#because he knows what its like to lose everything
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Just Peachy | E.M
TJ’s 2K request celebration!
Anonymous asked: Hey i was wondering if i could request a friends to lovers eddie x reader, its romantic and the tension finally breaks, its their first time with each other and the reader absolutely blows his mind sucking and fucking him, shes the best hes ever had and he wasnt expecting it to be THAT good, hes just sprawled out flushed and sweaty like hes seen god 🤭🤭 Im just imagining him trying to get up to pee and his legs give out, he face plants in the hallway, his cheeks just out 🍑 and youre both giggling
wc: 2.9k
Cw: friends to lovers, your and Eddie’s first time together, smut, oral (f + m) , p in v, talks about cuming inside but Eddie is wearing a condom.
Concealing your emotions around Eddie had become increasingly taxing over the past couple of months. Although you've been friends for a little over a year, you couldn't help but notice that something had shifted in your interactions with him.
You felt giddy when you were together. Your face, cheeks, and ears would feel on fire whenever he complimented you. You also found yourself thinking about him first thing in the morning, and when your head hit the pillow, fantasies of you and he would play in your mind until you fell asleep.
The flirting between the two of you was so unbelievably blatant, and any time you innocently did it in front of your friends, they would make gagging noises. You never thought much of it because that’s just how you and Eddie were, that’s how you’ve always been, it was never serious for you, until it was.
It was one particular comment he had made that made it all switch for you. It was late at night, and you and he had been smoking together at his place. He’d told you that “you are the only person in the whole world who makes him feel whole.” You could have kissed him right then and there, and that thought scared you.
Ever since that night, Eddie has always been at the forefront of your mind, especially on the night of that party, when he expressed his feelings for you during a game of truth or dare.
In all honesty, Eddie had been set up by Dustin and Steve. They were tired of hearing him go on and on about you for a year and a half, so they fed Eddie a bunch of alcohol and insisted on playing a game of truth or dare.
Finally, when it was time, Steve asked Eddie, “Who do you like?” He drunkenly but confidently said your name. You hadn’t believed him because he was so drunk, but Nancy reminded you, “Drunken thoughts are sober words.”
When you were both sober the next morning, you marched your way to the trailer to set the record straight. You needed to know if what Eddie said had any slice of truth to it. At first, he refused to even look at you, embarrassed by his actions, but when you confronted him about it, he could only nod his head ‘yes.’
Your stomach erupted with butterflies as he confessed he’d always liked you like that. Like more than a friend. He didn’t want to lose you because you’re one of the most important people in his life.
You didn’t let him finish speaking because your lips were on his. This kiss was everything that you had wanted it to be. It’s the type of kiss you’ve only been dreaming about every night before going to bed.
After one of the best makeout sessions of your life, Eddie insisted he take you out on a proper date before things moved forward because “you deserve the world.” His words, not yours.
Dating Eddie was fun and easy. You were such good friends before, so you were already comfortable with one another, but now you got to steal kisses and hold each other's hands without worry. The only problem was that you’ve been on five dates with Eddie, and neither of you has yet to make a move past steamy makeouts.
It was weird, in a way. He was your friend, and you didn’t want to seem too pushy, and neither did he. You both were too chicken to let one another’s hands roam too far without worrying about the other's reaction.
Eddie didn’t even know if you would want to have sex with him. You said you liked one another more than a friend, but you were you. You are everything to Eddie, and if he fucked this up by moving too quickly, he would never forgive himself. So, he played it safe.
Stolen kisses on cheeks, innocent hand holding—he wouldn’t initiate further than kissing until you wanted, but the problem was that you and he never talked about it, and he was not picking up on your signals.
It was coming to the end of your sixth date with Eddie, and you would be damned if you let the night end with you in your separate beds.
Eddie walked you to your door and went for a kiss goodnight, but you stopped him, “I want you to come inside.” You smiled sheepishly, and Eddie, nothing but your local follower, humbly listened to your request.
“Can I get you a drink? You ask as you guide him to your living room couch.
“Sure, I’ll take whatever you’re having.” Eddie rubs his sweaty hands over his jeans.
You come back a few moments later with two beer bottles in hand.
“Thanks,” Eddie smiles, seemingly more comfortable.
“Eddie, can we talk about something?” You ask nervously as you sit down.
Shit, here it was. You want to go back to just friends.
“S-sure” Eddie swallows the lump in his throat, the confidence suddenly drained out of his body.
“Do you think I’m attractive?”
“What?” This is not where he thought the conversation was going.
“We’ve known each other for so long, and this is our first date, and we haven’t… you know…” You look down, embarrassed to say what is on your mind.
“Haven’t what, sweetheart.”
You take a deep sigh, building up your confidence.
“Sex.”
“Oh uh-I”
“It’s ok if you’re not attracted to me-“
“What! No! God no!”
“Then why haven’t you made a move?”
“I didn’t want to scare you away…”
“Scare me away?
“ I’m obsessed with you to the point it’s a bit embarrassing.”
“And I’m not obsessed with you?” You counter back.
“I didn’t think you’d be into me like that…”
“It’s all I think about.”
That was the confirmation that Eddie needed to hear.
“So do you uh,” he ears his throat, “want to umm.”
“Yes,” you nod your head enthusiastically.
Slowly, Eddie leans in to kiss you. It’s soft and gentle until you lean in and press into his lips more.
A low moan leaves Eddie’s throat, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as his hands trail up your upper thigh to your waist, pulling your body closer and closer until you are straddled on top of him.
Finally, he was taking control like you had wanted for so long. You pulled away to catch your breath, pushing Eddie’s brown tendrils out of the way so you could latch your lips onto the side of his neck.
“Mmmm, baby,” he moaned.
Your heart skipped a beat with his words; that was the first time he’d called you that, and you yearned for more.
“God, I want you so bad.” his breath had become heavy as his chest pumped up and down.
“You have me, baby,” you bravely let slip the pet name.
“Fuck” he groaned as the blood rushed down to his stiffening cock.
“How do you want me?” Your confidence was growing with each passing touch.
“Fuuuuuck, you can’t just say shit like that to me, sweetheart.”
“Why not?” You pout playfully.
You could feel his cock against your cunt, and you rolled your hips to test out the waters.
“Oooh! You are a dirty girl.” Eddie grits through his teeth as he stills your hips by gripping onto your ass, and a wave of arousal floods your lace panties. The panties you’ve been saving for each passing date.
“Can I suck your cock?”
“Yes,” Eddie blurts out without a second passing thought.
You slide off the couch, and Eddie shifts forward for you before he undoes his pants while you place a pillow under your knees.
The butterflies in your stomach still haven’t settled as you wait impatiently to see what he looks like. From what you could feel in his lap, he wouldn’t disappoint you.
As Eddie shifts the fabric uncovering his cock, your mouth waters with anticipation. You’re mesmerized by the sight of it, it’s long and thick, and the tip is so pink it’s just begging to be sucked, kissed and licked.
Eddie watches as your face turns into a grin as you bite your lip. You’re entirely giddy as you lean forward to take his hard length in your hand.
A soft “fuck” leaves Eddie’s lips as the tips of your fingers brush the shaft and take it into your gentle fingertips.
“You’re so big,” you purr.
Eddie was about to respond but your mouth is enveloping his cock.
“Oh my god,” he sputters. He cannot believe that this is his life, that he is here with you at this very moment. He never thought his most intimate daydreams would one day come to fruition.
Eddie snapped out of his own head as you sunk down lower and lower until you reached the back of your throat. You tried to breathe through your nose, but it was too much, so you returned to catch your breath.
“Holy shit, baby!”
There he goes, throwing around that word again, which makes you melt for him. All you want is to please him, to make him feel good.
“You like that baby? You like sucking on my cock?”
Fuck, he has a dirty mouth.
A whiny “mmmmmhmmmmm” fills the room and only enhances Eddie’s pleasure.
You feel his hands grip your hair, pushing it out of the way for you. So ever the gentleman.
“Need to see you, pretty girl.” There was no way Eddie was missing the sight of you taking him in your mouth because a bit of hair was in the way.
Eddie was trying everything in his power to not buck up his hips into you and down your throat. You were making it so hard because you were so good at this. Too good…but Eddie couldn’t let his mind wander about how you are so good at head. No, he will allow himself to enjoy this moment. He’s waited 20 months for this moment.
“Baby, baby, baby,” he chanted as your mother slid up and showed the shaft, swirling your tongue on the tip each time before repeating it over and over and over again.
You can’t help but touch yourself as you’re also pleasuring your boyfriend. The way his words were affecting your body was too much to ignore any longer.
“Oh my god, you’re so hot; I need you; I need you now.” he watched as your fingers slipped between your skirt and your ruined panties, and he couldn’t take it anymore. God, he wanted to fuck you so badly.
“Mmmmmm, Eddie, please fuck me.” You remove your mouth and replace it with your hand as you jerk him off.
Your face is dripping with the mix of pre cum and saliva. Your eye makeup was a little smudged from the tears from when you gagged on his cock, but Eddie never thought you looked more beautiful.
“Come here.”
“You going to ride me baby? Show me how much you want me? Or are you going to let me fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
“Who needs legs anyway” you let out a shaky laugh.
Eddie’s face morphed into a mischievous grin as he threw you over his shoulder and brought you to the bedroom.
He flopped you on your back, and you landed with a giggle that quickly was cut off by a hot kiss.
Before you knew it, you were both finally naked, and Eddie was taking in every inch of you like he was committing your body to memory.
“Perfect,” Eddie whispered before leaning in to kiss you. “Perfect,” he moved down to kiss your neck. “Perfect.” He muttered into your breast, taking a pebbled nipple into his mouth and making you arch up into him. He repeated his actions until he got to your weeping pussy.
“Oh baby, look at you, you’ve been crying for me, haven’t you… You just want so much attention; that’s why you’re so wet for me. Don’t worry. I need you just as badly.” He stuck out his tongue and ran it up your slick slit making you let out a long, drawn-out moan.
“There’s my girl.”
Another wave of arousal washes through you at the term of endearment.
“Holy shit,” you try and catch your breath, but his tongue keeps going.
Eddie fucks your pussy with his tongue so good you can’t believe this is real. He’s eating you like you’re his last meal, and he’s enjoying every last drop.
“Eddie, baby, oh god!” You’re cuming in his tongue before you even comprehend what’s happening to your body.
“Did you just!” He pops up in shock that he was able to make you cum in a few short minutes. In all honesty, he was kinda sad it didn’t last longer. He loved being between your legs. It was his new favourite spot.
A breathy “uh-huh” leaves your chest as you soak in the euphoria.
“Can we…. Do you want to?…. I can—”
“Fuck me. Fuck me now, please. I don’t want to walk tomorrow.” You begged in your fucked-out needy state.
“Keep talking like that baby.”
“I need you so bad; I’ve wanted you to fuck me for so long, please, Eddie.”
You were so long in your begging that by the time you had finished talking g Eddie already had on the condom and was aligning himself with your pussy.
“Are you ready?” he asked, and you answered by pulling him into another long, passionate kiss—one full of wanting and need, one that was much overdue.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Eddie mumbles before he slowly slips himself into you.
The stretch was so good; you had been more than prepared for his cock, so when he entered you, all you felt was pleasure.
“Oh god.” You clawed at his back, biting down on his shoulder, pussy clamping down on him.
“Fuck, your pussy is so tight.” Eddie was already having a hard time fighting off his orgasm as his hips slowly rocked back and forth into you.
“More.” You plead.
Eddie situated himself so he could fuck you like he meant it, to fuck you so good you’re seeing stars.
“Be careful what you wish for, baby.” You had no idea what was coming when it came to sex with Eddie.
He was an animal, a beast, a man untamed.
His hips start getting faster, and his movements are calculated and raw. Each undulation of his hips into you was so delicious you could no longer think. You’re crying out as his cock hits your sweet spot in each thrust. He works his cock into your pussy as it sucks him in each time, taking him in willingly and refusing to let go.
“That’s it, baby, taking my cock so good” he watches as his cock disappears inside of you, gripping onto your soft inner thighs to spread your legs as wide as they can go.
“Look at that baby,” his thumb brushes your swollen clit, “so pretty and puffy for me,” he praises, and your pussy clamps down on him once again.
“Oh, she likes it when I’m nice to her, huh?”
Fuck he needs to stop talking to your pussy, or else you can’t hold on much longer.
“I want to come!”
“Come on, my cock, baby, show me you’re mine.”
That did it for you. Your second orgasm takes over your mind, body and spirit. Your floating on a cloud as Eddie rolls his cock into it and runs your clit so good you’re seeing stars.
Eddie is out of breath, but he still continues chasing after his own orgasm.
“I want you to come,” you mindlessly say, not realizing you're talking.
“Yeah? You want me to fuck you full of my cum. Is that what you want?”
“Please! Give it to me, baby,” you pout, and the look on your face sends Eddie over the edge.
Jagged breaths fill the silent room as Eddie collapses on top of you before he rolls over to catch his breath.
“Wow.” Is all you say before giggling.
“Did I rock your world or what.”
“Yeah,” you sigh. It's too bad it took you this long to do it; we could have been doing this for weeks now.”
“Hey, come here,” he drags you into his arms, stealing another kiss.
“I’m going to get a towel.” Eddie sits up on the edge of the bed so he can take off the soiled condom and toss it in the trash.
Not realizing how shaky his legs are, they give out, and he falls forward.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” You start laughing.
“God damn, I fucked you good, didn’t I?” he laughs.
“And you said I was the one who couldn’t walk tomorrow.” You shriek in a fit of giggles as Eddie lay on the floor, ass up face down.
“You’re a goddamn succumbs, you know that? Sucked the life right out of me.” He laughs into the floor.
“Your ass is like a fuzzy peach, I want t to bite it.”
“Why don’t you come over?” he says, dragging you into his arms. And have a taste, then.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x best friend reader
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SO MUCH TO LOSE PART 12
rating: 18+
tags: mentions of death, mentions of violence, fingering, dirty talk, jealousy, angst.
a/n: I'm sorry y'all lunch with friends ran late and it's definitely not the afternoon anymore! But here it is! I know y'all have waited a long time for this so I hope its to your liking. It's over 12,000 words and I swear I could write more but then I'd never publish anything. You know your comments and reblogs make me continue on, so please don't forget to do one of the other or even better, both!
masterlist here
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"Wake up."
You jolt awake, eyes blowing wide. You instinctively go for the clock at your beside at home but it's not there. Nothing is where it usually is. As your sleepy mind clears you see two brown eyes staring down at you.
"Time to go. Get dressed."
You clothes are dried and laying beside you on the couch and the dead fire. The already dressed Joel leaves the room likely to give you privacy. You get dressed in a hurry, pulling your clothes and boots on before stumbling after Joel.
"Did you sleep much?"
"Yep. Plenty."
You don’t believe him. There are large circles under his eyes and he yawns so wide that his jaw cracks. You think maybe he got an hour tops.
You follow him down to see the horses huddled up together in the center of the room. Joel obviously used two of the blankets from upstairs because they’re thrown over each of the horses’ backs. They give a soft whinny as the two of you approach.
“Sure am missing breakfast,” you muse with a sleepy smile. “Even that oatmeal that sticks to the roof of my mouth.”
Joel’s mouth curls a bit at one side in amusement. You busy yourself with kissing Chestnut’s muzzle once more before you feel Joel tap you.
“Here.”
You glance over to see Joel holding a piece of jerky out to you. You take it gratefully before pausing.
“Wait, isn’t this your portion?”
“Ate mine already.”
He’s lying.
He gave you all the jerky. Let you drink the rest of his coffee. Even shared his precious whiskey.
“You sure?”
Joel hefts the saddles onto each of the horses, making sure that they’re secured as you gaze at him in question. He feels you staring at him and instead of his usual snark he just glances over gives you a nod.
“Ready to go?”
“Mhm.”
You and Chestnut follow he and Midnight out the house, helping the horses to slowly maneuver down the icy steps into the snow. Even after the storm it comes to above your ankles. Joel frowns, looking down at it.
“We’re gonna have to walk ‘em back. Don’t trust that they won’t hurt themselves in all this.”
“Of course.”
You trail after him, eyes stuck on the ground in front of you.
Joel leads, you follow.
And instead of angering you or making you feel small and useless, it makes you bloom. Like a flower warmed by the sun, its petals unfurling. You feel yourself smiling to yourself a big, toothy grin that you’re glad Joel can’t see. He’d ask you why and you’re not sure that you could answer him sufficiently. You don’t quite understand it yourself.
The walk back is long, especially with the horses moving unsteadily over the snow. Thankfully Chestnut is easily led, unlike last night. The worst of the storm is behind you, leaving only the crunch of icy snow and trees heavy with white.
Your cheeks and end of your nose are pink from the cold, the scarf tight around your throat. Your fingers are warm in your gloves and you're relieved that everything dried sufficiently in front of the fire last night. You glance at Joel’s broad back, suddenly fixated on an errant thought.
“Joel can I ask you something?”
He visibly cringes. “What?”
“How did you get so good at shooting and fighting?”
His shoulders relax. “Practice.”
“You didn’t fight or shoot before Outbreak Day?”
“Only when I had to get Tommy out of scrapes,” Joel says quietly and you notice he’s slowed his walking until you’ve matched paces and you’re both walking side by side. “I did some boxing when I was younger. Didn’t have much time when Sar- when I got older. The shooting came after. A necessary skill when you’re smugglin’.”
You nod, knowing that he was about to bring up his daughter. Despite the closeness you feel, you have no desire to delve into that very heavy topic. You’re curious about his smuggling as well, but you don’t want to bring that up either as it seems strangely personal.
“You learn pretty quick that anything can be a weapon,” Joel continues on as if you’re a particularly engaged student. “A book, a candlestick, even an unloaded gun can hit a pretty bad blow to the base of someone’s skull. You might not kill ‘em but you’ll hurt ‘em enough to get away.”
To you a book is a book, a candlestick a candlestick. You don’t see things as potential weapons, only for their intended uses
“I never really thought of that,” you admit. “Although I wish I was more of a natural at shooting.”
"Needed to keep up with your lessons," Joel murmurs and you think you hear a softening of his tone. "I could try teachin' you again."
"I've already got someone teaching me," you tell him, back straight and standing tall. You tell Joel this in the pathetic hopes that it will impress him, that he will see how you’re really trying. But instead he scowls at the air in front of him.
“If it’s that Luke boy you’re better off goin’ in blind,” Joel says, eyes fixed in front of him. “He couldn’t even hit a nail straight. Some fuckin’ cabinetmaker.”
Luke is most assuredly not a boy; he’s at least thirty five. Joel calling him a boy makes you smirk despite being irritated at the insult to your friend.
“You don’t even know Luke.”
Joel looks sullen and you're confused that he's angry again. You really can't anticipate his moods.
The two of you continue on in silence and you think that Joel seems a bit irritated for some reason you can’ unearth. Likely just exhausted like you are after a stressful day and uneven sleep.
"Thought you wanted to be a good shot?” Joel says suddenly, glancing at you over his shoulder. “You need a competent teacher."
"I have a competent teacher and it isn't Luke anyway," you bite off, a line of irritation slicing between your brows.
"Who? Aaron? Greg?" Joel's voice is hard edged. His pace increases with every name said. "Kevin?"
“If you must know its Jennifer,” you sigh, irritable from your poor sleep and Joel’s sudden sullenness.
"Jennifer?" Joel's brows untie his features relaxing.
“I know how much you hate me bringing her up,” you sneer. “But I can’t really avoid it now can I?”
Joel gives a grunt by way of reply all the while your mind drifts to your friend. The girl who likes Joel and has for a long while. Jennifer the girl who has always been up front and honest with you.
What will you tell her?
He's quiet with you on the walk back and you wonder if he's distracted like you. He's likely tired like you are, muscles aching from the lumpy couch. Now you know how those muscles feel against your cheek and the memory makes you feel tingly.
In your distracted state and the slick of the snow you tumble, landing on your hands and hissing. Angry tears well in your eyes and you wince at the way your wrist smarts.
"Fuck."
Your knees and are wet from snow and you miserably wait for the chastising or rolled eyes shot your way by Joel. Instead you hear the crunch of snow and he's there half-crouched in front of you, one hand on Midnight's reins, the other held out to you.
You stare at it a moment, the glove wide and cracked with age. Then finally you take it, lifting your eyes to his. You're surprised to find concern.
"You alright?"
"Yeah."
"You good to keep goin'?"
"Uh huh."
He nods and then he turns, dropping your hand and striding back with the horse towards the trail.
You watch the back of Joel's head as he saunters ahead of you, listening to his quiet murmurs to Midnight and fixating on the loose curl of his hair at the nape of his neck. You're captivated by the interwoven strands of dark brown and grey that glint like tinsel in the light of the morning.
You're concerned that the thought of Joel makes your belly grow warm and tighten. The man who previously drove you insane with irritation now lingers in your thoughts almost pleasantly.
He shared things with you. Things you have a feeling he doesn't share with many others. He told you about Tess and he wanted to know about you. So what does that mean? Does he see you as more than just a pleasurable release?
Do you want him to?
You don't know how to feel about Joel right now. And you don’t know what you’re going to tell Jennifer if she asks.
When you cross into Jackson City cold and exhausted a few hours later you're surprised to hear loud commotion behind the wall and electrified fence.
"It's them!"
"Open the fucking gate!"
You and Joel exchange a brief look before the entrance is opened to you and you stalk forward. You see the large group gathered at the wall on the other side, thankful that the snow has been shovelled.
The entrance to the gate is full of the other patrol members looking like they're about to head out. You glance behind you to see the snow storm kicking back up just as the gate is closed and locked securely behind you. You glance back at the
Tommy is giving a relieved huff of air as he sees you both slowly make your way inside the walls, the horses trailing after you.
Jennifer is atop Glimmer; talking animatedly to a new patrol person you don't know. She looks beside herself, her eyes red-rimmed. When she turns back and sees you she lets out a choked sob and scrambles off Glimmer before she runs in your direction, nearly tackling you into a tight embrace.
"I was so worried," she says, voice shaky. "Luke and I were up all night just waiting for word. I was gonna go with the search party and-and-"
"I'm here in okay," you say with a slight laugh, your arms banding around her as she hiccups a cry into your shoulder. "I swear I'm okay."
You notice the timid form of Ellie over Jennifer's shoulder. She sees you first and casts a brief smile at you before her eyes search the crowd for Joel. When she hears him snapping at Tommy to give him breathing room you see the tears she blinks back. You watch as Ellie slips through the crowd chasing after his voice.
When she gets to him there's no hesitation on his part. He brings her into his arms and murmurs something into her ear. Ellie's face crumples but she buries it in the front of Joel's jacket, her tiny hands gripping the front of it.
She loves him so much.
You catch his eye over Ellie's head, not missing the gentle nod he casts your way. It warms you deeply. Things feel different between the two of you.
'I'm so glad you're okay," Jennifer says wiping the tears from her cheeks and drawing your attention back to her. "I just ... I was so scared."
"Me too," you nod, surprised to find yourself choked up. You haven’t had friendship like this before – the kind of tenderness that comes with true companionship. You wonder if this is how every friendship is supposed to feel and if so, you mourn that it took you this long to stumble upon it.
The tall, lanky form of Luke steps forward from the murmuring crowd his face breaking into a relieved expression. He jogs over in your direction and takes you aback by gathering you into his arms and rocking you tightly against him.
“Thank fuck!”
You giggle in his neck, inhaling the soft, warm scent of coffee and wool from his scarf. He holds you like this for several moments, tenderly and with affection.
"I know you wanted an adventure but honestly," he says with mock irritation into your hairline.
Laughter bubbles from the three of you, relieved and silly. You hug him back tightly, thankful for the relationships you've built, thankful for the levity he's bringing to the moment. Grateful that you found he and Jennifer at the end of the world.
You hear a throat clear behind you and you turn in Luke's grip.
Joel stares back at you, mouth in a thin line. He's got Ellie tucked under one arm, Tommy at his side and several of the others attempting to talk to him. But he’s still, the only movement his dark eyes taking you in.
You break away from Luke and move towards Joel, feeling overcome with emotion. Last night could have been so terrifying if not for the broad man standing in front of you. A sensation of deep gratitude curls around your ribs, lessening the anxiety you would normally feel in his presence.
"Thank you for everything, Joel."
You give him a warm smile, even going so far as to touch your hand to his forearm. Ellie watches this, a faint smile settling over her lips as your glove makes contact with his jacket.
You wait for that same quiet kindness from Joel that accompanied you home this morning and are confused when he pulls back from your hand stiffly, his voice melting into that familiar husky baritone.
"Mind movin' outta the way sometime this year?"
And just like that in the blink of an eye the old Joel is back. That same haughty glare, the same squaring of his jaw. You deflate, shoulders slumping before you move backwards.
Nothing has changed.
He strides by your group, the feel of his leather jacket dragging across the back of your glove.
"Must be exhausted after last night," Jennifer surmises, watching after him a moment. "You must be too."
You watch after Joel and Ellie, seeing the rigid way he walks beside her now. You think of Joel’s changeable moods and you exhale softly.
"Yeah," you nod. "I am."
///
Jennifer insists on walking you home and makes sure you are taken care of. She draws you a bath and leaves to bring you back a warm lunch from the dining hall. She makes sure your bed is changed with fresh sheets, warming them with a water bottle from her place. She even offers to sleep on your couch in case you need anything that first evening back.
“You don’t have to do that,” you insist that evening before the fire, your robe tightly around you and socks toasty from being propped up by the flames. It reminds you of how cold you were with Joel only a day ago.
You’re close to falling asleep but you like having Jennifer in the house, nearby. You like the sound of clattering dishes and her chirping away about something in town before she’s tucked up on one side of the couch, her hands around a warm mug of tea.
“I can’t thank you enough for all of this,” you tell her, feeling moved.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s something to me.”
Jennifer smiles and you watch how the fire warms her face in an entirely different way than Joel. Instead of looking intimidating, it’s like she softens in the warm light. She looks sad though in a way you don’t recall from before.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you here,” she finally says with a cracked chuckle, her long neck bobbing as she swallows.
“Yeah right. You have so many friends,” you say. “I’ve barely ever seen you alone. You always have company.”
“Company, but not real friends,” she tells you. “Not ones who don’t judge me.”
You recall your initial judgments of the beautiful, blonde Jennifer. That she was giggly and frivolous and that she lived to gather men. You’d had no idea of her tough upbringing, of all she sacrificed, of her talents, of her unending support. You wonder how many others you judged in your life and missed out on the pleasure of knowing.
“I judged you,” you tell her honestly. “When I first met you I thought you were a vapid, pretty flirt.”
Jennifer is immediately laughing across from you, wiping the tension from your face.
“Yeah but everyone makes judgments like that with strangers! I made judgments about you before I got to know you too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I thought you were an antisocial bitch,” Jennifer says with a crooked grin and you can’t help but bark out a laugh in reply.
“What?”
“You never spoke to anyone, never smiled. You were always reading or walking off by yourself.” Jennifer smirks. “You intimidated the shit out of me.”
“No,” you say in awe. “I intimidated you?”
“Of course!” Jennifer giggles. “So serious and always reading. Plus you just carried yourself in a way that felt. . . it felt like you had walls up, you know?”
You realize that Jennifer is very astute amongst her other gifts.
“Then I saw Ellie with you that morning,” she adds. “And I figured, maybe like Joel there was more to you than met the eye. Then I heard you were on patrols with Joel and the rest is history.”
Yeah, the rest is history.
You can’t help but curl your lip in amusement. Who knew a chance patrol pairing could lead you into a friendship you’d never thought possible? Jennifer shuffles back on the couch, looking cozy in her latest fashion piece (a cable knit looking sweater with felted strawberry accents).
Jennifer is quiet, staring into the fire. She seems strangely stoic today and you feel like it’s not just from your disappearance. You give her a sidelong glance, lips pressed tightly together. She looks off into middle distance, her normally mirth-filled eyes suddenly hollow.
"You okay, Jen?"
She doesn’t reply, only turns her head to glance in your direction when you prompt her with a gentle tap to her wrist, settling back into the couch before turning to look at you head on.
“Just a tough time of year,” Jennifer acknowledges as she tosses a twig in the fire. She looks different tonight, like a ghostly version of herself.
You surmise that perhaps with the approaching holidays she’s feeling down in the mouth. It's like that with lots of folks. You shift your body to face her, showing her that you're listening and you wait for her to talk, holding the silence for her.
She looks to be fighting an internal debate.
"I shot a kid."
She says it with a choke, as if the words are fighting to come loose from her throat. These weren't the words you'd been expecting from the beautiful, flirty Jennifer. These words are ugly, twisted and cold.
“I’ve only told a few people,” she adds, chin wobbling.
You stare at her, eyes unwavering, waiting. Words aren't your strong suit. All you can offer her is a steady silence. She absently scratches at the side of the warm mug she holds.
"This was years ago around this time," she continues, her eyes downcast. "I was with my brothers and we were going through to one of the safety zones. We'd found this old market, had some tinned goods. My brothers go to check out the back and I go down an empty aisle thinking I might find something useful."
Jennifer swallows harshly, her teacup held so tightly her knuckles look parchment white.
"All of a sudden this kid comes out of nowhere. Couldn't have been more than ten. He's skin and bones, wild eyes saying these words over and over, a bunch that I don't understand. He had a knife in his hand and I thought he was trying to come for me. I didn't even think, I just raised the gun and I shot him between the eyes."
You can almost hear the echo of that gunshot in the silent room now.
Jennifer is staring over your shoulder, like she can see the ghostly apparition of the fallen child behind you. It makes goosebumps rise along your body, and you continue to keep your even silence. You know that she doesn't want you embrace or your pity, just your presence.
"My brother's told me I did what was smart,” Jennifer whispers. “Told me to move on. But his face when he was dead, his shrieking, it just kept playing over and over in my head. When I went to bed, when I woke up. It felt wrong."
Tears slide down her cheeks now, as quick as she brushes them away with the edge of her sweater, new ones appear, soaking into the wool.
"I came to Jackson a few months after that. My brothers wanted to keep goin', they heard about some place in Canada that they thought would be a better fit for us. But... I needed a fresh start where no one knew me, where I could be someone totally new. They were upset to leave me, but I pretty much insisted on it."
You shift in your seat, listening intently. Jennifer has this sickening look on her face and you know behind her eyes is a memory of this terrible experience. It makes you want to hold her hand but she’s folded into herself and you don’t want to force her into anything.
"So I was living here in Jackson a few months and I’m at the dining hall one night and I hear this woman speaking another language. At first I barely notice, but then I realize this word keeps popping up. Pomoz. Pomoz. Same as that kid."
At this point Jennifer places her empty teacup on the aged wood coffee table. She stretches her long legs before pulling them to her chest. She sniffs again, unable to meet your gaze.
"Turns out he was speaking Polish. So I tell the lady the sentence that has been haunting me for months and months and I ask her for the translation." Jennifer swipes along the bottom of her runny nose with the back of her sweater.
"You know what he was saying?"
You don't move. Not even to shake your head.
"He was saying help me. I'm lost." Jennifer's lower lip trembles. "Pomóż mi, zgubiłem się. He was just a kid begging for my help and I shot him dead without thinking."
Now the sobs come, wracking her slim body as she curls into herself.
"That little b-boy died on a dirty supermarket floor alone and scared because of me."
You can't help it if it isn't in your nature; your hands go to Jennifer's and hold tightly. And when her warm teardrops land on the back of them you move forward to wrap her in your arms. You haven’t held someone to comfort them in so long that it feels foreign to you, but you grip her tightly, letting her tears soak the front of your nightdress.
You don’t offer her saccharine words of comfort, you don’t give her pity, you just hold her until the tears stop flowing and her breathing returns to normal. Even after all of that you continue to hold her until she squeezes back, letting you sit there in the quiet night.
"Thank you," Jennifer finally says in a croaked voice before pulling back. You tilt your head at her.
"For what?"
"For letting me talk about this stuff and not judging me." She pushes her hair from her glassy eyes.
"You did what anyone else would have done," you assure her honestly. “I know you don’t believe it, but you did. How could I judge that?”
"I think you're the first person who I ever told this to who didn't look at me like I was a piece of shit," she says with a forced laugh. You shake your head.
"I could never look at you like that.”
She gives you a wry smile. "Oh yeah? Why's that? Cuz I taught you to shoot?"
You give her a weak smile in return.
"Because... You reminded me about the good parts of life. Of having friends and singing and drinking tea. You made me leave my cave and come blinking out into the sunshine again."
Jennifer looks moved by your words, her large eyes growing glossier.
"I think that's why I wanted to get to know you," Jennifer observes with a sniffle. "It felt like you were outrunning something too. Trying to forget."
You look at your hands in your lap before giving a resolute nod.
"Yeah."
"Sometimes I think that's why I like to distract myself with crushes or teaching people to shoot or makin' dresses," she muses. "Being alone with my thoughts too much is..."
She doesn't finish that thought but she doesn't need to.
You couldn't understand more.
And then its like she’s trying to push back this burdensome memory and she forces a smile to her face. You can see her adopting this persona, this safety person that she hides behind. Happy, bright, Jennifer who flirts and shoots and rides horses and drinks beer at the Bison. And you let her slip into this character because you are no one to judge how a person chooses to survive.
“So tell me, what was it like being there with Joel at night?” she asks with a sidelong smirk in your direction. “I know he’s not your favorite person.”
Before when Jennifer asked you about Joel it used to irritate you. You thought she was using you for your information. But when she asks you now there’s nothing but amusement, like two grade-school girls discussing their crush from third period biology.
“I thought about you actually,” you grin toothily. “Thought about how you’d give anything to swap spots with me.”
Jennifer does a fake swoon, falling dramatically backward; the back of her hand on her forehead and you can’t help but bust out giggling. Jennifer giggles right back, sitting back up and bouncing in her seat.
“Tell me everything!”
You can’t tell her everything.
You give her the bullet points; the thundersnow, the horses, Joel’s calves. You leave out that you were both naked under the blankets sharing whiskey, you leave out that he went down on you for hours and you definitely leave out the part about waking up against him and falling back asleep.
“He took really good care of me,” you finish up honestly. “I thought he was gonna be a jerk but he was great.”
“Really?” Jennifer almost beaming, like she’s proud she was right about him all along.
“Yeah, I was really scared and he was really patient that night.”
“See? I told you there was something to him.”
“I guess,” you shrug. “I think it was a storm thing though. He’s gone back to being an asshole so I wouldn’t hold my hopes up.”
“Did he mention me by any chance?”
You think of how to frame this. Yeah, Joel did mention Jennifer but none of his comments were particularly flattering. But when you recall how he looked at her coming back you think it might have been to cover up his feelings. He doesn’t seem like someone who can come out and express how he feels properly.
“Yeah, actually. You came up a few times.”
Jennifer giggles to herself and you know she wants to ask more about this but you’re tired and yawning and not long after she insists you go to sleep.
Your bed has never felt more comfortable but sleep takes its time coming to you. It keeps replaying the night before; the way Joel’s dark eyes reflected the fire, the strength of his hands on your body, his tongue between your legs.
You wish your mind didn’t keep going back to last night because all you can focus on is that Joel made you come, asked for nothing in return and then in the morning made it seem like nothing happened. Then as soon as you entered inside Jackson City he made it seem like he was furious with you.
The way he acted makes you wonder if you'd imagined all his kindness and his soft touches. But no, you can still feel the sensation of his tongue between your folds, his calloused hands on your thighs, the husky groan ordering you to come. You can't stop thinking about it, actually.
It’s there lulling you to sleep, a warmth simmering in your belly.
///
You sleep in the next day, well past the breakfast hour. You don’t mind though, Jennifer had you stuffed with food up until she left at midnight telling you she could stay if you needed her to. You’re still not used to this kind of friendship, still wary that it seems too good to be true.
A glance out the window shows that some snow has fallen since yesterday, but nothing too much. Outside your street is barely touched, the sun shining gently on the earth’s creation.
You get dressed quickly, padding yourself with extra warm clothes, your red scarf and your jacket. You pull on your boots dried by the previous day’s fire and you step into the chilly mid-morning.
You like to go to the quiet parts of Jackson for your walks, enjoying the solitude. It’s in the outer part of Jackson without being in the forest, a place you never venture to. It’s an abandoned neighborhood with old houses, fencing and more.
A sharp bark is at your back and you turn to see the familiar panting dog clumsily making his way over to you through the snow.
“Hey Buckley,” you coo when he gets close enough.
Buckley is a famous figure that roams Jackson City, a dog that belongs to everyone in a way. You think you heard someone say he was a border collie mixed with something else. He’s not always in town, often he’s found by the hydroelectric dam when he’s not snoozing at Gustavo’s feet listening to the banjo.
“You being a good boy?” you muse, scratching the back of his ear when he cocks his head.
He’s a friendly dog, rarely without his prized tennis ball. He doesn’t have it with him now, and you assume he’s lost it in the snow. You shake your head at him with a soft huffing laugh.
“You wanna join me on my walk?”
Sometimes it strange to walk through the underdeveloped parts of Jackson City. The ones with power lines that poke out like jagged tombstones. The asphalt that’s cracks when you walk on it during the hot months. But you come to stand before one of your favorite buildings, the ranch, smiling as the gentle breeze turns your cheeks pink. Buckley follows at your heels, the two of you slowed down by the snow.
You avoid the forest for obvious reasons, but you enjoy walking by the old ranch because it reminds you of the kind of place you read about in books. You think that it would be nice to live in it one day. You found it once during one of your morning walks when you first arrived at Jackson City, and it’s been a sort of touchstone for you ever since.
You walk up its creaking porch steps, your fingers touching the porch swing. You can imagine it spruced up, drinking lemonade while you watch the sunset. It’s a nice fantasy, but it will remain just that. You have no building skills, you are a single occupant and you imagine when Jackson City gets big enough they’ll reserve this place for a big family or turn it into something vital.
You walk inside, immediately at ease with the gold sun of the morning that filters in through the grimy windows. The entire place is built with that warm, honey-colored wood. Threadbare carpets litter the spaces, old furniture still standing. Buckley remains outside, keeping watch as is his prerogative. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him inside anywhere.
You move over the creaking floors, taking in the dusty floors before you touch the sails of the decorate boat resting on the mantle above the hearth, a little tradition of yours. Moth-eaten curtains hang like sad bits of hair over the windows, and you gasp a little when a rat skitters by in the dining room, going to hide in one of the old cabinets. With all the cold weather they are urged indoors and you have no desire to hurt them; that’s Buckley’s job.
You’re about to head upstairs when something in the next room stops you. The kitchen area creaks with the unmistakable sound of slow, heavy footsteps. Immediately you straighten, hands going for a gun that you’re not carrying.
Fuck.
What are you gonna do? Panic threatens to seize you until a voice; low and husky is there at your ear, quelling your heartbeat.
You learn pretty quick that anything can be a weapon. A book, a candlestick, even an unloaded gun can hit a pretty bad blow to the base of someone’s skull. You might not kill ‘em but you’ll hurt ‘em enough to get away.
Your eyes go wide, taking in the mantle behind you once more. The candlesticks aren’t that heavy, the sailboat decorative. There are some books in the next room but you’ll be seen. Then your eyes drift down to the hearth and you feel relief when you see the fire implements there. You grab the poker, sure not to upset the other brass items into clanging.
The footsteps are continuing getting closer and you force yourself to remember what Jennifer has been teaching you: slow your breathing, focus, think of something that takes you to that quiet place.
Homemade pies.
Lavender soap.
Sunlight on a summer morning.
Joel’s eyes.
Before you can consider this train of thought a figure suddenly makes their way around the corner of the room, looking curiously at their surroundings. You raise the poker above your head, charging at them with a furious shriek.
The man jumps back from you, watery pale eyes bulging out of his ruddy skull. He falls backwards onto the ground, holding a hand up to shield his face as you prepare to bring the poker down on his head.
“Please! Please! I live here! Please don’t hurt me!”
Something in the frantic way he yelps stills your motions, your breathing ragged as adrenaline courses through you. You lower the poker to your side, still not releasing it entirely.
He’s short and portly and he doesn’t look particularly frightening lying there quivering on the ground.
“You don’t live here,” you tell him sharply. “This place is empty.”
“I meant I live here in the community,” the man squeaks. He can’t be younger than sixty. “Well, in a sense. I-I mean, we just got here y-yesterday. I was just looking for the soap maker; I was told she’s nearby?”
You don’t sense any real danger from this man and now you step forward, holding a hand out to him. He winces at first, thinking you mean to hit him. Then he realizes you’re not threatening him and he takes your hand gingerly.
“I’m sorry,” the man says with his voice wobbling as you pull him to a stand. “I didn’t mean to startle.”
“It’s fine. I’ve just never run into anyone here. Raiders have been seen nearby and it’s a bit high tension around lately,” you explain.
“Oh I see,” the man nods. “That explains the welcome.”
You can’t help but laugh softly at that.
“I'm Arthur," the man says shaking your hand as you introduce yourself.
Normally you would keep to yourself, but today feels different. You feel different. It prompts you to keep your face pointed to the pale man.
"You said you were new to Jackson?"
"Wife and I just arrived last night," Arthur says with a shy smile, pushing his glasses up his narrow nose. "I'm still getting my bearings. She was so excited to have running water so I was looking for soap. Someone in town told me there’s a soap maker in this direction."
“I’ll show you the way,” you say, placing the fire poker back with the other instruments beside the hearth.
“Really?”
“Sure. Follow me.”
The two of you walk into the chill of the day, Buckley standing to attention when the two of you exit. You introduce Arthur to the dog and the two of you start on your journey. Arthur is a slow walker, especially in the snow, so it takes a bit longer than you normally would.
But strangely you don’t mind. You think you might be feeling powerful from earlier; you knew what to do in a time of panic. It makes you smile, your entire disposition cheerful as Arthur talks on next to you.
“I’d like to find some work as soon as possible.”
"Of course," you nod. "You have any experience in anything?"
"Not unless someone wants their portrait done," Arthur says with a smile that shows his crowded incisors. "Back in the QZ I did some teaching. Art classes and the like."
"They could always use someone like that here," you reason.
"You think?"
"I'm sure of it. Maybe at the school? What does your wife do?"
"Penny was in the business sector before the outbreak. In the QZ she did more manual positions, disposal that sort of thing. Do you think you could find her work in something similar here?"
"Oh, I'm not in charge if that sort of stuff," you smile. "But I know who is. I'll see her this week and tell her you're eager to help out. Can I get your address?"
They live at 64 Pine and while Arthur is more of the creative type, he and his wife both have experience with cooking as well. You make a note of this for when you see Maria later this week.
Normally Maria would be on top of this sort of thing. Before Douglas' she always gave the tour's to newcomers, always had them sorted with a job before the end of their first week. But now she's distracted and subsequently Tommy is too.
People like to give, she told you that first week. Makes them feel like they’re part of something.
You and Arthur chat companionably with Buckley trailing at your ankles through the snow. Arthur and his wife have been together for thirty five years, and they’ve made it from the Virginia QZ.
“Things were just too hairy over there,” Arthur says with a shake of his head. “Me and Penny figured we couldn’t keep living like that. We heard about Jackson City through an old CB a friend had. Seemed too good to be true.”
“I get that,” you nod. “The first month I was here I barely left my house. I was convinced my place would be given away the second I walked out the door.”
“The beds!” Arthur says with a dramatic emphasis on the words. “And those clean sheets? Everything is just so. . .Fresh.”
You’re at the soap maker’s home now and while it’s still early, you can hear Hannah rustling about inside. You know if you stay she’ll insist on having you in for coffee and you feel as if your social battery is already at its limit.
“This is where I’ll leave you,” you say indicating to the home ahead. “Inside is Hannah and Herb, they’ll set you up with some soap for you and your wife.”
“Thanks so much,” Arthur says pumping your hand in his.
“Can you make it back okay on your own?”
“I’m sure.”
You smile, about to turn and head back home when something stops you. You twist around, calling after Arthur who raises his brows.
“Do you ever draw portraits?”
“Of course,” Arthur nods.
“I mean, of people you don’t know,” you say, squinting as you try to recall the term. “Kinda like sketch artists did for the police back before?”
“I can’t say it’s a specialty, but I love a challenge,” Arthur says with a little skip to his step. “And considering you were kind enough to show me here I’d love to do it for you.”
“Thanks,” you say, feeling shy. “I might just take you up on it.”
///
You’re surprised to see Maria knocking on your door later that afternoon. She’s got a sleeping Douglas strapped to her chest with a sling and she’s carrying a pie in one hand.
“I would have been here the second you got back but I only heard from Tommy what was going on late last night,” she says when you invite her in.
“No problem,” you insist warmly. “I think he was doing it to save you some stress.”
“Yeah well he got an earful,” she says with a frown. “How could he not tell me my friend was missing during a storm?”
Friend. Another friend. An embarrassment of riches. You try to tamp down the pleased smile that bleeds across your face and instead give a gentle rub to Douglas’ head, giggling as he grunts and scrunches his nose.
You tell Maria about Arthur and Penny and she nods as she feeds Douglas.
"Yep, 64 Pine. I just sent them over a welcome basket and Tommy's gone there to give 'em jobs."
"Great," you smile. Your eyes go to the gently babbling Douglas in Maria's arms. “How does he get cuter every day?”
“Must be a Miller thing,” she says laughing. “I saw a picture of Sarah once and she was so adorable.”
This intrigues you to the point of distraction.
“You saw a picture of Sarah?”
Very few people had photos or memorabilia from their homes that survived Outbreak Day. You don’t know anyone personally who has photos of their family.
“Yeah, Tommy went back to Texas a while back. Got some stuff from his old place and he found a photo of Sarah to bring back.”
“Joel must have been so happy.”
“He didn’t take it,” Maria shrugs. “Think it was too hard for him.”
You fall silent for a moment, your irritation with Joel waning. It’s hard to be angry at him after everything that happened. You sometimes forget that he had a life before, that he had a daughter he’ll never see again. Despite your animosity for how he treated you earlier, you’re not devoid of compassion.
You just wish you could understand him.
You’re still pondering this hours after Maria has left when there’s a knock at your door. It creaks open when you call out to come in and a familiar set of light eyes greet you. Luke grins at you expectantly.
“You still up for shooting?”
“Oh shit, I forgot,” you place your teacup in the sink and hurriedly pull on your scarf and jacket.
“We don’t have to,” Luke starts. “Jenny can’t make it, but I thought it’d be good for us to get the practice.”
You flush happily at the thought of being alone with Luke. You enjoy being with him, it’s easy and uncomplicated.
You follow him down the street heading to the outskirts of the city, both of you armed with guns borrowed from Jennifer.
"So Jennifer isn’t going to shoot today?" You ask curiously.
"Nah she said something about running behind in textiles. Dunno what exactly,” Luke shrugs, before smiling back at you. “You going to the town meeting Wednesday?”
Town meetings have been going on since Jackson City was founded. A place to bring up impactful town business, updates, celebrations and more. You've only been to one, finding it pretty dull for the most part. But as you become more a part of the community you find you want to know more of what goes on around you.
"Yeah I think I will."
The two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm that afternoon and you’re surprised at how easily the conversation flows even without Jenny there. Luke is funny and sweet and when you shoot your first can he’s right there to lift you into his arms and spin you around.
“That was amazing!”
“I can’t believe it!” you say, pink-cheeked and delighted.
You’re still on a high when you head back into town an hour or so later, chatting animatedly about how your shooting is actually improving thanks to Jennifer. You wish she had been there to see it today.
“Not just one can, but four,” Luke whistles in amazement as you both make your way to the center of town. “And I could only got one.”
“But it was really far away so it counts as two,” you insist with a giggle. Luke grins down at you, pulling you into a companionable side hug.
“You’re too kind.”
Your entire body lights up with the contact of Luke's arm around you. You’re about to say something more when a gruff voice sounds out from behind you.
“You sign those guns out?”
You and Luke spin to face the speaker.
Joel.
He’s standing there, leather coat done up looking intimidating. His dark eyes are going to where Luke holds you around the shoulder.
Instinctively you take a half step away from Luke, feeling strangely wrong-footed at having his arm around you, as if you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t.
Luke is busy looking at Joel in confusion. “Huh?”
“The guns you’re carryin’,” Joel says sharply, tongue lodged in the corner of his mouth as he appraises the both of you, taking a step closer. “They gotta be signed out if you’re practicin’. Need to keep track of ‘em for safety.”
Everyone who comes to Jackson City knows this, it’s taught during your welcome. Public weapons used for patrols need to be signed out from the armory, the ammo is doled out in specific numerations to keep the city stocked and prepared.
“They’re Jenny’s,” Luke explains patiently. “From her own collection. She lends them to us for practice.”
“Ammo too?”
“Yep.”
Joel makes a grunting noise in Luke’s direction, but his eyes don’t leave your face. You feel your cheeks prickling with embarrassment at being talked down to. And for what reason? Why is Joel being such an asshole this week?
“Is that all, Joel?” you challenge, feeling your hackles rising.
Joel frowns at you, jaw ticking and then without a word he strides past you and Luke, ducking into one of the shops that line the main street. You watch him leave, stiff-shouldered and long-legged and you shake your head.
“Man that guy is such an asshole,” Luke murmurs to you as the two of you continue your walk towards the other shops. “What’s his problem?”
“Honestly, I have no idea.”
///
Midweek one early morning you decide to pay a visit to Chestnut with a contraband carrot. You’ve been worrying about him since you returned from that overnight patrol shift, but your visit shows he’s no worse for wear. He clops over to you and cheerfully takes the carrot as you pet him.
There's something comforting about the scent of hay in the paddock, of Chestnut's glossy eyes and the strength of his ribs under your palm. Something that grounds you when you're here alone, listening to the strangely relaxing sound of him munching on his carrot. You've broken it in half, concerned that you might upset his diet.
He deserves it after all he went through last week.
You feel eyes on you and you glance over your shoulder to see Midnight circling around his paddock. Chestnut continues to snack away on his carrot piece, not even acknowledging when you drift over to Midnight.
"Hi, boy."
You take the other half of the carrot and move closer to where Midnight stares balefully out at you from the corner of his paddock. He watches you with widened eyes, making a huffing noise as you near, hand outstretched with the carrot half resting in the center of your palm.
Midnight's known you for months, but he still treats you like a stranger to be wary of. For a moment you wonder what his story is.
"Here you go," you coo, balancing on the fencing separating the two horses. "You deserve a treat too."
The glossy black head swings slowly, the scent catching him and it's not long before he begins inching towards you.
With a soft smile on your lips you hold your palm flat and feel the velvet brush of his mouth as he takes the carrot piece. You feel victorious by this minute surrender and smile toothily at the creature. You think about stroking his mane but decide you'd best not push your luck.
You turn when you hear your name being called and you're delighted to see its Ellie. She comes jogging towards you, looking as if she's getting ready to go to school.
"Hey, I haven't seen you in the dining hall lately," you greet as she comes your way.
"Nah, wanted to hang out with Joel this week," she explains and you hold in the urge to make a sympathetic face. You know his disappearance must have rattled her.
She looks at Midnight relaxing in his paddock and stretches out her fingers in his direction. You watch in quiet amazement as the creature ambles over to her, allowing her to start petting his twitching side. Ellie sure has a knack for taming the untamable.
"You like horses?" you ask Ellie, watching as the girl pets Chestnut’s ears.
“Yeah, I can ride too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, sorta. Winston this soldier back in the zone gave me lessons.” She glances up at you. “How do you know how to ride?”
“When I was really little my parents got me riding lessons. I loved it, kept going with it. Did some competitions. I was still riding up until Outbreak Day.”
“Wow. That’s awesome.” Ellie gnaws at her chapped lower lip, scratching absently at her covered arm. She looks like she’s trying to summon up the courage for something and then you both speak at once.
“Are you okay?-“
“-You wanna come over on Thursday night?”
You pause, her words hitting you belatedly.
“Where? To your place?”
“Yeah,” Ellie nods. She smiles at Chestnut, her eyes disappearing when she does. “For a special dinner.”
You and Joel Miller together in the same house again? After he’s been such a colossal asshole to you for no reason this week?
Not a chance.
“We could do dinner at my place,” you suggest airily. “I could make us something special.”
“Nah, I wanna do it at mine. On Thursday. I’ll make us all something really special.” She looks nervously at you. “Could you bring dessert?”
The request makes you huff a laugh. “Like what?”
“A cake?”
You grin as you watch her pet Chesnut, but you don’t reply. Thoughts of being in Joel’s home don’t really fill you with ease or cheer. She pauses when she sees your hesitation.
“Joel wanted me to ask you to come.”
This gives you pause and your brows rise to your hairline.
“Joel invited me to have dinner with you both?”
“Yeah,” Ellie nods resolutely. “You know Joel. He’s a grumpy asshole and he’s shit at communicating. But he told me to invite you, so can you make it?”
Is it possible that this is Joel extending an olive branch? Maybe he feels bad knowing how bizarrely he’s treated you this week. Maybe he’ll even explain why he’s suddenly been so frosty.
You consider this, eyes stuck on Chestnut’s mane as your fingers twirl in it. You can feel Ellie’s hopeful expression facing you and so you sigh quietly before flashing her a tentative smile.
“Chocolate cake okay?”
///
Town meetings take place inside the old church at the edge of town. The chapel itself is filled with creaking pews and tall stained glass windows.
People use it on Sundays, those that still believe in something in this empty world. You don't attend; you stopped believing a long time ago. During town meetings though the religious iconography is removed and placed off to the side.
Down the steps is the large recreation space used for dances and parties and the like. You've never gone to any, finding the idea too intimating since you didn't know anyone. The space is mostly filled, as all town meetings are. It's recommended that one person from each family attend to keep appraised of what's happening in the community.
This evening you and Jennifer slip into the end of a pew near the back, the back of your knees braced against the chilled wood.
"Oh there's Luke," Jennifer whispers, hitting your shoulder with hers gently. "Must've come with the guys."
You follow her eye line to see Luke sitting with some of the guys you recognize from breakfasts with Jennifer. He's laughing with them, chatting casually. He looks handsome tonight, his hair brushed back and his muscled arms crossed over his chest. You can't help but notice the way his mouth curves, looking so inviting.
You surprise yourself with how attracted you are to him this evening. You can't explain it, but you wish his hands were on you. Wish he was taking you to bed.
You worry that Joel's actions the other night have opened something in you, something that craves a man between your legs, a tongue tracing the buds of your nipples, fingers tracing shapes into your flesh.
You squirm slightly in your seat before focusing your attention elsewhere when a flash of red hair catches your eyes and you stand, making your way across the aisle.
“Hi Arthur," you greet with a smile. He's sitting with a tall woman with very red hair and is covered in tattoos. Delicate black lined things that wrap around her one arm and across her neck. She's like walking artwork that you can't stop staring at.
"Oh it’s you!” Arthur beams up at you from where he sits. “This is my wife Penny I was telling you about."
The woman turns her bulging eyes at you, yellowed at the corners. She smiles and gives you a crooked smile.
"Pleased to meet you," she says with a sharp drawl. "My husband says you’re to thank for the soap?”
“No no,” you laugh. “I just showed him where to find it.”
“And she didn’t bludgeon me even when she had the chance,” Arthur adds. The three of you chuckle together and you can’t help but watch the images on Penny’s lean neck jump when she laughs.
"Those tattoos are beautiful," you tell her, momentarily hypnotized.
"Arthur did them for me back in the QZ," Penny says with a shy grin. "Stick and poke if you can believe it. Self taught."
"Really? That's really impressive, Arthur."
Arthur ducks his head, looking momentarily shy. He pushes his glasses up his long nose bashfully.
"He makes everything he touches pretty," Penny says proudly. "S'the thing I love most about him."
"That's such a beautiful idea," you say without thinking. You bid them farewell before taking your seat next to Jennifer who’s deep in conversation with one of the women you’ve seen in the dining hall.
You scan the chapel and see that Maria sits in the front row, her baby strapped to her front. People talk to her but she looks strangely overwhelmed. Maria has never been like that, always been strong and confident. You try to catch her eye, to give her a reassuring smile but she doesn't turn in your direction.
Tommy pushes into the chapel by eight and ambles to the front of the room. He gives Maria a gentle kiss to the crown of her head before stepping behind the podium and waving at the gathered collective. When they see him the voices dim and he shoots a grateful look at the crowd.
"Hi y'all, thanks for comin' out on this cold night when I know you’d rather be at the Bison." He pauses as light chuckles fill the room. "We got a few things happenin' this month and I wanted y'all to be aware."
There's a shuffling behind you, a scrape of boot against wood grain. The pew creaks gently as a figure is seated down, his very presence setting your pulse skyrocketing.
Joel.
You'd know it just by the cadence of his walk; that light drag at the end of each step. The scent of leather from his jacket and almond from the soap he uses. The way the air seems to warm and grow heavy where he sits.
A part of you wants to turn your head, to confirm it's who you think. But the other wants nothing more than for Joel to stay away until the dinner with Ellie. After the way he's been treating you this week you don't want to be anywhere near him and his volatility without her as a buffer.
You feel the ends of your hair catch against the pew and you shift, running your hand absently through your crown to loosen it as you turn your focus back to Tommy at the front of the chapel.
"Well to start us off, we got some new blood here tonight and I wanna introduce 'em," Tommy says giving a small smile to the left side of the room. "This is Arthur and Penny. They come from Virginia. They're gonna be helping out in the school and with sanitation. Welcome to Jackson city."
Arthur and Penny stand up in their pew. The two of them give shy waves as the group claps, some calling out well wishes of welcome as Arthur goes pink in the cheeks.
"They're the sweetest couple," you comment.
"I love her tattoos," Jennifer replies as she claps. "So beautiful."
The couple sits and the clapping ebbs. Tommy looks down at his piece of paper of notes hurriedly scrawled.
"Now I'm gonna turn things over to Jacob Linden," he says before stepping down from the podium and taking his place next to Maria. You watch as his arm goes around her, holding her to him.
Jacob Linden is a sweet man of about sixty with narrow grey eyes and pale blonde hair. He always wears blue jeans and a sweater, even in the heat of the summer.
His partner passed years before he got to Jackson City and he wears a small locket with his photograph in it to remember him. He touches it now, a little nervously as he steps up to the podium.
"One of the ideas I've been kicking around is having a bi-weekly music night," the man says almost shyly as he looks around at all the faces. "A time for the town to come gather and listen to people play. Maybe in the dining hall after meals?"
There's murmurs of interest around the room. You and Jennifer exchange smiles at the idea, knowing very well that you'll attend. Jennifer is always going on about how there's nothing to do in the evenings in town except drink.
"I'm wondering if there are any musicians who'd like to join in?" Jacob asks tentatively. "We'll take turns deciding what tunes to play and you'll have all the coffee and tea you can drink."
You're surprised when amongst a few others, Luke shoots his hand up. Jennifer must be taken aback as well because she leans over to you, her voice warm in your ear.
"I didn't know he played."
"Me neither."
"Shhhh."
You both flinch at the volume of Joel's shushing. Several nearby people glance over their shoulders in your direction and you feel your cheeks pink. Jennifer shoots you an admonished look and you hold in your eye roll to the best of your abilities before turning your attention back to Tommy at the front of the church.
"Now, next up, I'm sure you've heard the rumors of Raiders up on the patrol routes."
Gentle whispers move around the room like hissing campfires being extinguished.
"So I need y'all to be even more vigilant than usual," Tommy explains. "That means you see anything and I mean anything strange, you come and tell me or Maria, Hank or Joel. And you can spread that around."
You hear him shift on the bench behind you. It's like your ears are so attuned to him that even as Tommy goes over the safety procedures all you can focus on is the shift of Joel's weight in the pew, the scrape of his boots on the ground, the rough way he clears his throat.
You don't know why but you're pissed off. Maybe you're anxious about the raiders, nervous about patrols tomorrow, whatever it is, you feel like a bow pulled extremely taut and Joel’s presence plucks irritatingly at the string.
"Do you think Luke wants to grab a drink after this?" Jennifer breaks into your thoughts, head tilted towards your shoulder. “I wanna ask him about his playing.”
“Me too, I was-”
Before you can say anything more you hear Joel give that same annoying noise and it feels like it's aimed directly into the back of your head.
"Shhhh."
For some reason this is your limit. The grating sound has you twisting around in your seat and fixing him with a glare. He sits with his face arranged in a look of casual indifference; you only know that he's paying attention to you by the steady gaze of his dark eyes.
"If you can't hear, sit closer next time," you hiss. "Not our fault you're half deaf."
You don't miss the sharp intake of breath from Jennifer or the narrowing of Joel’s gaze on your face.
Before he can say anything back to you, you slide from the pew towards the back of the church. You need a minute to calm down because irritation is boiling your blood. You know you’re going to say something rude if you stick around.
You give polite smiles at the few people you pass on your way out, your feet taking you to where it's quiet in the alcove. You think this is where they must have prepared communion or something similar, but now it just houses extra chairs and tables. The window is barely seen over the dented wood tables with their rusty metal legs.
You close the door after you, trying to quell the furious beating of your heart.
What the fuck is his problem? Is he so regretful of what happened that night that he’s doubling down on being a prick? And why the fuck is he having you over for dinner if he obviously despises everything you do?
There's a scrape of feet behind you and the air attains that same heavy, warm feeling. You turn, not surprised to see a furious looking Joel closing the door behind him. His lips are twisted into a thin curve of displeasure.
Fuck this.
You go to walk by him when he jerks out an arm, slapping his palm against the wall in front of you and effectively cutting you off from your exit. He stares you down as he cranes his neck towards you, forcing you to keep his gaze.
"Where do you get off talkin' to me like that?" Joel says between gritted teeth. He looms over you, everything about him saying submit. And normally this would work, normally you would cower but tonight you're at your limit.
"I'll talk to you any damn way I want," you say, cheeks a blotchy red.
“You sure fuckin’ won’t.”
“I sure fucking will,” you snap back, keeping your voice low enough not to carry into the chapel.
Joel gets up in your face, his nose practically touching yours.
"If you wanna run your goddam mouth, I'm gonna fill it."
It flies out of Joel’s mouth before he's had time to realize what he's said. He regrets it the minute it hits the air. It's there in the telltale opening of his lids just a fraction too wide, is in the pink crawling up his neck.
But you’re completely over it, over Joel, over the entire situation. He makes you cum how many times? Let’s you open up to him? And now he’s acting as if you’ve done him a cruelty?
Fuck him.
"With what, Joel? Your cock?”
Joel’s eyes fly open wide.
“I don't want anything to do with you or your cock ever again," you bite off. "You're selfish and arrogant-"
"Enough."
Joel’s jaw is ticking something worrisome, his hands in loose fists at his sides. But he doesn’t intimidate you anymore. He’s just a man like all the rest of them.
"What?” You sneer broadly. “Worried you can only keep it up if the woman’s on her knees doing all the work or half asleep, Joel?”
"Shut the fuck up."
You've never spoken to anyone like this in your entire life, but letting Joel have it right here in this moment feels good.
No, it feels better than good, it feels amazing.
Years of repressed anger and frustration are bubbling to surface and you feel heady, almost powerful from it. It feels better than sex or lust or forgiveness. It flows freely from you like a song, brutally cutting notes that slice into Joel and he winces.
"It's the truth," you laugh cruelly. "I mean when's the last time you fucked properly without having t-"
You break off as Joel's hands slap on either side of the striped wallpaper beside your arms, coming to box you in against the wall. His face is so thunderous that any laughter in your expression withers away like fruit on a vine.
There’s the sound of muffled laughter outside of the room in the chapel. Tommy is charming the audience, but all you can focus on is the man in front of you. Of his broad shoulders and muscled arms. Of his steely gaze and wide palms as one slides off the wall and comes to grip your hip.
And before you can properly think, Joel is crowding you against the wall, his pelvis pressing harshly into yours. You stare up at him, body trembling but you’re concerned because it’s not in fear.
Your nipples tighten, your pupils blow wide and all you can focus on is the heavy bulge that he presses between your thighs.
“You think I can’t make you come like a little slut for me right here and now?”
Joel is breathing heavily through his nose, his gaze on your mouth before flicking to meet your eyes. He continues to pin you there, mouth slightly ajar as he begins to unbutton your jeans, his dark eyes never leaving yours.
His fingers rest on the zipper, pausing only to watch your expression. When moments pass you realize he's waiting for you to tell him to stop, trying to call your bluff. But instead you tilt your head back in silent challenge.
You'd expected fury in the face of your combative non-verbal reply but are met with something altogether different from Joel.
Lust.
You see only a flicker of it in Joel's gaze, the darkening of his eyes before his face lowers to yours. His fingers lower the zipper of your jeans and now your bravado leaves you as you tilt away from him, your eyes fluttering. You feel his warm breath on the side of your face, slow and heavy. He waits there, fingers stilled on the zipper’s tongue.
You don’t move, your cheeks flaming as you realize what’s about to happen. You don’t know how to act or what to do.
“Why you actin' all shy now?" Joel mocks against your earlobe. "You think I didn't hear you in the bathroom playin' with yourself all those times on patrol? Think I don’t know how bad you wanna come right now?"
Your face feels so hot you feel it would sizzle if a droplet of water landed on it. Joel has known all this time? Every time you thought you were had privacy he's known? Has likely heard the whimpering cries you give out when you climax. For all you knew he could have been standing outside the door listening. Why does that thought make your stomach swoop?
"I don't-" you start but the words are sticky on your tongue.
But now the zipper is lowered and his fingers move swiftly down the front of your panties, hitting the slick of your cunt almost immediately and curling. You give a huff of surprise, finding your thighs widening without thought to take more of him. He slides his fingers to the knuckle, groaning when he sees it’s making your eyelids flutter.
"Maybe I don't have to try that hard after all," Joel croons. "Looks like you've been waiting for me."
“Have not,” you deny weakly, jaw clenched and glare fixed on your face.
“Then I should stop,” Joel mocks as his fingers slowly begin to pump in and out of your squelching cunt. “Right?”
You say nothing, finding it near impossible not to touch him. All you can do is cling to his shoulders, fingertips leaving half-moon crescents in his skin through the fabric. Your face is buried in his neck, trying to stifle your moans.
You feel Joel’s smug smile against your temple as his thick finger curl within your velvet slot, his thumb rubbing your clit in time with his pumps. He groans softly when you arch back, hand at his collar for purchase.
“Fuck, yeah, like that,” Joel chants, his warm breath buffeting your face.
He tilts his head, tongue going to the side of his mouth in thought. You wonder what he sees when he stares down at you, pink cheeks and glassy eyes? The sheer desperation in your glazed expression? You feel your release being coaxed forth, sweet and syrupy but something holds you back.
You feel that ripple of pleasure begin but you nervously tense everywhere and Joel’s face flies towards yours.
"I know what you feel like when you're close," Joel rasps, his full lips crushed against your ear, breath hot. "Don't fight it."
You feel your pulse ticking wildly in your neck and you wonder if Joel can sense it. But you need something from him, something that you didn’t realize. You turn your gaze to his, imploring.
"Tell me to come," you whisper, hips rutting against his hand. "Please Joel, tell m-me-"
You break off with a sharp gasp and his wide hand immediately goes to cover your mouth, muffling the sounds from escaping into the chapel while the other works between your legs in that same steady way.
"You're gonna come for me," Joel rasps against your ear. "Right here, with the whole town on the other side of this wall."
Your eyes roll back in your head at the command, pleasure flooding you everywhere. Joel's fingers are sliding in and out of you, curling to hit that sweet hidden spot your own fingers just can't reach, thumb rubbing your clit.
"You're gonna come on my fingers right here," he continues, breath hot in your ear when he sees your reaction. "Cuz I said so."
You can't speak since his hand is still sealed over your mouth but you can nod shallowly, hips rolling as you begin to climb that pleasured peak that has your body tensing. He feels it, his dark eyes moving from your face to where his fingers enter you over and over, curling and coaxing.
Your hands fist in his flannel when you feel that white stripe of pleasure overtake you. And despite how inappropriate this is you feel yourself falling off the edge.
"Go on then," Joel groans huskily. "Be a good girl and do it."
At those words all that tension that's been building in your lower belly suddenly releases, sending you jerking against Joel, gasping against his palm.
"Mhm," Joel murmurs approvingly. His praise sets you off, your next orgasm overtaking the first, bleeding into one another and your legs tremble. He holds you in place with his hips, his fingers moving slickly between your thighs.
Joel's broad hand moves from your mouth to cradle the back of your head, forcing your mouth press against the skin of his neck, muffling your cries. You continue to twitch, your whimpers seeping into his skin like ink on paper.
"Uh huh, just like that," Joel murmurs, his fingers keeping their steady pace as your pelvis ruts against his hand faster and faster. "Just like that.”
Just like that. Just like that.
Nothing else exists except for his voice and your pleasure. Not the townspeople, not the warning of Raiders that set you off, not the fear of the unknown. Just Joel's warm, steady voice telling you to come.
“I know you can gimme another one.”
Just like that night of the snow in, he consumes you leaving you whimpering his name into his neck, fingers gripping his flannel for dear life as he coaxes your next orgasm from you.
"Give it to me," he demands, groaning as you arch into him. "S’mine."
Your entire body tenses at that husky order and your release comes over you in waves. Your eyes roll back, and you cry out, your mouth sealed against Joel’s taut neck. You can hear him far away, murmuring that’s right and good fuckin’ girl.
You feel your pussy pulse around his fingers, milking them. Arousal drips down his wrist, his fingers not ceasing their steady continuous rhythm until you give one final shake, exhaling heavily against his palm.
Finally you go limp and his fingers slow and finally slide from between your legs. You realize that you're still fisting his flannel, your mouth still open against his warm neck. You raise your head, eyes heavy and glazed. You do it just in time to see Joel slide the fingers coated in your glossy arousal between his lips and suck, his eyes fluttering closed.
Your knees buckle.
He catches you, a flash of amusement in his honeyed voice.
"Steady," he mutters against your cheek. "Steady."
You stare up at him, your breathing still deep and uneven as he holds you against him. You tilt your head back slightly so you can better view him. Joel looks completely fucked out, cheeks flushed, his dark curls falling into his eyes that sweep your face, lingering on your parted lips. Like magnets you feel as he drifts towards you, his mouth so close to yours you can feel the warmth of his breath on your tongue.
Suddenly the sound of creaking pews, chatter and footsteps sound out.
The meeting is over.
Joel's hands immediately fly from your body at the sound and he steps back, straightening to his full height. The darkness is back in his eyes and that displeased countenance he wears like a mask firmly settles over his features.
“Don’t wanna keep you from gettin’ drinks with your boyfriend,” he rumbles darkly.
He strides away from you quickly, his boots scuffing along the floorboards until he's outside the room, the door closing behind him with a snick. You assume he’s rejoined the rest of the group as they exit to avoid suspicion, but you can’t do the same because your legs feel like rubber.
You stay leaning against the wall, face flushed and pulse ticking. Your breathing is shaky as you look around the room, the same and yet changed.
What the fuck just happened?
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#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller smut#smut#fanfiction#fanfic#pedro pascal#dad joel miller#dark!joel x reader#dark!joel miller#dark!joel#so much to lose#slow burn
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OMG I HAVE THIS REQUEST FOR RAFE AND I WOULD LOVE TO READ IT AHHH SO ITS BASED OFF THIS https://www.instagram.com/reel/C6FWFacvwzk/?igsh=MTBhNGhjbzA2M2w1Mg== and like maybe you can do it like there coming home from the beach cause it started raining like HEAVY and yk that happens in the video and Rafe grabs her and like protects right when they fall making sure your ok and everything THANKSSSS ID LOVE TO READ ITTT 💗💗🫶🏼🫶🏼
Until My Dying Breath
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Motorcycle Accident
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.4K
Masterlist
Although it is October and the weather is a little cold, Y/N still loves going to the beach. The cool breezes mean that it is rarely populated, making it the perfect place to have a picnic if the weather is good. The sand disperses with each of her steps and she comes to a stop once she finds the perfect spot for their picnic. She drops the cooler backpack onto the blanket Rafe set down and sheds the special motorcycle jacket he ordered for her to keep her safe while they ride. It matches the one he bought himself. He places their helmets beside the bad, his mouth forming a line as he spots the gray clouds rolling in. She doesn’t seem to notice, which he hopes will continue. The weather network said it was likely to rain and he kept it a secret because he was optimistic the experts were incorrect. He knows how much she looks forward to their beach trips.
The universe seems to have a different idea. The drops first came sporadically. “It’s not that bad. If we keep the food in the cooler and only take out what we eat, we can still have our picnic,” he suggests, kneeling down to take out some food. The clouds seem to want to kick him in the ass because, at that moment, the rain begins its heavy fall. The couple gather their items and run to his bike. He can see her disappointment while they do so.
“Should we really be on the road while it’s raining this much?” she meekly asks. With his helmet already on his head, he looks up at the sky and calculates in his head the risks. If it were only him and this was before they started dating, Rafe absolutely would’ve still ridden; however, the addition of his precision cargo makes him remove the idea from his mind. “No, you’re right. That would be dangerous,” he concludes. His head swings from side to side in search of somewhere to lay low while they wait out the rain. He spots the awning of a closed coffee shop on the street. His fingers lace with hers and he drags her under it with him. “What should we do while we wait?” she questions. He grins at her from under his helmet, quickly removing it to bring his mouth near hers. “I can think of a few things.”
———
As soon as the rain dwindled, the pair hopped on his bike and began to make their way home. Yet, it seems Mother Nature isn’t done with her storm because, during their ride, the heavy rain starts again. Rafe is about to pull to the side of the road when the tires lose traction, causing the vehicle to slip to its side. At that moment, the first time Rafe met Y/N’s parents flashes before his eyes.
———
“I see you have a motorcycle,” Mr. Y/L/N noticed while they both stood at the open front door. They were waiting for Mrs. Y/L/N and Y/N to return from upstairs; Y/N was getting something from her mother. Rafe nodded, “Yes, Sir.” He wasn’t normally polite to adults, but he loved Y/N and he would do anything to make her parents like him. Mr. Y/L/N rubbed his chin with a small bob of his head. “And I’m guessing since you brought Y/N/N here that she tends to ride with you.”
“Yes, she does, Sir.”
“Those things are pretty dangerous. If something happens, will you protect my daughter?”
“Until my dying breath, Sir.”
———
Now, brought back to reality, Rafe searches for Y/N through the rain. Her skidding across the road matches his momentum and the only thing he can think of is how to protect her. She is just out of reach, so he extends his hand out, wraps it around her upper arm and pulls her into his chest. The slippery road eases this process. Her back is flushed against his front and he wedges his head under her helmet so it doesn’t scrap against the road. He tries his best to lessen her contact points against the floor, not stopping the movement of their fall. In his mind, he’d rather keep going with him protecting her body than possibly hurting her by halting. In an instant, the sound of leather and helmet grinding against the cement ends and is replaced by the patter of the water. He pants and moans. The lack of adrenaline makes him aware of the growing ache on his left side. He ignores it and immediately pulls his attention to Y/N.
“I’m okay. Are you okay? Don’t move, Sunshine. Okay, wait until the ambulance gets here. Don’t move.”
He is thankful they were thrown onto the side of the road, so they aren’t at risk of cars running them over. He goes against his own advice and reaches into his pocket for his phone. He gives his information to dispatch, leaving his phone on the side. He feels her trying to look back towards him and doesn’t let her. “Are you hurt, Rafe? I want to see you,” she worries. The worry in his voice kills him, except he knows it is important to stay still with their helmets on until medical professionals can assess their condition. He does the only thing he can think of to provide her more comfort. He pulls her as close to him as humanly possible. “I’m not hurt. It’s okay. Just stay still and keep your helmet on. Let the paramedics check us for brain or spinal injuries first. They’re on their way, Sunshine. I promise,” he reassures. He tries to hide his pain from his voice, especially when he hears her sniffles through her helmet. “I’m scared, Rafe. I’m scared,” she cries, her breath catching on her words.
A hand claws at his heart and tears it to shreds. He shouldn’t do it, but her doesn’t care. He rests his helmet on hers. “I know, Sunshine. I’m here. Everything is going to be okay. It’s going to be okay,” he mumbles to her. She can barely hear him through the rain and still, she can understand him.
Minutes later, they can both hear the approaching sirens. Flashes of blue and red pierce through the gray scenery. “EMS, we are here to help,” the approaching figure informs. The female kneels behind Rafe and he can feel her trying to pry him away from Y/N to take a look at him. “No. No. Look at her first. Check her first,” he insists. The female shakes her head, “My colleague is just behind me and she is going to check on her. I promise. But right now, you seem to be the one, who took the brunt of the accident.” This has Y/N whipping around to face him. “Is he hurt? How serious is it?” she anguishes. The EMS person is by her side already and turns her back onto her side. “I’m sorry, Mrs. But I need you to stay still while I check on you. I promise that my colleague is the best at her job and she will do everything in her power to help him out,” the blonde consoles.
The blonde and brunette assess the couple and once they are satisfied that they aren’t in critical condition, they get them on gurneys to be further evaluated at the hospital. Before they are loaded into the vehicle, Rafe stops the paramedic. “I need to see. Please, just to make sure she is okay. She was so scared,” he pleads. The paramedic nods and wheels him over to her. Her eyes fall on him and she spies the manner in which his left side is bandaged. His clothes on that side are cut open to reveal the material wrapped around his limbs that is tinted pink. Panic sparkles in her eyes. “You’re hurt. Why didn’t you tell me?” He reaches for her and places his hand into hers. “Because it would’ve worried you. I’m alive though and the paramedics are sure it isn’t serious. What did they say about you? Is everything good? Do you want me to ride with you to the hospital?” Y/N has to giggle at the way he always shows concern for her, even when he is the one with cuts all over his left side. “I’m okay. They are taking me to the hospital to double-check. But as of right now, I’m not presenting any serious symptoms,” she informs him and thinks over the events that transpired. “You protected me from most of the impact. Why?” He looks at her in shock, “Because, Sunshine, I would give my last breath if I knew you would be safe. That’s how much I love you.”
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#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#outer banks x reader
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You know what would be HILARIOUS?
For everyone NOT involved in the situation?
If the Uzumaki, mad lads that they were, seal master's who routinely moon the Shinigami for funsies that they are, got SUUUUUPER drunk? And were like?
"F-! *hic!* FUCK your fancy ass Summons contract Himiko! I got one TOO, you know. A..An' it's TOTALLY better then yours! It's got BLACKJACK! And hookers!" *falls on their face unconscious*
Needless to say? Not their proudest moment. Actually, their kinda deeply embarrassed. But like FUCK ARE THE BACKING DOWN! Their mouths wrote a check their ass can't currently cash... so the only REASONABLE solution? Apologize and tell the truth? Psh! NO.
Break Reality Until It's TRUE.
THEN they weren't technically lying!
They're a GENIUS~☆! :D
And yes, yes this IS normal behavior for them. It's both cultural AND genetic. There was a REASON people were terrified of those insane mother fuckers.
Because? They just? MADE UP a A Summons Contract. With Who? Dunno! We're gonna find out! But it looks right Seals wise! *signs name before anyone with sense can stop them, does the signs, draws blood aaaand?*
POOF!
Nani THE FUCK!? Says local dead Japanese 16th century fisherman who was flying by to visit the Lair of his buddy the 14th century monk. Behold! A FUCKING ZONE GHOST! He is unsummoned before he can react.
The Uzumaki have A Ghost Contract™.
.........th....they may have fucked up.
YOU THINK?
Roars basicly the ENTIRE Elders council. Who FUCKING FELT THAT. Because EVERYONE Felt that. They're SENSOR. That was a HOLE in REALITY that somehow GLOWED like a BEACON of both absolute Nothingness and Death! You TRAUMATIZED THE KIDS, YOU ASSHOLE!
Still....they ARE ninja. And Curious mother fuckers to the last.
So basically EVERYONE and their dog signs it. They somehow get WEIRDER. Bigger Chakra reserves. Obsessive tendencies. Meh, you win some, you lose some.
But? Then they fuckin DIE. (And their WHOLE ASS VILLAGE SHOWS UP IN THE ZONE. OH GOD, WHAT-!?)
And some grave robbing fuck tries to use the Contract. SUPRISE MOTHERFUCKER!
Ghost Uzumaki!
Your literal worst nightmare!
They DO NOT try using it again. It gets sealed DEEP. Until the Hokage gets wind of it. And, of course, Danzo. The Hokage sends Hound. And Team Kakashi on a completely unrelated but nearby "help a farmer" mission. Danzo sends assassins. Because he's fucking awful.
Kakashi gets the scroll.
Yep. Creepy rambling and shit handwriting, def Uzumaki. Time to go.
He gets attacked on the way back to camp. GDI Root. Well, its you or me. Sucks for you, I guess. They fight. They get a lucky shot. He bleeds on the scroll, doesn't notice. But SURELY... SURELY it isn't CROWDED enough with names that the Uzumaki just added a "and anyone who bleeds on THIS part at the bottom _______ plus does the handsigns" towards the end.... RIGHT??
RIGHT?! Look him in the EYES Uzumaki Clan, RIGHT??!
They would prefer not to answer that. The Vibez here are getting REALLY aggressive, you know? >.> It made sense at THE TIME...
So... he goes to summon his Dogs.
And he SURE DOES GET UM.... plus One(1!!!).
Who the FUCK is this glowing green dog? A puppy? Kakashi seeing the dimwitted looking little thing about to get STABBED tries to rescue it. It takes one look look at him (worried for it), the other dogs (growling at his enemies, fighting) and... turns around, shifting as it does, to HUNDREDS of times it's previous size.
Like an Akimichi transformation.
A sudden, hulking, green WOLF with red glowing eyes and killing intent that would Rival a demon's. The howl is unearthly. It joins the fray like a meat thresher.
Then pops back to a floating, tongue lolling, dimwitted pup the second everything is done.
G...God boy?
Far be it for KAKASHI to fear a dog, no MATTER how dangerous. So he carries it back to camp. Where it seems to instant fall in LOVE with Naruto. They become the BEST of friends.
There's frolicking.
Looking down at the pocket with the scroll he reclaimed? Yeah. Yeah that tracks. According to Pakkun, the pup has a "weird, echo-y" accent and is incredibly scatter brained. Training to be a gaurd dog? WAS Training. IS currently... what.
Okay. IS currently the gaurd dog/pet of an Emperor. Because THATS not alarming. Did the Royal family all... wait... he examines the pup again. Transparent. Was it KILLING intent he felt... or a Deathy pressure? Didn't the Uzumaki have Forbidden soul and death seals? It would stand to REASON...
Oh god damn it.
Pakkun. Pakkun please tell me that pup is ALIVE.
(He can not.) (Hilariously? Dispite being TERRIFIED of Ghosts? Naruto is TOTALLY COOL with Zone Ghosts? Don't be MEAN, Sensei! They're just PEOPLE! It's not THEIR fault They're dead! Now GHOSTS? Spooky and EVIL! Totally different.)
@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @legitimatesatanspawn @mayfay
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me and my cousin spent 10 hours straight talking abt the Todoroki siblings the other day and these drawings are all the result of that🙏 had to draw them being normal siblings!!! so imagine this is an au where Rei and Endeavor get a divorce right after Shoto is born and Toya gets mood stabilizers and therapy
Toya is still so competitive and gets so mad when he doesnt win at everything! especially with superiority complex he has😭when playing games the other three know that if he isnt winning hes going to flip the board and accuse them of cheating! they know its going to happen!
Toya lives to make his siblings lives harder! but in this au instead of it being. murder. its just him taking any opportunity to embarrass his siblings! they go into stores and he SO LOUDLY will say "oh my god Fuyumi are you stealing😨" HIS SIBLINGS HATE IT!!! Fuyumi is the main person he embarrasses though because she reacts the most!
also these two playing hide and seek^_^ Shoto would hide with Natsuo and Natsuo would get so mad and tell him to find his own spot! and they would bicker and both get caught first.
other hcs is that Shotos siblings would say they are gonna play hide and seek with him and he would go hide and the rest just. wouldnt😭he would be hiding for like 45 minutes and they would never come to find him! and he would get so upset😭😭
when Toya starts driving his siblings would all make him so stressed when he would be driving! pointing out every cop they see, scream if he accidentally goes through a red light, freak out wayyy too much if he accidentally goes up on a curb. all that. HE HATES IT!!! once he got more comfortable driving he started driving poorly intentionally, just to freak out his siblings. like swerving the car randomly, harshly breaking, letting go of the wheel for multiple seconds😭just to startle them.
if any of the kids did Christmas concerts the other three would always cheer ABSURDLY loud just to embarrass them! Shoto wouldnt get embarrassed, he would fully stop singing and wave at his family in the crowd. Natsuo would get extremely embarrassed and would pretend he doesnt notice them, he would yell at them afterwards. Fuyumi would get embarrassed and try to keep her composure but would be laughing and lose focus ! Toya would get embarrassed like Natsuo, trying to stay focused on what hes doing so he doesnt mess up. he would be very very annoyed in the moment but would forget about it afterwards i think.
when any of his younger siblings have good Toya will always ask for a bite and take the most absurdly huge bite ever😨even if his siblings say no! he asks as just a formality i guess. even if he has the same food or even worse, if its a food he hates😭he will still take a bite just to be mean! but if any of his siblings ask for a bite of his food he will either refuse or, if its in some kind of a wrapper, he will only unwrap the smallest bit so they can only take the smallest bite ever. and even then he will say they took too much!
i have a million other ideas and thoughts but i dont want this post to be too long‼️
#bnha#bnha fanart#boku no hero academia#mha#mha fanart#my hero academia#todoroki#bnha todoroki#shoto todoroki#natsuo todoroki#fuyumi todoroki#toya todoroki#dabi todoroki#todoroki shouto#touya todoroki#shouto todoroki#bnha shoto todoroki#bnha todoroki fanart#bnha dabi#dabi fanart#todoroki fanart
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"I can't lose you" with channie? 🥺 - 💎
Content warning; open ended, angst
Link to the list if you'd like to send in a quote for a blurb!
"I... I don't think I can keep doing this."
Those were the words that threatened to shatter his reality as he watched you pick at the pillow on your lap.
"What...?"
"This, us, it's... It's becoming too much for me to handle and I-"
"You want to leave?"
You weren't deaf to the silent 'me' that hung on to the end of his sentence, your head snapping up to finally meet his gaze ever since you'd asked if he could talk. "I don't want to, Chris - leaving you is the last thing I could think of-"
"So what are you trying to say?" When you flinched at his voice, he could've sworn he felt his heart crack; he'd never interrupted you like this, anyone like this, but his world was collapsing right before his eyes and he was panicking. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I just thought we were doing alright, you know? I thought that we..."
He thought that you'd beat the odds. He thought that in his busy, unpredictable lifestyle that he would be able to find someone to love, and have that same person love him in return. He thought that you'd be the one to bring some form of normalcy to his irregular world.
"We were doing alright!" The past tense felt bitter on your tongue, sour and spoiled that had your stomach churning, "I... I thought we were doing alright, too, I thought I was stronger than this but I'm not. I can't get past the thought that I'll never get used to the distance, to the schedules and meetings and times where I won't be able to see you for months - to the feeling that our time together is always ticking down to when you'll be leaving again and I'll just be here, alone. I-I know you're doing everything you can and I love you for that, but... I can't. I can't let you continue to bend backwards for me while I'm sitting here like some ungrateful child who always wants more, who knows I won't be able to get it because I can't handle the compromise."
You mentally curse the hot tear that runs down the apple of your cheek, wiping it away with the back of your hand, though more are quick to follow as your vision blurs.
There are so many things he could say, so many points he could make to refute every word that came from your mouth and make you see that you're more than what you think you are, but the only thing that makes its way through is;
"I can't lose you."
It's selfish, it's irrational, and he finds himself hating the fact that that's all he could say - because it's all about him. All of this is because of him.
"I can't- I won't- I don't know what I'll do without you." He clenched his jaw, fighting against the wavering of his voice as he scooted closer to you, though the distance only seemed to grow more. "Baby, please."
"Y-You'll do exactly what you were doing before we were together, us without the relationship - us when we were friends."
"Us when I wished we were so much more?" Chris urged, helplessness evident in his broken voice, "Us when I was willing to give everything up just for one day with you? When I'm still willing to give everything up, just for you?"
"Us when the pain of watching you leave would hurt less than it does now." You gritted, watery eyes locked onto his own, "Us, when the idea of you meeting someone who could offer you more than I can without the sacrifices didn't keep me up at night wondering if I'm even worth the trouble."
He opened his mouth, his retort hot on his tongue, but stopped as he took in the sheer exhaustion on your features - the harsh reality punching him in the face and stomping on his heart.
This wasn't something that could be solved with declarations of love and promises of doing better - this wasn't something he could fix.
"I love you, Chris," you breathed softly, gently taking his hands into yours - your skin still wet with tears, "I loved the idea of you, the idea of us, but I'm not ready for it - not as I am now."
"I'll wait for you." His hands squeezed yours, trembling and aching to tug you into his arms where he wanted you, where you belonged. "It's only you, it'll only ever be you."
He knows you want to dismiss his claim, you want to tell him that he's being irrational, but you don't; instead, you squeeze his hands back with a smile that does little to hide the pain in your eyes.
"It'll only ever be you, too."
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for your ship and au post, bucktommy old guard au?
okay okay
Buck is Immortal, he died in Pennsylvania during the Revolutionary War and likes to joke all the time that he's older than the US
finding the others had been very hard for him, he had been the youngest immortal and had a whole ocean separating him from them
years of loneliness and watching your family die, plus hundreds of years of war and seeing humanity at its worst does weigh on Buck, but he does his best to ultimately see the good in everything, and he takes his immortality as a chance to learn, to help people, it's something he reminds the others
eventually, the years go on and he goes with the others to help, it leads him to meet a young pilot, freshly deployed at 22 years old after he obtained his military pilot license
Buck doesn't mean to be, but he's drawn to the kid, Tommy is young and tries to hide it, but Buck knows loneliness like an old friend and sees past it
Tommy helps get them out of a tough situation, and in the dark in a camp in a desert, he takes a chance and kisses Buck under the stars
Buck knows he shouldn't
but he does
it ends though, when one of the others gets "killed" and they need to leave, they were only there for a mission and Buck has to leave Tommy behind, he shouldn't get attached anyway
that doesn't mean he doesn't keep tabs on the kid
he learns that Tommy's been discharged, that he's in the States again and that he's becoming a firefighter
sometimes, he imagines going to LA, finding Tommy and telling him that it wasn't just a few nights for him, that he regrets leaving
most times Buck thinks about the centuries of living he has, of the baggage that comes with being immortal, that this could only end with him living on and Tommy would eventually die
fast forward and they have a mission, sex traffic ring out in LA and they need transport and Buck shouldn't, but he's in charge of transport and it's been 20 years
he asks Tommy anyway
the mission goes sideways and Tommy definitely holds Buck as he dies and then resurrects and suddenly Tommy knows who Buck really is
Tommy doesn't run
they catch up and Buck takes a break and he lets himself just slow down and be human, even if it's for a little while, because how can it be pretend when he's in love?
AND HERE IS WHERE OUR STORY SPLITS TO POSSIBLE ENDINGS
one ending is Tommy gets caught up in everything, and he knows Buck can heal, he knows the others can as well, but he can't stand by to watch their suffering and he goes in to help them/save them and it results in his death, Buck wearing his dog tags for the next how many centuries he lives, eventually the name wears off from how Buck rubs at the metal but he never forgets Tommy's name and the love they had
Tommy and Buck have their decades, Tommy gets older and Buck watches as he ages, he gets grey and people joke about Tommy being Buck's uncle - Tommy dies quietly in their home, peacefully in his sleep, the last thing he ever said to Buck was "I love you"
Buck loses his immortality and learns what it's like to age with aches and pains, but he has Tommy at his side and he's at peace with his death
Tommy ends up dying, his blood spilling out onto the street from a bullet that was meant for Buck - hours later he gasps back to life and Buck doesn't have to lose another loved one
send me a ship + an AU and I'll give you a summary on how I think the AU would look like
#bucktommy#anon I could kiss you this is like two of my fav things#evan buckley#tommy kinard#911 abc
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Red Bull’s True Colours?
I’m not sure how I feel about this. To read Red Bull’s defence of why Checo was made to drive back to the pits, it seems that a race win can be bought for 25,000 euros and a three place grid penalty.
Red Bull do everything in their power to give people a stick to hit Max with don’t they? Do they just not care about Checo’s career or safety? Or the safety of anyone one else on track?
With a fan base that wants to reduce Lando’s first win down to a lucky safety car. And yes every team does it to some extent. McLaren telling Oscar to behave in Miami as not to cause a safety car. Ferrari’s controlling of McLaren in Monaco. Aston and Haas specialising in having one car be a road block at the front so your team mate can catch up and pass people. Red Bull are not alone here but to be so blatantly chill about it when their actions could have ended another driver’s race. I think it’s time Red Bull fans avoid the topic of safety cars period!!!! (Yes I know Team LH44, it had to be said).
I know Will Buxton has not minced his words about this and honestly it hard to miss the point he was making. Breaking the rules to secure a win is cheating. But what is the other side of this? Take the win from Max when he (and maybe only him at Red Bull) did nothing wrong?
Should both McLaren and Mercedes drivers feel cheated out a potential win? Hell yes.
But as we saw yesterday with the Max fans coming for Lando, it won’t be the people who made this dangerous decision who will get slaughtered. Fans will go for Max and Checo!
I agree the penalty is too lenient. What stops another team thinking well if that all the punishment is . . . . .
So make the team suffer. Lose constructors points for that race. Exclusion from the next sprint race. A 150,000 Euro fine to come out of their cost cap. Make it so a team would have to be desperate to do something so stupid again. Red Bull are many things, I’ve never thought they were desperate.
At this point I feel for their drivers. Checo had a decent reputation before going to Red Bull. They are trying everything to screw that over. And poor Max, still gets labelled a “dirty driver”. No Max was an immature driver who become an over ambitious driver who settled into the World Champion we all knew he would become (whether you liked him or not). Sadly he drives for a team with the morals and ethics of pond weed who even when he drives brilliantly (as he did yesterday) the world and its dog can turn round and question did he deserve it.
Normally I’m the one promoting calm and don’t go after people, but maybe this time people do need to let Red Bull and the FiA and F1 know how they feel about this. Because how do we stop it happening again.
#canadian gp 2024#red bull racing#sergio perez#max verstappen#mclaren f1#lando norris#oscar piastri#mercedes f1#lewis hamilton#george russell
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More ranting but its the protags now
Danganronpa, despite its out of pocket comments and shitty development sometimes, is actually still great with presenting how characters deal with trauma. This is mostly gonna be about the 3 main protags but yk (p.s. I haven’t watched the gameplays in over a year or two, so correct me if I’m wrong😓)
Makoto, being a cheery guy, still came to forgive everyone for their misdeeds. He didn’t yell at Kyoko for getting mad at him, he kept Sakura’s secret, he still got along with everyone, and he didn’t hold a grudge despite being sent off to the execution. He never held a grudge (apart from Junko but that’s cause she’s a bitch!!). He obviously went through a lot, watching people he actually knew for 3 years die right in front of him while he thought he didn’t know anyone, as well as nearly dying from the execution. But even so, he still kept his optimistic self and continued encouraging everyone despite knowing what the cycle would be, never giving up. In the Dr3 anime, in the scene where he’s driven insane, you can actually see that a lot of his trauma is internalized. Meaning he still holds regret in his heart, but chose the healthy way out and continued to work on it, despite having to go through 2 different killing games. His trauma had a heavy impact on him, which was the reason why he could be driven to despair, but even so, he’s a strong character, which allowed him to keep his mindset and still fight for the best
Now onto Hajime. Hajime is a whole different story. We don’t know much about his backstory or family, apart from a few glimpses into his Reserve Course life. We can easily tell that he truly dreams of becoming talented because Ultimates were a big deal in the world, but the Reserve Course was deemed as being desperate for that (they were lmao). So dealing with obvious self-esteem issues and somewhat implied self-loathing, he sold his damn body to scientists to experiment on.
What you believe is entirely on you. You can believe that Hajime and Izuru are two seperate identities, sharing the same body and brain, as a split personality, or you can believe that Hajime and Izuru are one in the same, with his brain just getting a few modifications. And there is no humane way for him to be able to accommodate all of those talents without obvious body modification, so imagine that, some parts of him aren’t even his at that point. Anyways, Hajime deals with trauma a bit differently. He gets agitated and deals with it like any average person: panicked and desperate. Constantly seeing his friends die, it gave an impact on his brain where he had slowly, but unknowingly grown used to it, with still being obviously impacted, but each time less and less, though it’s really faint. By chapter 6, Hajime let those bottled up feelings out, since he never lets his guard down and is always tense, and is obviously upset and angry because he had no reason to be there, again his self-loathing. In the anime, we can see him getting better, accepting his past (via the symbolism of Chiaki fading out, though he still keeps her dear in his heart), and moving on by going back t his friends. So he most likely also ends up dealing with it healthily!
Shuichi? Oh fuck he’s a mess…
Shuichi obviously also struggles with a self-esteem problem, but it’s not severe. He generally doesn’t believe he’s worth his Ultimate, because he only solved one case the police couldn’t, and is quite shy or introverted on his own. Throughout the gameplay, he obviously builds up confidence, which could also play as tiredness and anger, because of continuously doing these class trials and losing people he tried to make a genuine connection with. Even so, he tries to stay strong, but again, he never truly built true confidence, which is why he’s so easily knocked down in chapter 5, where his feelings are exposed, revealing that he did in fact become/was already depressed. He gave up with everything, because knowing there was no point in killing, everyone’s deaths were a waste, and everything that happened was pointless, gives a pretty big impact. He even comes to a point of giving up on his own life. But with a bit of support from Maki and his friends, he gets back up on his feet again and continues on, making everyone’s deaths important because they never lost their value. Though in chapter 6, you can see his confidence waver again, but he still stands his ground, proving that he actually grew to accept everything, and built actual confidence, which I think is a nice touch to his character.
So truth be told, Danganronpa, despite still being shitty, is still good at character development when they actually put work into them. But of course, sometimes you just can’t get that
#danganronpa#danganronpa 1#super danganronpa 2#danganronpa v3#dr1#sdr2#drv3#hajime hinata#shuichi saihara#makoto naegi
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john doe game headcanons . . . ↷
A/N; THIS IS, FINALLY AND IM SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG, basically how your family or Doe would react at getting to know each other, thanks @hytorok for asking
Pairing; "John Doe" x GN!Reader
CW; i guess its fluff omg
john doe meeting your family.
To no one's surprise, the first interaction would be horrible, imagine introducing your boyfriend to your family and said boyfriend is a dirty ball of fur.
John Doe tries, he really does, he wants to be a part of your life forever and at first he may not understand what that means regarding your other family relationships, but one explanation later and he'll be trying to make himself look as good as possible. as normal as possible, not because he wants your parents to like him, he just doesn't want anyone to oppose his relationship.
He's definitely going to screw up at some point but hey, it's the thought that counts.
First, speaking of your parents, assuming that MC has a mother and father in contact, REGARDLESS OF WHAT THEY ARE OR HOW TOLERANT THEY APPEAR, they simply don't know how to react, even if Doe changes his appearance to a more "appropriate" one they can perceive that something is out of the ordinary so they would be quite cautious about what they have to say in front of you or Doe.
In case MC has siblings, surely they would do everything possible to humiliate you in front of Doe, but oh surprise, Doe likes weirdos so it won't work.
As time goes by and if they see you happy and healthy with Doe, the waters would surely calm down. AND EVERYTHING WOULD GO TO SHIT WHEN DOE HAS HIS "NORMAL" APPEARANCE AGAIN, whether it's the hairball or the 4-fingered thing.
Things would be incredibly difficult, if it went to extremes you would have to defend your partner from your own family (And convince Doe that this problem has a solution before he tries to kill someone).
He would need a lot of affirmation and encouragement during that time, it's not that he cares about anyone else's opinion, he's just terrified that you prefer your family over him.
"There's no way you guys actually have sex, is there?" your uncle asks.
Your other family members have many opinions on the matter, perhaps most of them not so acceptable and would want their children away from Doe, but they all keep their words to themselves when they see you happy.
Moving on from the initial prejudices you would finally be allowed to take Doe to family events, your aunts would tell him to invite you to the dance floor even.
If you have nephews or little siblings, they would like to spend time with Doe, mainly because they share a certain naivety in their mentality and the little ones are curious about the strange appearance of your partner, although you would have to be careful that they do not pull too hard on Doe's hair.
Even though Doe went into it with the mentality of wanting to be accepted so you wouldn't abandon him, he could genuinely enjoy feeling welcome and part of a family. He's not willing to lose that. Never. (congrats now you reached another level on his yandereism)
After the initial discomfort, your family would ask many questions, not only to you but also to Doe, although he would probably prefer that you answer it (social anxiety).
"When is the wedding?" your aunt asks.
You just love your boyfriend, don't you?
He's still a weirdo but as long as he makes you happy (and doesn't kill anyone) everything's perfect, right? (your family demanded that Doe not bring rats to parties or eat teeth in front of the children).
♡
#yandere visual novel#yandere#yandere x reader#john doe game#john doe#john doe x you#headcanons#lgbtqia
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Handwritten Letters
VamPride ~ Day 8: Handwritten Letters
Nicki's letter to Lestat before he dies, if he had written it instead of Eleni - Taken from my fic The Light Behind Your Eyes
Transcript:
L. de Valois
21 El Adaweya
Cairo
16th August 1789
L,
The last we spoke was ten years ago and I told you I despised you. It was true and I’m not ashamed to say that claim still stands, I don’t regret anything I said that night and yet I feel it necessary to give you words I left unsaid.
I’ll be gone when you get this. It’s safe to say my restless mind has finally caught up with me and I can no longer bear its torture. I’m tired, L., I want peace. I want to rest once and for all. I don’t believe that’s so wrong. Do you? After all, I’m no longer needed at the theatre, nevermind what they may or may not say, they have the plays they so badly wanted from me and everything belongs to them now.
Even my violin is no longer of use to me, hence why my final wish is for E. to send it to you along with this letter. Our Most Treasured Director sees me predominantly as a hindrance to the company, what with my apparent insanity. Did E. inform you of how he confiscated my violin only after relieving me of my hands? I know how she writes to you of our business back here in Paris.
There are things I need to tell you before I’m lost to the flames. Despite how much I hated you then and hate you just as much now, in a strange way I wish you all the best. I sincerely hope you get what’s good for you in life but then again, of course it will, you always got what you wanted and you always will. I hate you for that, I hate you so much and yet I still hope you get everything you deserve.
You always had such light within you, L. I relied on so much of your light to combat my all-consuming darkness, but it wasn’t enough was it. You failed me but I need for you to know something very important. I need for you to never lose that light, you need it so you can stay strong so you don’t end up like me one day. I lost my fight but that doesn’t mean you need to follow behind me, never do that, L. Promise you’ll never lose, that would be too easy and as far as I’m concerned it would be unfair to me for you to fail at something so effortlessly when you have never failed at anything before, not really. We were supposed to go down in Paris yet you held on to that dream so tightly. If you couldn’t even give me the grace of failing that, then your light doesn’t deserve to go down at all, not when I lost after fighting so hard for so long. It would be an insult to me.
I’m not aware of your current opinions of me and quite frankly I don’t care but I think that despite my hatred for you, there’s still a very small part of me that never truly got over you. I think deep down, something in me still cares about you. Don’t mistake care for love, I don’t love you, those feelings are lost to me, however there is an ounce of care for you still. That even I cannot deny, as much as I would love nothing more than to do so. I’m sure this confession is confusing and harder to believe still but know that as much as it pains me to say, it is true. Believe me when I say no one is more bewildered by this than I am.
Assuming you haven’t thrown this letter down by this point, I suppose I should be nothing if not slightly grateful that you’re still reading but then again I don’t really care. I’ll be dead and gone soon so it matters to me neither way. If anybody should be grateful it should be you. Grateful that I’ve mustered some sense of willingness in my final bout of sanity ‒ sanity which is just about non-existent these days ‒ to bother giving you one last goodbye, because that’s what this is, my dearest L., goodbye. The end of ‘Our Conversation’ if you will. I’m sorry it had to end like this.
Goodbye L.
N.
Theatre des Vampires
110 Rue Amelot
Paris
Lestat's response to this letter which is obviously never sent
Transcript:
N.
It’s been two nights since I heard of your death. I should have expected it would come to this eventually and yet, I couldn’t help but hold out hope you would see it through to the other side.
Did you suffer, in the end? I suppose you were overcome with the weight of your darkness. I saw it, I felt it, before I brought you over. It was unbearable and that was only in the beginning. It pains me to think how much it burdened you, I can only imagine how it weighed heavy in your heart, your mind.
E. told me everything. She told me how even the mention of my name was enough to drag you further into your madness. She told me of your punishments. I don’t regret leaving you there, I only wish there was more I could have done despite my absence. But I know they did their best to help you, they only ever did what was necessary and for that I am grateful.
I never should have done it. I never should have brought you over into the Blood, I knew it was only cause for trouble, G. even warned me. But I had to, I couldn’t let you die. Even when I knew you would hate me after and I would hate you. I did it to save you but everything leads to ruin in the end.
I wish I could have saved you.
Have you found peace in the flames? Are you at rest at long last? I hope, above all else, that the darkness no longer plagues you, that your hurt and your hatred have been washed away by the flames of your funeral pyre.
I’m numb with the pain that your loss has given me. I hate you for it, yet I love you all the same as well. The grief is still so fresh and I don’t think it will ever truly heal. My love for you can never, will never die, N., no matter how much you hurt me, both in the past and in the present.
I miss you. We will find each other again, I’m sure of it.
Rest now, you are always with me,
L.
@valenfangs
#valenfangs#vampride#handwritten letters#lestat de lioncourt#nicolas de lenfent#nickistat#the vampire lestat#tvl#vampire chronicles#tvc#my vampire chronicles#vc events
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NOT FUCKING AGAIN! THE MUSICAL ( TF EARTHSPARK MESSAGES AND MANDROID'S GENOCIDAL HORRORS EDITION)
Holy shit I am losing my mind... @monocle-teacup you better read this <3 (dead serious though cuz wtf)
Also of course as always, spoilers ahead this time for season 2 of earthspark so dont want it? skedaddle (s2 isnt worth caring about though, trust me)
Also again nobody go witchhunting or harassing anyone, this is discussion of media and someones poor takes on some clear themes in a show.
Okay you're using THE TERRIBLE WRITING OF S2 TO PROVE YOUR LITTLE HORRIBLE SLIMY GENOCIDAL GREASEMAN IN THE RIGHT???? WHY ARE YOU VOUCHING FOR HIM. WHY DO YOU SAY HIS IDEAS ARE RIGHT AUUUUGH-
How you continue to have terrible takes astounds me 💀 You can't be serious man how are you this like,,, braindead? And ignoring all of what S1 is trying to teach even before S2 came out? oh wait.
You choose your attraction of a gross ass man over LITERAL IN YOUR FACE PLOTPOINTS BECAUSE YOU'D RATHER MEATRIDE YOUR BABYGIRL MANDROID OVER EVERYTHING THE SHOW HAS BUILT UP. Not like you probably ever cared to connect any of the dots.
Oh, to help you do that, I have a previous post I made where I pinged you! You should read it before you read anymore, it'll help with what I'm about to preface here. Please READ IT.
Okay, time to dig into literally EVERYTHING ALL OVER AGAIN BECAUSE YOU CAN'T SEEM TO LET GO OF THIS MAN AND HIS OBVIOUS LACK OF HUMANITY IN HIM AND CONTINUE TO SEE SOMETHING THATS NOT THERE. I will start off by saying the quality of the writing for season 2 and season 2's entire disregard for season 1 don't discredit season 1, no matter what nonsense there is. I hate season 2 for all its going for thus far and its just genuinely a waste of my braincells to try watching it again. There are also things not specifically related to mandroid but are also pet peeves that show your lack of attention to detail.
How. Did you miss this. Humans have been living with bots for 30 to 40 years at this point they don't bat an eye at them because THEY THINK THEY'RE JUST SOME BOTS CASUALLY WALKING AROUND. They don't give a fuck about the terrans; only a select few know they are even earth-born bots. Transformers have been living amongst humans casually don't you think they wouldn't give two fucks and know not to gawk at random robots walking around like they just started existing?
You saw the Philadelphia episode (I hope? because you act like you haven't) or really any episode they are just chilling and walking around, you didn't notice nobody gave a damn? What about Optimus, Elita 1, and other bots? Would you randomly gawk at a group of sapient beings walking amongst you who've been there for a lifetime?
No.
They had to hide FROM GHOST not FROM THE ENTIRE HUMAN RACE. Ghost would have tried to capture them and imprison them by deeming them a threat for merely existing, not humans as a whole. The fact you miss this entire detail is incredibly sad.
Okay now onto Mandroid stuff because you never stop meatriding him MY GOD
Huh, maybe you need to USE YOUR BRAIN and realize he was not protecting earth. He -thought- he was, because he perceived them as vermin who need to be wiped out and a threat to humanity. Like I said before in my last post DECEPTCONS DO NOT EQUAL ALL OF TRANSFORMERS OH MY GOD. Plus with this season its clear there can't be the same writers on this team. They have sacrificed the story for toymaking opportunities DON'T YOU THINK MAYBE HE'S NOT RIGHT JUST BECAUSE S2 SOMEHOW SAYS THE -CONS IN SPECIFIC (NOT ALL BOTS MY FUCKING GOD)- ARE TO NOT BE TRUSTED AND ARE DANGEROUS? USE YOUR CRANIUM THAT EVOLUTION HAS GIVEN YOU. Mandroid conflated every single transformer with a twisted ideal in his head born out of hate, not from a true sense of danger nor did he separate cons and autobots or unaligned bots in his head from the conglomerate "evil" he thinks they are.
As above so below, you're DEFENDING HIS TERRIBLE GENOCIDAL BEHAVIOR BY BEING LIKE "HE MIGHT HAVE DONE BAD STUFF BUT AT THE END OF THE DAY HE WAS JUST PROTECTING EARTH" over a giant guardian robot who's being mind controlled and had no intention to do this or will of her own. Why are you so adamant on convincing yourself he was a good or commendable man? Where is your basic comprehension of anything in this show at all. HE TRIED TO COMMIT GENOCIDE ON A WHOLE RACE OF BEINGS WHO HAD BEEN COEXISTING ON EARTH FOR YEARS. It's not something you can go 'erm acshually-" on.
He literally killed EVERYONE who was a transformer; even if their death wasn't permanent they still died because he saw them all as a disease needing to be eradicated.
He has no sense of humanity, only hate in his heart and the need to destroy. How do you think he was protecting earth when he had succeeded at murdering an entire population off the face of the earth even if it's only for about 5-10 minutes? HOW ARE YOU THIS BLIND TO MEATRIDE HIM THIS HARD.
I honestly doubt they knew about her, let alone understood the glyphs everywhere. They were just mapping ancient tunnels and figuring it out; Croft also probably forbid anyone from entering due to the DWELLERS, not Terratronus; she was well off course and well protected/hidden by dirt and freaky alien monsters. Even if they somehow DID know, GHOST probably just utilized Terratronus to justify imprisoning dozens of transformers; whether they were cons, neutral, or autobots that didn't want to be part of a government mass incarceration and control program. Mandroid probably didn't give a shit at the moment because he was busy trying to squash literal children like bugs. Shut up about this stupid attempt at the executives making money off of random plot bullshit and toymaking opportunities.
AS STATED IN MY LAST POST: YOU ARE CONFLATING DECEPTICONS WITH ALL TRANSFORMERS, AS MANDROID DID. ONE GROUP DOES NOT EQUAL ALL OF THEM, AND DOES NOT MAKE TRANSFORMERS AS A WHOLE DANGEROUS IF THERE ARE INDIVIDUALS WHO CAUSE TROUBLE. MANDROID SAW ALL TRANSFORMERS AS A THREAT EVEN IF THEY HAD BEEN LIVING WITH HUMANS PEACEFULLY FOR DECADES. YOU ARE HERE SIMPLY REITTERATING A STUPID AND NULL POINT THATS PROVEN WRONG AGAIN AND AGAIN IN S1. His reasoning behind his actions are "we need to get rid of these filthy dangerous vermin who are invading our precious planet." Also the chaos terrans being born evil is a horrible plotpoint and groups being born evil is terrible writing, just like the entirtey of Season 2 because these new writers on the team understand nothing about the show as is. (Yes, most of the writers in s2 never worked on s1)
This one. this one enraged me. This is the most recent post I'd seen about mandroid as of writing (june 8th) and you have SERIOUS AUDACITY to say this. HE KILLED ALL OF THE MALTO BOTS AND TRIED TO KILL ROBBY AND MO; WHAT MAKES YOUR FUCKING MANDROID LOVING SHRUNKEN AND POCKED BRAIN THINK THAT HE WOULD TEAM UP WITH THEM LIKE SOME BUDDY BUDDY ADVENTURE? HE ATTEMPTED AND COMMITTED GENOCIDE, UNETHICAL EXPERIMENTATION, CHILD MURDER, AND MORE.... HE WOULDN'T MAKE JUST """""SMARTASS COMMENTS""" HE'D STRAIGHT UP HATECRIME ALL OF THEM.
I'm not gonna be nice with this last one. You are incredibly media illiterate if not just lacking basic cognition to think he of all people would willingly team up with people he wanted to kill off during season 1. You watched the finale of season 1 and GATHERED NOTHING FROM IT. You, in all your 34 years of life, somehow have not obtained a single gram of "maybe I shouldn't vouch for and defend a person who's xenophobic and wants to commit genocide" despite enjoying writing and HISTORY. HOW ARE YOU ONE TO ENJOY HISTORY YET MAKE NO CONNECTIONS TO ATTROCITIES COMMITTED BY PEOPLE TO WHAT MANDROID IS DOING AND HOW THEY ARE WRONG AND ENTIRLEY UNFORGIVABLE. At this point I believe you to be willfully ignorant to pass off your crush on this man as okay and convince yourself he is right somehow; even going as far as to utilize this new season as an excuse for him.
Your audacity to think he is anything other than a pathetic horrible man with terrible and morally bankrupt goals and actions somehow will be nice to groups of people he hates astounds me to no end. The show gives you all you need to connect the dots and you haven't. I'm aware i'm likely talking to a brick wall because you're likely willingly ignorant to excuse yourself or will never read this but I will call out this nonsense regardless. It comes off as extremely weird and bordering on you just believing in the ideologies he spouts.
I will say this again to make it clear; Mandroid is a stand-in for people who believe in racist and xenophobic ideas, and will stop at nothing to destroy them. The transformers are an allegory for refugee immigrants, and the terrans are first gen decedents. You continuing to believe his lies and defending him just borderlines on you upholding racist ideals. (That might sound deranged af of a claim but considering the context... yeah)
TLDR for lazy people: This fool pinged in this post is claiming a character who ATTEMPTED TO COMMIT GENOCIDE as being in the right somehow with his ideals/actions and not a total morally bankrupt person. Meatriding getting in the way of logic.
-No cheers to you, Wizard and Cupid
#ultimatefartwizard#transformers#transformers earthspark#transformers related#tf earthspark#mandroid#tf mandroid#transformers mandroid#transformers twitch#transformers thrash#wizardyaps#media literacy#illogical#i'm turning into shockwave oh my god....#dr. meridian#earthspark mandroid#earthspark spoilers#maccadam#maccadams#transformers nightshade#transformers robby#transformers mo#media discussion#im still so upset about this season its terrible#earthspark season 2#earthspark starscream#transformers starscream#ignore the wall of tags I'm insane
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TotK Link
Okay, I know not everyone has played Tears of the Kingdom, nevertheless finished (I know I haven't), but I just have brainrot that I need to spread.
And I now have the platform to do so >:)
So, of course, Spoilers under the cut!
CW: Yandere, TotK spoilers!
・❥・So, this can go two ways. One, TotK Link is Wild who was taken mid-adventure with the other Links. Or, two, this is an entirely different Link, kind of like Calamity (AoC Link-- there are some great headcanons about him -> Here! Go check them out they are so, so good.).
・❥・I like both ideas! But, let's talk about the second option.
・❥・So, imagine, the chain and Reader are coming through a portal to this new Hyrule. Or, well, they think it's new. It's oddly reminiscent of Wild's Hyrule only...bigger. There are islands in the sky, holes covered in what appears to be malice in the ground. People are more abundant, there are towers standing, glowing a welcoming red rather than the golden towers in Wild's Hyrule.
・❥・It's so different, but yet so familiar.
・❥・Now, it's evident that this Link is a little more...Feral. Look at his hair and tell me otherwise, you can't. This man had won. He had won, gotten his victory over the Calamity and was supposed to have the rest of his life to settle down. But he didn't. It was ripped away from him once more. Not only that, but he was thrown back to square one. Gloom now riddled his veins making him feel like he was newborn fawn stumbling out of the Shrine once more. So he's probably livid. Angry with Hylia and fate, and Ganon and and and-
・❥・He has no patience left to offer.
・❥・Zelda was supposed to have unlocked her sealing powers, no? And she did nothing. Actually, that's a lie. She used them to save herself. He was left dying again and she saved herself. After he destroyed the Master Sword, the only thing that made him anyone, protecting her. Destroyed his arm. Destroyed himself. And she saved herself. Rauru had to protect him. Had to save his life before Zelda did.
・❥・So, yeah, he's a little less...companionable. He had to save someone who wouldn't give two shits about him again. He thought they had improved their relationship, but he guesses not. Betrayal runs deep in his gut, igniting a fiery inferno that burns on spite.
・❥・And the worst part about it? Everyone around him is praising that damned Princess. For the bare minimum. Showing them a recipe, building a school that should've been there years ago, hell, even just having a horse got her praise out the ass.
・❥・He was tired of it.
・❥・People stay out of his way a lot more. He wears a look that promises some form of harm should someone cross him, and he's more than willing to deliver. Because now, it's not just the one land of Hyrule. Now he has to deal with the Sky Islands and the Zonai creations. Now he has to deal with the depths and all of those creatures which just bring back the gloom he dispels. And he's so over it.
・❥・Now, picture if you will, Reader falling through the portal, separated from the chain, scared and alone. Reader thinking they're in Wild's Hyrule, but his doesn't quite look like this, does it? Reader thinking that, hey, at least they're hidden and in a forest, only Oh Sweet Goddess Above-- THE TREES ARE MOVING-
・❥・Reader doesn't know what to do because THE TREES ARE COMING AFTER THEM, they were forbidden from having a weapon (Because why would they be separated ever? They were there to protect their sweet reader? why would they need to burden themselves with a weapon when the Links could fight for their honor?), and THE TREES WERE ATTACKING THEM-
・❥・But, here comes their knight in shining armor- or some sort of blue tunic. Honestly, the tunic was styling if we're being honest; the open back and split sides along the hips? (Iykyk)
・❥・The trees are taken care of easily and the blond is turning to look at reader.
・❥・Reader just knows. "...I'm gonna guess your name is Link?"
・❥・And while on the outside, all he gives is a simple nod, it's anything but simple. You, this gorgeous being that he just so happened upon, recognized him. It seemed that without Zelda parading him about like some show dog for all of Hyrule, people didn't know who he was. but you? You did? You knew who he was? And the way you were staring at him was like you knew what he had done. The sacrifices he had given. And you were thankful and appreciative. Which was all he asked for.
・❥・You then thank him (You THANKED him) for saving your life and explain that you had been separated from your group. (Group? You had a group? And they just...let you out of their sight?) He offers to help you look for them and you eagerly accept.
・❥・Now, he latches onto you pretty quickly. Your already used to all the Link-isms so he isn't much different. The silence, the constantly guarded exterior, your used to all of it. And it just convinces him further that you're perfect for him.
・❥・Eventually the rest of the chain do pop up. But this Link isn't convinced their safe, after all, Ganon could make puppets out of everyone. Whose to say their not puppets or Yiga? It's better to stay with him, can't you see that?
・❥・The chain obviously have a different opinion on the matter, Legend all but Demanding you back. Hyrule and Four try to placate this Link, while Wild, Wind and even Twilight are trying to think of way of just scooping you up and running. Sky and Warriors are trying to barter with this Link (What does he want? Fairies? Potions? Money? They could have it all should he just give you back). Time is the only one to recognize that this is still a Link. He still wants what's best for you. That doesn't mean he trusts him.
・❥・If Fierce Deity and First are int he group at this point, they too are probably either trying to manipulate explain to this Link that they are in fact your aforementioned group or are just barely holding onto the shred of sanity left thats stopping them from simply doing away with this obstacle.
・❥・But this Link, like all Links, is stubborn. Not just a regular stubborn either. He has learned the hard way that if he wants something, he's going to have to fucking cling to it to keep it. And he's not losing you. Eventually they explain the situation after a bit of your pestering and he loosens up, just the slightest, to take in their words. That doesn't mean he lets go though. Oh no, he just lets them meander closer without threatening a flame throwing at them.
・❥・He's sort of indifferent to Wild, I would think, since they're kind of the same person. He was just dealt the shittier hand.
・❥・When asked where Zelda is, he simply points up (Maybe her name is Natura? Idk, I'm uncreative). He does not elaborate. They don't ask him to.
・❥・Now, it's obvious you have just claimed this Link. He's yours. Sorry not sorry. It's just a matter of taking him with you. He's insistent on not leaving your side. The Demon King isn't actually doing anything, other than unleash monsters the people of his land are already familiar with. This is obviously a new threat and he's a Link isn't he?
・❥・In terms of names? Maybe he's the hero of the Zonai because Tears of the Kingdom doesn't really give us much to work with. Maybe they call him both Zonai and Sage. I like Sage, so I'm going with that.
・❥・The way he fights is fast and brutal, delivering hits that dissipate his enemies own mobility before delivering a fatal last hit. He's a unit of a man, probably like Twilight, if not a little smaller. (Have you seen the shit he has to lug around? Mans is built.) Same height as Wild though, just more built.
・❥・As for the type of Yandere he is? He's on you. Constantly. He is hovering over you because anything and everything can be ripped away from him in an instant, as Hylia as so helpfully shown. He is making sure nothing gets the chance to get closer to you. And he's using his new abilities to do so. Wild is probably interested in the abilities and the arm and the tech, since his Hyrule, after Sage's, is the most technologically advanced.
・❥・He's inspecting your food, checking your person every time you disappear out of his sight for a second, snarling at people who attempt to talk to you.
・❥・The group have to keep him in check like an untrained puppy.
・❥・Oh, but how he laps up the attention Reader bestows upon him. He is such a cuddle hog and he knows it, smirking smugly at the others while you hold him close because oh how his arm hurts so badly, didn't you know? Oh, how the gloom has him feeling absolutely rotten, please can he just lay with you for a while? Just until he settles back once more? Pretty please?
Anyway, those are my thoughts for now, feel free to add your own!
#linked universe#linked universe x reader#yandere linked universe#yandere linked universe x reader#legend of zelda#linkeduniverse#loz#Lu x reader#yandere legend of zelda#yandere legend of zelda x reader#legend of zelda totk#tears of the kingdom#tears of the kindom spoilers#But imagine him!#He would be so loving#because he knows what its like to lose everything#and he remembers it all#just wanna give him kithes
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there is something very sad about Peg just wanting to tell BJ about her day to day life, the mundane things in the house that need to be fixed and the funny things that happen to her, all things he would've enjoyed hearing about or would've handled with her if he'd been there, and having absolutely no idea what effect these letters actually have on him
#mash#peg hunnicutt#bj hunnicutt#hi I need to be in my feelings about the Hunnicutts#because I keep seeing posts about Peg's letters acting like she's deliberately setting him off somehow and they annoy me#she is literally just describing her day to day life she is filling pages with mundane chores and tasks and encounters#telling him every little thing that happens that made her laugh#because she loves him and misses him#and she wants him to know everything that's happening while he's away#she has absolutely no idea that BJ loses his goddamn mind over some of these#how would she know how he gets over the gutters? the kitchen flooding?#those are day to day things that just happen#all she's doing is rambling on in letters because she has to tell him every little thing every day because she loves him#she's writing these things thinking he'll just smile maybe have a laugh#because thats what he would've done when he was home with her#and thats why its so sad#she doesn't know these things dont make him smile#she doesnt know how much he's changing#she doesnt know how much he's already changed
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"Yona was just added bc Nintendo wants people to stop shipping sidlink!" Literally what the hell are you talking about
#yes nintendo is homophobic. no they do not give a singular shit about what their fanbase does??? what are you talking abouuuutttt#they literally dont care what people do as long as they get money??? like what#listen im upset abt yona having so many unanswered questions. mainly she came from another zora's domain#meaning she came from outside of hyrule. so that leads to a lot of questions.#but howww do you come to the conclusion that she was just added as a 'no homo' indicator#dont even get me started on the people genuinely unironically calling this queerbaiting. what are you onnnnnnn#'and oh but sidon said he used to see her as a sister! so its gross and wrong!' sidon literally thought out loud to links face abt how#had things been different and link had gotten married to mipha he would be his BROTHER IN LAW. SAID THAT OUT LOUD TO HIS FACE. so shh#imo. yona was added for one 'ohh wow exciting new character look at this' and two. as a way for sidon's trauma to be acknowledged#bc it was veeery briefely shown in botw. for like. a singular second if you snuck up on him at mipha's statue#but yona's defining scene in totk was her forcing sidon to confront that he wasn't being himself because of that trauma. and that#he needed to let go of the fear around it. if only temporary. because his people needed him.#so tbh?? sheis very important to the plot. she new mipha. admired her. knows why sidon still struggles with this and#how difficult and frightening everything becomes when he views the world through the lens of 'what if i lose someone again'#like. they added yona for his struggles to be spelled out to the audience even further#so to just boil her down to 'ewww woman gets in the way of my gaybies 😡😡😡'. hello. did you play the game.#do you even know who these characters are. quick gimme ten facts about sidons character that you didnt make up for shipping purposes.pronto
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the amount of time i spend thinking about Even carrying the metacrisis doctor’s fob watch is really quite disproportionate to how much ive fleshed out that part of the story in my head
#i still find myself not caring if the metacrisis doctor couldnt use one. he can because i said so and because donna shouldn’t get amnesiaed#alone.#but anyway. even. its just something about like.#here is your best friend. the man who showed you how big the universe could be. its still him human or not. its still the doctor.#can’t call him that. have to watch your tongue always because no matter how familiar their faces are. these two people do not remember#everything you did together and never can. at least they still love each other. nothing could change that. that’s what matters. you steer#them into each other’s lives so carefully and watch to see if they’re going to get hurt. but they don’t. it’s okay.#and still. and still. you carry your best friend’s life. everything that he is. you can hold it in the palm of your hand. he gave it to you.#he entrusted it to you. well. that’s not entirely true. technically you volunteered. but how else could you say thank you.#you made your world so so small again. for him. larger than you would’ve been used to once but you know what galaxies feel like to fly#across. and now you’re stuck in time and space. this is for love too. this is for the life you hold in your hands.#or wear around your neck on a chain. and because you chose this. you can never see him again. or you see him every day and he doesn’t#recognize all of you.#that would make anyone desperate wouldn’t it? make you do something stupid. make you turn to someone you shouldn’t.#even makes bad choices when they are cornered. i think.#dw oc#the important bit is of course that the only way they can ever get rid of it is by their own choice. which they never would choose to do.#(because tentoo won’t take it back. he’s his own person. impressions of the doctor influencing him. but the part of him that is donna doing#so as well. a whole new person. who does not want her memories back and to be unmade.)#but the point is that the moment even takes it. they will never let it go. they will lose it. on painful occasion. but it always finds its#way back. depending on the context this presence and responsibility is either comforting in its constancy.#or. in a less kind world. a horrifying reminder of how far they have fallen from who they tried to be for him.
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