "I think we should try to find a way to make it work."

"I think it's working well enough as it is," you replied, crossing your arms. Pedro couldn't help but laugh at your stubbornness. "Come on, we both know that's not true. You've avoided me all day. People are asking if things are okay between us."

"Isn't that what you wanted, though?"

Pedro shook his head. "What? I never said that."

"You might as well have," you spat back. "Because the way I see it, you don't want anything to do with me." He wanted to reach out, grab your hand and tell you that's not all what he meant but he stopped.

You are being so careful with each other now. It was breaking Pedro’s heart a little.

"That's not true. It drives me crazy when you won’t talk to me,” he muttered. "I…just didn't want to complicate things back then."

"Well, things got complicated the moment we slept together," you reminded him. "And that's on both of us."

Pedro sighed, feeling the weight of the situation. "I know," he said softly. "I'm sorry… I didn't handle that conversation very well. I was…" he can't bring himself to finish the sentence. "I don't know."

"You have a tendency of hurting my feelings, disappearing, and then coming back asking for forgiveness," your words come out measured and unexpectedly calm. Bordering on cold.

It was such a sharp, perfect little sting that it made heat pool in his stomach. It made him want to cry.

He said your name ever so tenderly, a plea in his voice.

"I don't know what you want from me," you say, a defeated tone lacing your words. "I moved on, and yet, you keep coming back, reopening old wounds. It happens every time. I can't keep doing this dance with you."

"Yeah, you moved on," and before he can stop himself, Pedro blurts out, dripping in sarcasm, "Quite fast."

Pedro still remembers the shiver that ran down his spine when he picked up his phone one morning, only to see you parading around with Daniel on social media. The worst part was that he knew he had no one to blame but himself.

You raise an eyebrow, surprised by his response. He could tell it echoed through the small space and grated on your every last nerve.

"Fuck you."

A snarl forms on his face, and his upper lip slightly curls. His anger rising to match your own. "Is that all you have to say?" Pedro's voice is laced with bitterness as he struggles to keep his emotions in check. Your eyes burning through him, the air suffocating.

"I had to move on," you simply reply. "You should try it as well." you slipped past him, bumping into his shoulder as you made your way out of the room, leaving him there, trying to remember why he had convinced himself that everything was safer this way because you were too important to risk losing, when in reality, he had already lost you.

And Pedro tries not to love you. He really tries.

a/n: don't kill me please, i know. their time will come, i just need them to reaaaally go through it.

Reblog or like if you enjoyed it! thank you for reading :)

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

Damian has learned many things since joining the family. He's found joy in Gotham even fighting Rouges and stopping crime he's made more happy memories here than he did while in the league.

Although he will always love his mother and be grateful for everything she has taught him many of those skills have been retired and he can't say he's partically angry about it.

What he's truly enjoyed most is his family Father and Richard, even Todd when he cooks and lets him sketch the alley cats that frequent his terrace.

'So Baby Bat guessing you weren't invited to the brother meeting tonight".

-

The pencil rolls hitting the floor. Jason was half paying attention more focused on the pasta he's stirring.

"I don't understand, what do you mean by that Todd"

Now Jason knows he's not exactly kept up to date on all the family's lovely adventures. But he can't place why Damian's voice is shaking.

Or why his little brother seems so hurt a part of him wants to scoop him up and wrestle his problems back to wherever hell they came from. But something stops him.

"I figured you were here cause of Dickbird and Timmy aren't you" he says carefully.

" Why would Drake and Richard have anything to do with my presence here." He spits, pausing.

"Are they together, Richard said he had something important to do and why would that be with Drake."

"Shit Dami sorry I must have made a mistake on the day it's the 16th not the 23rd my bad. The thing with Timmy is next week photography or something."

"Idiotic as ever Todd I will go back to my drawing now."

Jason would feel more offended at the blatant dismissal if he hasn't just lied.

Because Baby Brothers shouldn't be told that they aren't Dickie birds little Robin always.

That Dick is taking Tim on their weekly getaway to gone only knows where. That always seems to end with blood and death.

That their eldest brother is more fucked up then all of them combined and that only one is trusted enough to see what that means.

That as kind as Dick and even Tim can be they aren't always like that. There angry, vengeful, sadistic little shits that burn as much as they warm.

How's do you explain to the kid who's thinks the sun shines out of someone's ass that they are off galivanting with the favorite brother.

That the kid got off lucky for trying to kill the golden apple.

You don't.

You make food and watch him sketch the cat who's seen almost as many fights at Jason himself.

Ingnore your own twisted jealousy and pretend you wouldn't cut off your own arm if replacement asked.

Because only one Bat is unaware of who's the deadlist of who is lurking in the shadows weaving.

It's not Jason's place and more importantly he can't destroy the very pedestal that Jason still worships.

"Come on Dami, stop bugging the fucking cat and come eat."

Who's he to explain about the brothers who would put each other above all others even their own.

How do you explain that if you weren't practically the son of the last flying Grayson you would be another hidden name on a list more guarded than Bruce's emotions and that you would be rotting six feet under dead at the hands of your beloved Richard.

[queerasfact]

Happy birthday to Alan Turing!

EDIT: This post previously used an incorrect picture of Robert L Hawkins. Thanks to @sigma-science for pointing out our mistake.

Alan was born on the 23rd of June 1912, making him 111 today! A pioneering figure in modern computer science, Alan worked during WWII in Britain’s codebreaking centre, playing a key role in cracking codes that helped the British tin the fight against the Germans.

Alan was prosecuted for homosexuality in 1952, chemically castrated, and subsequently died by suicide in 1954. In 2009, British Prime Minister Gordon Brown formally apologised to Alan, saying, “On behalf of the British government, and all those who live freely thanks to Alan's work I am very proud to say: we're sorry, you deserved so much better.”

[Image: Photograph of Alan Turing, a man with neatly brushed hair wearing a suit and tie - source]

[bloodhoundluke]

you, forever —❦ luke hemmings

pairing: luke hemmings x ex! reader

description: y/n seems to be finally over luke, but what does she do when he shows up declaring his love for her in the pouring rain? this was requested with the prompts #4 "Please don't cry. I can't stand to see you cry” & #2 “Don’t do this to me” from my prompt list.

warnings: luke being a shitty boyfriend, a break up. angst. slight mentions of insomnia and disordered eating. cursing. a happy ending.

word count: 3,5k.

a/n: now that i am happy with this fic, it's time to publish it! the beginning of this story was heavily inspired by the song ‘moment i knew’ by taylor swift. i hope you like this one! ❤️‍🩹

The broken promises, the events unattended. His lame excuses. They grew a dagger in your heart, which stung time and time again. Your 23rd birthday was no exception. 

You hosted a party to celebrate your birthday. You never threw any parties, they weren’t really your scene. Luke was supposed to be there with you, his hands around your waist, wishing you a happy birthday. Against your wishes and his promises, he wasn’t there. Not on time, anyway.  Somehow you thought it’d be different this time. Did he even love you like he claimed he did? Did he even care about you? Hell, you even wondered if he was sleeping with someone behind your back. 

You tried to have fun, you really did. But as the night dragged on and you chugged down way too many tequilas, you bursted into tears in your bathroom. How could someone, your sorry excuse of a boyfriend, make you feel like this on your god-damn birthday?

It was 4am when Luke showed up behind your front door, and you foolishly opened the door for him. The party was over, and you couldn’t even bear to look him in the eye. It was the same old story, I am so sorry baby, we had to work around a few things in the studio. I love you, let me make it up to you. I promise I’ll do better next time. 

You didn’t say a single thing to him as you let him in. Luke went to the bathroom, and as soon as he was out of your sight, tears began streaming down your face. You stood in your kitchen, and looked around. The alcohol-stained balloons, empty beer cans and the remains of confetti reminded you of your relationship with Luke. Sad, broken, bruised.

You sobbed and sobbed, hard enough not to notice Luke walking next to you.

"Please don't cry. I can't stand to see you cry”, he offered you his embrace, which you swore once was warm. And which was something you once wanted more than anything in the world. 

You sobbed against his chest. This was the last straw, you promised yourself. You didn’t want to hear his excuses anymore. You had turned a blind eye to his mistakes, always holding onto some tiny glimmer of hope he would change. You defended him time and time again to your friends and family. You loved him more than you loved yourself, and that seemed to be your greatest mistake. 

“Don’t do this to me”, you whimpered under his touch, still feeling the endless rivers building up in your eyes.  “Do what?”, he proposed the question as if he didn’t have a clue what was going on. His eyebrows frowned, and he bit his bottom lip. You couldn’t believe it really had come to this. You receded from his embrace, breaking the skin contact. 

“Pretend everything’s fine. Pretend we’ll be okay”, you swept your tears away, and saw the mascara stains on your hands. You swept them away with the helm of your dress, and wondered what was going through Luke’s mind. Did he even feel bad for missing your birthday party? Did he even understand how terribly he treated you?

“Y/N…”., he enunciated your name as if it was a warning, if there was some line you couldn’t cross.

“You knew this was doomed from the start. You played me along, Luke. I mean, fuck! I thought everything would change. I thought you loved me enough not to miss my own fuckin’ birthday!”.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it”.

“I’m sorry too”, you avoided direct eye contact with him, and left the kitchen with nothing but disappointment and anger. He didn’t even bother to come after you. 

And that was the moment you knew. 

—❦

The morning approached, and you executed your usual morning routines, only this time with a quicker pace. You could do this, you told yourself. You’ll be okay.

Luke was still sleeping, and you gathered his things from your apartment. The spare t-shirts and underwear. His toothbrush, his Vespa mug. Everything. You wanted to make this as smooth as possible. Not necessarily for him, but for you. You didn’t want him to stay around any longer than necessary. Sleeping with him last night was a mistake, even if you took all the anger into bed with you. You hated and loved him at the same time.

So, when you heard him shuffling in bed, you entered the room and leant against the door with a coffee mug in your hand. 

“Hey darling”, he smirked. The man had no idea. You forced a smile, and waited until he was decent and in his Pink Floyd t-shirt and black sweatpants. 

“Luke?”.

“Hmmm?”.

“I packed up your things, they are waitin’ for you in the hallway. I want you gone. Out of my life”.

—❦ 

The beginning was the hardest. The silent screams in the pillow, the loss of appetite. Your sobs echoed through every room in your apartment. There was no escaping him. His eyes, the prettiest blue eyes you had ever witnessed, haunted you wherever you went. Even the god-damn Rainbow Krispies yelled out his name. 

You carried his silent optimism with you, his voice reminding you everything would work out just fine. You begged the voice to stop time and time again, but it persisted, clung onto you tightly. 

For the first three months you couldn’t even say his name out loud, yet alone hear it coming from someone else’s mouth. It sounded wrong, the way they said it. Luke was supposed to come from your mouth, with your accent, with your tone of voice.

Slowly but surely, you started to see the world through realism-infused glasses. You didn’t think about him the first thing in the morning and the last thing before going to bed. You were okay. You didn’t need his love. Instead, you needed your own. A glimpse of hope was staring at you, you just hadn’t seen it before. 

—❦ 

The past few years had treated you well, and you had gotten the job of your dreams. Everything was moving smoothly, and you were excited for what the future held for you. You were still living in the same apartment, but you had renovated it to look more like you. The white living room walls were now replaced with the beautiful shade of juniper, and your decor had shifted from a Scandinavian style to a more earthly and antique-appreciating English countryside.

You had stayed out of relationships. Sure, you had gone to a few dates, but you never wanted to build anything serious with them. You considered them more like irregular hook-ups, not official dates. You decided to be on your own. You had everything you needed; friends, family and a job you enjoyed.

You were returning from work, and it was pouring rain. You held an umbrella over your head whilst Bon Iver was blasting through your AirPods. Thankfully it was a short walk to your apartment from the metro station.

A figure of a man, supposedly, sat in front of your apartment complex. Maybe he was lost. Maybe he forgot his keys inside. Maybe he was a creep. Shit. You grabbed your umbrella tighter as you reached him. 

And then you understood. Dark pants. A worn out leather jacket. Converse. Light, curly hair. A beautiful face, sculpted by the gods, was staring at you. It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t be.

Luke.

It really was him.

You glared at him, and took your earphones off in shock, placing them in their case. Luke got up from the staircase, and you both stared at each other for a while. 

The rain was pouring down, and the man hadn't even bothered to bring an umbrella with him. He pulled his soaking wet hair back with his hands and you couldn't understand why your ex-boyfriend was voluntarily hanging out in front of your apartment complex, in a weather like this.

“What are you doing here?”, you quivered and held your bag tightly against your body.

“I’m here to get my girl back”, he shoved his hands into his leather jacket pockets, and studied your face with a somewhat melancholic smile on his face.

“What are you talkin’ about?”, you asked, your tone nonchalant.

“I’m here to get you back. Or attempt it, I don’t know. I fucked up, Y/N, big time. And many times. And-”

Didn't he think it was a bit too late for that? “Luke, stop”, you interrupted him. You didn’t want to hear it, he had smashed your heart into pieces. He didn’t get to apologize to you. You didn’t want him to have any power over you. And it wasn’t fair how he showed up and reminded of his existence, just now when you were finally ready to open your heart to someone new. 

“Y/N, please? Hear me out”.

“Fuck you”, you cursed at him, and pondered walking away from him. But you stood in your place, hoping he could see the hurt on your face. 

“Okay, I deserved that. Is there more?”, he tilted his head slightly, and his eyes bored into yours.

“What do you mean?”, you gritted your teeth.

“Just fuckin’ yell at me, get it out of your system. Curse at me, tell me the things you hate about me”.

“If you came here for this, leave…please”, you begged. 

“No, no, no, I didn’t. I’m sorry. Shit. Uh…just give me a second, hear me out”.

“Okay”. You’d hear what he had to say, and then you’d leave him in the pouring rain. And you wouldn’t see him ever again. That was the plan.

“I, I know this might not mean anything to you, after I treated you, but it has always been you, Y/N. After all these years, you are the only one I have ever truly loved. Hell, I still love you. I still remember your favorite songs and the way you like your tea. How you like your eggs in the morning, and how you hate almond milk…And shit, I just, I need to get this off my chest. I am, still, so foolishly in love with you it’s unbearable. I want you, I want us back”.

You looked at him with sorrow in your eyes. When you tried to say something, the words escaped your lips, leaving you powerless.

As tumultuous your and Luke’s relationship was and despite the times you convinced yourself you hated him, you still caught yourself missing him and the relationship sometimes. But this…this felt a bit too much for you to handle right now.

“Say something, please….Anything”.

“I don’t know Luke. I mean, you hurt me. Time and time again. I don’t know if I want to go through that pain again”.

“I know”, he sighed. “Do you still love me?”.

“Despite everything, yes”, you sighed.

“So isn’t it obvious? If you love me, and I love you? Doesn’t that mean we should give it another go?”.

“But sometimes love isn’t enough, Luke. Love doesn’t fix everything, I thought you knew that”.

“I know you are cautious, and I don’t blame you. I put you through hell, I know. And if this makes me sound like a broken record, so be it… I fuckin’ love you, Y/N. I have always loved you. Just you. Nothing will change that. Not even the years in between that I haven’t seen you. Not even the fact that I am not the same person who I was those years ago, when I treated you like shit. When I made you cry every night. I remember it well, Y/N, I haven’t forgotten. It seems you are impossible to forget”.

“I think you are impossible to forget too, Luke”, you sighed again. “I just….I don’t really know what to say to you. I don’t even know what’s going inside my head right now. I…I need a moment to figure everything out”.

“I’ll wait for you”, he promised.

You took quick glances at each other in the rain, and a small smile crept upon Luke’s lips. You were soaking wet, and wanted to go inside. Against all your instincts, you invited him into your apartment.

“Are you sure?”.

“Yeah”.

“Really?”.

“Come on in before I change my mind”.

—❦

Luke hadn't been in your apartment in three years, and his sudden presence in your own space felt a bit nerve-wracking. Only if he saw that you had kept the mugs he once bought you. And his Blink-182 shirt that you never bothered to give him back. And the necklace hanging on the bathroom shelf that he had bought you on your 2nd anniversary.

You had changed to a dry set of clothes, and offered Luke a towel to dry himself up.

Luke sat next to you on your living room couch, as far as he could on the limited space of the two-seater. The silence was unbearable, it was eating you up. You had rehearsed every little thing you would say to him when you’d see him, but now it felt like the thoughts you once had escaped you the very moment you tried to reach them. 

You had offered him tea, and were drinking some chamomile tea yourself. A few candles were burning on the top of your coffee table, next to a pile of books and the coffee mug you had left there this morning. 

Would you really go through this with him again? Was it worth the try? Was it foolish that a small part of you thought it could work out this time? Did he really mean everything he said? Could he support his words with his actions?

“When you said you aren’t the same person you were before, did you mean it?”, you asked, and blew the tea slightly before drinking it. 

“I did”.

“What did you mean by it?”, you placed the tea mug at the top of the coffee table. You looked at the candle burning beside it whilst Luke talked.

“That I’ve grown. I am not a stupid 24 year old anymore, Y/N. I know what’s important in life. I know what kind of man I want to be, and I am trying to reach that everyday”, he explained with a certain softness in his voice. This Luke was patient, calm; not like the passive-aggressive Luke you once knew.

“So growing up has changed you, huh?”, you frowned your eyebrows, and studied his hair, which had been bleached. You liked this look on him, he looked refreshed. And more mature.

“And losing you”.

Your lips parted slightly at the comment and you noticed how he was fiddling with his ring that adorned his left index finger. He still did that. 

“Luke…”, he looked up to you as he heard his name, and you continued, “why didn’t you fight for me?”.

The narrative in your head that you had created through the years was that he didn’t love or care about you enough. That he had lied to you every time you went to bed, when he whispered those three little words to you. 

“Because I knew you deserved something better. It was the right thing for me to do'', he offered you a sad smile.

You swallowed loudly, his words getting a hold of you. You were fighting off the tears, not wanting to show Luke how much it was still hurting. 

“But now, I know, or fuckin’ desperately hope I am the man you deserve”.

“Do you really think it could work out this time? Us?”.

“Yes.”

“How can you be so sure?”.

“‘Cause I am a stupidly huge hopeless romantic, I suppose”, he let out a small chuckle. Your lips curved into a smile, “And let me guess, you’re stupidly, hopelessly in love with me?”.

“You took the words out of my mouth”, he chuckled as you chuckled along with him. You had missed this. Hearing his adorable laughter. And laughing with him, hearing the sounds of your laughter blending in together like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“If we do this, hypothetically, of course, we should take it slow. Like extra slow?”.

”Yeah, of course. We wouldn’t want to rush a good thing, would we?”.

You smiled at his words, pleased with the fact he was on the same page as you. You would have never guessed, not even in a million years, that you’d discuss rekindling your old flame with the man that once tore up your heart. And that something inside you told you to trust him this time around. 

”Luke?”.

”Tell me”.

”I’ve missed you”, you confessed as if it was a sin, something you shouldn’t say out loud. Something that you could be punished for. 

”I’ve missed you too, Y/N”.

Something in you, some unimaginable force, wanted to throw yourself into his arms, and kiss him like you had never been apart. 

You could feel the tears forming in your eyes, and as you looked how soft and angelic Luke looked next to you, the tears began to stream down your face.

”Hey, hey… what’s going on, sweetheart?”, he inched towards you, and like a magnetic pull, you closed the gap between you. The proximity didn’t make you nervous, it felt like something that was bound to happen.

”I just..uh, fuck… I don’t know”, you managed to answer through the tears, ”Can you… hold me?”. He nodded, opened his arms and you placed your head against his beating chest. He wrapped his arms around you and your sobs grew more silent. He fondled your arm with his other hand, and you felt his face squished against your shoulder.

”Feeling better?”.

”Yeah. I’m sorry, I was just a bit overwhelmed, I guess”.

”Don’t worry about it. I get it”, he still stroked your arm gently, comforting you just the way you needed.

It all started to make sense. His light stubble against your bare shoulder, your black tank top perfectly matching with his, your steadily beating heart. 

You backed away from his embrace, the sides of your legs still touching one another. You sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, your fingers playing along with his, until Luke cleared his throat. 

”My mom asked about you the other day, by the way. Well, she didn’t really ask, I suppose, but she wished you were doing good. She loves you, y’know. You always knew how to make her laugh. And she loved how you used to watch The Bachelor with her, now no one wants to do it. And gosh, she never stops complaining about that, I mean -”

You pressed your tear-infused lips on Luke’s, and it took him a while to figure out what hell was going on, and when did, he brushed his lips softly against yours. His hands moved to hold your face and you placed your own behind the back of his neck. You started to grin into the kiss, you couldn’t help it, and soon realized Luke was doing the same as your teeth clashed along with his. A few giggles escaped both of your mouths, and you could practically feel the blood rushing through your veins. Luke closed the small gap between your lips, and for a while, you sat there in each other’s proximity.

”I want to try again, Luke”, you looked deeply into his baby blue eyes and found a sense of comfort in them.

”I want to do that too.. not like it was obvious or something”, he giggled. You loved his sudden nervousness, it was adorable. A large grin spread across your face, and faded as soon as you remembered the reality of your and Luke’s situation. Like you said it yourself, love doesn’t fix anything, not on its own. Did you and Luke have what it takes to make your relationship work again?

”How do we do… this?”.

”I don’t think there’s a manual for this, but we’ll figure it out together”, he kissed your temple.

So you promised each other you’d do everything in your power to make your relationship work again. That night you made up for the lost time, and talked about everything that had been going on in each other’s lives. You babbled about your work, and he listened to you like your voice was his favorite sound. He showed you his tattoos which he had gotten, and the lotus quickly became your favorite. You shared your traveling stories, and he told you what it was like to be on tour. And when you got emotional about missing him for so long, he got emotional too. And suddenly you were sobbing against each other, your legs entangled with his and his lips brushing over yours.

And when you woke up the next morning, with Luke’s arm hanging around your torso, you knew you had made the right choice.

© 2023 bloodhoundluke.

[myosotisa]

Old Heart - Part 4 - Build

‖ chapter summary: Following the destruction of Memphis, you and Eddie make your way to the spot where he is set to hand you off for the final leg of your journey to Colorado.

‖ tags: enemies to lovers, age gap (41 and 25), forced proximity, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, HEA, "zombie" apocalypse, reader uses she/her pronouns, no y/n, no physical description given, minors dni

‖ chapter warnings: grief and the tumultuous emotions included. abandonment issues. mentions of untreated terminal illness (cancer). implied/referenced suicide (very implied, not graphic). animal death and using it in a meal. also alcohol.

‖ word count: 11k

‖ prev ‖ ao3 ‖ masterlist ‖ tag list request ‖ next ‖

August 18th through 23rd, 2016 – somewhere in Arkansas

You only make the mistake of asking Eddie to talk about Memphis twice.

The first time was Thursday night after the two of you had settled into a place to sleep that seemed secure enough for both of you to sleep through the night. He’d assisted you with changing the bandages on your wound with the supplies him and Max had managed to scrape together while you had been catatonic. It was vague – more of an offer that if he wanted to talk to you about it, you were there for him. He’d bitten back with a harsh retort that there was nothing to talk about before rolling over and pretending to go to sleep.

Progress had been slow as you trekked across the state together due to your injury. You felt tired faster, found yourself pushing to keep going until you got so dizzy you almost fell over, then had to take a rest before you did the same thing all over again. Eddie never once complained about the pace but you could tell the sitting and waiting for you to be ready to move again was weighing on him. He would anxiously pace while you sat, or make an excuse about going to make sure the perimeter was clear and disappearing for 15 minutes at a time. The first leg of your trip he was standoffish and closed off but, ever since Max left, he’s been fully avoidant. Not wanting to get into situations where he would have time to stop and think.

Running away from silence and stillness like he had a bounty on his head.

When you ask again if he wants to talk about anything that happened in Memphis, he doesn’t snap. He barely responds at all. He sits there in the moonlight with one leg kicked out and the other bent up with his arms crossed on it. There’s a far off look in his eye despite his gaze being firmly settled on his boot. Dark shadows are cast along his features that make the circles under his eyes seem more sunken and his jawline more defined. A shadow of himself in the dark.

“Who’s Sally?”

The question catches you off guard, your legs crossing under you as you lean back against a dusty bookshelf in the dark room. “Sorry?”

“When we were leaving Louisville, you told–” His voice is soft and ragged – it catches on the word and he has to clear his throat to keep going. “You told Dustin to ‘get home safe to Sally.’ I didn’t know he was seeing anyone.”

You’re not able to contain the amused snort that forces itself out of your nose and you notice that the silhouette of his head whips toward you in response. Quick to explain, you tell him, “Sally is a German Shepherd. She lives on the farm with Dustin and Will.”

“Ah,” is his short response. You think maybe that will be the end of it but a few moments later he’s talking again. “His mom was a cat lady. He liked the cats, but I always kinda got the feeling he was a dog person. So that’s, uh… That’s nice to hear.”

“Yeah, he’s obsessed with her. Talked about her almost as much as you on the trip there.”

This makes him huff, a quick exhale of breath. You wish you could see his face – figure out if that was a good noise or a bad one. For not the first time, you find yourself wishing you knew what he was thinking.

“I had a cat for a little while.”

His confession has you suddenly on the edge of your seat and you struggle to rein yourself in. Try not to think about how excited it makes you to hear him let a little fact about himself like that slip free. Carefully, keeping your tone neutral like you’re trying not to spook a wild animal, you ask, “Oh yeah? What was their name?”

You’re surprised when he actually answers. “My uncle named her Mimzy. Stupid fuckin’ name,” he complains, though it comes out through a chuckle. “Then again, the cat was dumb as a brick so I guess the punishment fit the crime.” You spend a few moments considering if you should ask more questions to try to keep him talking but he does so on his own. “She lived under our trailer when I was in high school. Was just fur and bone when I started throwing scraps outside for her to eat. ‘Course she stuck around after that. Even though I was the one who started feeding her, she always preferred Wayne. Would rub all over his legs when he got back from the plant in the morning after ignoring me all night. Though she was a fan of mine for a while when I saved her dumbass while trying to fight a raccoon.”

Still not quite sure how to handle this situation in which Eddie is willingly talking about himself, you fall back on humor. “Trying to fight a raccoon is a rookie mistake. They have fully functioning fingers. A cat stands no chance.”

This time the huff he lets out is definitely amused and you find yourself warming under the approval. “I’m just glad she didn’t get rabies or something from the thing.”

While it feels a bit like pushing your luck, you take another metaphorical step closer by offering up some bits of your own. “We had a dog when I was a kid. Yappy little terrier named Lola.” He doesn’t move to interrupt you so you push your luck a little further. “I was always more of a cat person but my dad fucking hated them for some reason, so I was never allowed to have one.”

“Didn’t get one when you had the chance?” He asks, and it makes you hesitate.

Not sure if he forgot how young you were or if he meant something else, you are reluctant to remind him. Despite the worry that it's the wrong move, you still awkwardly answer. “Well, I was only 13 when everything went to shit. And they didn’t want animals on the base so… No.”

Silence falls like a blanket of thick snow. It feels fuzzy and heavy. You immediately try to figure out how you can reel the words back into your mouth, say literally anything else that would keep him talking. Keep the silence from creeping in like hands around your throat.

“I forgot,” he’s borderline whispering now and you can barely hear it over the buzzing in your ears. “Can’t imagine how fucked up it was to go through that as a kid.”

You shrug even though he can’t see it, feeling that captive piece of you starting to pace behind its bars again, looking for the first sign of weakness to lunge. “About as fucked as it was for everyone else, I guess.”

“Yeah… Guess so.” The moment sits heavy on you both before the sound of leather on polyester hisses in the empty air. There’s a lot of shuffling from his side of the room and you see the shadows of him settling down on his sleeping bag. You take that as your sign that he’s done talking.

A small part of you thinks about telling him goodnight. You decide to stop while you’re ahead.

The next 3 nights go similarly. When you’ve both found some abandoned place to sleep, he helps you change your bandages. Looks out for signs of it getting infected and lets you know if it seems to be healing or not. When your cobbled together sling gives out, he rips apart his white overshirt to make you a new one despite your protests that you can manage without. Once your arm is settled and you’ve both eaten at least a little bit of something, you start talking. Not much, maybe 15 minutes to half an hour. But those sacred minutes allow you to learn more little facts about Eddie. Never anything related to Memphis or life during the pandemic. It’s all things from before.

He had the same flannel shirt in 3 different colors because he just really liked how it looked on him. A part of him always wanted to get into fixing up motorcycles in his free time. He also used to enjoy drawing and playing fantasy games with his friends. He learned to play guitar when he was a kid from an old 6 string that his uncle had but never used. 90% of his tattoos were from before, only two being added to the mix over the last 13 years. Not for lack of wanting – more like lack of resources and not trusting those who had set up “shops” these days to do stick and pokes. On that note, his first two tattoos were stick and pokes he did himself in high school.

You drank all the information like sugar water for a fly – desperate to be filled even if it wasn’t the way you were hoping it would be. Even if it didn’t end anywhere, even if it didn’t help either of you. It was something.

In a world where everything felt like a luxury, vulnerability was the rarest among them.

Evening of August 23rd, 2016 – Three Corners, Cherokee Nation, Oklahoma

The last hour or so of your hike through the middle of nowhere has been dirt roads and wooden fences that barely remain standing on the dusty roadsides. While you have questioned him once or twice, Eddie is determined that he knows exactly where he’s going. That he’s made this trip before, could do it blindfolded. And, with the sun quickly sinking toward the western horizon, all you can do is hope he’s right.

As you kick your way through orange dirt roads covered with rocks and tree limbs, the ruined fencing to your right starts to slowly be replaced with newer wood – better maintained and more sturdy. Further beyond, the wooden beams are replaced by a chain link fence that rises a foot or two above your head. This looks even newer, barely rusted and without any cuts or weak points. Despite being far from anything you would even attempt to call civilization, it seems that you are getting closer to something someone is caring for.

You don’t realize that you’re lagging behind, distracted and exhausted, until Eddie looks back over his shoulder. “We’re almost there, Bambi. Just a little farther.”

Not sure if he means to be encouraging or condescending, you decide to take the opportunity to talk again. Maybe if you can focus on that instead of your sore muscles and swollen arm, you can pass the rest of the time easily. “Y’know, calling me Bambi is kind of fucked up.”

He stops, slowly turning toward you with concern and confusion on his brow. He waits for you to catch up before continuing on with you in step. “How exactly is it fucked up?”

“Y’know, because both of my parents are dead now.”

He chokes on air, a hacking laugh forcing itself out of his throat. His eyes are shining with a certain mischief in them, one you haven’t seen since Memphis. “First of all, that’s so fucking dark, Bambi.” You blink at him a few times, not understanding exactly what he means. He continues on, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Second of all, I don’t know if you noticed, but a lot of people’s parents are dead.”

You scoff, shaking your head and looking back out to the road as you murmur, “Asshole.”

“Third of all,” he continues, ignoring your retort, “I’m pretty sure we started calling you Bambi because you’re going out into the world for the first time on your shaky legs; eyes wide and unsure. Not because your parents are dead.”

The realization hits you harshly, suddenly embarrassed for your own morbid assumption. “Oh,” is all you muster, teeth clenching as you try to shake off the fumble. “I am not on shaky legs. I’ve been in the world this whole time, same as everyone.”

“Sorry, but I don’t think your tall ivory walls of government protection count as ‘out in the world’.” He goads, almost sounding pleased with himself. Either not at all catching on to how the assertion frustrates you, or not caring that it does. “We didn’t all get our 3 square meals a day or access to clean water whenever we wanted it.”

The boil in your blood mounts higher – hotter than it’s ever been in his direction. While at the beginning of your journey, you’d been annoyed with his attitude toward you, this is entirely different. This is him taking a knife to where it hurts and twisting it just to watch you bleed. White hot blood you’re quick to spit back.

Your tone is barely contained fire and steam when you say a resolute, “Fuck. You.”

He looks almost like he wants to laugh until he glances in your direction and sees the look on your face. Subconsciously, he shifts another inch away from you, swallowing harshly as he stuffs his hands back into the pockets of his jacket. “Sore spot. Got it.”

The acknowledgement that his comments hurt you does little to smother the flames clawing up your throat, but you leash your tongue and use them to propel you forward instead. Settling into a tense silence that could last 5 minutes or an hour. It’s hard to tell with the rate the sun continues to sink down onto the horizon and the grasslands surrounding you remain unchanging.

Luckily, the fuming is interrupted by Eddie using his long legs to his advantage and crossing over in front of you to grasp at what you’ve just noticed is a gate in the chain link fence. He fights with the chain wrapping the gate closed for a few moments before he manages to prop it open far enough for you both to squeeze through. You pass first, crossing from a dirt road to what can only be described as worn down tire tracks in the grass. It arcs forward and toward the left, disappearing behind a small grove of trees.

“Is this it?” You ask over your shoulder, glancing back as Eddie once again wrangles the thick chain back into place. “Three Corners?”

“Yup, just up the drive.” He exhales a huff as soon as the chain is back in place. Looking at you with an emotion behind his eyes that you can’t determine, he clears his throat and sets into following the path again. “End of the road. For me, at least.”

The startling realization that this is the end of your journey with Eddie hits you unexpectedly. Twists your gut in a way it didn’t when the handoff happened with Dustin. That you had always known was temporary, a means to an end. Just like this was supposed to be.

When had you lost grasp on that?

Oblivious to your internal struggle, Eddie treks ahead, the call of a place to rest and get clean too enticing to let wait any longer. He’s already disappeared around the bend of the trees before you even catch sight of the property.

First, there’s a light blue walled barn, looking only a little bit worse for wear. More like seasoned in the Oklahoma winds. Two of its off-white, rolling doors are shut, the third opened to a room lined with what looks like workbenches – but it’s hard to tell exactly what in the growing shadows of dusk.

Second, you spot a house. One story, laid out wide rather than tall, and organized with mismatched windows and shutters. The walls are painted the same sky blue as the barn, with white trim and a beige slatted roof that is missing more than a few shingles. The roof extends over a small porch, just big enough to fit the door and 2 rocking chairs, and ends in a copper rooster that slowly rotates back and forth in the light wind.

The front door is wide open, presumably from Eddie, and shows only shadows of what is happening on the inside. You hover there in the open space in front of the house, not sure what to do, until you hear Eddie’s voice calling out.

“Hey! Anyone home?” He barely pauses before continuing, his voice getting closer as he goes. “Jeff? … Ama? … Anyone?”

He reappears from the shadows of the house, crossing back through the threshold with a sharp crease of concern between his eyebrows and his mouth set in a thin line. “Hey, you out here?” He continues, long legs carrying him to the barn next, where he once again disappears into the shadows you’re not yet brave enough to venture into. “Jeff? Ahuli?”

The sound of a creaky metal hinge rings out toward you in the open space, echoing out into the quickly darkening sky. Determining your hesitancy in this unknown space is less important than your desire to sit down, you suffer the last few steps to one of the rocking chairs on the porch, tossing your pack to the ground before throwing yourself onto the seat, almost falling backwards with the force of your exhaustion.

Eddie comes back out into the open, hands on his hips as he makes a slow circle to search around the area within view. Leaning forward on your elbows to contain the sudden urge to melt into the ground, you tilt your chin up toward him as he stops to face you. “Looks like no one's home.”

“Yeah, which…” He takes a few steps closer, dust coated face still wrinkled in concern. “They knew we were coming, maybe not this soon but… I don’t know where they would even go.”

“Maybe they left a note or something,” you suggest, wanting just a few minutes to sit and not worry about what was going to happen next. Wanting a few minutes to just rest. “Could look around the house or – maybe they said something to someone over the radio?”

His expression drops from worry to something that looks a bit like despair when he turns back toward the open workshop door. “I should… Let them know we’re here. Tell them what happened.”

But he doesn’t move an inch. Just stares at the steadily growing shadows of the empty barn. Like if he doesn’t go over there, he won’t have to say it. Won’t have to relive it and remember it.

This is something you can’t run from.

You push yourself to your feet, almost numb at this point of exhaustion, and walk past him toward the barn. Without looking back, you hear him get moving behind you, following you as you approach the structure and cross the threshold. Straw softens your step over concrete floors, making your footfall near silent as you venture further into the darkness.

Try to ignore the fear, shake off the urge to reach for your gun or your flashlight. You’re safe here, you’re safe here, you’re safe here–

A short sound comes from behind you and then the room is bathed in harsh white light, nearly blinding in its sudden appearance. You squeeze your eyes shut for a few moments before slowly blinking them back open.

Two of the walls of the room are fully lined with wooden table tops, drawers and random scraps littering the spaces beneath. It looks almost like some kind of machine workshop – drills, hammers, pliers, wiring, and more scattered across the wood between tools and small machines. Most of it you couldn’t even hope to recognize, but as you slowly turn to scan more of the space, you see Eddie approaching what definitely looks like a radio receiver. There are wires all over, some disappearing behind the workbench it sits on and others loosely arching toward the ceiling and through a cutout. Homemade antenna?

He flicks it to life with ease, a burst of static echoing out along the space before settling into a stable hum of sound. Lowering into a crouch, he has to get pretty close to the dial as he adjusts the frequency, like he can’t see the numbers well. You’re about to offer to help him when he drops his hand and straightens up with a groan.

It tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop it. “Careful old man, or you’ll throw your back out.”

Bracing for him to lash back with something mean, you’re surprised when he snorts a laugh out of his nose, shaking his head lightly before throwing a glance back at you and saying, “Bite me.”

And maybe it’s the smirk on his face, or your exhaustion, or your life falling to pieces around you, but you somehow decide that the way you want to reply to that is, “When and where?”

This time he fully looks at you, eyebrows raised in utter surprise, his smile growing and shifting sideways as your face heats in embarrassment. “Yeah, Bambi?”

“Shut up,” you mutter to his teasing, dragging a tall stool across the straw floor to sit beside him. He is still looking at you, a sharp glint to his eye that makes you feel like a mouse being cornered by a cat. “Just radio in,” you try to order, but it comes out more like a plea.

“Whatever you say,” he concedes with a sly smile, pulling the receiver up to his mouth and pressing down on the button. The static hum cuts out as he says, “Hawk’s Nest, come in. I repeat, Hawk’s Nest, come in.”

The moment he lifts his finger, the static cuts back in. Neither of you move, almost not even breathing, as you wait for a response. Eddie, showing more impatience than you, tries again. “Hawk’s Nest, this is Crow, do you read me?”

When he releases the switch again, you dip slightly forward to look at his profile. “Crow? You have call signs?”

He groans, eyes rolling back into his head. “Yeah, and it’s all bird-themed shit. Blame your fucking sister.”

“Ah, Robin, figures.”

“Pain in my ass,” he reaffirms, but the small smile that remains on his face betrays him. He lifts the receiver again like he’s about to repeat when the static crackles a few times – waving between a very high and low pitch before a static tinted voice cuts in.

“Crow, this is Hawk’s Nest. Read you loud and clear.”

“Thank Christ,” he sighs out before pressing down the switch again. “Crow reporting package arrival at drop 3.”

Annoyance prickles at the base of your skull again, ready to snark back about not being a fucking package but the voice you still don’t recognize cuts back in. “Package arrival heard, will relay.”

He barely waits a second before jumping in again. “Drop 3 handoff incomplete, receiver not present. Any report?”

It all sounds so incredibly vague and short form – like if you didn’t know exactly what was going on you wouldn’t be able to make heads or tails of any of it. That’s probably the point actually, that anyone listening in would have almost no idea what they were talking about.

There’s some additional crackling, a longer pause before the voice cuts back in. “Nothing noted. Standby at drop 3, will report back at 1500 hours tomorrow.”

“Heard,” he confirms and releases the switch. You wonder if he’ll leave it there, not mention anything about Memphis or Max or any of it. It’s almost like he’s tempted to, because he looks over at you with a hard tension in his jaw. You’re not sure why, if there is something he wants you to say or do. If there is some kind of encouragement you could give him, some comfort you could provide.

Nothing feels right to say. So instead you heave a deep breath, wounded arm protesting as your chest expands, and exhale long. Whether consciously or not, Eddie mimics the motion, shoulders rising and falling as he exhales out through his mouth and then presses down on the switch again. “Hawk’s Nest, additional intel for the line.”

A few seconds of hum before the voice replies, “Ready for the line.”

From your point of view, you can see Eddie rest his free hand on the table top, head falling forward as his eyes squeeze closed. His lips twist in a grimace, head rocking back and forth a few times, before he brings the receiver back up to his mouth.

“Memphis QZ is gone. I repeat, Memphis QZ is gone.”

This time you do hold your breath while you wait – heart pounding in your ears loud enough to drown out the static hum as you stare into the black coated machine. The silence stretches on way too long, the longest pause you’ve heard since the conversation began. You almost have to inhale just to keep from passing out, lungs groaning in protest, before the two of you hear a reply.

“Heard, will relay. Status on Flycatcher?”

A sigh out of his nose before he replies. “Headed your way, arrival unknown.”

Another, shorter pause. “Heard, will relay. Standby for 1500 report. Over and out.”

He sets the receiver down with a heavy hand, raises the other to flick the radio back off. Both hands on the table again, he exhales shakily as he hangs his head.

You don’t move or say a word until he does. Allowing him that moment to collect himself, if nothing else.

Slowly, he rolls his shoulders back to his full height, posture squaring off as he takes a step back from the table.

“Come on,” he requests softly, “let’s go clean up, change your bandages. Get something to eat.”

You follow him out of the barn, light flicking off behind you, across the red tinted dirt circle between the barn and the house, and into the shadows within.

August 24th, 2016 – Three Corners, Cherokee Nation, Oklahoma

Last night, Eddie showed you around a bit. They had an outdoor shower with a water heater, a working toilet and sinks, a small fridge, a wood stove. Electricity and hot water. And beds. Both of you would be able to get your own bed.

You’d awkwardly turned down his assistance on getting clean, insisting you’d be really careful with your arm. He let you go first – when you re-emerged from the wooden enclosure of the shower, there was a little bundle of clean clothes waiting for you. By the time you got inside, there was a small (but warm) meal prepared. He was already halfway done with his, and when he finished, he insisted on changing your bandages again despite your reassurance you could do it.

After making sure you were clean, bandaged, and fed, he told you where you could find a bed and went out to take his own shower. You washed the dishes as well as you could with one fully functioning hand and tucked yourself into bed before he even came back inside.

This domesticity felt unnerving. His care felt unnatural. It was different from the apartment in Memphis. This was the home of a family of four, with kids toys and art and pictures and everything. And, despite it only being the two of you, Eddie watching out for you, taking care of you, putting you first… It was overwhelming and uncomfortable and felt unsafe.

Somehow, laying alone in the dark child’s room, in clothes that weren’t yours and in the silence. It was worse than anything.

You couldn’t fall asleep until you heard Eddie come back inside and close the door to the room beside you.

When you wake up, there’s sunlight coming in through the opaque curtains, a soft yellow cast across the homemade quilt you had pulled up to your ears. As you slowly shift it down to your waist, dust starts to kick up and dance along the beams into the room. Making the blues and greens of the bedding and the child-drawn artwork look almost pastel. And while part of it was comforting, imagining a kid who still got to have a room like this – live a life like this – there were a lot of other feelings that came up. Feelings you weren’t ready to face this early in the morning.

Instead, you get up and get dressed to go find some water.

Your door is barely open an inch before you hear something going on in the kitchen, the scrap of wood against metal and the clink of a glass. Not sure if maybe the homeowners had returned while you were out, and you were now about to meet them, you walk as quietly as you can to the end of the hallway that leads to the rest of the house.

The only person you can see is Eddie with his back to you.

He’s standing in front of the wood stove in a tank top and sweatpants, bare feet on the uneven tile flooring, long hair down and haphazardly placed on either side of his shoulders. The scars along his arms are on show, allowing you a better glance as you slowly approach from behind. His right arm isn’t too bad, a vague slash mark here or there, along with a couple of black ink tattoos scattered across the skin. There’s a healed over bullet graze at the top of his right bicep, the skin indented and slightly puckered pink. Probably somewhat similar to how your own arm will heal.

His left has larger patches of scar tissue, a big section on his forearm and a few other spots as it goes up his arm. They almost look like burn scars – the skin damaged and discolored but healed over. It’s the same texture of the scar on his side you saw last week, also on the left. He must’ve been in some kind of accident with flames or maybe some kind of chemical. 

You wonder if he’d tell you what it was if you asked.

The closer you get, you can see there’s some small bowls on the counter beside him and one of them is stacked high with brown spotted eggs. He has a cast iron pan over the crackling fire and scraping at the yellow liquid inside it to scramble them.

Without otherwise announcing yourself, you ask him, “Are these fresh eggs?”

He nearly screams, wooden spatula going flying and almost losing the pan too as he jumps away from you. “Jesus Christ, Bambi,” he gasps, running a hand through his hair before dropping it on his heaving sternum, “Are you trying to scare me to death?”

“No,” but your mischievous smile heavily implies you’re not exactly upset about the outcome. “Where’d you get the eggs?”

He glares at you while shuffling back to the front of the stove. He still sounds a little out of breath when he replies, “Ama has a henhouse out back, takes care of them. Tries to keep them out of the garden.” He points toward another wooden bowl that has 2 small pears, some leaves of lettuce, and a single shoot of green onion.

“Holy shit.” The fresh, home grown food nearly brings tears to your eyes – brushing past his back to take one of the small, green pears and hold it up in the sunlight to examine it. “I mean the food, the animals, the water, the electricity… How do they keep it all going out here?”

“The reservation was already making attempts to be self-sustainable before the pandemic hit. Their own power grid, water collection, the works.” He continues to cook while he explains, scraping the bottom of the cast iron to keep the eggs from sticking as he watches it carefully. “After everything went to shit, they fast tracked it. Jeff and Ama were living in the city and moved back to her parents' place to help them. Her folks died a couple years ago so then it was just them and their two kids. Jeff is a mechanical engineer and Ama is a fuckin’ genius in general so they made this into the best compound someone could ask for in an apocalypse.”

Looking over the house, you couldn’t help but agree. The stable fencing, communication, their own food and water. Depending on how they sourced the power, they could probably stay out here for who knows how long and the only thing they might need to worry about is bandits. Even then, there’s not much around. A bandit group would have to be really lost to end up here.

“That’s… amazing. I honestly didn’t think it was possible to still be living like this. Anywhere.”

But then again, I thought that about Memphis too.

He hums an agreement as he scrapes the eggs out of the pan and onto two plates. “Yeah. I know they are still in touch with other families around. Maybe they are out helping one of them with something.” He nudges his elbow against your arm, pointing for you to grab the other bowl of greens and bring it over to the table with him. “There was a ton of feed in the henhouse, like they prepped to be gone for a little while.”

You follow his lead in setting the bowls on the circular table in the center of the room before taking a seat to his right. “Well that’s a good sign, isn’t it? That they were prepared to not be here?”

He hums as he settles into his chair, the wood groaning as he leans too far back in it. “I guess so. I just hope Will has something to tell us at noon.”

Laying out a piece of lettuce, he makes a sort of egg wrap with bits of green onion before taking a bite right out of his pear. “So Hawk’s Nest, that’s Will? He mans the radios out on the farm with Dustin?”

“Mhmm,” he confirms as he finishes chewing, eyes locked on his plate like he doesn’t know where to go next. “With Sally, apparently.”

Long fingers wrap around his wrap and bring it up to his mouth with a crunch, so you pick up a fork and start to spear into your own warm eggs. Unseasoned but still warm and fresh. A hundred times better than the powdered egg stuff they made back at Quantico. Even just having a warm meal settles you in a way you hadn’t anticipated, relaxing further into your seat as your eyes close.

When you open them again, you’re struck by the sight of Eddie. The sun coasts in through an uncurtained window – bathing him and the table in bright morning light. His slightly frizzy hair, greys visible, is pulled to one side, showing off the length of his neck and the broadness of his shoulders. The scruff along his jaw has only gotten thicker, salt and pepper across weathered skin, almost enough to hide the scar on his chin. There’s a tattoo of a dragon along his bicep, a slashed scar of white right through its abdomen, and a swarm of bats on his forearm. His hands are clean, maybe cleaner than you’ve ever seen them and you find yourself thinking that he looks good like this.

This is a different person from the Eddie you first met. The wolf in denim and leather who is intimidating, unapproachable, someone you wouldn’t want to get in a fight with. With the sharp glares beneath aviators and sharper remarks against anything you had to say. This is a man who has seen terrible things – done terrible things – and now gets to rest. A safe place where he can just live. Not be constantly fighting to survive.

If only he would sit around long enough to enjoy it.

The two of you finish your breakfast and clean up the dishes. Eddie roots through closets and cupboards until he finds a jacket that will fit you (since they tore yours apart to make a sling), a corduroy coat in a forest green that probably wouldn’t stand up well in the elements but keeps you warm nonetheless. He helps you slide it up one arm and hang it over your other shoulder. Your arm is still in your makeshift sling at his request, insisting it would be better to take it off in another day or two.

After that, he explains he’s going to go check the trap line Jeff normally has set up, see if there is anything caught so the two of you might be able to eat some fresh meat tonight. You offer to go with him, to try to help, but he’s quick to deny.

While he says something about your arm and wanting you to rest since it’s still healing, you get the feeling he just wants to be alone for a while. So you watch him re-emerge from one of the bedrooms down the hall in his jeans, boots, red and black tie dye shirt, and his leather jacket before walking out the door with a promise to be back before 3pm for Will’s call.

Leaving you to your own devices.

At first you snoop around the house, trying to bide time. Walk the walls like an art gallery – seeing old and faded photos of families, women in calico tear dresses and men in their ribbon shirts. Newer photos of people gathered in churches, an older man and his three kids all climbing on a pasture gate. 

Closer to the fridge, there is a set of three polaroid photos. The top is a family of four sitting on the porch of this house, a man and a woman sitting on the steps with a boy and a girl posing between them. The boy is older, looks almost 7, and the girl looks about 5, with his black pigtail braids draped over her shoulders. The other two are each centered on one of the kids; a shot of the boy with a stripe of grease on his cheek and holding some kind of contraption in his palms with a huge smile, the name ‘Ahuli’ written in cursive underneath, and a shot of the girl sitting on top of the father’s shoulders, her hair wild and windswept as she appears to scream out with laughter, the name ‘Tay’ written in cursive beneath.

This must be Jeff, Ama, and their kids. All living out here on this land. These were kids born after everything fell apart. A family created in utter tragedy. There’s something bittersweet about it all. These kids… This is the only world they know. A world ravaged by man eating man and fungus that takes over your body, pilots your muscles and tendons, and leaves you aware. Cities were destroyed and millions of people died and society collapsed. They don’t even really know it. They’ve probably been told, at least some of it. But they don’t have any idea of what it was before – don’t have anything to miss. This is what they have, have always had. A safe home with a happy family.

The chained creature roars in agony, jaws snapping at the bars like it will tear free and take out its anger on them, on their happiness. Roars for you to grab the polaroids and tear them to pieces, to destroy, to light fire to it all. Burn it to the ground.

You go for a walk.

Slip on your boots with some difficulty and just start walking. Past the outdoor shower, the light clucking of the henhouse behind, and out into the grass beyond. Going until you reach the edge of the fence line and then follow along it, looking out for anything that catches the eye. There are a few horses grazing on the property, a single cow with its calf in the acres beyond the fence. Birds flit by overhead and the drying grass shifts as small creatures scurry far away from you.

You’re not sure how long you walk but the sun beats down, along your shoulders and a sweat breaks out. The breeze keeps you from being miserable but you’re still definitely getting sunburnt along your cheekbones. You’d think after days and days of walking, you’d want to do anything but that. But this feels different. It’s peaceful and relaxing. You’re not on edge, listening to every sound and searching for any sign that something or someone is coming after you. Somehow, your body has gotten the message that you are safe (for the most part) within this chain link fence, allowing some portion of your guard down. So you walk and listen to the birds without constantly looking over your shoulder.

Somewhere toward the back acreage, you intercept Eddie on his way back to the house with a string connecting two dead animals hung over his shoulder. He looks surprised to see you but gives an awkward little wave, waiting along the fence until you get there. “Dinner?” You ask, free hand stuck in the pocket of your coat as you look over the furry animals hanging from him, one on his front and one on his back.

“Dinner,” he confirms with a small smile, adjusting the line holding the animals together before you set off back toward the house together. “I can skin ‘em easy enough, and make sure they’re cooked through, but can’t guarantee it’ll taste very good.”

“If you skin them, I can cook them. While I was snooping around the house, I found some bone broth and other stuff. Should be able to make something edible at least.”

His head tilts toward you, eyebrows raised slightly. “You know how to cook?”

“Yup,” you keep your eyes forward, across the waving prairie grass and toward the outcropping of trees that hides the house and barn. “My mom taught me. She used to work in the mess hall on the base.”

He audibly swallows beside you, a nervous pause before he asks, “When, uh… How long ago did she… pass?”

“Eight years, I think. 2008ish. I think it was summer.” Your voice remains surprisingly steady as you explain. “I still don’t even really know what happened. My dad just came home one day and told me she was gone. I was 17, old enough to be more aware of stuff, but it still felt like he was protecting me from something.” You kick at a stone that caught the tip of your toe in the tall grass, eyes on your dusty boots. “Guess now I’ll never know.”

You cross another 15 feet or so before he replies. “One of the shittier parts of keeping secrets. Once you’re gone, they’re gone too.”

You huff a small laugh, gazing ahead at the trees as you continue to inch closer. “He says as a man overflowing with secrets.”

“There’s a difference between not knowing someone and being ‘filled with’ secrets,” he points out, almost defensively.

“Oh yeah,” you roll your eyes, “because you’re an open book.”

He quiets down again, the silence growing more tense than before. When you finally glance over, you see him looking straight ahead, a muscle in his jaw rolling with tension. Despite your desire to say something else and lessen the sudden distance between you, you decide to let him sit in that. Stew in it even. Like maybe if you reflect that mirror right back at him, he’ll see something.

Maybe something will change for him. Even if you’re not going to be around to see it.

The rest of the walk is quiet as you pass back through the treeline. You follow Eddie into the barn, where he disappears through a door into the other half before reappearing sans animal carcases. The two of you settle in front of the radio again.

Will comes through at 3pm sharp with almost no news. No reply from Colorado about Memphis. No news about Jeff. The only thing he is able to tell you is that he will have more for you at 1300 tomorrow and he lets you know Max arrived at the farm early this morning, unharmed. It’s all in code, but you’re able to get the gist of it. When the radio clicks off, Eddie’s frustration boils over. He kicks hard at a metal can sitting on the ground, the side caving in before it goes sailing out the open door and bounces across the dirt drive of the house. You watch it roll to a stop before looking over at him, one hand on his hip and the other over his mouth as he stares at the object, the sun reflecting off the coating in a glare.

“I’m gonna go skin the animals.”

The door slams shut behind him.

You stare at the closed door for a few minutes before getting off the stool and heading back inside the house.

When you wake up on the couch a few hours later, the sun is even further toward the west. The light no longer shines into the windows of the front room, leaving it much darker than it had been when you and Eddie ate breakfast this morning. Rolling up to sit, you stretch overhead with one arm and a yawn before glaring down at the sling keeping your other arm captive. You’re well past tired of the limitation now and slip it over your head, tossing the fabric to the other end of the couch.

Extending your arm, there’s still some pain and discomfort, but as long as you don’t bring your arms above your head or lift too heavy with your bad arm, you’ll be fine without the sling. It is well past time you were able to use both hands again.

The heavy glance from Eddie when he slips back inside implies he disagrees, but it seems not enough to say anything.

Heavy footfall breaks up the silence until aluminum hits tile. “They’re cleaned. Are you still willing to cook?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” Padding across the room in your socks, you step right up next to him to peer into the container. Trying to ignore the way he shifts his shoulder back to make room for you at the counter. Tilting your head toward him, you’re closer than you thought when you add, “Thank you for doing that.”

He looks surprised by the proximity too – brown eyes even just a little bit wider as he scans your face. You can see the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down in a hard swallow. The words sound a bit caught in his throat when he replies, “Sure, no problem.”

Although he looks nervous, maybe even uncomfortable, with how close the two of you are standing, he still makes no effort to move away. Neither do you, although you do lower your face to look over the meat before you in an attempt to ease some of the tension.

If you didn’t know any better, the warmth to your side makes you think he drifted even closer when you stopped looking.

Softly, entirely too intimate compared to the standoffish man who slammed the door behind him mere hours ago, he asks, “Do you want help cooking? Or can I go take a shower before we eat?”

“Go shower.” He doesn’t move an inch. “Oh, actually,” you twist and your noses almost knock together, causing both of you to jerk back in shock. What in the hell is happening right now?

“Could you…” Your voice is unsteady, a bit breathless. “Would you light the stove before you go? I’ve never used one like this before.”

The corner of his mouth tilts up in a small smile before he drops down to his knees right there beside you. Steady hands reach in toward the wood burning stove as you avert your eyes, shifting out of his space and over toward the cabinets you scoped out earlier. Overwhelmed by his quick change in attitude, you busy yourself in preparation until he pushes himself up with a groan.

Seeking some normalcy, you sigh louder than necessary. “Sorry, shouldn’t have asked you to do that. Old knees and all.”

He huffs a laugh, hair shifting while he shakes his head in your periphery. “Careful, Bambi, or I’ll have to give you a taste of what these knees can do.”

A laugh bursts out of you before you can contain it, turning toward him again. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

His eyes narrow playfully, a hand raising in an accusatory point. “Better hope you never find out.” Raising your hands in surrender, you turn back to the counter before he offers one more, “Anything else before I go?”

“Nope, all good here. Thanks.”

He dips his head in acknowledgment before leaving you to your cooking.

As the door clicks shut behind him, you find yourself wondering which Eddie will he be when he gets back.

Evening of August 24th, 2016 – Three Corners, Cherokee Nation, Oklahoma

The chirp of crickets is nearly deafening out on the dusty porch now that the sun has sunk below the horizon. It echoes through the circular clearing of the drive – ricocheting off of thick foliage and the aluminum siding of the barn in a chorus of hissing. A cacophony of noise that drowns out everything but the creak of the rocking chair while it slowly shifts beneath you.

A knit blanket, softened with age, is draped across your lap, frayed edges rolling between your fingertips as you look out over the darkening landscape. The wind has softened from earlier today, meaning you don’t really need the blanket to combat the cold itself. But there’s something about curling up on the porch with a blanket that feels so… Novelty. Comforting.

Another thing you never thought you’d be able to do again.

Dinner with Eddie had been… Strange. He wasn’t quite the tease from when he brought back in the meat, but also wasn’t the grump you left in the barn. Somewhere in between – or maybe something else entirely.

His mood appeared to be wildly shifting by the hour and left you feeling unsure in how to act. While dinner itself had gone relatively easily, you couldn’t help being uneasy by what the next shift might bring.

After eating, he’d insisted on cleaning up. You didn’t fight him on it and made yourself scarce. Found your current blanket, bundled it up into your arms to keep it from dragging across the ground, and made your way to your current spot in the rapidly darkening dusk air. Taking a little while to breathe in fresh air and do your best to reach some sort of relaxed state.

You don’t get anywhere close before the metal hinge of the door behind you creaks open to announce your companion’s arrival.

“I come bearing gifts.”

A cool, glass bottle of liquid is set in your lap – two long fingers releasing either side of the neck before retreating out of view again. Twisting it toward you, you recognize the label of the familiar liquor.

“Where did you get this?”

Eddie drops into the rocking chair beside you with a sigh while he sets a flickering candle on the floor between you both before moving to untwist the top off his own bottle. “A lady does not reveal her secrets,” he murmurs before lifting the bottle to his lips and taking three long swigs. He hisses in through his teeth as it lowers, face contorting in a sort of pleasured pain before falling slack. “Fuck, that’s good.”

Curious if the label is true to the contents, you’re quick to follow - popping the top and bringing the cool glass mouth up to your lips in a more cautious sip than Eddie’s gulps. Sure enough, the liquor is strong and sharp as the burn invades your mouth before sliding down your throat. You groan slightly, not sure if it’s a good thing or not, as you lower the bottle again.

“That’s strong,” you cough slightly, face pulled back in a grimace. “Haven’t had any real shit in a long, long time.”

“Yeah, well.” He glances over at you, brown eyes warm and bright in the dancing flame between you, as the corner of his mouth tips up in a small smile. “Don’t get used to it, Bambi.”

“You sure they won’t miss these?” You ask him, curiously. Despite the burn, you bring the bottle up to your lips again, seeking the numbness that is sure to follow.

He takes another long chug, releasing his mouth with another hiss. “I stashed ‘em here. Guess I should feel lucky they didn’t drink them.”

“Guess so.”

Silence falls again. Or, what can be considered silence beyond the buzz of insects in the dark. You both continue to silently nurse your bottles – you more gently than him – as the red hues of the sun disappear into the navy blue blanket of stars.

When you glance over at Eddie, he has his head hanging back, the base of his skull resting on the back of the rocking chair, baring his throat to the night. He looks exhausted but at rest. Like the alcohol is finally lulling him into some semblance of ease. His legs are splayed wide with the bottle resting between them, hands loosely resting on his thighs. The salt and pepper scruff on his jaw grown thicker than when you’d first met him and his hair pulled back haphazardly.

It’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him. Completely unguarded. Even with you right there beside him.

Which makes him breaking the silence first even more terrifying.

“I think I owe you an apology.”

You try not to tense too much in response, looking over at him again. His head is still facing up but his eyes are open now, trained on the stars above you both.

While you can think of a few things, you’re still unsure exactly what he might be referring to. “I feel like I might regret asking this but, for what?”

His hands shift in his lap, tensing into fists before relaxing again. Shoulders rising and falling in a heaving sigh, his eyes pinch closed again. “I haven’t exactly treated you fairly since we met. I…” He trails off, head slowly lulling forward to glance at you before sticking to the ground before him. He clears his throat before continuing again. “Your dad and I never liked each other very much, for a lot of reasons. The biggest one being how he treated Rob.”

You can’t help but cut him off there, confusion apparently in your face. “What do you mean how he treated Robin?”

Eyes shifting over to you nervously, he takes another swig before explaining. “I’m sure you know the story - your dad and Rob’s mom had her really young, didn’t know what they were doing, all that. You probably heard the sugarcoated version but your dad just kinda up and left them. Didn’t really call, definitely didn’t visit. Moved on… Started a new family.”

Your heart burns then, sorrow and guilt pulling you in different directions. A new family – your family. 

“Robin never blamed you, or your mom for that matter. She’s never had anything but good things to say about you.” He’s quick to add, making minimal eye contact with you as he continues to explain. “But I did. I was real protective of Rob around the time your dad came back around wanting to make amends. I remember how much it hurt her. And I think a part of me always blamed you for that.”

Definitely not what you were expecting, you don’t say another word, waiting to see if he’ll keep going. It’s a bit painful; knowing he disliked you for something that couldn’t have possibly been your fault. Almost like he hated you just for being born.

“Anyway, that wasn’t cool or fair of me. The fault was always with your dad and his choices. So… I’m sorry.”

While the sentiment is appreciated, it’s still hard to swallow. You counteract the choking feeling it leaves in your throat with another sip of hard liquor.

“Thanks for telling me.” You offer softly. While you might not be ready to forgive him or even to accept it, you’re still at least grateful to understand a little better why your relationship had seemed doomed from the start.

His chest rumbles in a hum of acknowledgment, turning his attention to his bottle again. You let that hang in the air for a little longer before you speak up again. “What were some of the other reasons?” You ask curiously, looking anywhere but his face. He mumbles a ‘huh?’, urging you to clarify. “You said there were a lot of reasons you and him didn’t like each other. What else?”

You see him grapple with the question, rolling it around in his mouth as he figures out how to chew it. The liquor has definitely loosened him, mentally and physically. Maybe you shouldn’t press for more info like this but… Maybe this is your only chance.

“He tracked me down a few years ago. 2011, I think. It was a week after… After my Uncle Wayne died.” His voice is thick with emotion now, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration as he remembers it. “He asked me to help him with something – something big. But I… We argued. Barely held back from punching him square in the jaw a couple times. He said a lot of shit about ‘expecting more from me’ as if he knew me at all,” he let out a bitter chuckle, his head shaking slightly.

“I was in a lot of pain,” he admits, slightly choked up. You’re shocked still, not sure how to handle this turn of events. Should I comfort him? Let him talk through it? Ask more questions? “I told him to go fuck himself and he called me a selfish bastard. And we kept our distance from each other after that. I’m sure he’s probably rolling in his grave right now knowing I’m one of the people escorting you around.” A huff of a laugh at that, bringing the bottle back up to his lips before his eyes widen and glance your direction. “Sorry.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat. “No, uh… Don’t worry about it.”

Suddenly feeling yourself scramble for something else to say or some way to keep the conversation going, you put your foot right in your mouth by asking, “What happened to your Uncle Wayne?”

He looks at you, shock and maybe even offense clear on his face, and you wince as you kick yourself mentally. What kind of question is that? What the fuck do you think happened to him, idiot –

“Cancer, actually.”

Not sure if you’re more shocked by that response or the fact that he actually answered, you focus in on his face now to make sure he knows he has your attention.

“He worked in a factory for years and years before everything fell apart and smoked a shit ton. Lungs started giving out a couple years after everything fell apart. Coughing blood, wheezin’, the whole thing. Wasn’t really much anyone could do, everything being like it is.” 

He pauses to take another long gulp of liquor, the points of his cheekbones tinged pink with it. Or maybe emotion, it’s hard to tell in the candlelight. “Did everything we could but he, uh… Decided he was ready. Said he didn’t wanna wait around for the day he tried to take a breath and couldn’t. So I helped him out to a church in a small town that’d already been picked clean. Held his hand while he said his prayers. Gave him a hug. Gave him a pistol.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, Eddie’s gaze far off. Reliving the moments in his head. “Went outside and shut the doors. Waited… waited until the shot went off.” His hand harshly clasps over his mouth as he leans forward, nearly knocking the bottle to the floor as he leans his face away. You can still see the reflection of the tears escaping his eyes.

The softest whisper you can muster, you twist your fists in the blanket in your lap. “Eddie… I’m so sorry.”

His face pinches tight, tears spilling out of his closed eyes, as he shakes off the feeling and rights himself again. “Better end than most people get nowadays,” he admits, voice rough and dismissive. “Least he got to decide on his own terms. Not everybody gets that chance.”

Pained by his dismissal but accepting this is how he needs it to be, you give a solemn nod. After Memphis, you’ve learned your lesson about pushing him.

“Haven’t talked about that in a long time,” he adds with an embarrassed laugh, rubbing his scruff with the palm of his hand. And while there are still tears in his eyes, he looks a little bit lighter. A little bit more free. Your mind flashes to the church in Memphis – Eddie staring up at the missing head of Jesus in reverence, a pistol strapped to his belt.

Searching for something.

You tip forward, the chair creaking as you rest your feet on the ground below you. He looks over at the noise, watching as you lift your bottle towards his in an offering.

“To doing things on your own terms,” you toast quietly, a small smile on your face.

He blinks at you a few times before a small smile tugs at his own face again. Eventually, the bottom edge of his bottle gently clinks against your own.

“To doing things on your own terms.”

August 25th, 2016 – Three Corners, Cherokee Nation, Oklahoma

It’s with a lot of difficulty that you blink your eyes open from a dead sleep – heavy lids and crusty corners protesting the smallest movement. Warmth surrounds you, coaxing you back to rest and away from the headache that is already starting to appear behind your eyes. It must be very early based on the blue toned light that comes in through the window, which you’re not even conscious enough to realize is not in the same spot as it was yesterday.

Barely aware of anything other than how comfortable you are right now and how much you have to pee, you groan softly before attempting to move.

You freeze up when there’s an answering groan from behind you and the weight around your waist tightens to pull you back in.

Shocked fully awake now, you take stock of your surroundings. You’re in a bed you’ve never seen before. There’s a half empty bottle of liquor on the floor beside you. Your pants are gone. And there’s a tattooed forearm wrapped tightly around your torso, belonging to the warm body lining your back. Hot air coasts along the back of your shoulders, the slightest hint of scruff on your skin, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his sleeping chest.

You’re in bed with Eddie. And you don’t remember how you got here.

Heart starting to pound in your chest, you try to calm yourself from spiraling with questions, many of them starting and ending with why am I not wearing pants–

He shifts behind you and you hold your breath, waiting to see if he’s waking up. You remember he drank a lot more than you so, with any luck, you’ll be able to extract yourself from this situation before anything too horribly awkward happens. When he falls still again, curled tight to the back of you, you cycle through your options.

First and worst, make a scene. Scramble out of the bed, shouting and hiding the fact that you’re half undressed, and mortify both of you in the process. Absolutely not.

Second, try to slowly and carefully remove yourself from his hold. Maybe you could replace yourself with a pillow or something, give him something else to hold onto. Or maybe just remove yourself and make a break for the door, hoping he doesn’t wake up in the 5 seconds between and realize what happened.

Third, accept this is your life now. After all, it’s really comfortable. He’s warm and holding you tight – comforting and safe. Feeling his breath across the back of your neck. You feel like you could drift right off again if not for the slight pressure of something against your lower back…

You need to get up. Now.

Like you’re the worst secret agent navigating the worst bank vault ever seen, you somehow manage to extract yourself from Eddie’s surprisingly tight grip. He moans in disapproval but remains asleep, bringing a pillow in to tuck against his chest in a poor replacement. If it wasn’t for the nearly empty bottle on his bedside table, this surely would’ve gone a whole lot worse.

Taking a few moments to admire his sleeping form in the early morning light – the crows feets beside his eyes only noticeable as tan lines, the harshly indented wrinkles between his brows smoothed over – you rush out of the room when he adjusts again just in case he’s waking up.

You make a pit stop in the room you stayed in the previous night, grabbing a pair of pants from the piles of clothes on the floor, and lock yourself in the bathroom.

After a quick wee, you appraise yourself in the mirror. Your hair is a mess. As messy as it normally gets with sleep, you tell yourself. You don’t have any hickies or other noticeable signs of something less “friendly” happening. In fact, it really just feels like you had the best sleep you’ve had in years, not including the rapidly progressing hangover you’re experiencing now. Still, you think back to last night, trying to remember how you might have ended up in Eddie’s bed.

After he told you about Wayne, the two of you ended up reminiscing on other people you’d both lost along the way. Your school friends, his band mates (other than Jeff), both your parents, a few of the friends he made in high school. A little bit of pondering where you both would be now if the world hadn’t gone to shit. He talked a little bit about Memphis and what he’d lost, which you listened to intently. Then… Nothing.

Resting a hand against your forehead as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you’re terrified to realize you can’t remember what happened between the two of you sitting on the porch and when you woke up in his arms this morning.

What the hell did you do?

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i bet you thought you'd seen the last of me!!!!! well guess what!!!! you haven't.

i obviously went a lot longer than i wanted before updating this but i have never, ever stopped thinking about it. i still have it all fleshed out in my head and i will finish it if it kills me. i appreciate your patience in the meantime.

and let me know what you think!! comments and reblogs mean the world <3

[thirstyforcharacters]

Reconnection

Part 2 of the Mistakes Series

Part 1: Mistakes. Part 3: Healing

Summary: You walked away from Joel after the confrontation at Bill and Frank’s. You thought you’d never see him again. Until you did.

Warnings: angst!!!!! reader is lonely :( Joel and reader are getting better at emotions!!! mentions of canon typical violence, allusion to sexual activities, happy-ish ending

WC: 2025

Notes: soooo here is the sequel to Mistakes!! I had originally planned on only having this series be two parts, and then I thought it would be three or four, but now I’m kind of back to only doing two bc I really liked how this part ended!!! Lmk what you think about that!!

Walking out was simultaneously the best and worst thing you could’ve done for yourself. You didn’t wake up feeling unwanted. You did what you wanted when you wanted because no one was there to hover over you. You lived in the woods, trading with other people like you, dodging Infected, and killing raiders who tried to make your life more of a living hell than living on this earth already was.

But you were lonely. You missed the times you had with Joel and Tess before everything happened. You missed the feeling of having a family, even if they weren’t a great one at the end. They were the only two people you trusted, and not having that safety net was terrifying. But you made your choice and you stuck to it. On April 23rd, 2023, you left the Boston QZ and didn’t look back, not even as Joel pleaded with you to stay. Not even as you saw tears start to fill Tess’s eyes for the first and last time. Not even as you snuck through the gate and slit the FEDRA agent’s throat who tried to stop you.

For a year, you wandered. Slowly, you traveled, going from Boston down to Pennsylvania, then you made your way through the Midwest. You didn’t really have a destination, you just knew that you wanted to be as far away from Boston as you could get.

And on April 23rd, 2024, you found Jackson, Wyoming.

Well to be more specific, the residents found you.

As always, you were wandering on your own. What was snow covered terrain in the winter was now grasslands in the spring as you hiked over prairies and rolling fields, slowly approaching the Rockies to the west. At some point, you crossed a few rivers, but honestly, so much of what you traveled had blurred together at this point. It was nighttime, and you laid down to rest, setting up a small camp as always. You slept for only two hours, which wasn’t abnormal for you. But what wasn’t normal for you was to be surrounded by three people on horseback pointing rifles at you when you woke up. Immediately, you put your hands in the air. You could take three people easily if they were on the ground, but on horseback, you were at a major disadvantage.

“Who’re you?” the one in the center asked.

His accent was familiar. You searched for his face, blinking your eyes open in the dark, slowly adjusting to the low light.

“‘M Y/n. Just passing through.”

“You by yourself?” he asked again.

Your eyes widened once they were finally adjusted from the dark.

It was Tommy, Joel’s brother.

You knew him back in the day, before he ran off to join the Fireflies. He was always a bit friendlier than his older brother, despite everything he’d gone through. And he was handsome, though you had always preferred Joel in that regard.

“Tommy?”

Your voice was much more confused than you would’ve liked, but it made him stop in his tracks. He studied your face, searching for something in it until the light turned on.

“Oh, shit, you’re that Y/n! Sorry I didn’t recognize you at first, it’s been a while.”

But his gun was still pointed at you. And you knew why.

“I’m not Infected. You can check me yourselves if you want.”

You rolled up your sleeves and your pantlegs to prove a point, showing off the lack of bites and claw marks on your body.

The person on the right, a woman with dark hair jumped down from her horse. It was at that point that you noticed a dog beside them, growling at you.

“The dog will know if you’re telling the truth,” she said.

You tensed up. Despite knowing that you were clean, the large creature baring its teeth at you was still unnerving. But you allowed him to approach, and soon his growls faded as he nudged you with his nose. You couldn’t help but smile as you scratched his head, the animal giving you some comfort as you looked up at the people who were now getting off of their horses. Tommy offered you his hand and you took it, allowing him to help you off of the ground. The dark haired woman smiled at you, and the other person, a man with light brown hair and glasses looked you over.

“It’s good to see you again, Y/n. It’s been a long time,” said Tommy with a smile.

“It’s good to see you, too. Always enjoyed your company,” you responded honestly.

His smile grew a little wider, but then dropped as he asked you, “What are you doing out here by yourself? Always thought if I saw you again, it would be with Joel and Tess.”

You tensed up, and he noticed.

“Long story. Don’t have time to tell it,” you offered simply, “what about you? Still with those Fireflies?”

He chuckled, “Not exactly. I’ll show you when we get there. You can share my horse.”

Despite not seeing him in many years, you trusted him. So, ignoring the sleep that wanted to retake you, you gathered your few belongings and got on the horse, along with the two others. During the ride, you learned their names were Maria and Allen.

“Maria’s my wife,” Tommy said, beaming with pride, “we’re parents now, can you believe it?”

You smiled at them both, “Congratulations!”

But why would they want a child in a world like this?

As the sun was rising over the Wyoming mountainside, you arrived at your destination. You couldn’t help but gasp out loud at the wooden gates and stare in shock at the beautiful town sprawled out before you.

“Holy shit, Tommy!” is all you could think to say.

Tommy laughed, his eyes crinkling at the sides, “Welcome to Jackson.”

Maria smiled and said, “We’ll find a place to put you up. I’m sure you’re tired since we interrupted your sleep. We can take you on a tour in the morning.”

Suddenly, your exhaustion hit you, your eyes drooping involuntarily as a yawn escaped your lips.

“That sounds great.”

You honestly didn’t even remember falling asleep, but when you woke up to knocking at the front door of your new house, the sun was high in the sky. You yawned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you trudged through your bedroom and the rest of your house to reach the front door.

“Hey, Y/n! Feel a little better?”

Tommy was on your doorstep with a smile.

You nodded, “Still a little sleepy, but much better, thank you.”

“Good,” he said, “you ready for that tour, now?”

“Sure.”

Tommy led you through town, pointing out the important buildings: the stables, the bar, of course, and the clinic, while explaining how things worked in town.

“Oh, and since you’re capable, we’ll probably put you in the patrol rotation as soon as you’re settled in…”

But you weren’t listening anymore. The two of you approached the school, since Tommy thought maybe you could help teach there, and there you saw something you hoped you’d never see again.

Joel.

He was talking to a teenaged girl with brown hair and a bright smile. He was laughing at something she had said, his eyes twinkling with a brightness you had never seen in them before.

Blood rushed to your ears as your heart pounded in your chest. You couldn’t help the way your hands shook as adrenaline rushed through you.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to see him again.

“Y/n, you okay?” asked Tommy softly.

Joel’s head whipped around upon hearing your name. It couldn’t really be you, could it? Your hair was too long and tangled, your clothes too torn and dirty, your shoes barely staying on your feet.

But those eyes were unmistakable. They carried so much weight, even more than the last time he saw you. They were filled with fear, anger, sadness, but worst of all, loneliness. And it was his fault.

Joel never stopped blaming himself for what happened. He missed you every day, and no one, not even Tess could pull him from his misery. Ellie filled the Sarah-sized hole in his heart, but there was still a you-sized hole from the past year. And now that you were before him, he was determined to get you back.

“Y/n.”

The soft murmur of your name was enough to shake you of your stupor.

“Joel.”

You said nothing more. What else was there to say?

“Hey, Ellie, you want to come to my place? Maria’s baking cookies,” Tommy asked, giving you both a meaningful look.

“Sure! You’d better come around then, too, Joel!” the girl, Ellie, said cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to what was occurring.

“I will, Ellie. You run along now,” Joel replied, smiling softly at the retreating figures of Ellie and his brother.

Then his attention was on you. And quite frankly, you didn’t know what to do.

Joel stepped toward you, closing the gap until you were face to face with the man that had been haunting your dreams for the past year.

“Didn’t expect to see you around here,” he said.

You heard the weight his voice carried. Even if others couldn’t read the stoic man, you could. You knew him too well, even after all of this time.

“Well that makes two of us.”

The bitterness still tinging your voice makes him wince slightly.

“It’s good to see you alive,” he offered, “that you’re okay.”

“No thanks to you.”

The tone was sharp, offered no room for friendliness or forgiveness.

Joel sighed softly, running his fingers through his graying hair, “I know. I’ve thought about it every day.”

That made you pause, the anger simmering below the surface beginning to give way.

“Me too.”

You wouldn’t say that you missed him. That you dreamed about a world where the three of you were still a team. That when you felt really lonely, your fingers would slip below your waistband, still thinking of him. That you often wished desperately that you never left. But you felt like he knew.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

His smile was tight lipped and his eyes swam with the ghosts of your shared past.

“No Tess?”

Her absence was noticeable to you. In the time the three of you had worked together, you didn’t go anywhere without the others.

Joel shook his head, “Dead.”

“Raiders?”

“Infected.”

“Oh,” you gasped, “I’m sorry.”

And you were. Tess was a good friend and a strong ally. Her death was unexpected to you, and you knew Joel had to have been there to see it. You wouldn’t wish that upon your worst enemy.

He looked at the ground, breaking eye contact with you for the first time, “Losing her was hard. I had already lost you, and then I lost her. Just like Sarah.”

Joel was never one to talk about his emotions, but you had broken down that wall during your partnership. And though you didn’t let your guard down to him, here he was using a wrecking ball.

“Joel, I-” this time you ran your fingers through the tangled mess that was your hair, trying to search for something to say.

But he continued, “I know what I did to you was wrong. Shutting you out wasn’t the answer, and I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t. But maybe leaving wasn’t the best answer for me, either.”

That was the first time you had really admitted that to yourself.

“I should’ve talked to you, like this, before making a choice so rash. I’m so-”

“You don’t have to apologize. You did what you had to. You have to do what’s best for you in this world,” Joel interrupted, returning his gaze to you.

You nodded, “Well, maybe this is a chance for us to start fresh. Maybe it was meant to happen.”

The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips, “Maybe it was. Let me walk you home.”

And you did, with the feeling that you’d let him do it again and again.

[pitchouna]

Meeting Goku x reader headcanons!!

(It's an AU where Chi-chi doesn't meet Goku because I love my girl and I simply hate angst.)

May be ooc since it's my first time writing </3 but overall it's just Fluff!!

Haven't checked for any spelling mistakes I'm too lazy.

Okay so I've recently became a Goku simp and Dragon Ball lover, and I've noticed there's little to no works about him. Which surprised me with how popular the DB series are. Anyways we'll talk about this another time let's begin!!

1k

To Begin, you and Goku met during the 23rd World Martial Arts Tournament where you both fought.

Even though you were beaten easily, Goku was amazed to find a strong woman for the first time. He immediately fell in love. (he's too dumb to figure it out and needed Krillin's help.)

Which lead him to ask to train and spar together when you'd both be free. So like everyday.

But of course it wasn't enough interaction for our lovely saiyan so Krillin's helped his best bud having dates ideas such as going to the beach together, going on restaurants (sadly you're the one paying

You two even nap together!!

As you guys may know, this man has got no experience about what personal space means.

So don't be surprised if you get trapped in a hug randomly if you guys nap together!!

No matter how far your beds are he'll randomly find a way to stick with you.

Of course there are some days where Goku may piss you off..

For exemple, when he asks too many dumb questions that your brain just want to disconnect.

Or when you simply don't want to train yet Goku doesn't understand why since training is literally all his life so he could be overwhelming without knowing it.

So you see theses excuses we use when we're too lazy to go out with friends? That was your first thought.

You'll sick to not train since it's the only way to escape training you found yet.

With how dumb he is, you could easily avoid the senzu beans solution.

Unless someone reminds him about it... ( Either it's Krillin, Yamcha etc... )

When learning who told him about it you'll always have a grudge against them.

You'll always be able to count on Bulma though!! Since she knows how men could be such a pain.

Y'all are besties forever and goes shopping at least once in the month (She's such a generous BFF she'll pay for everything)

You both always gossip.

However, Goku hates the days when you go hang out with Bulma.

He's just so bored.. Even if he can train, nap and eat as much as he'd like which is supposed to be his favourite hobbies it won't help..

He just has the need urge to see you!!

So sometimes, when he knows where you and Bulma hangs out, he'll randomly pop up out of nowhere with the Nimbus cloud.

Disappointed, Bulma still gets the message and sometimes will leave you two alone.

"Huh leaving already Bulma? You usually stay longer!" You exclaimed confused as why she was packing up so early.

"Sorry n/n! I just remembered I have a special meeting with some scientists!! Here's the money to pay for the addition. See ya!!" Bulma said in a rush as she left too much money on the table.

"Hold on Bulma you-" You were about to yell so she could take the money back before Goku interrupted you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"It's too late Y/n she's already gone now! Why don't you accept the money?" Goku said with his usual innocent which made you sigh in disbelief. Yet you didn't felt like scolding him right now you were too tired.

"I hope you don't want us to spar or train right now.. I'm too lazy." You mumbled with an irritated voice not wanting to deal with that right now.

"Heheee.. I just wanted to see you!!" Goku chuckled with his usual goofy smile that you started to like so much (But you didn't wanted to admit it yet...)

"You interrupted me and Bulma for that?.."

"But she has to go anyways!!"

"... Fair point."

Too lazy to argue further you just decided to let him win only this time. Since it was very late and you are the laziest person ever.

"Oh!" You heard Goku yell and wondered what that was about.

"Hm? What's up?" You asked him wanting to know what's on his mind.

"How about I take you on a ride home on the Nimbus? We'll get to watch the stars together!!" Goku said patting the Yellow cloud beside him.

"I guess I wouldn't mind..." You said as a small smile appears on your face.

Knowing that only pure-hearted people can go on it you decided to put a hand on the Nimbus and not to your surprise it went through it. Goku seemed very surprised though.

"How? You're one of the kindest person I know!!" Goku frowned wondering why that didn't work but you just chuckled at how innocent and cute dumb he was.

"That's not how it works Goku.."

"How does it works then?"

"I'll explain you another day. I'm too lazy right now... But what do we do now??

After your question, Goku put a hand on his chin thinking about a solution. He found it faster that what you were expecting.

" What about you get on my lap?" Goku said smilling innocently which made you blush.

"Why are you all red so suddenly Y/n??" You just brush it off not wanting to break his innocence of the poor guy.

"Just forget it alright? I'll go on your lap."

Goku chuckles in happiness hearing this. He wasted no time sitting on the Nimbus cloud and putting you on his lap.

He also took the opportunity to place his chin on your head. Which made you blush a little.

"Ready Y/n ?" Goku said Holding your waist. Too lazy as always you just nodded with a hum.

The Nimbus started to make it's way towards your home, as you took the opportunity to watch the beauty of the sky.

Goku smiled at your amazement, he found you so cute.

" Like what you're seeing Y/n?" Goku asked, his happiness obvious in his voice.

However, he heard nothing.

"Y/n ??" Goku asked looking at you just to find you asleep.

Oh well... He was already happy having you in his arms

He made a big detour to enjoy this moment even if you were sleeping.

Oh my god this took much longer than expected... The way I decided to randomly write headcanons out of nowhere instead of finishing my homeworks is wild. I hope y'all will like this!! If not I'll probably kms but it was very fun to write though!!

Will maybe do that another time if I don't forget this account 😭😭

Take care <33

[the-eeveekins]

The 23rd Day of G-Witch: The Woven Path

It's finally here, my 2nd favorite episode in the show.

The army of Gundnodes is absolutely formidable, and Suletta goes against this entire army solo. A lot of people list the massacre of the SAL Fleet as one of the crimes Prospera should have paid for, but I'll be honest, I don't vibe with that one. The SAL may be opposed to the Benerit Group, but they're just as complicit in the oppression of Earth as the BG is. They're just trying to take the power and authority of the BG for themselves to be the new rulers of space and reap those benefits themselves. So I don't really feel bad that Prospera wiped out a fleet belonging to another group of oppressors along the way.

The revelation that Suletta's beloved list were almost all her mom's ideas is pretty stunning. And at this point, the only desires that Suletta has expressed that were actually her own were building a school on Mercury and marrying Miorine. But now she has a new desire, one all her own: she wants to stop Prospera and Ericht from harming more people, and save her family.

And of course, one more desire: to see Miorine again and talk to her.

After doing a lot of thinking on it, I've ultimately decided that I do like this scene, even if the time could've definitely been better used elsewhere. It serves as a conclusion to the "rivalry" between Suletta and Guel, as well as a homage to both Gundam history and Utena. My only major complaint is that Miorine should have been the one to give Suletta back the Holder uniform, not Guel.

I think Guel was trying to motivate Suletta to take the fight seriously by telling her he wouldn't let him see her, and for her part, she agrees to the duel, because she knows she can beat him. But I also think there's a universe where Suletta just tells Guel straight off and that she's going to see Miorine whether he likes it or not.

The reunion. I love the way Suletta & Miorine reflect on their past mistakes, and that Suletta knows that regardless of the mistakes of her past, she needs to move forward in life. When Miorine expresses her fear of making mistakes, especially with regards to Suletta, Suletta makes an important point: Suletta would not be the person she is today without Miorine. Even with the pain and heartbreak, meeting Miorine and falling in love with her made her who she is today, and that was not a mistake.

I'm sorry, I have trouble articulating my thoughts on this scene. But I love Miorine asking Suletta to come with her to Earth, because Suletta gives her the strength to move past her fears and face the future. Just like Suletta gives her the strength to get up and open the door for her, to let Suletta see her at her most vulnerable. And Suletta reaches her hand out to Miorine because she accepts all of her, not just her strengths, but her weaknesses too, and wants to be with her no matter what. And Miorine, who probably never though Suletta would come back to her or accept her after what she did, accepts her hand.

For the first time, we see Miorine partake of the love she nurtured with Suletta. They are truly a couple now, with mutual love and trust in each other. Miorine says they'll grow more tomatoes, and Suletta agrees. They'll continue to grow the love they share together.

Suletta struggles as she hits score four, but she's determined to make it to score five and stop Prospera and Ericht. And even though Suletta could very well die and it terrifies her, Miorine respects her choice and raises the Permet score to five. As Suletta succeeds and stabilizes the Calibarn at score five, you can see the relief on Miorine's face as she lets out the tears she was holding back. It was a scary choice that may have killed the person she loves, but she placed her trust in Suletta's decision, and that trust allowed Suletta to succeed where her mother failed and gain the ability to face her family head on.

I just love the Calibarn's introduction. Liberation From the Curse is an amazing song, and it's used to incredible effect as Suletta flies into Quiet Zero solo and takes on an army of Gundnodes that had thus far torn apart everything they'd faced. She expertly dodges all their firepower and wipes out swarms of them with the broom rifle, to the point that Ericht is forced to sortie in the Aerial to try and stop her.

Up until this point I had been fairly underwhelmed with the Calibarn, but I absolutely fell in love during this scene. The cool factor of the broom rifle, Suletta expertly dodging fire from hundreds of Gundnodes and their bits while taking out multiple enemies with each shot of her rifle. It has since become my favorite mobile suit.

You can practically hear the defeat in Prospera's voice. Sure, Prospera has prioritized Ericht, but she does still love Suletta and wanted to avoid a conflict with her other daughter. But I think deep down she knew that the only person capable of stopping her at this point was Suletta, and seeing a Gundam that only she could pilot breach the Data Storm confirms those fears.

Likewise, if you've read Cradle Planet, you'll know that Eri loves Suletta and has always cared for her little sister, and was against the plan to send Suletta to the school or get her involved in their schemes. The last thing she wants to do is fight and hurt her sister, but at this point Ericht doesn't have the will to oppose her mother.

(There was so much I could've addressed and wanted to talk about in this episode that I just couldn't fit in, and I really felt the struggle of properly articulating the thoughts I did put down. I may make a 2nd post just for extra stuff.)

[dracolilhoe]

Temptation (Severus Snape x Y/n)

Chapter 1 - New Beginnings

Severus Snape x Y/n Evadne

Main Masterlist here -> DracoLilHoe

Harry Potter Fandom Masterlist here -> HP Masterlist

Temptation Masterlist here -> Temptation Masterlist

Warnings - Female reader, use of Y/n, Mentions of Death and Suicide, Professor reader

Words: 730

Summary: Y/n's tragic backstory and the start of a new chapter in her life.

If you find mistakes please tell me! I'm not a perfect writer so please just let me know. Happy reading! :)

August 21st, 1993 8:30 pm

Death. It's always been a topic that has intrigued me. Nobody really knows what happens when you die, but I've always wondered what it would feel like. What would it feel like if I drowned...what would it feel like if I was tortured...what would it feel like if my body just offered itself up as bait?

My father, Gareth, shot himself on my birthday in 1979. I had just turned 11 and was on summer break.

Honestly, it was the best birthday present ever.

I've never seen my mother in such pain when we found him.

SIDE NOTE: I hated seeing my mother upset. She was my everything.

I remember we had a "girl's day", a day when my mom and I spent time together. We were in the car pulling into the driveway and as we walked up the stairs to the front door we saw a note:

  My sweet Evaline,

          Don't come inside. I don't want you to see this. 

 Yeah...my mom went inside.

She made me sit on the steps of the porch and wait for her to come back. She looked so broken when she came and sat next to me. Her cheeks were stained with tears and her hands were shaking and coated in blood.

After my father's passing, we held his funeral in London, his hometown. Afterward, my mother decided to sell our family home and moved us to a small apartment in Little Venice (London). She said she wanted a new beginning, free from the reminders of our past.

A load of bullshit if you ask me.

August 22nd, 1993 3:00 pm

My mother always tried to hide the fact that our family was broken. She didn't do a very good job. She would always try to get me out of the house and away from my father.

SIDE NOTE: They only got married because of me. I was just an accident. Nobody had to tell me. It was obvious.

My mother was hopelessly in love with him, but he only wanted to use her because she was, as he like to put it, "appealing to the eye". But me, he hated me. Everything I did always seemed to just piss him off. I could never do anything right. It didn't matter how hard I tried or how much effort I put in. 

SIDE NOTE: He used to hit and throw things at me and my mom, especially when he was drunk. Which he almost always was.

August 23rd, 1993 8:00 pm

His death never did sit right with me. It just didn't make sense. It didn't matter that I hated him I always wondered "Why would he kill himself?" Looking back I remember he always used to be gone for days or even weeks at a time. 

I wonder why...

August 24th, 1993 10:46 am

Since I was of age I started at Hogwarts. One day I ended up getting a letter from my grandma.

My mother killed herself.

To nobody's surprise, she couldn't handle the pain. 

SIDE NOTE: I cried for hours. At the age of eleven losing both of my parents took a toll on me. I wanted to die. Even if I hated my father. I still loved him.

August 25th, 1993 11:00am

My grandma got sick a few months ago. She didn't make it. I remember it like it was yesterday.

SIDE NOTE: May 6th, 1993 6:00 pm. That was when I got the phone call.

I was sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea and working on a painting. I heard the phone ring and got up to answer it. Sometimes I wish I didn't. Just so I could pretend she was alive.

August 26th, 1993 12:00 pm

I always relied on my grandma, since she was my only family left. But now she was gone. I was broke as hell. No job, no money, and could barely afford the apartment. That was until I got the letter. 

THE LETTER (June 20th, 1993):

Dear Miss Evadne,

I'm very sorry to hear about your grandmothers passing. My condolences. I understand that you are looking for a job, and I have a proposal. Unfortunately, Professor Sprout has decided to retire, and, as I understand it, you had a real knack for Herbology. If you are interested in teaching this year please write back.

Sincerely,

      Albus Dumbledore 

Well, I'm broke, basically homeless, and in need of a job. So what could I do other than say...

yes.

Check me out on Tumblr!

Check me out on Wattpad

[outsideratheart]

3 Present shopping with gulia gwinn

A/N: Day twenty two of the Christmas advent calendar. 

You were the organised type of present buyer. Throughout the year if you saw something one of your friends or family would like then you bought it. This meant come October, November at the latest, you were done and December could be stress free.

“Do you want to go for breakfast tomorrow?” Lina asks you.

You and some of the girls had just finished your last media appearance before the Christmas break. The energy was high within the group and even though you spent the majority of the week together, you still loved to go out and explore the city together.

“Sure 9am? I’ll meet you at the bakery, the one that does my favourite cinnamon buns” you mouth began watering at the mention of the sweet treat.

“No, you can’t” Gulia stops in her tracks, turns to you and puts her hand on your chest “you said you would help me with my Christmas shopping”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“First of all, hand” you look down at her hand.

“I forgot you don’t like to touched, Sorry” she quickly moves her hand away.

“Oh please, when you do it she takes longer to freak out” Lina says earning a slap.

It wasn’t that didn’t like it. It has more to do with the person and situation. Gulia was slowly becoming an exception. After you lost the euros you were heartbroken, there were nights when you couldn’t sleep because you would obsess over the mistakes you made. Once Gulia found out she would stay over and held you until you fell asleep. It was the first time someone else’s touch brought you comfort.

“As I was saying. Tomorrow is the 23rd December, how have you not finished your Christmas shopping?”

Gulia mumbles something incoherent.

“What was that?” You ask with an amused look on your face.

“I said I haven’t started it yet”

“What!” You mouth hangs open in shock.

“Don’t be dramatic. We’ll have fun”

You knew she was right. Whether you spent the day with her or anytime with her you had fun, more so with her than anyone else.

The next day you met with Gulia in the middle of Munich. She gave you a list of things she needed to get knowing that you knew where the best places to buy them were given that shopping is one of your favourite past times.

You quickly checked the first five people off the list. Gulia then decided now would be the perfect time for a coffee break.

“Can I ask you a question?” Gulia says as she watches you take a sip of your favourite beverage before nodding your head.

“Why don’t you like been touched? I asked Lina about it and she said I should ask you” Gulia looks down as she admits to discussing this behind your back.

“I probably wasn’t hugged enough as a child” you joke even though you know this is the exact reason.

You can see the look of pity wash over Gulia’s face. This is why you never talked out it, you cannot stand that look.

“But you let me touch you. You lay happily in my arms as you sleep and when I do this” she reaches across the table for your hand “you don’t pull away”

A small smile tugs at her lips as you allow her to stroke the back of your hand with her thumb.

“You are different, I can’t explain it. After the full time whistle was blown in the final you forced me into a hug so no one would see me cry, since then it’s like my heart trusts you”

“Well I’m honoured and I wont hurt you Y/N, I don’t think I could even if I tried”

“You don’t have to say that. Just because I opened up, you don’t have to say what you think I want to hear”

“Don’t do that. I felt something change that day too. Why do you think I offered to spend all of those nights at your house?”

Her hand still holds yours and that itself surprises you. You have never held hands with someone for this long before but what surprises you more if how happy the touch makes you.

Her question makes you think. You had asked yourself that same question every morning when you woke up in her arms.

“Because my bed is comfy” your attempt of making a joke out of the situation causes Gulia shake head “ok, fine. I don’t know Gulia”

“The thought of you having sleepless nights, overthinking every minute of that game and blaming yourself breaks my heart. It does that because I care for you but I think deep down you already know that or at least your subconscious does, it’s the reason why you don’t pull away”

You are at a loss for words. She was right though, you had thought about it but soon stopped. How could a girl like her every like a girl like you.

“Now we’ve have our deep moment, what do you say about us finishing the shopping?” She withdraws her hand and already you find yourself craving her touch.

A few shops later and the two of you are walking the streets of Munich. Gulia looks around at the different Christmas light and stalls but even then she can feel you staring at her.

“What is it?”

“Can I hold your hand?” You ask the question that had been on your mind since leaving the coffee shop. Gulia doesn’t answer but intertwines her fingers with yours.

“You’re cute” you teases you slightly “is this ok?”

“This is” you pause for a moment to see if your body will pull away only it doesn’t “its perfect”

The sun had long set when you finish the list but you didn’t mind. Today had been one of the best days you’ve had in a long time and you loved every minute of it.

“And we’re done” you close the boot of Gulia’s car after helping her load it with the presents.

“Not yet”

You grab the list out of your back pocket running your finger over every name which as you suspected had been crossed off.

“We are, look” you hold up the list for her to see.

“I still have to get you something. What do you want?”

You think for a second before the perfect gift comes to mind.

“You”

“You want me for Christmas?” She asks slightly confused.

“Yes and no. I want to take you on a date?”

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see what Santa brings you”

Gulia drives you home that night instead of you getting an Uber. When you arrive at your apartment she insists on walking you to your door.

The nights ends with her hugging you tighter than ever before.

“Merry Christmas Y/N. Thank you for trusting me” she whispers in your ear.

“Merry Christmas Gulia”

[inlovewithalotoffandoms]

Imagine.....Being Barrys younger sister and going to the future instead of him. (Season 3 Episode 19: The once and Future Flash)

Key: Y/N=Your Name, *=Singing.

Future Barry: You're from before she dies, aren't you? You can't save her.

You: Yes, we can. And we're going to.

Future Barry: No, you can't. Go home.

You: Just tell me who's in the suit. All right? That's all I need. You tell me that, we'll be able to track him down. We'll learn his weakness. We'll stop him before he even tries. Just tell me who Savitar is.

Future Barry: I can't.

You: What are you-why?

Future Barry: Because I don't know the answer. Sorry you ran all this way for nothing. You want some advice, go home. Spend as much time with Iris and your brother as you can. Because pretty soon.... you'll never see 'em again.

Time Skip:

You: You promised. You promised her that you would be there for Joe.

Future Barry: You don't understand.

You: I don't understand what? That you abandoned them? That you abandoned him and everybody else? Including me? You made a promise!

Future Barry: That I couldn't keep! Not after everything I lost. I was just as broken as Joe was!

You: I don't care.

Future Barry: You will! [scoffs] You will. [sighs] You want answers, Y/N? How's this? You will go back. You will do everything that you can think of to save her. You and Barry are even gonna create time remnants of yourselves, but he's gonna kill them all, mostly. And then on the night of May 23rd, Iris West will die in your brothers arms.

You: No.

Future Barry: And in that moment that she takes her last breath, it'll feel like an eternity. And it will break Barry. She's the love of his life, Y/N. She was the love of my life.......... There'll be nothing left at all but stopping Savitar... So no, he won't be there for Joe. He won't be there when Caitlin becomes killer Frost. When Savitar destroys Wally. He won't even be there when you become famous. He won't be there for any of you. But then one day, he'll stop him. Barry'll lock him in the Speed Force forever. But at that point Savitar already won. Because everything that Barry's ever loved is gone. Including himself... Go home, Y/N. There's nothing for you here.

You: Where's future me?

Future Barry: [scoffs] You really want to see your future self?

You: Yeah, I mean she could know who Savitar is.

Future Barry: Even if she did....she didn't even tell me.

You: Why?

Future Barry: Because....after Iris died, something happend, and we went our separate ways.

You: So the same thing's gonna happen to me and... [Takes a deep breath} Okay, can you tell me where she is. Please?

Time Skip:

Future Barry: She's in there. Good luck.

You: You're not coming with me?

Future Barry: I'm not even supposed to be here. Look, you go in and when you're done, I'll still be waiting here.

Future You: *Don't need a king, I've got my crown, Don't need a hero to lift me off the ground. I built this heart, it's beatin' loud. Won't let no bad blood ever bring us down. Keep flyin' higher, fight like a fighter. What if I'm everything that I will ever need? A queen messiah, a strong survivor. Even the worst days won't get the best of me. 'Cause I was born to be brave. I know who I am inside and I won't apologize. Made my mistakes. And they gave me wings to fly to my castle in the sky.*

You: *I used to feel like I was lost. It's like my phone's navigation was turned off. But it's the road I stumbled on. That led me right to the place where I belong. Keep flyin' higher, fight like a fighter. What if I'm everything that I was meant to be? A blazin' fire that's gettin' brighter.

Don't need nobody here that don't believe in me. 'Cause I was born to be brave. I know who I am inside and I won't apologize. Made my mistakes. And they gave me wings to fly to my castle in the sky.*

You and Future You: *Let my hair down and let it go. No more runnin', I run this show. Way up here, yeah, the view is gold. Born to be brave

Now I'm standin' miles high like castles in the sky.*

You: *Like castles in the sky.*

Future You: How'd you know that song?

You: I'm you.

Future You: From 2017?

You: Yeah. Look I just need you to tell me who Savitar is. Please? I can't watch Iris die.

Future You: Y/N, just go home. I can't tell you.

You: Why?!

Future You: Because you're not gonna like what you hear!

You: Try me.

Time Skip:

Future Barry: She didn't tell you?

You: Nope.

Future Barry: I told you so.

You: Wait. What did you just say?

Future Barry: I told you so?

You: Ahh, crap.

Future Barry: What? What is it?

You: Savitar, said the same thing to me, when I fought him last.

Future Barry: So?

You: You always say it. When I said something will work, he says it won't work. I doesn't work and he says I told you so.

Future Barry: And?

You: I need to get back to my time. But first I'm fixing up this time.

Time Skip:

Future Cisco: Team Flash back together.

You: Well I have to head back.

Future Julian: Thanks for..getting us back together.

Future H.R: Yeah, and this is the first time i'm ever agreeing with this guy.

Future Julian: Hey!

Future Joe: And umm, thanks for making us a family, agian.

Future Barry: We got a long ways to go.

You: Yeah, you do. But you also need to convince Future me, too come back.

Future Cisco: We'll do. Also....Movie night and Pizza on me!

Future Barry: I'll be there in a minute!

You: So this is goodbye.

Future Barry: Well, more like a 'see you later'.

You: Yeah.

Future Barry: I wish I could help you. Believe me I do.

You: But you trapped Savitar in the speed force, just tell me how you did it.

Future Barry: I had help.

You: Help from who?

Future Barry: A physicist. Her name's Tracy Brand. She made the Speed Force trap for me.

You: Why wouldn't you tell me this before?

Future Barry: Because she didn't figure out the technology until four years ago.

You: Four years after Iris died.

Future Barry: Mm-hmm.

You: [sighs]

Future Barry: Hang on. I don't know where she is. And I don't understand anything that's on here. But that's got all her information on it. Maybe when you go back, you can find her and I don't know, she can decipher it for you. I hope so.

You: [chuckles softly] Thanks.

Future Barry: There's also something else.

You: What?

Future Barry: Give this to Barry. You can use it to when you need it.

You: What is it?

Future Barry: It's a communicator. Tracy Brand also mad it, so whenever people from the past.....need help, they can use this to contact with us.

You: That's great but....

Future Barry: What?

You: If we do end up saving Iris, wouldn't that mean that, this future will get erased?

Future Barry: Let me tell something? Who is the one person that he loves more than anything in the world aside from Iris? I'll tell you....It's you Y/N. So lets say if Savitar killed you, that would mean, this future will still be the same.

You: But that doesn't make any sense.

Future Barry: If it's someone he holds dear, it will break him.

You: He loves all of us. I-what are you trying to say?

Future Barry: The only two people he loves most in this world is you, and Iris. The only way this future exist, is if Iris dies or you die, or even Joe.

You: Okay, I get that. Well I think I really need to go now.

Future Barry: I'll let you be on your way. But if Tracy can't decipher it then [sighs] just make some good memories with Iris and Barry. Hold onto 'em as tight as you can. Good luck.

You: See ya speedy.

Another Time Skip:

Barry: So, what'd you find out?

You: Well, I talked to your future self.

Barry: What'd he say? Did he tell you who Savitar is?

You: No. But I did get a lead. He had help to defeat Savitar.

Iris: Who helped him?

You: Tracy Brand built the speed trap for him. But the problem is that she didn't figure out the technology until, four years after iris died. But, this....has all of her information on it. Now if we can find her, she might be able to help.

Wally: Well, lets get to work. H.R, Barry, Cisco, Y/N, find Tracy. Team Flash, on three.

Barry: One.

Y/N: Two.

Cisco: Three.

All: Team Flash!

[thegoldfiles]

Blurry sent me an ask today

I won't include the ss because he seems angry in this one (idk if Kev will post it though cause I've spent a long time typing out this ask and I do NOT want to go out and check and rewrite this entire thing AGAIN😭) But he's holding a grudge against me for accidentally outing him as trans to his dad, which happened back in July 23rd and it happened in twitter replies.

1), I didn't mean to blurry, I assumed your dad was purposely misgendering you, especially when he was being transphobic to me calling me "a little whatever you are", plus, my other assumptions was that your dad had twitter, and I thought he knew your socials and you were openly trans online. However, I shouldn't have assumed and kept quiet about it, Kev told me about it back in July and I felt guilty finding out about it. Here are old messages from July when I was talking to Kev about my mistake:

No, starry (they're a follower of mine), wasn't apart of it, it was only me who accidentally outed you as trans to your dad, not Kev, not Kev's friends, only me. If there was anyone else, they had nothing to do with us.

2) your dad was threatening me and another minor, alongside with threatening to 'find where Kev lives' alongside with violence, your dad has said to another minor "you're 17? I'll wait" with more of the violence he said to us with "they'll put me away once they'll see what I'm about to do to you", and all because he wanted to protect you

My evidence? The twitter replies are deleted, but I'll show them anyways as you can see the dates on the replies and the context in my replies (you can see when I outed blurry as trans in one of them, a couple times infact)

- I know I posted the proper evidence on my twitter back in July, however when I search through my tweets, twitter is being a pain in the ass. BUT once I find the proper evidence, I'll send them in! I'm not sure if I posted them on this blog before, I think I did? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

- I got a new phone a couple months ago, so no I don't have any backed up pictures, my evidence is lost! But I can always rely on my old twitter posts, and with this blog and Kev, since they archive a lot of evidence.

- it's suspected that Marcy and blurry are still friends, if you guys don't know even though I talked about it twice, Marcy is a groomer and stole 3-4 OCS from Kev and tried to sell them. I talk about it a couple times in the ss with me and blurrys dad in the twitter replies. cause blurry for all we know is probably still friends with the two predatory proship artist creators, I even once told him about one of them with their bad behaviour and like 6 months later he's still talking to them and is in their helluva boss discord server. Blurry once reached out to me on Tumblr and I told him stuff about mob, he said they weren't mutuals and that he'd stop talking to mob, but then me and Kev find out blurry rebranded after he deleted all of his accounts and went into mobs discord helluva boss server despite what we told blurry about mob with given evidence 😭

3) anyways, continuing, you and your sister disregarded your dad's actions, your sister went out to DM Kev and to tell her to stop, however I won't forget how the both of you defended your dad's actions in threatening kids with creepy behaviour.

Although, I told Kev back then to split blurry and blurrys dads behaviour, as I felt like blurry shouldn't have any blame with his dad's actions. But blurry and his sister instead just tried to downplay their dad's actions towards me, Kev and a minor. Even if his dad is sorry, he shouldn't have done any of that in the first place.

Anyways, blurry sent an ask to Kev too (I know the blog already seen this but I'll still include it) this one doesn't seem personal like what blurry sent to me. Because this is just plain vile and deserves to be on display, sorry blurry ┐(´ー｀)┌

Here you are, calling Kev and her friends "harassers" yet you send in this ask to Kev. Calling her art shit, with other insults.

I understand you're angry blurry, but I'll have you know that just yesterday, Kev was planning to make a doc on you and Marcy, when I told Kev not to (for now)

Infact, there are times I told Kev to consider at least some of your opinions. but instead it disappoints me that you send in a hateful ask to Kev out of anger, I don't know what happened, If this has to do with Kev making a debunk thread on twitter, or if it's me talking about Marcy here and suspecting the two of you are still friends, despite the fact Marcy is a groomer and stole Kev's OCS plenty of times.

I'm aware both blurry and Kev talk crap about each other's art style, however I don't want to be involved in that, cause I can't do anything about that 💀

However I don't agree with anyone and everyone here talking crap about each other's art style, cause that's none of my business and it shouldn't be anyone elses. However that's frequently normal when it comes to a 'problematic content creator' with their art style. people shit on the danganronpa art style a lot on twitter, same with the fnf art style sometimes, etc etc. However it shouldn't go far to where it involves harassment. Now blurry bursted out in anger for whatever reason and just sends in a sudden ask to Kev with insults 😭

^^^^^^

Yeah, we got evidence of Blurry's dad saying that stuff to Starry and Kev as shown here and here

The guy's being a literal hypocrite like always, not only insulting Kev but insulting an entire streaming service, basically an entire community. It's insane