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your-eternal-lies · 1 month

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_ LOVE IS A CHOICE (chapter one)

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PAIRING — Bucky Barnes x Agent f!Reader SERIES SUMMARY — In your experience, relationships only bring drama and heartbreak, and you want absolutely none of it. That is, until an act of sheer recklessness brings Bucky Barnes back into your life.

WARNINGS — Mentions of divorce/failed relationship/marriage, insomnia, ptsd, war, past character death, animal death, grief, blood.

LOVE IS A CHOICE

CHAPTER ONE

You sit in shock trying to digest the unexpected news. You stare up at your friend, who tells you of her impending divorce with an air of nonchalance as she cradles her ten-month-old baby in her arms. Meanwhile, her four-year-old toddler hobbles around the table, having lost interest in the grown-ups’ conversation.

Lisa, an ex-agent, an old friend from your SHIELD days, had been with her spouse for over a decade. You had always been a cynic when it came to romantic relationships, but you thought she truly hit the jackpot. She had everything most people strive for: a house in the suburbs, a loving husband, and two beautiful children.

And now she’s telling you that her marriage, and her entire life, has basically just imploded for a second time. Her husband just up and left, told her that this—the white picket fence, the minivan, the two daughters, the life she had helped build—was never really what he wanted. Lisa couldn’t understand, but he simply just said he didn’t want her anymore.

You were incredulous. You knew Lisa’s husband; he was your friend, you went to their wedding, you shook his hand and smiled at him, listened to him gush about his first-born daughter when you visited them in the hospital.

He couldn’t have spoken up sooner? Literally at any time during the last decade? Ideally, before they got married. Ideally, before he made two children with a woman he apparently never wanted?

Just like that. Ten whole years of claiming to love someone and it all goes down the drain overnight. An entire family, who was by all means happy and united just days ago, now irrevocably blown apart.

Your heart aches. You’ve seen more than your fair share of failed marriages and relationships over the years. You understand that sometimes people change, that sometimes people drift apart, and sometimes it really isn’t anyone’s fault.

But this? This is a whole new low.

Lisa’s circumstances hit you particularly hard. You don’t even think she realizes just how shellshocked she herself looks, let alone you. Not knowing what else to do, having no words in your repertoire that can possibly bring her any comfort right now, you reach across the table to take her hand.

She squeezes her fingers around yours, her eyes suddenly welling up with tears as she coos at her fussy baby.

It’s official for you right then and there. Romance isn’t real, love is dead, and men are just trash. If love is a choice, then you’re making the choice to have absolutely nothing to do with it, because the drama and heartache just aren’t worth it.

You look at Lisa’s two young children, who are innocent and sweet with their adorable chubby cheeks, and how their lives aren’t ever going to be the same now. You know your friend wouldn’t trade them for the world, she loves them to pieces, and she’s always wanted children—but she deserves to have this with someone who wanted it with her, with someone who would stand by her side as her partner, through thick and thin.

Through your sympathy and disappointment, you make yourself a promise. This won’t ever happen to you. You won’t allow even a sliver of a chance.

You’d rather die than to give a man that much power over you, enough to potentially break your heart—and your entire life—in one fell swoop.

Not again, anyway.

Until you do.

While the rest of the world sleeps, Bucky Barnes stays up to bake. Bread, that is.

Rest eludes him, and it has for years. Whenever it does come, it’s fleeting and full of noise—all flames and smoke and agony. So instead, he takes on a graveyard shift at an improvised little bakery with a clientele of just one, run directly out of a tiny remote cabin in the middle of the northern Canadian wilderness.

This isn’t the future he’d envisioned for himself. Bucky never expected to look up one day and discover that his love, peace, and joy weren’t where he had left them. Who ever does?

He never expected that the idea of going home would no longer bring him any sense of comfort, even though he had once spent so many nights dreaming about it in his youth, all the while sleeping directly under the moon, surrounded by young soldiers just like him.

He remembers counting down the seconds until the war would end, but for him, the countdown always seemed to reset at some point or another. And home no longer exists for a man like him. Brooklyn used to be it, but now he just feels overwhelmed and wistful passing by the streets and shops that look nothing like he could remember.

Amongst the team back in the stark white walls of the Avengers Compound, Bucky felt out of place. All he wanted to do was disappear, shrink back from any and all attention aimed his way. He’d tense under the constant scrutiny, afraid he would make one wrong move and commit a fatal mistake.

And then it wouldn’t just be a bunch of nameless faceless soldiers who’d be at risk. If he messed up now, it was his best friend on the line, the only one who stood up for him against the world when they were all calling for his head.

It would be good people on the line, those who picked up the mantle of Earth’s mightiest heroes and took the job seriously. Bucky couldn’t take that chance.

Especially not when one of them always seemed to be glaring daggers in his direction, as if waiting for him to screw up, as if lying in wait for Bucky to validate all of his reservations about allowing him a place on the team to begin with.

Tony Stark. A living, persistent, painful reminder of the innocent blood etched permanently into the lines of his mismatched hands.

So, the former Sergeant of the 107th Infantry Regiment packed up his bags and left the New York behind. It wasn’t the place for him, no matter how hard Steve had tried to make room for him there.

But it weighed too heavily on Bucky’s conscience to just walk away completely, even after all this time. Even after his therapist suggested it might be good for him to make a clean break once and for all.

After months of consideration, and asking Natasha for advice, she handed him the file on the team’s seldom-visited safe house tucked away amongst the pine trees and snow-capped mountains of northern Canada. It was currently unmanned, a lot of turnover in that position; nobody remained as the keeper of that safe house for more than a few months at a time.

Bucky, however, took the file from her hands, taking in the photo of a small rustic cabin disguised as a modest five-room bed and breakfast, miles and miles away from the closest town in each direction, surrounded by nothing but forest and snow, and decided it was perfect.

Steve had been reluctant to let him go, but Bucky wanted—needed—a place of his own. A place where he could feel like nobody was watching or listening. He needed to feel comfortable enough to close his eyes at night, to scream out his demons whenever they came for him, where he might feel okay about letting himself heal.

And then he waited.

Because that’s what they say, isn’t it? That time heals all wounds? But he waited and waited, yet happiness showed no signs of returning. Still, he supposed he could grow content to live out the rest of his days in a meaningless, almost mindless existence. At the very least, he would be alone for it.

The occasional mission he joined back in the States, usually with some combination of Steve, Natasha, or Sam at his side, provided him with enough spontaneity to prevent him from growing restless. It provided him with some semblance of purpose, a happy illusion that he could somehow wipe away all that red in his ledger, as Natasha would put it—or at least attempt to balance it out.

And when he got out of bed one night, tired and weary but unable to sleep, for some inexplicable reason he went venturing into the kitchen for something to eat. He wasn’t normally the type to snack during the night, but hey, who needs to count calories when you’ve got a magical serum in your veins that keeps you fit and healthy no matter what you do?

He rummaged through the cupboards, and paused when he came across an unopened bag of flour, wrinkling his brows together as he couldn’t remember buying it.

Well, whatever. There’s a lot he doesn’t remember, after all.

He opened it up, dipped his flesh hand inside, his fingertips sinking into the soft plush powder. And before he knew it, he was kneading balls of dough with flour-covered hands, cutting lines and patterns into the tops of unbaked loaves before they went into the oven.

How did he even know how to do that? Still, his hands move with practised ease, with precision, as if someone must have shown him about a hundred times. But he highly doubted his handlers at Hydra ever spent any of their valuable fascist time teaching him how to bake.

The wind howled outside in freezing cold temperatures, but Bucky stayed warm and toasty inside his cabin as it filled with the sweet smell of freshly baked bread. A marmalade sun crept over the horizon and painted the rustic walls a dreamy shade of orange-pink. Bucky sat in front of the oven, staring through its front window at the way the loaves slowly rose with hot air, as if with life.

Then the strangest feeling came over him, his own chest feeling like it was expanding in almost the same way.

He took the pans out of the oven almost as soon as the timer went off, immediately tearing off a piece at the end of a loaf, sinking his teeth into a morsel of warm soft bread. Tears sprang to his eyes as memories came flooding back.

The person who had taught him all of this was named Winnifred.

But to him, she would only ever be known as Ma.

And even though his grief was gargantuan, Bucky smiled to himself as he ate. It was the first time in a long time that he remembered something good, something other than calamity and blood.

The strands of his mother’s long brown hair coming undone from the messy bun at the nape of her neck.

The way her cheek always felt cool and smooth against his whenever they embraced, the scent of her perfume—like magnolias in May—filling his nose whenever she held him close.

The sound of her voice, soft and warm like the bread she baked, in a way that only a loving mother’s could be.

Baking soon became a late-night ritual, his way of remembering and honouring his late mother, of self-soothing after a restless night, and reconnecting with his past—some of his memories occasionally returning, coming together like the dough he’d formed with his own two hands.

His companion simply watches. She doesn’t speak much, but sometimes, as silly as it sounds, Bucky gets this sneaking suspicion that she can—and was simply choosing not to.

Alpine blinks her big blue eyes at him, regarding him with an impervious tilt of her tiny little head, her ears pointed in his direction.

He’d never been much of a cat person before, either.

It wasn’t lost on Bucky that his new home is surrounded by treacherous yet breathtaking icy capped mountains, similar to the ones that used to guard his underground dungeon back in Siberia. Still, he names the cat after them, the only thing worth looking at while he lived in secret, like a ghost story.

His therapist told him it might help, a little akin to rewriting history with his own pen, reassigning meaning to words and symbols that used to cause him pain.

And Alpine never brought him pain. For a creature so small, she only ever brought him companionship and solace.

Bucky came across her unexpectedly, only weeks after he moved into the cabin and finally unpacked the rest of his boxes. She popped out of the snow like a mischievous little child, causing him to drop the logs he’d collected for the cast iron fireplace in surprise.

Despite her games, she’d been too skittish to let him close enough to take her inside, and he had been too awkward and unsure of himself to even attempt it. Instead, in the days that followed, they simply coexisted, only briefly acknowledging each other if they ever crossed paths again.

But as the Arctic summer began drawing to a close, he began seeing her everywhere. Her milky coat should have kept her well-hidden, but it was her eyes that gave her away—bright and blue, like a cloudless sky, near impossible to miss against the undisturbed background of white snow.

He’d be chopping more wood for the fireplace when he’d suddenly see her out of the corner of his eye, sniffing around the pile of logs. He’d been waiting in the lawn, searching the skies for any signs of an incoming quinjet, which would arrive any minute to pick him up for a new mission.

Bucky would startle when he turned and saw her perched atop one of the wooden chairs on the front porch, head always slightly tiled to one side as she watched him curiously.

He’d be sitting outside for some fresh air on a warm day (well, as warm as it could get around these parts), a thick plaid blanket across his lap, ready to relax with a cup of hot cocoa, only to jump and spill it all over the snow when she appeared almost magically at his feet.

But then he heard her distant cries one day, unable to resist following them into the forest, scanning the trees and squinting at the snow until his well-trained eyes finally found her.

He stood, brows knit together, hands clenched tightly into fists at his sides, as he stared into the makeshift den she had made for her kittens. He didn’t know.

But it didn’t matter now. They all lay motionless, every last one of them, almost as if they were asleep. Alpine nudged them over and over again with her frost-covered nose, meowing desperately in a language he simultaneously didn’t understand and in another that he did.

Bucky finally scooped her up then, ignoring her protests and the way her claws and teeth scratched and bit at his hands. He took her home, listening to her cries the whole way back, even as she squirmed and struggled, trying to get back to her babies.

She scratched at his door for days trying to get out, before eventually resorting to hiding in his bathroom when she realized that wasn’t going to happen. Her blue eyes admonished him every time he went inside, but he remained unapologetic.

He wasn’t going to let her out again, not when he knew that the harsh wilderness of the upcoming winter would easily take her too.

It took a long time before she emerged, exploring the rest of the cabin with an air of feigned indifference. She would stare out the windows for hours, just watching the snow pile up, probably wondering. Probably lamenting. He’d set down a bowl of food that she would ignore for a little bit, before her hunger gave her no choice but to turn away from the glass.

Her little pink nose twitched as she sniffed the food, and Bucky cautiously reached out a hand. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to do, but he froze with a ray of afternoon sunlight struck his silver arm. It blinded him for a moment, a stark reminder of why he was alone—of why he had chosen this existence in the first place.

And so he stood there, his hand suspended just above her head, not really knowing where to go from there.

After a few moments of watching each other, he could have sworn she let out a sigh of resignation. Bucky will swear up and down to anyone who will listen that she looked almost bemused as she lifted her head, stretching out her neck to touch her forehead against his open palm.

Her eyes sparkled as if with stars, and suddenly, Bucky had the whole universe in his hands. He’d heard the saying, and he supposes it’s true: the cat chooses you, not the other way around.

Alpine likes to watch as Bucky works, even though he rarely ever allows her to partake in whatever he makes. He always tells her that it’s full of empty calories, insisting that his own eating of all the freshly baked goods is done purely out of love and not, in fact, selfish gluttony. If only cats could roll their eyes.

She watches him, making a game out of placing her tail in the path of his hands as he kneads, only to sweep it to the side at the last second when he goes to bat it out of the way.

But suddenly, she looks up from the kitchen counter, eyes darting towards the door. She lets out a rare meow, as if she’s actually speaking to him, her ears twitching as she picks up a sound he also hears.

There’s someone outside the cabin.

The sound of footsteps aren’t steady, uneven and choppy, like someone is stumbling through the snow, despite the fact that nobody else should even be in the area due to the dense forest and isolated location of the cabin. Still, this is technically a bed and breakfast, and he is technically equipped to take customers.

But something doesn’t feel right. Bucky wipes his hands on his apron, pausing when the sounds of footsteps stop before the newfound silence is broken by a muffled thud somewhere beyond the door. He waits to see if he can hear anything else. Just more silence.

Bucky takes slow and deliberate steps towards the front door, his stomach clenching with the anticipation of a fight with every step. There is something in the air, the smell of something he hasn’t smelled in a while, but he remembers it just as clear as day.

It’s the smell of blood. He reaches underneath an armoire in the entryway where he’s hidden one of his guns, carefully pulling it out of the drawer. He’s about to throw open the door, point the barrel of his pistol out into the darkness, when it hits him.

Blood, yes, but also wild berries. Soft violets. Sandalwood and sage.

His heart plummets.

He opens the door with a bang, letting in a dusting of freshly fallen snow and the biting cold of a stray northern current. He sees a figure lying in the bank, surrounded by a growing pool of red, bleeding into a ghastly familiar shade of pink in the frost.

Bucky’s screams of your name gets lost in the howling wind.

« Series Masterlist || Chapter 2 »

Notes — This is my first time posting a fic here, so please be nice! I would also love to hear some nicely-worded feedback lol, if you would be so kind 🥺

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x you #summer’s fics

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 8 months

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Everybody Hurts

Chapter 2

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: You needed to escape, escape from your life, your messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks you couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known you and Cam, had known your shame and failure. So, you took the first job you could get, teaching third grade in a town called Hawkins. Little did you know, you were walking right into another messy situation, a messy situation with big brown eyes and long dark waves. But he's resistant, at times unbearable and you start getting curious about the town's past, his past, especially when things don't start adding up.

18+ Only for eventual smut

Next chapter: 09/06

Word Count: 5K

Masterlist

A loud, frustrated sigh rose from your throat as you looked over the mess of clothes you'd flung across your bed in an attempt to find something to wear tonight. You wanted to make a good first impression on these people who had never met you before but you didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard either. It was a bonfire at a lake so anything dressy was out. You flung the sky blue top and long black skirt to the side. That was definitely too much. It was also an early May evening so it would still be slightly chilly once the sun went down. That eliminated the shorts and short sleeve tops unless you wanted to wear a jacket and you really didn’t.

You finally settled on a pair of black, ripped jeans with an oversized beige sweater. It was stylish but casual, cute but comfortable, and it would keep you warm as the sun set later, taking the last of the day’s warmth with it. You grabbed your black Converse, pulling them on and lacing them up. Trekking through the woods was going to require sensible footwear, definitely no chunky heels for this party. That was just asking for you to trip over a branch, fall on your face, and humiliate yourself. Not exactly the kind of first impression you were going for. This was your chance to reinvent yourself and you wanted to do it right.

Heading into the bathroom, you ran your fingers through your hair that was cut off just above your shoulders. It had been an impulsive decision after your life had imploded. You had been desperate for a change. You didn’t want to be the person you used to be anymore. You wanted to look different, to be different. No longer the stupid girl who’d walked around for months unaware of what was going on right under your nose. You'd wanted to wipe the slate clean and begin again, to be someone fresh and new. So, you'd walked into the salon and had them chop off eight inches.

It was supposed to be this catalyst, this decision that launched you forward into your new life, invigorated with energy to go out and seize the day. Take away the hair and take away all your problems with it. But when the stylist had turned your chair, your reflection staring back at you in the mirror, all you could see was the same sad, pathetic idiot who’d been cheated on by your husband for a year and had no idea until you caught him in the act.

You had paid and thanked the girl for the fresh cut, smiling and lying through your teeth when the girl asked if you felt like a whole new woman. But then you'd stumbled into your mom’s house, ignoring your mother’s offer of food, gone straight to your old bedroom, tumbled into the bed and laid there all night, feeling like nothing was ever going to change the failure you had become. Thirty and divorced and living with your parents. It was deplorable and you were worthless.

You shook off the memory, refusing to go back to being that girl. As you walked down the hall of your new home, your eyes flashed over to your bedroom doorway, glaring at your bed as if it was the bed’s fault that you'd laid there or on the couch wasting away for months. As if it hadn’t been your own decision to let life pass you by, to let the world keep turning while you chose not to participate in it. As if you hadn’t willingly moved to a new town and then hid inside your house, allowing yourself to sulk in the sad state your life had become. No, you definitely weren’t going back to being that girl. That girl was pathetic. She let the two people she trusted the most in the world betray her for a year without realizing what was happening right under her nose. She let that one moment, the simple act of opening a door, beat her down, stop her from living, and she wasn’t going to do that anymore.

You had a new house and a new job in a new town and you had some new people to meet. People who had no idea about your past. People who wouldn’t look at you like you were some fragile thing that was about to break, laying their hand on your arm and asking how you were doing like you were a child who couldn’t handle tough things. You shuddered at the thought. The worst part had been people acting like you were some kind of shameful thing, like you should be branded with a scarlet letter, like you were the one who had betrayed your marriage. The dumb girl who couldn’t keep her husband happy enough not to stray. The poor idiot who’d had patches over her eyes, blind to what was happening. That was why you'd moved. You couldn’t take it anymore. In a small town, everyone knew. Everyone had known the two of you, the high school sweethearts that went to college together and then got married, the couple that was supposed to stay together forever. You needed to go somewhere where no one would look at you like you should be pitied because they wouldn’t even know there was a reason to. You were not going to divulge that particular information to these potential new friends because you didn’t have to.

Hawkins hadn’t been well thought out. You had simply been looking for open teaching jobs that weren’t so far away from your hometown that you couldn’t still visit your family but far enough away to never have to worry about running into people you knew. Tracy, a teacher you worked with in your old town, had a cousin who worked at Hawkins Elementary. She told you they were looking for a new third grade teacher, the last one having retired. You'd made a call to the principal and been offered the job right on the spot, right over the phone, sight unseen. They hadn’t even asked for a portfolio or references. You had considered that to be fate trying to tell you something. You were meant to be in Hawkins, Indiana for some reason. Or maybe it was simply desperation to get the hell out of the town that judged you and start over somewhere that had you agreeing to the first job that came your way. Either way, you had taken it as a sign and immediately began looking at house listings.

Your house wasn’t much. It was a small two bedroom bungalow on a corner lot, but you had a little front porch that you were planning on getting some planters for. You had empty flower beds along the front just waiting for color and you couldn’t wait to start planting things, watching them bloom, new life sprouting in a riot of hues. The white porch swing was one of the things that had caused you to fall in love with this place on sight, imagining sitting on the swing, a cool glass of lemonade in the summer or a hot cup of coffee and a blanket on a crisp, fall morning, a good book in your hands. Maybe it wasn’t much and maybe it needed some work. Okay, maybe it needed quite a bit of work but it was yours and that was what mattered most to you right now as Cam hadn’t left you with much of anything to call your own once the papers were signed.

You stepped out, locking the door behind you. Your bike was propped against the front porch, just the way you'd left it after returning from the diner, knowing you would be using it again in a couple hours. You didn’t have a car right now, something you would have to remedy soon. You hadn’t had much left over after the down payment on the house and you'd had to save up some cash for a car. You finally had it now. You just hadn’t gotten around to looking for one yet. But for now, with summer around the corner, the bike worked and you figured it was excellent exercise. And wasn’t that supposed to fill you with endorphins and make you happy or something?

You pedaled back toward the lake, a flurry of excitement and nerves creating a storm in your stomach. It felt like tenth grade all over again, being the new kid, hoping you could fit in somewhere but fearing you wouldn’t. Friendships were already established, cliques formed, and you feared that you would be the oddball, always on the outside looking in, never having the door opened or even cracked in invitation. Then Cam had spotted you, decided you were worthy of his time, worthy to join his group, and all of that had changed. You were the shiny new toy that he wanted displayed on his arm for everyone to see.

You tamped that thought process down quickly. No, you would not even think of his name tonight. He had no place in your thoughts. He didn’t deserve an ounce more of your time. Tonight was the start of the new beginning you'd been wishing for, for far too long. You turned into the woods, following the same path you'd taken this morning toward the lake. Catching sight of a bunch of cars pulled off to the side, you were relieved to see you'd found the right place.

“Hey!” Max yelled, waving with a welcome smile as you rode up, hopping off and propping your bike against a tree.

You noticed Max was still wearing her sunglasses even though the sun was already beginning to set. You idly wondered if perhaps she had some kind of vision problem but it felt like a rude question to ask someone you barely knew. You filed it away for a later date, perhaps once you had gotten to know each other better.

You made your way over to the waiting group of people, teeth pulling nervously on the inside of your cheek. You really wanted these people to like you. You didn’t even know them yet but you wanted it desperately. To have a group you could hang out with, a reason to get out of your house and out of your head for a while. You offered them a tight-lipped smile, raising your hand in greeting.

“So, you’re the new girl,” said a guy with caramel colored hair. It was great hair, like ridiculously amazing hair for a guy, full and lush and falling over his head perfectly. He stepped forward, extending his hand out to you. “I’m Steve.”

“Hey, nice to meet you. I’m Y/N,” you replied, his hand warm and soft wrapping around yours, shockingly large. His hand swallowed yours completely as he brought the other up to cover it as well, surprising you when he simply held your hand between both of his instead of the customary shaking.

One by one you were introduced to everyone in the group. There was Nancy, a beautiful, curly haired brunette who greeted you with a hug like you were old friends. There was Jonathan, her husband, shaggy haired and soft spoken, offering you a shy smile and a quiet hello. Argyle, a guy with truly epic raven black hair that fell all the way down to his ass and loud clothes in brilliant colors who asked you if you'd ever partaken in Purple Palm Tree Delight. You had smiled in confusion, having no idea what he was talking about. Lucas, Max’s boyfriend, had a kind smile that took up his entire face and a warm demeanor. El and Mike, another couple; El had greeted you warmly but Mike had seemed a little standoffish, like he wasn’t sure about a newbie being invited to their group. Will, who was Jonathan’s brother, was just as soft spoken as him but a bit more shy, nodding and mumbling a soft hello. Dustin, a curly mop of blond curls and one of the most amazing smiles you'd ever seen, absolutely warmed you from the inside out when he welcomed you loudly, genuinely seeming happy you were there. Robin had taken you aback a bit when she lunged at you excitedly, asking you six questions before you had even had the opportunity to introduce yourself.

“Alright, how about we all take a step back and let her breathe before interrogating her?” Max suggested, spreading her arms out wide as if to shield you. “I think we might be overwhelming her just a bit. Damn guys. She just got here. I told you to be cool.” She ducked her head close to you, bringing a hand over her mouth as she whispered, “Good people but a little much. You’ll get used to it.”

One side of your mouth curved up into a crooked grin, already feeling at ease with this group of people. You'd been so nervous about just showing up at their party, being the uninvited crasher. Okay, technically you had been invited but only by Max. You hadn’t been sure if the others would be as eager for you to just show up but they all seemed pretty okay with it. Maybe not Mike, but you got the feeling he was just reading you, holding back judgment until he knew you a bit better and you could understand that. Trusting people wasn’t always the best idea. You knew that better than anyone.

“Alright, let’s get this fire going before the sun goes down completely,” Steve announced, rubbing his hands together. “Come on boys. Make yourselves useful.”

Lucas, Mike, Dustin, and Will began gathering wood from the edge of the treeline, bringing it to Steve and Jonathan who were arranging it for the fire. Argyle stood at the edge, observing…maybe? You weren't quite sure what he was doing. You had a sneaking suspicion that he might be stoned. It had been a while but you still remembered what it looked like.

Robin grabbed onto your hand, leading you over to the same tree trunk you'd used as a bench to read on earlier. The other girls followed, El and Max plopping down in the sand, Nancy hopping up on your other side. They all looked at you eagerly like you were some freaky sideshow they couldn’t wait to get a closer look at. Oh goody. You were going to be the center of attention. What else did you expect? Once again you were the shiny new toy.

“Alright, so tell us absolutely everything there is to know about you,” Nancy instructed eagerly.

“Everything?” you asked cautiously, thinking there was nothing you would rather do less. You wanted these people to think highly of you and they definitely wouldn’t if you told them everything. “I mean, that’s kind of a tall order. I thought we’d probably just start with the basics. You know, surface level stuff? Like my favorite color is red.”

Robin snorted, her hand waving so close to your face, you felt the breeze of it pass over your skin, “Surface level is boring. We want to deep dive, get all the juicy bits. What brought you to Hawkins? Where did you come from? Are there any guys…or girls in your life? Do you have brothers and sisters? How was your childhood? Happy or full of trauma and angst? Have you ever been arrested?”

“Whoa,” you laughed, holding your hands in front of you and cringing when you noticed how shaky it sounded, sure they had as well. You pulled your lower lip between your teeth, trying to process the onslaught of questions the overeager girl had just sent your way. “That’s a lot.”

“Yeah, well, Robin’s a lot,” Max teased, her hand grabbing onto Robin’s knee. “We love her in spite of it but she’s a lot. She knows she’s a lot. You’ll learn to tune her out or shut her down.”

“Yeah, you do not have to answer all of that if you don’t want to,” Nancy assured you, her eyes widening pointedly at Robin, clearly gesturing for her to back off. Robin just shrugged. “But we would like to get to know the newcomer to our little group and our town.”

“Okay. Well, I moved here from Galena,” you began, feeling like that was fairly safe information to share. “It’s this small town in Illinois, only around three thousand people total live there. It’s the kind of place where everybody knows everybody’s business.”

Robin snorted, “Well, then you’ll definitely feel right at home in Hawkins.”

“I’ve noticed,” you chuckled. “I think I already made friends with the lady who runs the coffee shop downtown this morning.”

“You mean Millie?” asked El, eyes wide. “I love Millie.”

��Everybody loves Millie,” Max pointed out. “She makes the best cinnamon rolls in town. Maybe the best ever.”

“Yeah, I have to agree. I had one this morning and it was definitely the best I’ve ever had. I think Millie and I are going to see a lot of each other,” you replied, grateful that perhaps they were moving onto other topics that weren’t you. You decided to take full advantage and turn the spotlight around. “So, I know Max works at the diner, obviously. What do all the rest of you do?”

“Oh, well, my husband and I work for the Hawkins Post,” Nancy answered with a proud smile, her hands coming to rest on her chest. “I’m a reporter and he’s a photographer. It’s been a bit of a long road to say the least. I started off as the glorified coffee and lunch girl, basically their secretary. It was awful at first. I did just an internship to start and I hated the guys who worked there. But new blood took over after…uh…well, a couple of the employees died. I mean, one of them was the owner.”

“Oh my god…” you gasped in shock. “Multiple people from the same place died? How? Was there a car accident or something?”

“A mall fire,” El answered quickly. “Nineteen people died.”

“Nineteen? Wow…that’s awful,” you murmured softly, noticing how Max’s head turned, her focus off in the trees suddenly, her throat moving hard as she swallowed.

“Yeah, it was like this freak thing,” Robin blurted loudly, a shaky laugh following. She cleared her throat. “Not that it’s anything to laugh about. It wasn’t funny, like at all. It was tragic. I mean, horribly tragic. All those people burning to death and all their families and then we lost the mall so Steve and I lost our jobs. I had to help him get a job at Family Video with me because Keith hated him and I had to convince him…”

“Yeah, it was really awful,” Nancy said pointedly, teeth clenched. “Anyway, after that the Hawkins Post got a new owner and that guy wasn’t quite as bad. He still treated me differently from the guys but I proved myself in the end and now I have my own desk.”

“Nice,” you commented with an uncertain grin. That conversation had taken a weird turn. Robin seemed pretty nervous and Nancy acted like she shouldn’t be talking about it. Maybe it was just a really awful memory. Maybe one of them lost someone. “It’s tough getting your foot in the door in a male dominated industry. Good for you.”

“Thanks,” Nancy replied with a slightly smug smile that was clearly well-earned.

“I am a pet groomer,” Robin told her, smiling and shrugging. “I opened up my own shop a few years ago right along Main Street.”

“Wow! I love animals,” you told her. “I had a dog but I…” You stopped, chewing on your bottom lip again. Nope. Those were the things you were not going to focus on today. Thoughts of your sweet Marley would only bring on the waterworks. “Anyway, that sounds like such a fun job.”

“It is. It’s the best job because it doesn’t even feel like a job. I get to play with dogs and cats all day who I prefer to people anyway. I mean, I think they prefer me too. I’m not always the best with people,” chuckled Robin, holding her hands out to the side and shrugging.

You snorted, “Animals are definitely better than people. What about you, El? What do you do?”

El shrugged, “I work with Mike. He’s a sales manager at the car dealership and I answer the phones and stuff. I didn’t really have a normal school experience so he helped me out a bit and got me the job.”

“Oh…why…”

“Alright ladies, while you all sat there just chatting away and relaxing, us men did the heavy lifting and got the fire roaring for you,” Steve called from the beach. He held his arms up, waving everyone over. “Come on. Come over here and appreciate our hard work. Your men have made fire!”

Robin snickered, “What does he want us to do? Applaud?”

Steve stuck his tongue out at her as you followed the other girls over to the flames. You had to admit, it was a fairly impressive fire already. The flames rose high, reflected across the lake’s surface, ripples of light dancing and twirling as the surface of the water rippled in the breeze. You held your hands out in front of you, allowing the heat to seep into your fingertips, already tingling with the chill. You'd always run cold, one of the things that Cam found endlessly annoying about you, complaining about their heat bill every winter, insisting you just needed to bundle up more in the house. You'd already be layered in a long-sleeved tee, a sweatshirt, leggings, and sweatpants. What were you supposed to do? Walk around in the house in your puffy winter coat?

“Well, I actually would applaud this fire,” you told Steve with a warm smile. “It’s pretty epic.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, his head tilting forward as he came around to stand next to you. “Well, thanks. I always work really hard and nobody around here appreciates me, you know.”

“That must be really hard for you,” you teased.

“It really is.” Those soft brown eyes widened, likening him to a puppy dog who desperately wanted their belly rubbed. It should have been ridiculous but it was actually kind of sweet. “So, did you survive your interrogation? Did Robin at least keep the amount of questions to under fifty?”

You laughed lightheartedly, “I survived but she did throw them at me rapidfire style. I only answered one and then they were telling me what they all do for a living.” You leaned over, bumping him in the side with your elbow. “So, Steve, what do you do for a living?”

“Me? Well, let’s see. I was too stupid to get into college so my dad refused to help me. He said I needed to earn minimum wage to see what it was like being down there with all the other peons who couldn’t get a college education so I worked at an ice cream place for a while until the mall burned down.”

“Yeah, the others were telling me about that. How awful. How long ago did that happen?”

“Let’s see. Back in…” He paused, squinting one eye as he did the math. “...the summer of ‘85. It was horrible. Lots of people…they, uh…died…” Something flickered across his face, something haunting, something painful but then he shook his head, tongue running over his upper lip and it was gone just that quickly. The mall fire was clearly a sensitive subject for all of them. “Anyway, then Robin and I worked at Family Video for a while. Then she abandoned me and worked at the bookstore for a bit while I worked at the arcade.” He grimaced. “Yeah, not the most grown up job for the adult I was but man, I had no idea what I wanted to do. It definitely wasn’t that though. All those kids running around, getting their sticky nasty fingers all over the screens and spilling drinks all over the floor. Ugh. I bounced around for a little bit. Anyway, I finally made a decision and now I am a cop.”

“A cop?” you asked, eyebrows raising as you tried to picture this pretty boy in front of you in a cop’s uniform. The two images just didn’t quite mesh. You'd expected him to be in a tailored suit in some office somewhere or doing the weather report on the evening news, not passing out speeding tickets and arresting drunks.

“Yeah,” Steve shrugged. “I mean, I kind of have this thing about taking care of people. Keeping people safe, you know? I didn’t realize it at first. I just thought I was doing what I needed to do. Our police chief, Hopper, was the one who gave me the idea, actually. He said he thought I’d be good at it. So, here we are.”

“Wow. Well, I guess I should feel safe knowing one of the first friends I made in Hawkins is a cop.”

One side of Steve’s mouth curved appreciatively at your comment, “Yeah, well, you know.” He shrugged and then appearing a bit embarrassed, he cleared his throat, pointing across the fire to Dustin. “Henderson over there is some kind of computer wizard or something. He has his own IT shop. He fixes people’s computers and builds them and shit. I don’t really understand what he does but he’s damn good at it. Always been a genius, bit of a know it all but he’s smart as hell so I guess he’s earned the right to be. Will’s actually an artist. His work is displayed in the shops downtown and he just had an exhibit in the Indianapolis Art Museum not too long ago. His stuff has caught on lately. Lucas was in the military for a bit and now he’s an accountant. Quite a drastic change for him but, you know, if you need your taxes done next year, he’s your man.” He smirked. “Argyle is a chef. He’s originally from California but he moved here a while back and he opened his own pizza place about five years ago. It’s pretty good pizza. I wasn’t really sold on pineapple on my pizza but it’s damn good. Argyle insists everyone try before they deny. And Eddie’s a mechanic.”

“Eddie?” you asked, looking around the group. You were almost positive you'd been introduced to everyone and you didn’t remember the name Eddie. Your eyes landed on each face, placing a name to it. No. You definitely hadn’t met him. “Where is he?”

“He’s right here.”

Your eyes followed the sound of the unknown voice, landing on a tall, lean silhouette striding out from the treeline. As he approached the fire, the light caught him and you could make out long, wild chestnut waves flowing down over the shoulders of a leather jacket. Heavy work boots crunched over the long dead leaves, left to decay from the winter, bringing him to stand right in front of the flames, across from you. His arms folded over his chest, hands clad in chunky silver rings covering the front of his plain black tee. Cast in the light, you could make out more of his features and he was striking. His jaw was firm and sharp like it had been chiseled out of the most durable material. His lips were plush like two pillows you wanted to melt into. His eyes were the deep brown of the Earth, deep and expressive. It was the type of face you wanted to look at, the type of face that made it hard to look away but you finally managed, your eyes investigating the rest of him.

Rough, jagged lines, pale white in the light of the fire were visible under his jaw and along the side of his neck, leaving you to wonder what had happened. You were almost certain those were scars but the low light and distance made it hard to tell. The tendon along his neck was taught, hard, as if he were tense and angry. His shoulders were broad, narrowing down to a slim waist. You found yourself frozen as you drank in every little detail of him through the flames.

His eyes found yours across the flickering light, those deep brown orbs gazing into yours, feeling as if they were piercing your very soul. Feeling as if they were trying to read everything about you, as if you were a book he could open at leisure, discovering all the secrets within. And those eyes made you want to let him, to unlock the doors, throw open the windows, and let him shine light into all the dark spaces.

It was as if time itself had stopped the instant his eyes locked onto yours. Your breath caught in your throat and you were struck with a sudden, intense longing to leap over the flames, to taste those full lips, to feel those disheveled waves between your fingers, to find out exactly what he smelled like.

What in the hell was happening right now? You couldn’t get your brain to cooperate with you. You were coming off the rails, completely out of control of your body and the way it was responding to this man you didn’t even know. You told yourself it was just your hormones taking over, like a swarm of wild bees buzzing and flying around with no regard for the consequences of their actions. You hadn’t gotten laid in months. It had been the longest dry spell since you'd lost your virginity and your body was reacting to the ridiculously good looking man in front of you. That was all it was, the most rational explanation.

As you became unsteady on your feet, your hand grabbed onto the closest thing it could find, Steve’s arm, to steady yourself. You feared that if you didn’t grab something tangible, you were going to fall into those chocolate pools and drown. That wasn’t what scared you. What scared you was that you weren't sure you'd even want to be saved. Eddie’s eyes flicked over to where your hand had landed on Steve and then back up at you.

“And uh…just who the hell are you?” asked Eddie.

Chapter 3

Taglist

@tlclick73 @bebe07011 @eddiesguitarskills @witchwolflea

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thornsnvultures · 1 year

Text

bending the rules

older!dilf!Steve Harrington x plus size!fem!Reader

summary: Robin convinces Steve to take a yoga class only to bail on him at the last minute.

cw: alt universe/non-canon, awkward!divorced!Steve (he's been out the game for a minute), fluff, 1.7k words

an: I have like half of a smutty bit for this fic written but it felt kind of tacked on so I left it off. if enough people enjoy this I'll post that bit later. also thank you to @hellfirehottie420 for the yoga class idea and to @ozarkthedog for gassing me up and encouraging me to keep going when I wanted to give up! It's not a big fic but we celebrate little victories here. (divider by @/saradika)

an 2: the model in the moodboard is not representative of the reader insert. there's no physical descriptions in the fic. I just didn't want anyone giving me a hard time with that "fat people can't do yoga" shit. every body is a yoga body. thank you 😌

After Steve's marriage fell through he resigned himself to never doing that again. He made a mess of things the first time around anyway. And not knowing what a happy, stable marriage looked like growing up sure didn't help either.

So when things finally imploded he took it on the chin and vowed to be the best dad he could be. He wouldn't let his failed marriage take that away from him. Dating was off the table and for a long time casual hookups were too; it never felt like the right time.

Robin had insisted on him getting out there, doing something for himself that didn't involve kids or work. Steve used to have fun, he was the king of fun! Now he was sure he wouldn't know fun if it hit him in the face with a bat. And he sure as hell doesn't know how he let Robin talk him into taking a yoga class at the town rec center.

She was supposed to be here, to help ease him into having some semblance of a social life, but she bailed at the last minute blaming a mix up in her schedule.

"I forgot I already told Nance I'd take her out tonight. Just go! I'll come with you next week, I promise."

Steve sighed, standing outside the classroom doors with his hands on his hips. He can see a few people milling around, chatting and rolling out mats as he hesitates there in the hallway.

"It'll be fine. Just go in, stretch out some old joints and go home. Easy. Nothing to be afraid of. You're not afraid," Steve shook his head. Standing outside and talking to himself wasn’t a good look. Not with this mustache on his face.

He looked through the windowed doors and swallowed, "It's just a room full of women in spandex. You're not a creep, it's exercise, you're here to exercise."

"First time?"

Steve nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees you standing there smirking at him. Your eyebrows rise and you gesture to the rolled up mat under your arm when Steve takes a little too long to respond.

Shit, should he have brought his own mat?

"Yeah,” Steve croaks and you smile. “I mean, yes. This is the beginner's yoga class, right? My friend was supposed to do it with me but she bailed."

“Ah,” your smile falters a little but you nod and open the classroom doors leaving Steve to wonder what he said wrong.

"They have mats over there if you need one," you point to the stack on the other side of the room then introduce yourself. Steve knows he's staring at you like a hapless idiot but he successfully remembers to give you his name in return, along with an awkward handshake.

"Thank you," Steve doesn't want to let go of your hand, so warm and soft it's messing with his head. "Sorry, I'm, uh, I'm a little nervous. I haven't done anything like this since my 20s."

"What, exercise?"

Steve feels a twinge of pride at the way you glance down at his arm muscles. You furrow your brow and bite your lip and Steve knows you can tell by the way they swell under his short sleeves that you know that can't be true.

"No, I mean going out,” he shrugs, wiggling the mat in his arms, “trying something new."

"Ah," you nod your head and smile again and Steve wonders if you can hear how fast his heart's beating.

You're walking towards the front of the class now with your mat and Steve in tow, asking him what made him want to try yoga of all things. Steve admits his friend Robin had signed him up for the class and that he rarely gets out of the house these days.

“Oh, same,” you nod in understanding and Steve sighs in relief. “I’m so busy between work and going back to school that I barely have time for myself. The yoga studio is my happy place.”

Steve smiles and is about to ask you what you’re going to school for when he's stopped by the teacher suddenly clapping her hands together and calling for everyone to get settled so they can start.

"Can I?" Steve gestures at the spot next to you and you smile again.

"Absolutely."

---

The class passes in a sweaty blur. Steve thought he was in decent shape. He lifts weights in his garage at home, runs a few days a week, and generally takes care of his body. He was an athlete for god's sake, he's familiar with all that jazz. Nope. Steve nearly pulled a few muscles in his back he didn't know he had.

It also didn't help that the shorts he wore to class might've been a little too short. He hoped, for the sake of the woman behind him, that his thighs were the only things he was showing off during downward dog.

You, on the other hand, were a champ. Graceful in your movements and barely breaking a sweat. You admitted to him halfway through the class, as the teacher made her rounds correcting poses, that you usually took the more advanced class but liked to hop in on beginner class days as a refresher on basic poses.

"You're doing great!" You shoot Steve a thumbs up and he feels his face heat at your encouragement but sends a shaky thumbs up back.

Sweat lines his forehead and he pushes his flop of hair back when it falls in his face before moving on to the next pose. His glasses had slid down his face enough times that Steve stopped fussing with them and put them off to the side, but his hair he couldn't do anything about, unruly as it was.

He catches you watching him a few times, once in warrior pose when Steve accidently put the wrong foot forward and wound up facing the opposite direction as the rest of the class. The way you tried to hide your laugh when he pretended like he was surprised to see you there lit him up inside.

The next time he caught you was when he turned his head towards you while tucked in child's pose. It seemed like your eyes were on his legs, maybe checking to see if he was doing the pose right? When you realized he knew you were watching your eyes went wide. Steve smiled and you quickly turned your head back down to the mat. Maybe you weren't checking his form after all. Or maybe you were? Steve couldn’t wrap his head around it. Were you just being nice or had you been checking him out too?

As class wrapped up Steve rolled up his mat and thanked the teacher for her help, promising to not only come back next week but to bring a friend too. He couldn’t wait to make Robin suffer through an hour of this. And you, he had to thank you for making tonight one of the most enjoyable nights he'd had in a long time.

"So I'll see you next week?" You adjust your bag over your shoulder. Most of the rest of the class had left but you didn't look like you were in much of a rush.

"Yeah, I'd love to. I mean, I’ll be here. I had a lot of fun."

"Glad you tried something new?"

Steve swallows at your teasing smile, suddenly feeling like "something new" didn't mean yoga anymore. His eyes drifted down to the light sheen of sweat dotting your chest and he quickly pulled his gaze away.

"Definitely."

"Good," you nodded.

You were starting to walk away. Robin would kick his ass if he didn’t make a move.

"Hey! Uh," you turn around to see Steve reaching out for your arm before pulling his hand back. He stops and scratches the back of his head. "Do you, I mean, would you like to get coffee sometime? As a thank you for…y’know, helping me with my poses."

Steve smiles and hopes he doesn’t look like a dweeb when he fidgets and pushes up his glasses.

"Walk me back to my car?"

The corner of Steve's mouth tilts up and he motions for you to hand over your gym bag. Once it’s tucked into the crook of his arm he nods towards the door at the end of the hall.

"Ladies first."

---

"You looked like a lost puppy. But honestly, it wasn't the first time I've seen a man looking intimidated outside of a yoga studio."

Steve gapes at you as you laugh.

"I was...making sure I had the right room."

"Sure, big guy," you chuckled as you patted Steve's arm.

The two of you finally reach your car and you tap the unlock button but stop before opening the door.

“Thanks for walking me.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want you out here by yourself this late at night.”

A group of teens on bikes ride past the rec center a moment later, probably on their way to the well-lit basketball court on the other side of the building where a few other kids are already playing.

“Mhm. All these ruffians around. Why, a girl just doesn’t feel safe ‘round these parts anymore,” you tease in a shy southern belle accent.

Steve chuckles and ducks his head. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. And I'm glad you came tonight."

“Me too.”

Steve found himself inching closer to you as your back pressed against your car. "So will you? Get coffee with me, that is?"

You looked up at him through your pretty lashes and Steve didn't care about his age or his creaky joints or his fear of fun. He wanted to find himself again in your eyes. If you'd let him.

"What about your friend? The woman that was supposed to come with you tonight?"

"Hmm? Oh, Robin? I think she'd say you could do better," Steve grimaced, shaking his head. "Her girlfriend would say the same thing."

"Oh," you laugh into your hand. "Gotcha."

"Why'd you ask?"

"No reason. Coffee sounds great," you whisper and lift your chin to press a kiss to Steve's stubbled jaw.

He stands there in the parking lot long after you gave him your number, hastily scribbled on the back of a receipt pulled from your purse, and drove away.

He has to call Robin.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x plus size!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #dilf!steve harrington #older!steve harrington #older!reader #my fics #too much preamble for a relatively short fic #lol

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cassandralie · 9 months

Text

Muriel, the Dimmest Little Morningstar

Maybe the question isn't "was Crowley Lucifer?" but who else was also Lucifer? After all, there was more than one Morningstar

or, as Crowley put it more casually,

he doesn't remember them, of course, probably due to Book of Life fuckery, just like he doesn't remember Fufur and Saraquel, who were also probably in the Morningstar Legion (that or the rebels called themselves Morningstars).

Which is why he also doesn't remember Muriel and Muriel also doesn't remember him. Both of them had their memories altered by the Book of Life*

*Sub Theory: the Book of Life erases who you were, makes it so you never existed... but you don't disappear or die. You become someone new. Hopefully this theory doesn't implode later--yeah, that's right, I made that sub joke instead of the other kind involving um...sandwiches.

But, just like Pepperidge Farms, the Metatron remembers.

he didn't say the "dumb" one, or the "stupid" one. Maybe to be polite. But "dim" isn't very polite either. It's just slightly less on the nose than the "not very bright one", aka the Dimmest Morningstar

But what happened to Muriel and their original memories? The same thing that was going to happen to Gabriel, obviously!

Muriel is basically a junior reporting angel. Sorry, scrivener. A no one and they know it.

Ranked so low they didn't know there was a rank under (which there probably wasn't until the Metatron wanted to punish Gabriel)

whatever Muriel did Before the Fall, whatever their name used to be, the Metatron didn't get rid of them because:

that's right, Neil Gaiman the Metatron will need Muriel for his evil plans, probably involving thee Second Coming and another apocalypse.

maybe to keep them out of the way, or maybe because they have power he's waiting for the right moment to unlock.

But he does make sure it's still locked.

Other people have explained that the book is about pieceing together fragments of the past* Maybe Muriel will remember who they are? Remember who Crowley is? Remember what really happened to cause the War in Heaven, the Fall, all that?

Maybe they will remember just in time to stop the Second Coming and the Second Armageddon--with help from our divorced dads, of course.

(*also a missing uncle - Crowley? A fellow Morningstar.

*also an estranged father with a belief in a higher power - Aziraphale? the Metatron?

*and also an exploded Grandmother - God? Muriel's previous identity?)

For further evidence, please note the star and crown on their helmet and recall "everything is meant" TM

This looks like a former Prince of Heaven, Morningstar Legion to me

And that is my theory :)

(if anyone said this first, sorry! All credit to you!)

Now, I'm no published author and barely anyone reads my fics (but the ones who do are Real Ones-- I love ya'll), so I have zero street cred here, and am probably so off the mark my dart hit the wall instead of the dart board, but I wanted to share my thoughts anyway and see what everyone thinks. Please let me know!

(Bonus Crack Theory: Muriel's original name was Lucy/Luci/Luciel. Combine with Fufur, that would make a Lucifer with bad demon spelling Lucyfur.)

#gos2 spoilers #gos2spoilers #gos3 speculation #good omens meta #muriel theory #the Metatron #Crowley #Aziraphale #not coffee theory or crowley is lucifer theory but a third even weirder theory #cassandratruths

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writeandsurvive · 2 months

Note

Could I request a Vince from Fire Country x female reader, where they are in a secret relationship as she is a convict, and is the fire fighter program, obviously Vince and Sharon are divorced, with the prompt 1 and 29? Please and thank you

This is my first Vince Leone fic and I hope I did a good job 🥺 So much love for Vince/Billy, he deserves the best❤️

Warnings: inmate!Reader, forbidden relationship, punch, fire fighting

1. I’m afraid I can no longer remain professional.

29. I wish we could stay like this forever

Stay Like This ~ Vince Leone

Vince Leone’s first thought when he saw you, was how a gorgeous woman like you with an angelic face can be an inmate? If you had been wearing an orange jumpsuit, he’d have thought you were someone working at Three Rock, or perhaps visiting someone. But no, you were indeed in prison and he felt stupid. What demons were behind this angelic facade? What have you done?

The first time you and Vince actually worked together, he was surprised to see how much work you did. You weren’t scared of hard work, understanding the urgency of the situations, how every second counts. As a Department Chief of Cal Fire, Vince Leone has very high expectations when it comes to his firefighters and he simply wished you were one of his. On the other hand, you didn’t really pay attention to the Chief, but rather focused on your tasks, listening to every order Captain Manny Perez was giving you. You couldn’t let the fire win.

The second time was at Three Rock. Vince was visiting his son Bode in the evening and as he was waiting outside, he saw you going from the showers to the female lockup. “Hi sir,” you simply said, walking past him. He only nodded at first, but called out your name a few seconds later, making you spin.

“I just wanted to let you know that you’re doing a great job. Makes me wonder if you had some sort of training?”

You shyly smiled, “No more training than what we learned here.”

“Well, that’s impressive. Keep it that way,”

“I’ll try my best, thank you.”

From that moment, you started to develop a crush on Vince Leone. Maybe it was the way he complimented you, or his smile, or his handsome face, his hair, his mustache. Probably all of the above.

You weren’t sure when things took a turn. Maybe it was when Vince caught you before you fell from a cliff and held your body pretty tight against his, or maybe it was when you stayed by his side as he was stuck under some rubbles after a whole building collapsed. “I can’t, Chief, I can’t,” you cried out of exhaustion, fear and frustration as you tried to move the huge piece of rubbles he was under.

“It’s okay, we’re gonna figure this out, yes?”

“I don’t–I, I’m sorry. What can I do?”

“Not let me die in there?” he chuckled, trying to get you to stop panicking.

“Vince!” you shouted, not laughing and looking around for a solution.

“I’m Vince, now?”

“I’m sorry, Chief, I just–”

“You can call me anything you want. Except in front of the others, of course.”

“Do you really want to talk about that, now?” you exclaimed.

“Well I wouldn’t mind the distraction until the forklift gets me out of here. Please?”

You talked for several minutes about everything and nothing. He told you a bit about Bode, his passion for the job and music. He even mentioned Riley at some point but didn’t dwell on it. Knowing from Bode what happened to Riley, you weren’t surprised. You told him why you were in jail and how long you still had, where you were from originally, your family. You told him you’ve been playing violin since you were a kid, and he immediately said he wanted to hear you play.

“Only if you’ll play guitar and sing for me.” you answered.

“Deal.”

Vince never imagined being in a serious relationship after his divorce. After Riley’s death and Bode’s departure, his marriage imploded and so did his heart. So of course, a relationship was out of the question. He never wanted to fall in love again. But he found himself falling for a younger inmate. “Way to go, Leone.” he mumbled to himself once he came to the realization of his feelings for you.

If you put this on paper, the relationship was meant to fail. Both you and Vince actually thought so without saying it out loud. However, you just couldn’t stay away from each other. Vince would sneak into Three Rock every time he could, even if it was for a quick hello and a kiss. You’d talk almost everyday over the phone, whether you saw each other or not. Most of the time you were in the field, Vince would find a way to steal from Manny’s, so you were under his command, and right next to him.

However, one day you found yourself lost and surrounded by fire with one of Vince’s firefighters. You really thought it was the end for you, that you were going to burn alive. And your only thoughts were for Vince. You were silently begging him to save you, promising him the perfect relationship once you were free. The guy you were with was panicking too, and taking it out on you.

When you heard Vince’s voice and started to feel some water, you fell on your knees, crying like a baby. You didn’t know how long you stayed like this, only that Vince picked you up. You held onto him like never before and he held you tight. “You’re okay, baby. I got you.” Maybe some people overheard and noticed things but it didn’t matter at this very moment.

Shortly after, Manny was holding you as you saw Vince punching the hell out of his firefighter. “How irresponsible are you!” He shouted, “That was not my order! Not only did you put yourself in danger but you put–her in danger too. We will discuss this.”

As much as his anger was justified, the punch wasn’t and Vince found himself in some troubles with his superiors. You felt extremely guilty because you knew you were the reason Vince punched the guy. Overtime, you’ve found ways to meet with the man you love; a small distance away from where you sleep.

You were sitting in the grass when you felt two hands on your shoulders which made you jump. “I'm sorry honey,” Vince said softly, sitting next to you. “You usually hear my footsteps.” he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, his other hand cradling your cheek, and you kissed softly.

“I was deep in thoughts.” You admitted, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Wanna share?” He asked.

“Are you in trouble, V?” You looked at him, worried.

He sighed before answering, “Kinda, but it'll be alright.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I know you punched him because of me and I–”

“You're right. I was freaking out because I thought I was going to lose you, and I should have had a better control of my emotions.” He kissed your forehead. “Don't feel guilty, baby. I'm afraid I can no longer remain professional.” He admitted. “I think it'll be better if from now on, you stick with Manny.”

You nodded to that, but felt extremely sad. It wasn't like you and Vince had a lot of time together, and even though it was work and you were fighting fire, being under his command was when you two were able to be together the most. And this was going away.

“Hey,” he grabbed your chin to make you look at him, knowing what was going through your mind. “You only have 8 months. After that, we'll be able to see each other whenever the hell we want.”

“You deserve better, Vince.” You whispered, tears forming in your eyes.

“Don't ever say that again. I love you, I wanna be with you, no matter what. You brought me back to life.”

Since it was summer, the night weather was actually better than during the day. Vince laid down on the grass, taking you with him. He was holding close to him, while your head rested on his chest. Staring at the sky and stars, you stayed like this for a long moment. “You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Vince Leone. I wanna be a better person for you.”

“You already are, not that you were a bad person in the first place.”

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” You said after a beat.

“Soon my love, we'll have forever.”

#fire country #fire country fanfics #fire country imagines #vince leone #vince leone x reader #vince leone fanfic #vince leone imagines #billy burke

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royal-confessions · 1 year

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“Diana was never going to be queen. They were divorced and had been separated for years prior. Everyone saying it should be Diana up there during to coronation ignores the fact that, whether he married Camilla or not, Diana was never going to wear that crown. At best, she’d be mother of a king. But they were fundamentally unsuited to each other and the marriage was always going to implode. It’s Camilla’s title; it never would have been Diana’s.” - Submitted by Anonymous

“People be out there whinging that “Diana should be Queen and not Camilla” seem to realise that they’re flogging a rather dead horse. Get it through your skulls, Diana is gone, and Camilla is Queen whether you like it or not.” - Submitted by Anonymous

“I found it quite funny when I saw a video of a Diana fan wearing a dress full of Diana's photos on coronation day. It won't change anything because Diana will never become queen, no matter what they do, and Camilla will remain a queen, even if they disagree.” - Submitted by Anonymous

“I loath the Queen/Consort debate. Camilla is Queen. She is Queen Consort, the same way Diana would have if history was drastically different. A queen is a queen, consort or dowager. Quite frankly, I'm proud of, and happy for her.” - Submitted by Anonymous

“People sure love to forget that Charles and Diana were already divorced and he would’ve married Camilla even if she were still alive. Diana was never going to be Queen, at best she would be sitting as a guest watching as Camilla got crowned.” - Submitted by theunicorn-inthecloset

#princess diana #Queen Camilla #popular

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willowser · 1 year

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why did ex husband bkg and reader break up ? 😞😞😞

oh dear 🥺 i think it was just a lot at once for you both 🥺

i said this in the tags already, but — i think being a father really, really terrified bakugou. whether he knew he wanted kids or not, the finality in the fact that he was bringing a tiny human into the world to mold and shape is like ajfeuehwkq because he has his issues and his problems and his sensitivities and his traumas and he knows all about them, had them for a while. how that impacts you, i think even after your lil baby was born, he was still working on that. it's probably something he'll have to work on for the rest of his life, the way he copes and deals with his humanness.

but now he's got a teeny baby ? 🥺 one that will watch his every move ? 🥺 one that will learn from him, whether katsuki wants him to or not ? 🥺 you're an adult and the way in which katsuki affects you can be resolved a little easier, because you're a fully developed person, but a baby ?? oh god, i think he was fucking terrified LOL of course happy, ultimately, but this was something that was going to completely alter the course of his life from then on.

and having a baby is hard !! they get sick and scream and cry and it's exhausting, trying to keep up with them !! you come second, especially when a baby is so young, and that is a big change !! coupled with the fact that he's a top hero with responsibilities he can't ignore; there were many, many times when he had to go, you know ? a child couldn't take precedent over his career, even if he wanted it to and — i don't think he wanted it to ? i don't mean this as a negative, but i think there was (keyword: was) a time when he preferred being out on patrol, taking down criminals and working himself to the bone, instead of facing this monumental, inescapable change in his life.

being a hero is all he knows, it's something he's done for so long, and he doesn't know shit about babies !! and i don't mean this to say he totally abandoned you, but he wasn't always home and it's hard enough !! and you had to do a big chunk of it alone 🥺 and it's hard not to get resentful about that 🥺 you're both tired and frustrated and having to adapt and i think it was easy to fight and get distant.

it didn't happen right away, but i do think it was sudden, when it did. you probably asked him not to go to work at times — which was a hard thing to do — and he had to walk out that door and live with himself — which was even harder. i think you wanted time away because you were angry, and then the fight about the house began; he wanted you and the baby to stay, but you didn't want to sit there anymore without him; what the fuck was katsuki going to do with a four bedroom house by himself? it was a mess.

i think you were probably living separately for about a month or two — which put a larger strain on your relationship — before you requested the divorce. because it just wasn't working and i think you were hurt and katsuki was trying but wasn't communicating, which hurt more, and it just kind of imploded. and katsuki was like ABSOLUTELY. NOT — which only started another fight LOL

would not sign anything. would not even talk about it. wouldn't entertain the thought. he's angry because you're angry, he's yelling because you're yelling, your baby is crying and you're fighting over who is going to change him, where he's going to sleep for the night; why would he go with katsuki, when he can never stay home long enough to take care of him ? but if you want him to be around s'damn bad, why are you trying to keep him away ? it was a MESS.

it takes his dad talking to him to figure out what to do, as heart-breaking as that is. has to tell him that time apart might be what's best for the both of you, that holding on too tight might cause more pain than he realizes. it seems like the end, but — it doesn't have to be. you have the rest of your son's life, at least, to understand what you really want from each other, and it was better to preserve that in the safest way possible than to cause irreparable damage.

he only agrees on the condition that you see each other every week, taking the time to have dinner as a family. custody is a fickle thing and you're both more than happy to figure it out amongst yourselves — which you have, over time. it was finalized quickly, once he stopped resisting. once he decided to place his hope in the future alone.

#not to say it's because you had a baby but LOL #listen. babies are difficult and that's okay #being a parent is hard and that's okay #people aren't suddenly selfless perfect beings the moment they become parents — and that's okay #i don't mean to write it as if he's the awful bad guy in the situation bc that's not how i see it ! he's human !#and he has a lot to overcome as it is !#it was just hard ��#harder to keep up with than it was to be apart 🥺#i went off on this again SORRY LOL #my nephew lived with me from the time he was born until about 2ish and it was. ROUGH.#to say the least LOL #cw children #✿ willow writes #✿ ask willow #✿ thoughts: bakugou #✿ theme: ex husband bakugou

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benkybot · 3 months

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Wish the Rumours era of Fleetwood Mac could've played out in the age of internet fandom, like no one ever had band drama like them and no one's done it since. 4 of the 5 band members had massive break up with someone else in the band, the 5th one also got divorced with someone outside the band, 1 of the members also started hooking up with the lighting engineer while divorcing her bandmate!! (whom they were married to for 8 years!!). And make no mistake, these breakups were NOT amicable, none of them would talk to each other outside of work and when they did they always fought. Usually accommodation had to be separated by gender (which would sound pretty normal if it wasn't for the fact that they were put in SEPERATE BUILDINGS IN DIFFERENT PARTS OF TOWN!!!). And given the fact every member of the band hates each other's guts and won't talk to each other, what's the normal thing to do?? Break up?? Go on hiatus?? NO THEY WROTE AN ALBUM ABOUT HOW MUCH THEY HATE EACH OTHER! They all wrote and sung songs on the album about their respective breakups, and let the best songwriter win! Like can you imagine a fandom imploding over this?? People get so wild over hints of fake drama like imagine this playing out in modern times? The discourse?? And this isn't even mentioning the fake news that was floating around the band at the time. News sources announced one of the members had a child only cuz she was seen with one, one of the members was in a coma apparently despite being seen up and about. Like it upsets me that we couldn't have seen the Fleetwood Mac bandom break down and crumble in the internet age, would've been glorious

#fleetwood mac #rumours #benkyposting

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emmashouldbewriting · 10 months

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Did people always pick apart the wales marriage or did it happen when Meghan and harry got together and started being clingy? I remember seeing something on twitter from their documentary that said 70 percent of the hate tweets were from 83 accounts and I feel like someone needs to do that when it comes to the waleses because how does a tweet taken out of context get thousands of likes automatically?🙄

I really don't know, you'd have to find someone who's been a part of the fandom longer than I have. I ended up here accidentally when I went hunting to find out if I was the only one who had a bad feeling about Meg lol

oho, buckle up ladies. They've been picking apart the Wales marriage since 1pm on April 30, 2011. From 2011 - 2015ish, it was done on certain corners of the internet, like Kaiser's section of Celebitchy, and most people didn't pay any attention to it because it was such a tinhatty conversation.

The game changed in 2016ish, after Charlotte was born.

First, Charles's and Andrew's marriages imploded after the births of their second child with the blame falling on the women. These people basically said that why should Kate be any different and started going after her. There's a period of time after Charlotte was born, in late 2015 or early 2016, when Kate suddenly dropped a ton of weight, which these people interpreted to mean as there were problems in the Cambridge marriage that caused enormous stress for Kate and speculated that she stopped eating/kept working out. This chunk of time also overlaps with a period of time where Kate had some engagements with Ben Ainslie in which they were flirty and friendly with each other.

These bloggers/this section of the internet decided that William had cheated on Kate 2015/2016ish, Kate's overnight weight loss was due to stress from his cheating, and she retaliated by having a brief fling with Ben Ainslie. Elizabeth caught wind of this and forced the Cambridges into marital counseling because the monarchy couldn't survive another divorce. (One of these bloggers who believed and perpetuated this is now rather quite popular and is now considered one of the experts here on royal tumblr. I disagree with her take on this and stopped following her because of it.)

This section of the internet also believes that Kate would only forgive William for his cheating if he gave her another baby, which is how Louis came to be. It's very possible that this is the true origin story of the Rose Rumor since we know that Meghan was paying attention to the royal blogs when she was dating Harry.

Second, the other gamechanger in 2016 was, of course as we know, Meghan. Her fans brought a ton of toxicity to the royal fandom that was kind of a "safer in numbers" mentality where people like Kaiser who openly hated Kate and these other blogs who openly picked on the Cambridge marriage (like the bloggers who speculated about the 2015/2016 years) were enabled to speak out more, and more loudly, about the problems they perceived in the then-Cambridge marriage and Kate as a person.

So the "Kate haters" were now speaking as a louder group, which caused the "Kate defenders" to start speaking up and everything kept escalating to where it soon broke out into a fandom war with everyone choosing sides:

Anti-Kate because they wanted to marry William.

Anti-Meghan because they wanted to marry Harry.

Neutral but they're openly misogynistic and sexist about hating Kate.

Neutral but they really hate Meghan because they're closet racists.

Harry stans

Meghan stans (Sussex Squad)

Pro-William/Cambridge because he's the future king.

Anti-Harkles because they're not William and Kate.

Anti-Cambridges because they're not sharing with Meghan and Harry.

Diana stans

Kate stans (who I think are now called Wales Wailers)

The actual neutral middle who's just here for jewels and clothes.

Formerly "actual neutral middle" blogs who had hinky feelings about Meghan.

People with no interest in the BRF

People with no interest in the Cambridges or Sussexes

To answer anon's question about how a tweet could be wildly taken out of context for thousands of likes -- it's because of the fandom war and all these different sides.

IMO, the fandom war was never really resolved. Everyone mostly keeps to their "side" of royal tumblr now. Every once in a while a couple of them clash but it ends quickly and then everyone goes back to their corners. I think the pandemic, the lockdowns, and the lack of royal content because of lockdowns caused a lot of bloggers to chill out on Wales v Harkles - they either left royal-watching all together or found a new "thing" to focus on instead. (I have a theory about this but it's controversial.)

anon thank you so much for writing this all out! you're a real gem, and please give us your theory!!! i'd love to hear it

(i read it while i was eating dinner which is why i'm posting it so quick after the last ask, i already know what they said lol)

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kayleezra · 1 year

Text

Thoroughfare// Joel Miller x GN!Reader

Word Count: 7891

Warnings: Spoilers for the beginning of the game/ episode 1 of the series (character death), swearing and lots of it

Summary: Fic based on the song Thoroughfare by Ethel Cain (please listen to it). First-person POV. Reader and Joel have known each other since childhood but are separate post-outbreak. What happens when they’re reunited and old feelings resurface with the prospect of exploring the West.

A/N: so I edited this like once but in the spirit of the new episode dropping early today I wanted to post this! Let me know of any errors and/or tags/warnings please and thank you!!!!

Being alone after the fall of civilization wasn’t the plan, but given the selfishness and brutality of the new world, it was necessary. It was a dog-eat-dog world, even a human-eat-human world. Most survivors I encountered wanted to take everything I had, even if all I had was the skin on my back. Even long-standing groups imploded on themselves at one point or another. It was lonely but safer, no one to turn on you, trade you, or use you. I hadn’t started alone, on the day of the outbreak I was at Joel’s, it was his birthday and even though he worked I ensured there was a hot meal and cake for him no matter how late he got home. Everything went wrong so fast, we lost Sarah and everyone was fending for themselves, not that I blame them. For a while, it was just Joel, Tommy and me, until things got messy. We were ambushed by a group and separated, I haven’t seen either of them since, survival got in the way of finding them.

I hate not knowing how they’re doing, I grew up with the brothers, I’ve known them for as long as I can remember. Joel and Tommy were hard workers, they were always trying to support themselves and each other. When Joel told me he was going to be a dad I was shocked, he and Amelia had been dating for a couple of years but we were in high school, and I knew it was going to be hard on the both of them. But I was also excited, I’ve always wanted to be an aunt! So I put together a baby shower for Amelia, collected clothing for their soon-to-be daughter and even managed to get them a crib. I was happy for Joel, he always talked about having a family, and wanting that mushy romantic domestic life. I did always harbour a crush on him and wish I could fulfill that for him but was happy nonetheless, he deserved it. They got married after high school at 22, but it was first and young love, it was never meant to last. By 28 he and Amelia had divorced, it was as amicable as possible. They harboured no hard feelings, they both grew and matured and understood it was for the best.

Now, I’m somewhere out east alone. I find some rocks and trees that can provide my resting body coverage and make myself comfortable for the night. I’m calm, or as calm as I can be. Still on edge and alert for any unwelcome surprises but there's only so long I can go without sleep. I never really set up camp, unless necessary, I never wanted to notify others of my whereabouts, I learnt that the hard way. A lonely traveller is an easy prey for any group of 2 or more.

Exhaustion is what lulls me to sleep, the moment I lay down I’m aware of how tired and sore my body is but I don’t have time to care as I’m pulled into a state of half-consciousness

A low groan, almost a growl, rings through my ears, immediately putting me on high alert. My heart is racing at the sudden prospect of danger, it’s unlikely that one lonely infected has travelled near me. Pulling my pistol from my pocket, I prepare to take out a few infected and escape as soon as possible. My ears strain with the effort of trying to hear anything but it’s pretty quiet. I don’t let my guard down, just because I can’t hear them doesn’t mean they’ve left. Then heavy repetitive footsteps, getting closer. I switch the safety off, I’m about to reveal myself when my brain stops me. These footsteps are too consistent, there’s no fumbling around or fast changes in direction. I strain my ears again, there’s no wheezing or the sound of wet breath that accompanies the spores in the infected’s lungs. They’re human, seemingly alone, which makes people very desperate. I’m conflicted if I take them by surprise or wait them out, taking a human life who hasn’t yet wronged you isn’t easy. But do I want to wait for them to potentially wrong me? The decision is made for me when they painfully fall to the ground next to me. They are a man, with eyes squeezed shut and teeth gritted. I run my eyes along him quickly, he’s well equipped but his hands are busy clutching his blood-soaked side. His eyes shoot open, and like I’ve been wounded by his gaze I, “Joel!?!”

His movements stop and his eyes shoot to mine, shocked silence engulfs the two of us. Then I remember he’s injured.

“Let me help you,” I say giving him a hand and bringing him into the nook that was my resting place mere moments ago.

He sits propped up, “you wanna tell me what happened and what I’m dealing with?”

“Bullet wound. Ran into a couple of hunters.”

“How far from here?” I ask while digging for medical supplies in my backpack, worried the hunters may still be looking for him.

“You don’t have to worry about them no more. They were scouting the highway.”

“Got it. What kind of medical supplies do you got?”

“Nothin’”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Christ, alright. Okay, I’m gonna lift your shirt and have a look.”

Lifting his tattered green plaid shirt reveals a bloody mess.

“I’m going to clean the area a bit to see what the damage is, this will probably hurt.”

He nods. Wiping the excess blood and grime gives me good news.

“You sir, are a very lucky man. It’s only a graze. It’s a pretty clean wound which ensured minimal bleeding, the edges are clean. As far as bullet wounds go, this one is a beaut. I’ll clean and bandage it, and then… we’ve got some catching up to do.”

I clean his wound in silence and as the adrenaline leaves his body he becomes lethargic.

“Gotta be honest, I thought you were dead,” Joel mumbles lowly.

“Well, I probably should be. But I thought the same of you. Tommy?”

“Alive as well as I know, he’s got a camp out in Wyoming.”

“West from here,” I add. I don’t know what happened that caused the two to split and I don’t push it.

“Stay here, I’m going to see what I can raid off those bodies you left on the highway.”

I attempted to get up but am stopped by Joel's hand on my arm.

“You ain’t leaving me are ya?” “I’d never leave you, Joel,” I say a bit more sincerely than I intended but in his exhausted state, he’s likely to forget about it.

I’m careful on the dark highway, Joel says I didn’t have to worry about the group of hunters but you can never be too sure. Turns out, the hunters were desperate because they had nearly nothing of use on them, even their weapons were looking worse for wear, and they likely wouldn’t have made it another winter as they were. However, one had something that was of more value to you than anything else they could’ve harboured together, a transfer pump. On a highway filled with abandoned cars, we’re guaranteed to get something working and a full tank of gas.

I make my way back to Joel, he’s barely alert but has enough in him to point his gun at me upon arrival. Raising my hands in defence I reassure him that it’s just me.

“Rest up, I’ll keep watch. You get busy healing.”

Joel lets out an entertained scoff before allowing exhaustion to take over.

As the sun begins to rise, its rays wake Joel. He seems slightly confused at first but relaxes when he sees me and remembers last night's events.

“How’re you feeling?” “Pretty good, all things considered,” he says while lifting his shirt and looking at his bandaged wound. The bandage is still clean of any blood or any other excrements which is a good sign.

“Good because we’ve got a mission.”

“Oh yeah, what's that?” His rough voice asks.

“Getting one of them cars out there to work.”

“Then we better get going.”

We pick a truck that seems to be in order besides a few parts and the fact that it’s blocked in by other cars.

“You ever fix up a car before? Because you were never a car person before.” Joel asks.

“Nope, and I’m still not but I spent time with a group that did and I learnt enough to escape them so I’m more qualified now. You?”

Joel shakes his head, seemingly thinking of something rather than answering my question.

God isn’t real, that much is clear given the current state of the world but I might have a guardian angel because, after a few hours, Joel and I are able to get a truck running. We then spend some time pushing other cars out of the way before we’re able to drive. I’m tired, I haven’t slept in days, I was supposed to take a night's rest when Joel stumbled upon me but he needed it more than me and now that things are going to plan my body begins giving out. I look at Joel in the driver's seat, “where are we going?”

“How about West? We go further East and the coast will make some unforgiving winters. Plus, Tommy’s out West.”

“West it is.”

Once he gets us off the crowded highway, he speaks up.

“Get some rest, you need it.”

I smile, “Yeah… I missed you too,” then prop myself against the window and close my eyes.

I’m softly awoken by Joel's sturdy hand on my thigh and his deep hushed voice, “C’mon baby, let's get some rest.”

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, my neck and shoulders sore from the odd position they found themselves in. Joel makes his way to and opens my door, wraps his arm around my waist and leads me out of the truck and towards a long, 2-story building.

“Where are we?” I ask gruffly.

“An abandoned motel. I’ve already scouted it out, it’s safe.”

I’d normally yell at him for doing something as stupid as clearing a building alone when he has help but I’m too tired. So I lean into Joel and allow him to lead me to a room. Inside is a dingy mattress with some threadbare pillows and blankets, our bags are already stashed under the beaten-up desk, Joel prepped the room before bringing me in, that caring bastard. Joel sits me down on the bed, I fight slumber while watching Joel push random furniture in front of the door and draw the musty curtains over the boarded-up window. Someone was clearly here before us and made it their safe space, I try not to think about what happened to them.

Joel makes his way to me, I can see a small smile on his face, trying to hide the amusement he’s getting from me fighting to stay awake.

“Lay down, baby. We’re safe.”

I do as he says and Joel sits at the foot of the bed, taking my feet into his lap. He begins to carefully remove my shoes. Suddenly I can keep my eyes open with some ease and I watch him, his steady hands and caring face. My chest fills with a warm radiating love, I haven't seen a man with such soft emotions in his eyes in years. Joel hasn’t been consumed by anger, he’s still human, still a good man. It was touching to see given that most of us were left in a world where there was no one else to leave and no one else to love. Looking at Joel I felt some peace, I didn’t care where we were or where we were going, as long as I was with him.

Finally, Joel gets up and joins me in bed, he keeps a respectable distance but in my sleepy state, I have the confidence to inch my way against him, spooning him while resting my forehead in between his shoulder blades. I fall asleep with my arms and thoughts filled with my southern sunshine.

We spend a few days resting before continuing our travels West to Tommy, which sounds like paradise from Joel’s description.

“How much longer of travelling d we have ahead of us?” “Probably no more than 3 days, we’re close.” “Why’d we stop if were so close?” “Needed the rest, plus there are so cars here that we’ll take the gas from.”

I nod, half believing him. 3 days is nothing it seems odd that he stopped for multiple days for 3 days of travel. Unless the next 3 days are hell…

“Do you know something I don’t?” I ask.

“What d’ya mean?”

“Resting multiple days for 3 days of travel? What’s up ahead that I don’t know about?”

“I hope nothin’”

“But there was something?”

“No, look I just- I thought we could use the rest, you’re complicatin’ it”

I’m still skeptical but I let it go. Joel’s being weird, sure we were tired, we always were but you had to trudge on to survive.

“Let’s go,” he says while getting up and grabbing his things to leave.

Joel hands me my backpack, I let out a quiet ‘thanks’ shy under his direct gaze.

“We’ve got some gas to steal,” I say while we leave, distracting myself. I hear Joel let out a scoff to cover his laugh. A smile takes over my face in pride knowing I can still make the man laugh, a laugh I’d kill to hear more often. When we step out of the motel, the morning sun is warm and welcoming. I feel… new. I’m not one for ‘signs from the universe’ but the sunrise and its accompanying warmth gave me this sense that this was a new beginning and that things are going to be okay. I stop to bask in it, letting the sun warm my face and seep into my bones. Joel stops beside me and when I look to him he’s also taken by the sunrise. He looks almost at peace, like in this brief moment the war in his head, heartbreak from his past, and the worry of tomorrow, have all quieted down, allowing him a moment of enjoyment. He looks so pretty. The moment ends and Joel looks at me, catching me staring.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing, I just- You look-.” I take a breath, trying to collect myself while my mind swarms with thousands of things I want to say to him. “I’m just… really happy to have found you again.”

I’m too scared to allow him to respond or even react because I’m already walking away, “c’mon we’re getting gas, remember?”

Joel spends 20 hours driving, he's tired and fighting sleep.

“Joel let me drive, I promise not to crash and I’ll wake you if we die.”

He smiles, glancing at me, “you know where we��re going?”

Shit. “No…”

Joel laughs at my realization.

“We’ll show me on a map! Then I’ll follow that.” I explain excitedly.

“Aren’t you ‘map blind’ as you always put it?”

Just then, Joel and I are years younger, pre-outbreak young. We’re each other's rocks, constantly teasing one another while never letting the other fall.

“You remember that?”

“Course I do, you couldn’t read that damn map even if there was a ‘you’re here’ sticker on it. You gawked at that thing like I handed you an old scripture in hieroglyphics.”

Joel looks young, the recounting of that story releasing the constant stress in his face and body.

“You had it upside down.”

I can’t help but laugh, I did have it upside down. And even in an apocalypse, I am still map blind. However, Joel remembering such a trivial moment in our time together in our past life has me astounded. In a world where life, as you know it is flipped upside down and your daughter is taken from you while still in your arms… it’s hard to imagine those moments still taking up space in his memory.

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” “I don't know because there's so much happening all the time and there's other things that are more worthy of being remembered.”

Joel's face falls, his eyes follow suit, looking at the ground. My name falls from his mouth like a whispered prayer, scared that if it can be heard by the human ear it’ll be tainted. “I held onto every memory of you because sometimes… sometimes it’s one of the few things that keeps me going. I treasured our time together then but now? Now, I hold onto those memories because they remind me of who I was, they ground me, and remind me of how there was so much good in the world.”

He stops but there are still words that are stuck on his tongue, “I thought I lost you for good. Tommy and I- we looked for you but you know how it goes. I accepted that you- that you were no longer a part of this cold and selfish world and yet… here you are. And you still have that warm smile, you’ve kept the damned sense of humour and you’re just as snarky, if not more so, than before.”

My eyes are hot with tears, not the usual tears of loss or frustration or hopelessness but tears of love. I love this man. I loved him then and I love him now and I don’t know if anything could ever change that. I quickly wipe a defiant tear as if he wouldn’t see it. My overwhelming emotions leave me unable to speak, so I don’t, instead, I take his hand in mine. I hold him like a loving partner holding their sick lover's hand to provide comfort, I hold him like my life depended on it, I hold him like he’s my everything because he is.

“You’re one sappy son of a bitch, Joel Miler,” I say quietly.

His chest rumbles with a low chuckle, and his warm thumb smooths over my hand. I relish in the moment of intimacy. Loving intimacy is harder to come by than kindness in this world even in something as small as hand-holding. I think it is more likely that I read a map correctly than I come in contact with regular loving intimacy. Everyone is touch starved and yet no one is willing to be vulnerable enough to provide that touch because people are too selfish for it to be a safe and wholesome act, because one that is often abused and adulterated.

“Only for you, darlin’”

“Well then let’s pull over so you can get some sleep,” I then bring his hand to my lips and give him a small kiss.

Joel hides us in some foliage, trying to ensure we don’t stick out like easy prey out in the open. We fold the back seats and do our best to make the musty upholstery comfortable, not that it’s the worst place either of us has slept. The sun will rise in a couple hours and in dead spaces like this? That signals a sort of quiet. Most hunters move at night in these areas, trying to catch innocents off guard while they’re trying to rest. Travellers move as fast as they can in the night thinking danger will be asleep. The world is a free-for-all but when the sun sets? It becomes a war against you and every other thing, living or not.

“I’ll keep watch, you rest,” I tell Joel.

“Ain’t you tired?”

“I got some sleep in the car, plus if I really need it, I can sleep when we’re on the road again.”

I sit myself up against the back of the driver's seat, placing different clothing items in my lap, “come on, I promise not to fall asleep,” I tell Joel, gesturing to the makeshift pillow I’ve made with my lap and clothing.

Wordlessly Joel situates himself, laying on his back with his head in my lap, groaning when his body relaxes and he becomes aware of the tired and sore muscles within his body. Something is missing…

“Oh,” I begin ruffling through my bag, “here,” I pull a blanket from my bag and place it over Joel’s body. The blanket is worn out but it’s more for the comfort of having than it is for warmth. A soft, barely audible ‘thank you’ escapes Joel.

With the man's eyes closed I selfishly stare, taking in his face. Theres more lines than there were before which I expect after 20 years but they’re not where I want them to be. Instead of crow's feet from a smile reaching his eyes he has wrinkles between his brows from having them furrowed too often. In place of smile lines, he has frown lines, lines that tell a story of a resilient man living a hard life. Even with his eyes closed he still holds the face of a hardened man. His hair and facial hair are peppered with grey and even in a world s dirty as this I can’t help but run my hands through it. At first, Joel tenses, a reflex nearly everyone has developed to stay alive. But when his mind reminds him it is the hand of the person whose lap he rests his head in, he relaxes. Joel not only relaxes to post-outbreak Joel but, after a few moments, to pre-outbreak Joel. All the lines and wrinkles in his face soften, he doesn’t look young like you often hear, but he looks calmer. In my lap is a man whose gone through hell and back and is finally letting a couple walls down after decades of hardship, he almost looks relieved. His hair tells me the same thing as his face, caked with dirt and oil and tangled from years of neglect and unrelenting weather, he’s a man who’s been stretched far too thin. I continue running my fingers through his hair during the hours that he sleeps no matter how ‘gross’ it is because the truth is, my fingers are just as covered with the survival of this world. In this musty truck with our unwashed bodies and difficult pasts, things almost feel normal, the birds sing and rise with the sun and I can almost imagine we’re on Joel’s old tattered couch, having stayed up late to watch a movie only to have one of us pass out before the climax.

Unfortunately, the man only sleeps a handful of hours, it’s not even mid-day when he wakes. Although it’s probably the longest he’s slept in a while and the first time he’s woken up peacefully, not in a panic or with an impending task looming over his head. Joel is pulled from his slumber not because he’s well rested but because our minds are never completely at rest, we don’t have time to be so vulnerable for so long. His eyes, still filled with sleep, look for mine immediately, like he knows rationally I’m still here because his head is still in a warm lap but he’s scared that it’s an illusion and he’ll break that illusion when he opens his eyes and doesn’t find mine. When the illusion doesn’t disappear, I speak up, “Morning, southern sunshine.”

“Southern sunshine?”

“Yeah, 'cause you’re from Texas and… you always brighten my day,” I shrug. An amused scoff escapes him while he sits up, blocking me from seeing his face.

“You, my dear, are too sweet for me.”

“Why? Can’t handle it?” I tease.

“Don’t deserve it,” his voice is a little lower with those words, they’re filled with doubt.

“Well, that’s ain’t true. You deserved it then and you deserve it now more than ever. I might not know the horrors that haunt your past in between then and now, but… I know Joel Miller and he’s more deserving of someone's unyielding love and affection more than anyone I’ve ever known.”

He looks over his shoulder at me, face heavy with a mix of disbelief and self-hatred: a look he shouldn’t hold. My brows crease with worry and sadness, I slowly place my hand on his cheek like he’s a scared animal that might run if I move too fast. Instead, he leans into it for a moment before taking my wrist in his hand and pulling my palm to his lips where he kisses me. Still holding my hand between the two of us he gives me a small smile. Not a happy or grateful smile but a doleful one, one that says ‘this can’t continue, we have to keep going, there’s no time for us’. So, silently that's what we do, we get back on the road and continue West.

The remaining drive is relatively quiet, a mix of comfortable and awkward silence, like sometimes we don’t what to do with ourselves regarding the idea or possibility of us. Then it dawns on me, after years of not knowing I’ll (hopefully) get to see Tommy. I’m not sure if I sigh or mumble or if there’s just a shift in the air but Joel turns to me, then back at the road and back at me pensively.

“What’s wrong?”

I take s deep breath, “I’ll get to see Tommy,” my voice is soft like if I say it too decisively I’d jinx it. Joel hums in response.

Holy fucking shit. The outbreak took nearly everything from everyone, but two of my loved ones were still alive and I’m about to be reunited with both of them. People I love unconditionally, that I spent days with together, people I lost for years and grieved, are alive and returning to my life. I’m overwhelmed with conflicting emotions, I’m ecstatic to see them again, I’ve been given a second life with them, and I love them and want them back in my life. My heart is filled with happiness and loves but my chest is heavy with fear. I’m scared, scared of how our relationship has changed, scared of how different the past has changed us, scared to lose them again. My body is hot like it’s overworked with the flood of emotions, and they’re just boiling to the surface. Slow tears reluctantly sting my face.

“Hey hey hey hey hey, what’s going on?” Joel asks confused.

I snap my head towards him with fearful eyes, like a deer looking at the driver that’s about to hit them, “I’m not ready!”

“What do you mean ‘you’re not ready’?”

That question opens the floodgate to the storm that is in my mind.

“I’ve been alone for years. Years! I’m completely independent, I don’t need anyone and I tricked myself into believing that I don’t want anyone. And-and-and we’ve all changed, we’ve all done things we thought impossible for us before, and we’ve all done things that haunt us. What if- what if that’s changed us so much that the person I know from before is dead and someone new is occupying the body I’m familiar with? I want things to be how they were but they’re not going to be and I don’t know what that means. And we’ve lived different lives now that-…”

“Do you hate me?”

Joel interrupts and shocks me, “wha- no, why on earth would you think that?!”

“Well, you seem so worried that things will be so different we won’t be able to be a family like we once were. Yet, here are the two of us…”

Closer than ever.

He doesn’t finish the sentence like he’s unsure of the right words to use. Neither of us explicitly acknowledging what’s between us.

“Things are different. They have to be. We’ve all lost so much, including pieces of our old selves, but, I know that I still love you… and Tommy… but don’t tell him I told you that.”

I laugh at Joel’s brotherly love but my mind raves with how he stopped with me, like adding Tommy was an afterthought.

I didn't realize Joel rested his warm hand on my thigh until he gives it a squeeze, I don’t know how long it’s been there but I welcome the comfort as it calms the sea within me.

“Right…” I take hold of his hand kissing it as I did before and keeping it in my grasp. There are a few moments of silence as Joel allows me to calm down.

“Tommy’s gonna lose his damn mind when he sees you.”

The two of us can’t help but laugh not so much at Joel's comment but at the rarity of it all, what are the odds we would find each other again.

We drive over a small hill, revealing a fenced civilization in the lowland.

“Hooollly shit…” I breathe, “it’s a whole city…”

“Sure is. Guess he didn’t do too bad.”

I let out an incredulous laugh, “they have electricity?”

“Yup.”

“Hot water?” “Mhmm.”

I fall silent in disbelief and overwhelming joy, “I haven’t had a proper shower in… years.” “I can tell,” Joel jokes.

I shove his arm, “watch it southern sunshine, you’re pretty ripe too.”

Joel chuckles.

At the gates we’re asked who we are, Joel explains but they’re still skeptical.

“Just get Tommy,” Joel says.

“Tommy’s busy.”

Joel scoffs, and mumbles a ‘busy my ass’ to himself.

“Alright then get Maria, she’ll have questions anyway.”

“I don-”

“Boy, do you want me to have to explain to her how you refused to get her and made a big fuss outta something that should’ve been finished already?” The man behind the gate disappears, likely to get this Maria.

“Who’s Mari-”

I’m cut off by a woman shouting in a calm yet authoritative voice, “LET HIM IN!”

When my eyes land on the woman I see she's waving us in motioning for the others to open the gates. As we wait for the gate to open, I nod towards the woman, “Maria?”

“Yup.”

“I like her.”

Again Joel chuckles, “You ain’t even met her yet.” “True but I like her, I can feel it.”

“Well, you ain’t wrong. You’ll definitely get on with her,” I smile at Joel’s words while he pauses, “which is what I’m worried about,” he finishes.

Maria gives us a quick motion telling Joel where to park, when the truck's engine stops filling my ears I realize how nervous I am again. Joel grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze, “C’mon don’t you want that shower? You certainly need it.”

He hopes out of the truck before I can berate him. I make my way around the vehicle next to Joel.

“Been a while,” Maria opens.

“Yeah, I know. Trying to stay alive seems to take up most of my time,” he shrugs.

“And you?” she asks me.

“Oh-”

“This-,” Joel attempts to answer but Maria stops him, “I didn’t ask you.”

Joel stops and almost visibly cowers, his head downcast like a kid in trouble.

When my name leaves my lips a look of shock passes over Maria’s face.

“Well I’ll be damned, Tommy might just shit himself.” Joel and I chuckle but mine’s more in confusion. “Y-you know of me?” “Pfft, course I do. You kept these two idiots alive before shit hit the fan.”

At that, I let out a genuine chuckle.

“Tommy’s on patrol so let me get yall settled til then.” She begins walking and we follow.

We were welcomed so fast it goes against everything I’ve come to learn in the last few years. I lean towards Joel whispering, “are they not going to check if we’re infected?” “Generally? Yes, they would. But given that it's me and you? They trust us. Plus last I checked we haven’t been bitten, so what’re you worryin’ for?”

At that, I shrug, it's just instinct to be weary of everyone all the time.

Maria brings us to a house, not a completely run-down house, not a building that will suffice as a shelter for a short period, but an uninhabited home.

“Get cleaned up and by then Tommy should be back. Meet at ours for 3?” Maria asks, although I get the sense she’s not really asking.

Joel nods.

“There are some clothes in the hallway closet, have at em’ wouldn’t make sense for yall to shower and get back into dirty clothes. “

“Thank you, Maria,” I cut in.

“Of course. Can’t wait to see Tommy’s face,” and with that, she turns off the porch and leaves us.

Joel closes the door and begins dropping his things, “go on and shower, just don’t use all the hot water, yeah?”

‘First of all, if I’m getting into a running shower with hot water… not only am I using it all but I might just cause a drought. Second, why don’t you join me?” All confidence I had prior to making the offer is gone and I’m left wondering why the hell I opened my big mouth like that. Joel clears his throat, “I- uh-”

“I didn’t mean- just like- the water is warm and then no one has to fight and water conservation and all that and I-”

I’m too busy babbling to realize that Joel is watching me with an amused smirk before letting out a chuckle that brings me back to earth.

“I know what you meant darlin’, I was gonna say I’d like that.”

“Oh…”

“C’mon we’ve got some warm water and real soap calling our names,” he says while leading the way.

I’m surprised he said yes. I mean throughout our journey here we’ve shared some affectionate moments, even before the outbreak we did. But the Joel I knew then was pretty closed off and pales in comparison to the Joel I met a few months ago. We beat around the bush, never explicitly mentioning what we’re doing or what we may be. I know with his divorce, the loss of Sarah and just who Joel is that he doesn’t come by commitment and intimacy easily. The outbreak has changed us all and for Joel that meant protecting his heart a little more than before in fear of how the world may strip him of what he loves again. So… I don’t push him, I love him however he’ll let me and accept whatever he’s willing to give me because I know the Joel inside his rugged exterior and he’s worth waiting for. I let him lead us upstairs to the bathroom, the calmness and security of the house brings back a domestic Joel that I’ve missed. Joel starts the shower before leaning over me, “Why don’t you get a head start and I’ll go get us some clothes,” then he leans in and kisses my cheek and all I can do is nod in adoration.

While Joel leaves to get us the clothes, I strip off my grimy ones and get into the stream of hot water. I groan escapes my lips as the hot water cascades down my body, already cleaning better than the attempts I’ve made over the years. My muscles yearn for the relaxation and healing that comes with its warmth. The cleanliness of the water makes me aware of how dirty I am and feel. I reach for the bar of soap, lifting it to my nose and smelling the notes of lemon and mint, someone here has worked hard to make these bars. I begin to lather my body in the velvety luxury, the steam of the shower accentuating the soap's scent. I’m so caught up in myself I don’t realize Joel’s returned until he’s joining me in the shower. He presses himself against my back and wraps his arms around my waist. We close our eyes savouring the moment that almost replicates something that could have been before the outbreak. I turn us around so Joel can be in the stream of water. While facing me with his hands on my waist, I take some shampoo in my hands and begin emulsifying it in his hair. I massage his scalp for a while, lifting the stubborn dirt while relaxing him, using my nails I give him some light scratches, refreshing the follicles and gifting the nerves a tingling sensation. A few groans escape him when I reach particular points but this moment is nothing but pure. I drop my hands from his head, keeping them on his shoulders. When Joel tilts his head back into the stream of water I return my hands to the base of his scalp slowly massaging the soapy water from it. Throughout this, his eyes remain closed in blissful indulgence.

When his hair is clean, he turns us around and washes my hair. My arms remain wrapped around his shoulders while his hands make careful movements, his face softens and his eyes remain lovingly trained on my hair. He spends some extra time lathering, just playing with my soaped-up hair. When I tilt my head into the stream of water he kisses my forehead, I open my eyes to find his looking into mine tenderly. We freeze for a moment, both scared to make the next move.

“Tell me I can kiss you,” I whisper.

A corner of his lips quirk upwards, “Anytime darlin’,” he says while leaning in and joining our lips together. The kiss isn’t lewd or filled with sexual tension but filled with fearful love. Love that can appear so quiet but wreaks havoc inside the individual, a cyclone of fear that your love may leave, move on or end up entangled in a worse fate. Love that hurts the beholder with its overwhelming size, that one may bust at the seams at any moment because their body just can’t contain it. We spend time so wrapped up in each other, so much said without a word being spoken, that the water begins to lose its warmth.

“Go get dressed, I’ll finish up and join you,” Joel utters in a hushed tone.

I nod and peck his lips once more before reluctantly leaving him.

In the bedroom, I find warm clothes: sweatpants that aren’t tattered, they still have the soft fluffy cotton on the inside; a large t-shirt that doesn’t have more than the necessary 4 holes; and a woolly cardigan that isn’t holding so much moisture that it’s its own breeding ground for mould and bacteria.

When Joel comes out and dresses, it’s time for us to make our way to Maria and Tommy’s. I’m still nervous, my stomach is twisted in excitement and anxiety. When we arrive on the porch I suddenly feel uplifted. “Wait! You open the door and I’ll stay hidden before revealing myself, don’t tell him anything!”

Joel chuckles, “you really do wanna give the man a heart attack.”

I press myself against the house behind the screen door, Joel knocks and inside we hear his muddled voice, “Who the hell is that?”

Maria doesn’t say anything or if she does we don’t hear it. Then the door opens and a heavy silence drops before Tommy speaks, “Son of a bitch, who let this old fuck in!”

The brothers embrace one another and then I make my way around the door, “If you’re that shocked to see him wait till you realize that I’m here too.”

Tommy's eyes widen, for a split second I think they’ll pop. He, in brotherly fashion, quickly removes himself from Joel and pushes him aside.

“This ain’t real,” he says while standing in front of me.

“I can hit you if you’d like, if not to convince you then for old time's sake?”

“Oh my god,” Tommy says while laughing in disbelief. He tightly wraps his arms around me, when he lets go his hands remain gripping my shoulders looking at me like he had to double-check if things were true.

“Holy shit…”

I laugh and see Maria leaning in the doorway with a smile on her lips, I return the gesture.

“Well… aren’t you going to let us in or keep us out here on the porch like some stays?” I tease.

The evening passes fast, turns out we had a lot of catching up to fit in in the few hours that was dinner. Everyone has a smile on their face and exited disbelief in their eyes. When dinner is finished I get up to help Maria, which she attempts to decline. “Maria, c’mon? You welcomed us, gave me some of the best clothes I’ve worn in years along with a hot shower and filled our stomachs with delicious food. I wasn’t asking.”

My authoritativeness seems to impress and please her as she just gives me a smile and walks into the kitchen.

“We’ll let the boys catch up on whatever it is those two get up to,” Maria yells from the kitchen.

I laugh and join her, “You heard the woman, go on, get!”

The Miller brothers leave to sit outside on the porch while Maria and I fall into easy conversation about ourselves and how we found ourselves in the Miller's lives.

“So how long have you and Joel been together?” “Oh- it’s not- we’re not-”

Maria laughs as I stumble to find the right words, “Okay so Mr. Scared of commitment hasn’t officially labelled it. But, you’re together. So, how long?”

“Oh…uh… I don’t know, we were reunited a few months ago but-”

Maria chuckles, “Oh my dear, you really are blind aren’t you?” “What?”

“I don’t mean when you reunited or when did you guys start being more affectionate or anything like that. I mean, how long have the two of you been in love?” I’m dumbfounded, what does she know that I don’t?

“That man has been in love with you forever. Now I’m not basing this off the fact that he looks at you like he’s afraid to let you go even for a second or the fact that his entire demeanour lightens when he looks at you. Even Tommy knows, he watched you two lovebirds beat around the bush for years I think you referred to you two as ‘a couple of love-sick puppies’. You’ve been in love before the outbreak, yes?” “Yes,” I shyly admit.

“And Joel has loved you for just as long if not longer. You may not see it but it’s true and in this world, we don’t have time to deny ourselves of any love we may have a chance at. Don’t let him believe he can go about this world as a lone wolf forever.”

~~~ JOEL’S POV ~~~

The sun is setting, taking its warmth with it. Tommy and I sit in silence, not because there’s nothing to say but because we’ve got so much to say and don’t know where to start. Both of us sipping our respective drinks. “Can’t believe they’re alive… or that we’ve all been reunited,” Tommy says.

“You and me both.”

“You better not blow this again,” Tommy said while taking a sip from his glass.

“What d’ya mean?”

Tommy scoffs, “You might be my older brother but you really are an idiot. Don’t let them get away again, we don’t normally get second chances in this life. You’ve been handed a second chance on a fucking silver platter. I love you but if you fuck this up?” Tommy finishes with a scoff.

There’s a heavy silence for a few moments before Tommy presses on.

“You love them.”

“Is that supposed to be a question?” “No, you do love them. I ain’t asking. I want you to accept it and, for the love of god, admit it.”

“ I don’t kn-” “Oh cut the shit, Joel. You’ve been in love for years, before this damn virus. I watched the two of you act like a damn couple but then have these moments of… weird, awkwardness as if you’ve just realized what you’ve done and are like ‘oh yeah we’re not actually together better backtrack a bit’. I mean for fucks sake just admit it, tell them, be together.”

I sigh. I know I love them and that I’m in love with them, but admitting it opens me to the possibility of losing them and I’ve lost too many to want to open myself to that hurt again. But he’s right, I’ve been given another chance. The apocalypse separated us and has nearly liked us dozens of times but then we were accidentally reunited. I’ve spent months with them, sharing close proximity and moments of loving affection. How can I be so stupid, in closing myself off I nearly lost them while trying to avoid just that.

“Fuck…” I murmur.

“Go on, go get them.”

I quickly get up, entering the house with urgency.

~~~ YOUR POV ~~~

The front door opens with a sense of urgency. Maria and I turn towards the sound and heavy boots bring Joel in.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Can I uh, steal them?” Joel asks Maria.

She smiles and pops a hip out, leaning against the counter, “it’s about time,” Maria nods me towards him.

I join him and while we’re leaving out the front door Tommy enters the house, giving his brother a pat on the shoulder. Joel has a nervous air around him and he grabs my arm and urgently takes me onto the porch. When the door closes I speak out.

“Joel what the hell are you-”

I stopped when Joel grabs my face in his hands and kisses me. This kiss is urgent, filled with a passion of gratitude and unease. When we release Joel doesn’t pull away far.

“Joel what-”

“I need you to know something,” he interrupts quickly, he takes a breath and continues in a slower calmer manner, “I’ve spent so much time with you, shared so many memories with you, and you might not be my love but honestly? I doubt it. I love you. I’ve always loved you, you’re my family and I’m no longer going to push you away in fear of losing you because I’ll lose you by doing that. I’d rather fear losing you, having loved you rather than losing you anyways and wondering what could have been.”

“Oh Joel,” I say with a soft sigh, “You think I would have agreed to get in the damn pick-up with you with nothing but what was on us and some dumb luck if I didn’t love you?”

Joel smiles, “Hey, do you want to explore the west with me?” he ends by motioning between us and with a teasing tone.

“I’ve spent a lot of time without love and a lot of time with you, and there’s nothing I’d like more than to explore the two together.”

We share a small kiss, “it only took an apocalypse for us to get together,” I laugh.

“That might be true but I’m happy we got here.”

“Me too… We don’t actually have to go West, right? Like that was a metaphor,”

Joel laughs at me, “Yeah baby, I mean I’m happy as long as we’re together but if you don’t want to stay-”

“No, no. I want to stay. We’re staying.” “Good.”

We watch the last bit of the sunset in each other's arms. We don’t know what tomorrow holds but we’ll figure that out and we’ll do it together.

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72 notes · View notes

hpowellsmith · 9 months

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Hi, I was wondering... since in Honor bound MC and ROs are of a certain age is there a reason why they're still single? Like, it's totally fine if someone didn't want or did relationships in their youth or haven't met the right person yet but did any of the ROs or MC canonically have someone at one point? (Apart from our employer's daughter that is).

Ooooh. Now this is really interesting!

It's something that will come up ingame so it's behind the cut for those who want to go in without knowing anything:

None of them have had serious relationships in the immediately recent past.

Fiore (age 35): got together with their spouse Jaime young, when they were about twenty, and then they had Catarina when they were 21. After they divorced when Catarina was 8, Fiore was very focused on juggling caring for her and on their work. They co-parented with Jaime for about two years before Jaime's death, though Jaime was less present and their parenting was less stable/reliable than Fiore's. Fiore has dated people a bit, mostly people whom their friends introduced them to, or meeting people they've worked with for coffee dates, that sort of thing. But although some of them have been nice times, they haven't gotten really serious. There are a lot of reasons for this, much of which are in Fiore's head (they have a bunch of stuff going on about what they do and don't "deserve", and there are some other big aspects of their past which they don't feel comfortable opening up about. yet!). If they think about it, it's with a bit of wistfulness and a hope that it might be possible one day, when things align.

Korzha (age 41): is someone who is very "married to their work" and in being so, keeps a lot of distance between their personal life and their work life... but doesn't have a huge social life outside of work. Some of this is intentional from their side, some of it is a habit they've fallen into. They did date more when they were younger, and ended up in a pretty serious relationship in the workplace that went wrong somehow. Maybe it imploded, maybe there was drama, maybe they didn't treat each other well. Either way they went "no, things are going to be different from now on". And broadly, generally, they are content with that. They get a lot of satisfaction from their work and do prefer to keep their distance emotionally from those around them... and for some people that suits them very nicely but for Korzha sometimes it really doesn't. They had a horrible example of romantic relationships in the shape of their parents, and want to avoid repeating their patterns. If they think about it, they probably think that they might find someone suitable when they're assigned somewhere else - Ozera is so small that they don't think it would be possible to date comfortably.

Matia (age 44): if they were a sailor they would be "married to the sea" but... they're not. Maybe "married to the wilderness", lol. They've travelled around a LOT for most of their life and it's only in the last ten years that they've settled in one place. Which isn't to say that they haven't had longstanding relationships: I can absolutely see them having long-term friends-with-benefits situations where they would consider themself very close with and trusting towards the other person, but wouldn't necessarily call it "a romantic arrangement", as well as ones that have ended badly. They haven't been in a situation where they want to move in with someone, for example, and they'd see a romantic relationship as including markers like that - partly because of seeing their parents, who have had a very long and generally sweet/chill romantic marriage. After moving back to Elene's Prospect, they haven't really dated people in the town because of all the scrutiny all that gets. They do sometimes go to the neighbouring city to enjoy some hedonism; they may have had a fling with a previous teacher at Ozera; but in general they haven't had a recent "romantic, serious" relationship and are not expecting or actively looking for that at this stage.

Raffi (age 25): has had a lot of no-strings attachments with people they know, which has sometimes caused drama and has sometimes been fine, and Raffi hasn't totally figured out ways of pushing it towards the "fine" end of the spectrum. They have also had some friends-with-benefits situations but more often it has been less emotionally close. They have been in situations where they've been given lavish gifts and hung out with very wealthy people while sort-of-not-really dating them, but although they did enjoy that and found it fun, what they would really like is to be with someone who treats them like they're the most important person in the room; they believe there is someone out there who will, it's just that they haven't found them yet. Still, though they find the thought of that exciting, they're aware that they're young in the grand scheme of things and they haven't been in a huge rush to settle down.

Savarel (age 28): went on some very sweet, chill dates as a teenager with friends from school, and I can totally see their parents, aunts and uncles (their family is very, very large and sprawling) trying to set them up with kids or cousins of their friends when they come home on leave. Which Savarel would have gone on and probably enjoyed - maybe not always having a fantastic time, but sometimes! They would probably have had some romantic encounters, mostly with their own friends at some points, especially in their early to mid 20s. But as they've got older, they've done that less and less, especially in the last couple of years. Currently they don't really place themself and romantic relationships in the same sentence; if they think of it at all, they probably think "that simply isn't something that's going to happen" - not because they don't want it. But because the world, and they, are not in a state where it could happen. And they are in a mental place where they do not feel at all comfortable with wanting things let alone having them.

#asks #honor bound #fiore roldan #varenn korzha #matia frasada #raffi claudian #savarel lopes #honor bound spoilers #choice of games #interactive fiction

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abubblingcandle · 3 months

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For the wip wednesday thing: arm, smile, laugh

Smile - from Make Me Fret or Make Me Frown

Every hour there was new news. Cartrick had been fired from both West Ham and Sky Sports. Williams, the defender who had elbowed Jamie had been handed a four month ban from the beginning of the next season and it was being suggested that interim manager Disco was terminating his contract anyway. No one should pick up a player who had deliberately concussed another player to get him out of the game. And Rupert. West Ham had been landed with a massive fine and a likely massive points deduction at the beginning of the season. His house was being trashed by furious West Ham and Richmond fans working together. Rebecca said that Bex reported that this was the last straw and she was divorcing him and was going to try and take the club in the settlement just like Rebecca had along with everything else should grab. Most of the club was in her name anyway. People, including Rupert, seemed to have forgotten that Bex was Jamie’s friend before she was Rupert’s wife. Yet Roy still couldn’t find it in him to smile. It was delightful to see Rupert implode his own life and to see him have to deal with the consequences of his own hubris. He just wished Jamie wasn’t suffering because of it.

Laugh - from Snap

"I thought you'd be with Jane. She seemed sad to miss the funeral," Jamie muttered, trying the school his expression away from his distaste of Jane. He was not doing a good job of it but Beard was distracted enough with what ever was going through his mind to not notice. "She's away. If you hadn't have called I'd probably have just been at the flat," Beard was subdued. Since when had Jamie been able to read Beard's moods? What was the world coming to? "You’re welcome then mate," Jamie grinned and puffed out his chest when Beard huffed a laugh.

Arm - from Roll Call

“Sam!” Colin exclaimed when he finally was directed to the corner of A&E where Sam was being treated. All the beds were full. There were beds just in the middle of corridors. It seemed like Dani had got one of the few rooms that were available and Colin thanked god that he had the money to drop to get him to keep it. Maybe he could use that as team base Richmond. Because thankfully Sam didn’t look like he needed a bed. He definitely needed the treatment the nurse was giving him though. “Your arm!”

#candle writes #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt #roy kent #colin hughes #sam obisanya #willis beard #roll call tag #snap tag

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middleearthpixie · 11 months

Text

Better Days ~ Chapter Twelve

Summary: Frerin Durin had the perfect life, until he found out his wife was cheating on him. Now, he’s navigating uncharted territory as an about-to-be divorced single dad. Dating is a mess, he’s dealing with the fallout where his kids are concerned, and really, he would just love a vacation away from all of it.

Elena Madison is new to Sidleburg, and also navigating life as a newly single parent. The last thing she needed was for her daughter to come down sick, when she hasn’t even had time to unpack the moving boxes, never mind find a pediatrician. And the last thing she ever expected was to meet a man like Dr. Frerin Durin…

Neither Elena nor Frerin were looking for anything, but fate has a way of messing up even the best laid plans. However, both have been hurt and both aren't at all sure they trust themselves, never mind trusting someone else...

Pairings: Modern!Frerin x ofc Elena Madison

Characters: Elena, Dave Lesser, Frerin, Thorin

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.5k

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorisooyaa @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @buckybarnes-thorin @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @albionscastle @absentmindeduniverse @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @sazzlep @court-jobi @masterofhounds

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

Pod 7-B had fifth period lunch, and that gave Elena a chance to go through the topic proposals her morning classes submitted. All in all, they weren’t too bad and she had the feeling she’d be in for some fairly decent reading after the holidays. She smiled as she read the last one in which Christina Figuroa outlined a paper on Jockey Hollow, the Morristown encampment where George Washington’s Continental Army spent the winter of 1779-1780. It was only about forty minutes from Sidleburg, and in her outline, Christina mentioned she wanted to visit the site as well. She had a soft spot for the American Revolution and as they discussed that time period, Christina wowed both Elena and her fellow students with what she knew about it.

As she set down the paper, she glanced at her phone, lying on her desk. She was still a bit down about Frerin’s cancelling their date, and she kind of hoped he’d call when he got off shift, since he said he would when things slowed down for him. He would’ve been off by six that morning and she still hadn’t heard from him by noon and while she had no right to be down about it, she still was. What if work was just the excuse and the truth was he really just wasn't that into her? After all, she had a spectacular track record, including one imploded marriage, of guys who just weren’t that into her.

She winced, setting down Christina’s outline. She hadn’t wanted to think Frerin was that type of guy, but at the same time, her judge of character wasn't the greatest, either. The trouble was, she tended to see the men she wanted them to be, and not the ones they actually were, and it always led to trouble.

“You busy?”

She looked up at David Lesser in her doorway. “No, actually. I’m not. Why?”

“No reason. Free period. Not much to catch up on. So,” he came into the classroom and sank into the desk in front of hers, “I thought I’d come in and see how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine. You?”

“Good.” He folded his hands, pointing at her as he said, “You look like you could use a pick me up. Want to go grab coffee before the bell rings?”

She glanced up at the clock over the door. “Dave, we have ten minutes before sixth period. Not nearly enough time.”

“How about after school then?”

She smiled was she shook her head. “I can’t. I have to get home. Lyssa’s leaving for her grandparents in a few days and I still have Christmas shopping to finish.”

“I’ll come with. The mall is always more bearable with a friend.”

“No, that’s not a good idea.”

“Why? Maybe we can grab dinner while we’re there.”

“Well, the truth is,” she hesitated, wondering if her next words were actually a lie, “I’m kind of seeing someone right now.”

“Oh.” He sat back, his eyes wide. “I didn't know. Someone new?”

“Yeah. I—uh—I met him the night I took Lyssa to the ER.”

“Patient?”

“Doctor. He’s a pediatrician.”

“Oh, well, a lowly English teacher can hardly compete with a doctor now, can he?”

“Dave, it… it wouldn’t be a good idea anyway. Work relationships have a way of getting very complicated.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Still,” he smiled, “if things with the doctor don't work out..”

“You’ll be the first one I call.”

“Good.”

Her phone rang then and when she turned it over, and saw Frerin’s number, she smiled. “Speak of the devil.”

David got to his feet. “I can take a hint. I’ll see you later, Elena.”

“See you later.” She picked up the phone. “Good afternoon, Dr. Durin.”

A sheepish laugh caressed her ear. “I know, I know. I was supposed to call way before this, but my night never stopped. I don't know if there was a full moon or what, but I ran like a fool until six this morning between the Pedes unit and the ER. I came home after dropping Jake at school and fell asleep for a couple hours and now, here I am, throwing myself on my proverbial sword so you won’t be too pissed at me.”

“I’m not pissed at all. Why would I be?”

“Because I stood you up.”

“You had to work. It happens.”

“Yeah, well,” something rustled in the background and he let out a small sigh before adding, “hopefully it won’t last for much longer. I’m getting too old for this.”

“Maybe it’s time to think about leaving the hospital.”

“You know, I have thought about it, but I’d be lost.”

“Then, I guess you need to stock up on the caffeine.”

“Yeah, I knew you’d be sympathetic.” A low laugh rumbled toward her. “I’ll make dinner up to you, I promise. I just don’t know when yet. I’m on tonight and then I’m off for the next four days. I have my kids for Christmas Eve, but they’ll be with their mother for Christmas Day and the day after. You said your daughter is spending the holiday with her grandparents, right?”

“Yeah. She has an eight o’clock flight, which means we’ll be at the airport by about four. She was supposed to spend the week with her dad, but once he found out she was sick, he and his sidepiece lit out for the islands instead. That’s when his mom stepped up and invited Lyssa instead.” She sighed softy as the bell rang. “It’s amazing, how far this apple fell from the tree where Dan’s family’s concerned. They are awesome and he is… not…”

“Yeah, I know that feeling. Although, my ex’s parents are not exactly what I’d call awesome. Anyway, if you’ll be around Christmas, why don’t I make us dinner?”

She smiled. “I thought you were going to your brother’s?”

“I usually do, but by about two or three I’ll have had enough of being around family, so what do you say? I’m not the fanciest chef out there, but I do okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Another low laugh rumbled forth. “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn't sure. I mean, unless you’ve made other plans.”

“I haven’t, so dinner sounds wonderful. And now, I’ve got to go because the second bell rang and my sixth period kids are giving me the same stink eye I give them when the second bell rings and they’re on their phones.”

“Yeah, I have enough time to hit the gym before work. I’ll see you on Thursday, say six-ish?”

“Six-ish sounds fine.”

“Good. I’ll see you then.”

“Bye, Frerin.” She clicked off and opened her top desk drawer to stow the phone in her purse and then looked up. “Good afternoon, everyone. You all look as if you’re ready for Winter Break.”

“Oh, god, am I ever,” Renata Gibbons said, smiling as the rest of the class chuckled.

“I know, I am, too. But,” Elena rose to skirt her desk. “We still have today and tomorrow and I know not much will get done tomorrow, so we have to make the most of today.”

She moved to the table alongside her desk, where her district issued laptop sat open. “Since we’re wrapping up our unit on the American Revolution, I thought you might like a little break from writing and researching and since we did the library on Friday, we have a bit of free time. So, I thought we could watch 1776, which was a Broadway show back in the late nineteen-sixties, adapted to film in nineteen-seventy-one and released in ninteen-seventy-two. It’s the retelling of the adoption of the Declaration of Independence and I think you’ll like it.”

With that, she clicked a few keys and the screen mounted above one of the chalkboards glowed to life. She moved to switch off the lights, waited for a few objections—which never came—then settled down in the empty desk alongside Gene Smedley’s and let herself get lost in the movie.

****

Frerin set his bag down next to the bench Thorin had claimed. “Mind if I work in with you?”

“Do I ever?” Thorin asked from where he stood at the squat rack, pulling two forty-five pound plates from their pegs. “You’re later than usual.”

“Yeah. I worked a double, got in at about seven this morning, got the kids off to school, fell asleep until about noon, and now, I’m due back at the hospital for six.”

“A double? I thought you were in charge, man?”

Frerin crouched to pull a water bottle free from his bag. “We’re shorthanded, just like everywhere else. And I step up when they need me. Although, I have to admit, I never thought I’d spend more time in the ER than Pedes. Maybe I missed my calling and chose the wrong specialty.”

Thorin came back to set one plate on the floor and threaded the second one on the bar, then picked up the first one to move to the opposite side of the bench. “So, I’m guessing no more dates with your gym bunny?”

“Elena? Not yet.” He stood, twisting the cap off the battle. “We were supposed to go out last night, but I got stuck with the double shift, so I had to cancel.”

“Damn.” The second plate went on the bar. “I’m sorry. That sucks.”

“She understood, and we’re getting together Thursday, so there’s that.”

Thorin paused, arching one brow. “Christmas?”

“Her daughter’s spending the week with her grandparents. My kids’ll be with Toni. We’re both off. It works out.”

“You bringing her to the house? I’ll let Leda know.”

“No, I thought that might be weird.” Frerin took a sip of water, then lowered the bottle as Thorin added five pound plates, then stretched out on the bench. “We haven’t even gone out yet. I can’t bring her to a family thing before an actual date.”

“You know Leda won’t care. Dís won’t care. I don't care.”

“Yeah, but I do care and I think Elena might as well. I think family things are waiting for now. Besides,” he crouched to set the bottle down and moved behind the bench and into spotting position, “if it goes well, I should probably introduce her to the kids before anyone else.”

“True. I didn't think of that.”

“It’s weird territory to be navigating, Thorin. I don’t really have a clue what I’m doing.”

“You’ll figure it out. You’re the smart one, remember?” Thorin lifted the bar from its rest and with a soft grunt, lowered then pushed it back up.

“I don't know about that.” He brought his hands down below the bar as Thorin lowered it again. “If I was the smart one, I’d have waited to get married and not done it at nineteen.”

“What?”

He sighed as Thorin set the bar back on its rests. “Thorin, I didn't necessarily want to get married, man. I was nineteen years old. I mean, I love my kids, but I wasn't ready to be a father at nineteen, either. And now, here I am. Thirty-six years old and trying to start over while I’m working insane hours to boot.”

“Look,” Thorin sat up, resting a hand on his inner thigh as he looked up, “you tried to do the right thing at the time and man, you’ve got great kids, you know.”

“I know. I know I do. But…” Frerin sighed, crouching once more. “I haven’t dated anyone in almost twenty years. I’ve gone out on a single date here and there, but I like this woman.”

“That’s a good thing, jackass.”

“Yeah, I know it is and it’s terrifying.” An image of Elena stride him in his car flashed through his mind, heating his blood in the process. “I don't want to fuck this up, too, Thorin.”

“Look,” Thorin reached for his own water and unscrewed the cap from the bottle, “just relax. Let things happen as they happen. She knows you’re still in the process of getting divorced. She’s been through it herself, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, she knows. The two of you just have fun. You never know what could happen and enjoy it. That’s how I found Leda, remember? She had all these rules and in the end, we broke ’em all one by one, and now look where we are. So, don’t put any more pressure on yourself than you absolutely have to, man. It’ll work out the way it’s supposed to.”

“I hope so. The last thing I want to do is move too fast with Elena or too slow with her, and honestly? She’s all I can think about right now and that hasn’t happened in a long time.”

“Enjoy it.” Thorin grinned. “The sex’ll be explosive when you finally have it with her.”

“No doubt,” he chuckled, straightening up once more to move back to the head of the bench. “I’m looking forward to that. You know when the last time I had sex was?”

“Do I want to know?”

“It’s been over year.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No.” Frerin couldn't hold back his laugh at horror both in Thorin’s words and expression. “It’ll really impress Elena when I come fifteen seconds into it. She’ll thank the gods for making her a woman, for sure.”

“I do not need to hear this.” Thorin lay back down on the bench. “Can’t we talk about football or hockey or something?”

“Sure. You want my tickets for Sunday? They’re playing Green Bay.”

“I wish. Leda’s not ready to leave the kids with a sitter yet. Why don't you and one of your kids go?”

“Flynn’s working, Maura won’t sit in the cold, and Jake has no interest in football. You think Leda will let you out?”

“Sure. I’ll freeze my ass off with you. Unless you decide to ask Elena to go with you. Does she like football?”

“I don't know. I’ll ask when I see her on Christmas.”

“What’re you getting her?”

“What?”

“Frer, it’s Christmas. You can’t just show up at her place empty-handed.”

“I’m not going there. She’s coming to the house. I told her I’d make dinner to make up for standing her up last night.”

Thorin grinned as he set the bar back on its rest. “Nice. A whole house to yourselves. You can christen every room if you want.”

“Is that all you can think about?”

“Frer, you haven’t gotten laid in over a year. I’m shocked you can think about anything else.”

“I’ve been a little busy with the mess that is my life, but I have great hopes the dry spell will end soon.”

“Yeah, but you still need to get her something. Even if it’s something small. What time’s your shift?”

“Six.”

“Let me hit the showers and we’ll hit the mall. I have to keep you from fucking this up as well.”

#Gerard Butler #Frerin Durin #Frerin x OC #AU #Frerin Fic #Is it hot in here?#Romance #Modern AU #ER AU #Hospital AU #Richard Armitage #The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Hobbit Fic #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction

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