#like fo ol...

[ssreeder]

waaaAAAHHHH sreedie I’m so fucking pumped for this chapter you have no IDEA

jee out here crushing rasu’s hopes and dreams like the perfect grumpy uncle he is <3

rasu is the emotional fallout catcher and I love him for that

wheezing that katara’s most pressing concern when seeing zuko for the first time is THIS BITCH HAS HAIR??

zuko please why is your fight or flight response fucked up enough to become fight or insult the person trying to help you.

oh shit wait does zuko think katara is sokka???

yeah zuko definitely thinks she’s sokka lmao it’s giving major head injury

ugh NO just let sokka see zuko I hate it here

BUT ALSO!!! big win that iroh can tell the boys that zhao is dead at some point (it better be sooner rather than later, right sreedie??)

AT LEAST AZULA ISNT IN BA SING SE it’s the little victories lads, the itsy bitsy ones

also can sokka PLEASE tell SOMEBODY about the bending suppressants I’m like super concerned about that

aaaaaang not the yue bomb T-T

dude. the fact that aang has suffered so much loss- I can’t anymore

BATO T-T not zuko’s “glowing personality”

god I love chang he takes No shit whatsoever

I’m sorry but bato saying ara “had some issues” is such an understatement, why does this man have such a comedic thought process. he really said I do not want to touch This with a 10ft pole

LMAO pls it would be so funny if bato did end up kissing chang (especially if it’s accidental)

loving bato in his damage control era

CHANG “now that things are awkward I’m gonna go” T-T my guy said TOODLES

ah yes, return of the penis fingers trauma from the good old days <3

HES AWAKE and immediately making innuendoes

trust that jet decides to expose sokka while on his deathbed I shouldn’t have expected any less from him

AZULA

I love mai <33333333

sreedie WHO has been leaving you negative comments and WHERE can I find them (not bc I wanna defend you or anything haha not like I still care about you even though we’re divorced haha I HATE you actually)

anyways I’ve been ROBBED???!?!? wHere was my zukka reunion >:(((

sreedie it better be soon bc I’m losing my whole mind… but yes very very vibrating-out-of-my-seat about the potential of a zuko and chang reunion too :3 (if you kill chang I will throw a rock through your window and smash all your lightbulbs)

LOVE HATE YOU HEAPS <3

LEEEEEKKKKIIIIIEEEEE

the time has come I release your ask into the void and am no longer able to stare at it and giggle when I see all your silly but so satisfying words. (I’m sorry this one is so much later than the rest my life is enjoying kicking me around and I’m too tired to fight back)

Ok sooo…. I love/hate you let’s DO THIS!

I feel like Zukos hair was more important than his redemption arc so yes it must be acknowledged by everyone almost immediately haha.

I hate it here too leekie let’s move fuck the ending of this fic let’s do a new one

I think I just heard leekie is a Chang/bato shipper but it’s a trouple because lyns there so it’s a real party whoop whoop!

Zukka reunion is coming, its just probably…. Not….. next……. Chaoter………. Sorrrrrryyyy but SOON

I swear soon

Love ya

#I promise I’m trying to reunite them #& seriously it’s been like two days #since arriving at BSS #can you believe that shit?! #why do I do this to myself #I just wanna dove so deep into teauma and thoughts and ughhhhh #so annoying #I hate it here leekie let’s leave #anyway no one’s being mean to me #I’m just sick of the random comments here and there with ‘feedback’ #like nahhhhh dude didn’t ask for it #this is FO FREE #F R E E E E E E #so chill #we all ar e just trying to have a good ol time #anyway leeks #you’re my fave #leekie tag #I miss you #come say hi soon #liab #ITF #ask

[butchdykekondraki]

are you guys planning on hosting a raffle for 200 followers? :)

no we dont see the point t b h

#number one ever #like ....... u can . ask for something fo r free.. whatz the point of entering a contest when you get the same things you'd usually get- #-just with the good ol title of slapped on #it sounds ridiculous 2 me #[martini]

[moon-rivr]

So like what if. WHAT IF. Miguel ends up lusting after a new recruit. BUT she's a tatted up goth girl with an intimidating aura. He wants to screw her with every fiber in him. COULD YOU IMAGINE. BIG OL MIGGY WANTING TO GO AFTER HER. can you make this into a fic. Please. I'm foaming at the mouth. I love your work ❤

the girl with the tattoo

pairing: miguel o’hara x spiderwoman reader

warnings: masturbating (m), stalking(?), fingering, protected p in v, doggy, use of toy, overall smut 🫡

author’s note: thank so much for this request and i’m sorry it took me so long 😭 i hope you enjoy <33

word count: 4.1k

Your life as the spider-woman from your dimension was fulfilling, but it felt empty sometimes. You couldn't maintain any friendships because of how busy your schedule was, as a physicist and having to save the city. You'd lost your boyfriend a couple months back after a brutal fight with the Green Goblin, and you couldn't bring yourself to date anyone else again just yet. So when Hobie, the guy with the cool piercings on his face and same powers as you, recruited you to the Spider Society, you couldn't help but be enchanted by the idea. 

Miguel had spent a couple minutes staring into the monitors when you walked in through that portal with Hobie, ignoring LYLA giving him the debrief about their latest mission. He was captivated by everything about you: by the tattoos on your arms and legs, the ink running through your skin perfectly to make these tiny shapes to the exaggerated eye liner you had on. "MIGUEL!" LYLA yelled, snapping him out of his thoughts as he turned around to look at his assistant. "The new recruit's here, try not to drool so much on the way over," she said with a small giggle before disappearing. Miguel rolled his eyes as he got off the platform, rubbing the side of his lip just in case he actually was drooling.

You were in the middle of talking to Hobie, getting the introduction around the place (mostly just to avoid Miguel at all costs), when you felt someone behind you. "Who's this?" You heard someone ask, turning around to see a very tall man standing in front of you. Hobie appeared unfazed as he shrugged, crossing his arms as he looked up at the man. "Is the new recruit. Started to show her around 'fo you showed up," he responded and you couldn't help but feel the man's stare boring into you. "What did I say about bringing it new recruits?" the man hissed out, rubbing his temples as he asked. "Not to bring 'em. She's talented though, you just need to see her in action," he responded, before leaving the two of you alone.

You looked over at the man, stating your name and extending your hand out as you noticed his gaze go from the tattoo on your upper arm to your hand. "Miguel," he simply stated, shaking your hand as gently as he could, his large fingers engulfing yours. You looked around to see some of the other members in the society staring at you two, their gaze diverting when they saw you returning their stare. "Do you plan on saying something or do you just plan on looking like a scary vampire?" You asked after a couple seconds of silence from Miguel’s end, watching as his brows furrow, his gaze averting from yours. You could've sworn from the descriptions that Hobie gave you that he would've turned out to be more of an ass, but the man just looked plain intimidated.

You walk into the 'design room' as Miguel called it, where he would be designing your suit and making it. You looked up to see a couple examples on the wall and you couldn't help but feel a bit impressed at just how versatile he was with the suits. You took off the black sweater you had on, leaving you in a tee and skirt. If you would've looked closer, you would've noticed Miguel staring at your breasts, his gaze darkening as he saw the metal bar poking through. However, your attention was directed at LYLA as she asked you a bunch of questions about what type of design you were looking for and the material that you wanted.

"No, no spandex," Miguel spoke up after a while, the two of you turning to look at him. "And why not?" You asked, folding your arms as your brows furrowed. Because he was pretty sure his cock wouldn't survive it. "It's just a really restrictive material, really, you'll be able to move a lot more freely with the holographic suit," he replied, his gaze averting yours so you wouldn't catch on to his lie. You turned to look at LYLA, shrugging as you tell her to use the holographic material for the black suit you had in mind.

Miguel felt his cock strain underneath his suit with every passing moment in that room, watching as LYLA took your measurements. Everything about you was just captivating to him, from the numerous amount of tattoos on your body to the damn nipple piercings that would invade his waking thoughts from now on. He was fascinated by the intricate designs of your tattoos, all seeming to have their own special meaning. He wanted to ask you about them, what they all meant and symbolized to you, but he got the impression that you didn't like him all that much. He opened up his gizmo when he felt you turn around, not wanting to get caught staring as he typed a random message to Peter, asking him to join for lunch.

Somehow, the fact that you didn't like him turned him on even more. He was used to women throwing themselves at him and begging at his feet, but he never had the instance where he was the one being intimidated. He watched as LYLA handed you the gizmo, explaining how to use it and how to turn your suit on. His gaze travelled down your body as you turned on the suit, the material wrapping around your curves perfectly. Shock, he really couldn't catch a break. He bit down on his hand to prevent himself from saying something embarrassing, feeling his cock tighten up even more in his suit. You turned around and looked at Miguel, a pleased smile on your face after looking at yourself in the mirror. "What do you think, boss?" You asked, noticing that his eyes just wouldn't meet yours. "It looks decent," he muttered, getting up abruptly and stepping out of the room. "Rude," you muttered, wondering why you'd even bothered to ask him.

Miguel went back to his office, ignoring all the other Spiders who greeted him. He felt his cock straining painfully underneath his suit, his hand gently rubbing against it. He turned off LYLA's access to his office for the time being and turned the monitors to analyze the cameras for the room that you were in. He saw LYLA making some modifications to your suit, the holographic material hugging your ass perfectly. He let out a quiet "fuck" and deactivated his suit, his hardening cock hitting the side of his stomach.

He spread his legs on the chair, rubbing the precum that was spilling out of his red tip around his cock, using it as lube. He started off slow, tentative, as he wrapped his hand tightly around his cock. He knew that you would feel a thousand times better than this, that your cunt would feel like heaven to him, but he was too turned on to think properly. He gripped his desk as he started speeding up, his hips bucking up into his hand to find some pressure. His eyes zeroed in on your chest once more and he let out a pathetic whimper, wondering how it would feel to see his cum lathered on top of the piercings.

He tightened his grip around his cock, like he wanted to imitate how tight your cunt would feel around him, but a nagging voice in his mind told him that it wouldn't compare. He pushed that voice out of his head in a desperation to cum, to go back to focusing on his work. He heard his watch going off and remembered he was supposed to be giving a brief on a plan to catch an anomaly, but he knew that if he stopped now, he'd just show up with a hard cock and a bitter attitude. He swirled his thumb around the tip, letting out a soft groan as he pictured you underneath him, licking and sucking him off. How pretty you would look with that eyeliner running down your cheeks, crying just from how big he was. He gripped the side of the table tightly, feeling his balls starting to tighten up.

His hips bucked up into his hand at an embarrassing speed, eager for that feeling of release. He tightened the grip around his cock, moving his hand faster as he let out a soft moan, his orgasm quickly approaching. He watched as you smiled through the monitors, thanking LYLA for the work she'd done and his orgasm washed over him like a tide. He looked down at the mess he'd created, shaking his head in disbelief as he grabbed a napkin from the desk. He cleaned his hand off along with his thigh, putting on some hand sanitizer. He had expected to feel some sort of relief, but he still found the need to have you underneath him overwhelming. He activated his suit once more and calmed down his breathing before walking over to the briefing room.

He felt ashamed as he walked inside, all the eyes in the room looking at him. to think that they were all in here waiting for him while he was in his office fucking his fist to the thought of having your cunt wrapped around his cock. He coughed, pushing those thoughts aside before he got a hard-on in front of his colleagues as he started to give everyone their reports. He ignored the complaining some of the members had, rubbing his forehead as he stayed behind. Jess looked back at him worriedly, but he shrugged her off, saying that he was fine. Which was relatively true, he had no reason to be upset, just the fact that he'd grown attracted to you and didn't know how to go about his feelings.

He spent a while in his office as thoughts of you crept in his mind, most of them were lewd but some of them were a bit more wholesome. He pushed those thoughts off as he bounced a ball, turning LYLA's access to his office back on when he heard a knock on the door. He opened up the door, seeing Peter standing there with Mayday crawling on his shoulders. Ah right, the lunch.

"So imagine my surprise when my best friend finally invited me to lunch," Peter began speaking as they walked down the hallways, his slippers squeaking against the floor. He wanted to toss those slippers away, wanted to tell Peter that he only did it because he didn't want to get caught, but he didn't have the heart to do that today. He, however, did have the heart to ignore the man as he talked and started to play peek-a-boo with Mayday. He felt a ghost of his smile on his lips when he heard Mayday's giggles echo through the room, catching her when she fell off Peter's shoulders.

Peter had settled on getting the 2099 meal, a burger with Miguel’s mask on there along with some fries and a drink. Miguel rolled his eyes as he sat down in front of Peter, his eyes darting towards the burger as he took a bite out of his empanada. "Capitalism," he muttered, shaking his head as Peter took a bite out of the burger. "Okay, so maybe it's overpriced for 20.99 but it's so cute. You truly win at life when you have a burger with your face on it," Peter spoke up, watching as Miguel’s eyebrow twitched a bit. Miguel stood up, partly because he didn't want to see that stupid burger anymore, but mostly because he realized he forgot to get a kid seat for Mayday. He put her on the seat, giving her small pieces of his empanada. Even though most of the crumbs ended up on her cheek and some in her hair, Miguel couldn't help but feel a bit happy when he saw her take bites out of it.

The lunch hadn't gone too bad, most of it was just spent with him feeding Mayday small pieces from his empanada while Peter talked. That was, until he heard your voice. He turned around to see you walk into the cafeteria with Hobie, carefree as you laughed at something he'd said. He saw Peter's eyes brighten up as he waved at you, shaking his head. He wasn't sure why he was so jealous of a man in a bathrobe, maybe it was because he wanted you to wave at him that way. To acknowledge his existence as something more than just an overbearing presence, to smile at him the way you did to others.

"Have you gotten a chance to talk to the new recruit yet?" Peter asked, snapping Miguel��s attention away from Mayday as he turned to look at him. "Uh yeah, we've ran into each other a few times. You?" Miguel responded, trying to keep his tone light and conversational so he'd get more information out of Peter. "I mean, yeah, she's a little intimidating and all with all those tattoos, But she's nice once you get to know her," peter replied, shrugging a bit as he spoke of you. Fuck, how Miguel wanted the opportunity to get to know you.

Over the course of a few days, he kept hearing about the other Spiders talking about you. He listened to the way that they spoke highly about you, how nice you were once those barriers were put down. He couldn't help but feel a sting of jealousy that he was the only one you hadn't made an attempt to get to know, that you regarded everyone with a smile and a wave and regarded him with a roll of your eyes, like his sole existence plagued you. He had resisted at first, not wanting to open up your file so as to keep your privacy, but the more that he heard conversation about you, the more that he wanted to find out about you.

He opened up your file late at night when everybody had left, not even LYLA was around to be nosy. He hesitated for a moment when he got the file unlocked, wondering if violating your privacy was really worth all this trouble before deciding to do it. He knew that it would take a while for you to open up to him and he just had a itch, an itch to get to know you as much as possible. The contents of the file weren't really surprising, your canon events were the same as the other Spiders'. He looked over to see the file where you lost your boyfriend, the tears in your eyes visible even through the hologram. He bit down on his lip, his fangs gently digging in as he started to feel a bit guilty. That night he realized why you were so eager to make friends, that you'd come from a place of loneliness and no family at all.

Miguel had reached his breaking point when you no longer acknowledged his existence, you simply looked over to the person he was next to and greeted them before walking away. not even the occasional eye roll. He cornered you when you were on your way out of the cafeteria, caging you against the wall and his large body. He tilted your chin up so you'd look at him for once, his gaze completely neutral. "So tell me, why have you been ignoring me lately? You don't even scowl at me anymore," He asked, keeping his tone light as he watched your eyes widen with surprise. You hadn't thought he would notice. "I don't see why you care," you responded, shaking your head as you pushed his hand off your chin. You pushed his chest away from your body, walking off to catch up with Hobie who was watching the interaction.

"What was that about, mate?" Hobie asked with an amused smile, looking back at where Miguel was standing. Miguel had a scowl on his face, like he was jealous he couldn't maintain your attention. "I don’t know. He was asking why I was ignoring him but not sure why he even cares," you replied with a small shrug, watching Hobie’s eyes light up with some kind of interest. "You're blind if you haven't realized it by now," was all he offered though, leaving your mind running with what possibly he could be referring to. Hobie took you to the briefing room where you'd be receiving information for your next mission, Jess leading the meeting as she handed out some manila folders.

Miguel got the news that you were off on your first mission, so he decided he would show up after at your place to see how it had gone. That, and he wanted to apologize for his behavior. Apologizing wasn't something he was completely used to doing, but he was willing to put his pride to the side if it gave him the chance to have an actual conversation with you. He walked over to Jess when she came out of the portal, asking her about how the mission had gone and if anyone was hurt. To his relief, the mission had gone smooth and nobody had gotten injured.

Your first mission wasn't too hard, but you felt the soreness in your arms from swinging around. You immediately took a shower and changed into your pajamas when you got home as a means to relax. It was starting to get to you, pretending you were okay with the other Society members just to get them to like you. You got up when you heard your doorbell ring, putting on your webshooters since you weren't expecting any visitors. Your eyes widen when you saw Miguel standing outside, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I'm here to apologize. I'm sorry for the way that I cornered you earlier today and for the way that I’ve been treating you these past couple days. I also wanted to come see how you were doing," he spoke up after a while of silence, his eyes drifting off to the skimpy top you were wearing, focusing on your breasts. You quickly came to the realization of what Hobie was referring to, watching Miguel struggle to keep eye contact with you. "Did you really come here for that or for something else?" You asked, hooking a finger to the strap of your shirt as you toyed with it. His eyes followed every movement of your finger and you couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "Tell me, Miguel, do I make you nervous?" You asked, tilting his chin down, the same he'd done to you. He nodded, flustered, as he stumbled over his words to come up with some sort of defense for himself. It was empowering, really, seeing your behemoth of a boss practically drooling over you.

"I have one condition if we're gonna do this, okay?" You spoke up when Miguel stepped into your apartment, folding your arms as you looked over at him. He looked so pathetic and needy, nodding like he would give you the moon if you asked for it. "Given some past experiences, I'm not really looking for a relationship. are you okay with this just being casual sex?" you asked, gauging for any reaction from Miguel. You blinked and he was right there on top of you, his lips crashing against yours. "I'll give you anything you want," he mumbled in between kisses, his pelvis thrusting against yours. You let out a soft moan as you felt his hands start to explore every inch of your body, his warmth almost setting a fire in his wake. He gently rolled the buds of your nipples in between his fingers, playing around with the piercings as he moaned. "Been thinking about these every time I cum," he whispered, his lips moving down to your neck.

He bit down on your neck, his fangs gently scraping against your skin as he did so, his tongue running over the bite to soothe the sting as his hand snaked its way to your pants. You let out a small whimper when you felt him cup your pussy, your hips bucking into his instinctively. "Looks like all I had to do was just fuck the attitude right out you, huh?" He whispered, his voice carrying a light tone of amusements as he gathered some slick with his pointer finger. He slowly thrust his finger in, pumping it in and out of you slowly. He continued his attack on your neck, leaving small hickeys as he kissed you. He knew that your accelerated healing wouldn't allow them to be visible tomorrow, but he enjoyed seeing some part of him marking you.

He eventually pushed his middle finger inside of your pussy as well, making a scissoring motion in efforts to open you up. He curled his fingers upwards, hitting your g-spot as you pushed your hips against his palm, hoping to get some much needed friction. You felt yourself getting closer to that brink of orgasm, only to get it pulled away from you. You turned around to look at Miguel, watching as he licked your slick off his fingers. "Only place you'll be cumming is around my cock."

The two of you eventually got your bedroom and you couldn't help but let out a small laugh as Miguel bumped his head against the ceiling. "You think that's funny?" he asked, a teasing tone in his voice as he placed you on the bed. He was quick to disintegrate his suit, his cock hitting his stomach as the tip started to leak precum. "There's some condoms on the bedstand," you spoke up, remembering your policy for one night stands. He reached over, grabbing a condom from the box before getting an idea as he saw your vibrator. He turned it on the lowest setting, setting it against your clit without any pressure as he started to slide inside of you. He let out a moan as your walls engulfed him completely, every part of you was enticing to him. He started off slow, getting you accustomed to the size of his cock before applying more pressure to the vibrator.

You let out a moan as you felt the vibrations shoot straight to you, your hands gripping the sheets. You shivered a bit as you felt miguel's tongue all across your arms, licking as much of the tattoo designs as he could. Even with all that he was doing, he kept his pace steady and even. He used your flexibility to his advantage, placing your legs on his shoulders and the angle allowed him to hit deeper inside of you with no trouble. He started to speed up when he felt your walls clenching around him tightly, the vibrator hitting your clit directly. He pulled his cock completely out of you and just when you were about to complain from the loss of contact, he slammed it into you once more. He started fucking you with a new vigor, his thrusts quick and sloppy as he turned the vibrator on a higher velocity. You clenched around him tightly as you felt your orgasm wash over you, your slick covering the condom completely.

Miguel flipped you over on all fours and he swore he could've come right there on the spot. He noticed that you had a couple other small tattoos on your back, but the one capturing his attention was the blue and red spider tramp stamp. He thrusted in you with ease, your previous orgasm providing him with all the lubrication he needed and he started off slow. He placed his hands on your hips, his heavy balls slapping against your pussy in the most delicious way possible. Miguel started speeding up, keeping his thrusts deep just to feel his tip hit your cervix. He placed the vibrator around your clit again, letting out soft moans of your name as he felt you shiver from the sheer intensity. You clamped tightly around his cock, your orgasm coming quicker than you expected with all the stimulation. Miguel let out a soft groan as you tightened around him, milking his cock for every drop. He filled the condom a few seconds later, delirious over the fact that he'd actually fucked you.

The two of you continued throughout the night, since you were one of the few people that could actually match Miguel’s stamina. You watched as he turned the suit back on the morning, and a part of you wanted to ask him to stay but you knew that wasn't what you told him. He leaned over, kissing you on the forehead before he opened the portal back to the Society.

#moon-rivr #miguel spider man 2099 #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara smut #miguel o’hara fic #miguel ohara fic #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel ohara imagine #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 smut #atsv miguel #miguel atsv #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara is hot #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel smut #miguel x reader #spiderman atsv #spiderman smut

[memory-and-sky]

hobie x male reader """""""""dating"""""""" hcs?

okay this is something i can work on and get done relatively quickly. THANK YOU FOR THIS ANON! to everyone who’s sent in asks for fics, they are being worked on, i swear🙏 hope you like this though!

word count: i dunno, it’s a good chunk of headcanons

containing: explicit mention of homophobia, brief description of injury via fighting, small small small sexual reference, hobie brown x m!reader, could be cis or trans but i wrote this with cis males in mind

the rest of the headcanons are under the cut!

“dating” headcanons

hobie brown x male!reader

since Hobie lives in the 70s in Britain, gay rights weren’t really…. y’know, the best.

for your safety and his, the most he’d do in public is holding your hand. and even that was a big sign of rebellion. holding hands with a person of the same sex? how scandalous!

anyway, while holding your hand, he’d love to put both your hands in his pocket, especially if you run cold (like me :P).

he’d totally be the type to rub his thumb slowly on your palm, too.

Hobie knows a lot of people, especially in the queer and punk scenes. he gets invited to a lot of house parties, and feels safer to put your relationship on display more then, but he’s definitely not over the top with it.

a simple arm over the shoulder, around your waist, or a hand in the back pocket of your jeans, though he doesn’t need PDA to show your relationship off.

“Have ya seen this new patch on the ol’ battle jacket? Or this pin? Yeah, my lovely boyfriend made ‘em fo’ me. Gorgeous, innit?” [speaking to a random friend]

“Have ya had the pleasure of meetin’ my boyfriend yet?”

“I thought you said you hated labels…?”

“Mmh, (y/n)’s influential like tha’. Clearly ya haven’t met ‘em.” He’d say, undoubtedly with a smirk plastered on his face.

i really don’t think Hobie would get particularly jealous over you.

of course he loves you with all his little gay heart, but he doesn’t feel insecure or get upset at you or anything if you talk (or flirt) with another guy (as long as you communicate). if anyone is flirting with you and you seem really disinterested, he’ll totally intervene.

maybe hold you in a way that makes it clear you’re together, or explicitly tell the dude that you’re not interested.

but he doesn’t like treating you like an object he ‘owns’ at all, it’s why he’s pretty hesitant to slap the ‘boyfriend’ label down on your relationship right away.

and the 70s were a sexual revolution! revolting against gender norms and relationship norms, stuff like that.

if anybody ever dared ask you two ‘so who’s the man and the woman in the relationship?’ or ‘who’s the top and who’s the bottom?’ Hobie would be dreadfully disgusted and educate them immediately.

speaking of sexual revolution and whatnot, Hobie would be down for polyamory if you were.

you two have a very good line of communication, and if you wanted to open your relationship and communicated that to him, he’d be fine with it.

you’re so great, he gets how other guys might fall in love with you, too.

Hobie would give the best gifts, try and change my mind. whether it’s for your anniversary, birthday, or just a random gift, they’re always handmade.

maybe he’ll make you a piece of clothing like a shirt, hand-pick a bouquet for you, or even customizing/fixing one of your old clothing pieces with a bit of added Hobie flair.

Even small things, like a charm, pin, or patch have so much love put into them because he loves you!

touching on my first point again, homophobia was very present outside of the queer/punk scene, even in some aspects of the punk community he didn’t feel welcome at all.

usually, he’d tell people where to shove their opinion, but sometimes he’d feel completely unsafe to be himself around anyone.

yeah, he’s spider-man, but he’s also a very young adult. he could fight people, and he definitely used to, but he hated coming home to you being worried sick about all the horrible bruises, cuts, and scrapes on him.

back to the lighthearted stuff, he’s definitely the type of guy to cook for you.

doesn’t matter what meal it is, he’s gonna make it for you if he has the chance to. and he actually makes good food, despite living in Britain his whole life.

if you’ve got issues with trying new foods, his place will always be stocked full with your safe foods no matter what.

you’ll eat together, and he’ll gaze dreamily at you, wondering how he ever got so lucky to land such a stellar guy like you.

this man loves coming home after a long day, popping in a VCR for a movie of some sort (TV could be in your bedroom or living room, doesn’t matter), and just cuddling with you.

he doesn’t mind being either the big spoon or little spoon, but tends to like being big spoon cause he likes holding you close to him so much.

he’s very scrawny, but doesn’t mean he won’t love you all the same, and hold you tight.

one more thing, Hobie loves you above all else. he’ll protect you and fight for you anytime you need. when it comes to his partners, he does not play around!!

#REQUESTS CURRENTLY OPEN! #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #spider punk #atsv #spiderpunk #atsv hobie #spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #hobie brown x male reader #hobie brown x male!reader #hobie x male!reader #hobie brown headcanons #spiderpunk fanfic #hobie fanfic #hobie brown x reader #male!reader #gay as hell #hobie brown is a gay man #deadman #deadman vkei #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie spiderverse #spiderman #hobie brown x m!reader

[fitsofdespair]

i have hesitated to say anything before now. in part because i removed myself from fandom discourse and really from actively discussing iwtv a year ago. i consider it all a lose-lose situation.

but also because i’m generally of the opinion that black fans don’t need people to be their white saviors, least of all me. black people have never been saved by white people. they were never just given anything when it comes to strides in equality, they fought for it and still fight for it, against constant violent pushback every step of the way. only instead of the good ole’ days when racists just called those fighting for equality uppity, they’re now “bullies” for daring to call you out on your shit after the repeated condescension and the resulting harassment you’ve exhibited towards them.

in this day and age the word bully has zero meaning anymore. i mean come on, melania trump calls people mean about her husband bullies. elon musk thinks he’s being bullied by twitter users, though he clearly holds all the power and is absolutely the problem. its become a meaningless word that goliaths use to call davids because they won’t use the real word they actually want to say. some of these popular blogs are not being bullied, they’re being held accountable for their own actions.

it’s pretty disgusting the number of you who decided to identify strongly with these users that not only fail to question their own racial biases but have gone so far as to suggest black people don’t face racism anymore. this is so fucked. tbh it can be argued in many ways white people, especially in the deep south where i’m from, are inherently raised steeped in racism, even if its not direct. just because your family aren’t ostensibly racist doesn’t mean they didn’t bake their own little prejudices into your upbringing and being raised in your environment didn’t encourage them. even if you don’t see yourself as racist, you have to unlearn all this shit, even if it never once occurred to you that you are part of it. just cause you believe in equality and don’t hate people for their color or cultural background does not make you free of perpetuating microaggressions against them. this applies to fans across the world of course. (like for you white euro iwtv fans, you may say you have no problem with black people but i’ve heard some wild things some of yall have to say about the turks.)

i understand that probably half or more of you are not usamericans. but no matter what environment you live in, no matter where you were raised, there is no excuse for your behavior. just because YOU don’t see racism in your day to day life or are in the more likely situation, too blindly comfortable in your place in society to notice it right in front of your face, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist as a constant presence in other parts of the world or isn’t deeply ensconced in online rhetoric.

so for you white iwtv fans who can’t be fucked to mention let alone defend people you, in many cases once called friend, against the absolute horseshit your current comrades are spewing wrapped up in their nice safe cocoons of victimhood, i hope you do some serious soul searching to figure out if this is who you are, a person too cowardly to call out a friend because it might cost you their friendship. a person quick to condemn others on hearsay because you couldn’t be fucked to wonder am i on the right side of this? and if you do manage to get wise and change your mind, remember its not unforgivable to say, you know what? i was wrong. i wrote in an old post that the hallmark of being a functional adult is changing your views accordingly when you learn new information or even just ruminate on what you know (i myself was a little bitch about ep 5 when it first dropped until i had to sit down and ask myself why i was actually feeling some kind of way about it). dying on a hill is not all its cracked up to be. being told you’re wrong is not always a personal attack and its often an opportunity for improvement if you can be bothered to genuinely hear other people out. an alarming number from all walks of life never figure that out. for my part, i am still learning and hope i never stop learning.

while that sentiments all nice and gooey (i mean them, but i understand its still sacharine to put out there), i am still guilty for not having directly written anything about this until now. and thats on me and i earned any flack i get for that. again, i am more of the mindset that black people don’t need white spokespeople, but that doesn’t mean they'll mind allies. and as a sidebar, going out of your way to say you are rising “above the noise” or “ignoring the drama” is absolutely your right, but it does not make you superior. it just makes you complacent with the status quo. i mean as long as you get to squee!! about anything and everything who cares about other people, right?

#and to be clear since i think some people may be a bit confused: i’m admonishing user nalyra-dreaming and their followers #some people who reblogged seem to not understand that #iwtv #interview with the vampire #alex.txt

[transboysokka]

tell me about autistic Zuko (modern au or canon. Like how he grew up, why it’s justified in canon, how people around him react to it/are they assholes or not) bc I’ve been thinking about him but I can’t seem to articulate all my feelings into words and you’re good at that <3

hahahaha gladly here is a smattering of Facts and Evidence, in no particular order

Fact #1: His special interest is the Avatar. That boy’s done so much research!! (I’m joking with this one and yet… 👀)

Evidence #1: His father was embarrassed of him when he was a kid. This could have been for a variety of reasons including that he’s gay but also if you are trying to raise an heir of a powerful nation, you would see a lot of autism symptoms as a weakness, especially things like awkwardness, difficulty making eye contact, etc

Evidence #2: He doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends growing up which can also be explained in different ways but a kid just following around his sister and her friends all day? sus

Evidence #3: The way he rehearses what he’s going to say to Aang at the Western Air Temple… and the awkwardness of it makes it So Much More… it’s the most really, THE autistic of scenarios. We GOTTA practice big conversations like that before they happen, we just do…

Evidence #4: He borrows from other scripts for social interaction. You know when he’s trying fo get along with everyone at the air temple and he makes tea for them and try to tell a joke? Why does he do that? Because he’s mimicking Iroh, who is probably the most outgoing person in his life, and following exactly what Iroh does to be friendly and ingratiate himself with others…

Evidence #5: Missing social cues. I can’t think of any examples off the top of my head but I think we’ve all seen it. Also “That’s rough, buddy” is something he TOTALLY stole from someone else because he had no idea what he actually was supposed to say in that situation

Fact #2: now HERE’s a guy who feels deeply but is SO bad at expressing or controlling his feelings. Remember when he was worried about the comet and instead of talking about it just ATTACKED HIS FRIENDS?? oof yeah

Important Headcanon #1: Zuko is really sensitive to texture and has ARFID, which does have a high overlap with autistic folks. This “pickiness” causes real problems for him, especially when he’s v busy being the Fire Lord…. He tends to eat the same foods a lot to sustain himself (fire flakes) and makes the same exact tea for himself every single day. He DOES like to bake and cook though, and is quite good at it, even if he won’t eat it all

Headcanon #2: Our boy’s special interests are history, dao swords, and baking

Headcanon #3: Not a fan of eye contact

Theory #1: Our boy Sokka def has that ADHD and I just don’t think it’s that common or easy for ND folks to be in a relationship with NT folks (I have no proof of this but just think about it for a sec) so therefore Zuko must be neurodivergent

This is a big ol’ mess but for a MUCH more comprehensive and comprehensible Auristic Zuko explanation, please refer to this masterpiece of a post which I just found after spending a bunch of time answering this ask lolol

#thank u tho anon this was fun to think through #quesTian #atla #autistic Zuko

[mindibindi]

The Failure of Ted Lasso's Unconventional Politics

SOCIAL CONDITIONING:

According to Brendan Hunt, shippers interested in a second chance, mature-age romance between Ted and Rebecca were being blindly, un-self-reflexively led about by their “social conditioning”. Presumably, however, the writers who wrote Ted returning to his heteronormative family unit – as well as all the viewers who enjoyed this ending and have defended it since – are completely free of social conditioning? No social conditioning is involved in reifying the white heterosexual family unit? No social conditioning is involved in deifying parenthood, fatherhood and patriarchy at the cost of all else? There is no social conditioning involved in a conclusion that values good ole working class Americana while rejecting the big, queer, complicated, multicultural world?

KISS (Keep It Simple Stupid):

If the creators wanted to gesture to “Cheers” as a classic American sitcom, then at least learn from its example. This show worked best when it worked with familiar, beloved characters in a familiar, beloved, but confined setting. "Ted Lasso" had a near-perfect first act, doing a simple thing well. But from s2 onward, the show started straying out of bounds. The cast of characters kept expanding and contracting: people were in, people were out, characters were coming and going and changing (what was the point of that whole Zava plotline?). We had multiple workplaces and workplace dramas (grew to like Barbara tho). Episodes got long and unwieldy. Themes got convoluted as the show took a long trip, imo, up its own arse. The folksy wisdom of s1 became grating self-indulgence and cliched “moment” manufacturing.  

SUPERFICIAL UNCONVENTIONALITY:

TL employed a familiar 3-part structure but ultimately its supposedly radical, unconventional politics was not reflected in the show’s structure. Since the first act started with Ted's arrival, you could see his departure coming from a mile off. Some folks are acting like returning Ted home constitutes some super brave move by the writers that we've never seen before. But if you want to talk social conditioning expressed through narrative expectation then you really couldn't get anything more conventional than this ending.

We've seen it all before:

Act I: Fish-out-of-Water character arrives and begins winning over a dubious, dysfunctional community Act II: Bonding, hijinks, missteps, complications and development Act III: Revelations of growth. Community sadly waves goodbye to teacher they love but no longer need. Cue credits with moving song choice.

It's as cliche, conventional and predictable as it gets. And I could condescendingly accuse every viewer who enjoyed this ending as being blindly and un-self-reflexively led around by their social conditioning. But even if I'm not one of the showrunners who also played a beloved character and who is speaking on a public forum, that would be a pretty fucking shitty move. What I am saying is that the disagreement over this ending speaks to some core ideological differences currently playing out across the globe around patriarchy, feminism, queerness and privilege. There is an opportunity here to examine what we socioculturally view as “good’ and “right” and “happy”. These ideas of good, right and happy are not necessarily benign and will be inevitably reflected in and reproduced by our art.

PATRIARCHY:

In the end, “Ted Lasso” literally chose patriarchy (but what kind is the question). Just because this show was working with a familiar 3-part structure, that doesn't mean it didn't need to justify Ted's inevitable departure. For many people, his son is enough. That's it. End of conversation. Henry trumps all. And yes, this was always going to be the justification used by the series. But I think this disagreement highlights changing attitudes to modern parenting. Everyone agrees that parenting requires sacrifice: large and small, everyday and lifelong. But how much sacrifice is too much?

For some people, this was too much sacrifice. Others seem to think it was Ted's duty to sacrifice for his son his own sense of family and community, his continued health and growth, his professional fulfilment. Imo, he could have shared all of this with him but chose old-school parental sacrifice instead. I consider this kind of sacrifice to be something that culturally we’re coming to recognise as unhealthy, for both parent and child. In reality, parents are more than one thing. Parents have jobs, interests, relationships, needs, limitations and struggles. Parents are people.

In the series, Ted was established as a person: a person with a sad past, a tortured inner world, a strong desire to connect with others and, potentially, a brighter future than his past. From the beginning, his relationship with Michelle was established (and often reinforced) as over, dead, absolutely no route back in. But his relationship with his son was loving and important to him. Of course it was. He’d be a bad man and unlikeable character if it wasn’t. Even so, Henry isn’t a major or fully realised character in this show. We care about him, relate to him through Ted. He matters to us because he matters to Ted. But frankly, we are far more attached to Ted’s other adopted “children”, the relationships we have watched him develop over 3 years, than the relationship we only saw glimpses of. That’s just narrative reality. In reality, yes, Henry would and should be Ted’s first priority. This is only right. In fiction, the team at Richmond should have been the first priority of Jason and the rest of the writing team. They are the ones we want to see and want to see happy and settled.

As many frustrated viewers have stated, it's not Ted's departure that is so disheartening but how it was done. If the TL team wanted to make this choice seem like a healthy one for Ted then they needed to establish other things waiting for him in Kansas: friends, community, employment, fulfillment. As it was, literally nothing tipped the scales in favour of Kansas. There were no romantic, community or larger familial relationships to get back to. Far too much was just left to inference or imagination. Yes, we can assume that Ted has community in Kansas, that he will probably get a great job after his success in Richmond. But all the people and opportunities we would like to infer/imagine will never tip the balance towards Kansas when we consider all we KNOW is already established for him in Richmond. The homeworld and beloved characters of a show will always hold more emotional weight than anything undefined and hypothetical. If viewers were to be happy with Ted’s exit then the writers needed to take the time to lovingly define his future away from the club.

Instead, it seems like a deliberate choice to shut Ted down and perform (and I do mean “perform”) this marvelous sacrifice for his son that so many think is admirable. It’s this shutdown that is so inconsistent and confusing. Because at any time in the hour, Ted could have said to Rebecca, the Diamond Dogs and/or his team:

“Look y'all this ain't the end. We’re family now. I'll be back. I'll show y'all round Kansas anytime you wanna visit. My mom will cook a dinner that will clog your arteries. And every so often, what say we do a long-distance movie night, huh? I'll miss you all but I’ll be watching every game and I can't wait to come back and see you win the whole fucking thing!!”

Ted could have been a model of honest, expressive, emotionally forthcoming, relationship-maintaining masculinity. But nope. Not a word. Just brave male sacrifice. It's straight up patriarchal propaganda. And truth is, fathers sacrifice way less than mothers do in heterosexual parenting relationships. Mothers are generally the ones making those small, everyday sacrifices that our society rarely acknowledges or admires. But I bet this ending makes all those lazy husbands and boyfriends feel real good about themselves. I bet it makes many female partners feel all warm and fuzzy to know that even though their kids’ father won't share half the labour that goes into raising a child, when it comes time for him to perform a massive manly sacrifice for his family, he toootttaaally will. I'm sorry, what were you saying about social conditioning Mr. Hunt?

FATHER GOD or WHITE SAVIOUR?:

Patriarchy needs its Father Gods and its Mother Gods to play certain roles (tho, to paraphrase Angela Carter, both are as silly as each other.) These magical figures materialise at pivotal times then dematerialise when the narrative is over, the pivotal lessons learned. They never themselves learn or alter. Think Mary Poppins or Nanny McPhee. These figures are not entirely human, they possess an element of the supernatural. They serve others, serve a higher purpose. Nanny McPhee's appearance changes only as a reflection of her charges’ growth. Mary Poppins – the figure to whom Ted is most likened – learns to care about her kids but she doesn't engage in any self-introspection. Her duty and trajectory remains unchanged. When she arrives at her next job, she will do so exactly the same as she was.

These otherworldly mother deities are not unproblematic feminist figures themselves. But creating a male, fatherhood deity becomes even more problematic when he is white, cis-het and pretty able. Ted arrives to teach all the black and brown lost boys, to unite the disconnected women, liberate the closeted gays and to update the bumbling English gentlemen (there is, I feel, a special relish in these American bros educating their former colonisers on modern manhood). Here, we start to stray into white saviour territory. Frighteningly, this kind of patriarchal demi-god implies that white men are the most progressive figures in a society, they are in the political vanguard, championing the needs of the disconnected and downtrodden. White men are the ultimate source of wisdom, kindness and progress. It represents them as a group as progressive, when in reality the attitudes and politics of this group represent conservative politics and regressive values that impede the progress of every other marginalised group. If we buy this myth about white men, then we are more likely to accept what they say to us from their positions of power and privilege as right, wise, kind and progressive, even when it is the opposite.

So, if you are going to put forward a white man as a model of progressive politics, then you need to embrace unconventionality, not just superficially but down to your bones. “Ted Lasso” tried to structure s2 and s3 differently but just ended up making a mess of allusions and ideologies that did not connect, cohere, develop or conclude. In fact, sometimes they straight-up contradicted.  Employing a magical 3-part structure and making a bunch of meaningless allusions to well-known classics does not another classic make. They did not engage with any of these classics (“Cheers”, “Mary Poppins”, “The Wizard of Oz”) in any deep or critical way. Classics may be loved but they are not faultless. If you simply repeat what has already been done, even in celebrated classics, you may just end up repeating mistakes someone already made for you to learn from. TL repeats the central feminist problem of parental deities in “Mary Poppins”, just as it repeats the irreconcilable ending of “The Wizard of Oz”.

LIMINALITY:

Both “The Wizard of Oz” and “Mary Poppins” take us into strange liminal worlds. “Ted Lasso” could be read similarly, except that Ted doesn't take any magic home with him. In fact, he seems to actively forget it, reverting to the Ted he was before leaving. No queerness or feminism follows him home, no traces of the various cultures he's come into contact with. The liminal remain liminal with no indication that these two worlds will communicate or can integrate. The non-white, female, queer and otherwise bizarre are left outside of Ted’s squeaky clean hometown heteronormativity. And I really don’t think I have to explain why that is so deeply irresponsible. Because again, this is a writing choice.

That epilogue at the end was brief but imagine if it included more detail: Ted texting with Rebecca, or facetiming with Roy, Jamie giving Henry advice. They didn't take the time to honour and continue these relationships or integrate these two worlds. They didn't suggest that responsible fatherhood could entail many things, could look different. “Sacrifice,” they said profoundly. “Fatherhood,” they murmured mistily. “Patriarchy” was their final word to which this feminist says, “Bullshit.”

PRIVILEGE:  

I only did one film unit at uni but it really doesn't take much to deconstruct the absurdly inconsistent ending of “The Wizard of Oz”. It was 1939, the end of the Great Depression and the start of another devastating world war. People needed to be convinced that their small ramshackle b/w lives surrounded by loved ones were stable, noble even. They already had everything they needed. They didn't need Oz. They didn't need bright futures, big adventures or exciting opportunities. Monochrome Kansas was all a good American should ever hope for. There was danger in difference, safety at home.

Well, here we are in late-stage capitalistic hell, having come through (???) a pandemic and it takes a special sort of privilege to say to an audience: you don't need money or opportunity or community, they won't make your life any better than before. Be happy with the muddy and mundane. Be happy with what you've got. Turn away from larger community, greater knowledge, continued stability, and isolate yourself in a bubble of you and yours. Look, it's not a sweet or familiar narrative conclusion but the truth is, Ted’s, Henry’s and Michelle’s lives would have all been better if they'd relocated to London. Do these dolts have any idea what teachers (in the USA esp) are currently going through? How overworked and underpaid and undervalued these people are? The burnout rates?? Ted didn't have to take the highest salary Rebecca offered but, had the writers been willing to put in the effort, a more unconventional, more modern ending to this series could have been crafted.

Not that I'm surprised they took the easy road to glory. All indications from the beginning of s3 suggested that this would be the rather predictable conclusion. Indications do not, however, constitute development. This team had the opportunity to write a new ending to an old story, one that incorporated queer, feminist and anti-capitalist values. One that defined a different, new version of patriarchy. They didn't even think to. In their white boi hubris, they just assumed that they and tradition knew best. Considering how many viewers would be struggling right now for food, housing, employment and opportunity, an ending in which Ted turns down an opportunity like this hits a false, rather virtue-signally note. Literally, nobody would have come out worse. Everybody would have benefitted from Ted staying in Richmond. Which means this decision was made purely to manufacture a “moment” that celebrates patriarchy.

ANTICAPITALISM: There’s a reason they had Rebecca offer Ted the biggest salary in his industry. They wanted to make it NotAboutTheMoney! Ted doesn’t say so (doesn’t say anything) but, because this narrative idea is so fucking familiar, we can assume the thoughts behind his oh-so-sage expression are: “Well, shucks now, boss, I rightly do appreciate the kindly offer but that there kid o’ mine is more important to me than any cash you could put in my silly lil handy-hands.” Good Lord. The cringe is real. I really, really can’t with this mighty, manly silence and sacrifice. My problem isn’t that Ted values his son over money (not that it has to be a choice because that money could benefit Henry and his mother, who is owed a heck of a lot of child support esp since she’s been raising their son solo for 3 years). Again, that is how it should be. My problem is that the show actively established Richmond as an anticapitalist landscape, then suddenly at the eleventh hour, tried to walk that back and imply it was actually a capitalistic landscape (in contrast to homey ole Kansas).  

Capitalism teaches us to sniff at money. We've been told by the monied and privileged that it won't buy happiness. (This is of course, utter bullshit because money can buy you a hell of a lot of wellbeing, security and opportunity). At the beginning of the series, Rebecca Welton stands for this principle. And by the end, she has found a way to use her extreme wealth and privilege in an ethical way. She gives it away. She supports others. She lets Sam out of a promotional contract, she funds Keeley’s business, she sells half the club to fans. The most obvious example of Rebecca’s anticapitalist politics is her confrontation with all the richy riches who want to take soccer away from the people. Here, she becomes an anticapitalist leader, one who has been positively influenced by the anticapitalistic politics of The Lasso Way.

The Lasso Way is anticapitalistic in that it stresses that winning isn’t everything. You try but you try together. You play hard, not in order to beat the other guy, but to be the best (player, teammate, man) you can be. There are no individual stars, only collaborative team players. You give due credit to others, the team, the support staff. The club functions well when it functions as a unit. Over the course of the series, it becomes a commune that protects and nurtures its citizens. A socialist haven that values people over profits, prizes and meaningless acquisition. The Greyhounds don’t want to win the league for the money or the top spot. Winning the whole fucking thing is an expression of their regard for each other, the game and the new, kinder ethos they all now live by.

Because they spent 3 years establishing all of this (during a time when we really needed to hear it), there is something v disingenuous about them then having Rebecca offer to go to extremes to pay Ted more money than any man should have. It is not consistent with the show’s themes, the ethos of the club, Rebecca’s attitude or what she knows of Ted. She knows it’s not about the money for Ted. It never was. It’s an act of desperation on her part, but why did they need to make her ridiculous, desperate, so inept in this moment? Hannah plays it beautifully but I can’t help but feel this is part of them diminishing Richmond, (re)casting it as excessively capitalistic in relation to Kansas so that they can turn Ted’s decision into a simple Money < Son choice. Because if it is a Money < Son choice then he has no dilemma. There is no other choice. He goes home to his son. The problem is, they’ve just spent 3 years proving that it is not a simple Money < Son dilemma. Money was never actually part of this equation. Ted left to give Michelle space, to find himself, to find a new life and community, to extend himself beyond what he knew as normal. As such, there is now far more than just money for Ted in Richmond (which tbf, Rebecca also points out, but I still think this point stands).  

The other major problem is that, here in the real world, middle-class America (which btw does not exist) is far from being a haven of peace and prosperity comparable to nowhere in the world. This is a lazy cliché than any amount of travel should quickly disabuse you of. And yet in Kansas, we are supposed to believe, despite everything happening in America (referenced by Henry in ep 3.01), Ted will find community, opportunity and stability. To pull off this ending, they needed to establish a Kansas unlike the one currently in existence. This is what they did with Richmond. The UK is no better than the US currently, but they nevertheless established an ideal society, one with values very contrary to the world we now live in. Is it any wonder that people saw the desertion of this world as a rejection of feminist, queer and anticapitalist values? Right now, more than ever, people want to believe in a society that isn't all about triumph, success, competition, acquisition, individualism and aggression. They want to believe in a society that emphasises community, values people, shares wealth, offers opportunity, encourages difference, improves lives and moves onward, forward, in circumspect but ethical steps. These themes were all there in the series. They just weren't utilised when it came time to shape its conclusion.

#ted lasso #ted lasso finale #ted x rebecca #jason sudeikis #brendan hunt #istg i'm done #i'm a ridiculous person #long post #did anyone read this? #fuck i overthink #dumb show #rebecca welton #rebecca welton deserved better #feminist queer anticapitalist rant #i'm here to tell you that if you like ted lasso you're probly a socialist

[herzgeist-writes]

Garchu, Captain

A/N: A big garchu for my favorite danger mushroom! SO, I challenged myself to draw again - digital art is extremely new to me, but I guess I'll get the hang of it sooner or later. Anywho, happy birfday Trafs! ఌ

Fanart by me - more on my art blog @lunar-3scap3

Content: Mini scenario / As fluffy as Bepo's fuzzy ears / Did I insert myself right there? Yes. Yes I think I did.

"You guys . ."

Law freezes solid in place, the room he just stepped in unfolds in colourful splashes of confetti and loud cheers and party horns boom in his ears.

"Happy birthday Captain!"

The crew welcomes their aloof superior to the festivity dedicated to him. Everybody laughs and claps their hands in glee. Bepo gives the completely speechles white hat a big ol' bear hug and congratulates him wholeheartedly.

After hours of partying and socialising, Law is contemplating to either hit the hay or sink himself into studies, in attempt to rid that strange feeling emitting from his heart.

He assumes the latter to be the best of both options and makes it his task to learn every excisiting bone in the human body by heart. Again.

Blue shifts to black and the night engulfs the sea in complete darkness, and a doctor is still twirling his thumbs, hovering over every last letter of his medical papers, unable to sleep.

A soft knock against the metal door to his compartment tears him out of focus. Slowly opening it, already having an idea who he‘s about to meet at the doorframe, he sticks out his head:

"Yes?"

"May I come in?"

It‘s small little you, fluttering your lashes at him in anticipation. Oh boy. He gestures you to enter with an open arm, leading the way in. Inside his office and with the door now closed, you prepare to attack.

"Guess what I got you, Dr. Trafs!"

"How many times do I have to tell you, quit-"

"Tadaa!"

You hold out a teddy polar bear to him, giving it a tiny squeeze to prove it‘s plushness.

"Happy birthday, my favorite danger mushroom!"

"You must be joking, right?"

"No, he‘s all yours!"

Law inspects the polar bear plushie in his slender hands with highest of suspicion, the longer he stares it down, the more it‘s cuteness begins to grow on him. A shade of red slowly creeps over his face and his mouth opens, trying to speak, but only manages to bubble incoherent nonsense.

"I- don‘t know what to say. I- you-"

"Oh and I brought you this hoodie. Knew you‘d like the colour yellow, so!"

"Y-Yeah, that‘s-"

"OH and I got us tickets for the upcoming Sor-"

"(Y/n)-ya!"

He rips you out of your 'gift giving spree' by pressing your face into his chest, practically cutting off your air supply. The attempted murder forms into some sort of hug.

"Do you always have to go overboard?"

"Hmm, let me fink . . mhm, yef! I‘m obligated to do fo!"

Still pressed against his torso, your silly attest escapes you in a muffled, yet quite adorable manner. Thus you lift your head and throw a smug feline like grin at Law, to which he only responds with an exasperated groan.

"You’re such a pain, (Y/n)-ya . ."

"Oh hush, you love my pain!"

In entertainment he snorts:

"You wish."

Tangling yourself out of his stronghold, you continue where you left off.

"Anyway, I got us tickets for the upcoming Sora Con."

Law is flabbergasted and his arms shoot up to grab you by the shoulders.

"You did not?!"

"I did."

Internally screaming, the Captain barely keeps himself together, almost forgetting his manners.

"Thank you . . (Y/n)-ya."

With a subtle beckoning motion of your finger, you ask him to lean down to your level. Now his face only inches from yours, you rub your cheek against his. His raven sideburn tickling you.

"Glad you like it, Trafs."

Puzzled, Law turns to look at you.

"And what was that just now? It feels . . awkward."

"Can’t I love you in my own awkward way, Surgeon of Death? I thanked you the minken way."

"Didn’t say you couldn’t - but what are you thanking me for? You just assaulted me with presents. I don‘t under-"

Once more you snuggle up to him and . .

"Thank you - for being you. Garchu, Captain" ~ ♡

. . nibble his ear.

Error 404 - Law.exe stopped working. What a way to celebrate ones birthday.

#one piece #one piece law #law x reader #happy birthday law #one piece law chibi #one piece law fanart #emi's random ramblings

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Today's WTF House is located in Burlington, Wisconsin and was built in 1940. It looks like they added on, as they went along, though. Even the realtor is confused- they're calling it a Victorian/Federal. No, it is not. Anyway, it has 5bd, 4ba, and is listed for $209,900.

Now, here in the living room is a gas fireplace with a big ol' gas pipe snaking thru the wall to the heating mechanism. This is weird.

YEEEHAAAHH! This looks like a bar.

I don't know what this is. Maybe for a cat?

In the kitchen, the floor needs replacing, but what's that on the ceiling?

I don't know what's going on in here, they had something wired up.

This looks like a child's bedroom. I'm thinking that the pole on the left is for support and the blue one on the left is for climbing in the bed.

Another bedroom with the same ceiling motif? The outdoor lamp fixture is a nice touch on the tree.

This bathroom looks normal.

Here's a bathroom sink on a chimney.

And, for some reason, they made these 2 toilets look like outhouses.

Here's some sort of makeshift closet.

Look at this bonus, though- a pink heart-shaped tub.

Roof top deck.

And, a plant room.

There appears to be another roof top deck and a covered patio on this structure.

#WTF house #houses #house tours #home tour

[that-one-anxious-mango]

Summary : What happens when all the secrets start to tumble out and the truth about many things starts to unravel...including people.

Contents: BIG OLE JUICY ANGST. I mean this is what some of you all wanted. But caution this installment includes the following: DRAMA! Allusions to and discussions of abortion. Arguing between friends. Accusations. Tension. Allusions to rough childhood upbringing. Hospital setting. Cursing. Protective/Anger Austin!

Please read with caution.

A/N: Hello Beautiful Humans! I hope you're all well. Here it is. The Second installment. I hope you enjoy it. Just a reminder next installment (3) will be the finale. Thanks so much for the love and reading!

P.S Feel Free to comment and send me letters about thoughts, feelings, or anything else! And also comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist.

Much love *hugs*

Taglist: @wacoshuffle, @purejasmine

---

“ And do you remember what it was like when you stepped into the studio for the first time to work with Baz and the crew? What that moment was like when you realized what you were about to fully do? " The interviewer asked Austin.

Austin nodded offering a somber smile as he tried to grasp his words, " Of course. Yeah..it was..ummm..."

He'd been asked this question before probably fifty thousand times and usually answered it with ease, but today the thoughts weren't coming together.

Instead his mind was somewhere else, his mind was with you.

All night long last night Austin had tossed and turned thinking about not having you in his arms, and the look of hurt replaying in his brain over and over. He wanted nothing more than to get up and go down the hall to your bedroom to scoop you up and love on you until you let him fix all your problems.

But knew he couldn't because he needed the boundary.

He needed you to know he was serious.

For the rest of the interview he politely muddled through it while giving his best efforts and little attention.

Once they wrapped he thanked the interviewer and staff before making his way off the soundstage.

As he approached his awaiting team, Austin couldn't help but notice the grave looks on their faces they were doing their best to try and hide.

Kate, his publicist looked extremely antsy and nervous, while James, his agent stood beside her with a monotone expression holding Austin's cellphone.

" What's going on? " He asked looking between them. " Aus. You need to take this." His agent stuck his hand out with the phone.

Immediately Austin could feel his heart sink to the floor and anguish walk over him.

" Is everything alright? " He asked hoping to God nothing serious had occurred. " Who is this? "

" Can't say. Just take the phone." The man beckoned.

Skeptically accepting the device, he pressed it to his ear and took a deep breath before speaking, " Hello? "

As soon as he heard the voice on the other end his scrunched in uneasiness, " Grace? Whoa--Hey! What's the matter? "He tried listening to your sister go on a mile a minute until he stopped her dead in her tracks when she revealed your whereabouts.

" SHE WHAT? "

———-

Upon arrival to the hospital you'd been admitted to the OB fifth floor and Alana had made the rounds calling everyone she could think important to call, which included Alex, Phoebe, Beatrice, and your co-worker, Tia, who she knew you were good friends with.

She left the family calling to Grace whom she'd talked to on the ambulance ride.

Phoebe then called your uncle in Texas, uncle in London, and grandmother who was traveling in her retirement.

But amongst those calls Alana made, still Austin's name wasn't included. When Grace asked if Austin had been called Alana told her that in the ' heat of the moment ' she'd forgotten.

Grace then volunteered to do it leaving Alana's hands clean.

After they all were informed Phoebe was the first to show with her kid sister, Sprite, in tow who was visiting for the week on a school break.

Soon after followed Alex who came in looking distraught as she had just fought her way through bounds of LA traffic to get there as fast as she could have from set.

And Beatrice also came in with her husband, Santiago, as they both apologized for the wait citing how they would have been there sooner but had to frantically find a sitter to take their youngest who was out of school.

Avery had also called Alana and let her know that she'd been caught in afternoon traffic on the freeway and would get there as soon as possible.

All together asking a thousand and one questions, they hadn't been the least bit calm until one of the nurses had come over to assure the group that while you were stable, none of them would be allowed to see you until the doctor okayed it.

Calling Grace back when a nurse questioned who was the physical next of kin, it was revealed that she had already been in contact with the hospital staff and the person who was granted power of physical next of kin, was Phoebe.

Eagerly waiting to get a update they all sat praying and hoping for your well being until the doctor would come to notify them with a update.

Fifteen minutes later...

They could hear him before they seen him, Austin had practically came barreling into the open area of the fifth floor OBGYN sector with members of his team behind him.

He looked completely disheveled with his shirt wrinkled, suit jacket half off, hair moussed like he'd been running his fingers through it every five seconds, and his face were wide and extremely alert as they zipped from place to place in panic.

He went first to the nurses' station to try and gather information, although everything he said came out fast and jumbled.

But while he still looked around in a fearful daze, he then spotted the group nearby and by passed the check in nurse at the desk, to charge toward them and immediately go into question.

" What the hell happened? How is she? Where is she? I-is she okay? "  Austin moved to try and walk down the hall toward the rooms determined to search each one until he found you, but was stopped gently by Phoebe's hand.

" Aus wait. It's the room three doors down, but we can't go in there right now. The doctor just went in and they're running some tests. We don't know much because they wouldn't tell us really but what we do know is she is stable so they say." She looking at him empathetically.

Austin just shook his head not understanding, " What do you mean ' so they say ' ? And why wasn't I called AS SOON as this happened? Who was all there with her? " She just collapsed? " He threw out looking around at the group.

Before anyone could answer him, their heads whirled around at the sound of the room door opening and closing.

Seconds later they could see a nurse exit followed by a doctor who began walking over to the group, " Is this the family of Y/N L/N? " She asked when she stood in-front of them.

A multitude of keen yeses could be heard, " Wonderful, now if there anyone here that is next of kin, or a supp-"

" She's my wife." Austin cut her off. Nodding the doctor was about to continue but heard a voice speak.

" He's the fiancée. And Phoebe is technically the appointed next of kin as we've been made aware." Alana could be heard correcting from the back.

All turning to look at her, some in disbelief and others in distain, still the doctor continued, " Well I can say she is still stable. But I can only go into detail with whoever is appointed next of kin and I also can only allow this person in the room for visitation right now." She informed.

" Austin should see her first." Phoebe spoke up, " He's her fiancée and her family, so I consent to him going in the room but once you're done all I ask is for you to come update us as well. We're her family too. " She decided giving the go head.

Turning his gaze to Phoebe who nodded in encouragement, Austin in return mouthed a 'thank you' and then brought his attention back to the doctor.

" Hi I'm Dr. Mackenzie Floyd, I'm the head of the OBYGN department here at Emory Moss. " The doctor informed reaching out to shake hands with Austin who in return offered his extremely clammy and shaking hand.

" I'm Austin. The husband." Austin introduced himself while making sure to put a extra emphasis on his last words so Alana could hear.

" Nice to meet you. I'm sure you're eager for an update on your wife and would like to see her, so why don't you follow me. " Floyd motioned.

The two them set off to your room leaving behind the group who'd begun to chatter.

When inside, as soon as he saw you lying there, all the air in his lungs seemed to leave all at once and his hands began to feel ice cold against themselves.

You looked like you were sleeping.

Finally relaxed and not so uptight and tired like you'd been.

And while he was glad you were resting, he still couldn't shake the aching need to want to see your eyes pour into his.

" So just give it to me, doc. How's she doing? " Austin asked still not taking his eyes off you.

With a sigh Dr. Floyd began, " Well Mr. Butler it seems that your wife's collapse was the result of a significant drop in her blood sugar and pressure. When she came in her vitals showed that she was a tad bit under nourished for our liking so we've put her on a standard saline trip as well as fluids. Her weight is also lower than the standard at this stage so that's something else we'd like to work on. We suspect she hasn't been eating or hydrating the way she should. " She revealed.

" Overall she also seems to be quite tired. Has she been sleeping at night at all?" Dr. Floyd asked.

Austin thought back to the late nights in your office you'd been pulling and the tossing and turning he could feel come from you during the night.

" As of recently, not much. Usually she is a stickler about her sleep and tries to get a strict nine hours a night. But that hasn't been the case as of late." Austin confirmed. Dr. Floyd, " I understand. That's not unusual though at this stage. Many women experience some form of insomnia early on and it can be an adjustment. But just to be safe we'll give you guys some options of what you can do at home to combat this." She finished taking down some notes.

Austin nodded still not fully understanding what she was getting at.

This stage? Early on?

Still he was trying to wait until he felt she was finished to ask questions.

 " But on a happier note, we've a extensive amount of tests and the baby's vitals are strong. Placenta looks healthy. There's thankfully no signs of trauma or malnourishment. They seem to be hitting all their markers right on schedule." Dr. Floyd informed knocking the wind out of Austin.

Hold on.

Baby? What BABY?

Grace on the phone nor anyone else hadn't mentioned anything about a baby. So what was truly going on here.

" I'm sorry Dr. Floyd. " Austin put his hand over his duly aching head as he tried to process the information that had just so casually been given to him, " Forgive me, but did you say a b-baby? As in my wife is pregnant? "

Dr. Floyd cautiously motioned for a nurse via the window to step into the room to check on Austin who'd gone a bit stiff as a board.

She carefully went on, " Why yes, Mr. Butler. Your wife is in fact nine weeks pregnant. My apologies I thought you knew. One of the friends disclosed the information to EMTs in the ambulance on the way here."

At the sound of her last sentence like a switch had been hit, Austin's head snapped up and he became all too alert now with a twisted expression of fury and chariness being displayed.

It was like he could feel his entire body be stricken tense as he forced himself to ask, " Do you by chance know which one of them that would be? "

—- When Austin entered the new private waiting room the group had been moved to, they had all been too quick to jump up and toward him to form an unintentional circle around the man.

As he looked around at his fiancée's friends he was doing his best to keep his composure.

Never had he ever had any real problems with these people, he knew how much your friends meant to you so ever since they'd all been introduced he'd done his best to at least get to know them all and be cordial. Go to parties, be polite at hangouts, bite his tongue on occasion.

And sure him and Alana had had a couple of tiffs here and there, but nothing the two hadn't been able to uncomfortably fake a laugh about and keep their distance after.

So that's why it was mind boggling to him that after hearing from the doctor herself that Alana knew about your pregnancy this whole time, it was shocking that she'd stooped so low to make the decisions she'd had of keeping it a secret and icing him out.

Breaking Austin's thought process Alex was the first to speak up, " Well..how is she? Is she okay? Lord knows we've been praying." The look she carried was one of pure concern, like her face wouldn't physically be able to rest until she heard the news.

Looking around he could see that her sentiments were shared as everyone also looked on anxiously wanting to hear, " She's okay." Austin spoke followed by a harmony of sighs and deep breaths released , " Doctor said that she'll be on bed rest for the next couple days since they want her to replenish her energy with sleep and meals. She was dehydrated and tired. Thank god she didn't get to hit her head. I'll have to just watch her closely is all at home, but she'll be okay." He explained taking in the relieved facial expressions of everyone, everyone but Alana who instead held a hard look to herself while the two participated in a unsanctioned staring contest.

Austin knew he should have taken the high road and privately addressed the woman, and any other time he truly would have.

Ya' know, acted like the gentlemen his parents raised him to be.

But alas something dark and petty took over him when he seen the look on Alana's face. Anger and resentment pooled through his being. These feelings prompted his next choice, " And as for the baby.." Austin purposefully dragged out.

As if everyone had suddenly been cast in a stop motion picture, all movement ceased and heads all snapped in his direction at a eerily slow pace. Faces of shock and confusion were everywhere.

Beatrice's knees seemed to buck underneath her and Santiago with the help of Phoebe ushered the startled woman into a seat. While Alex looked on rapidly blinking like she'd been punked.

Alex's voice rose above the silence, " Austin. What do you mean as for the baby. Are you trying to tell us that, Y/N. I-is pregnant? "

He ran a hand across his mouth as he could feel himself getting upset, " She indeed is. She's about nine weeks along. Baby is healthy though, thank god." He confirmed, voice still hard. "

In shock Beatrice shook her head not being able to wrap her mind around what was occurring as everyone did the same, " No. no. no. That can't be, right. Austin that can't be right. I mean we would know. She would have told us. Are you sure?" She tried reasoning looking all around the room.

Austin nodded. From their reactions he knew that Alex, Phoebe, and Beatrice couldn't have know. As a actor he also recognized their reactions were too raw. And if Bea didn't know Santiago surely didn't, plus Sprite was only a kid who didn't even live here which knocked her off the board of thought about who knew.

" Well, Bea. That's the same thing I thought until the words came out the doctor's mouth herself. Only thing is she didn't find out from any of the tests. She said that one of Y/N's friends informed the paramedics that she was pregnant in the ambulance." He revealed.

Puzzlement spread across the room on every face but one.

Immediately Phoebe who'd been quiet while trying to process spoke up, " Well that can't be true because none of us knew." She looked around the room at all of her friends hoping that not a soul had kept something like this to themselves. " Right, ya'll? "

" No it is true." He started, " Isn't it Alana." Austin spoke turning his attention to the woman who'd been quiet the entire encounter. To him she'd always had this holier than most attitude about her, but right now she wouldn't get that right with him.

And it rang true, as she held a look of complete casualness to her face. " You were one that told the EMTs that Y/N was pregnant aren't you? I mean it couldn't have been Avery because before I came in here I ran into her. She didn't know anything and she wasn't in the ambulance. In fact she was shocked. Even though she tried to follow the ambulance she got caught in traffic on the way here. After we spoke I told her she could go home and I'd keep her updated. "He revealed.

All eyes were on Alana now, six pairs keen on her.

But still she wasn't going to let anyone see her sweat. Instead she just keep her cool. " I was." She simply stated.

" Lana you knew? " Beatrice's eyes bucked thinking about how a few days ago she'd sat through a whole dinner with Alana and she hadn't said a word. " And you didn't think to say anything?"

" Yes, Beatrice I knew. I was there when she took the test." She stated matter of factly.

A bitter chuckle emerged from Austin, " Of course you were. Isn't that rich." He continued laughing and clapping to himself, taking a seat while everyone looked on in bewilderment.

" Alana when the fuck was this? " Alex questioned flabbergasted and needing to know how long had this been going on. How long had they all been kept in the dark.

Groaning she started, " About three weeks ago when I came to drop off the final details for the Pace book-tour to her/ She'd opened the door and looked like she'd been crying. I mean a downright mess. " She recalled.

" After practically prying it out of her she confessed to me that she'd been upstairs in the bathroom trying to build the nerve to take some pregnancy tests. Said she hadn't been feeling well and that Aunt Flo had been MIA. After she calmed down I offered to stay with her while she took them and the whole time we waited all she did was worry and cry about how scared she was about the whole thing and how this hadn't been in the plans yet." She explained.

Austin recognized the day she was talking about. He'd been out reading some material for Masters of Air and when he'd gotten home that night you'd already been in bed asleep, and weirdly enough it was also the night that you stop letting him hold you.

" After all the tests came back brightly positive I could barely get her to stop panicking. It was horrible. It took about a hour before she partially stopped. She made me promise on my life I wouldn't tell anyone. She felt like she didn't wanna ' inconvenience those around her ' is what she said. From there she worried about what she should do, and I let her know that she had a number of different possibilities to explore. The end." She concluded folding her arms against her chest.

" So that's it. You just agreed with it and encouraged her to go through it all alone." Phoebe scoffed, " Knowing that I- we would have all wanted to be there for her." She corrected herself quickly knowing her emotions were ab out to get the best of her.

" It was her choice, Phoebe. And she wasn't alone. I helped and talked to her often enough. All she ever did was worry about the type of mother she would be and how she was going to raise a child at this point in her life. I did all I could to console her." Alana challenged.

" And how much of it was actually comfort and encouragement rather than added confusion." Alex icily shot out.

" Hey! I encouraged her to do what was best for her. I encouraged her to explore all her options without the interference from others ." Alana seethed.

" Wait? What do you mean encouraged her to explore all her options? What options? " Austin questioned standing up from his seat. His face was stone cold. " What does that mean? "

Again all eyes shifted to Alana.

Still unwavering Alana repeated, " Like I said. I encouraged her to explore all her options. She needed to know that her life didn't have to change if she didn't want it to. Especially if it's not something she really wanted it. I mean why should she have to put a possible end to her career and fall behind in life for something she wasn't a hundred percent sure she wanted. At one point she asked my opinion and I told what I thought would be best. " She shrugged still maintaining her eye contact with Austin.

" Which was? " Alex beckoned her on. " What did you say? "

It was no secret that Alana had no desire to have children whatsoever. In fact the only children she truly tolerated was her friends.

Her most famous line was, " I detest anything that crawls. Bugs, most animals, and most of all, children. Wastes of time and resources."

She believed parenthood was obsolete task.

Tearily looking to the ceiling in distress Beatrice said, " Alana you don't mean you had her consider..." She brought her eyes to search Alana's face for her to dispel what she thought may be true.

But still Alana remained silent. And the silence was almost deafening.

" Alana...look me in my face and tell me you didn't try and tell her that having an abortion was her real best option...say you didn't do that without getting her the proper mental help she needed to make a decision like that.. say it isn't true." Phoebe interrogated with the rest of the weighing silence of the room.

Locking eyes with a teary eyed Phoebe, Alana figured with her being Y/N's best friend and all. She was the only one she felt needed a explanation.

" Yeah I did. It's her body so she should have taken in to account all her choices across the board. Plus she wasn't sure she wanted to be mother. Why go through nine months of uncertainty. Why take such a huge gamble." She confirmed.

At the confession the whole room feel into a chorus of reactions.

Santiago comforted a now crying Beatrice. Phoebe took her leave of absence since she could feel herself getting to a point of unreasonable anger. And Austin had begun slowly pacing the corner of the room while doing his best to piece together what he just heard.

" Oh my god." Alex whispered moving across to the other side of the room. " Oh my god. " She spoke louder. " OH MY GOD." She yelled before turning to Alana. " HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO HER. HOW COULD YOU PROJECT YOUR OWN SHIT ON HER LIKE. THAT." She yelled.

Face twisting in offence she returned the energy, " IT'S HER BODY AND IT'S HER CHOICE." Alana shouted.

" OF FUCKING COURSE IT IS. IT'LL ALWAYS BE HER CHOICE. BUT SHE ALSO WASN'T OBVIOUSLY IN THE RIGHT STATE OF MIND TO TRY AND BE MAKING DECSISIONS LIKE THAT WITHOUT SOME FORM OF HELP OR GUIDANCE. GUIDANCE YOUR BIAS ASS WASN'T GIVING HER! WHY WOULDN'T YOU TELL US SO WE COULD HAVE HELPED?" Alex questioned.

" I WAS GUIDING HER." ALANA screamed, " GUIDING HER TO SEE HER FULL POTENTIAL! YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN HOW TORE UP SHE WAS. HOW SCARED AND MEEK SHE LOOKED. SHE DIDN'T WANNA TELL ANYONE ELSE. WHAT WAS I SUPPOSE TO DO. IT WAS A SECRET."

" YEAH BUT YOU OUT OF ALL OF US SHOULD VERY WELL KNOW HOW SOMETIMES IN A FRIENDSHIP, THE WELL BEING OF THE OTHER PERSON TRUMPS KEEPING A FUCKING SECERT. AND HOW DO YOU KNOW THIS BABY ISN'T HER DREAM! " Alex shot back.

" I KNOW THAT BEING JUNIOR EDITOR IS ONE OF HER DREAMS. AND TODAY SHE TALKED ABOUT THROWING IT ALL AWAY ON A UNSURE GAMBLE IN LIFE. I ENCOURAGED HER TO DO RIGHT BY HERSELF ABOVE ALL ELSE."

" No what you encouraged her to do was not only keep us her family in the dark but more importantly her fiancée because of whatever reason you gave." Beatrice spoke up amongst the yelling. As a mother she felt a certain cord struck inside her at Alana's comments, " And what the fuck would you know about motherhood. Yeah it may be a unsure gamble, but it's the biggest win I've ever gotten out of life. But you wouldn't ever consider seeing it that way because your obsession with wanting to be successful enough to prove people wrong in your life has projected on to others. And i-t's toxic." She finished honestly.

At this Alana felt some of her wind be taken from her. Never had she heard Beatrice speak to someone this way, let alone her. So it not only took her by surprise but to her dismay, it stung.

" I agree. " Spoke Alex calmer now, " I mean did you even stop and consider her life with Austin in all of this?

Holding back tears of her own to look at Austin who remained silent she shifted her gaze back to Alex, " Who gives a fuck about that. ITS HER LIFE. HERS. Everything isn't always about him. And that's exactly why I advised her not to say anything to him until she made a solid fucking decision so he couldn't influence her as always."

Alex and everyone else watched in horror as Austin's head immediately snapped into Alana's direction, but before anyone could intervene his voice carried, " You. " He seethed, " Had ABSOLUTELY no fucking right to try and decide what my wife should and shouldn't be telling me. NO RIGHT! " He expressed pointing a accusatory finger. The tone in his voice made Beatrice and Alex both flinch.

They had never seen Austin the slightest bit upset really, let alone livid. So this was a whole new side of him to see.

But he couldn't help it. Where the fuck did she get off on saying something like that to the love of his life.

Alana's neck curled around to look at Austin shooting him a glance that could out anyone six feet under, " She's not fucking your wife. And she surely isn't your child or someone whose life you can dictate! She has dreams and goals! A-and values! But she's about to throw all of that away! FOR YOU! " She hissed taking strides closer to Austin. " Just because you spent the better part of your last decade long relationship constantly wishing that you'd been with a more housewife material girl. Doesn't mean that you can turn my friend into your little housewife to clean, cook, and shoot all your babies out whenever you so please."  Alana raged.

Beatrice swallowed the sizably growing lump in her throat before cautiously motioning Sprite to and grab a security guard and Santiago to go stand in-between the two. Because she could tell this was not about to go well! She was actually surprised no one had been called already.

She knew Austin could contain himself, it was Alana she was cautious about.

Alex shared the same sentiments as Beatrice, especially because she could practically feel the heat radiating from Austin but still she knew better than to intervene.

Austin's voice became eerily low, " That woman has been my wife since the moment I slipped that damn ring on her finger. To hell with the legality of it!" He paused, " I support, love, and encourage Y/N in everything that she wants to do with every fiber of my being! EVERY-FUCKING THING! So for you to stand here in some self righteous ass pride and accuse me of trying to turn her into some type of " housewife " is fucking ridiculous. Especially when your so called advice damned near almost killed her!"

Santiago tried his best to diffuse, " Hey guys c'mon I think that's enoug-" but his efforts fell silent on their ears.

" But aren't you though. " A sharp laugh escaped Alana, " The Y/N I knew wouldn't have even considered giving up the opportunity to be Junior editor. There's no way. Not after all the work she's put in. So the only fathomable reason there remotely is has to do with YOU! You and your needs and your wants for someone to hold your hand and support you!"

Throwing his head back in anguish as he tried to control himself he went to look at her again with eyes that practically radiated distain, " You know what, Alana. What the fuck is your problem? I mean really what the fuck is the issue because as quiet as its kept you never really liked me in the first fucking place. Which that's fine. I didn't care as long as Y/N was happy, I could tolerate your little slick comments and glares whenever I was around or even brush aside that fact that you once tried to advise her to break up with me in the beginning of our relationship when we were having problems because I know friends always try to do right by each..I guess. " Austin explained.

" But today...I'm not doing this anymore. I need to know what the fuck is your issue! Can you not stand to see her happy that bad? Are you that fucking miserable in your own life that you need someone to wallow with you. Because I'll be damned if I let it be her. " He finished.

Stunned at his outburst the room remained silent expect for Alana who was fuming as tears raced down her face, " Wanna know what my problem is Austin! Like I haven't said it a thousand and one fucking times already! My problem is that you're a distraction and your holding her back from her potential! The success that would truly make her happy! That girl has the opportunity to be excellent and excel in a field not too many people like us get to be in. But she's about to throw it all the way to be some pathetic dull little stay at home housewife without a life for you!" 

As soon as the last part left her mouth Alana was filled with instant regret.

Immediately all eyes surged to Beatrice who was in fact a stay at home mother and wife, but was not dull or pathetic in any way.

She had tears in her eyes and a look of hurt on her face that couldn't be described by any words, " So is that what you think of me, Lana? Huh? That I'm dull and that I don't have a life? Pathetic? " Beatrice questioned through rolling tears.

" Baby..." Santiago immediately reached for his wife.

Alana wasn't able to get a word out to Beatrice as Santiago ushered the poor woman out of the room as she had begun to sob.

Leaving Alex alone in the room with the two where everything had been spilled, she spoke freely, " Shame on you for saying that."  She said with venom behind her words looking to Alana. Before turning to Austin, " And you need to step outside and gather yourself." She pointed. 

Before either of them could form a rebuttal one of the hospital security guards had finally come to intervene and diffuse the situation, " Alright folks I get this is a very tense time and subject for everyone but if we could, why don't we just take it down some notches and go our separate ways to cool off for a bit.

Looking around at everyone Austin felt his chest heaving in anger and confusion. Deciding Alex was right and he was best to leave, he exited going to find a place to talk to someone who he knew could help him see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Leaning against the outside of the building the sound of the dialing tone rang in Austin's ear until he was graced with a voice, " Hello."

" Ash. It's me...you got a minute? "

----=

After having a conversation with his sister who'd come and sat with her baby brother for what seemed like hours. All Austin did after she and everyone else had left was sit and just look at you.

The love of his life and one of the only things that truly mattered to him.

He'd been in love before sure, but for the life of him he couldn't understand how he could love someone so much the way he did you. Because looking at you laid up in a hospital bedlike this was physically making him ill.

He couldn't have imagined what he'd had done if something had been seriously wrong or worse. And he didn't want to either...because the sheer thought was almost too much to bear.

His ponders were interrupted when he heard a faint knock come onto the door-seal.

Looking he could see Phoebe in the doorway with a apologetic smile, " Hey."

" Hey. Phoebe." He responded offering what he could of a content face.

" You got a minute? "

" Of course. Yeah let's do it."

Looking to you once more Austin got up moving to follow her to the hallway.

Once they were both outside Phoebe went to speak but Austin stopped her.

" Please don't." He sighed, "Don't apologize because it isn't your fault. You couldn't have known either." He stated.

At his declaration Phoebe turned to look away at the feeling of dampness hitting her eyelids, she hated crying infront of people, " I'm her best-friend, Austin. I should have seen. I should have noticed. I mean I knew something was off but I just thought it was the normal seasonal depression we all go through. And weren't wasn't exactly around each other as much since we were both busy..but still how did I miss this. Did I let this fall to the back burner? She' s my little sister." She questioned herself.

And it was true. The relationship you and Phoebe had went way beyond the bounds of friendship...you shared a sisterhood.

Nodding Austin understood her frustration, " How could you miss this, huh? I guess maybe the same her fiancée who wakes up and goes to sleep with her almost every night did, Phoebe. It happened. Don't know how her little crafty ass did it it..but she did." " He said letting the realization set in.

Smirking Phoebe laughed, " I'm just dumb founded that she was able to keep up this charade from us all for almost a month..a whole month. Sneaky little...OUU." Phoebe hit her hands together, they both laughed.

" Well not everyone it seems." Austin sighed referring to Alana and his blowout.

She nodded, " Yeah about that." She looked to him, " I'm super sorry you had to go through that. I can't imagine what all of this had to be like. Finding this all out at once and then having her say those things to you..it wasn't right. And I know I can't apologize for her but still...I'm sorry she acted that way." She says really giving him her most genuine empathy. " And I talked to Grace. She didn't know Y/N was pregnant either. Alana didn't even say anything to Grace about it, she had to find out through the phone convo with the nurse. She's pissed."

" She has every right to be. And you're right you can't apologize for her. But Phoebe be honest with me. " He shakily started, " Do all of you feel that way. Like I'm keeping her from her goals or I'm not good for her? " He asked knowing that if he got the dreaded answer he was prepared to do the unthinkable..and set you free if he was holding you back.

Without the slightest hesitation she went, " Absolutely not. No. Never. " She responded shaking her head, " If that were the case we wouldn't have even let you take our bestie out in the first place, trust me." Phoebe alerted. " If anything we feel the opposite. We see that you make her the happiest we've EVER seen her and she adores you just as much as you adore her. You're both disgustingly cute I admit and that's great because we support you two." She set the record straight.

Feeling a brick taken off what he felt like was the weight of the world on his shoulders, Austin nodded, " Thank you for that...but do you think she feels the same way about the baby...happy? " He asked.

Since you weren't awake and he couldn't ask you himself. Austin felt his need to prepare himself for what could happen..what decision you could make. He needed to know how to support you.

With Phoebe being your best-friend of so long he knew that this was as close of a look into your mind as she was going to get right now.

Acknowledging the look of desperation and fear on his face Phoebe started, " Truthfully after what Alana may have said I don't know." She spoke, " But before that what I can say is that whenever we joked around about the two of you having little curly haired chunkers tumbling around she always was so giddy about it. Smiling from ear to ear and shit." She informed making the embers of hope in Austin warm.

" But the one time we had a serious convo about right before the engagement she seemed open and fond of the idea..but in the same breath nervous and scared. And you know why I'm sure." She referenced to your abnormal upbringing.

" I do." He nodded taking in what she said.

Sighing Phoebe grabbed his shoulder, " I don't know. Honest. But not matter what just stick with her. She needs you..alot more than she may let on." Phoebe said.

Smiling small he responded, " Always. Because I need her too..a hell of a lot more than I let on."

#austin butler x black reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler #daysofourlove #angst #themangowrites #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic

[minjoonalist]

Alexithymia. | JJK +18 [ 1 of 3]

Pairing: Demon!Jungkook x Reader 

Rating: Mature +18

Genre: Angst, smut, SoulmatesAU 

Word count: 17.8k

Description: Jungkook always had a pull to you. An unexplainable connection that brings him to your side daily, like a permanent routine. Is it a hobby? An obsession? Or was the centuries old prince just bored? No… boredom doesn’t make his heart race. It’s not supposed to make him lose his own self control, or fill him with blinding rage, and it certainly isn’t supposed to have him hallucinating the strangest things until it drives him back home for answers. Maybe he just cares too much for you and he thought that it’d be better to wait than to give in, but the longer the prince spends his time away, the more he realizes he has absolutely no Idea what emotions have been festering since the very beginning. What if he could just turn them off? 

Warnings: Cursing, explicit language, mentions of blood, near death experience, some good ole fashion violence, mentions of killing, light smut, Eventual smut, hallucinations, Nipple play, pining, a very pissed and jealous Jungkook.

Song Inspo: Pretty- The Weeknd, Waves- Normani, Softcore- The Neighbourhood, Middle Of The Night- Elley Duhe

Author’s note: This will be a mini series of three parts due to the high word count lol Also In no way am I an expert on demons, all of this is from the top of my head or made up honestly. It’s more of an angsty self-indulgent plot to write demon JK for (several months) so please enjoy and if you want leave your thoughts on it as well! :)

Masterlist | 1 2 3

I. Emotional Arousal

He’s pissed, he was blindingly pissed.

He shouldn’t have been gone for as long as he was and it wasn’t like him to be this stressed about you, running around like a mad man on the hunt. 

The problem is… Jungkook, a high ranking demon with much bigger priorities is worried because he isn’t able to feel you anymore. That’s right, the prince could no longer sense the random human girl or her location while he was working and it was driving him crazy. Sneaking off once again like he’s done multiple times to come find you, but you were no longer connected to him. 

“Angel, where are you?” He growls loudly out into an empty space while simultaneously ripping your front door open and trying to ease down the anxiety filling him.

The loud bang of the white wood smacking into the wall would be loud enough to scare anyone half to death, had they actually been inside. But that was the problem, there was no one here- meaning you were lost, out into the night where anyone or anything would be able to get their hands on you. He had warned you plenty of times about the night life being far more dangerous when it came to the ungodly creatures lurking around and yet still the only evidence that seemed to be left of you anywhere in your entire home, was only a slight indication of your sweet almond scent marking everything you touched. 

Your front door, your kitchen, even the hallway that leads to your living room, it's almost as if you hadn’t been here in days.

Wait...

Noticing something completely off, Jungkook opens his nostrils again. His heightened sense of smell takes in an out of place scent as he walks closer into the cozy space of your living room. It was almost so faint that he nearly missed it in his frantic search. However, It's as if he could see it before he smelt it, another aroma rising from one particular spot on your couch, a spot way too close to where you’d usually be sitting and he’d pop in next to you while you were reading one of those pointless romance books.

It's where he should have found you exactly at this time or at least he knew you’d be studying.

Jungkook couldn’t shake it, the other scent wafting up his nose and taking over yours so much that it began to make his stomach sick and he’d hate to ruin your nice creamy carpet, but now that he was thinking about it, the demon couldn't believe he didn't notice the smell from your front door in the first place. It’s everywhere, following him with every step he takes and it’s so hard to place whatever the hell it could be. 

Maybe…it belongs to another person.

He easily concludes this in his investigation, stepping back from the space and glaring at the spot that holds the unwelcomed presence of someone he couldn’t place. Beyond annoyed, Jungkook tries to rid himself of it, needing to badly follow yours and get a sense of where the hell you could have gone off to so late. 

He does exactly that, turning back down your dark hallway that leads towards the jarred door that was the opening of your bedroom. Your scent was strongest here, driving up his nose blanketing him in a sweet cocoon of you. The sensation drives him wild almost every time, reminding the powerful demon of the human he’d randomly taken a liking to while surfacing from his home one day. 

He couldn’t tell you what made him leave it after a total of only 100 years had passed by, considering he was fairly entertained. He just wanted a change of scenery, tired of the same old routine of tortured souls and being confined to miserable ‘yes men’ serving him just to save face. He needed to roam, move around to new places, even if that meant walking amongst the strange and despicable lives of those who still held them. 

Humans.

He’d only been in your realm for a total of two days, before he’d found himself just as bored as being back with his family. 

Nothing excited him, the weather was unpredictable, sunny one second and pouring down on him the next. The humans were rude, ruder than his clan somehow and he wasn’t sure how many times he would have to hold himself back from easily wringing the life out of anyone else who wanted to call him an e-boy- minus the hundreds of girls, who for some reason, kept mistaking him for a random k-pop idol. 

Jungkook planned to leave within the next moments, having had enough for another century or two, until one day he’d seen something or rather someone.

It was you…trying to open your cheap umbrella in the continuous downpour of rain. What compelled him to rush across the street, nearly getting wrecked by three cars to help you, he once again had no clue and he still didn’t to this day, but as if a magnet had been pulling him along, he ignored every alert of the goosebumps rising on his skin while drawing closer.

Without thinking, Jungkook froze getting near you, a deep shock in his abdomen as his fingers connected on yours once he instinctively reached for the contraption in your hold. As if like magic, Jungkook had taken it and fixed it for you- the tall, raven haired male towering your fair height almost twice and holding out the umbrella you’d  damaged trying to open a few minutes prior. 

“Uh- Here...you’re getting wet.” He comments carefully while holding it over your head, though with how drenched you’d gotten, you honestly didn’t need it anymore. 

You would blink up at him, awe struck with wide sparkling eyes as he stood with hard droplets of rain pelting all over him. “Oh! Thank you… you didn’t have to.” 

He’s seen how your eyes roamed all over him in curiosity. All black attire that began to cling to his body, multiple oddly shaped metals pierced into the pale skin of his ears and bottom lip. He has big almond eyes and shoulder length raven hair pulled half way up into a ponytail, or at least from what you could tell as the rain had matted it down to his head.

From the corner of your eye you could vaguely see the small pieces of ink flowing up his neck that you sure lead to the rest of the hand holding out your umbrella.

The intimidating man with the baby face, radiates a powerful aura you’d never experienced from anyone before. It was almost inhuman, as if you were supposed to fall to your knees the second your eyes landed on him. It made your stomach jump and with that goosebumps eroded your skin as well. Bringing in not only an unknown feeling in you, but also filling your soul with unease, as if you were in a horror movie and you’d inadvertently discovered he was the killer.  

Well, you weren’t that wrong…In no way, was he to be considered innocent, hell you’d probably be horrified in learning everything he’d done, but Jungkook never had any intentions to harm you. In fact even as he walks away from you- the demon could very well say that there was not much else he found himself thinking about besides you after that day. Your cute expression with your light filled eyes, your attractive pouty lips pulled into a shy smile as he fixed the object for you and then... the sharp spike of arousal inside of you the moment your eyes had connected and you replied with a simple thanks.

That was the first time he sensed you, your sweet scent punching him in the nose so hard he almost began to feel dizzy and it brought him a new high with a light buzz, also making his vision darken in effect. It was like having a bucket of fire thrown upon him, his own skin and body heating up uncontrollably from his fingers to his toes. He’d never experienced anything like that before and along with that thought came the excitement he'd been waiting for.

Jungkook discovered something new.

Something that made him crazy enough to purposely run into you a week later while you were struggling to carry a few groceries out to your car or even the next two days after that since he couldn’t wait that long, where he ran into you at the mall, standing in front of you at the food court in a coincidental encounter. 

When he thinks about it now it was almost too obvious and he can’t believe you’ve never asked about that...He was really a full on stalker.

Jungkook always thought about you, bringing you up to his brothers and constantly wondering what you were doing or what you were really like in your daily life. It almost took him too long to realize his obsessive behavior, leaving his duties unattended and finally noticing this craving to have you around all the time. It just kept bringing him back, for more and more- until eventually Jungkook had taken the opportunity to get to know you, fully understanding everything about you as a friend.

He didn’t have many friends…at least not human ones. But, apparently he found you. A random girl with a heart of gold and a soul so pure, it’d actually made him question himself on whether or not he should continue on. It probably would have been best to leave you alone, you didn’t need someone like him in your life and especially not if he would only end up possibly corrupting you later down that line.

...Obviously that idea didn’t last too long. 

It was selfish, but Jungkook still came around more often, your small talks turning into heavy conversations. You both began to hang out and eventually you’d begun to notice how much of himself he didn’t reveal to you or that you never knew much of anything about him as he did you and with that, you’d begun to get wary of him. The mysterious man you’d always had a great time being around, seemed a bit too closed off than you would like and to that extent...reluctantly—Jungkook made the risky decision to reveal the most important part of himself. 

Who, or rather what he is.

 Although the demon was well aware, you weren’t ready to see the unworldly elements of his appearance, he still took to showing and explaining to you the bare minimum of him. Somehow, it wasn’t enough for you to believe him and Jungkook wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or disappointed, because the last thing he wanted to do is to show you his true nature when he barely knew you.

Jungkook huffs, shaking his head at the lost memories as he pushes your bedroom door open. Just thinking about the hardships of your rocky beginning had him cringing before stepping inside, searching around for you. 

He still remembers the rough 6 months it took to get you to come back around, how you were skeptical of him at first and figured it was all a joke until you realized how serious the man was. Fear had suddenly become the only emotion you felt for him and you proceeded to think of him as some crazy asshole. 

Much later down the line, Jungkook can understand why you’d think that. 

He then had to admit that as funny as he found it, he was a little hurt when you told him to stay away from you, threatening to call the police if he so much as breathed in your direction again. Jungkook was not put off by this, because even if you did- the 100 year old demon could easily kill them all within the first five seconds of their arrival but of course you wouldn't know that and he’d never want you to.

Jungkook never wanted you to be afraid of him.

It was just strange however, that while you told him such a request, he could still feel your disappointment in the damaging reveal that resulted in the loss of a new friend. But as you requested… Respectfully, Jungkook went away—at least from your eyesight.

 Of course he was still around, the demon couldn’t keep himself away from you even if he tried. It was physically draining at that time and he didn't notice it like he does now. He was always around, watching over you and seeing you interact with others who weren’t him. For the first time in his life, he’d actually experienced sadness. He wanted to talk to you, interact normally with you, and smell that faint scent of yours that used to give him such an amazing high whenever you were together. On the other end, Jungkook wasn’t going to force you and he would wait for you to come around, somehow knowing that on your end...you kind of missed him too.

He just didn’t realize that day would be more than 2 months later and not in the way he hoped.

By then Jungkook had actually gotten busy back at home and while you were still on his mind, he’d grown to always keep another sense for you- which he didn't know he was capable of. Anytime that the demon had crossed your mind- he knew and he saw all of it. Your relieved thoughts wishing him good riddance, your bittersweet memories of the laughs you shared and even a few dreams he’d managed to sneak a peek at. Some of them were formed from your memories, others were concocted from your fears, and the rest-...well lets just say the demon will never understand why your dreams were perfectly timed to stop whenever you and a faceless man had begun to inch too close to each other. Rarely did you ever have them though and sometimes he wondered what could ever be the cause of them…Though, now he has a pretty good idea. 

There was also another sense, one he always hopes you would never have to use again. One day you fell...hard. A terrible accident of you slipping in your shower and breaking your arm while also creating a lethal blow to the back of your head. In fear you laid on the shower floor, hot water spraying over your injured figure and you couldn’t call for help, hell you were barely conscious enough to.

 Jungkook didn't know how, but he could feel it, something was wrong, you weren’t okay and wherever you were, he needed to be there and fast. The whispers slithering around in his head and an unclear image of you popping up behind his eyelids. It could have been from the silent pleas in your head or the pure emotion of terror pulling him to you, but Jungkook had found you, Appearing out of thin air in a steamy blur of your bathroom and ultimately scaring you half to death in your pitiful state. When he found you, he was so horrified that he didn’t pay attention to your scent causing a dangerous reaction to him and his body. 

His vision went dizzy and his mana began to seep from his fingers, but none of that was too big or too important when he was watching you slowly die in front of his eyes. 

He remembers the tears slipping down your beautiful face and mixing in with the red water flowing down—…red…water? The blood, Fuck, you were bleeding so much!

Jungkook could still remember his panic after noticing the crimson liquid being produced from the back of your head- coating the strands of your wet tangled hair. His breathing became labored as something shifted in him and you were still conscious right up to the point where you could see the shocking changes to his features. Deepening veins crinkle around his face connecting to his pitch back eyes…skin turning a sickening gray as his teeth poked to the top of his lip.

You were holding your arm, the life in your eyes dimming out by the second while looking confused and more terrified than ever as you silently pleaded for this not to be your end. You truly thought He was going to kill you and that realization overwhelmed you completely.

 Needless to say you passed out as soon as you saw whatever was happening to him, eventually leaving him in a hasty and awkward situation to gather you up from your position and covering up your bare body. 

Jungkook’s hands shook unknowingly, feeling your life force fade by the second and he moved quicker, suddenly concentrating enough to heal you and bring you back to your normal state. Which actually might’ve been something you would have wanted to be unconscious for, because there was no way you’d want to experience the smoky black essence that had begun to slither out from Jungkook’s hands and into your head. It was never a pretty process, at least not in the rarest of times that he’s had to use it. It pained him to watch you groan and cry in your sleep, but at least they were signs of you still being alive.

It took a lot of his energy to bring you back from the brink of death, but Jungkook did it anyway, exhausting himself in the end. So much that when he was done- the black blood dripping from his nose, he collapsed next to your unconscious form and waited with you, just for a couple of minutes and then he would leave when he felt you were okay.

He overestimated his impulsiveness, those minutes slowly turned to hours as time passed and it was purely unintentional, he couldn’t find it in himself to leave you. The more Jungkook stayed by your side the more he had begun to feel comforted by you and the less he felt panicked by your sudden injuries, nor by the idea that you would slip away permanently.

When you came to, in your bed later that night, you’d tried to write it off as a horrible dream. However it wasn’t and  you quickly came to that realization, because he was still right beside you on your bed, watching you and holding your healed figure so tight you were sure it would eventually cut off your air intake. 

He felt your inner turmoil, the anger, the relief, and another feeling he couldn’t quite decipher. All he knew was that your heart was beating way too fast for him to keep up and that your scent had gotten just a little stronger.

He wondered if you could smell him the way he smells you, reveling in it and inhaling as much as he could before you’d eventually push him away again. He knew it was coming any moment, Jungkook could feel the fear and the confusion, knowing that you were aware of the dull pain emanating from the back of your head and your arm. You still had your memories and it was baffling how quick you came to the realization that absolutely none of that was in your mind and Jungkook was actually something that wasn’t meant to be a part of your mundane life.

Yet, by the look of the crimson blood staining his shirt and your bed sheets…there was some explaining that needed to be done.

Jungkook knew you had many questions and were probably still too shaken up to figure out which one you wanted to ask. Not to mention that he was still the last person you wanted to see, so he didn't mind your uncomfortable state in his arms. It wasn’t until time slowly passed again that he’d heard you speak to him for the first time in months with your actual voice. He couldn’t help but hold his breath to your soft tone, so small and precious…it made him melt inside. 

“The last thing I remember is… my shower.” You hesitate, well aware how much stiffer he’d gotten as it connects to his ears. Jungkook’s body froze intensely from hearing you and although he was excited, he couldn’t bring himself to answer because he refused to think you actually wanted to speak to him. He wondered if that was all you truly wanted to say, still feeling the huge mix of emotions, because you had to have noticed the blood over his shirt.

“Is that…my b-blood?” You had so much fear asking that, lip trembling at the thought as your eyes zoned in on the out of place stain.

 “Unfortunately, it is Angel.” He swallows.

Your eyes water, scoffing at the ironic pet name. “Am I dead?”

He frowns and shakes his head, even though you couldn’t see him. It’s probably best if he answered you honestly. “You… were half dead when I found you. You almost didn’t make it if I hadn’t helped…”

You peered at him lost. “How did you know?” 

 He shrugs with you still in his arms “I heard your voice call out for help, it was so sad that I followed it and… it led me here. I managed to stop the severe bleeding to your head, but your arm may hurt for a couple of days. I’m sorry, I didn’t have enough energy to heal it fully.” He then cautiously explains it to you as simply as he could and you try your best not to let your tears drop in front of him from the recent thoughts. 

“Don’t apologize, I-It's not like you had to help me.” You say more embarrassed than anything.

You nearly died and you were actually saved by a self-proclaimed demon. The same one who’d transformed into something horrifying right before your eyes, but is also holding you close to him for dear life, as if you were his only comfort. 

Jungkook…the man or thing you insulted and told to stay hell away from you and he’s the very reason you’re still breathing. What does he want from you? He didn’t have much of a connection to a random person like you. Is he watching you? 

“I know, but I wanted to.” Jungkook hesitates after another long silence...anxious to ask you something that's got him on edge. “Are...you scared of me?” 

You nod, making his chest burn in response and at the time Jungkook didn’t understand why he cared so much. 

“I was at first when I thought you were here to kill me or that I imagined you before dying.” You sniffle, your weary voice then following. “b-but, I think I’m just confused more than anything. I don’t understand why or how you helped me.”

I don’t understand you. Is what you were truly thinking and Jungkook could very well say the same thing.

You were beginning to think you were going crazy, letting yourself feel safe within his arms and allowing some unworldly creature into your life under that title. But in the moment, underneath all your fears and doubts, you were actually happy to have someone there who cares for your well being-even if he wasn’t human. 

You live alone and your estranged family is miles away from you, making it highly doubtful that no one else but Jungkook could have found you before it was too late. There was no telling what could have happened to you if he didn’t and that thought had stuck with you even within the next couple of weeks that the man had disappeared again.

 There wasn’t much else you’d seen of Jungkook and whether you noticed it, you had begun thinking of him more often once he was gone. He always saw that night replaying over in your mind continuously even while he was too busy with his duties. There were a few times he swore he heard you call out to him again, but every time he ignored his urges. Watching the images of you in his head and keeping a safe distance until he’d heard you again within a desperate rush. 

Why the hell does he keep hearing you like this? And Jungkook never stops himself from following it.

When he found you, this time it was you and your co-worker Min Yoongi being held up by what looks like a hooded man pointing a weapon towards both of you. He could tell you’d just come from work, that hideous uniform making its first appearance to him and he mentally swore one day he would burn it.

Which Jungkook definitely did. Twice.

He takes his time to assess the situation and the look of concern coming to his friend’s face. He really needed to act fast, before it all goes wrong, the both of you being in serious danger. Well at least not for long, not after he’d taken the liberty to come behind the robber too fast for you to comprehend. It didn’t take more than two seconds before the both of you heard a sick crack of the man’s neck, followed by the clatter of his gun. In the next second Jungkook was gone as well as the robber, leaving you and your friend baffled in silence.

“What the fuck was that?” Yoongi frowns, stepping from in front of you to make sure you’re alright. You shake your head feigning innocence while also willing your heart to stop the erratic beating as your mind replays the whir of a tall and dark figure appearing and disappearing with what you assume to be the now dead offender. 

“I don’t think I could give you an answer for that.” You swallow, still processing the moment.

You tried your best to push away the panic after that event, but something deep in your gut was telling you it was possible and for some reason you hoped that was the case. Was that? No way...You would immediately think of only one possibility which of course would lead back to the only abnormal thing in your life and that was Jungkook. 

He saved your life again, you quickly realized and from that moment, there wasn’t a day that passed by and you didn’t think of him. Sometimes he could even feel when you wanted to call out to him again, your questions still left unanswered as to what happened that night and why your friend suddenly couldn’t remember a thing the next day.

As much as he had tried to ignore you like before- your cries had become stronger than ever by the day, beckoning him to you- especially when he’d begun to feel a deep sadness in you as time had passed on. 

Jungkook didn’t like this, he’d never sensed it on you before and it was so strange to feel it from you so often. He’d gone back to watching over you himself, seeing you be so lively in front of all your other friends and masking down the unknown pain you’d been feeling for a while. 

You felt alone.

Apparently you’d felt that way for a very long time. When you were by yourself, he felt your true emotions- even when you took it upon yourself to go out one night to a bar. 

Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from following you, watching in the background once again ( truly not his proudest moments.) and seeing you drink yourself to the point where you couldn’t tell your left from your right. At first he didn't think too much about it until he heard your slurred words leaving softly from your mouth, though they should normally be swallowed by the deep bass of an upbeat song blasting throughout the dark scene.

Jungkook felt his body go cold, your face stricken with despair. It was enough of an image to tug on his emotions, which strangely had been harder to keep a control on. 

He kept on watching you drink consistently, more and more as if you were trying to drown within them. Being drunk wasn’t a good look on you and especially not when so many others were watching you with ill intentions. By others, he means...the rather unmerciful creatures hiding amongst your kind. The ones who could easily be drawn to the purest part of your soul and would then run off with you somewhere else to devour you without batting an eye. 

Unsurprisingly, that disgusting thought had Jungkook caving, knowing any of them could easily be apart of his bloodline.

It had become unbearable to watch you continue on like you did and without much more thought, he’d left from his dark corner, hiding him well within the crowded space. The demon maneuvers around the multiple bodies on the dance floor, making his way across the lively building and heading your way once he’d notice an unpleasant scent of another too close to you. 

Jungkook searched, his enhanced eyesight flitting around the dark scene until he saw it standing beside you and leaning comfortably against the table, blocking any way out for you. A sick grin is plastered on its face as it talks nonsense in your ear and it was disgusting to see the murderous intent hidden well behind its eyes, but not from Jungkook. He could see well within its blood driven thoughts, if not, what would even be the point of his high ranking if he can’t see every move of the underlings.

“She’s mine. Fuck off…” Jungkook growls deeply under his breath in a menacing manner. It's all he has to say to have a horrified look replacing the creature's smug expression. 

Those murderous eyes, flit around the room and towards him with nothing but fear dancing behind it’s pupils. He’d barely put any effort or authority in the command, but it had heard him enough as if he was standing right beside it. Jungkook’s dark essence encased the creature within it’s head and it swore it nearly saw the prince ripping the life from its body.

Just like he wanted…honestly they always had the weakest minds to access.

The creature had conveniently taken the form of an attractive human male, most likely looking for its next meal. He didn't give a damn what it had planned for you but what he does know is that if it isn’t gone by the time he was walking up to you- the creature would never have a chance to blink before Jungkook would have fulfilled exactly what was seen in it’s head.

The creature was smart when it took off afterwards. It disappeared within the next second, no questions and especially no hesitancy within the prince’s presence. You’d frown, wondering where the random guy had run off to, before a familiar scent of mint burned strong in your nostrils and your blurry eyesight was able to make out a familiar face standing right beside you out of nowhere.

“Boo.” He whispered and your body was stiffening. Suddenly you could hear your heart beating rapidly in your ears and it felt as if someone had knocked all the air out of you as you flinched back.

“Jung-kook…?” He could barely make out through your grumbled pronunciation.

He sighs at the unfortunate situation. “You should be home, Y/n-”

Before he could finish, you’re letting out a strange giggle that was swallowed up by your extreme intoxication. Your eyes half lidded when you slam your hand down to make your point and you swung it towards him. “You are wat-ching me. I-I knew it…I felt it.” 

He grimaces from the hearty burp following those words and the redness of your eyes staring somewhat in his direction. Of course he was watching you, he never stopped …and you knew that? You couldn’t have.

 “Y/n, how many do you see of me?” Jungkook goes on to ask, waving an inked hand in front of your eyes that you definitely weren’t following.

You then squint as if you were thinking hard about the question. “Ummmm...di- you always h-have a twin?” You hiccup.

The man suddenly frowned under all the ruckus and music...There was no way you were getting home without him.

 How are you suddenly this reckless?

Irritated, Jungkook grabs your hand without warning and leads you out of the area with haste, before anyone or anything could target you again. He then leads both of you out of the club and onto the sidewalks of the dark, empty street. 

You tried your best to keep your stomach down, groaning as the big scary man walked both of you out of sight and into a dark alley beside the busy building.  Thankfully you were too drunk to comprehend much, that meant Jungkook didn’t have to go through the miserable task of walking you home. Instead, all he had to do was keep you beside him- an arm grabbing you and pulling you so close, anyone would assume both of you were just an average couple. 

You two are most definitely not…well you were pretty normal, Jungkook was the one that just couldn’t stay away from you. 

He doesn’t know if it was because of how pissed he was or maybe he was just too focused to pay attention to your heartbeat speeding up from the close proximity, but he definitely missed your audible gasp from the move.

It clearly didn’t matter, the one goal he had for that night was to make sure he got you home safe. Which, technically... he did- but it wasn’t as quick and simple as he’d foolishly hoped it would be.  

The only way to describe your sudden transition, would be as if the both of you were just walking casually down the alley way of the city and when he hugged you closer, a two second blur passed over your eyes and you were suddenly walking through the entrance of your apartment. There was no sound, no sparkles or magical effects to signify the inhuman move...just him.

Jungkook immediately removes himself completely from you, stepping away to another part of your living room as if he couldn’t stand to be any closer. 

“Go to bed.” He then suggests, with a somewhat disappointed gaze. 

Somehow... that hurt both him and you to say.

You pout suddenly trying to sober yourself up and you didn’t want him to go away again. You wanted to know more, you couldn’t understand why when you shut him out and clearly wanted nothing to do with him.

“ But I-...you...?”

Normally there would have been more fight in you from the command, but with the after effects of all those drinks, your body felt as if it was ready to shut down any moment.

Even Jungkook could sense your low energy, watching your uneven stance  as you were swaying side to side but ultimately trying to keep yourself awake enough to say something to him. The man was seriously starting to question why he even had such a strong pull to you- but the second he noticed your body swaying a bit too far for his liking, all those thoughts had shot out the window. 

 Jungkook had sprung forward from the distance he tried putting between both of you– catching you within  unreal speed before your entire body could collide with the floor. Instead you had landed safely within his arms, the man groaning in exhaustion that he now had to walk with you all the way to your bedroom, because there was no point using up more of his energy to teleport both of you there when it was only a few feet away. Still, it was never supposed to go this far and you definitely weren’t supposed to meet him again after the last time he helped.

Why were situations like this becoming so damn hard?

It was too late to make sense of it, even in your intoxicated state and you’d just be dumb to think this was a dream. Jungkook, a man who is a demon...and has saved your life so many times that it might as well be a cliché, had taken you home from his own volition and brought you to bed with absolutely no complaint. 

Towards the very end of that encounter, once again you’d managed to thank him like before, drowsy, half-way conscious. You then panicked because when you finally had the opportunity to see him again, You blew it. Drowning yourself in alcohol to avoid the obsessive thoughts you always had of him and the small hunch in the back of your mind telling you that he is always near. 

He’s not dangerous...in-fact you’d know better to think he actually cares about you, but Jungkook didn’t know that you were beginning to understand that, putting your theory about him watching over you to the test and Jungkook had passed with flying colors. 

Meanwhile Jungkook, feeling stupid enough to let you see him again, was ready to leave as fast as possible. He remembers setting you down gently onto your bed and slightly missing the feel of your body in his arms, but it was a small emotion that he could easily bury to the back of his mind. He was ready to let go and maybe even ignore the odd pull to you once and for all until something soft had grabbed weakly for his hand when he’d begun to turn away.

Again, he overestimated his impulsiveness.

He flinches in the process, his guard crumbling so easily and he’s looking down towards his wrist to see you staring up at him with those wide starry eyes he’d first met you with. 

“Please…stay.” Jungkook’s face screwed up in confusion, you were barely able to finish that last sentence before slipping into unconsciousness and letting him go as you passed out with slumber. 

Stay? No, absolutely not. He shouldn’t– he can’t…Jungkook won’t.

He breathes in, encouraging himself to leave and to move his feet, but that never quite worked out. In-fact Jungkook has become comfortable watching you sleep peacefully, your dreams of a faceless man again coming up and he watches them like a movie. Your smile bright as ever, leaning into someone with raven cropped hair and a toothy smile. You both looked perfect together and some part of him envied that even while it wasn’t real.

He’d laid beside you, plenty of space apart, going over every last feature and detail of your face. He was content, the bored void inside him faded and Jungkook never realized how dangerous that feeling was so easy to become addicted to. 

He didn’t know that's where it all began.

Skipping over the next few months of your developing friendship, Jungkook had begun to pop in and out more often whether you wanted him to or not- kind of like this moment and after the past few years, You’d gotten accustomed to it, no longer jumping out of your skin at the sight of a gorgeous demon appearing in your home or at your side to talk to you at any moment. You’ve grown to not be scared of him, you wholeheartedly trust Jungkook with your life and he could say the same. Spending hours of your free-time together, talking and teaching him about the latest trends or simply enjoying each other's presence.

You became a safe haven for him. When Jungkook was stressed, he came to you, when he’s tired he comes to you, and if he was just bored from working…he spent the rest of his time with you. Under all that consistency, there's no one else who could bring him the same kind of peace. He respected you and cared for you, but at some point Jungkook knows it’s grown to be more than that.

 He loves having you around, it’s exhilarating every time, making his heart beat faster than usual and he had to admit the thought of your body against his brought unspeakable, filthy ideas to his mind, but Jungkook had never entertained the idea of truly being with you before and maybe that was because of his inability to think you’d never want to be with anyone else than him. 

 Clearly that had changed.

He realizes that maybe he’d taken that thought for granted, because he really doesn’t want anyone other than you. He’s definitely unable to skip the idea of confessing to you the second he sees you, thoughts of knowing someone was here not too long ago, sending him into a fearsome state and if that wasn’t enough then maybe it was also the pure anger that he couldn’t only smell you anymore but that putrid scent he was beginning to loathe. The mixed smells waft around your bedroom and it’s enough to almost have him losing control, because no one else should be able to touch you.

You are his and his only-... wait, no you’re not…you’re actually just friends, because Jungkook is a dumbass who never made his move. Still that didn’t mean he couldn’t hope you weren’t sleeping with other people.

It feels like Jungkook was walking on a thin line- balancing himself from tipping over. Too much is going through his head, his jealousy and anxiety on your well being confusing him more than ever. Something about this situation is completely off to him and he was more possessive than usual, so worked up that he can’t seem to let himself feel any different as if an invisible force was playing around with him. 

Jungkook can’t think straight.

“I’m getting too worked up over nothing. We’re just friends.” He whispers silently to no one, feeling as the mana lowers as well as his anger. The only problem is, it feels like his body won’t listen to him anymore.

Trying one more time, Jungkook begins to think of you. He closes his eyes, taking in a long breath as the whispers in his head begin to fill the silence. He focuses on them, a blurry vision attempting to get a hold of his usual connection to you, only to fizzle out moments later with no progress. Jungkook goes back in again and tries so hard to reach you, that the energy from it actually triggers a freakish spark to your room and hallway lights, dimming them out completely and leaving him there pitifully within the dark silence.

He never thought feeling nothing could ever be so terrifying. 

Suddenly, his chest begins to tighten and he can't breathe as something overcomes him. A highly noticeable sharpening comes to his vision as Jungkook lets out a powerful wave of frustration. In the dark, while his eyes are being covered in pitch black, the veins in his face surface with the same color. His skin then turns a lighter shade of pale gray and immediately Jungkook panics, closing his eyes briefly before shutting them tight then intaking a deep breath of air.

If you came, you wouldn’t want to see him like this…then again, what if you had someone else with you and you were still with them? What if you brought him back and Jungkook lashes out at him, you’d definitely hate him afterwards. Fuck, his thoughts just went in a huge unreasonable circle.

He shouldn’t be this possessive, but something was clearly telling him otherwise. Jungkook just can’t shake those thoughts. He doesn’t want you to be scared of him again.

You’re allowed to hang with others besides him and Jungkook knew that, you were never alone-albeit you did have few friends including Yoongi, but you were still a highly likable person. He didn’t have the right to question who you were into, but damn if it didn’t have him seeing red or better yet-black at the possibility, especially being that he has absolutely no idea who it could possibly be.

He opens his eyes as his vision begins to get back to normal, his gaze landing on the small but open space of your bedroom. 

Like many times before he’s seen the familiar baby pink shade to your walls, the various bots of random plants he had no clue the purpose of. The cute white vanity on one side of the room and a tall glass mirror on the other where he constantly finds you getting ready. Lastly in the middle- your neatly made up queen sized bed with cream sheets, a thousand plushies and too many matching baby pink pillows to count. He’s seen all of this before and even laid there with you while watching some kind of princess movie called Disney? Whatever, that's not what's important right now and it's not like he was actually paying attention anyway.

Not with you so close to him.

Jungkook couldn’t seem to get the image out of his head- the memory of both of you cuddled together, his arms wrapped securely around your waist and you lying comfortably on his chest as the light from the screen highlighted your soft features in your sleep. A feeling of absolute content washes over him and there was nowhere else Jungkook would rather be than there. He loved the position mostly because it allowed him to feel your heartbeat, and more so the way it would speed up or skip whenever you felt him shift under you as if you were hyper aware of his very presence. It was the kind of feeling where Jungkook would actually think maybe he had that same effect on you like you did him- except you just never showed it and you were surprisingly good at it for someone whose mind is easily accessible. 

Though there have been times where Jungkook would get a glimpse of your thoughts and he had to admit, the shocking images that would randomly sprinkle in once in a while of him—he would immediately regret ever taking a look, abruptly springing up and removing you from him to hide his sudden horniness.

You can’t imagine how frustrating it is for him, when you’re showing him thoughts like that, but he can’t sense your feelings towards him and he gets even more antsy when he can't sense you at all.

Just like this moment.

Jungkook hasn’t seen you in almost an entire month, part of that mostly being the prince’s fault. He’d gone home, a while back, atoning for his neglect over his reign. It was only right, leaving to attend to important matters and clearing whatever he had left undone. However, was that really the only reason? 

Jungkook felt like a coward. Shame entering his chest whenever he found himself around you before that. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, a strong urge inside him whenever he gets too close to you. He’ll never know what triggered this strange behavior, but he does remember the exact day it had begun.

1 year and a few months…

He came just before you did, hearing you huff out a weary breath as you stepped through your bedroom door. When you do, your eyes instinctively scan the space, not disappointed when they fall towards your bed to find your friend waiting in a very comfortable position against your headboard like always.

You pause to adjust, a line coming over your lips to hide your tired smile at the scene of him playing with your pink bunny plushie. In a way, it oddly reminds you of him- cute, but mischievous as he tosses it in the air and catches it to bend the arms gently.

for some reason he always chooses that specific toy.

“You know. If you like Cooky so much you can keep him.” You say walking in further and bending forward to slip your nude heels off of your feet to get comfortable. “I mean he’s practically your twin, except with all the redeeming qualities of course.” 

Jungkook’s eyes snap from the little character and over to you as if he hadn’t been expecting you to walk through the door. You knew he could sense you very easily, so you doubt he didn’t hear you arriving home on a Sunday afternoon. 

You were right, however, Jungkook could always tell when you were close and that was because he could always hear your thoughts whispering to him at random. Like how relieved you were to see him after a long day of faking your social life with a group of your old college classmates you clearly didn’t care for. 

What Jungkook wasn’t expecting, was to see you walking in with a much different attire than he was used to…

“Just because he’s fluffy and incredibly handsome  doesn’t mean you get to compare him to the original.” You hear him say while also hearing movement from your bed as he shifts to face you.

You turn to make a face at him. “He is the original.”   

Jungkook fakes being hurt with a hand to his chest and then tosses Cooky down, back into the spot you had him before. He watches you silently with a curious gaze, as if thinking hard about what he’s seeing and you realize that the second he looks your way, he hasn’t looked anywhere since. That was evident enough when you walked over towards your mirror only to meet his unwavering gaze in the reflection. 

He gives you a once over, face blank of any thoughts and you’re silently trying to distract yourself from the way it had begun to make you squirm. They follow slowly down your back, arching a brow when your dress stops only a few inches above mid-thigh. 

 “I’ve never seen you in a dress like that before.” He comments, but from his expression you can’t tell whether it was good or bad. 

It was definitely good.

“That's because I only wear it when there's actually people around to impress.” You tease and Jungkook then hears you clear your throat from his silent response. Your arms reach up and bend back attempting to unzip the back of the fitted silk dress when a nervous thought enters your head. 

Your fingers were beginning to fumble, suddenly feeling under fire from the Judging gaze and it was strange, because you never truly cared whether or not anyone had approved of the way you looked. Apparently, that kind of mentality didn’t matter when it came to the prince. Then again, nothing about your friendship was normal since the beginning.

After attempting to unzip for an embarrassing amount of time, your eyes are meeting Jungkook in the mirror again, an amused smile being held back as he nibbles on his lip ring from your clumsiness.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” You ask slightly annoyed.

“No, don’t mind me. I’m just watching you at your most impressive.” He nods while folding his arms, feigning innocence. 

You’re immediately rolling your eyes, landing on the inky bulge of his bicep under the oversized black graphic tee. You then realized the kind of rockish look he’d gone for- his long hair, styled half-way back as usual and he was also wearing a pair of black cargos bunched at the chunky soled boots.

He then arches a brow, patiently waiting for the inevitable. You frown, not at him, but more so to yourself for noticing. “Shut up and just help me already.” 

“I didn’t say anything…” He chuckles with a shrug.

“You didn’t have to.” You then grumble as your face heats up. You honestly have to stop giving him opportunities to let his arrogant side through. It feels like the longer you know him, the more aware you’re becoming of it.

Jungkook suddenly laughs, moving to stand from his position when he decides to put you out of your misery. Honestly, it was really easy to get you flustered sometimes and Jungkook always enjoyed that a little too much. 

Suddenly, when he prepares to take a stride towards you, something shakes Jungkook to the pit of his stomach. He’s only one step in when his world turns abruptly and the laugh begins to die on his lips from your reaction.

What…the…?

You didn’t notice his sudden expression within the mirror, dipping your head low to allow access at the top and under your hair while also hiding your slight embarrassment. 

Something had reached Jungkook’s nose…your scent…He- can smell you again, but it’s different. This time it's incredibly strong, wafting into his senses as he takes a step forward and Jungkook frowns  from the odd amount. Each breath becomes labored when he comes closer to your awaiting figure, trying his best to play it off in his hazy state. It was like inhaling a poisonous gas, except every pull became more addicting than the last and Jungkook felt like he was losing more of himself within it.

You’re completely clueless, staring off to wherever your mind has gone, probably keeping yourself preoccupied with whatever wasn’t Jungkook. Meanwhile, his body was becoming  exceptionally hot stepping behind you and he held his breath, casually reaching for the lodged metal trapping you within the soft material of such a beautiful dress.

A sudden image of him taking it off of you comes to him and he frowns from the rush of the sight- adrenaline flowing through his hands. Where the hell did that come from? He thinks a bit worriedly and brushes it off as fast as it had come. Jungkook then tries to focus and fiddles with the zipper, successfully freeing the material that was caught in between and on accident, exhales in relief only to breathe again. 

Now, Jungkook felt really weak.

 A light buzz fills his head when he allows himself to smell again. Something within his vision then blacks out, causing him to blink multiple times as his eyes darken in effect to adjust. He grips to pull on the object fully until he’s mildly aware of the sudden movement within your reflections. At first it’s too subtle, but his hyper senses had his skin prickling with unease and there's suddenly a deep chill up his spine.

Jungkook tenses further, slowly looking up to find that you’re staring straight into his eyes un-moving and almost lifeless. He’s stuck, unable to free himself of whatever creepy trance your pointed gaze had him in and all the heat within his chest had begun to move down into the pit of his stomach- creating a fierce hunger inside. 

“Is something wrong?” You tilt your head, a strangely confident look flashing in your eyes as if you were silently taunting him. Your face hides an unknown emotion, egging him on to continue and its shocking shift from your personality before. Almost terrifying. 

“Jungkook-?”  

His heart nearly plummets from the way you say his name.“-No everything is fine.” He barely mumbles, unable to look away within your stare. 

 “Then why did you stop?” You ask, interrupting him. To Jungkook your voice sounds much different. Thicker and lower as if you were purposely making it that way and completely different to the normal lightness it usually had. 

“Should I keep going?” He asks, confused.

 It feels like a strange tension had fallen over the both of you so suddenly and with the way Jungkook couldn’t ignore your sensual pull, his breath is once again caught, watching you cutely bite your bottom lip and say.

“Touch me…”

When those words fall from your lips, your eyes are slowly being  covered in pitch black as your innocent smile turns into one of seduction. He notices by the way you both stand there closer to each other, how much your chest had begun to rise harder and there was no mistaking the lust behind your intentions.

This can’t be real.

A desperate look then falls over your face and expression becoming hooded, making his own eyes widened in shock. He then flinches, eyebrows dipping when your body inches closer to his.

“Y/n? Fuck, why are you looking like that?” Without thinking, he lifts the inked hand, pressing to the middle of your back and holding down the silk material- but something stopped him from moving, like a red siren flashing back and forth inside his head. 

He swears it was meant to hold you in place, but the contact of you against his hand burns, shooting all the way up his arm.

“Please, Jungkook.” Your hands fall onto the mirror in front of you, purchasing there while moving your ass back onto him impatiently. You were then pressing your thighs together, a fucked out expression on your face that he’d never seen on you before.

Why does this turn him on? He shakes his head, but the movement feels like he hasn’t moved an inch. However, that soon becomes another case when he’s moving again. Like a mind of its own, Jungkook’s hand slowly began to lower the zipper without his doing, it was like he was having an outer body experience.

He breathes harder, watching the peaks of your soft skin as your dress slowly begins to unravel from your torso and he’s pretty sure he’s harder than ever- stifling a groan as your ass rubs against his crotch, burning him wherever the both of you touch.

He couldn’t think, slowly giving in to your soft whimpers whispering within his ear and your dress was beginning to fall down further, revealing the swells of your breasts. Your nipples are hard against your bedroom’s air, the visual tipping Jungkook closer over the edge and he can’t help himself but to do exactly what you’d asked of him.

“Touch me now Jungkook.”

“Okay.”

This shouldn’t be happening. Jungkook’s body was bending to meet yours, his hands slipping forward and underneath what was left of the silky material covering you. Instantly, he hears your voice coated in sugar as a moan falls past your lips, feeling his large inked hands palm your chest and pressing your back into him.

His mouth instinctively lands to the column of your neck, your head leaning further to allow him full access and Jungkook takes advantage of it, placing wet kisses here and there, sucking as his hands begin to knead at your supple breasts. He tugs at your nipples, hearing a squeak from your end and feels his mouth water, wondering what you would sound like if he was actually fucking you in this moment. Would you scream his name if he had his cock buried inside you, your hands gripping his hair between your legs?

He wants to experience all of it, the dark desire of ripping off your panties and rolling his hips against your ass over and over just so he could watch the both of you in this mirror until you were cumming around him with only his name in your mouth.

“Jungkook...it’s too hot.” You’re gasping, arching your back and he loves the way it falls helplessly from your lips, so gentle and sweet.  

Jungkook feels one of your hands reaching back for his hair, fingers searing his scalp as they tangle within it. He nips, sucking on the skin and biting down as a shiver racks through you. 

 “I’m fucking burning.” He agrees and continues through the sweet burn of your skin on his mouth, trailing behind your shoulder and down your spine- listening to the sweet melodies of his name coming from your mouth just as one had starts to leave your dress and caresses up the skin of your inner thigh.

So close, he’s so close to feeling you and he didn’t know he wanted to this much.

“Jungkook, please.” 

“Yes, Angel.” He gives a kitten lick to the small of your back, fingers finally reaching towards the top as he was nearly drooling to tug your dress off. 

Just a little more–

“Jungkook?” You frown at your daydreaming friend.

“—Huh?” As if suddenly jolting awake, Jungkook sees you lift your head with innocent eyes, nothing compared to what he’d just been through in the last few seconds. Your scent isn’t as strong to him as before and you were definitely still fully clothed, waiting patiently for him to unzip the back of your dress just like before.

What? How did he get right here? His heart races to understand.

You scoff. “Were you seriously not listening to me all this time?”  

Jungkook’s mouth opens slightly, speechless when you’re rolling your eyes in the reflection as a playful glare makes its way onto your face. “If this is your way to act cute from what I said, it’s not working. Are you going to unzip me or am I going to have to call Yoongi over to help?”

Jungkook tries his best to recover, unable to form any words or thoughts after whatever was just imagined in his head. He had you, your breasts, your body writhing within his hands, begging for him and none of that was real- but it sure as hell felt like it. The worst part is that he suddenly really wants it to be and there's no denying it from the slow tightening in his pants.

Jungkook then releases a shaky breath, trying to come up with any kind of solution as to why he saw that, but nothing comes to mind. All he knows is that he wants to get far away from you as possible right now.

He clears his very dry throat. “Sorry, something came over my thoughts. What were you saying?”

Jungkook watches your eyes snap to him again in a blank stare, instant fear shaking him to his core at the Deja-vu of the gaze. This is until you had a beautiful smile gracing your features and your eyes shining like stars instead of that chilling black, showcasing a smug humor within your gaze along with a small amount of something behind it.

A different emotion Jungkook would continue to push down from then on, but first he needed a long and cold shower.

He feels utterly helpless.

What kind of a dumbass leaves for an entire month and can’t find the one person who anchors them to the closest thing they could call love. Your connection to him was too weak to track. It made him worry, like a dark cloud was falling over him without seeing you as much and he’d almost begun to feel the emptiness of his existence again.

He suddenly sighs to himself in the middle of the silent room, but he was sure there was nothing silent about the way you actually had his emotions bouncing off of the walls. Jungkook still couldn’t control his anger and he definitely couldn’t shake the dark paranoia of you being with someone else while he was gone. 

Is Jungkook too late? Did he miss his opportunity too many times?

The man had been gone for a while...but, at least he warned you first. He actually took the time out of his day to tell you that he would be going back home for a few days. 

Then again, those days slowly turned into weeks and the weeks turned into a full month of no communication, because at some point those thoughts of you had begun to feel so real and with no warning. They were uncontrollable and Jungkook figured having some time to himself could help, but that's his fault because he blames himself for ignoring his growing feelings. 

Now he just couldn’t control them…

“...Jungkook?” 

 The black blood inside of his veins freezes over his body as the familiar voice of someone that wasn’t you, sounds within the thin walls of your bedroom, followed by a very familiar scent. He doesn’t want to turn around, even with his high level of mana but odds are he would be greeted with someone he didn’t want to see and now really wasn’t a good time.

Not while he couldn’t think. 

“Hyung, what are you doing here?” He asks hesitantly. 

“What do you mean what am I doing here? I’m checking on you as always.” The silver haired King speaks up from his stance. “I hope you have a good reason to be standing in the middle of your girlfriend’s bedroom, aren’t you supposed to be home right now?” 

“She’s not my girlfriend.”  Jungkook slowly turns his head, his back stiffening in effect of his anger still residing within him. Right there within his smaller stature Min Yoongi’s coal black eyes stare away at the Demon’s face.

 The shorter, but much stronger man walks in skeptically and Jungkook doesn’t say anything, while staring at him like a wounded animal in the dark. “You can spare me the consistent bullshit on how you’re just friends with her for once. I watch over the both of you all the time, I’m not dumb Jungkook.” 

As if he’d just noticed something odd, Yoongi feels a powerful surge completely out of place and radiating from his tortured friend. It’s almost enough to have his full body going on alert, his concentration centering on one conclusion and Yoongi isn't sure how he couldn’t have sensed Jungkook before he got here. 

“You-…why do you look like you’re ready to rip someone’s throat out?” He then points out, not as a question but more of a statement. 

“Because I am.” Jungkook turns towards him. He breathes, trying to get a grip on himself for his friend’s sake. “I came here to see Y/n, but I can’t get a handle on her. I’ve been getting this terrible sense that something is wrong and…I can’t feel her anymore.”

“You want to see her looking like that?” Yoongi points to him as a scowl comes to his face. Jungkook’s eyes were pitch black, skin pale and fingers shaped into claws. He looks like a creature straight out of a horror movie. Not to mention, that Yoongi can sense a ridiculous amount of Malice coming from his friend. “...-I don’t think that's the best idea right now.”

 Jungkook stares at him lost. “Why not?”  

“You mean besides the murderous energy around you? Or was your deformed figure not enough of a giveaway?” Yoongi asks with an arched brow.

“Hyung. I'm just trying to think.” Jungkook replies.

“Think about what? How not to look like you’re ready to slaughter your girlfriend? You can barely control your thoughts, let alone your body.” Yoongi seems to ignore what Jungkook had just told him- concern uncharacteristically filling his eyes as the room grows incredibly colder, literally. “Jungkook how long do you think you can keep this up? If you go see her while you’re like this, there's a good chance she won’t be safe.” 

Yoongi could then see all of Jungkook’s energy rolling off him in unnatural waves, the dark aura slithering and seeping out of his body all around your room. Even he isn’t sure he’ll leave here unscathed, realizing he stepped into a complete shit show…Dammit Yoongi might actually be too late.

“Relax. I’m pissed, not blood thirsty. ” Jungkook clips, a frustrated hand running through his long raven strands as if he was feigning, Yoongi could tell it was quite the opposite.

He then scoffs, “We both know that doesn’t mean anything when it comes to someone like her. She’s not one of us Jungkook, with the state you’re in- you’d be lucky if you don't consume her within the first minute.”

Jungkook’s stomach suddenly churns from the fear firing within the pit of it, chest puffing from the irritation that the man across from him was causing. He inhales deeply, the image of your face coming to his head and somehow that not only calms him, but makes him even more frustrated than before.

He’s aware of the possibility within his control, but there was no way he was going to get any work done if he couldn’t tell whether you were actually safe or not. All he’s been able to concentrate on is you, even though he wasn’t around you for an entire month.

So in conclusion his distance from you has only made things a lot worse.

Jungkook finally huffs in denial. “I wouldn’t think about hurting her.”

 “Then why do you suddenly look so afraid?” Yoongi steps closer warily. “You’re losing control of yourself, aren’t you? You should have listened to me last time when I suggested you go see Hoseok. Instead, you keep brushing this off…sooner or later you won’t be able to. ”

Yoongi isn’t dumb and he knows how badly Jungkook wants to see you, but he can’t let that happen, at least not yet while Jungkook wasn’t in control of himself. The man doesn’t realize how big of a mess he’s made, not only for himself- but for you as well and as infuriating as it is, Yoongi is trying his best to diffuse the situation before he has to explain to everyone how he let the youngest member destroy his only relationship.

Jungkook exhales, attempting to release some of his anger once again, but it feels like nothing is working. Not only that, but the more Yoongi tries to convince Jungkook, the more he’s finding this entire situation so odd and completely infuriating. He just wants to see you, that's all and he can control himself, he's sure of it…so why the hell is it such a big problem? “I look like this, because I don’t know where the hell she is. Hyung, if you’re going to make things worse, just leave.”

“Well you may not remember this, but you already dragged me into your petty situation. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t taking that seriously, unlike you I take care of my responsibilities Jungkook.” Yoongi deadpans the obvious. “You wanted me to protect Y/n, this is me doing that...Even if its from you.”

Jungkook sighs dismissively as something begins to thin in his patience. 

“You don’t have to protect her from me. What part of this seems like I don’t care? Because as far as I am concerned- there's nothing more important to me than seeing her and witnessing with my own two eyes that she’s safe and not out there with some random asshole.” He spits with a nasty venom at the thought, his calm façade cracking with a wild look. 

It’s not like his friend couldn’t tell how he was really feeling anyway...

“-What?” Yoongi blinks before narrowing his eyes as he tries to come to terms with what he just heard. “What do you mean by random exactly?”

Jungkook pauses from his mistake and he curses himself. “N-Nothing. Just forget it.” 

He can’t concentrate the more Yoongi talks to him and as much as the king doesn't want to be affected, he can’t help his own confusion from Jungkook's behavior…he seriously thinks you’ve moved on from him?

“Jungkook, please don’t tell me you’re here right now because of your possessive impulse to Y/n’s life.” Yoongi asks in a desperate manner and trying to mask his own sudden anger.

“If I say no will you go away?” He rolls his pitch black eyes in return.

Yoongi frowns bemused. “We both know I can't make it that easy.” 

Jungkook then sighs, turning completely away from him, but Yoongi refuses to let him brush over this.

 “Look I don’t know what the hell is going on in your head but one thing I highly doubt is that Y/n is seeing someone else- I would know. Not to mention that you’re the one who left for a month and apparently you both aren’t dating.”

“I didn’t have a choice.” Jungkook replies, but he purposely ignores the other part of what was mentioned. He knows that you’re not together, but that reminder always seems to stir something crazy in him every time.

“You do now...Jungkook, You've been coming here for years straight. Everyday you spend either with her or waiting to speak to her and you’re so blinded by the thought of her you can’t even tell what you want anymore. You don’t find that slightest bit odd, your deep obsession with her in your life constantly?” He then steps forward and Jungkook’s chest rises harder as his right eye twitches. “You can obviously see the way you feel about her, what I don’t understand is what made you so damn scared that you’re driving yourself mad because of it.” 

Jungkook’s eyes go cold, clearly beginning to tune Yoongi out, but his words hit a nerve way too delicate, setting off an unwanted reaction in him.

“Fuck off.”  Jungkook clips as he inhales.” I don’t need you to play therapist Hyung.” 

Yoongi frowns standing strong, watching something flash within Jungkook’s eyes. 

“There it is, That same fear you keep ignoring. That's the cowardice that sent you running home weeks ago. If you’re going to keep on this way, you might as well–” Before Yoongi could even finish his remark, the next thing he knew, there was a booming smack to his back-knocking the air out of his chest and a thunderous crack of your bedroom’s wall. 

“Fuck-!” The King growls out in thunderous anger and pain before his fists are balling up and his patience for Jungkook was quite literally knocked from his body. “So this is the route you want to take? Fighting me so you can keep ignoring your problems?” He suddenly stands from his position- glaring daggers at Jungkook as his eyes turn to an endless void of black- mana stretching unbelievably from his body.

“You keep pissing me off, so that makes you a problem to deal with.” Jungkook only seethes in return and the two have a lethal stare off. Neither of them calming from their chaotic temper.

Yoongi swallows the blood wanting to rise in his mouth. He motions towards Jungkook- beckoning him with an invitation. “Don’t forget that this problem can easily kick your ass. Try me.”

Before Jungkook knew it, he was once again lunging towards Yoongi, willing to to pour out his pent up frustrations. However, Yoongi was too quick for Jungkook to comprehend, stepping out of Jungkook’s way and slamming a calloused hand to Jungkook’s chest. Yoongi’s inhuman speed was always something that could catch Jungkook off guard. While the man acted and thought like a sloth- He was probably the fastest of the clan’s bloodline.

Jungkook’s hands then claw at Yoongi’s arms, slicing through his skin with only one strike and ultimately putting the shorter man’s patience below zero. Yoongi brings his arms back ignoring his pain and quickly coming back full speed towards Jungkook’s chest as his fists connect with a lethal crunch to his breaking ribs. 

“Ugh!” The prince suddenly cringes, feeling the incredible force of Yoongi’s assault. 

The King then roars, those hands slamming against Jungkook’s broken ribcage when he sees Jungkook getting ready for his next strike. Yoongi then closes his eyes, driven by rage and he’s lifting the bulky demon up- slamming his back down onto the floor so hard that Jungkook is sure he’d shattered his spine and crushed his lungs all at once. Honestly its amazing he didn’t fall through from the force, let alone damage the hard material.

Eventually feeling a numbing cold spread from his legs and to his head. Jungkook was close to passing out, but the pain won’t let him. He then coughs violently, the pitch black blood in his chest bubbling from his lips as he barely stares up at his friend with an overdue sense of clarity. For a moment, something flashes behind Jungkook’s eyes, an unclear image of a beautiful face smiling and walking up to a familiar figure without a care in the world, Just like you always did in your dreams.

No.

Before Jungkook could form a thought, or bring himself to comprehend the small visual he’d been trying so hard to grasp, that connection was gone within the next second he’d opened his eyes to a pissed but still concerned friend.

Yoongi just brought him to the brink of death… 

His hand is pressed above the area where Jungkook’s heart resides as he watches a sad look wash over Jungkook’s suddenly broken face. Whether it was because of what just happened or not Yoongi couldn’t tell but there was no way he was going to forget about what just took place.

Fuck, what the hell just came over him? Yoongi thinks as he tries to inhale a deeper breath and gather himself from his unleashed anger. It would have been so easy, he could have simply ripped out Jungkook’s heart if that's what he really wanted…but it’s not and that's only because Jungkook is someone valuable to him.

 “...I’m not going to kill you, even though it sure as hell would make me happy right now.”  The elder man threatens while watching Jungkook blink and attempt to stay conscious. Yoongi stays kneeled beside him, his hand on high alert as the black veins running over his skin begin to disappear. 

Yoongi then slowly feels Jungkook’s mana lower as well and he hates that it took him this far to calm him down. Jungkook’s labored breath reaches Yoongi's ears, which lets him know that his lungs were quickly healing themselves. 

“Even if you did, it won’t change anything. Go ahead.” Jungkook abruptly coughs again. 

The moon light from your windows shines down onto Jungkook’s face where the liquid had also begun to drip from his nose. Instantly, Yoongi feels an immense amount of guilt- but it had to be done, he had to restrain Jungkook. The only thing that made him feel worse about losing his own temper, were the words of his brother at that moment.

 “What did you just say?” He then questions with a horrified look, watching the defeat in Jungkook’s eyes.

With an unbearable amount of pain filling his body, a very familiar scent fills Jungkook’s nose, causing a shitty feeling to come to him at such an inopportune moment. He doesn’t smell that disgusting scent with yours anymore…it's just your sweet almond floating alone within the space other than the two residing injured in the dark. He then shifts, feeling his bones pop back into place and bringing structure back into his spine.

The problem was, nothing hurts more than the thought of losing you to another and simply because he didn’t know how to navigate around his own feelings. So much that Jungkook isn’t sure why he’s completely overwhelmed by the weight lifting off of his chest when he wasn’t able to pick up on the foreign scent he’d been smelling all this time. 

“My chest hurts…” Jungkook croaks.

 “I mean…” Yoongi’s brow arches as he looks him over. “ I just caved it in with my fists so that's bound to have some kind of damage.” He jokes.

Jungkook shakes his head, a humorless scoff garbled in his throat. “No. I mean it hurts because I can’t feel her…Part of me is so upset, because I can’t shake the feeling of someone else being involved in her life while I was gone- the pain makes me want to die for giving up.” 

Yoongi doesn’t answer that for a while as he stares down at Jungkook with nothing but confusion. The gears in his head turn when a deep scowl abruptly comes over his face and he’s truly understanding the full extent of the situation. 

“You must be out of your goddamn mind telling me that.”

 Jungkook frowns, clearly offended. “W-What?”

 “I truly hope this girl is worth it, because I don’t know what else could make you act like this much of suicidal dumbass. I knew you triggered your bond, but I had no idea you were this late into rejecting it and you’re only just now coming to terms after you tried to kill me.” He doesn’t mean to but the words come out harsher than he intended. “Like I said I’m not going to kill you, but if you think you’re going to continue on like this- then I can promise that will change. I have to get you to Hoseok.” 

Jungkook’s brows furrow as he tries to stay focused. “What are you talking about? You think I’m bonded to Y/n?” 

“You just said you would rather die if you couldn’t have her, I think that stands within the category of a soulmate.” The smaller man shrugs bitterly.

“I told you before that my connection to her isn’t like that Yoongi Hyung.” Jungkook groans skeptically when he feels his bones shift in his back again and lock into place- healing is such a bitch.

“So you’re telling me that you always stalk the women you have hallucinations of?” Yoongi asks, staring straight down towards him only to see the shock in Jungkook’s eyes from his comment.

So that's it.

“...How did you know about those?” He then questions horrified with a freaked scowl.

“I didn’t, but now I do- which confirms that  the real reason you went home is because they’re scaring the shit out of you right?” Yoongi smirks, knowing he just hit the bullseye. “That's how it starts...”

“You… don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jungkook goes to move, but honestly everything still hurts and he didn’t like the nasty feeling coming to his chest at the sudden realization of his friend’s confession. There hasn’t been a day that's gone by where he wasn’t obsessed with being closer to you and that includes this very moment where he was craving to be around you again.

Yoongi shakes his head in disbelief at Jungkook's denial. “I know exactly what I’m talking about. You’ve been thinking about Jumping your girlfriend’s bones for a while now and instead of acting on it, like a coward, you hid at home within your work. Now you’re an obsessive ass, with an unstable temper that's going to get you killed.”

Jungkook’s head was swimming, trying to take in the information. Something in the back of his mind was warning him as his body no longer felt cold and numb- his labored breaths becoming normal again. “She’s…not… my girlfriend.”

“Jungkook-Do you know what happens when you trigger your bond with someone and you reject it? It fights back.” Yoongi suddenly mumbles as a more serious tone begins to fill his voice again and the sound honestly puts Jungkook on edge as he lays idle on your bedroom’s floor.

“We don’t have one.” Jungkook swallows hard, the taste of blood still evident in his mouth but he couldn’t focus on that. Not with the sour taste accompanying it as Yoongi begins to explain more into his theory. 

“Hey, I know you hate to be wrong, but I think it's time to understand that everything you’re feeling is not okay. Having a connection like this to someone is not a common phenomenon for us. In-fact it's both equally terrifying and liberating.”  Yoongi says with more annoyance to Jungkook’s obliviousness.

He then blinks, definitely taking his current position into account. “Maybe, it could be from the intense pain I’m currently feeling, but hypothetically, if we were to have a connection with each other. I’m having a hard time understanding how any of this could possibly be liberating.” Jungkook starts. “I’m still not sure how you’ve come to that conclusion when I’m swallowing my own blood right now.” 

Yoongi sighs thoughtfully after he finally removes his hand and it runs through his snowy hair. “Scent, warmth, and an unexplainable obsession with the other. No matter how bizarre or plausible- these are all signs of the Alexithymic bo–”

“ –Alexi-… what?” Jungkook cuts him off.  

“Alexithymia, it's where you can’t express your emotional arousal. Therefore an Alexithymic bond and considering how oblivious you are I’d say its a perfect title.” Yoongi answers, arching a dark brow.

He huffs, not believing how this suddenly sounds interesting. 

“Hyung, my spine just cracked itself back in place and you’re giving me a vocabulary lesson.” Jungkook winces, watching Yoongi roll his eyes again and stand from his position crouched over him. The King strides across the dark space giving Jungkook room to get up. His back should be healed by now, but judging from the congested cough- his chest still isn’t fully recovered.

“I’ll crush your lungs again, if you don’t let me finish.�� Yoongi suddenly threatens and leans back onto his heel to concentrate. “Our bonds are rare but more common the higher ranked you are. It's like a new obsession, constantly thinking about that person day and night- nothing else matters. However, it's considered a curse for a reason. The second you begin to ignore any pull it creates between you and that person, it will punish you in a very ugly way. You’ll see and experience things you’ve never felt before and it’ll only drive you mad until you’re triggering the darkest part of you to rid it.” 

“Has that ever worked?” Jungkook tries not to ask too curiously but Yoongi knows that hint of fear laced within his question. Jungkook was definitely scared of whatever was going on with him, including how he wasn’t sure if he’d been imagining a new scenario of you running off with someone else based on a nonexistent scent.

“…Well…you can ask Hoseok that. He ignored his bond to Jiminie because he refused to think anything other wise. Eventually, Jin had to step in and restrain him in the process those few years back. We had to take him away.” 

“Hobi Hyung?” Jungkook repeats one of his brother's names when something finally registers in his mind. “ Do you mean the incident where Jimin Hyung got hurt? I…thought he was just sick.”

Yoongi’s eyes show the pain behind them as the memory plays fresh in his mind of the situation, an almost traumatizing thought to think of. “-Technically speaking, he was…but somehow Hoseok found a way to eventually keep it under control. I think the thought of hurting Jiminie again must have triggered something rational in him. He wasn’t the same for months, but eventually the two worked through it. just like I’m sure you and Y/n can.” 

Something in Jungkook resonates with such a horrible fear of hurting someone like you. In a way, it was actually strange considering that the thought had never entered his mind before, but now…He wasn’t super certain of his feelings towards you. Jungkook would love to believe everything is alright, but tonight has only ever shown him the opposite.

Dammit Yoongi was actually getting to him.

Maybe the grumpy man for a friend was actually right and Jungkook wasn’t the one in control after all. For the last couple of months, it's true that the thoughts he’s had when it comes to you have been worrying him. They always came at random and whenever they did, it was not only an inconvenience, but distracting as well.

All that being said, Jungkook still can’t shake the edge he feels not being near you. He’s held out long enough and there wouldn’t be any harm in him seeing you-even if it were for just a second, honestly what's the worst that could happen?

“You could kill her.”  Yoongi suddenly chimes at perfect timing and Jungkook is looking at him with a deeply confused scowl. “You’re wondering what would happen if you stayed right? I can see that look you’re getting again after all I said and you should know how wrong this could go.” 

“Yeah, I do.” Jungkook then suddenly groans from the pain and moves to stand feeling his body continue to heal and get back to its original state. He nearly stumbles back down before balancing himself again and he’s sighing from the entire ordeal. He looks up, taking in a reluctant breath before he stares at Yoongi head on once again. “I’ll leave after I see her and after that I won’t come back until I can fix this. Hyung, please if I go now, it’s gonna drive me crazy and all of this would have been for nothing.”

“Jungkook…” Yoongi starts for the last time until he’s realizing how much energy this is really taking away from him. Honestly they both have better and much more important things to be doing right now, besides wondering how he was going to get his friend laid.

Jungkook’s eyes glisten with a desperate shine, puppy eyes staring directly at Yoongi and he tries hard to keep his stoic expression back towards the other. Yoongi feels the slight guilt from before crawling back into his chest and hates how much influence it has on his next decision.

 “...Fine. If you want to risk your girlfriend’s life, be my guess, I knew I should have stopped you when I first suspected something.” He huffs in miserable defeat, knowing that if he stays- Yoongi is worried he’d actually end up killing Jungkook out of his own irritation.

He really hoped it wouldn’t turn out this way.

“Hyung, for the last time she’s not my girlfriend.” Jungkook steps forward, ignoring the pain that shoots up his spine and it looks as if Yoongi was getting ready to leave. He pauses after pushing himself off of your door frame with a wary look on his face as Jungkook comes closer.

“Seriously, Do you want me to break your back again?” Yoongi asks, rolling his eyes and still trying to push down the part of him that doesn’t want to leave a highly unstable Jungkook behind. However he knows exactly how this might play out and if it was anywhere near what he hopes is the best outcome out of the worst- Jungkook will come back home for help and you will be safe.

Again…Hopefully.

Feeling an end to this conversation, Jungkook begins to consider his options when Yoongi’s presence with all of his mana was gone in the blink of an eye and Jungkook was once again alone within your bedroom- waiting until the moment he could hear you coming through that front door.

He doesn’t know how long he’s stood there waiting for you, but it felt like hours had passed when suddenly a subtle scent hits his nose and he’s inhaling. Sensing a familiar presence that has his heart hammering in his chest, he’s very aware of your front door opening within the next couple of minutes.

 On instinct he moves, thick boots clunking across the hard floor- a shot of adrenaline speeding through his veins when his teeth grow longer and his hands are itching to grab you. He thinks about how he wants to hold you again, inhaling your scent as much as he could. Jungkook could see himself squeezing you closer and nipping on your skin while leaving hickeys all around. He wants to taste tugging on you harder until his fingers were digging into your sides deep enough to- No…he thinks to himself, immediately remembering his unstable form and ultimately stopping himself from coming to you. 

Not only that, but something didn’t feel right…Jungkook’s intentions suddenly felt unclear- just like Yoongi had warned him. He sighs before taking another breath and closes his eyes as your scent hits him even stronger towards your bedroom just like all those times before. The sound of your light footsteps draw near and are drowned out by a rapid heartbeat within Jungkook’s ears.

Yours or his? He didn't know. 

What he does know is that It’s extremely hard when he feels his body going haywire the closer you get all over again. He tries to avoid the darkening within his vision and before you could even sense someone else inside. Jungkook has half a mind to come into alert a few seconds too late before bringing himself back from over the edge. He inhales seeing you, but then opts for holding his breath so that he couldn’t be drawn into you further.

You however hesitate, calling out his name into the dark and waiting for no response. It’s too dark, for you- but he can see you perfectly within it. A pain in his chest from the hope in your eyes as you unknowingly stare directly into his. He wants nothing more but to reach out and hold you, though he knew that couldn't happen just yet. First he needs to calm himself and quickly find that it needs to be done sooner than later, because whatever Jungkook was thinking about a second ago no longer felt normal.

It felt ravenous...

“Jungkook?…Is that you?” 

If there was anything more relieving than clocking out of your final shift for the week- then it was knowing you wouldn’t be doing anymore doubles for a very long time. It wasn’t usual for you to take on so many at your job, but with all the recent call-outs and you needing some extra cash to save on the side, you’d been working your butt off for the past few weeks. 

You sigh tiredly, your entire body screaming of exhaustion and your feet aching in your  shoes by the time you were heading out for the day. Walking out into the night air, you quickly found yourself shivering and felt goosebumps eroding your skin. 

Although you had been running around like crazy, your body easily succumbed to the cold wind breezing by even as you were walking to your car. When this happened, you always blamed it on the hideous uniform you were forced to wear every shift, cursing the cheap fabric that was no help when it came to protection.

Suddenly, you giggled to yourself while thinking of a certain someone who always made it a point to announce how much he hated seeing it on you. “That shirt is too tight, you look like you’re freezing and suffocating at the same time.” Jungkook had once said this to you before, draping his cozy jacket over you afterwards and leaving himself bared to the night as well. At the time, you weren’t aware of the man’s unworldly nature and even now you still felt like a fool when you scolded him for acting so recklessly.

 Originally, you thought your friend to be at least 3 years younger, making it natural for you to be concerned about his health, even if he was much bigger than you. But as time had gone on, you’d soon found out that the sweet boy was not only a demon within his human form, but that he was also a good few 100 years older than you. 

 Oddly enough he just never acts like it...Jungkook was like a arrogant brat in your eyes, but one you’ve come to adore over time. 

Speaking of…You had begun to pout while letting yourself into your car, wondering when your friend would return from his schedule back home or if he would return at all. It's been so long since you last saw him and once it passed the week timeframe he had given you, a deep unease began to form in the pit of your stomach a while back. Is he avoiding you? You’ve wandered over and over with a deep rooted fear overtaking your mind, but then there were times where you could feel Jungkook in the back of your head like before and you knew he was watching over you somehow. You just wished that it would include him physically being here with you and not wherever he’d gone off to. 

You never thought you would be this bothered without Jungkook around, feeling irritable every now and then to the point where you definitely weren’t your normal self. You had trouble sleeping and like now, after getting off of work, you drove home in your car fast and a bit recklessly if you were being honest with yourself. It was as if you were racing against time, a deeper part of you hoping that tonight he’d at least pop in before you went to bed, especially since this would be the first night you actually planned to stay in without him there.

It’s been a while since you allowed yourself to actually wait for him, giving up a while back on his visits but still holding on to the hope of his presence.

 The more you didn’t have him around, the more you had begun to feel yourself get antsy. Why exactly you weren’t too sure and for some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. All you knew was that, it felt like you were wasting time- like you actually needed to see him soon before something bad would happen. 

But even when you had made it home in one piece. Rushing up the elevator impatiently and finally arriving before your front door, you were disappointed to open it and be met with a very lifeless apartment.

Out of nowhere, your heart sunk in your chest. Nothing but darkness and silence filling the space until you thought you heard shuffling  and whispering in your bedroom. Immediately you thought them to be heavy footsteps, possibly belonging to a man you knew could produce them with his heavy shoes. Is he back? If he is, you have no doubts Jungkook would be confused to not find you here at this time. You were always home by now and if you weren’t catching up on your studies then you were hanging around with him.

Without thinking, your body was on autopilot, immediately closing the door and walking further along the open space of your living room and down the hall towards the now freezing area which held your bedroom. 

Shivering, you frowned wondering why it had suddenly gone so cold when you always kept your house on a casual 74 degrees, not to mention that you specifically remember keeping your hall light on by accident while leaving in a rush earlier. But as quickly as you were beginning to question those thoughts, your curiosity vanished the second you stood in front of your bedroom’s doorway. 

Suddenly, your body freezes- swearing you were standing only just a few feet away from a large silhouette. You frown, a deep breath being taken as if your presence had a surprising effect as it had on you. You feel your heart pounding in your chest, butterflies from not only fear but the familiar scent of mint hitting your nostrils just as it does whenever he is around. Like the first time you’d ever seen Jungkook, there's a jump in your stomach that came with unease from the intimidating energy you felt while in front of him.

Maybe he’s in there…? You think of biting your lip at the foreign shiver that snakes down your spine. You stood staring into the room for about five seconds, letting your imagination run wild until his name was rising up your throat.

“Jungkook?” You whisper with barely enough sound to leave your mouth. “Is that you?” 

There's no response and part of you should have expected it, you had to be a lunatic to feel so secure that a demon was possibly standing in the middle of your room waiting for you. Then again you were used to the possibility and it was strange to think he’s actually avoiding you. Somehow, that thought doesn't stop you from stepping in closer, your fingers inching towards the switch on your wall to reveal if everything you’d been witnessing was true. With a quick flick you wince, letting the warm ceiling light cast down upon you and to your dismay, find the spot where you swore he had been standing, to be empty. 

You weren’t happy, but you also weren’t disappointed- not as much as the beginning of your week when you’d first been expecting the return of your friend. 

“Oh…”  You sag visibly, a shameful emotion of how much you’d actually felt your heart skip a beat at the thought of seeing him. You then scowl deeper, suddenly feeling the beginnings of fatigue catch up with you and it wasn’t until about  30 minutes later after getting your things settled in, that a sorrowful huff leaves your mouth as your gaze burns through the white tiles of your master shower.

“I’ll be back, just give me a week.” You bitterly remembered him saying this to you as you closed your eyes and imagined him with his bright smile. He seemed so warm and didn’t give off the vibe that something could be wrong, so you were at a loss as to why this had been the umpteenth day you haven’t seen him. 

Maybe he’d gotten bored of you…That couldn’t be it, somehow you could still feel him around, but you do remember how much he had begun to space out while being right beside you. It started out small about a year ago, but eventually you had begun to notice the way Jungkook couldn’t focus or that he wasn’t paying attention to anything you would say when you came near him. It was almost like he’d lost interest in you, but it wouldn’t explain why he would continue to pop in or even tell you he was planning to come back.

Unless…Could someone else be taking up his attention?

 That seemed to be another question plaguing you and the thought not only made your heart sink but whatever emotion was clawing at your chest had spread to your body-ultimately exhausting you in the end. This had been the same thought process you’ve had for days now and there was no describing the consuming despair that overtook you because of it. 

While you got ready and slipped into your bed, you could swear that you were somehow aware of his presence within your home. Without him here, it felt empty and lonely. Whereas other times, you’d be laid up next to him watching some kind of kid friendly movie and having him wrapped around you. You're not sure when the both of you had gotten so comfortable being within such an intimate setting, but it had easily became a second nature that you took advantage of.

You toss and turn in the coldness of your bed. The darkness of the room was now a bit scarier to you and again like many nights before- you found yourself restless. It might have something to do with the fact that your mind was used to the thought of sleeping next to someone else for comfort. But still, why was it so hard to sleep? To relax and let your worries melt away? You’ve certainly earned it after working so hard and if anything you should be ready to knock out at any moment.

“Ugh…” You groan, kicking around in frustration before laying flatly on your back.

You were stressed and somehow more distraught than what would feel normal. Were you seriously this upset over him? He’s only your friend…right?

It’s no secret to anyone who’s ever met him- how undeniably attractive Jungkook is. Long raven black hair that was soft to the touch, piercings on his lip, and earlobes. He was the complete opposite of you, dressed in mostly black while being covered in what you thought were tattoos but turned out to be his natural markings inked beautifully into his skin from his hands, all the way to his chest and back just to signify his bloodline. You only knew that last part because you’ve noticed through the few times you were able to catch the small slips of skin under his shirt, your eyes immediately zoning in heavily towards those areas and there had been plenty of times you’ve wanted to run your hands across them.

You swallowed and brought yourself back from the unusual thoughts of your friend. Quickly, you sit up from your position and there's an enormous amount of guilt brushing along your chest when you realize that you were actually getting turned on by the thought of the demon again.

 Why? It was so sudden....but slowly as those thoughts were beginning to triumph your mind more frequently, it was becoming apparent that it truly wasn’t and there were numerous times, you found yourself thinking of the man. When you would stare at his big smile- tongue dragging subconsciously across those pink lips and the way his eyes would have those small crescents as he did so. He was much taller than you and whenever you hugged him, you had to admit the impressive build of his frame against yours. You never really cared for mint, but whenever you smelled it on him, you felt like you could dive into an ocean of it.

Seriously, what was so special about him? Well besides the fact that he is clearly nowhere near human…and that he’s literally royalty within his family.

Jungkook was always just a friend to you, but one that can easily light up your day with just one look. He’s kind and considerate, two traits that completely contradict what someone would think about a dark creature of his stature. But for some reason he’s always had an attachment to you and it’s so obvious that even you couldn’t miss it…The way he looks at you… when he holds you, his entire body tenses up and he gets all giddy just from you calling his name. He also gets jealous whenever he sees you leaving work with your male coworkers. However, something tells you that even Jungkook doesn’t realize his own strange behavior when it comes to your connection with him. 

What if you were the same way? From the beginning, Jungkook was nothing but a stranger and someone who couldn’t keep himself away while knowing absolutely nothing about you. In a way, while you so openly cherished having him here in your home, you still knew next to nothing about Jungkook other than what he allows and yet…He’s the most important person to you in your life.

 As your breathing begins to take a deeper turn and an overwhelming wave of warmth washes over you, there's two things that are starting to become very clear. First, you can’t stop thinking about Jungkook. You haven't been able to since you walked through that front door and secondly, the problem wasn’t that you were too stressed to sleep-you were just incredibly...unbelievably sexually frustrated and it's fair to say that you’re pretty sure he’s the cause of it.

Two long years since you met him and a little longer since you last had a crush on someone or even just an attraction. Everything that you ever thought you liked in a partner had been completely washed away and that was no thanks to him. A man that thinks Disney is actually the name of a movie, acts like a cocky brat and you were pretty sure his job was to torture souls for a living.

Jungkook. You have a crush on him—Great.  

If anyone could see you, they’d wonder why your eyes had widened to the size of saucers. It was hot and you turned yourself over onto your stomach while instantly hiding your face into the fluffiness of your pillow. Hoping you could drift off into deep darkness of shame.

How the hell did you let him get under your skin?

...

Tag List : @thisartemisnevermisses @vampyjk @taeilmom @outro-kook @bishuthot @mwitsmejk @irissilujm @vickyboo @awesomebabyyoda @hanzyyme @gerim-1995 @i-dont-give-a-fok @hwangheiress @hollyverday @seajae @oishee09 @jolinaprincess @yoongibabs

#my fic #jungkook fic #soulmates #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #demon jungkook #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop fic #kpop smut #bts #yoongi #bts suga #bts jungkook #bts angst #bts fluff #bts soulmates au #Alexithymia #Jeon Jungkook #min yoongi

[katsheadinclouds]

chapter 12

Joel Miller x gn!/f! reader

series masterlist  -  chapter 11

summary: Time passes on and you realize there’s something missing from your life.

rating: mature

chapter warnings: good ol’ miscommunication, power imbalance in a previous sexual relationship that reader has realized later, mentions of oral sex (m receiving) and handjobs, insecurities, anxiety, angst, jealousy, some drinking, reader is said to have hair (no specifics mentioned), small town dynamics, lots of fluff, no use of y/n

notes: Here we are, close to the end of this story. I can’t thank you enough for sticking on this ride with me, reading and sharing this fic <3

word count: 28.4k

dividers by cafekitsune

“You have a visitor,” Brenda calls out from the door, your hands covered in suds as you’re washing dishes. You take a towel with you, passing Brenda who smirks knowingly. The reason for it stands inside the hallway, Joel holding his gloves in his hands. His warm clothes a clear sign of his day spent out of town on patrol.

“Hi,” you smile and his face lights up when he sees you.

“Those are healing nicely,” he points his gloves at your face. You instinctively bring your fingers against the nearly healed wound on your cheek, almost all the marks from the library gone from your skin.

“What’s up?” You fidget the towel in your hands, just like he’s fidgeting with the gloves.

“I heard you might be going to the stables later, for an evening shift?”

“Yeah, why?” An extra shift to welcome back those, who left to trade with someone out of town. They didn’t want to take the risk of outsiders finding out about Jackson as these are new people they’re trading with. They radioed in earlier and your morning shift at the stables was switched to the evening.

“Was wondering if Ellie could come and talk with you?” You swallow.

“Yeah, that should work,” you nod. You didn’t expect to have a conversation with her today, but you’re also glad it’s finally happening. It’s been long enough since the last time you spoke with her. Your words to her are a jumbled clump in your memory. The only clear thing is how you reacted impulsively in that moment and weren’t really in control of what you were saying.

Joel leaves you with a warm smile and as you close the door, you get a glimpse of him turning to look back at you once more before he disappears behind a hedge.

“So, what was that about?” Brenda sits by the dining room table, in clear view from the sink where you keep on scrubbing the dishes.

“I’m seeing Ellie later.”

“She’s the girl who was at the library, correct?” She dogears a page in her book and then flips it.

“Yeah, we need to talk about what happened there.” Brenda hums at your answer and you think she has gone back to reading her book. The slowness of the moment drags into you mulling over what you want to say to Ellie later.

“And what’s going on with you and him?” You close your eyes in a slow blink.

“Nothing, we’re giving each other space.” Another hum.

“What?” You drain the sink from the dirty water and start washing the soap off some glasses.

“You’d think that an apocalypse would only make you stick to the people you like more. But I guess you young people need to figure things out.” You consider her words for a moment, but eventually burst into surprised giggles.

“I guess so.” You’re happy with your decision, you are. You know it’s for the best, you know you both need it. It hasn’t been even a year since you got here, and you both carry a lot of baggage. You need the space. No matter how he told you that he likes you, no matter that you admitted the same to him. You still made the right decision. You think... 

The stables are quiet, bathed in the darkened, rusty lights hanging from the ceiling. You’re carefully organizing some boxes in the supply closet. How is it that even though people are careful with the equipment, when one thing ends up in the wrong place, then everything else starts to fall apart and all the boxes are filled with mixed items, making it hard for anyone to find what they’re looking for.

You’ve pulled some of the containers on the floor and made yourself space on the shelf to organize the brushes. The repeated motions of putting similar ones into their own boxes gives you a sense of comfort.

You hear the door open before you see anyone.

“Just a moment!” You exclaim and arrange the remaining brushes from your hands into their right places. You hear tentative, light steps and you crane your neck out the door to see Ellie in the hazy darkness. Her hands are in her coat pockets, fidgeting and making the lining move like she has ants in her clothes.

“Hi,” you greet softly. She’s visibly nervous. You don’t blame her. You step out of the closet and take a step closer to her but let her set the pace. She swallows and tries a gentle smile, but she looks more unsure than anything. 

“Joel told me you’re here, I hope it’s okay?” She talks quietly. You feel bad for her. You don’t want her to feel like she has to tiptoe around you or be anxious with you.

“Of course,” you try to match her mood. She just nods and avoids looking at you. She drops her hands from her pockets, swings them by her sides and manages to become even more restless than before.

“Can we talk?” She’s a teenager but somehow she seems even younger. A child in your eyes. Scared of the authority figure, unsure if she has let people down. This Ellie is someone you’ve never met before.

Admittedly you don’t know her that well, but what you’ve seen her around town and even when she found you, you’ve always thought of her as a natural leader. She’s confident and courageous, a bit of a rebel and she has a strong head on her shoulders. However, this new side of her is almost making you unsure as well. In this moment she needs security and reassurance.

You lead her to the bench by the front door. The corner seems dark even with the lights on, the amber tones surrounding you in the blackness that swallows the walls around you in shadows. You rest your back against the wall, almost force yourself to do it, but you do it for her. She has to see that you’re relaxed and eased in this moment. Maybe it’ll catch to her as well.

“I wanted to thank you. And apologize.” Her trembling voice reaches something deep inside you, a memory of a moment long ago.

You remember you were with your brother. Something had happened, but you’ve blocked out what exactly. You were upset with him and in your flurry of protecting him, your worry came out lacing your words with bitterness and sting.

No words have stayed in your mind from that moment. Even his voice sounds distant in your memory and you’re not sure if the sounds you relate with him are even his or just a combination of different people from different settings. There’s a specific snigger you remember, or a way he used to say some things, but other than that you can’t remember his voice. Same goes with your sister. They’re still with you but their voices have started to fade, like they’re behind a curtain, and you’re only left with an idea of knowing how they sounded like.

In that moment with your brother, his voice was as small as it ever was, and it made you promise to yourself you’d never want to hear it again. And here you’re with Ellie, faced with your resolution. You don’t want to be the one who causes her to be scared or timid, no matter what she has done.

You’ve been waiting for this talk with Ellie the whole day, since Joel came over to ask if you could meet up with her later. Now that she’s apologizing, you’re not sure how to answer her anymore. She doesn’t have to apologize to you, you’re not the one who has to hear it. You’re in no relation to her and she’s not accountable to you. Still here she is, apologizing, and all the answers you thought you could give her escape from you.

“Ellie—” you sigh. You really didn’t think this could be this hard, how speaking with her could wake up that older sibling in you who wants to make her feel safe, but also make her think what she did. Not for your sake, but for hers.

“I think I need to apologize to you as well. Or I know I want to. I didn’t mean to be so harsh with you. I was on edge, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry about that.” She turns to you, and you can see a sparkle of a tear in her eye.

“But you meant what you said?” She catches on quick, not missing what you left unspoken.

“I meant all of it. I still think it was incredibly dumb of you to even think it was a good idea and I don’t think I’ll ever understand why you did it.” She leans her hands against the bench and hunches forward, like she hides under a shell to protect herself.

Her hair falls over her other shoulder, an unusual sight to see her with her hair open. It curls at the ends, sticking to her coat with static electricity from the freezing evening. You notice miniscule droplets shimmering in her hair, water. Snow has started to float through the air again, stuck to her hair and has now melted. Not enough to wet her hair but there’s enough for you to visualize the scene in front of you when you walk home later this evening.

“You’re right. We shouldn’t have gone out there.”

“Why did you anyway?” She looks up, like she’s trying to decide what she can tell you.

“A friend wanted to show us something in there, old movies and books. I don’t really know why I went along with it. I knew I shouldn’t have but I…” You wait for her to tell you more. She looks like she wants to. She turns to you fully, in a way to express that she wants to tell the story to someone.

“I was angry.” She states simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“When you’re angry you shouldn’t go out there looking for trouble.” You raise your brows at her.

“I know, I know, and we didn’t look for trouble in purpose. I guess I convinced myself nothing would happen and the thought that something would kind of excited me.”

You have to think for a moment about what she’s saying. How the possibility of danger excited her. There was once a time when you thought you were also intrigued by danger. That the churning in your stomach was an answer to you finding thrill in threatening situations until you realized it wasn’t thrill at all. You just wanted to feel the rush of exhilaration because you didn’t know how else to deal with the pressure of your anxiety and fears that stirred in your body.

She’s seeking something from you. The look on her face expresses the question that is left unsaid. And you’re pretty sure you know what she’s after. Approval.

“Going out there shouldn’t be about being in danger and finding that exciting.” Your voice is weaker than you thought it would be. The tentative hopefulness drops from her features and her brows crunch gently together. She inhales once and her mouth opens but you stop her.

“What happened at the library isn’t something I’m proud of. What maybe once was intriguing for me, wasn’t that now when I knew your life depended on me being a machine.” Her chin drops against her chest.

“I’m sorry.” It’s a real apology. The weight of it hangs between you two and it’s filled with what you told her after your rampage.

“I know you are, thank you.”

“Can I ask you something?” That childlike curiosity blooms in her eyes. She inhales again, but this time you let her voice her question.

“Did you like it?”

“Like what?”

“The killing?” Lead fills your lungs. “What a loaded question,” you chuckle joylessly. You have to think it for a moment. What you can tell this fifteen-year-old, what is appropriate.

She’s not a small child. She understands how this world works, but she still has a lot to learn. The thought about liking killing is not what you thought you’d be speaking with her, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by you how she seeks for those stories. She’s fascinated and wants to piece an image of the people around her, understand them in a way that some might never want to.

“Joel has killed a lot of people. He was a smuggler before and I think he was a raider at some point,” she says out of nowhere as you’re probably taking too much time answering her. You’re lost for words at her revelation as it’s not what you were expecting.

“I just mean that I travelled across the country with him and knew he has killed innocent people. He killed in front of me as well. What you’re going to tell me isn’t going to scare me.” And there it is again, that young optimism.

She talks like she knows what she means, but you can tell there’s that piece of understanding missing. She might know in theory what a raider is and how they work. But it’s not until you’re face to face with them, know the brutality of them, how some of them deceive and torture for their own survival.

“How do you even know that?” You can’t hide your curiousness.

“We ran into a group of them in Kansas City, and he knew when one was acting hurt.” So, he wasn’t just a raider, but a hunter. No wonder he fits into the role of a patroller. The knowledge he has on how the other side works if they ever run into people with no good intentions, the ability to be ruthless if needed, the caution he has on new people. It all makes sense.

“I liked it at one point,” you finally answer her and she nods at you, encourages you to keep on going, giving you her undivided attention. “It felt necessary at first, then it was just routine. Killing infected is easy since they don’t act like us anymore. People on the other hand, even if you know they could hurt you… It has always been harder.” It’s the simplest way you’ve ever described the emotions to anyone, even yourself. You’re surprised how those feelings form into words, since you’ve always had trouble finding the right ones.

“Were you a raider as well then?”

“No,” you smirk at her question, “but I left a QZ with a group and lived with them in different places where we had to be prepared for anything.”

“How long did you stay there?” Time has turned hazy. You haven’t been keeping track of dates in ages. Knowing what month it is and seeing the changing seasons has been enough for you for a while now already. There hasn’t been a reason to know it all anymore. But now that you think of it, losing the track of time has made everything blurry. You can’t place certain events on a clear timeline, to know when something special happened or when your world changed.

“Years,” you realize out loud. Because it was. Time became a routine, you just lived through it, did what you were supposed to do, and were happy if you survived another day. It has all changed now though. You’re not high on adrenaline every day anymore, you’re grasping at the passing of time in a different way. You have a routine that involves life, not survival with teeth and nail.

“That must’ve been a different life for you then,” she nods impressed.

“To put it plainly,” you grumble and earn a giggle from her.

“Can I ask you something as well?” You repeat it back to Ellie. Her back straightens and she looks like she’s preparing for any kind of question. If she’ll answer, it is a completely different thing.

“When you said you were angry and that’s why you decided to be bold, was it because of Joel?” She’s clearly taken aback by the question, the directness of it.

“What do you know?” You have to match her reaction. She asks it like there’s some big secret you’ve been privy to, something that she’s scared about.

“I know you fought about something a while back. He lied about something to you?” You’re tiptoeing on the line of discomfort, you can tell. Her shoulders relax just the slightest, but a flash of disappointment and sorrow crosses her face.

There’s a history you’re not familiar with. A history between Ellie and Joel, a history of a lie that is apparently so big it made her venture out of the town into the hands of tens of infected without listening to her gut feeling. She doesn’t really even need to answer you. The way she’s acting is answer enough. She still nods, but she’s not saying anything.

“In the future, even if you’re angry and you feel like you could do anything, you have to stop and listen to that little voice in your head before you do anything that could actually hurt you or get you killed.” You try to be sympathetic to her inner turmoil, but the words seem empty when you’ve let them out of your mouth. Your sentiment is banal and useless, a cliché she doesn’t need to hear. Her whispered I know under her breath only confirms it.

“He says the same.” Her weak mumble makes you pause. “I felt like he took something from me when he lied. I had to feel something.”

“What did you want to feel instead?” Your question makes her raise her gaze to the ceiling and her face scrunches with concentration.

“Like I had power? That I knew what I was doing and no one could stop me? Recklessness?” The tumbling words are questions to no one. She’s not asking them because she wants answers. These are the things she struggles with, if she has the ability to feel those things, if she’s allowed to feel those things.

“Joel has protected me this whole time. I had to feel like I didn’t need him.” It’s not a question but a fact.

“Did you feel that way then?”

“No.” She picks at her fingernail, a nervous tick for her you realize. “I was so angry at him, still am in a way, but when the runners came after us and we had to lock ourselves in the storage room, I didn’t wish for anything else but for him to come save us.” You answer her resigned smirk with a much gentler smile, knowing what she means.

You’re familiar with the feeling, of wanting to be saved by someone. That someone you trust takes the burden off your shoulders and gives you a hand you can grasp. You still sometimes wish someone could do that for you, ease the load, even just the smallest amount. That they could read your mind and take some of the things from there to give you a little peace and quiet.

“I thought I could handle an infected or two.” You don’t expect for her to keep on talking. What she said sounded like she was done already. “I’ve killed them before, I’ve… killed before.” Her voice gets quiet and you instantly know she’s not only talking about infected.

Sorrow follows her admission, choking you with the realization that she has had to deal with that already. She on the other hand doesn’t want to talk about that or get deeper into that story. She pushes on with her thoughts and leaves the memory of killing somewhere behind.

“I thought since I had my friends with me we could handle it. I wanted to impress them, and we had fun at first when the library seemed abandoned. But of course, some of them hadn’t even held a weapon in their hands, let alone come across infected, so it kind of blew up in our faces.” She spreads her palms open and throws them towards her face. The gesture is so childlike that it makes you wonder where she got the impression that she could get through such an amount of infected. Even if she has killed some in the past, the skill doesn’t come overnight.

“Tell me you didn’t stay out there trying to fight them off?” Your question makes her chuckle.

“No, we’re not that dumb.” Her quiet laughter is soothing in a way, even though what she’s talking about does make your head spin.

There are too many memories flooding your thoughts. Memories about your first kill and the easiness of it. Memories of first bruises and cuts, achy muscles and getting used to the rush of aggression. It didn’t feel like it belonged in you, but you still welcomed that part of yourself with open arms and nurtured it by feeding it more blood and death.

That darkness is a part of you you’d like to let go and to move away from. You don’t want to have that companion in your life anymore even if you’d use your skills in the future as well. You just don’t want to lose yourself to it.

“One of my friends said it would be easy to take care of them if we encountered any infected.” There it is again, the word easy. “I also saw Joel and Tess kill two clickers and we survived that. I was scared shitless when that happened and after that I killed a few myself. I was in a FEDRA school you know. I know how to handle a gun, I’ve gotten some training. I thought that it can’t be that hard anymore. I’ve seen others do it, I’ve done it, why couldn’t I take care of a bigger bunch as well?” She sounds like she’s trying to justify her actions to you, or even herself. They still fall flat.

“And did you find out if you could do it as well?” She shakes her head immediately.

“I had no idea what I was doing.” You both snicker at that, and in a way it is funny. There was a real danger that something could’ve happened to her, but at least this was a reminder for her that she doesn’t know what she’s doing until she does it herself.

“How did you even do it, sneak out of town?” The question has been on your mind for a while. You’ve heard that their absence wasn’t noticed until hours after they had left, and no one had any idea where they were going or what their plan was. You coming across them at the library was pure chance.

“We planned it for months and made sure we were ready.” The way she says it makes it sound like it was the simplest thing to put together. But if they planned it for months, then it also means—

“You’ve been angry with Joel for months?” You blurt out. Her wide-eyed fragility hits you like a slap in the face. When he was here losing his mind over the lie Ellie had found out, the argument was a result of Ellie waiting for him to come clean. She held the plan over his head without him knowing anything about it.

“Did it go as you expected?” Your question confuses her and you have to think carefully before you open your mouth again. “When he told the truth, had you imagined how you’d react? Did you think you’d want to go exploring even more after it?”

“I don’t know.” And it’s the truth. The look in her eyes tells you she has a lot of thinking to do, a lot she has already processed but some things that have been too much for her the bear yet.

“If you wanted him to come save you, maybe you could give him a chance now?” Your suggestion makes her sigh deep.

“What do you mean?”

“That whatever it was he did, whatever you’re angry about, share it with him. You don’t have to carry it all on your own. I’m sure he’d be happy to understand you.”

“Have you spoken with him?” She asks and your last real conversation floods back like a tidal wave.

“He told me once that you’re his daughter by now, that you’re family. Nothing else.” Her eyes fill with tears instantly. They spill in heavy beads, and she turns away from you before she wipes at them with her coat sleeves.

You hesitate for a moment. Your hand hovers over her shoulder but you’re not sure if touch is a welcomed comfort for her. You’re not sure if this conversation is appropriate either, if you’re telling her something that should be expressed by Joel instead. But you can’t help yourself when it seems like she can’t calm her sniffles and the heavy stream of tears. Your palm lands softly on her shoulder and you run it across her upper back slowly until her weeping hiccups have calmed down and she’s tugging at her wet sleeves.

“I want to try to forgive him,” her whimpered, barely audible voice makes your eyes sting but there are no tears. Just a gentle upturn of your lips when you know there is still hope for them to fix everything. That whatever happened between them, it can be worked on. There can be understanding, it’s not all over. You can’t not think about Joel and how important Ellie’s decision will be for him.

“But don’t tell him that, please,” she turns quickly to you and your hand drops from her shoulder. Her bloodshot eyes and the blushed tip of her nose tell you that she didn’t expect to have a conversation like this tonight, even if she came here to talk with you. You didn’t expect this turn either, but you’re happy it did. It eases your mind and gives you a sense of comfort that not all hope is lost for them.

“Of course not, you can trust me.” She nods and empties her lungs with a quick exhale.

“Let’s talk about something else, please,” she chuckles and wipes at the corner of her eye once more. Her levity is determined already though and she’s not going to let a single stray tear steer her off course.

“What do you want to talk about?” You ask her, instantly regretting it because Ellie’s eyes brighten in a flash, and you know she wants to know more about your past.

“You said something at the library, about protecting people?” You look up and have to dig your brain to really remember what you said to her in your burst of emotions. It’s all a blur, all the infected, how you got yourself out of there, the ride back to Jackson. Just a mess of noises, flashes of actions, how your body reacted.

“Yeah.” It comes out weaker than you thought.

“Who?”

“My older sister and younger brother.” She looks surprised.

“Not your parents?”

“They’ve been gone a long time.” She has recognition written all over her face. To know what it feels like to be alone in this world without your parents who you’re supposed to lean on and trust the most.

“And your siblings, they’re gone as well?” You only nod.

You miss them every day. The worst of it has become cotton wool, a soft longing for a family you had for a long time. Sometimes it hits you like a hammer against your skull, a reminder of what happened to them. The more time has gone by, the more you realize you didn’t get to say goodbye.

At one moment you still had them, and the next they were gone. There’s no ending point for that though. You’re in a limbo where you relive that moment of discovering your brother was dead, and then the bullet that shot through your sister. The sound echoes in your memory and you try to rid of it with a roll of your shoulders.

“I get it, I’d kill for those who I love as well.” You twist your head to see how much she really means it, severity on her face, a glimmer of sadness in her eyes.

“I hope you don’t have to do that, ever.” The thought scares you. Not only because even though protecting someone can become like a second nature, but because it can start eating at you.

It’s not only protecting when that feeling spreads into blaming yourself if something happens to the people you truly care about. And then there’s the thought about who she’d protect. You can’t stop yourself from imagining the small framed, slender girl in front of you so full of rage and adrenaline that she could be capable of dealing with it. Maybe it’s one of those sides of her that is still unknown to you. And to her as well.

“I hope so too,” she swallows thickly after her words. The severity you saw earlier changes slowly, like water dripping from the faucet on the other end of the room, her real emotion coming through: fear. She’s not ready for that responsibility. At least not yet.

“Just promise me one thing?” You weakly attempt to change the mood that is shrouded in the rusty darkness like your surroundings. She raises her brows in question.

“Don’t go sneaking out there on your own without someone who knows how to handle infected or before you’re more experienced.” There’s real worry in there, but your tone makes it sound more like you’re joking.

“No, I won’t. And I can’t, Joel told me that I’m grounded?” She smirks with confusion, but her cheeks blush from the meaning behind it. That he is telling her what she can and can’t do, like a he’s her dad.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but I don’t really know what it means?”

“Are you asking me?” Talking about grounding someone seems so out of place. A rule from the old world, where you had to think before you did something. She nods and you try to think of how you could even explain it to her.

“Were you ever grounded?” She asks instead, filling your mind with another glimpse from your past.

“No, but my sister was. I was still young when all went to shit and after that my mom didn’t really care to ground us, we just had to come home in one piece.” You wonder if she would’ve wanted to ground you if she knew what you did with the soldiers. She would’ve never wanted you to take the same path as she did, to keep your sister safe when she was more reckless and didn’t always keep track of curfews.

“Joel told me that I have to have dinner with him every night and I have to tell him when I come home, even if I sleep in the garage. Apparently it’ll ‘give me some peace of mind’,” she imitates Joel’s deep rumble, but only makes it sound like she has swallowed something spicy and she doesn’t know how to handle the heat. You snicker at the result of the voice that you hear.

“That sounds pretty kind, considering what you did. You’re not locked at home and can do what you want, just need to communicate more.” When you say the words out loud, they click in your brain. That you miss the communication with Joel. You know taking a step back from each other was the best decision at this point, but you can’t deny that you don’t miss him. Her delicate smile reveals your words made her understand the terms he set for her as well. How he didn’t punish her at all. He just wants to be present for her.

“I better get going before he starts to worry,” she says almost mockingly but it doesn’t reach that tone. There’s softness under the words. She stands up and her hand gravitates back into her pocket, her fingers idly fiddling with something in there.

“Thanks for hearing me out,” she suddenly bursts, care in her eyes. “I know it must’ve been difficult for you, but you saved my life.” Her open gratitude makes you want to be honest with her. No matter how young, impressionable, and immature she still is.

“It wasn’t that difficult. Like I said, I was trained, I knew what I was doing. But next time—”

“Next time?” Intrigue flashes in her eyes but you lift your palms towards her and shake your head to slow down her excitement.

“I mean the next time you go out there, you have to be ready for anything. Not any of that childlike carelessness, okay?” You stand up and you feel like you tower over her with your age and experiences on your shoulders.

“Yes,” she nods, her gaze fixed on you with determination.

“I’ll see you around Ellie,” and she nods. You stay still as you watch her leave. The door bangs closed and starts to drift open again, letting in the cold from outside. You feel like a weight has been lifted off your chest and a sense of levity calms you down.

You close the door when you hear the murmurs of voices pull away from your earshot. You peek outside, into the clear night. The sky is black, swallowing the town lights and the air is getting more freezing the longer the evening goes on. Joel’s broad shoulders sway lightly as he walks next to Ellie. Their breaths puff into small clouds of smoke. Ellie says something to him, and he knocks his elbow against her arm. Her quiet giggles land into your ears and you can’t help but smile.

Autumn turns to winter. Snow starts to float down from the sky until it’s a flurry and piles up until everything’s covered in white. The days are cold, nights even colder. The season envelopes everything into silence and darkness. Into the comfortable crunch of the snow against the bottoms of your boots. Into the warmth of your layers that you collect around yourself every time you go outside.

You see Joel around town. You say gentle hi’s to each other, exchange warm smiles, but rarely say more than a few words. Theres no time for it. Both of you are busy with work and making friends and then you come back home, lock yourself in your room and realize you’d have plenty of time to say more.

Every time you’d want to say something else as well, either someone is always near, whisking either of you away or you’re waiting for someone and you only get to ask how he’s been and what he’s been up to. The same questions drift to you as well and you fill him in on your exciting life of normalcy and routines.

You feel Joel every time he’s near. You search for him in the sparce crowds of the street, in the busy chaos of the dining hall during lunch hours, or at the joyous get togethers on weekend nights at The Tipsy Bison. Sometimes he doesn’t even notice that you’ve seen him and you get to observe him without interruption. The broad shoulders that you see a glimpse of when he’s walking in front of you, his usual strides confident and making people part from his way.

Lapping food into his mouth, every once in a while taking part in the conversation with his patrol friends. Their table is usually one of the loudest ones in the whole dining hall and their laughter echoes through the rumble of chatter.

You notice him sitting with Tommy or Maria in the bar until the other half of the pair arrives as well after leaving Matilda with a babysitter. He sips at his drink, usually a whiskey or a beer, and he circles the glass against the table. He runs his thumb across it chasing the condensation that makes the cold surface sweat. He gets to be as quiet or involved in their conversations as he likes, his smiles more relaxed and the crinkles by his eyes deep when he does let that upturn of his lips come through.

Sometimes, before he can even see you, you escape and don’t let him know that you were there. Those days are the days when you’re struggling. When you’re feeling low, alone, like you’re a bit lost and unsure of yourself. The times when you want to be in noisy places or with people who you now consider your good friends, but then realise it’s not what you want at all and need to go home.

Those are the times when you’d want to hide away in your room and ruminate with your feelings about how lucky you are you get to live here, what you’ve been through, what you want to put behind you. When you want to be in silence and think if you did the right decision when you asked Joel for space.

What you don’t know is that Joel sees you as well. You’re everywhere. He can feel your eyes burning against his back when he walks in front of you, knowingly crossing the street so you can see him, his hands stuffed into his pockets, his hair windswept, the cold pinching his cheeks and nose, his footfalls sometimes slowing down just a little so he knows you’re a bit closer with your steps.

When he’s sitting in the dining hall, he always chooses a seat facing you even if you’re tables away from each other. He tries not to look at you, get immersed in the conversation going on around him, sometimes not really even paying attention to what his friends are saying until they laugh and he joins them out of politeness.

Or the times when he’s at The Tipsy Bison, enjoying a glass of alcohol of his choice, feeling the buzz warm his skin and know you’re around even if he doesn’t first see you. Just the thought that you’re in the same place as he is, is comforting in a way. That even when you agreed to give each other space, you’re still living in the same town, going to the same places, living this life with its ups and downs.

He sees you with Diana and Brenda when you help them with various tasks. You clear the walkway to their porch from snow or you get them groceries. You talk with people in the stables animatedly and your whole attention is on your work friends. Your hands fly in the air if you’re especially interested in the topic.

One afternoon he hears your laughter and since then he hasn’t been able to shake it from his mind. Since that day he craves for it, looks and chases it and finds it less frequently as he’d like. When he does hear it, he saves the sound into his memory and lets the sweet sound of your joy remind him that you’re healing. 

He sees the downs as well. When you’ve come to the dining hall alone, seeking solitude in the loudness of people and their presence. Sitting by yourself in one of the tables, slowly dipping your utensils into the food and taking slow bites before you wash it down with water.

The times when you take a bit longer when he comes get Beardy or he comes back from patrol and you press your face against the horses necks when you brush them. And he sees you around town, walking slowly, wrapped in a thick coat and scarf, your head covered with a hat that covers your ears, taking in the snowy landscape that glimmers in the occasional sunshine that manages to penetrate the usual, heavy grey blanket of clouds. And you try to breathe, the puff of smoke from your mouth sometimes so shaky that you press your palm against your chest and stop for a moment until you keep on going and hold your head a little higher. He can’t not think how far you’ve come. How good you’re doing. How happy he is every time he sees you.

When he does come face to face with you, he’s always a little nervous these days. He’s not really sure what he’d like to say just to hear your voice. His fingers tap against his thigh and he can’t even blink when he knows it’s a passing moment before your friends ask you to join them and you look back giving the softest of smiles in apology.

He keeps his head down. He gives you all the space that you need, as long as you want it. Just like you give him space.

Joel spends his time with Tommy and Maria and watches baby Matilda grow into an energetic little baby who spends her time wondering at the world around her. He listens to Ellie, understands her conflicting feelings, and wants to be there for her as much as she wants. It’s not easy with her, she hasn’t forgiven him yet. But sometimes her playfulness comes through and she lets him on the intricacies of her life.

She lets him in and he lets her share her load on his shoulders. They’ll possibly never be the same, she has told him that. But when she once said dad instead of Joel, her cheeks crimson red and her voice wavering with the question she had for him, the whole mess with the lie seemed miniscule for him. It might be a mess, but families are messy sometimes. It still doesn’t change the fact that they’re a family.

The winter starts to melt into a pleasant spring. It creeps up on you even though you’ve seen the signs in front of you each day. The birds move back. The days start to become longer and the sun warms your skin. You change your winter coat into a lighter jacket and there’s a smell of dust in the air when the streets clear of snow and dry in the sunlight. The first spring flowering bulbs push through the ground and joyful splashes of colour paint people’s front yards.

You move out of Diana and Brenda’s house into a small cottage with Gwen, a newcomer who stayed behind when a group of traders came through Jackson a couple of months back. She’s getting to know people, to know what she’d like to do now that she doesn’t have to travel around the country anymore.

She’s social and bubbly, making friends left and right and most nights she’s out of the house spending her time with new acquaintances. She mentioned she wants to start patrolling. She’s no stranger to weapons of any kind and she thinks it’s most suitable for her after years of living on the road, never in one place for too long. She misses the outside, the danger that she can now experience controlled.

You work together with Gwen to make your home yours. A neighbour offers you paintings they have in their garage, unused and left in the darkness. You collect the ones that go together the most and make an art wall in your living room, right opposite from your couch.

Neither of you is interested in a television so you replace it with a good record player and start collecting music of different genres. Gwen finds some on her patrols and some are brought to you when Gwen tells her new friends about wanting to find good music to listen to.

She’s the one who manages to find you notebooks to write in without you asking, a habit you picked up around the holidays, and she’s always encouraging you to write more. So when you go into your room in the evening, get ready for bed and look back on the day, you can write down observations or things you want to remember. Things you can focus on when you hit a rougher patch.

You keep doing your own thing. You work and enjoy the quietness of your day-to-day life. You have your own circle of people; Diana and Brenda, who you still help if they ask you to or go around theirs to have dinner or tea with them after Brenda has baked something. You go out with Dan and Sasha and some other people from the stables, usually ending up at The Tipsy Bison on weekends when everyone else seem to go out as well. It’s always busy there, it’s always tight to fit your whole group around a table, but it has become an end of week habit that you’ve fit into your routine.

You feel like you’re living. Life doesn’t feel like you’re on a seesaw, but on solid ground with some occasional downs. Even they don’t seem so bad anymore. Just a normal part of your being that you’ve come to accept and nurture.

Gwen is good at seeing those days on your face. She makes you breakfast and gives you your own space, but also doesn’t leave you alone. Usually on those days she makes the effort to make it home by dinner time so you can eat together and enjoy a quiet night in. She never forces her presence on you. She never makes you talk or doesn’t fill the quiet moments with useless noise. She lets you lead and she lets you be comforted by the fact that you’re not alone.

You like what you have going on. And as more time passes and the sun starts to heat up, you add more things into your routine. You take up hunting, going out with some selected few every once in a while, usually involving either Dan or Clara. You like those days in the woods, away from the buzzle of the town and in the middle of the waking nature.

You see the budding leaves on tree branches, hear the birds and the critters making their nests, a whole concert welcoming you into the embrace of their home. You watch the wilderness turn from different shades of white and grey, burst into luscious greens, glowing pastels and vivid pigments that take on the different hues of earthy warmth and contrasting brightness.

You smell life in the air after a cold and dry winter and welcome spring rains with open arms when you know it only melts the rest of the remaining snow and nourishes the hungry ground. Everything works in perfect synchrony, one piece falling into place and another always follows.

“Would you like to come for a quick patrol?” Clara asks one morning at the stables when she’s getting her horse. You look at her with doubt in your eyes, but she explains it to you. That it would be a one-time thing, just because her usual partner isn’t doing well and needs to take a bit of time off.

It would be to a close lookout, a usual route that doesn’t get a lot of traffic. It would just be a few hours and you’d be back well before lunch.

You say yes and ride out with her, a rifle once again on your shoulder, the cloudy day breaking with gentle sunrays and your cheeks tingling with warmth when you see Joel at the gate mounting Beardy. He does a double take, raises his brows and tips his chin in a silent hello when all patrollers are out the gates at the same time.

All of them give you long looks, some whispering to each other, but you only notice him when he looks back before he takes off in a gallop. You expect to see Jade riding next to him but are left with a shivering confusion when Gwen joins him and rides with him into the wild. You swallow down the uneasiness that wants to burn in your throat and find solace in Clara and her steady calmness.

It ends up being more than just a one-time thing. You should’ve known. Clara asks you for patrols almost every week for one day to give her usual partner a day off when her knee is giving her trouble. You always have a bit of time to prepare for it before you’re back on Willow and riding out with the group, separating onto your own trails. You start to know them well and the forest and old, small towns become familiar. Getting out of town doesn’t make you nervous or anxious anymore. It becomes something you look forward to.

She always asks you how you’ve been and what you’ve been up to. If there’s anything new you’ve done or experienced. If you’ve felt comfortable and are cared for in Jackson. And you always answer more truthfully the more you spend time with her. She becomes a friend who is kind to you, who listens to you, but is also opinionated and gives you tough love in the gentlest of ways.

“I know it might be hard sometimes, but there’s no one else to pick you up other than yourself.”

“Maybe you just need to look it from another point of view, to see that what you’re feeling might not be the one that you should trust.”

“Oh c’mon, you’re amazing, you don’t even need to doubt yourself or if you’re capable. You’ve learnt how to take down infected, you’ll learn how to cook!” That made you laugh because it was the oddest comparison, but also true.

Gwen’s friends usually bring you food that you get to eat a few days for leftovers, but when there’s nothing in the fridge, you have to come up with different dishes that you’re definitely not confident enough making yet. So it’s a challenge for you to learn a new skill, which you’ve been taking as an experience.

When you ride your horses with Clara, she has an ability to ease you and get you into the habit of patrolling with good focus but without the intense adrenaline rush that drowns out everything else in your mind. You feel like you’re present and your brain isn’t overwhelmed with the need to eliminate who you are. You’re working with someone if you come across infected, someone who you can trust and who has your back no matter what. You teach her your ways to be calm and without fear and you both benefit from learning from each other.

And sometimes she has this look on her face that almost says she knows you. She listens to you and her eyes narrow. She nods when you tell her bits and pieces of what your QZ was like or what kinds of shenanigans you sometimes got into with your siblings. You leave out the grimmer details about the dark alleyways and FEDRA soldiers but tell her about your escape from the QZ and what it took to live that life on the knife’s edge.

She tells you about her similar past. She was in a QZ but managed to get away before a rebellion took place and overtook FEDRA. She was one of the lucky ones because if you didn’t choose the side of the rebellion, you were seen as a sympathiser for the military state and soldiers. She didn’t end up wandering in the wild though, as she was already in contact with someone who had moved into Jackson when it was still just a few houses and a small group of people.

They needed more people to protect what was starting to grow into a safe community and she was more than happy to be part of that. What surprised you was that she had just graduated from college and had become a teacher for seven-year-olds right before the outbreak. Her parents owned a small bed and breakfast and hunted on their downtime. That’s how Clara learned to hunt as well, her skills with a gun still sharp from her folks like she had been doing this her whole life.

Her parents lived a humble life, but she wanted to move into a big city. She knows they didn’t make it. She went home a few years ago to see if the house was still standing and it was, though run down. And her skeletal parents were in their bed. There was a letter sealed into a safe that only she knew the combination to like the back of her own hand. They had written to her, telling her how they loved her but didn’t want to turn into those monsters so they handled it their own way.

It's an ordinary day at the stables when you realise it. It hits you like a rock on the head, making you stop working and pause for a moment. You feel like yourself again. And someone completely new. You’re a combination of both. You like this version of yourself. One who is sensitive but strong, who pushes you to try new things but also gives you kindness when it all starts to overwhelm you. You get to know this new you, like it’s a person you haven’t met before even though this new person also feels like someone you’ve known your whole life. You just haven’t had the chance to meet them before.

Yet you feel like you’re missing something.

You’ve just woken up. Someone’s knocking at the door when you’re still rubbing the crumbs of sleep from the corner of your eye and you can’t really comprehend everything that is happening around you. You stumble out of your room and knock on Gwen’s door, only to find it ajar and her room empty. You have no idea where she is but don’t have time to think about it more, when you hear the knocking again.

Last night was a long one. You were at The Tipsy Bison first with Gwen, Dan and Sasha until you ended up coming home with a jar of Dan’s home-made blend of cider that he gave you for tasting. Gwen was adamant for you to try it at the end of your night even when you were already tired and your eyes felt heavy from the alcohol you had consumed earlier. You still ended up taking a couple glasses of it, dancing in your living room to a tune from one of the records without really following the rhythm.

The song just felt good in your body and you let it sway you on your feet. You leaned against Gwen, twirled each other under your arms and laughed until your stomach felt like you had done a workout. It wasn’t until late that night when you dragged yourself to sleep, crashing face first into your pillows and pulled the duvet over your tired body.

Sleep didn’t take you away though. You thought it would be easy, but you ended up rolling in your bed trying to find comfort against your mattress. Your bed just seemed wrong. You ended up keeping your eyes open, staring out the dark window with the curtains pulled to the side. You could see some stars dotting the sky faintly against the deep backdrop.

You thought about that feeling of missing something you’ve had for a while now. An emptiness that is always clawing somewhere under everything else. A sense of loneliness that is sometimes more present and sometimes you forget it and realise it exists after a long day when you get to calm down and be alone with yourself.

There’s no denying where that feeling comes from. Who it’s caused by. Joel.

You miss talking with him, his low vibrating voice, his attentive presence and his broad figure making you focus only on him and what you’re talking to him about. You miss hearing him tell you things, the grim jokes you two had. You miss getting to know him. You want to know more of him. You’d want to delve into his mind and hear his quiet voice tell you whatever he likes. Be it something that is inconsequential or something that shaped him into being who he is today.

You’ve had enough of this space. You made a decision in the lonely hours of the night. When you see him, no matter where that is or who he is with, no matter when it will happen, you’ll go talk with him and ask if he’d like to maybe someday have lunch with you after your work day is done. Or if he’d like to go to the bar for drinks some evening. Or if you could come and visit, or if he’d like to visit your new home so he could see where you live and what it’s like. He has probably heard where you live. News travels fast in this town and everyone knows what’s happening with everyone save for the details. And sometimes the details are included. You want to show him that you’re interested, that you’d like to be more present in his life. If he’d also like to be more present in yours.

Now in the bright, early sunlight the decision is still there but much more tentative. It’s easy to be decisive when it’s the middle of the night and your brain loses all boundaries. You can’t lie to yourself when your thoughts are flying a hundred miles a minute and you can barely keep up. It’s quick decisions and assuredness in the dark. In the daylight those decisions are followed with shyness and realization that you’re being hasty.

You should be discreet when you talk with him to not get all the town blabbermouths gossiping about your interest in the roughened man that is known as dependable and charming. The patroller who gets people to turn their heads when he walks past, respected by his peers and people who hear about how he helped someone fix their roof or checked over their pipes on top of keeping the town safe. Someone solid and dependable. That would get people talking no matter what he’d say. Either you’d become someone who pursues him and gets turned down or someone who caught the infamous Joel Miller, the more somber one of the brothers.

You have a dull headache, nothing you can’t handle, but still there reminding you of being dehydrated and needing some food in your stomach. You open the lock and let in the kind spring breeze that surrounds Ellie.

“Morning!” She greets, an enthusiastic smile on her face, energetic twinkle in her eye and sweet blush on her cheeks.

“Morning,” you croak and clear your throat. You step aside and let her in. She’s almost bouncing on her toes but you’re still too tired to really notice her. She toes her shoes off and follows you into the kitchen. You hear her humming a tune and your brain is finally coming back to life when you get some cold water down your throat.

“What’s up Ellie?” You turn towards her and she’s fiddling with her fingers while a smirk only grows on her face.

“I wanted to ask you something, a favor of sorts?” Her voice is on the brink of a giggle.

“What do you have in mind?”

“I was wondering if you could train me?” The glass in your hand stops against your lips and the water touches them but you don’t drink any of it. Ellie balances herself against the counter, her palms pressing down on it, and she can’t stop shifting forwards and backwards, like she’s riding a non-existent wave.

“Train you how?” You don’t even know why you’re asking. Of course you know what she means.

“My patrol training starts in a few weeks when I’m done with school but I was thinking if you could maybe show me a thing or two so they won’t think I’m a total rookie.”

“But you are?”

“I know, but still. Let’s call it skill refreshing?” Her hopeful spark is waking you up more than the water did.

“And when did you plan for this to happen?”

“Today?” She grimaces, but with a smile that only makes you chuckle.

“Is there a reason it has to happen today?” You can’t help but think there is a big, broad, fatherly reason she’s knocking on your door at this hour of the morning, excited as one can be, asking for you to give her a lesson in whatever weapon handling she wants to learn more of.

“Well…” She looks at you under her brow and the pink tint on her cheeks only deepens. At the same time your suspicions are confirmed. “Joel is out on patrol and I don’t have anything better to do today so I was wondering if you were free? I haven’t seen you in a while either so it could be fun.”

“Uh-huh,” you call out her bluff without actually saying anything. Maybe she wasn’t even trying to make her explanation sound convincing. You can tell from how she’s acting that she had thought about this a while and as soon as Joel was out the door, she was also ready to leave the house.

“Does Joel know?” The question hits a nerve that doesn’t cause any harm, but her jerky shake of her head makes you wonder if this is a good idea at all.

“I think he’d say yes. He’s supportive of patrol training so why wouldn’t he want me to know a thing or two beforehand?” She’s almost desperate, leaning her whole body against the kitchen counter. You let her sit with her words for a moment while you finish the glass of water and turn from her to wash it and put it on a drying rack next to the sink.

“Fine,” you get to say before she starts to actually jump up and down on the balls of her feet. “But not yet, I want to have a shower and have something to eat first. Meet me at the shooting range at midday okay?” She nods the whole time words tumble out of your mouth.

“Do I bring my own gun?” She asks and starts to walk towards the door, picking her backpack off the floor. You lift your hand up, stopping her from opening it. If you know her at all, she already has the gun with her.

“No, they’ll have enough guns. And do you really have your own gun?” You can’t help but wonder if Joel would be pleased about knowing she’s carrying one around. It’s not forbidden for people to have their own weapons but you’re sure it wouldn’t be seen as responsible for an underage teenager to be carrying her own gun around.

“It’s Joel’s, I’m just borrowing it.”

“Does he know you’re borrowing it?” The question makes a tight smile appear on her face and she drops the backpack on the floor gently. “That’s a no then,” you mutter loud enough for her to hear as well.

“Just put the gun back where you found it and we’ll meet a bit later.” She’s out the door with a litany of thank you’s and a cheery see ya hollered your way. At least this will be a good reason for you to go talk with Joel, even if you’re also planning on telling him that you’d like to break the space.

The shooting range is empty save for the one working there, surprised to see you asking for a rifle and a handgun to practice with. She gives you both, her eyes big like she’s starstruck by your presence. You duck your head and thank for the guns and the ammo and go outside, checking the targets.

The shooting range isn’t really a shooting range but a makeshift practice field for people to learn how to use different types of weapons. Trees, hills and rocks litter the area, leading to the fences of the town, having enough space for different types of practice grounds.

One area is secured for guns, one for hand-to-hand combat training under the sky. There are some dirtied dummies brought from an old gymnasium and a couple handmade ones with hay and weeds poking through the durable fabrics that have been sliced through over and over again with knives and arrows.

It doesn’t matter that the mannequins are in the hands of the weather and seasons. Patrol trainees need to learn in the most authentic ways possible and it’s not going to happen under fluorescent lights, padded floors and flat terrain. It takes a lot of hard work to be able to handle the outside world and the physical demands of it.

You set up different targets for Ellie in different proximities. Some smaller ones are peppered closer and further, with some of the bigger ones in the back, peeking behind a rock and a couple of trees. You hold the guns, the rifle strap over your shoulder, the hand gun in the back of your jeans, with ease, like this is something you do regularly. Teach teens how to use those weapons and how to prepare the practice field for different types of aiming and weapons.

As you’re walking back towards the small boxes where you’ll be spending your time with Ellie, she’s already standing there, waving at you with a huge smile on her face. She has her backpack with her but you hope she left Joel’s gun at home.

“Where do you want me?” She offers when you get close enough. You point towards the wooden stalls and she springs into a brisk walk to reach the one you’ve prepared before you do. You show her where she can put her bag and stand still for a moment as you don’t really know how to begin.

You’ve never taught anyone how to do any of these things, especially a teenager who is like a sponge for any information you’ll give her. Ellie waits patiently. Her eyes drift to the gun on your shoulder but she doesn’t push it. Ellie doesn’t demand for you to do something as you look towards the field and think back how you learnt everything.

You didn’t learn from Peter because you necessarily wanted to. You went to him because you had learnt to trust him when it came to your sister sneaking around past curfew to get things you needed or ration cards by exchanging goods that were sometimes seen as contraband. Medication, booze, even basic first aid kit materials, sometimes fruits that someone had somehow gotten from some other people.

They kept taps on her, but what she was doing sometimes saved you from going broke or hungry. In desperate times, some desperate measures didn’t even seem desperate when you got to know Peter better and you became a regular visitor in his bedroom after hours.

The way he taught you wasn’t in a secure location. You didn’t face off with dummies and little trinket targets. He took you up on the wall in the middle of the night, when he was on duty, and gave you a lesson in how to shoot infected from afar.

Afterwards he always wanted to trade with you for his knowledge. That usually ended up with you giving him a sneaky handjob while he tried to stay silent or you let him hold you down while he fed his cock past your lips, spit dribbling down your chin.

When he wasn’t on duty, he gave you a sheathed knife and he told you to attack him in his room. You might’ve wrestled with him for hours while he taught you how to get him down, how to attack him from behind, how to dominate him with the secured knife. You always knew the roles were going to be reversed after you were sweaty, tired and burning limbed from all the exercise. The line between teaching and foreplay were blurred and you saw it on him when his intentions of getting you naked and on the bed became clear.

When he deemed you ready enough to face infected, and eventually people, it wasn’t a quick process. You spent a good while with him teaching you and you remember waiting for that day when you could take the knife out of its sheath and touch it against skin.

You were nervous, but more importantly ready when he gave you his FEDRA handgun to use while he had his hands on your shoulders, keeping you steady as you two snuck out of the QZ. The weight of his palms creeps up on you, like he’s standing behind you at this moment. His mouth was glued to your ear as he gave you instructions reminding you of the ways to keep yourself unwavering. He told you to focus on the target and get the job done.

The rush was like a drug. The blood in your body whooshed in your ears when he took you by the hand and walked you back into his room. That was the first and only night he made you cum and you’re not sure if it happened because of him or because you were still so excited of what you had done earlier.

Learning was an exchange with him that you now later look at as a cruel way to use you, which you didn’t really understand as a fresh adult. He wasn’t much older than you but he had learnt it all from the other soldiers. He was brought up in the world of using others and taking from them whatever they were ready to offer. You just did what you thought you were meant to do. And here you are, about to teach a teenager who is younger than you were when you learnt everything about killing. There’s no pressure or demands, just you and Ellie, guns and a shooting range.

“What do you already know?” You turn back to Ellie and realise that you need to ask it. She said she knows some things already and you have to know where to begin with her.

“Well… In FEDRA school we were taught how to handle a gun and how to aim, but Joel showed me how to really hold and use it.”

“Okay, then we’ll start with those.” You give her the unloaded handgun first and watch her stand with her back stiff, her legs spread wider and her knees slightly bent, her arms holding the gun like she’s in some action movie you remember seeing on TV when you were a child and your parents weren’t too happy when they realized what you were watching.

“Where did you learn that from?” She looks at you questioningly and you get the gun from her hands, showing her the right stance.

“The hands were right—”

“Uh-huh, Joel showed me that.” You smile warmly at her and stand next to her, lifting your arms up but keep your elbows relaxed and feel the natural posture your body is always searching for.

“You were also on the right tracks with the stance, but you can’t be stiff like a metal pipe, firmness is better than total stiffness.” You instruct her to stand like you do, with her other hand ready for the gun. You place it against her open palm and make her move her limbs one at a time to get her to feel the different angles and parts of herself that activate while the gun rests in her hands. You talk her through the whole aiming process and make her press the trigger even when nothing is going to happen.

“You ready for the real thing?” She nods eagerly so you move slowly when you load the gun and make her watch you shoot once, at a target close by. You tell her what you’re doing, how you’re doing it, she sees you take a deep breath and relax against the weapon in your hand before you press the trigger and the loud BANG rings in your ears even when you’re wearing ear covers. They’ve seen their best days. The sound isolation isn’t the best anymore, but at least it’s something. Or you can say you used them even if they didn’t really protect your ears.

Ellie has her back straight and her chin up when you give her the gun while you make sure that she holds it securely with the safety on.

“Tell me what you’re doing,” you instruct Ellie and she does. Like you thought, she listened like a hawk when she explains everything back to you, even repeating the same words and tones you used. She hesitates for a moment when the last thing she’s supposed to do is shoot. You wait for her take a few breaths, but when she doesn’t do anything, you’re ready to jump in and get the gun from her to empty it so you can do some more dry runs.

“Let’s put the safety back—” you begin, but she takes one, more audible breath and then shoots the gun. She flinches from the recoil but stands her ground. You both look at the target that is now on the ground, blown off its place. A smile starts to appear on her face, but you can’t have her lose her focus, not just yet.

“Do the next,” you encourage, and she does. She takes her time, aims and makes sure she’s calm when she shoots. When all the closer targets are down, her hands are slightly shaking, but her excitement is palpable.

She takes the rest of the ammo out and gives the gun back to you. She almost throws the ear covers to the ground but decides against it just at the last second and hangs them on the wall. They sway from side to side as she takes steps back and finally starts to laugh. It comes from somewhere deep inside her, blooming from her chest and bursting with her excitement.

“Fuck that was so cool!” She yells and you can’t but laugh with her and celebrate her success.

“Are you ready for the rifle?” You ask her when she has stopped jumping up and down and her pacing has gotten most of her big emotions into check. She nods and comes back to you for you to teach her how to use the bigger weapon.

“Has Joel taught you anything about shooting a rifle before?”

“Yes. He said to take a deep breath and give a slow breath out. To squeeze the trigger ‘like I love it’,” she lowers her voice and you know that that was exactly what he told her to do. “Gentle, steady, nice and slow,” her head sways from side to side as she keeps on mimicking his low rumble.

“And did it work?”

“He says I flinches so he showed me and that fucker shot the target like a pro!” She exclaims it like it’s the most infuriating thing that has ever happened to her. Her burst of disappointment in herself and Joel managing to use the gun the way she would’ve liked makes you grin. “But I did manage to shoot a deer once,” she admits, but her voice lowers and there’s a hint of fear that tells you that it wasn’t because they were hunting just for her to learn how to use a rifle.

“Let’s take it one step at a time then, you’ll get rid of the flinching. But he was right, you have to treat the rifle like you’ve missed it and want to give it some love.”

“Oh don’t say you also want to get it pregnant,” Ellie sighs.

“What?” You’re not sure if you heard her right.

“Nothing, let’s do this.” So you did hear right. You try to shake it out of your mind and visibly shake your head to bring yourself back into this moment.

You look at her take aim and it’s better though she clearly has some trouble with the weight of the gun. You let her get used to it as you do some imagery training with the targets that are further away. She makes you shoot a couple of times until you give the gun into her hands and she prepares by stretching her neck and holding the gun firmly, but gently in her hands.

“Focus on the target,” your low voice fills the space between you two as you lean a little forward, watching the target she’s going for.

When the rifle goes off, Ellie flinches and the target stays unscathed from her aim. She sighs in disappointment and you give her support by lifting her elbow a little higher.

“Let’s go again, it’s okay, you can do this.” She takes a deep breath in and lets it slowly out through her mouth and focuses on the target.

“Dammit,” she whispers when the bullet passes the dummy again.

“This time you didn’t flinch that much though, it’s already a win. Do you want a break or go again?”

“Let’s go again.” She’s determined, you have to give her that. She’s frustrated, you can tell. This isn’t going as easily as with the pistol but she’s not giving up.

“Now, watch the target, lean just a little bit against the rifle, let it work with you,” you instruct her and drop your hands from her elbow. You watch as she prepares herself and finally shoots. She barely flinches and the bullet graces against the arm of the dummy.

“There you go! Do that again, you’ll find it.” You can’t help but feel excited for her even when you keep it subdued and mellow as she steels herself for the next shot.

She shoots twice more, all of them getting better and she gets a feel of the gun.

“One more,” she says and you stand back and watch her take control. She looks almost like a natural with the way she stands and holds the rifle and the flinch is finally gone when she shoots again. It hits right in the middle of the dummy’s chest.

Her arms start to droop immediately and you take the gun from her, kicking the empty shelling at your feet against the wooden walls on either side of you.

“How did that feel?” You ask her when you secure the rifle and watch her shake her arms and pace back and forth with the most awed expression on her face.

“I want to try again, for the targets behind the obstacles, but give me a second, my arms are aching,” she chuckles and you let her take her time before she comes back next to you and takes position.

When the sun moves across the sky and starts to shine into your eyes, you decide you’ve had enough for the day.

“You want to go for lunch?” Ellie asks when you’re returning the guns to the starstruck woman at the range and walk out of the little cottage where all the weapons are held.

“Yeah, sure!” You walk side by side, while Ellie can’t stop thanking you for teaching her.

“It was nothing, thanks for asking.”

“I was wondering, you know how to use a knife as well?” Her hopeful eyes lead you to her next question. You just raise your brows and let her continue. “I have a switchblade and I’d like to learn to use it like you use your knife. Would you give me some help with that as well?”

“On one condition.” You open the dining hall door for her and she steps in. It’s not too crowded, but there’s still plenty of people to make the vast room echo with chatter and the warmth is amplified with the food. Ellie looks at you curiously.

“If you tell Joel that you’re already taking lessons, I’ll teach you.”

“Okay!” Maybe you weren’t expecting her to be so forthcoming but you’re not complaining. It’s for the best if he knows she’s learning combat already and you don’t feel like you’re sneaking around doing something that you’re not supposed to.

You watch Ellie load up her plate full of roasted vegetables and chickpeas and take a more tentative amount on your plate while she’s already searching a table for you to sit at. She waves you over even when you see her clearly. She’s easy to pinpoint with that beaming smile she has on her face.

“You should’ve said you were hungry, we could’ve left earlier,” you point your fork towards her lunch and she shakes her head with her mouth full. She hums and you wait for her to swallow so she gets her words out.

“I didn’t mind,” she loads another forkful, “I didn’t really notice being hungry until we were done with the rifle.”

“Time flies when you’re doing something fun, huh?” She nods eagerly as you get to taste the food in front of you. You savor the fresh flavors and crunchy chickpeas. Someone’s done something new to them, they taste a bit different, a bit toastier and heartier than before.

You hear someone speaking on the next table over about a few patrols coming in, how they were confused about the changes made to the usual pairings. It’s not unusual for people to switch their partner for patrols, but it did make people raise their brows when long time partners were suddenly willing to look for change.

“When would you be free for our next lesson?” Ellie asks conversationally but the question is everything but a kind gesture. “I can tell Joel about you teaching me later today when he comes home,” she points out and tries to stay casual with her tone. You can tell she’s hiding her excitement under her words.

“Next weekend?” You ask but realize you ask it more from yourself than her. If you’re really going to teach her what you know about knife handling, you might have to plan it a bit more so your meetings won’t turn unsafe and Ellie gets to learn just the basics. She doesn’t have to learn everything from you. As she said, she wants a refresh for her skills. Then again, you’re not sure how much experience she has with her knife.

“Yeah, that’ll work!” She can’t hide her joy any longer, though she stuffs her mouth full and that mellows some of the force behind her exclamation.

“You’ve used your knife before?” You expect her to finish the bite but she ends up pulling her backpack on her lap and rummaging through it while chewing. You eat slowly and your mind starts to wander as she’s elbow deep in her bag. How that same bag Ellie was carrying when you hiked with her and Joel right after they had found you. That same backpack has gone through adventures you have no idea about, but they all involve Joel.

This girl in front of you is his daughter and you haven’t really spoken with him for months. She’s asking your help because she saw you taking down infected and might’ve thought it was skilful or cool. You all know each other, but there’s a disconnect and the more you think about it, the harder it is to make that connection whole again with Joel.

She finally lifts her hand up and in her fist she has the handle of her knife. She holds it out for you and you take it gently into from her. The cherry red wood is in stark contrast with the bright metal. You release the blade and admire the sharpness of it. She’s taken good care of it as it’s carefully cleaned and incredibly sharp.

“It’s beautiful.” You secure the blade and hand the switchblade back to her, but she holds it in her hand and twists it in her fingers like it’s the first time she’s seeing it.  

“I’ve always had it. My mom gave it to me.” The wistful tone takes you aback. She doesn’t have to say much more about her mother to know that the knife isn’t just any gift from a parent to their child.

“That’s why I want to learn how to use it properly, so I won’t be just carrying it around,” she shrugs her shoulders and hides the switchblade in a pocket on the front of her backpack. “I have used it before, but I can’t do what you did with your knife,” she smiles tentatively.

“I don’t think we’ll ever match in combat styles because we are two different people.” Your remark takes her by surprise. She looks like she’s deep in thought before she faces you with openness in her eyes.

“But you think I could learn, right?”

“Absolutely, that’s not what I meant. I’ve been using a knife for years, you’re still a child and knowing how to use one takes time. You grow into the weapon, to learn the feel of it in a serious situation. It’s different when we’re holding your switchblade now compared to when you’re about to take out infected with it. You’ll learn, don’t worry about that. But you’ll find what works best and most efficiently for you.” The more you ramble on, the more her expression relaxes and her shoulders round down.

“Have you always used a knife?” She asks suddenly and continues eating.

“I’ve had it for years, but I didn’t start learning with a knife. I’ve always enjoyed the physicality behind it more than with a gun though, there’s something intimate when you’re handling a knife.”

“You sound like Joel and how he talks about guns.” You grin at her remark.

“I think the more you use a weapon, you come to know them pretty well and what is your personal favorite. You’ll find that out some day.” She listens to your words and hangs onto them. It takes her a while before she smiles a genuine soft smile, like you’ve told her a prediction of her future.

“Why do you want to become a patroller?” People walk past your table, some with finished plates, some with steaming lunches piled on theirs, and there’s more turnaround now as late afternoon rolls in.

“I don’t really know,” she considers your question for a while. You can see the wheels turning in her head.

“I think I want to make a change even if I can’t do much. I want to do something.” Her voice quiets and she hides her face from you.

“I think you’ll do a lot. You’re a quick learner and people like you, who want to do something good for their community, are always welcome.”

“I guess.” She pushes the last remaining chickpeas around her plate. Her shoulders sag.

“Is everything okay?” You can’t help but ask. She straightens her back and there’s sadness in her eyes, uncertainty that wasn’t there before.

She wants to say something, the air is thick with the pressure that she radiates to get herself talking. Her lips quiver slightly like she’s about to open her mouth but then decides against it right at the last second, until she starts to doubt herself again and the same wobble happens once more. She takes a deep breath and you think she’s going to say something, but she just exhales and a flash of determination washes over her.

“I feel… guilty sometimes.”

“About what?” Another inner battle, a much stronger one. She’s evaluating you in the dining hall and you feel like you’re alone with her.

The other people around you are just props who don’t hear or see you. You’re in your own bubble with Ellie and she’s trying to decide if she can trust you. Truly count on you with whatever she’s mulling over in her head, whether you will understand her or turn her down.

“You don’t have to tell me, it’s okay,” you decide to give her an out and she takes it immediately. She nods tightly, once, but the mood shifts around her and she visibly relaxes. Some things are better left unsaid, especially when it causes her so much inner turmoil. You can’t help but wonder what it could be about but it’s also none of your business. Maybe you’ll find out one day, maybe you won’t. It’s better to give her the peace of mind that she needs.

You only have a little of your food left when the people from the next table stand up and they’re leaning towards each other. It doesn’t change the fact that they’re still talking loud enough for you to hear everything they’re saying.

“I wonder if something happened between them. Jade is wonderful, but Joel has always intimidated me. Maybe they fell out?”

“I heard the new one is into him, she pushed for the switch. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d get together,” the other says and shrugs her shoulders while the other makes the most scandalous, drawn-out ooh sound you’ve heard in this town.

“Imagine, the quiet one and the social butterfly. What a couple that would make!” They both laugh and you hear it echoing as they move away from you.

Some people like to gossip, you know that. You’ve experienced it firsthand. But when people you know are mentioned, people who you have a personal relation to, something spills inside your chest. Your fork pauses against the plate and you strategically take a few pieces of your lunch and look up with a forced smile. Ellie looks at you immediately, waiting for whatever you’re about to do.

“How has it been going at home?” You kick yourself in your head. You sound like a teacher who wants to inquire if their student is doing okay after missing homework too many times. You fill your mouth and chew slowly to make sure she won’t ask you any questions about your intentions.

“Yeah, it’s been fine.” She says, but her smile becomes a little more mischievous, more of a smirk than a kind smile really. “Joel’s been experimenting in the kitchen. It hasn’t been that bad.” She shrugs and you have to hide your smile from her by piercing a few of the last pieces of lunch with your fork and lifting it to your lips.

“And everything’s been better with Joel?” This is not subtle at all. She can see right through your weak attempts at hiding your interest in finding out how Joel has been.

“Mmhmm, things are better, thanks.” Oh no, she’s not giving you anything else. She’s baiting you to be more direct, to reveal what you’re really doing.

“We’ve been spending more time together.” Oh. She might be kinder than you thought. “Movie nights and Matilda comes over sometimes. I also heard him play the guitar once, but I think he got embarrassed.”

“He played it for you?” The question is out of your mouth before she can close hers.

“Nah, I was hanging out in my garage with friends and came in to get snacks when I heard him playing. He usually plays when I’m not around and stopped right away when he saw I had come in. He has shown me a thing or two now though. I might pick it up and actually start playing if he’s still up for teaching me.” She tells you about it proudly, but with a hint of softness that penetrates whatever curiosity you have of finding out what Joel’s been up to. The guitar is so much more than just a guitar for him. Ellie being open to learning it makes your heart swell with warmth, a tingle of pride heating your cheeks.

“He’s going to show me a couple of chords later, when he’s back from patrol.”

“He goes out for patrols a lot?” You know he does. You’ve seen the lists at the stables that tell you when he and Gwen are going out but haven’t wanted to pay much more attention to it than making sure the horses are ready when they’re about to leave.

“Now more with his new patrol partner, yeah.” Your chest clenches but you keep smiling. “She’s all over him sometimes, giggling and hanging onto his shoulder. And they always go for lunch afterwards and she has brought him stuff at home too before they go talk in the other room. He’s never been like that with anyone.” You feel it, the feeling that pulls your cheeks tight against the smile and you have to fight the pressure in your shoulders. Jealousy.

You want to wipe it out of you and make it disappear. You want to forget you ever even felt it. You don’t want to feel jealous over anyone. Especially when you have no right being jealous over Joel who is free to do whatever he wants with whoever he wants.

Gwen is wonderful. You’re not surprised he'd be into her and her sunshine personality compared to your rainclouds, dark nights, and usual partly sunny tendencies. She’s sparkly and you’re quietness. She’s social while you take a step back and observe. You’d be into her as well if you were him.

“Well…” You chuckle uncomfortably, pick the last pieces of your lunch, and force them into your mouth. You don’t taste anything when you swallow the food, just take a big gulp of your water, and stand up abruptly.

“We should probably head out.” You still have that fake smile on your face and it’s making you more and more uncomfortable the longer you hold it. Faint lines form on Ellie’s forehead as she watches you rush to get out of the dining hall.

“So we’ll see each other next week?” She asks when you step outside.

“Yeah, same time same place, if you tell Joel,” you remind her but even saying his name makes your stomach churn. How on earth did you think last night that you could rekindle whatever it was you had with him last autumn. Of course he has moved on. You took too long and you have no one else to blame than yourself.

“Of course!” She smiles and you wave each other goodbye.

When you walk back home, you’re afraid you’re going to see him there with Gwen. The fear comes out of nowhere but you can’t stop it ploughing through every rational thought you have left. The anxiety hits you like a load of rocks and the voice in your head only gets louder as you get closer to home.

They’re probably already in love. She knew what she wanted and went for it. They’ll get married and have a big party and you’ll have to attend because you’re her housemate. And she’ll move out and they’ll live with Ellie. And he’ll play the guitar for her and she’ll get to enjoy his undivided attention without anything getting in the way. And he’ll cherish her and keep her safe, literally as they keep on patrolling together. And they’ll grow old together and you’ll stay alone, at the sidelines.

Stop, you have to tell yourself. You close the front door behind you and your chest is heaving. Cold sweat surfaces in your arm pits and you have to lean your back against the door to keep yourself from falling over from the overwhelm. Your home is as quiet as it can be. You left the window in the kitchen open earlier and a bird is singing up on a branch in the big birch tree.

“Hello? Gwen?” Your voice shakes. When you don’t get an answer, you’re happy she’s not here to listen to your pathetic voice and seeing your jealousy blooming in full force. You don’t know what to do with yourself. You had no idea you could even feel this way, let alone have that jealousy directed at your friend. You can’t stay home.

You open the door again and walk to Diana and Brenda’s. They’re planting something on the porch and greet you with open arms as you try to be brave. Diana pulls you inside with an empathic look on her face, sensing something’s going on. Brenda makes you tea and doesn’t say anything when you start unravelling all those difficult feelings clashing inside of you.

“People were talking that they have something going on,” you rub at your temples while embarrassment takes over. You never thought you’d be someone whining after a crush but here you are.

“Are you sure? Joel is definitely more into you than Gwen,” Brenda’s tone makes you look at her and see her face twisted in confusion.

“Honey,” Diana shushes with a shake of her head. You only groan and let Diana talk you out of the worst gloominess while Brenda keeps on watching you like a doubtful hawk.

When you finally walk home late in the evening, you can level with yourself. Even if you’re jealous, your care for others is bigger. What you’ll have to do is be supportive. Life goes on and if they live happily ever after, it doesn’t mean you’ll stay alone.

“Hi!” Gwen’s chirpy voice greets you from the kitchen as you step inside and lean your back against the door to take a breath.

“Hey,” you still sound weak but not weak enough to make her worry.

“How was your day?” You ask her when you’ve taken your jacket and boots off, joining her in the kitchen where she’s making something in a small pot. You smell something savory cooking on the stove and a hint of hunger grumbles in your stomach. She’s almost dancing around the table, picking out a flowery bowl for you, matching it with her striped one.

“It was great! Patrol went good, had great company, everything was really nice. What about you, what did you end up doing?”

“I didn’t even know you were supposed to go out for patrol today?” The question comes out pricklier than you intended.

“It was a last minute thing, but it was fine. Got my headache cleared out in the forest.” She pours the soup into your bowl and then hers and when she sits down, she looks at you with blushing cheeks and her eyes sparkle.

“I was out with Ellie, she wanted to learn to shoot better,” you tell her as she’s still waiting for your answer.

“Oh yeah I heard rumors you’re quite the badass! What do they call you…” She snaps her fingers together and as she says, “Oh yeah, Savvy,” you repeat the nickname at the same time but no voice passes your lips.

You pick up your spoon and taste the steamy dinner. You might still feel the jealousy creeping under your skin but can’t deny how grateful you are that Gwen made you both such a delicious dinner.

“Did you make this?” You have to slow down to be able to enjoy it a bit longer. The setting sun pours in through the kitchen window and blinds you. It doesn’t seem to bother Gwen who is smiling and wiggling slowly from side to side in her seat, like she’s hearing music you’re not able to.

“You’d know if I was this good of a cook,” she giggles. “I got it from Joel, he had a huge pot of it in his fridge.” You swallow harshly but keep smiling. You watch her under the palm of your hand as you try to shield your sensitive eyes from the orange glow of spring.

Gwen looks happy. Her eyes shine and her smile looks like it’s never going to leave her lips. Everything about her tells you she’s excited about what’s happening in her life.

“You’ve become close?” You try to not sound nosy. You’re just making conversation with your friend, you convince yourself.

“Uh-huh,” she hums and looks at you straight in the eyes. Your spoon stops in the air as she nails you in your place. “We had a good conversation today, he’s so interesting and insightful. I’m so lucky I have him as my patrol partner.” She beams at you. You can’t help but smile back at her even though you still feel the green-eyed monster clawing inside your chest trying to close your throat up.

“I understand why some might think he’s a bit intimidating, but I’ve seen men like him all over this country while I was still travelling with the group.” She takes a bit of soup and sighs around her spoon when she pushes it into her mouth. You copy her and feel the hearty dinner warm you from the inside out.

“I think he’s resourceful, careful, a bit reserved but he’s a big softy when you know what buttons to push.” She giggles and reminds you of Ellie when she was telling those bad jokes to you and Joel last year. You have to tilt your face away from her. The ghost of the kiss from months ago pushes itself into the forefront of your thoughts and lingers there, teasing you with the hold he still has on you.

“And you know what?” She leans her forearms against the table and waits for you to react.

“What?” You lift your gaze and see her expression melting.

“He’s so gentle hearted. When you get to know him, he’s so incredibly caring and thoughtful. He respects the people around him and he wants to make sure the people he cares about are safe. You should hear how he talks about some people.” She nods her head towards you slowly and squints her eyes. They glint in the low light of the spring evening. You smile at her gently. She deserves this. She deserves to feel that safety after being out there in the wild for so long. If she has found that with Joel, then there’s nothing else to do than to be happy.

You think about your jealousy as quiet settles between the two of you. You understand the feeling and where it comes from. When you’re alone in your room at night, in the quiet, you can’t deny you haven’t wanted him.

You’ve missed his voice, even the way he held your hand. You’ve been wanting to feel that same touch again, but all over you. It’s not just the physicality of him though. You miss the connection, the broadness of him invading your personal space slowly at first, but then in all its glory so there is nothing else than him. You could’ve talked with him after the first time you realised you miss him. You should’ve admitted it to yourself sooner. You would’ve had a chance. Now life moves on and you only have to accept it.

“You want to do something this evening?” Gwen asks you as she takes your empty bowl to the sink and starts to wash them immediately.

“I think I’ll just have an early night, I’m still pretty tired from yesterday.” She laughs with her sing song voice that always manages to bring up a smile on your face.

“I get it. You have to save some fun for next weekend as well.” She places one of the bowls on the counter, still dripping and soapy. She looks domestic in the cream colored kitchen, all sunlight and laughter, her hair in a ponytail that swings against her back every time she moves.

You fade away from her and pull into your bedroom that is now shrouded in shadows. The setting sun creeps across your deep blue walls and creates a contrast that sucks you in. You enjoy the sun, but you need your darkness. You need the warmth, without it you wouldn’t be able to face all parts of yourself. The jealousy washes over you and you let it. You examine it, like it’s a thing you can take into your hands and look at. You breathe against it and chip away at the thoughts it whispers into your ears.

You make a decision. You care about him. You care about Gwen. People need people, they need love. He deserves it. Gwen can give it without taking space. So you’ll be happy for him. Your jealousy is fleeting. In the end, so are your feelings for him. it might hurt for a while but you’ll get over it. And when that happens, you’ll see how it was all supposed to go that way.

Just at this moment you can’t see it, but you will eventually.

So you keep your head down. You keep working, you help Brenda and Diana when they need it and you spend time with your friends. You get a bit too drunk some nights when you’re out with them. You play music too loud in the house and Gwen joins you as you both belt out the songs as best as you can, not caring if it’s on key or not.

You go hunting with Dan and on shorter patrols with Clara. You answer her questions about living with a housemate, what Gwen is like and what it has been like living in your own house. She’s so gracious when you talk about the tougher times and she’s happy you have someone like Gwen brightening your days. Sometimes she notices you need a distraction and she tells you about her days and attempts at painting her home to match her personality better. Her gentle words about Joel helping her and showing her how to fix basic things around her home always make you smile even if you want it or not.

And you see Joel. At the stables, when you pass by each other on the streets, at The Tipsy Bison. He’s always present, and you’re always aware of him. You keep your distance even more, careful to not cross any boundaries. At the dining hall your eyes always search for him if you know he’s been out on patrol with Gwen. Every time you find him and he’s in a deep conversation with her. Some other times you think he turns his gaze away from you. But you can’t be sure so you don’t think about it too much. It is what it is, the ship has sailed and you just have to get over it.

April turns to May, and May turns to June. Summer sweeps across the town slowly and over one night at the same time. At first the mornings are hazy and there’s still some crispness in the air. Then it’s suddenly mellow and the sun rises early in the morning. The days get longer and the air gets to that perfect balance between cool and hot.

You can’t remember if it was like this last summer, but when you’re doing your usual chores at the stables, sweat drips easily down your spine and makes your skin sticky. And when you’re taking in your day, relaxing in Diana and Brenda’s garden with tea, you can feel yourself a little chilly in the shade of the massive aspen trees that sighs with the gentle breeze dancing across its green leaves.

The whole town is getting ready for bonfire night in a few days, excitement settling in when the plans for the town event get clearer. You didn’t go there last year, but this year you’re more than ready. The whole town is coming together for the first time since last fall and the big celebration where you enjoyed the last few nights before the cold settled in.

Now everyone is preparing for the new season of fresh summer produce. By the bonfire night, the first strawberries will be ripe. The gardens are full of greenery and people working there will see the efforts of their labors coming into fruition after planting and taking care of the existing plants and saplings through the freezing months. Everyone is looking forward to this celebration. It means no patrols, just food and joy to greet the summer with open arms.

Then the day arrives. It’s a scorching, cloudless sky day with birds circling up in the air. You go help out with the heavy lifting, getting benches and chairs into place around where the bonfire is being built. People are already bringing out tables for the food plates and where people will be served with a cold, sweet flavored water, leaves of mint floating on the top of the containers.

You feel sweat pouring out of your pores while you work and you wipe it from your temples with the backs of your hands. Just as everything looks to be in place, the town center starts to fill with people ready to party. You slip out of there to have a shower to scrub the stickiness off your skin and change your clothes. Your home is silent. Gwen has to be at the celebration already. You let the burn of the sun dry your hair when you get back to the unlit bonfire.

The whole town center is packed. People are squeezing to find places for them to sit to get the best view of the fire later, reserving spots for their family and friends. There’s so much laughter and chatter around you, almost like the people have come alive after the darker months with the nature surrounding you.

You easily find Diana and Brenda sitting on a bench, a seat saved for you with a blanket you can wrap around you when the evening eventually will turn chillier. You make your way to the drink line, their and your mugs in hand, and stand behind a group of teenagers. A familiar looking head of hair turns to you and Ellie’s smile sparkles as she notices you.

“Hi!” Her voice makes her friends turn around and you recognise them all as the group from the library. A bit more grown up but still teenagers, green and inexperienced for the world. They all greet you as you look at them and you smile at them warmly, which seems to thaw some of their nervousness. Ellie steps closer to you and clinks your mugs together.

“Happy summer!” You notice she has two mugs in her hand, the other a plain sandy one with a brown trim and the other a deep purple, which she’s holding by their ears.

“Happy summer. You know you can always get a refill on your own mug?” You joke and touch the sandy mug in her hand. She turns it to you and you can see an owl carving on it.

“Oh no, this isn’t for me. Joel made me get him a drink as well, he was planning something with Gwen,” she chuckles and you feel your cheeks burning. Instantly your Joel radar goes off and you lift your gaze to look around you to see if he’s somewhere close.

You can’t see him in the sea of people. You have seen them together plenty of times but somehow this evening seems more special. There’s some magic in the air, must be the dreamy glow of the summer solstice, the sweet smell in the air, the cheery mood all around you. The couples you see leaning against each other waiting for the sun to set and the sparks to light up the dry wood in the middle of the town center with flames.

The line moves fast, containers of minty, sweet water filling glasses and mugs with experienced hands, little to no water spilling on the tables. Ellie and her friends wave you off as they have their drinks, leaving you to make your way to the older couple waiting for you. You clink your mugs together and watch the stream of people around you.

“Are you going to stay for long after the bonfire is lit?” You ask them and they both look at each other.

“A while but not that long probably, we want to wake up early tomorrow to get to planting the garden when it’s still cool outside,” Diana wonders out loud and Brenda nods along.

“You should come over for dinner tomorrow, I want to try this herb salad a neighbor recommended,” Brenda takes your hand into hers and cradles it like a grandparent cradles the hands of their grandkids.

“Count me in.” You finish your water with them but leave them after that to find your other friends. Dan and Sasha told you to sit with them when the bonfire is lit. Apparently they’re going to get the best seats. And you can’t complain when you finally see them in the crowds. The bench they’re sitting on with others from the stables is not too far back, but also not too close to the bonfire, just at the right angle to get a clear view of the upcoming event.

You make your way to them and as soon as you sit down next to Sasha, who is leaning against Dan, a full plate of food is given to you and your mug is filled with a pink drink that seems to simmer in the shades of amber as the day starts to break into evening. Someone is playing the guitar and the loud noise of people talking manages to drown it out if you’re not close enough to the one playing it. You can barely hear it. The higher notes come through better than the lower ones.

A sense of home surrounds you as you fill your growling stomach with the seed crackers on your plate, fresh butter, cheese, and herbs topping them while strawberries roll around the edge.

Someone clangs a bell and people understand to quiet. An older, silver haired, wrinkly cheeked man is standing on a wooden crate in front of the bonfire and claps his hands together. Everyone has their eyes on him as he does a full circle on the crate, managing to look at everyone gathered around.

“The cold is away and were celebrating summer once again. Are we ready to light the bonfire?” His question is answered by people clapping and whistling.

“Are we ready?” He yells and you can’t stop yourself from laughing when he encourages people to start cheering and keep it up. He steps down the crate and throws it on the stack of firewood, digs his pocket for a lighter and lights a piece of bark on fire.

The cheering wanes away until it’s so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. With bated breath you watch the man push the bark into a crevice in the pile of wood and light another piece on fire with the lighter in his hand. You can hear the sparking and see bark being fed to the awaiting dry pile of timber.

When it starts to smoke, some people gasp out in relief and in excitement. But it isn’t until the first licks of flames emerge from the crevices when people erupt into optimistic whoops and then in more rapture when the fire starts to spread. More and more people cheer along and soon the whole town center is filled with people celebrating the official start of summer in Jackson.

The guitar starts to play again and people begin singing along to the familiar songs you heard a long time ago, and songs that are new to you, written by people who live in the town. You see Dan hugging Sasha and whisper something into her ear, her eyes prickling with tears. She nods and when she kisses him, you look away and drink the alcohol from your mug that burns pleasantly in your throat. It isn’t just any drink, it’s Dan’s mix that you taste tested a few weeks ago, now more rounded and sweeter. He sways to the music with Sasha wrapped in his arms and you can feel it with the sparks that fly out of the fire. That magic that is all around you.

Even in this big crowd you find yourself feeling sorrowful, hyper aware of yourself yet like you’re just someone spectating everything happening around you. A strange mix of contentment and loneliness that makes you stand up and walk around.

All the kids have been sent home, only adults and older teens staying to celebrate by the bonfire as the night goes on, the horizon turning darker and stars sprinkling across the inky sky. Some hazy clouds drift across the starlit backdrop and turn rusty with the flames reaching towards them. There’s no other lights on than the bonfire and it’s more than enough to give light to the party.

The smoke catches gently onto your clothes and burns your eyes if you get too close. No wonder you were told to arrange the seats to a good distance away from the fire to keep people safe and to let them enjoy the night without inhaling too much of the acrid smoke. There’s barely any wind, only the heat from the fire and the coolness from the night, a perfect balance as you make your way through the crowds.

You carry your mug with you, sipping from it from time to time, and say hello to people who say hi to you. People who have come get horses, who you might exchange a few words with here and there. People you’ve seen at the green houses, at the dining hall and just out in the town. People who know you by your nickname but might not know anything else about you.

And then there’s him. Joel. In a dark t-shirt, his arms catching all the shadows from the fire. You can only see his profile, the bow of his nose, the roundness of his cheeks as he smiles, the line of his jaw covered with his salt and pepper beard. He drinks something from the mug he has in his hand, the other bent over his chest, his bicep hugging against his side.

Gwen is laughing with him. You can almost hear her. You hate that the jealousy comes back in full force when you see them drinking together. You pull yourself back from it and engage in a conversation about someone wanting to organise a party during the wintertime as well and how much it annoys them they have to wait so long before people come together again for a big get together like this. You try to focus on what the people you’ve blended yourself in are saying but can barely keep up.

Once you’ve seen him, how damn good he looks with his hair all fluffy and dark against the golden light, some greying streaks coming through like foamy waves in the ocean, you fight a losing battle with yourself.  You can almost imagine how he smells, how his voice sounds in this glowing fire. His cheeks look flushed as he turns towards the bonfire and sips from his mug. He must be drinking something stronger as well than the sweet water from earlier. You hear the group around you laugh and you join them but have no idea what they’re saying.

Fuck you miss him.

As much as you’d like to be the bigger person and say you don’t care if he’s with someone else, that you don’t feel jealous at all, it’s harder to do as alcohol blurs your thoughts and makes you crave his company. He’s part of your life if you like it or not. He’s part of the good and the bad.

He saw you when you had lost yourself. He saw you when you were at your weakest and needed someone to help you pick up the pieces. He has seen you at your deadliest. He has seen you healing. And when you were starting to get yourself back together. He has seen you this whole time and he has been so incredibly gentle with you. And how do you pay him back? By pushing him away. You kick yourself in your head, how stupid that was of you.

Gwen says something to him and suddenly they’re laughing again. Clara joins them and Gwen grabs at his bicep. You can see his mouth moving as he points at Gwen and immediately Clara looks impressed, asking more questions from her.

She looks almost shy around Clara, her eyes flitting across the crowds and stopping to stare at her for a moment before she turns her gaze away. Her cheeks are flaming pink and she bites her lower lip like she could pierce it.

He drinks from his mug, emptying it completely, before he leaves the women to talk by themselves as he makes it his mission to get something more to drink. You watch his broad back as he weaves his way through the people and gets a refill. Tommy joins him. The two brothers stand next to each other, similar in height and build, both tall and strong, yet still so different.

The flickering firelight dances across their features while Tommy leans his head closer to Joel’s left ear. Joel shakes his head and his eyes are covered in shadows. A joyless smirk passes over his lips and he presses the mug against them.

You hear laughter somewhere overhead and look up to see a group of teens sitting up on a rooftop watching the town center and bonfire from above. Ellie waves at you and you lift your mug at her as you keep on walking around the crowds, now knowing exactly where Joel is and where you might not want to go to not feel that pang of sadness lash through you again.

You find yourself with another group of people but you can’t focus on what they’re saying or how you react to their stories. Your eyes search for Joel to see him still by the bar with Tommy, casually chatting one moment, in a deep conversation the next.

You make your way to sit for a moment on one of the back benches and try to see him again but you can’t find him. Both Joel and Tommy are gone. You battle with yourself about what you should do. You want to go talk with him, just to even say hi, but you don’t want to bother him or mess anything up with him and Gwen.

The firelight doesn’t reach you as well anymore and you can feel the chill of the evening inching across your skin. Slowly, but in a steady stream, people start leaving. There’s more seating available and even though there’s still plenty of people to fill the town with chatter, you can hear the songs played on the guitar clearer and enjoy the comforting sounds of the instrument.

“Here you are!” Brenda’s voice startles you and you press your hands against your mug when the older couple smiles at you.

“Were you looking for me?” You raise your brows at them as your suspicion rises why they’re in such a good mood. They’re both almost giggling and Brenda looks like she can’t contain herself.

“I’m not one for gossip, but we couldn’t help but hear someone say something,” Diana begins as she sits next to you. Her skin glows in the softness of the firelight and the bundle of a blanket cradled in her arms looks incredibly soft. Brenda sits on your other side and takes your hand into hers.

“I don’t think you have anything to be jealous about with Joel,” Diana says slowly. She tilts her head right as you let confusion wash over your features.

“We heard Joel Miller has been a little cupid,” Brenda snickers close to your ear. “When you said he was interested in Gwen, I knew immediately there was something off with that.” Her tone tells you she has been invested in this for a while. She fixes her gaze on something and when you follow it, you see Joel with Gwen again, but her eyes are glued on Clara who talks with them both.

“What do you mean?”

“Because I heard from a little bird that Joel has been helping Gwen make an impression on Clara for a while now. It looks like he did a decent job, but it’s a little funny that he has been up to the task with people you’re also close with, isn’t it?” She questions and you slowly turn back to her, only to see her knowing smirk and suggestive sparkle in her eyes.

“He’s good friends with Clara, it doesn’t have anything to do with me.” You point out, but find yourself searching for him again, only to find he has left Gwen and Clara once more.

“Like I said, I’m not a gossiper, but it does seem like he’s not involved, if you understand what I mean?” Diana’s contribution only feeds Brenda’s excitement.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough. There’s nothing that could back that up and I’m not even sure if he’s interested in me,” you try to reason mostly with yourself to keep your nerves from leaping and your heart from racing. Diana touches your arm and her warm, motherly softness makes you quiet and focus on her.

“I’m proud of you and the progress you’ve made in the last year. But it is a little funny that you try to convince yourself that you’re not lovable or don’t deserve something good in your life. There’s only one way to find out if he feels the same way you do.” Brenda squeezes your hand as you both listen to Diana talk to you not as the person who has helped you with your difficulties, but as someone who includes you in their family and is ready to be honest with you in the gentlest way possible.

“You still have plenty of night left to go talk with him,” Brenda gushes in your ear and you can smell hints of alcohol in her breath. Diana stands up and takes Brenda by the hand.

“Do you want the blanket?” She offers you but you shake your head no, nervous about the possibilities of what this could mean.

“There’s magic in the air tonight, I tell you, magic.” Brenda’s eyes close as she smiles and lets Diana take her under her arm. They wrap around each other still somehow managing to walk at the same time.

You watch their backs disappear into the darkness away from the warm glow of the town center. Now that you’re sitting alone, your jealousy crumbles into tentative hope. Gwen and Clara are nowhere to be found, but Joel is. He sits close to the fire, on the other side of where you are. He’s leaning his arms against his thighs. He looks like he’s deep in thought, rolling his mug against his fingers incredibly slowly. You wouldn’t know he’s doing it if you didn’t see the ear of the mug turn with the movements.

The bonfire is still burning bright. The night is swallowing everything into darkness that isn’t touched by the glow of the flames. The person, who played the guitar before has left and you can hear the crackles and snaps of the wood burning like it’s the soundtrack of the night.

More and more people are leaving and the ones who stay take more space for themselves on the benches, wrapped in blankets or just warming themselves against the orange and red of the fire. Tommy sits next to him and you see it. Joel’s guitar. Tommy places it onto his lap and tunes it before he starts to play a gentle tune.

He plays slowly and his fingers try to find the right strings, but every time he does it the song stops and makes Joel shake his head. He sets the mug next to him and asks for the guitar from his brother, who gladly gives it to Joel. Almost like him playing was just a ploy to get Joel to want it for himself. He holds the neck of the instrument against his palm and his fingers rest on the strings like he’s not sure if he should play or not. When he does, the sound is gentle, perfect for the quieting evening under the stars and shine of the flames.

He drifts into the tune he’s playing. He hangs his head low and the music flows out of his fingers with such ease that it makes you stare for a moment. Like that time behind his door when you heard him playing his guitar, once again you’re taken aback by the emotion he pours into it.

He’s not just playing because it’s a song he likes, he plays it like it has a story behind it. You stand up and make your way slowly around the bonfire, rounding behind him to not disturb his concentration as there’s less people on his side of the seats. The ones who hear him playing the guitar nod their heads along or sway to the music.

You find a place a couple of benches behind Joel and Tommy. You watch his shadowed broad frame, lined with the golden halo around him. There’s a few curls right on the nape of his neck, behind his ears and on top of his head, sticking out. You hear Tommy’s voice and Joel’s low crumble answer him. You can’t hear what they’re talking about but the fire in front of you has nothing on the low chuckles he lets out a few times. He goes through songs like they’re in his spine, while they talk so quietly no one else can hear them except themselves. The air feels vibrant as you listen to the music he plucks out with his fingers.

If what Diana and Brenda said was true, this is the moment to find it out. You still have enough alcohol in your system to be brave enough to go talk with him. But you can’t move. You feel that inexplicable pull he has on you, that ability to make you at ease and nervous at the same time. You force yourself on your feet and take a light step forward, but only to move to his left and stay behind him to sit on another bench.

You can’t talk with him, not yet. You don’t want to break your own heart by finding out the truth. This is like admitting your feelings for him once again, only worse. You’re so sure he has moved on, as he should have, and whatever it was that happened last fall is long gone. You’re making yourself nervous. You take a deep breath and listen to the music he’s still playing while talking with his brother from time to time.

The gentle tune lulls you into a quiet daze. You look up and watch at the pitch-black sky littered with the enormity of space and little sparks emanating from the bonfire that someone is keeping an eye on and prodding every once in a while now that the firewood is a pile of embers and ash. You listen to his guitar and close your eyes.

You drift off to a soft daydream where you’re warm and safe. You’re reminded of a summer day with your siblings when you were younger. It was in the QZ. There was a hill that during summer time always turned into a field of dry hay. You remember your skin being hot under the unrelenting sunshine and how sweat beaded on your forehead after you had finished playing with them.

You could see the hanging stage from the hill, a reminder of the world you were in, but you were with your siblings and nothing else mattered. You were singing with them and laughing so hard that your stomachs and cheeks hurt.

You hear the tune and you hum along. The memory changes and you can feel Joel’s hand wrapped around your hand, his fingertips against your wrist. How that small gesture could tell you that his hand around yours wasn’t enough. And how it told him your pulse picked up even when you were still unable to admit that you wanted him close. He knew what he was doing. He knew all along.

You keep on singing along to the song. It repeats in your head, a memory from your childhood, of your family. You bring your chin against your chest and come back to reality. How it’s all just memories and moments from before. How it’s all different now. How that was a life that doesn’t seem your own anymore, like it’s separate from you.

You blink your eyes open and hear only people’s quiet whispers and soft footsteps as they leave to go home. And silence, no more music. You gaze up to meet Joel already looking at you. He’s leaning his arm against the body of the guitar, the back of his hand against his jaw as his head tilts to watch you.

“Hey,” he says so quietly that you’re not sure if you imagined it. He doesn’t want to break the magic of the night. Your lips quirk up and you greet him back.

“Well, I think I’m ready to go back to my girls,” Tommy announces and that’s what breaks the moment. you shift in your seat and look at the ground and your shoes that are covered in dust.

“Yeah, I’m going to head home too,” Joel sighs and clears his throat.

“You?” Tommy asks and you realise he’s asking it from you when no one else answers him.

“I think so.”

“The way Clara and Gwen were hitting it off, I’m not sure if you’re safe going to your own home.” Tommy’s laugh makes you raise your brows. Just like Brenda said, Gwen had no interest in Joel at all. You stare at him with empty eyes as it all somehow clicks. How she talked to you about Joel with a knowing look, trying to get a reaction out of you. How Clara was telling you about Joel, keeping him present when you hadn’t talked with him for a while and she was clearly looking for you to ask about him. You’ve been blind, oh so incredibly blind.

“Maybe you should crash at Joel’s? You have a spare room now that Ellie lives in her garage.” Tommy’s suggestion makes Joel whip his head around to face his brother and from the tension on his shoulders and a hissed whisper you know he’s not appreciating the unsubtle hint.

“If it won’t be too much trouble?” You go for it. You have to talk with him. You decide to be brave and the alcohol still coursing through you makes you bolder than you actually feel. This has to be it. Just to give yourself the peace of mind to know what he wants. To give yourself the chance to know how you should feel moving forward. You need the clarity, maybe this is luck in disguise.

Joel turns to you slowly, not expecting your question. He takes you in with an unreadable expression on his face. You can tell his walls are back up, to keep himself safe and unharmed.

“Not at all,” he shakes his head. Tommy grins and claps his hand on Joel’s shoulder.

“Goodnight to the both of you then,” his voice seems so loud in the silence of the night.

You stand up and stretch your back from sitting on the hard bench. You tip your mug against your mouth and drink the last drops of Dan’s own mix while you wait for Joel to reach you before you start your unhurried walk to his house. He puts the guitar on his back, like it’d be his rifle, and holds the strap tightly in his hold. Tension is thick in the air and you feel it rippling between the two of you. The town gets darker the further you get from the bonfire and the warm glow it provided.

“So Ellie’s in her garage?” You want to make some conversation to not lose yourself completely to the silence.

“She said she was going to Dina’s for the night with her friends,” he says thoughtfully. You nod at his answer and try to lean into the comfort you once felt when neither of you talked. Now it’s replaced by shyness and nerves that are making your hands tingle.

There’s no lights on when he holds the door open for you and you walk past him. Your arm brushes against his chest. He flicks the light switch and the rusty colored ceiling light in the hallway blinks on. You toe your shoes off and stand awkwardly in place while he opens his boots. He puts them neatly in line with yours.

It’s been a long time since you were here last. You look around, but not much has changed. There’s a few picture frames on the mantelpiece. Yu can see the gentle pencil marks on white paper. Drawings. A new stack of DVD’s has found their place on the bookshelf and there’s a new blanket on the back of the couch. In the dining room, on the table, there’s a few candles on a plate, candlewax pooling on the ceramic.

“You want anything to drink? Water, something alcoholic?” He asks and takes the guitar into the living room, placing it in the corner.

“Water’s good,” he turns his left ear towards you as you follow him into the kitchen. The lights blink on and there’s glasses and plates all over the kitchen island. He sighs deep and picks them one by one and puts them into the sink. You hand him the last little glass and your fingers brush together. Your skin heats up immediately even though it’s just a quick brush that you might’ve otherwise not even felt if you hadn’t looked at his hand.

“I told her to dunk them in water, she’s been collecting all these in the garage,” he grumbles. He picks up a clean glass off the drying rack and fills it with sparkly, cold water and gives it to you. You set your mug on the counter where Ellie’s dishes were and he takes it, dropping it in the sink as well. The glass in your hands drips water against your palm and you sip from it. The coolness of it evens out the pitter patter inside your chest as the silence stretches between the two of you.

“You have a nice voice,” he wonders out loud.

“What?”

“You sang the song I was playing on the guitar,” the other side of his mouth lifts up lazily and you have to look away when the heat inside you spills over. You have to still be a little drunk, a little hazy from the alcohol, but you can’t explain your feelings for him away with being drunk when you know it’s just him who is making you feel a little dizzy and giggly.

“Oh no,” you squeeze your eyes shut and smooth the wrinkle between your brows with your fingers, all while an embarrassed wheeze escapes your throat. “I didn’t mean for people to hear me.”

Your eyes fly open when his fingers brush against the back of your hand. He’s suddenly close, so close that you can feel his breath on your face. His fingers round over your hand and pull it towards him just so he can touch the inside of your wrist, his tough, warm, almost hot fingertips pressing gently against your pulse point. His grin only grows when he feels the unstable rhythm beating under your delicate skin.

“It’s a good song,” he mutters.

“It is.” The tension that you’re not sure ever went away is thicker than before, rippling, swelling, eating you whole. His eyes are dark, swallowed by the dim lighting, framed with even darker lashes. He’s going to stay close even when his hand lets go of your wrist in slow motion. He’s not going to let you pull away this time.

You have to turn your eyes from him to not choke on your water. You finish the glass in one mouthful and your throat burns as you have to swallow the water down with three big gulps. So much for not almost choking.

“Tired?” He quirks his brows up. You really aren’t. You feel like those embers from the bonfire have gone through your skin and are living inside you, making you glow.

“Not really,” your voice comes out barely audible and he tilts his head slowly. Your words are the ones that make him finally break eye contact. A hint of red blushes his cheeks and he lets out a long breath.

“Maybe we should make the bed in the empty room.”

You follow him up the stairs. There’s one step that creaks under his foot, and then under yours as you’re right on his heels climbing them at the same pace as him. You grip the banister like you could otherwise trip over. You follow him into a room, a bedroom, that you figure is his.

The duvet has been thrown carelessly over the wide bed. There’s a comfortable chair in the corner of the room, in front of the double windows that he has left open and where cool air is breezing in. A few clothes rest on the armrest, but it all looks just like a bunch of darker fabrics blending together. On the other side of the bed is a box full of records, a record player and a wardrobe where he’s now choosing sheets from.

You notice a book and a couple of pictures in simple frames sitting on the bedside table, under the hazy warm lighting of a lamp that radiates into the room, shrouding it in shadows. In one of the pictures is a younger Joel, smiling at the camera, a smile that you haven’t uncovered before. Next to him is a young girl with a cloud of dark, curly hair framing her face, his hand over her eyes. In the other picture she’s kissing his cheek, his face scrunched and her smile curving her eyes closed. The polaroids are faded, but not so much that you wouldn’t be able to make out what’s happening in them.

You take the one where she’s kissing his cheek into your hand and sit on his bed. His footsteps fall so quietly against the wooden floorboards that when he sits next to you, your first instinct is to make sure it’s still him. Joel’s thigh presses against the side of yours and you’re both looking at the picture in your hands.

“This her, Sarah?”

“Yeah,” he whispers. You can hear the soft, reminiscing smile in his voice. You lean your thigh against his a little tighter. There’s no words needed to express your sympathy. You place the photo back on the table gently, almost afraid you’d break it if it makes even the smallest of sounds.

“What’s this?” You look at the book next. It’s an old one, with the pages wrinkled with moisture and some corners earmarked. An Idiots Guide to Space you mouth the title without a sound and open a random page. You had no idea he’d be into space.

“Ellie has her birthday coming up next month and she’s real into this stuff. I’m taking her to a museum that has a space exhibit.” His low voice rumbles out barely audible in the quiet of his room. You smile at him and flip the pages. “It’s a surprise so you can’t tell her,” he warns and you nod your head in understanding. You find one of the pages that he has marked by turning the corner inward.

“You’ve underlined stuff here and everything, are you taking notes as well?” You tease him, running your fingertip against the words that he has marked as important. You don’t get far in reading the sentence when he’s sliding the book from your hands and lightly taps it against your arm.

“Okay, enough, I want to know something before we go to the museum so I won’t be a total rookie.” If this would be the first time you met him, you’d think he’s actually annoyed. But you can see the smallest upturn of his lips, the playful glint in the corner of his eye and hear the cheeky lilt in his tone.

“Fine, okay,” and you lift your hands up in surrender. He relaxes and puts the book back on the nightstand, leaning closer to you so you smell the smoke from the fire and him even better. You to continue your discovery journey through his nightstand.

“Anything else interesting in here?” You open the drawer and the items rattle against the wood. Inside is a jar of some sort of lotion that you can smell even through the lid, the sweet beeswaxy scent fluffing out of the drawer. You raise your brows at him and show him the jar.

“That’s just for when my hands are dry.” He clears his throat and his eyes shine black.  

“Mmhmm, for your dry hands,” you smirk. You put the jar back into the drawer and reach for his hand without looking. Your fingers land right on top of his and you touch the back of his palm. You have to admit, his skin is incredibly soft. Much softer than you’d expect from a man like him who goes out for patrols and does manual labor around the town. You pull your hand back and look at the other object next to the jar.

A revolver. A familiar one. You pick it up and as soon as you lay it against your palm, you recognise the feel of it. Something digs against the skin between your thumb and index finger. A similar dig that you felt in the library last year.

It’s the one Ellie had taken from Joel. You turn it in your hand and see scratch marks on the grip, right where it dug against your hand. You look at them more closely in the dim lighting. Letters, two of them. The first the same your sister’s name began with, the next the letter your last name begins with. You brush your fingers over them, a pang of recognition hitting you instantly.

“This is my gun,” you’re not sure if you’re stating a fact or if it’s a question. It could be both. “My sister, she engraved it with her initials in the worst place possible.” You show him the letters like a kid who has discovered a bug in the garden.

She didn’t mind the engraving, or maybe she didn’t care. You just remember her carving the grip with your knife in one of the settlements you managed to run for a while after leaving the QZ. She carried the gun everywhere. It was part of her. And then it was yours when she pushed it into your hands right before she died.

He doesn’t reach for it and you wouldn’t give it to him if he did. Instead you hold it in both of your hands and open the cylinder. It’s empty as you expected. Joel wouldn’t have a loaded gun next to his bed. Not in here at least. Your sister had it loaded at all times. She would sleep with it like it was her lover, nice and quiet, but ready to go off when needed.

“I had this with me,” you say quietly to him. “Why did you keep it?”

He doesn’t answer for a while and you start to wonder if he’s going to answer at all. When you look at him, you know immediately he’s taking his time deliberately. Calculating his words and picking out the right ones to stay honest with you. “I’m not sure. I could’ve given it away, but it didn’t feel right when I saw the initials. I was meant to give it to you at some point but there didn’t seem to be a right time for it,” he admits and looks at you through his lashes.

You turn away from him and close the gun back into the drawer. You massage your palms against the tops of your thighs while a wave of grief crashes through you. It pulls back, rushes in and drowns you with memories of your sister. Then the wave recedes and comes back again but doesn’t have a chance to hit the shore as strongly.

Every time the wave comes back, it’s a little less overwhelming, a little calmer, until it only ripples against something painful inside your chest. You push yourself up and don’t really know what you’re supposed to do now.

Here, in Joel’s bedroom, everything somehow seems incredibly loud and enormous, every little detail microscopically chaotic and amplified. The sounds of the cicadas in the garden float through the window and rings in your ears. The dim light seems bright in your eyes. Your clothes seems scratchy and uncomfortable. The floor under your feet feels too warm. The walls around you are unfamiliar and intimidating.

When Joel touches your hand, you gasp out a small sigh and close your eyes. His touch is feather light. He’s slow with his curling fingers that force you to stay with him, to focus on his presence alone. To let go of your discomfort piece by piece.

“Hey,” he mumbles, pulling you to turn towards him. You blink your eyes open. You’re immediately jumping into the gold flecked dark brown of his eyes. He brings you out of your head, out of your memories, solidifying you into this moment with him.

Your interlocked fingers squeeze together, and for a moment it’s a game between you to. He does it first, and you squeeze back like an answer. You go back and forth, pulsing the physical connection between the two of you until you crack a smile when he squeezes your hands together twice. He’s watching your reactions, waiting for a sign. Your smile is it. He slips his other hand into your free one, holding them both in his large palms, his thumbs brushing against the skin over your knuckles.

“Don’t leave.” It comes out more like plea. He winces right as he says the words, almost in embarrassment of his confession. You take a step closer, a small one, and then another, until you’re standing between his spread thighs.

“Was I going to?” You ask him and sway your joined hands carefully.

The sorrowful downturn of his eyes tells you he wasn’t talking about you going home. He wasn’t asking you stay here in his room, in his house. He was asking you to stay here with him mentally, to be present, to be here without panic, without the pain that you both still hold close to your hearts. Him and his photos. You and your sister’s gun.

“Can I tell you something?” You can barely feel any alcohol circulating in your system anymore. He nods and squeezes your hands more softly this time, to let you know that he wants to hear whatever you want to tell him. You take a deep breath and make yourself look him in the eyes, to not shy away from him this time.

“I’ve missed you. I’ve missed being around you.” It’s all true, all you, no liquid encouragement needed. His eyes brighten and his fond, slow grin breaks the surface. He presses his forehead against your fingers. His skin is hot against your touch, almost feverish if you didn’t know it’s from the heat that spreads from his cheeks to his whole face, in joy and wonder.

You pull your other hand free and card your fingers through his hair. A motion you’ve only done once before but have missed ever since. You bury your fingers into the softness of his curls and move your fingertips in a lazy circle. He leans against the touch and lets you tug his head up to reveal his face. The pad of your thumb touches the scar on his temple lightly and you see a flash of water in his eyes before he blinks it away.

You feel his massive hand slowly splaying across your hip, keeping you still, keeping you close, and you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything else.

“Me too,” he admits.

You don’t sleep. Neither of you does. The night rolls over the town on the other side of the window and you stay awake, laying on his bed, limbs wrapped around each other. You couldn’t be any closer to him, but you’d want to.

You listen to his steady heartbeat, the rumble of his voice through his chest. You lean your palm against his sternum, where you can feel the steady beats right against your hand. You watch him as he speaks, his eyes drifting to look at the ceiling, while his fingers draw shapes against your back in slow motion. His other arm is under his head, pillowing it, giving you a good look at his bicep as he unconsciously flexes it from time to time.

“We were too young. She was terrified when Sarah was born, so was I. But it hit her harder. She had all these plans for her future and she wasn’t ready to let them go.” His voice is far away as he remembers his past life.

“Didn’t you have plans then?”

“I did, but they were different. She wanted to graduate from college and move away, have a good career and a steady income. I was already working when Sarah was born. I didn’t go to college or get a fancy degree. I wanted to stay in Austin, I was happy there. I had lived my whole life there.” You listen to his slow drawl, the accent coming through stronger at times. His hand stops in the middle of your back and flattens against your spine. Like he’s making sure you’re actually real. That this moment is real.

“Do you know what happened to her after, did she get what she wanted?”

“I saw her a few years before the outbreak. Her dad had died and she came for the funeral. I didn’t know she was in town. It was by chance that she saw me in the store. She seemed happy. We didn’t really have anything to say and she didn’t want to stay when she found out Sarah was with Tommy by the ice cream aisle. There was this local brand that made her favorite ice cream and she wanted to get it but couldn’t risk getting seen. But you know what’s funny?” He asks in a way that tells you it’s more bittersweet than funny.

“Sarah loved the same ice cream. Vanilla and raspberry, there always had to be a tub at home.” You smile at his memory.

“Even thinking about that makes me crave ice cream.” He smooths his whole palm up and down your whole back, to the points where his hand almost lifts off and doesn’t bend anymore.

“What about after her, did you date anyone?”

“I don’t really know if you can call it dating when it’s the apocalypse,” he jokes and a chuckle vibrates out of you and into his chest. “Not really. Not until, well… There was my friend who I met a few years after the outbreak.” He glances at you from the corner of his eye. You don’t want to fill in with the information Ellie gave you a while back. This is for him to tell, whatever he wants to tell.

“Tess,” he says slowly. A crease forms between his brows as he lets the thoughts of her pass him by. “I don’t think I would’ve survived as long without her.” You drop your ear against his chest and smooth your palm over it and around to his side, pulling yourself just a little closer.

“What about you, have you had anyone?” His voice is tentative.

You take a deep breath before you speak. “Not really. There hasn’t really been any time or chances to think about liking someone for who they are rather than for what they’ve been able to offer. I just fooled around with some people in the QZ, but I never did it for fun. It was more a necessity in that moment.” He makes a thoughtful noise while he considers your words. You hear it filter through his chest in low vibration and it tickles against your ear.

“What about now, do you still feel the same way?” He tries to sound uncaring, but when you steady your chin against the back of your hand again and look at him, there’s nervousness on his face. A pinch of uncertainty that he’s trying to keep at bay but doesn’t manage to hide it completely.

“What do you mean? About you?”

“Would it be a necessity to like someone now?” His doubt is something that takes you aback. An expression he rarely lets through. The walls he has been keeping around himself for so long, the ones he has built over the years, one rock at a time, sealed them with the thickest concrete to keep everyone out. It’s finally crumbling down in front of you completely. He’ll probably always protect himself from whatever hurt he might go through, but there’s a space that you can squeeze yourself through.

“No, it’s not,” you’re thoughtful with your words. “It’s different here. We get to live here, there’s routines and safety. We get to go to bed in the evening and fall asleep without having to worry about someone coming in and taking away that freedom.”

He listens to you with his full attention, just as you like. You’re heard and understood. He can’t deny the things you lay on the table because he knows it too. Jackson isn’t like living in a QZ where you’re used to the fear of being punished or getting caught doing something you’re not supposed to be doing. It becomes part of your system, the constant dread and danger, and it doesn’t let you out of its grasp unless you leave.

Then the fear changes because you’re not safe at all. There’s no security of walls or soldiers keeping you at least somewhat safe while threatening your safety at the same time. There’s the fear of getting infected, getting caught by people who have no good intentions or being welcomed into groups that seem kind and friendly at first, the ones who say they want to give you care, but end up making you feel like you’re poisoned from the inside out. You can’t figure out how it happens or how to escape it, until you realise there is no options than to stay and follow a new, stricter set of rules.

“For starters, it’s not out of necessity that I like you, but I do.” You admit it through a thickness in your throat.

“You still like me?” His grin that reaches the corners of his eyes makes you snicker.

“I think it’s pretty obvious.” You dig your fingers into his side and he squirms against it. He barks out a laugh and the sound surprises you.

“Are you ticklish here?” You dig your fingertips into his ribs again only to make him wriggle against it.

“I’m sensitive, it’s not the same as ticklish,” he fights back but when you’ve found the spot that makes him lose that solid, gruff exterior and his face twists into a silent gasping laughter, you can’t let the discovery go. You break into giggles as he fights against your exploring fingers. He puffs air from his lungs in an attempt to keep himself from fully losing the battle to his tingling weakness.

“Stop it!” He growls and wrestles you off him, his large hands pinning your wrists together and against the bed. The room is even darker now that it’s the middle of the night but you can still clearly see his eyes shining and the crooked grin that rests on his face. You open your palms and hide your smile behind them.

You nuzzle your face closer to his onto the same pillow. Your hands are against his chest and you let that warmth spread through to the rest of your body. He finds his place against you again, his arm easing on your side and his hand finding that slow rhythm from earlier against your clothed spine.

“What?” You ask as he squints his eyes just the tiniest amount. You can see thoughts running through his mind, but he’s not sure if he should let you in on them. He shakes his head and looks away like he’s ending conversation before it has a chance to even start. But when he finds you still interested to know what he’s thinking, he pulls his hand from your back and puts space between you two.

“I asked Clara about you.” He’s waiting for you to say something. He’s expecting you to turn away from him, that he crossed a line and overstepped a boundary you set last fall.

“When?”

“After I saw you two going on patrols.” He looks away finally, in embarrassment of what he’s telling you.

“What did you ask her?” Your tone is more curios than anything. He sighs and closes his eyes to pinch the bridge of his nose before he runs his fingers across his chin.

“How you were, what you had been up to. If she knew anything about you… maybe… dating anyone.” The different levels of awkwardness run across his features and he turns on his back again. He’s still giving you that out, that space if you need it. The last piece of the puzzle locks into place. She didn’t mention him to you by chance. Her questions were also questions from him.

“Why didn’t you ask me?” Your chuckle is easy and it gives him a chance to face you without the fear of maybe you being completely blindsided by his admission.

“I don’t know,” his voice is breathy in a way that signals how confused he was by that as well.

“I asked Ellie about you too,” you can’t hide the smirk from your face. When his brows knit together, he turns his eyes to you. Slowly his body follows until you’re facing each other fully. You make space for yourself on his pillow again and he lets you.

“And how did that go?”

“She said Gwen has been all over you so I thought you two had gotten together.” You can’t help it when laugh bubbles out of you.

“Why did you think that we…” He stops himself and blinks carefully a few times. His eyes look black in the lighting. He tilts his head up just a tiny bit and the smirk on his lips makes you prepare for whatever he’s going to say. “I was just helping her get closer to Clara. But more importantly, were you jealous?” You hide your face with your hands and can’t believe that this conversation has lead to this. You nod your head while the whole situation starts to look incredibly foolish to you. How silly it all makes you feel now. He wraps his fingers around your wrist to reveal your face and to gently twine his fingers with yours.

“She figured as much when she told me about how you had been when she had talked about me at your home.” His brows quirk up in challenge only to make you want to hide your face again. The grimaced smile on your lips is straining against your cheeks. He doesn’t let you as your fingers are still slotted together.

“Why do I feel like we’re teenagers with bad communication skills?” You ask through your frustrated groans.

“Should we promise something to each other?” He asks. The look on his face has melted into comfort and warmth, breaking the chain of embarrassment in you. “From now on we talk to each other. No hiding, no fear of what the other is going to say. Just us.”

“I’d like that,” your voice comes out weaker than you’d want. His arm wraps around you again and you relax into his chest, your foreheads almost touching. You want to relax, but there’s something on your mind that doesn’t let you.

“There’s one thing I want to say.” He hums and you watch his shadowed face. “I want us to take things slow. One day at a time, see where this could go.”

“This,” he repeats and his eyes are half shut. He savors the word on his tongue and it hangs between you like a promise. “I’m okay with that,” he answers. You press your palm against his chest and keep it there, to feel the rush of his heartbeat. His warm breath fans across your face and you close your eyes.

The last thought before you drift off is how much you like the feel of his hand drawing those random shapes against your back. It burns in the best possible way, raising goosebumps wherever his fingers go to next and your skin starts to expect his touch. He pulls you closer and you sink into his warmth, falling asleep against his solid frame.

You don’t sleep for long though. The window is still open and you can hear birds singing outside in the trees surrounding his back garden. The sun is rising, reflecting golden rays against the walls of Joel’s bedroom. You look at him and his sleeping face.

You touch his cheek lightly, the patch on his jaw where there’s no beard. You follow the edge of his lashes with your fingertips, the curve of his eyebrow, the bow of his nose, the lines on his forehead that are now smoother when he’s asleep. Last you trace the softness of his lower lip. Air follows your fingers in a steady rhythm and you match your movements to the slowness of his dreams.

His face twitches and he brings his hand to wipe at his face when you start the movement of your fingers from his lashes again. He puts his hand between your chests and you look at it. The size of it, the heaviness of it, the thickness of his fingers compared to yours. The softness of his short nails and the little cuts that have scarred over a long time ago. He’s still fast asleep.

You pick up his hand and touch his knuckles. You put extra care into the ones that have been bruised and cut open before, the markings faint on his skin. There’s a lighter line from an old wound between his index and middle fingers. You don’t know why, but you press your lips against it. You move to kiss his knuckles one at a time, then his fingertips, and turn his hand around.

You kiss his palm and the base of each finger after that. His hand gets lighter and when you look at his face, his pupils are blown charcoal black, his lips are parted and he’s watching you carefully, while his chest rises and falls in a heavier pace.

He's the one who brushes his fingertips against your lips again and you kiss them, one by one, until you’ve touched all of them. He pushes his palm against your cheek and into your hair, making you shiver when his fingers reach the base of your neck. There’s no rush when he brings his lips against yours, feather light at first, slotting them together with such ease that you wonder why you haven’t been doing this the whole time. You wrap yourself around him and lose the track of time.

When your lips are swollen and red and your head is spinning from his gentleness with you, you fall back asleep with your face against his neck. His hand doesn’t stop running up and down your spine, dipping under your shirt at the small of your back every once in a while.

“Sorry,” he whispers when you stir from your sleep and he’s trying to move you off him delicately.

“What time is it?”

“Almost eleven,” he sits up and stretches his back. His t-shirt rides up and a sliver of tan skin shows at the bottom of the shirt, a couple of shallow dimples visible at the base of his spine, above the waistline of his jeans.  

“Wait here,” he tells you as he stands up and takes slow steps into the bathroom. You fall on your back and stretch your legs and arms out. You haven’t felt this good in a long time. Or maybe ever. The realisation is sudden when you come to the conclusion that you’ve never felt like this before.

A mix of giddiness and happiness, a small hint of nerves in the best possible way. Your whole body feels relaxed and warm, soft and a little delicate from realising and acting on your feelings. The euphoria of having those feelings reciprocated. Your thoughts are slightly jumbled from not sleeping that much but it doesn’t really matter. You smile and take in this new set of emotions.

It's only cut short by the grumble of your stomach. You push yourself up and pull your arms behind your head in another stretch. Blood flows around your shoulders and neck and tingle in your ears. You hear water running in the bathroom when you stand up and head for the stairs.

The sunlight is making the hallway glow. You’re rolling your shoulders back when you reach the fridge in the kitchen and open it. There’s some fruit and vegetables but other than that there’s plenty of space on the shelves. Joel’s footsteps are light but you hear that one stair creak under his foot.

“Your fridge is basically empty,” you turn towards him just when he reaches the doorway and a smile spreads on his face. He doesn’t stop to say anything, only closes the distance between the two of you and kisses you immediately. He must feel the stiffness in your muscles when he wraps his arms around you, just to pull back with a tinge of worry on his face.

“Is this okay?” You nod, pull him back against you and press your almost bruised lips against his. He happily melts against you and closes the fridge door behind you. There’s no fanfare or explosions with him, just quiet easiness with him. The kiss fades into a hug. His clothes still smell of the smoke from last nights bonfire.

“Would you maybe want to have a drink with me?” He asks against your temple.

“Now?”

“I mean some evening when we’re both free?” You lift your head to face him and tilt it when you see a glowing flush on his cheekbones.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Your teasing tone makes him tip his chin to his chest and you both chuckle at this new situation you’re in.

“Yeah,” he lifts his chin back up, proudly challenging you and your sniggering.

“Okay,” you tell him simply and watch a fond grin soften his eyes.

#the last of us fan fiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x gn reader #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #katsheadincloudswrites #fractured fic

[vynnyal]

Y'all, how do I be normal about hollow knight.

Anyways, here's the unofficial 4th installment of that series I started a while ago where I throw together a bunch of random hk theories into one post... this time ordered to make mildly more sense!

So the context here is this:

My friend came up with a cool oc and I was immediately obsessed with the idea. I explained everything relevant... err-- mostly relevant, anyways-- but I extrapolated on a few points here.

It got kinda bloated because I tried to tie-in some of my random tangents. The rest... are just gonna be at the end, lmao.

...

Basically, there are Gods in Hallownest. They mostly fall under the category of "Higher Beings", though not all Higher Beings are gods.

All of these gods are Gods specifically because they use dreams as their life force, which is directly tied to how powerful their influence can be.

The mother of Greenpath, Unn, is the epitome of a good-ol' classic Hollowknight god.

She IS Greenpath. The plantlife came from her and is likely a direct conduit of her power (greenpath lore tablet). The Mosskin Tribe themselves are her dream-children-- they either literally spawned from her or were merely formed in her image.

And now remember, the entirety of greenpath and queen's gardens were her domain. That's like 1/6th of Hallownest.

She was The Shit. And then, for reasons untold, she went to sleep. Though it's hard to pin down when it started, it's implied her slumber predated the Dreamers; Quirrel's dreamnail dialogue mentions her, likely as a memory from the times he was Monomon's apprentice, and even then she was just "something revered" sleeping in the waters.

Which is to say, when Mr Columbus waltzed in to pave roads through their lands (and when his wife laid claim to a decent chunk to be her personal playground), they likely didn't meet much resistance. From Unn herself, anyways. Which makes it all the more shocking that they didn't smite her image completely when her domain was so throughly invaded and remolded to PK's satisfaction.

He had, in his grasp, an entire tribe of people that followed *a different God than himself,* aka the worst thing you can be in the eyes of another God. People are dreams, and dreams are power. More worshippers= more power. If you're a God, you HAVE to actively be thought about by many people to survive. A forgotten God is a dead God. (This exact conflict was, in no small part, the beginning of the series of dominoes that led to Hallownest's downfall, albiet with a different God.)

That Unn herself was left relatively alone, despite this, is likely because Unn/the Mosskin Tribe gave juuust enough to avoid conflict while also keeping their "dream" distinct from PK's (meaning: continue to worship Unn and not PK). I can only imagine he allowed this because if he didn't, both Unn and her people would simply cease to be; the Mosskin needed Unn, and Unn needed them. That, and he was probably pretty busy dealing with the aforementioned other God that was... decidedly less submissive.

Either way, WL took Unn's land and pushed out her followers, inadvertently (or possibly purposefully) greatly diminishing Unn's power and influence. (It's possible this was the event that knocked her out, and she was merely too weak to oppose two entire Higher Beings to begin with.)

The other important character of note is Fierce Dryya. She was one of the Five Great Knights, and WL's personal guard.

After WL birthed and subsequently killed her children, she isolated herself in the depths of her Gardens, presumably "well-protected" from the fate the rest of the world faced.

There, Dryya held her last stand before a swarm of infected mantis Traitors who sought to remove WL from their territory. Sadly, WL doesn't even know she's dead, even though you have to step over her corpse to enter WL's cocoon.

It's hard to think about, but theres an equal chance that she fought off the Traitors for good... and that her death was entirely in vain. She is found next to the mound of Traitor corpses she undoubtly killed, but in the end, she died as well.

Implying that, before breathing her last, she managed to terrify them enough to never come back..

Or that she was just eventually worn down and killed, and the Traitors simply gave up when they couldn't get through WL's own protection.

....Which is to say the time between Dryya's death and events of the game is almost completely unknown!

...

Things I just couldn't fit in:

1, The name greenpath is just because PK put a bunch of roads in it, really. It likely had a different name before Mr Columbus came along.

2, Btw I wondered if there were any actual children in hk. Turns out, yeah, most bugs can propogate (lol), but the only ones referenced in the game that are not directly from a God are openly NOT worshiping ANY God. I'm talking the Mantis tribe, the Spider tribe, the Flukes, the mushroom clan, and weirdly enough, a specific spirit called Joni whose whole thing was being a heretic-- aka not only Not a worshiper of PK, but actively outcast and perhaps outlawed by PK's people.

*I'm disregarding Millybug. They're implied to be childish, but that's all we know.

Other notable characters that were at least a child at one point are Hornet, who was the child of Herrah and PK, and the Vessels, the product of the WL and PK. Grimmchild doesn't count as its not an actual bug, but a vessel created by the Nightmare Heart. The PK's Vessels are unique because they were originally independent, living creatures.

3, This talk about gods and such made me think about what happens after the game. Unn isn't dead, just actively dying because Miss Rad keeps stealing all her followers. She barely has enough energy to be like "hey kid, take this thing and remember me plz."

With both Miss Rad and PK gone, there's nothing stopping Unn's revival. Like, imagine Hallownest getting repopulated by the remaining tribes, returned to their natural glory. The only place left untouched being the city and the abyss-- forever monument to the horrors that nearly killed them all.

4, It just occurred to me that most of the real Godly gods in the game get cop-outs in the pantheons so you can't fight them. White lady just kinda peaced out, Unn's on the respirator, PK is fully snapped out of existence, the Lifeblood entity is chilling out in the basement, and... well I guess you are the void king by then so it's a bit of a moot point. NKG, THK, and Miss Rad are the only ones that're ready to throw down. Good for them!

5, The story of Isma is perplexing. It's implied the grove she died in is the source of the weird acid ravaging Hallownest, though it's unknown how or why. The wiki presumes this only affects the lower regions of the world, but I personally haven't found whatever supports this*. There's pipework lining the broken elevator pass between Ogrim and the Grove, of which is literally glowing with acid, so...

*there is one spirit in the Spirit Glade that mentions acid as a biological defense mechanism, so acid does exist in some capacity outside of this weird angry stuff.

Besides that, her dreamnail dialogue is "there's no time." Seriously? That's the most cliffhanger-y quote of the bunch, I can so clearly imagine team cherry being like "have fun! No we will not elaborate lol" before they spike the ball into our court.

In any case, while down this rabbit hole I have come to terms with the fact that Ogrim is still the best character in the game. He's literally the "I lie to myself :)" guy. All his friends are dead or missing. His lover drowned in 10 feet of acid. His idol the King was sent to superhell. Everyone else is a shambling husk. But he's still out here like "hey again, I realized you're not dead! Sorry about that, everyone else is so I got confused. Oh you saw my gf after pulling the lever that lowers the 10 feet of acid in her grove? Yeah she's super cool. Yeah no I can't go see her even though she's literally right over there, I got my, uh... oath. Haha. Good luck!"

6, While reading about Essence, it occurred to me that when you dreamnail a spirit, you don't actually kill them. You merely collect them. When the seer speaks to you about how much essence you have, she mentions she sees memories peering back at her. (1200 essence dialogue)

Most clearly don't want to be collected. They are at their final resting place, and desire to stay there, whether they're aware of their current state or not.

...buuut technically, TECHNICALLY, you aren't actually harming the spirits you dreamnail and can totally collect em' all to chill with you instead of lingering, listlessly, forever. You're just kinda rude for it. Also, none of the other spirits can tell what happened to them, so just dreamnail Revek too! He'll be fiiiine. :D right?

7, What really messes with my understanding of the timeline is WL's whole physical situation with what the blindness and such. She's the Higher Being, but within such a relatively short span of time, she has aged to the point of her body breaking down? More importantly, she's not immortal?? There are no mentions of the queen ever having any physical ailments, publically or privately, until you see it for yourself. Meaning that the worst of it happened after the Vessels were born and THK began their training. Perhaps the matter with the Vessels took more of a physical toll than originally assumed?

If we're assuming the pair hooked up after PK turned tiny, then you have to wonder just how old she was at the time. Judging by the rate at which she's aging now, she was likely pretty young. Frankly, I doubt it'd change much either way. She'd have that matter-of-fact, gung-ho demeanor at any age.

This is also why I specified that not all Higher Beings are bona-fide Gods. WL doesn't need the dreams of others, and judging by the weaver's seal she uses to protect her mind, doesn't want others to dream of her. And yet the Godseeker recognizes her as... something. (Third encounter)

So at least she's not just a really old tree. But she's also not a God like PK. She's a weird, third thing.

8, but I'm not letting go of her weird orb cocoon thing. What's that about?? What is it made of? Was it constructed by others and she was sealed within? Or did she somehow create it herself? The architecture seems to imply it's inorganic, but how did she get in there, then?

To top off the weirdness, there's the conveniently ghost-sized hole in the center of her carved face. So I'm leaning more towards "exaggerated metaphor for entering WL's mind" or "easy-to-read entry point for players to go to visit WL that isn't literally there in canon" and not "there's a big glowing hole in this literal rock that inexplicably leads to a tunnel* that then leads to a room very obviously bigger than what's seen from the outside."

There's no way, dude.

I'm leaning more towards there being a large structure she could walk into, that was then barricaded to fully seal her within. The knight, being so small, managed to get their way in through some sort of tunnel.

But then something happened to the plan and the outside of the structure turned into whatever Ari thought that orb was supposed to be.

*Although, I do like the interpretation that the tunnel is actually Ghost slowly making their way through her roots to meet her.

#hollow knight #thonking abt hollowknight #blabbing.txt #SIGHS. y'all. To make this coherent was a struggle #It still barely hangs on to the original topic #I didn't know where to add this but it's also possible PK didn't kill Unn just because #He didn't wanna? Like. I don't think he was bloodthirsty #Just territorial #But he was at the time actively trying to kill someone. So #Who's to say the truce between Unn and PK would've been the same without miss rad? #Also also also hey. what was that about a cracktheory about Monomon possibly being a higher being again #It's been so long since I've read a good ol fashion hk fic venturing into worldbuilding with some basic character chatter thrown on top

[miamochi-writes]

Heyo I saw your wolfwood writing

Wolfwood simp full time job here ✋

Can u do a reassuring wolfwood like the raeder is having a real panic attack,because they meet their old friends,toxic ones and started making fun of them and when they cried they bullied her more calling "crybaby" "u were always a crybaby, y/n"

"Hey,if u wanna change why don't u get eaten by a sand worm? Ahahhahahha"

And wolfwood stepped in,he manages to making them fo away but when he turns to ask at their s/o if they were okay they started gasping,clenching their chest

Sure thing! Although I feel like most of my Wolfwood content is going to have trigger warnings. Hope you like it!

Fake Friends Real Love

Trigger warning! Mentions of panic attacks and verbal abuse

You joined the group that consisted of Meryl, Roberto, Vash, and Wolfwood for some time now. You enjoyed traveling even despite being chased after police and some malicious people. Despite it, you loved every minute of it, especially if it meant spending time with a certain unorthodox priest. Wolfwood was the coolest guy you ever bumped into. He was strong physically and mentally, and despite how much of a tease he was, you've grown fond of him. You aspired to be as strong as him one day. Eventually, you and Wolfwood managed to start dating each other after spending time with him for so long. You could say you fell head over heels with his charm, while he saw you as the most precious person to call you his.

During your travels, you sent letters to your old friends back home. You wrote in detail the people you've faced, the cities you've visited, and the creatures you've encountered. At times, you would grow homesick, but luckily the gang was traveling to a city where your hometown happened to be on the way there. You begged Meryl to stop the car so you could visit your town for a day and she eventually gave in.

"Okay, but only for a day okay? Afterwards we need to get a move on," Meryl reminded you.

"Got it! You won't regret it Meryl!" you replied as you flashed her a grin. Before you could run off, someone grabbed you by the back of your shirt.

"Hey! What gives?" you asked as your eyes landed on Wolfwood.

"Where do you think you're running off to?" he asked as he blew his cigarette smoke away from you.

"I'm going to see some of my old friends for a bit and I'll be back before dinner. Not like I'm going to get myself in a fight. Now can you let go?" you asked with a pout.

"Don't be reckless y/n, and make sure you're back before then," Wolfwood added as he lowered his shades so you could see that handsome gaze of his. You turned away so you could hide your blush from him.

"Got it Nico," you answered back knowing how calling him by that name made him feel. Wolfwood gave you a peck on the cheek before letting you go as you ran off and waved at the gang.

You told your friends you would be in town soon and to meet up at the usual hangout that was close to a diner. You ran until you saw three familiar faces huddled up together. You called out to them with a smile on your face as they looked back.

"Hi guys! It's been awhile!" you managed to speak while catching your breath.

"Well I'll be, if it isn't y/n in the flesh," your friend Nikki said as she lifted her hat up to get a good look at you.

"Guess it's good that Ryan got that letter of yours the other day," Tessa chimed in as Ryan waved the letter up.

"Of course! I had to send it out early just in case. Plus I wasn't sure if you got my previous letters since you don't reply you know?" you explained.

"Oh we got them, we just had things come up," Ryan said as he pulled out a stack of the letter you previously sent out.

"So, I guess your latest letter was true, but you know I find it hard to believe that little ol' y/n, is traveling with a rag tag group of people and 'kicking butt'," Nikki piped in as your brows furrowed.

"What do you mean? Of course it's true. How do you think I got back here in town?" you reasoned as Tessa walked up to you.

"Oh really? Because last time I remembered was you being a little crybaby for the smallest things. Remember how you couldn't even ride a Thomas and you cried when it kicked you off?" Nikki butted in as Tessa giggled.

"That was a long time ago, that's not me anymore," you argued. Tessa then got close to your face and spoke again.

"Or how you couldn't stand the sight of worms? So imagine us reading a letter where a sand worm ate your group. You must have been crying up a storm," Tessa brought up as she laughed.

"It did happen, but Wolfwood saved us!" you replied as you felt your hands shaking and your breathing rising gradually.

"Oh don't get me started on Wolfwood," Nikki giggled.

"Oh Wolfwood was so cool when he brought out his gun to save us all. He's so strong and mysterious, you wouldn't believe it. When I was trapped, he rescued me and made sure I was okay. How did I get lucky to have him as my boyfriend?" Ryan said in a mocking voice where he tried to mimic you in a falsetto while the girls laughed.

"Stop it! That's not funny! And it's true!" you raised your voice trying not let your voice crack but failed miserably while clenching your chest.

"If you did travel with this so called great group of yours, Wolfwood should have known how much you cry and let you get eaten by that sandworm and do all of us a huge favor. Also in what world would you have a boyfriend who puts up with your whiny self," Ryan commented as he continued to laugh at you.

"I thought you guys were my friends," you muttered as you felt your head spinning with how the three of them were causally throwing insults left and right at you.

"Oh what are you going to do? Cry about it you crybaby?" Nikki asked mid laugh as you looked down to hide your flushed face, but you noticed the ground was starting to distort. You felt nauseous the more they laughed. You tried to take a step back to regain your balance and lean against a wall.

"Look guys, I think y/n is about to cry. What a loser," Tessa pointed out as the others giggled.

"Just like old times. Once a crybaby, always a crybaby," Nikki added as you felt your lips quivering and the nausea get worse. You tried to leave, but Tessa and Nikki surrounded you and pinned your arms to the wall.

"Where's your boyfriend Wolfwood now y/n?" Ryan asked as he got closer to your face while you struggled to free yourself from their grasp.

"Guys, this isn't funny anymore. I can't breathe," you mentioned as you felt yourself starting to hyperventilate.

"Oh please, this is nothing y/n. Grow up," Tessa spat.

"You know what I think girls? I think Wolfwood knows just how much of a loser and waste of space y/n is. He probably pities you, that's the only reason I can get behind on why he would go out with someone like you," Ryan followed up with his words stinging like venom with each syllable. You desperately tried to say something but you felt a full on panic attack as their words filled your mind. Your tears were overflowing, you felt your heart palpitate, and shortness of breath as you hyperventilated.

"Look at you, pathetic. If only Wolfwood could see how much of a mess you are," Nikki commented laughing at you.

"AHEM"

Your eyes widened at the sound as your so called friends turned towards the sound of that noise.

"No wonder y/n was gone long, it's because you pieces of shits are hogging 'em," Wolfwood commented.

"Wait, you're real?" Nikki asked.

"Realer than all three of you combined. The name is Wolfwood, don't wear it out," he replied as he cracked his neck.

"So you mean to tell us not only are you real, but you're actually dating this person here?" Ryan pointed out.

"Yeah and if you don't fucking let Y/n go, I'm going to make all of you regret being born and laying a finger on 'em," he threatened as he put his weapon down, causing the ground to shake. The three friends stumbled back and let go of you as Wolfwood took one step towards you.

"Did y/n mention that this thing here isn't an ordinary cross?" Wolfwood asked with a shit eating smirk as the three of them trembled.

"Shit, we messed with the wrong person. Let's run while we can guys," Nikki suggested as they all high tailed their way out of the scene. You felt yourself stumble towards the ground, but Wolfwood grabbed you before you could land. He got you to stand up and put both of his hands on your shoulders.

"Hey, hey, look at me Y/n. I'm right here. They're gone now," he reassured but you couldn't focus with your panic attack.

"Shit, okay, follow me y/n. Take a deep breathe in. Breathe in," Wolfwood instructed as he inhaled deeply and you followed him. After 5 seconds passed, he exhaled and you followed through. He did it again and you listened to his instructions.

"Okay, what five things do you see y/n?" he asked you.

"I see you, your glasses, your cross, your box of cigarettes, and the ground," you told him.

"What four things can you touch?" he asked again.

"You, my outfit, the wall, and my hair," you replied.

"Good, you're doing great," Wolfwood said as he continued asking 3 more questions until you've calmed down.

"I'm sorry you had to see that. I thought they were my friends," you apologized. Wolfwood sighed and rubbed your back before speaking.

"You have nothing to apologize for. From what it look like they're shit friends. But you don't need them. You got Vash, Meryl, Roberto, and me," he answered as you flashed a small smile at him.

"Thanks Nico, I appreciate that," you said giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Next time I tag along with you. That's the last time I see someone try to hurt you or make you cry. And for the record, I would save you from that sand worm a 100 times if it meant being with you," Wolfwood commented as he kissed your head and then your lips.

"Now come on, everyone is waiting for us," he added as he took your hand in his right hand while he carried his gun with his left hand. You stayed close to his side. He made sure no one dared to get close to you while he walked you back to the group. Despite how the day started off for you, Wolfwood was there to salvage whatever was left of it. Wherever you went, you knew he would be there for you and that's all you needed.

#wolfwood x reader #nicholas d wolfwood #wolfwood x y/n #wolfwood x you #trigun wolfwood #trigun stampede #trigun #trigun fic

[i-cant-sing]

what do you think of platonic Yandere Erasermic but a/b/o?

Hmmm the good ole Yandere Alphas Erasermic adopting/kidnapping an omega reader. But consider this:

Yandere Alphas Erasermic kidnapping an Alpha/Beta reader.

Just imagine reader waking up to 2 Alphas of a pack, and not just any pack- one of the strongest rival packs. They'd attacked her pack and after they saw how bravely this young new Alpha tried to defend her family, they wanted to adopt her. So they give everyone orders to NOT hurt you and then you're knocked out and they take you away.

Obviously, you're on alert and you almost bite their face off when they introduce themselves as your new parents (because they killed your old ones).

Although you're an alpha, you're nowhere near as strong as them. So escaping is futile because they'd easily track you down and drag you back. Plus the whole pack is already very protective of the newest member, so they keep an eye out when their Alphas rebellious "child" tries fo run.

That's not to say that the duo is any less protective of you. If anything, they're a little top protective. Treating you like fine china that's to sit pretty and touched by no one. Going to any extent and crossing all lines, just so that you'd be safe, or as they like to call you "baby omega".

But you are still an alpha, so you are bound to be strong and act on your natural instincts of not being controlled by the enemy. That's why Erasermic have to keep you bound and sedated and on pheromone blockers so that they could coddle and coo at you without you trying to claw or bite them.

Hell, they probably even clip your claws, or atleast trim it down to a soft round edge. It's weird watching Aizawa hold your struggling form as Hizashi files your nails, all while you're screaming bloody murder.

While Hizashi likes to do domestic things with you or just have you near him as he does chores, Aizawa let's you out in the field to let you fight him. He thinks it's necessary for you to blow off some steam, and he doesn't mind if he's being honest. Aizawa is always happy to play fight with his little "pup", especially since it doesn't take him more than a few minutes to tire you out.

They do regularly take you to the pack doctor, and while you're busy trying to scratch the poor nurses face off (because she's trying to take your blood pressure), the duo are inquiring what it would take for your alpha to transition into an omega. It's expensive and requires a long term, carefully monitored drug therapy, but they'd invest in it just for you to become the sweet little omega they need.

It's a good thing that they don't use silver on you, because if it were someone like Rei, you'd have permanent burn marks on your skin because of your shiny new silver leash.

#yandere erasermic clan #yandere erasermic #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere aizawa shouta #yandere aizawa x reader #yandere aizawa #yandere present mic #yandere present mic x reader #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere bnha #bnha headcanons #yandere mha #bnha imagines

[seokjinsonlyone]

most to least likely to end up with someone black

hoseok: idk i just get this feeling this vibe likeeeee it just make sense i see it like the way he carry himself like just look at the chicken noodle soup mv and tell me u can't see it and he literally has a song with j cole and if he in there with coleworld he is def in there wit da fam and then we got the whole time he had tinashe as his lockscreen and we all seen the my universe video like he took ole alien girl home idc idc and overall he just reminds me of my grandma so it make sense

jimin: no limit babe like i've seen this man bark at the thought of usher; and in general this year especially including his album jimin has just really been existing in spaces i didn't expect him to see and i am more than pleasantly surprised. like originally when i first made this he was near the bottom idk why bc he's literally performed to take you down but yeah he def up there now. like y'all remember that photo of him wit da choir for set me free SPEAKING OF SET ME FREE F YA OPPS?1!!1 HENNESSY AT NIGHT⁉️ LIKE IF BLACK PEOPLE HAD A REPRESENTATIVE BRAND OF LIQUOR IT WOULD BE HENNESSY LIKE COME ON and then just his personality is soooo i can't explain why he's all the way up here in this list properly but source: trust me bro

joon: listen we all know that joon be looking and be listening like he has a song with erykah badu with wale with anderson paak he be listening to musiq soulchild he is just made for a black woman (me) but he is a little further down on the list than i expected to put him only bc joon is just so korean and he loves korea and being korean that he might wanna keep it the country idk he definitely down for it tho we know he be looking and frfr this is just insurance for myself so if it don't happen i won't feel publicly played bc i called it but just know imma be somewhere on a ledge with my head in my hands wondering if i should do it or not okay kskslsk

yoon: u know i originally had yoongi near the bottom of the list solely bc he was a workaholic homebody and i was like he is not ending up with nobody much less somebody black if he spent all his time in his studio but now he in his social traveling era and i'm just like 🧐 bc clearly he has the ability to uphold foreign relationships (i.e. max, halsey...) and then i think about how he had all black backup dancers for his tonight show performance like i mean i'm not sure how much say they have in that kind of thing but it felt real deliberate to me and then there's the fact that yoongi just has the ability to look comfortable like he fit in anywhere like i'm thinking of that one photo where he was with one of juicewrld's producers and made homeboy look like he was the outsider in his own studio and then on tour it's clear that he got that dawg in him like he can handle his own he can handle ME which is crazy bc i be looking at men and knowing i'm way out of their depth but i'm telling you yoongi had the power to make me not look at jimin which is an insane ability so I'M JS idk if he would but he fo sho could if he wanted he got that lil poker face going so i'm not extremely confident but i can see it

jungkook: i’m not gon mention the fact that he said he liked girls with healthy sun kissed skin after that trip to la on american hustle life imma just leave that out i’ll also leave out normani at the bbmas what i will talk about is them meeting ms megan now ik jk claiming he ain’t shy no more but he still don’t be saying much except for when he met ms megan homeboy was showing up and showing out dancing talking teaching the choreo cackling for no reason man was grinning from ear to ear whole time nose got the workout of a lifetime from being continuously scrunched ALSO i mention this at least once a week but that r&b playlist he had going while he was folding his underwear???? my naega my naega u ain't listening to bryson tiller unless u is down for the cause but all this to say that it's really up in the air with him like as much as he could there is equal chance that he could not like he just got that pop propensity that sways him to the dark side but i could also see him ending up with someone east asian just as well which is fine with me or at least as fine as i can be knowing he's not with me

jin: as he is a permanent member of my bias line it really do hurt me a small amount that he is at the bottom of this list but i know my man 💅 i know mr “you can’t stop me i’m beyoncé” wouldn’t care about the racial difference at all like as long as y'all could communicate it's good in the hood and he is literally built like a black auntie like he would do so well at family functions rizzing up everybody from yo parents to yo grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins he would fit so well but like can i see it happening in reality??? idk idk he is the most unpredictable man i've ever come across so i can't say nun definitively

tae: there's a lot of reasons why he could why he should like idk man i can just see it in his eyes and then there’s like how much he loves old school soul music and his reaction to h.e.r. at the award show that shall not be named and like how he was meeting john legend and i’m also thinking about how social he is and how he likes to befriend everyone like the potential is there it's right there mind u i'm ignoring the current state of affairs but considering how enamored he is with europe like literally dressed up as a nobleman or whatever for his photobook and when he went to that old people jazz lounge and he is really into golf y'all i just don't see it fr but ya know anything's possible

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic #seokjin imagine #min yoongi fanfic #jhope x reader #jimin fanfic #taehyung x you #jungkook imagine