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tlou-reid · 6 months ago

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Security ✿ Aaron Hotchner

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

♡ SUMMARY: reader calls aaron just as he arrives home from a case, needing a savior in her own home. aka baked goodies part 4

♡ WARNINGS: reader has the flu, criminal minds-esque violence, mentions of haley and her death, reader takes medicine for the flu and eats a frozen croissant and i do not wish to offend the French, not edited but when is my stuff ever?

𖤣 Part one here! 𖥧 Part two here! 𖡼 Part three here! ⚘

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

The flu. Of course, just as winter was finally wrapping up, your sniffles start and your throat starts to burn. The cold was no longer nipping at your nose, but you were still shivering at night. The fever you’d started a day ago didn’t feel like it was going away any time soon, so you’d decided to head to the urgent care a few minutes away.

The doctor had been surprised when your flu test came back positive, considering it was late march. “You’re probably the last positive we’ll get until thanksgiving time,” he had remarked as he signed the prescription for you. With a sigh, you made your way to the check out counter, got your prescription and headed to your car. You barely got your key in the ignition when your phone stayed to ring.

“Hi honey,” Aaron’s whisper filled your car as your phone connected via bluetooth. “Hi baby,” you mustered up all of the energy you had to coo at him, wanting to match his energy. He knew you weren’t feeling the best, so any energy you could give him was enough.

You swore he could feel the things you felt sometimes. You knew there was science backing the idea that your heartbeats could sync up, but this was a whole different level. Aaron knew you in ways no one else did, and no one else ever would. You’d been together for almost six months now, and you could very easily picture a lifetime with him. It was almost as if your souls were tied together, creating the most beautiful knot you’d ever seen. One that could only be named love.

“Feeling any better?” His voice was gentle, but you could tell he was keeping quiet. He was probably still in the Chicago Precinct, finishing up a very gruesome case. “I am now that I’m talking to you,” you flirted before breaking into a coughing fit. Your cover was blown. “Are you driving?” Aaron asks, ignoring your flirtation. “I have to get home, Aaron.” You were too tired for his overprotectiveness.

Once again changing the subject, he asks the million dollar question, “What did the doctor say?”

You winced at some dickhead behind you beeping at the car next to you as you answered, “The flu, he gave me some medicine.” You heard Aaron let out a sigh on the other side, “It’s spring time,” he declared, just as puzzled as you were. “I know, that’s what I said.”

“I’m sorry, honey.” You knew that would be his response. There’s nothing he can do but wish you well from about 11 hours away. He wished he could hop on the jet and come home to cuddle the virus out of you. But he couldn’t. He was here, in Chicago, catching evil criminals, and you were back home. You didn’t answer his sentiment, instead opting to sit in comfortable silence on the phone with you. He was alone in the conference room, mapping out similarities from the victims, so he put his phone on speaker and got back to work.

This was a comforting action for Aaron. It gave him some sort of peace he was always seeking when he was away on cases. The hairs on the back of his neck lowered and the pit in his stomach closed. Just a little bit, but the pit closed some.

A few minutes later, you were pulling into your driveway. You couldn’t help but peek out of your rear view mirror. It was as dramatic as a romance movie, the way you longingly looked at Aaron’s home, as if your gaze could spawn him in his front yard.

“Hey Aar,” You said, unable to hide how tired you were, “I’m home.” You couldn’t see but Aaron nodded, knowing that meant you were about to hang up. “Get some rest, please. And don’t forget your medicine.”

“I’m going to bed as soon as I get in the door. You don’t have to worry about me, I promise.” You switched your phone to speaker, disconnecting it from the car and turning the car off. “I’m still going to worry,” Aaron guaranteed. “I know, but try to not.”With a sigh, he agreed“I can do that, I love you.”

Saying “I love you” was something that came had come unexpectedly easy to Aaron. He’d thought after all of the loss he’d faced of people he loved, there would be a hesitancy, a fear that he’d buried somewhere dark and deep. But it wasn’t. It came easy and truthfully, just as being in love with you did.

It was surprising to you how often, how delicately, and how meaningfully Aaron said it. It carried so much weight when he said it, it was a promise every single time. A promise to be there to say it again and again, a promise to fight through whatever awful things are thrown at him to be the best version of himself for you, a promise to be there for you, a promise to be the man you deserve.

Aaron Hotchner was a serious man, always had been and always will be. But he’s especially serious about the people he loves, you and Jack the most.

“I love you too, goodnight.” You joked as you stepped into your home. “Goodnight, get some rest.” Aaron was smiling as he hung up.

You’re not sure how long you slept. It had to have been a few hours, considering it was dark when you woke up. Your head was pounding and and your stomach was rumbling.

You slowly dragged yourself out of bed, fighting through the deep ache in your bones. You couldn’t understand why you were both hot and cold at the same time, or why the ringing in your ears wouldn’t go away. You, despite all of the rest you’d gotten, were feeling about a thousand times worse than you were yesterday.

You stopped at your sock drawer, pulling out the thickest, fuzziest pair you could find, before hobbling down to the kitchen. You’d just gone grocery shopping, so you were sure there was something you could throw into the microwave.

As you rummaged through your fridge like an injured raccoon, your phone buzzed from its spot on the couch, where you’d tossed it after you came in. A text of Aaron lit up the screen, ‘Just got back to the precinct. We just have to fill out some paperwork and then we’ll be on the jet home. See you soon.’ it read.

After taking a few, small bites of the frozen croissant you’d found in the back of your freezer, you responded to Aaron’s text with a simple ‘be safe, love u’, energy level matching what you were currently feeling.

Then you headed back up to bed. There was some kind of uneasiness flowing through your veins, so you pulled up some mindless video to help you relax. You were sure it was just the medicine making you a little queasy, so you did your best to relax so you could sleep away the pounding in your head.

It took a while, about two and a half youtube video essays, but you did slowly drift off into an uncomfortable slumber.

Once again, you were unsure of how long you’d been asleep. You felt groggy, as if you could use a few more hours to truly feel good, even with the flu. You weren’t sure what woke you up, however.

It was dark out, so you reached for your phone to see if Aaron had made it home. ‘2:36’, the screen that was entirely too bright read. You signed, swiping down on your screen to show your notifications. A text from Aaron 35 minutes ago read, “Just got in the door. I bet you’re asleep, give me a call when you wake up. I’ll be up for a while.”

Every muscle in your body hurt, you pushed through for just 13 of them to form a smile at his care of you.

Just as your hand hovered over the call button on his contact, you heard your front door swing open with a bang.

Your head immediately perked up. You inched your way back toward headboard, trying to put yourself in a position as far away from the sound as possible.

Your breathing stopped as you listened. “Hurry the fuck up, we got two more to go to tonight.” You heard an unfamiliar voice call out. It was obvious they were trying to be quiet, albeit unsuccessfully.

Without hesitation, your finger hit the call button. It rang twice before Aaron’s groggy voice was coming through the receiver, “Hey honey, how are you-”

You cut him off with a desperate whisper of his name, “Aaron,” He was stricken with worry immediately. You were sick, so sick. You’d been running almost a 103 degree forever. Despite your medicine, there was no way you’d be able to speak with such conviction in your voice already.

“Aaron,” you repeated with as you squeezed your eyes shut, “Someone’s here.”

Aaron’s heart stopped in his chest. The last time someone entered the house of a person he loved, they never came back out of it. Haley’s last moments alive were spent with someone who was in her house when he shouldn’t have been. And now that was happening to you.

“Where?” Aaron asked as he shuffled around, moving to his gun safe. He quickly input the code, checked the safety and began to make his way to your house. He could hear Jackson barking in the background, doing his best to protect you.

You heard a crash somewhere downstairs, and decided you couldn’t sit anymore. Faster than someone with the flu should be able to, you stood up to move to the bathroom attached to bedroom.

“They’re downstairs, please hurry.” He could hear the fear in your voice, the way you were choking back tears. Jackson’s bark was getting progressively louder had Aaron’s heart speeding up.

Aaron didn’t answer as he approached the door. His end of the call went silent, before you heard your door crash open again. “FBI,” his loud voice boomed through the house. Even Jackson paused at that, standing with his fur perked up and his eyes focused on the door.

Aaron then yelled and you could tell it was directed towards you, “Call the police!”

You did as you were told, hanging up the phone call to dial 911. You quickly explained the situation and gave your address to the dispatcher. You told her that Aaron was here, he was an FBI agent, he was seemingly making sure the intruders weren’t leaving, and to please, please, please, not let him get hurt.

Her calming voice assured her that she wouldn’t.

You sat on the bathroom floor, shaking, running your hands through Jackson’s fur as you waited for the police to arrive. You wished Aaron could handle it. That he had the power to arrest them and it could all be over. But he didn’t, so you were stuck here, waiting, shaking.

It felt like an eternity, but was probably twenty minutes, but you heard the sirens as they pulled up. Once the cops were in the door, Aaron informed them of what was going on, and then made a beeline to your room. The door was still shut from when you went to bed, but not locked. Aaron decided to lecture you later.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room as Jackson creeped out. Aaron gave him a few pats before following where he’d came from.

“Aaron,” he heard your tired voice call out. You were definitely crying, even if you hadn’t noticed it yet. “It’s me, honey,” he answered, finally finding you in the dark. He sat down next to you on the cold tile. He pulled you into his chest, completely enveloping you in nothing but Aaron.

You pressed your ear against his chest, searching for his heartbeat. You could hear how fast it was beating. The sound started to calm you down. As the adrenaline stopping running through you, the illness started to re-emerge.

Aaron didn’t speak as he held you. He held you until you stopped crying. He held you until your breathing evened out. He held you until you stopped shaking. He held you as Jackson curled up at your feet, also trying to protect you.

Ten minutes, then twenty minutes passed, then Aaron lost track of time. Still, he held you close with one arm, and gently combed his fingers through your hair with the other.

“You awake?” He whispered. “Mhm,” you replied. “Let’s go walk around the house.” Your eyebrows furrowed at his request. That was the last thing you wanted to do right now. Your bones hurt and you were scared of what could be lurking in the dark of your house.

“You won’t feel safe unless you know it’s clear.” You shook your head against him. “I won’t feel safe if you leave.” You promised him. Every word was true. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You knew every word of that was true, too.

“Can we go to your house tonight?” Somehow, you were even quieter. “Of course.”

Aaron moved to get up. He stepped over to flick on the lights and then help you up. You tried to ignore how lightheaded the shift in position made you feel, but stumbled as you got up. Aaron reached out, once again protecting you.

“Jackson’s not going to like being alone,” You sighed, with sad eyes. You didn’t want to leave him, but you weren’t going to feel safe. Against every part of his body wanting to tell you he’s just a dog and that’d he be okay, Aaron found himself saying, “He can come, too.”

“You don’t want dogs in your house.” You recalled the countless times Aaron complained about the dog hair. “I’ll make an exception tonight, you’re sick.” He justified. He could feel your body relax in his arms. With Aaron and Jackson by yourself, you knew you’d feel safe and secure. “Thank you, honey.” Aaron smiled at you using his favorite nickname for you.

“Well, let’s walk around and then we’ll head over.” You nod, following his lead. Aaron holds your hand as he guides you through the house, checking every nook and cranny he could think of. Jackson stayed right by your side.

As you made it to the bottom floor of the house, you could see two police cars still sitting, and two cops standing out front talking. You knew you’d have to give a statement or something eventually, but you were hoping Aaron could pull some strings due to how exhausted your body was.

“All clear,” You remark as you finish looking over the house. You’d have to replace your door handle on your front door, and your living room was in complete disarray, but you knew it’d be much worse if Aaron hadn’t come when he did. He was your savior tonight.

Aaron pulls you close again, relishing in your skin being against his. He was coming down from his own adrenaline high and all he wanted to do was hold you, so he could know that you were safe and alive, and opportunity that he didn’t have with Haley.

Something deep inside of him was gratified tonight. He knew that he could never replace Haley, that the love and the fear and the heartbreak he felt for her would always linger and would never, ever go away. But he also knew that he was a different man. He was a better man. A better father, a better lover. He knew that wherever Haley was, he was proud of the man Aaron had become. The man you helped him become.

Aaron pressed a kiss to your forehead, squeezed your shoulder, and then said, “Let’s go home.” You didn’t have to remind him about Jackson, as he moved to the closet that you kept his leash in. As if he could feel the heaviness in the air, Jackson didn’t put up an excited fight to put his leash on.

Aaron held your hand in his right, and Jackson’s leash in his left as he guided the two of you outside. You three took a few paces into the yard, before he was handing you the leash, mumbling an “I’ll be right back,” before walking to where the police were lingering.

You couldn’t hear what was going on, but you saw Aaron shake their hand after talking to them, and then he returned to your side. “They said you can go to the station in the morning to talk to them since I gave a statement. I told them you have the flu, so maybe we can get it pushed back more.” You nodded at his words, and slipped your hand back in his. Aaron ran his thumb along the soft skin of your hand as you walked across the street to his house.

Once you got inside, Aaron let you shower as he found a bowl that Jackson could drink from. The hot water helped your muscles relax, and unstuffed your nose. It felt good to be breathe for a couple minutes.

Aaron was already in bed when you made in to the room. Jackson was curled up on the floor at the end of the bed, softly snoring until you opened the door. “Come here,” Aaron gestured to the empty side of the bed. You complied and he pulled you tight against his side.

Even with the ache in your bones and burn in your throat returning, this was best you’d felt all week.

You tried your best to sleep. When that didn’t work, you tried your best to at least lay still so Aaron could sleep. When that also didn’t work, you sat up in the bed, frustrated. All you’d wanted to do all day was sleep, and now your body was still reeling from your house being broken into, so you could.

“You alright?” Aaron asked, hand moving to run along your thigh. “I can’t sleep,” You mumbled. You felt Aaron nod, before his hands slid up your body, guiding you by your torso to lay back down next to him. He pressed a kiss against your shoulder once he could reach it. “Let’s just lay here, then.”

You nodded, wiggling closer to him. His hand kept moving along your thigh, and you used it to slow your breathing down, matching it to the movement.

You weren’t sure how long you laid like that before Aaron broke the silence, “What would you think about moving in with me?” It was quiet, almost a whisper. It was easily the most timid you’d ever heard him be.

“Can Jackson come?” Aaron laughed at your response, a little less nervous than he’d previously been. “Of course,” he responded. It was quiet for a little bit as you pondered the question, before you replied, “If you talk to Jack and he’s okay with it, then I will consider it.”

Aaron nodded, know that was the best answer he could’ve received given your illness and how late it was. “Okay,” he replied, pressing one more kiss to your shoulder before laying back down next to you.

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russellsppttemplates · 10 months ago

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We don't fit together (Lando Norris)

Your lifestyle is so different to Lando's that maybe everyone else is right

Note: english is not my first language. I'm not sure how I feel about this, it's like a love hate relationship with it to be completely honest... I hope it's still enjoyable to read! Update: there's a part 2 here !

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions reader's insecurities about herself and about her relationship with Lando, alcohol consumption

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

Lando facetimes and he's going to a club wherever he is

"Hello, baby!", Lando greeted with a bug smile when you picked up his video call.

"Hey love, congrats on your podium!", you smiled back, now able to congratulate him face to face even if through a screen, "Don't you look handsome, hm?", you bit your lip once he set the phone and clasped his bracelets on his wrist.

The outfit was simple but he made it look so good. He was wearing black jeans, a white t-shirt and a backwards black cap was covering his curls. Had he been right in front of you, you would have already laced your arms around his neck and littered little kisses along the tanned skin.

"Thank you, baby", he blushed slightly, "Max and Kelly are also going to the club where Martin is playing tonight", he smiled, "it's really good and it's supposed to have the craziest nights out in town, so we're going to check it out - I miss you loads, can't wait to go back home", he mused.

"Me too, but I'm glad you're having a good time out there! I'm not going to say I wish I was there because it doesn't look like my scene, but I can't wait to have you with me, love", you giggled.

"That's true, I don't think it would be very enjoyable for you", Lando agreed, "we're leaving in the morning, which will be night time for you, so I'll text you updates and then when I arrive we can have an early dinner in that restaurant you really like near my place and then you could spend the night. How does that sound?", he suggested.

"Sounds good to me", you smiled at the prospect. Time couldn't go by faster.

"I have to go, baby - Max and Kelly are already downstairs waiting for me! I love you and I can't wait to kiss your gorgeous face", he winked.

"Go enjoy yourself, Lan, you deserve it! Give my congratulations to Max and send Kelly a hug from me. I love you!", you blew him a kiss before he ended the call.

Work commitments and some family situations had kept you from going to the race weekend. It was a common thing to happen but it still left you missing Lando like crazy, counting down the hours until he was on your arms again.

You finished cooking your dinner, ate it and then headed to the living room, ready to unwind and start your bedtime routine, getting a selfie from Kelly with Max and Lando in it too, the club lights illuminating then enough to tell them apart.

When you woke up, like promised, Lando had sent you a text saying he had boarded the jet and everything was on schedule. Opening the text, you saw that a few hours before he had also sent you a video.

It was less than a minute, but you could see Martin and Lando at the DJ table, happily interacting with the crowd before mixing some music up and dancing along, "I love you, baby!", Lando said into the phone before he ended the video.

You did your morning workout, showered and while you were having breakfast, you scrolled through your social media, seeing some edits from the race and a couple of videos from the club Lando, amongst other drivers, partied in.

The first one was a different angle from the one you had been sent, someone on the dance floor recording it and sending it to a fan page.

They usually didn't say much other than stating facts about the video, where it was taken, who was in it and who had sent it. This one, however, seemed to spark up the conversation as a lot of people had opinions about it.

He just looks so good 🥵 I'd never be able to leave his side if I was with him!

He always has the best night out spots

He just looks so happy when he's doing it, it's great he has friends who support him in it outside of racing

Scrolling down, a gossip page post popped up. Unlike the other videos, this one was in a controlled environment and it seemed to be from someone on the VIP area. You could see Lando and Martin talking to a group of people before the girl flipped the camera, speaking into her phone as subtitles showed "I can't believe this, it's Lando Norris! Fp you think we should go up to him? I bet he's here alone as usual", the blonde girl said as she swept her hair over her shoulder. She looked stunning, hair curled to perfection and make-up done in such a complementing way it showed skills you knew you didn't have yourself, "I've seen Max and Kelly, and Carlos was just at the bar I think", another girl with short black hair said.

"You know what I mean, he's never here with what's her face", she giggled tipsily.

Dating Lando meant that you were exposed to these type of interactions from people online on a daily basis, more frequently whenever he posted you or you joined him for the race weekend. On the comments, some people alerted the page admin and the girl who sent the video about how offensive it was and how they didn't have the right to talk about you like that, but it didn't seem to do much as other people left their opinion.

He'd be so much better without her, did you see the article where someone at the club said he left with another girl? She's done for...

It wouldn't surprise me tbh, there's only so much it can work before you realise you don't have similar interests and things are not making you happy

Lando would be so good with someone who is in the public eye, can you imagine all the content we would get?

Shaking it off of your body, you closed the app and locked your phone, taking a deep breath as your mind started filling with all sorts of doubts.

At the start, noise from the media was easy to reason with, but lately it was all you could think about. Every week with every interaction Lando had with another woman, they would suggest he was in a relationship despite knowing you were dating eachother. You didn't understand why, but they had even taken the extra step of having someone comment on it and give their opinion on it, as if there was an opinion to give on who he dated and didn't date.

Getting up, your put some music on your headphones and started tidying the house. You couldn't sort your thoughts out, so might as well deal with the mess on your apartment.

"I missed you so much", Lando said once you opened the door, his arms instantly wrapping around your body and walking you backwards, closing the door with his foot, "hello, my love", he said, nipping a few kisses on your neck before he looked up, finally kissing your lips after having spent so long away from you.

"Hello, Lan", you cupped his face, kissing his lips again as his hands roamed along your waist and back, "I'm so glad you're back home", you smiled.

"Me too, especially when I'm greeted like this", he smirked, looking you up and down. In the last two years, you still hadn't gotten fully used to the way he would look at you.

His heart swelled with pride because you were his, all for him and no one else, "I love this colour on you", he kissed your exposed clavicle, "as much as I'd love to continue this, we have reservations to get to", he smiled before licking the spot he just kissed, "let's go, gorgeous", he encouraged, making you get your coat and bag and put on your shoes, ready to go.

Lando got VIP entrances to a fairly new club, and since Max was in town, too, you decided to join them on a night out. Despite the opinions everyone on the internet seemed to have, you did enjoy going out, just not every week or even every month. Shutting down your laptop after sending the last e-mail, you went to shower and start getting ready.

Making sure the towell was secure on your head and the robe was soaking up all the water remnants from your skin, you walked up to your wardrobe, running your fingers through the options you had for tonight. Settling in an outfit you felt both comfortable and beautiful in, you were quick to dry yourself and change, grabbing a simple black bag out of your closet and then heading to the bathroom for hair and make-up. You clipped your loose waves away from your face once they were dry while you applied some foundation to even out your skin tone, hiding the dark circles that came with the little sleep you'd gotten that week, bronzing, highlighting and contouring what needed, doing your brows and applying some mascara to your lashes. You weren't too fussed about makeup, choosing to stay on the simpler side of things, not bothering with the little moles and pimples that still showed through as you'd end up with your face resembling a pancake instead.

Checking if you were on time, you grabbed your watch and bracelets and clasped them to your wrist before clasping your necklace on your neck and putting simple hoop earrings, appreciating your final look in the mirror.

Not too much, not too little, but you didn't look like the girls your boyfriend was rumoured to be dating. The article came from a magazine where they had analysed everyone they thought would suit Lando and his lifestyle, and even though you tried yo ignore it, Lando was the first to come to your place and tell you, in person, that he had nothing to do with those girls and most of them he didn't even knew personally anyway, spending the rest of the night in your bed reminding how much he loved you and only you.

Lando was coming to pick you up soon, so you headed to the living room to wait for him. A knock on the door announced his presence, "I'm here to pick up the most beautiful woman in the whole wide world - my girlfriend", he charmed before taking a good look at you, "you're stunning, baby, breath taking", he gasped.

"C'mon, let's go", you urged, your cheeks blushing at the attention he was giving you, "Baby girl, a little twirl for me first", he smirked, as you did it, "we're both one good looking couple, aren't we?", he added, kissing your cheek as you played with the thin chain around his neck, "you look great, handsome, so great", you kissed his throat before closing the door behind you.

As you walked inside the club with Lando, who laced your hand in his as soon as he saw the crowded place, you took it all in.

It would be a lie to say that your senses hadn't been invaded all at once when you stepped into the VIP area of the club, different kinds of substances in the air and some perfume notes invading your nose, lights flashing your eyes as the loud music rang in your ears and drummed on your feet.

Lando carefully guided you through the people - the less crowded zone helping your movements -, always keeping you close as he looked for Max and Martin.

"Hey! You finally made it!", Max said as he greeted you, "Y/N, fancy sering you here! You look amazing as always", he complimented your black pants and emerald green one shoulder top outfit.

"Hi, I'm Martin, have we met before?", he asked after he pulled you for a half hug, "I don't think so, no, I'm Y/N", you smiled at his kindness and welcoming demeanour.

"You weren't joking when you said you were going to bring special company tonight", the dutch DJ nudged Lando with his elbow before fistbumping his hand.

"My special lady only goes out when the music is really good, so you should feel honoured, mate", Lando tsked, kissing the side of your head and smiling down at you. He was so happy you were there with him.

"The bar is over there, c'mon! Let's go and get something", Max suggested, leading the way with Martin right behind him as Lando's hands squeezed your waist again as he guided you to the bar, occasionally nodding to acquaintances you two bumped into.

Getting yourself a drink and Lando grabbing something non-alcoholic for him, "I'm driving us both home tonight, I don't want to do anything irresponsible", he reasoned as the four of you engaged in conversation about the set Lando and Martin would be doing. You had always been a kept to yourself type of person, not really letting people in until you knew for sure what their intentions were, but having Lando and Max there gave you enough ease to chat with Martin too while you waited for them to go up to the booth.

Granted this wasn't your usual choice of plans, you had been out enough times to know what it entailed and what to expect, a lot of people you didn't know coming up to greet your boyfriend, some seeming closer friendships to him that others.

"Are you okay, baby? We'll have to go up in a bit, do you want to stay here or go up there?", he questioned, "I need to go to the bathroom, I won't be long hopefully, but I can meet you up there when I come back - do you think that will be okay?", you wondered, "yes, of course! Just wave at me or Max if anyone gives you any trouble, beautiful", he kissed you, "I love you", he mumbled against your lips, squeezing your hips softly before Martin pulled on his arm.

On your way to the bathroom, you accidentally touched the railing on the stairs when you were set your cup down on the designated area, the liquid on it making your squirm a little as you held out your hand like you had touched poison. For all you knew, it could be something like that.

There were two girls waiting to use one of the stalls, prompting you to gently slot yourself in front of them, "sorry, but do you mind if go first just now? I just need to wash my hand and then I'll be back to the line", you asked politely as they nodded, the first one going to the stall that freed up and making room for you as the other girl stepped out. Her face was familiar as you took a glance in the mirror, and from the smile she gave you through the mirror, you assumed she probably recognised you too.

Washing your hands again when you came out of the stall, you walked to the bar and got yourself a bottle of water, noticing your boyfriend already pressing and tapping the buttons on the mixing table as everyone danced and many captured the moment on their phones while you waited. The booth looked tight and, truthfully, quite exposed, so you decided to stay where you had been previously, still able to enjoy yourself and dance while you watched Lando and Martin.

Max must've thought the same as he spotted you a few minutes later, twirling you around before he set his drink on the high table.

"Ruby!", Max yelled as the girl from the bathroom walked up to him and gave him a hug followed by another girl you assumed was her friend, introducing her to Max before turning to you.

"You're Y/N, right?", she asked, noticing your surprised expression, "sorry, I didn't mean to be so blunt - I'm Ruby, this is my friend Katie", she introduced, "we bumped into you in the bathroom, and it looked like you knew who I was", she clarified, still noticing apprehension from you, "I know Lando - we're acquaintances, I guess", she said.

"I'm so sorry, your face was familiar but I didn't know where from", you apoligised, "I kept going over in my head but I couldn't pinpoint where I knew you from", you gulped.

Up close and in the club environment, you were now sure of why her face was so familiar. She was one of the girls the gossip magazine page mentioned. She was gorgeous and from the way people greeted her, she seemed to attend many parties and nights out at that club.

"It's okay - Lando has told me about you, by the way", she smiled before her friend pitched in, "it's so nice to finally see you here, it's a good thing you came here to see him. I didn't think it would suit you, but it does look like you're having a good time", Katie offered before sipping from her drink.

"Yes, it's quite fun actually, Martin and Lando are a good duo I'd say", you smiled, pushing the backhanded compliment to the back of your mind for now.

"Do you want something to drink, Y/N? I can get it for you!", Max offered and you shook your head no, thanking him for his offer but politely declining as you saw him walk to the bar with Ruby.

"How has your night been, Y/N?", she tried to start up a conversation and appear put together even though it was clear she had drank over her limit, "I never see you here with Lando - he usually hangs out with us when he isn't pretending to be a world famous DJ", she giggled, "so are you enjoying it? I know it's not really your scene".

"It's not my usual, no, but I enjoy a night out every now and again", you remained polite, "He's really happy when he does it and he gets to relax a little and forget his troubles for a bit, it's a good thing".

"He's really funny, yes, and charming too", she hiccuped, "I'm sure people come here for a good night out anyway, but I just know that most of these people here", she pointed to the people dancing, "are here for him because they know he enjoys a good party and they do too - I guess they're hoping their similar interests will cross paths", she smiled.

She was really trying to get to you, and much to your disappointment in yourself, she was successfully doing it.

"That's how he is wired, you know? Parties after parties, living it up with all the luxury he has access to, and at such a young age, he has everything on his fingertips, anyone even! It's just a matter of him choosing what he really wants", she added, straightening herself against the table when Ruby walked back with Max.

"What were you two chatting about?", Ruby asked as she set the drinks on the table, Max doing the same with his.

"I was just telling Y/N how it usually is around here, but tonight they've upped their game because Lando is playing, look at him!", Katie pointed at your boyfriend before she started dancing around.

"He's really fun at these functions", Ruby offered, "looks like it is something he enjoys doing", she said in an earnest tone, and for a few seconds, you wanted to believe she wasn't digging at you like her friend was and was just stating a fact.

Lando had a big smile on his face. His skin was glowing both from his tan and the sheen of the sweat from how warm it was up there, occasionally holding Martin's hand when he hugged him from behind and rested his hand on his sternum. All troubles were put to a halt when he enjoyed his time off with friends doing things he loved.

Once the set was over and the speakers played what you assumed was some random playlist for the moment, Lando and Martin came back to join you at the table, "did you enjoy it, Y/N?", Martin asked.

"I did, it was very good!", you smiled, feeling Lando's hands on your waist before his mouth whispered on your ear, "Hi, baby" and kissed your neck.

"Did you stay here for the whole set?", he wondered, "yes, it looked a little cramped up in there so I stayed here with Max, then Ruby and Katie joined us for a bit", you nodded with your eyes as Katie seemed to notice your eyes on here, waving back at you and Lando.

"Oh, Ruby - she's nice, I met her girlfriend the last time I was here - so that's her friend?", he mused turning fully around to face you.

"Should be, we didn't really talk much", you shrugged your shoulders.

"Did you really enjoy it, Y/N? You can say no and we'll be out of here of you don't want to stay", Lando offered, "I myself am getting quite tired actually", he said as he rested his hand on top of his stomach.

"I did, you did really well up there, and you looked really handsome", you smirked, twirling a curly lock that fell on his forehead.

It didn't take long before people started leaving, the night already mostly done with after Lando danced with you for a bit, noticing you seemed to also have spent most of your battery and wete in deep need of going back home. Bidding goodbye to everyone, you and Lando made your way to his car as he drove you back to his apartment where you had planned to spend the night.

Taking your heels off and putting on your slippers, you waited for Lando to lock the door and join you in the living room, thumbs fiddling with eachother.

Noticing your behaviour, Lando knocked on the door and approached you gently, "You alright, baby? You've been quiet since before we left the club. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better? Is your tummy upset? Or is it your head", he listed the possible causes of your discomfort.

He was however missing the point. It seemed you both missed it until now. For you at least anyway, he still didn't notice it.

Better late than never.

"I'm not judging your choices, it's not my place and definitely not on this... but... do you think we work?", you quesioned, your lips trembling slightly as all emotions seemed to come back to the front. How different you were, how his interests weren't similar to yours, how his happiness was something you were getting in the way of.

"What do you mean if we work?", Lando asked, genuinely not understanding your question.

"We're so different, Lando. Your lifestyle has nothing similar to mine, and I'm not even talking about money - that's a pretty obvious one and something not most humans can do anyway -, I'm talking about being the soul of the party, always ready to go on to the next night out and plan everything surrounding it. I don't do nightlife like you do, I barely do it at all. And that's okay for me as it is okay for you with what you do", you clarified.

"What are you saying, Y/N?", he inquired, a new tone of defensiveness in his voice.

"I'm saying we don't fit together like that", you let the words out, your heart shattering as each syllable came out.

"Y/N, that doesn't mean anything", Lando began, "sure, there are different interests that we don't have in common and that we don't share, but that doesn't make it not work between us! Why would it?", he argued, "it sounds to me like you're calling our relationship out because I like to go out and you don't and I don't agree with it".

"Lando, it hurts, it's painful", you stated, tears falling from your eyes at your admission.

It caught him off guard and his brain shifted somewhere else. To the promise he made you and the promise he made himself. He would never make you hurt and he would never be the cause of your pain.

"Y/N, baby, we can talk about this better when we've gathered our thoughts", he tried even though any suggestion he could make would potentially increase your pain. And he couldn't bear to do that.

"No one would ever see you and see me and say that we were good together, it just took us longer to see what they have noticed so long ago - so much so that they think you deserve someone else", you murmured.

"But I don't need anyone else's opinion when I have you", he mused softly, wanting to take your hand in his but you still fiddled with your thumbs before wiping your cheeks.

"Y/N, I promise that whatever is going on in your head is not the truth - your mins is telling you awful lies. I love you so much and I don't think like that", he tried to reason, "That's not what we are".

"I want to go home", you gulped, "I'm going to get an Uber", you announced, looking at a broken Lando.

"Can I drive you there, please?", he asked, himself feeling like prolonging the argument would only lead to worse but needing to make sure you felt he wouldn't give up, "I'd feel better being in charge of the car taking you home than anyone else at this time", he reasoned.

"You won't ask me anything else? Can we do it in silence?", you asked. The words had a bitter taste on your mouth like they didn't belong there. Chatting with Lando was one of your favourite things in the world, hearing his voice and his giggles, those were the best sounds ever known to man.

"Okay, if that's how you want it", Lando assured, grabbing his keys while you put your shoes back on along with your coat.

The drive to your apartment was agonisingly silent. Lando wanted to ask you where this left your relationship, you wanted to ask him if what he said was true.

"We're here", Lando announced, stopping the car and getting out, waiting for you to get out and meet him by the driver's seat door, "I- Y/N, is this goodbye?", he worked himself up to ask, "because I don't want that, we can talk about his and sort it out, please, this is what we do, love", he pleaded.

"Can we talk about it another day? I can't think straight tonight, and I don't want to say things that will hurt you because of that", you suggested.

"Sure", Lando sighed, "whenever you're ready. I love you, Y/N", he looked into your eyes, refraining from kissing your forehead even though that was all he wanted to do.

"Thank you, for this and for bringing me home, Lan, I love you", you looked back into his eyes.

He was hurt, too, and the last three words you said seemed to have brought anger to the mix as well. There was a grey hue and the sparkle was lost despite the moon glistening.

"Have a good night, baby, I love you more than words can say, and I will fight for you and for us, even if I'm the only one in the battlefield, I'll fight for both of us", he assured.

Part 2

#lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

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darknight3904 · 1 month ago

Text

All Too Well

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: The first month in Jackson passes by slowly. Joel wishes you'd confront him about the past but fear has your lips sealed tight.

Warnings: 18+ Language, SA (Not by Joel), Starvation, Animal Death, Eating Disorders, Plastic boobs, and Lingerie (do we need a warning for those things?) Joel and Reader are pros at avoiding the elephant in the room!

Word Count: 4.1k

Previous Part / Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

I didn't have much time to edit this one so sorry if there are typos :)

December 31, 2023

Joel carefully set the table according to Maria's directions. His new sister-in-law had decided that a New Year's Eve dinner would be appropriate for this year. Of course, drinks with the rest of the community at the Tipsy Bison would follow.

He eavesdropped on Ellie and Tommy's conversation from the other room.

"And then, you just keep mixing like this." Tommy explained, "And then...slowly fold in the sugar."

"You're pretty good at this." She compliments

"Had a real good teacher."

When he and Ellie stepped into the warm home, Joel could hardly believe what he was seeing. His younger brother was wearing a purple and green apron, baking a fleet of cupcakes to share with the rest of Jackson. Twenty years ago, Tommy would've eaten half-frozen pizza bites and dubbed it "a healthy dinner."

Joel had no idea how Maria had turned his brother into the Pillsbury Dough Boy, but he had to admit it was one of the funnier things he'd seen in a while.

Speaking of Maria, Joel swore he'd eventually win her over. He was pretty sure she was slowly warming up to him. After all he'd only been in Jackson a month or so and here he was invited to a family dinner.

"Dude, your brother is like...the best baker in the world," Ellie says as she shuffles into the dining room.

"Really? Last time I saw him he was still burning Chef Boyardee." Joel teases

"That was years ago, asshole!" Tommy's voice calls to defend himself, "I'm a great cook now. Besides I don't recall you being some Master Chef, Joel."

"Two days you burned that bacon I brought home from that Jesse kid," Maria said flatly as she checked on the ham in the oven.

"You're not helping."

"I wasn't trying to."

The sudden gust of cold air has Joel turning his attention the the front door that has slammed against the wall behind it.

"Shit, it's so windy out there!"

He'd know that voice anywhere, how could he forget it? Ever since his arrival in Jackson, he practically heard it every time he closed his damn eyes.

Joel watched as you hung your coat up and pulled your boots off before greeting Maria who was already standing there with open arms. He awkwardly stood as you greeted Tommy with the same amount of enthusiasm before letting your gaze fall on him.

He feels his mouth dry up as you take him in. What is he supposed to say? Hi? Long time no see? Sorry, I broke up with you and then the world ended?

Lucky for him a certain 14-year-old is there and always ready to fill the silence.

“Hi, I'm Ellie.”

Joel watched as she bounced right up to you, eager to get to know the new stranger.

“I know…I've uh seen you around the stables.” You say slowly

“Oh yeah! That foal Shimmer she's super cute!”

Dinner is awkward or well, Joel is awkward. He sits next to Ellie and listens to her talk your ears off about this and that, mostly mundane things like her comics or fun facts about space. You listen intently, adding comments here and there and Joel's reminded of the way you'd listen to Sarah's ramblings.

Tommy nudges his foot under the table and Joel looks up to see Maria looking at him expectantly.

“Sorry, what?” He asks

“I was asking if you'd want to try your hand at patrol later this week. Tommy said you're not fitting in with any of the other jobs around here.” She says

The idea is a great one, truly. Joel has felt rather trapped the past month behind Jackson's huge walls. Leaving again would feel like a breath of fresh air.

“That’d be great.” He nods in thanks, thinking of how nice it'd be to do something other than bake bread or sweep stables.

“Good.” Maria smiles before turning to you, “And you, can show Joel the ropes.”

Joel nearly chokes on his food and he hears you sputter into your glass of water.

“What?”

Three days later and It's around 7 in the morning when Maria forces you and Joel out of the gates of Jackson. Mounted on horseback Joel follows your lead as you explain the basic route.

“We'll stop down at this mall today. Sweep for infected and people.” You say, “There's a Macy's that hadn't been cleared out yet, Ellie might like some of the girl's clothes there.”

Joel nods, he hasn't said anything much to you, only asking a few questions. Truly, he's not sure what to say. Does he start with small talk, the weather, how Shimmer is doing? Or does he dive right in to address what both of you dance around?

Joel follows you around, listening to you talk about the route, what you normally see, and how many people you've run into in the past few months. Unsurprisingly, he's good at all of it, asking the right questions and following your lead. Now, as you stand in the ruins of Greenpines Mall, you watch him sift through racks of the Juniors section of Macy's.

“Can I help?” You ask, probably tired of just standing there in silence and watching him.

“Uh, yeah. She's into space and dinosaurs. Probably a size small in everything but hoodies. Said she likes em’ oversized.”

You nod and walk to another rack, pushing different items aside and mumbling about how hard it was going to be to find a dinosaur in the teenage girl's section.

Joel stuffs a few items into his backpack and you're able to find a nice maroon sweatshirt.

“The men's section is that way.” You point to your left, “I'm gonna uh… go upstairs and grab some stuff for myself.”

“Should stick together.” Joel reasons, following where your finger points “Safer like that.”

You look at him and he hopes you can tell he's being fully serious. His brows pinch together, anticipating you'll reject him.

“Fine. But no complaining.”

Joel wasn't expecting to find himself in the lingerie section of the store. The embarrassed huff he lets out has you laughing. At least you were happy about all this.

“Quit whining, I just need a few new bras.” You sigh turning away from him as he stands there, making sure his eyes remain fixed on the floor.

Just because the world had ended didn't mean he wanted to be surrounded by racks of ladies' underwear and bras.

You only get about twenty steps from him and he takes a small step back, bumping into something tall. A loud curse falls from his lips as he tries to catch the mannequin he's knocked over.

“God bless it…” He groans, trying to stand her back up.

He catches the way you roll your eyes when his hands land on the mannequin's plastic tits, perfectly obscured bythe red lace of some skimpy overpriced thing.

He didn't mean to do that, he swears.

“Maybe don't grope the models, Joel.” You tease

“I'm not.” Joel snaps, finally getting it to stand again, “Walked into it by accident.”

“Sure you did.”

Joel didn't know what to expect from you today. Stony silence had been at the top of his list. Teasing him though? That hadn't been anywhere on his radar.

You're so different yet familiar at the same time, it's driving him up the wall.

He keeps his eyes on the floor as you hum an unknown tune, picking different things up for yourself, and muttering about sizing.

Joel lets out a grunt when you shove something into his chest.

“Give these to Ellie too.” You say, “In the apocalypse, a girl can never have too many sports bras.”

He doesn't bother looking at the fabric in his hands, trusting your judgment and simply moving to place it next to the shirts he's already picked up for Ellie.

The ride back to Jackson is quiet. No teasing words from you, and the horse's trotting fills the silence as a few birds chirp as they fly overhead.

The fact that you seem content not to mention anything from the past has Joel's stomach in knots. Surely you can't be okay with it all? He's spent the past month worrying about how he'd ever address any of it.

“We're not gonna talk about it?” He asks

“About what?” You ask “You mean the mannequin? I was just kidding about that, Joel.”

“About us.” He says quietly

A beat of silence and then,

“What do you want me to say, Joel?”

“Anythin’. Yell at me. Scream. Slap me.” Joel huffs, “Don't wanna spend time dancin’ around our past. Let it all out.”

You let out a scoff that has Joel's stomach dropping,

“I don't see why I should do any of that. It was 20 years ago, Joel. I've made my peace with it.”

Joel looks over at you, taking in the way the setting sun makes your features glow. Your gaze is fixed on the gates of Jackson. They're only half a mile away but they might as well be half a million with the way your gaze is so permanently fixed on them. All of a sudden, you're adamant about not looking at him.

A dozen things swarm in his mind. Half of him wants to get off his horse, pull you off yours and shake you until you come to your senses, to urge you to put him through the ringer and really let him have it. The other half of him is telling him that you look really good today and that he noticed your bra size has gone up since 2003.

God, he was losing it.

So many things that could be said, perhaps should be said yet all that comes out of him is,

“Alright, suit yourself.”

For the next two weeks, Joel doesn't see much of you. Every once in a while he peaks through the curtains of his own home, hoping to get a glimpse of you returning but, he never does.

Ellie of course, takes immediate notice of his window-watching and declares that he ‘has a huge crush on the horse lady next door!’.

To Joel's mortification, she takes this information to Maria who tells Tommy, and before Joel knows it he's being teased by his younger brother in his own damn home.

“And she doesn't know anything about you and her?” Tommy asks one evening over a glass of whiskey

“No. And I'm keeping it that way. So don't go running your mouth.” Joel says glaring at his younger brother.

Tommy raises his hands in Innocence.

“If Ellie finds out it won't be from me.” He says, “But she'll find out, eventually. You know that right, Joel?”

“No, she won't.”

You spend more time and effort avoiding Joel than you should. At first, you thought you might be able to work around your shared past, but you teased him on your one and only shared patrol shift. But, when Joel asked you to share your thoughts on the past, you had clammed up. It was then, half a mile from Jackson's gates that you knew you wouldn't be able to be friendly with him.

You didn't know what Joel wanted. He said he wanted you to scream at him, to curse him out about a three-month relationship that happened 20 years ago. And maybe, if he'd shown up a few years back with Tommy you might've. Instead, it's like your mouth has been glued shut about it all.

Over the past two weeks, your mind had conjured a thousand different things to say to him. Some are full of anger, others sadness. But, you never say any of them. Instead, you choose to avoid him, trading patrol shifts and even taking graveyard shifts at the wall to put distance between the two of you.

Maria had coined it one day after you invited her over for lunch so you could talk to her about her baby.

“You're scared.” She said after listening to the way you described not being able to confront him about it.

“Scared?” You scoff as you shove a spoonful of soup into your mouth, “He should be scared of me.”

“You're scared it'll happen all over again. That he'll leave you like he did back then.”

Maria was so wrong. Honestly, she was losing her mind. You chalked it up to the baby. Yes, that evil little fetus was probably munching away at her brain to grow its own. Ironic since Cordyceps pretty much did the same thing.

Scared? You weren't scared of Joel Miller. No, not in a thousand years.

Wednesday, January 21, 2024. A day that Joel was going to mull over probably for the rest of his life. After all, it marked the start of a friendship.

He was surprised to find you already in the stables, ready for patrol for the day. Finally, you'd turned up instead of some random person you'd found to switch shifts with.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” He says, the name flying off his tongue before he can stop it.

You shoot him a look he can't quite place as he saddles up his horse, Turnip.

“Don't do that.” You huff as you stroke your own horse, Pepper's mane avoiding eye contact with him.

“What?” Joel asks dumbly knowing full well you mean the nickname he'd let slip.

How many times had he called you that back in the day? Over the three months, it must've been well over a thousand.

“ Don't give me little nicknames with that stupid voice of yours and pretend you don't know what you're doing.” You scold

“Sorry.” Joel sighs, pulling himself onto his horse as you saddle up, “Wait you think my voice is stupid?”

The day goes by smoothly. No infected or people to be seen. Joel is surprised when you point out deer tracks. 20 years ago you'd shuddered at the idea of blood, now you were plotting the demise of some deer that wasn't even here.

“It's probably long gone.” He says

Your face falls in disappointment, “Really?”

“Tracks are old. There's snow drifts over a few of them too.” He points at the ground to the prints that are further up.

“Damn…I thought I had it this time.” You huff

“Tracking isn't easy.” Joel says, “Takes time.”

“Tommy's been teaching me, but I'm not really good at it.” You sigh

Joel feels jealousy swirl in his chest. What was he even jealous of? His married brother teaching his ex-girlfriend a vital survival skill in the apocalypse? There was something seriously wrong with Joel's brain these days.

“You're better than Ellie. She wouldn't have even seen the tracks, let alone been able to tell that it was a deer.”

“So you're saying I'm a bit better than a 14-year-old who doesn't even know what the Internet was?”

Joel shrugs and gives you a small smile.

“Thanks, Joel. I appreciate it.” You roll your eyes

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

A sharp glare is sent to him and he sits up a bit straight. Turnip snorts as he falls into step beside Pepper.

“Sorry, I'll stop. I swear.”

Joel watches as you munch away at deer jerky and dried pieces of fruit. He takes note of the way you practically engulf your lunch. He'd noticed the same thing a few weeks back at the New Years Eve dinner. You'd shoved your entire plate of the delicious ham Maria had made into your mouth in record time. Even Ellie had taken more time to eat the meal and Joel had recently watched the kid eat three cookies in what was basically one bite.

“Slow down.” He warns “You're going to choke.”

You look up from your food, staring at him with wide eyes and a stuffed mouth that probably would put chipmunks to shame.

“This is slow.” You say after you somehow swallow it all.

Joel raises a brow at that. Do you even realize you've put away nearly double what he had in half the time?

During your time together you'd often reminded Joel of a bird. Picking at different foods and then slowly eating whatever you deem good. In true college student fashion, most of those foods had been pizza and greasy Chinese takeout. Not that he could blame you, he also thoroughly enjoyed both of those things way back when.

The woman who sits In front of him is not the one he dated as a 35-year-old man. You're even eating the raisins out of the trail mix, and Joel knows you hate raisins.

“Just…take a breath. Drink some water.” He says, eying you carefully, pushing the canteen towards you.

You huff and unscrew the cap, drinking a bit before shutting it again.

“Happy?”

“Yes,” Joel says

Back on the horses, Joel notices the way you're looking a bit ill. Your face is screwed up a bit and he can tell you're nauseous. It's from eating too quickly, he can tell. You'd eaten all of your food and then when he'd offered some of his own, you'd enthusiastically taken him up on it. Normally he'd have no issues with it but it was the speed that concerned him.

“Wanna stop for a bit?” He asked, hoping you weren't going to puke onto poor Pepper's head.

You nod and quickly dismount from Pepper. Joel ties the horses off on a nearby tree before walking over to you. Patrol be damned, he had to make sure you weren't going to lose all the food you just ate.

You're curled up on yourself, your head resting on your knees as he sits down next to you.

“You okay?” He asks

“Sorry.” You mumble sadly into your knees

“For what?” Joel asks, “You're doing me a favor, getting me off that horse. My back is aching.”

“Sorry for being a glutton. I ate all my own food and then some of yours…” You groan, “I'm disgusting.”

“You're not a glutton.” Joel says, “Being hungry isn't a crime. Just gotta eat it slower. You're making yourself sick.”

You're silent for a moment, probably weighing your options as Joel runs his gloved hands through the snow. And then, in a voice so quiet it nearly missed it, you speak again,

“It's not my fault…”

Joel looks over at you, your head is back up, and you're focused on the threads of your jacket and the way they've begun to pull away from the seam.

“It's not my fault.” You say again, a bit louder again

“What's not your fault?” Joel asks, unsure of where this is going

“The doc at the clinic says it's…that it's because of the time I spent with them. It's because of them that I can't eat normally anymore.” You say sadly

“Spent time with who?” Joel asks

“Adam. And the others. Especially the leader, he was missing two teeth.” You say, staring at your hands

“Who's Adam?” Joel asks softly

He wants you to look at him, even just the smallest glance right now would bring him some peace of mind. This Adam, Joel wanted to know who he was, where he was, what he'd done.

All of a sudden, you're staring right at him, eyes glossed over with fear,

“No one.” You whisper “No one at all.”

May 2017

Loki had been dead for two weeks. Two weeks since you'd been tied to this tree, two weeks of no food and just stale water poured from the redhead's canteen in the middle of the night.

The redhead, Adam, pours you water each night after the others have passed out. He's supposed to be keeping watch, not making sure their newest toy is hydrated enough not to die.

“Slow down.” He says, the back of his hand on your head as he holds the canteen to your lips

When it's finally empty you look at him. He has blue eyes, something you hadn't taken note of before.

“You need to eat it. They won't give you anything else until you do.” He advises

Adam points at your feet where a small bag sits. You know what he's talking about. The leader, the one who reeks and is missing his two front teeth took special care to dry out a piece of your pet. Each day he'd demand you eat the jerky that was made from Loki.

“I can't.” You say

“They'll let you starve. I've seen it before with other girls.” Adam says, pulling a piece of the jerky out, “Just one bite, and I bet he'll give you deer tomorrow.”

“Why should I?” You hiss “Why should I bother eating? So I can be strong for whenever you want to use me? I'd rather starve than extend my time here with you.”

Adam looks at you, his face unreadable. You watch as he stands back up, backing away from you and your tree.

“Fine, starve then.”

Another week passes before he coaxes a bite of the jerky into your mouth. The leader sees this, and claps you on the back,

“What a good whore you're going to be.”

The next day, a small bowl of venison-filled soup is presented to you.

Adam spoons it into your mouth bite by bite cooing to you that you're doing so well.

When you've finished the bowl, you want to ask for more, but Adam has you standing up. Before you can protest or ask for more food, your pants have been ripped down to your ankles and Adam takes you against your tree.

Your hot tears begin to dribble down your face as you try to block out Adam's grunts.

The other men cheer when he finishes.

Warm cum drips down your legs as vomit pools in your throat, you lose the soup and the last bit of your dignity with it.

Your days are long. You spend most of them on your back or on your belly. The other men are content with this, just wanting the warmth of a woman here at the end of the world.

The worst of it though is whenever the leader, who you've dubbed the Walrus since no one ever says his name, puts you on all fours beneath him.

You quickly learn that the Walrus has a kink for pain. Or well, inflicting it. You don't get to see them, but each night Adam cleans your back and inner thighs, changing bandages and keeping the cuts from the Walrus’ knife clean.

The Walrus also takes delight in giving you what was basically toddler-sized portions of food. A couple of bits of jerky one day, followed by three small spoonfuls of beans the next. He laughs whenever he sees you watching the men eat. He'll say something about women not deserving more than what he's already giving you before walking off.

You swear that you're going to be nothing but a pile of bones as the days roll by.

At night, Adam feeds you more food. In exchange you let him pepper your skin with kisses. It turns out that if you pretend to like it, not only is he gentler when he puts himself inside, but he'll also bring you more food.

Some nights you're so full it feels like you'll burst. Adam gets what he wants, a fake lover, and you get what you want, a full belly.

Winter 2024

You're silent during the ride back into Jackson. You whisper something to Pepper and Joel finds himself asking if he can walk you home. Physically you're right next to him but mentally? Joel can tell you're not there, you're trapped in some memory, for your sake, he hopes it's a good one.

He walks you right up to your front porch and watches as you fumble with your keys. He says your name out loud for the first time in 20 years and you're snapping out of whatever trance you were in.

“I know you don't want to talk about us…but I…I don't want to be a stranger to you.” He says honestly

Joel can't lose you. He doesn't want to, not again. Fear be damned, he was going to keep you by his side this time.

“Can we…can we be friends?” He asks slowly

He can tell you're tossing it around your brain, thinking it over.

“Okay.” You say after a moment, “We can be friends.”

Next Part

I hope I was clear enough but:

For those that can't tell, basically in the current time the reader has a fear of food being withheld the way it was with Adam. The result is binge eating until she's sick from it. She basically views food as a safety blanket of sorts and is scared that it'll disappear if she doesn't consume it.

And yes, Joel's return into her life will slowly fix this issue.

Updates are going to be slower since I have finals coming. Hope you can bear with me and please pray I pass my math one. It's a core class and I need her to keep going in my major ❤️

Comment to be added to the tag list. This tag list is not chapter by chapter, I carry the tags over to each part.

Tags:

@lunaticgurly @orcasoul @snowlycanroc @freythecrazyfae

@person-005 @greenwitchfromthewoods

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #sarah miller #ellie williams #tommy miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel the last of us #tlou fanfiction #fanfic #joel tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #pedro pascal

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 months ago

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Dirty words are politically potent

On OCTOBER 23 at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.

Making up words is a perfectly cromulent passtime, and while most of the words we coin disappear as soon as they fall from our lips, every now and again, you find a word that fits so nice and kentucky in the public discourse that it acquires a life of its own:

http://meaningofliff.free.fr/definition.php3?word=Kentucky

I've been trying to increase the salience of digital human rights in the public imagination for a quarter of a century, starting with the campaign to get people to appreciate that the internet matters, and that tech policy isn't just the delusion that the governance of spaces where sad nerds argue about Star Trek is somehow relevant to human thriving:

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2010/10/04/small-change-malcolm-gladwell

Now, eventually people figured out that a) the internet mattered and, b) it was going dreadfully wrong. So my job changed again, from "how the internet is governed matters" to "you can't fix the internet with wishful thinking," for example, when people said we could solve its problems by banning general purpose computers:

https://memex.craphound.com/2012/01/10/lockdown-the-coming-war-on-general-purpose-computing/

Or by banning working cryptography:

https://memex.craphound.com/2018/09/04/oh-for-fucks-sake-not-this-fucking-bullshit-again-cryptography-edition/

Or by redesigning web browsers to treat their owners as threats:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2017/09/open-letter-w3c-director-ceo-team-and-membership

Or by using bots to filter every public utterance to ensure that they don't infringe copyright:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2018/09/today-europe-lost-internet-now-we-fight-back

Or by forcing platforms to surveil and police their users' speech (aka "getting rid of Section 230"):

https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/

Along the way, many of us have coined words in a bid to encapsulate the abstract, technical ideas at the core of these arguments. This isn't a vanity project! Creating a common vocabulary is a necessary precondition for having the substantive, vital debates we'll need to tackle the real, thorny issues raised by digital systems. So there's "free software," "open source," "filternet," "chat control," "back doors," and my own contributions, like "adversarial interoperability":

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

Or "Competitive Compatibility" ("comcom"), a less-intimidatingly technical term for the same thing:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/12/competitive-compatibility-year-review

These have all found their own niches, but nearly all of them are just that: niche. Some don't even rise to "niche": they're shibboleths, insider terms that confuse and intimidate normies and distract from the real fights with semantic ones, like whether it's "FOSS" or "FLOSS" or something else entirely:

https://opensource.stackexchange.com/questions/262/what-is-the-difference-between-foss-and-floss

But every now and again, you get a word that just kills. That brings me to "enshittification," a word I coined in 2022:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

"Enshittification" took root in my hindbrain, rolling around and around, agglomerating lots of different thoughts and critiques I'd been making for years, crystallizing them into a coherent thesis:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

This kind of spontaneous crystallization is the dividend of doing lots of work in public, trying to take every half-formed thought and pin it down in public writing, something I've been doing for decades:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

After those first couple articles, "enshittification" raced around the internet. There's two reasons for this: first, "enshittification" is a naughty word that's fun to say. Journalists love getting to put "shit" in their copy:

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/01/15/crosswords/linguistics-word-of-the-year.html

Radio journalists love to tweak the FCC with cheekily bleeped syllables in slightly dirty compound words:

https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/otm/projects/enshitification

And nothing enlivens an academic's day like getting to use a word like "enshittification" in a journal article (doubtless this also amuses the editors, peer-reviewers, copyeditors, typesetters, etc):

https://scholar.google.com/scholar?hl=en&as_sdt=0%2C5&q=enshittification&btnG=&oq=ensh

That was where I started, too! The first time I used "enshittification" was in a throwaway bad-tempered rant about the decay of Tripadvisor into utter uselessness, which drew a small chorus of appreciative chuckles about the word:

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1550457808222552065

The word rattled around my mind for five months before attaching itself to my detailed theory of platform decay. But it was that detailed critique, coupled with a minor license to swear, that gave "enshittification" a life of its own. How do I know that the theory was as important as the swearing? Because the small wave of amusement that followed my first use of "enshittification" petered out in less than a day. It was only when I added the theory that the word took hold.

Likewise: how do I know that the theory needed to be blended with swearing to break out of the esoteric realm of tech policy debates (which the public had roundly ignored for more than two decades)? Well, because I spent two decades writing about this stuff without making anything like the dents that appeared once I added an Anglo-Saxon monosyllable to that critique.

Adding "enshittification" to the critique got me more column inches, a longer hearing, a more vibrant debate, than anything else I'd tried. First, Wired availed itself of the Creative Commons license on my second long-form article on the subject and reprinted it as a 4,200-word feature. I've been writing for Wired for more than thirty years and this is by far the longest thing I've published with them – a big, roomy, discursive piece that was run verbatim, with every one of my cherished darlings unmurdered.

That gave the word – and the whole critique, with all its spiky corners – a global airing, leading to more pickup and discussion. Eventually, the American Dialect Society named it their "Word of the Year" (and their "Tech Word of the Year"):

https://americandialect.org/2023-word-of-the-year-is-enshittification/

"Enshittification" turns out to be catnip for language nerds:

https://becauselanguage.com/90-enpoopification/#transcript-60

I've been dragged into (good natured) fights over the German, Spanish, French and Italian translations for the term. When I taped an NPR show before a live audience with ASL interpretation, I got to watch a Deaf fan politely inform the interpreter that she didn't need to finger-spell "enshittification," because it had already been given an ASL sign by the US Deaf community:

https://maximumfun.org/episodes/go-fact-yourself/ep-158-aida-rodriguez-cory-doctorow/

I gave a speech about enshittification in Berlin and published the transcript:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

Which prompted the rock-ribbed Financial Times to get in touch with me and publish the speech – again, nearly verbatim – as a whopping 6,400 word feature in their weekend magazine:

https://www.ft.com/content/6fb1602d-a08b-4a8c-bac0-047b7d64aba5

Though they could have had it for free (just as Wired had), they insisted on paying me (very well, as it happens!), as did De Zeit:

https://www.zeit.de/digital/internet/2024-03/plattformen-facebook-google-internet-cory-doctorow

This was the start of the rise of enshittification. The word is spreading farther than ever, in ways that I have nothing to do with, along with the critique I hung on it. In other words, the bit of string that tech policy wonks have been pushing on for a quarter of a century is actually starting to move, and it's actually accelerating.

Despite this (or more likely because of it), there's a growing chorus of "concerned" people who say they like the critique but fret that it is being held back because you can't use it "at church or when talking to K-12 students" (my favorite variant: "I couldn't say this at a NATO conference"). I leave it up to you whether you use the word with your K-12 students, NATO generals, or fellow parishoners (though I assure you that all three groups are conversant with the dirty little word at the root of my coinage). If you don't want to use "enshittification," you can coin your own word – or just use one of the dozens of words that failed to gain public attention over the past 25 years (might I suggest "platform decay?").

What's so funny about all this pearl-clutching is that it comes from people who universally profess to have the intestinal fortitude to hear the word "enshittification" without experiencing psychological trauma, but worry that other people might not be so strong-minded. They continue to say this even as the most conservative officials in the most staid of exalted forums use the word without a hint of embarrassment, much less apology:

https://www.independent.ie/business/technology/chairman-of-irish-social-media-regulator-says-europe-should-not-be-seduced-by-mario-draghis-claims/a526530600.html

I mean, I'm giving a speech on enshittification next month at a conference where I'm opening for the Secretary General of the United Nations:

https://icanewdelhi2024.coop/welcome/pages/Programme

After spending half my life trying to get stuff like this into the discourse, I've developed some hard-won, informed views on how ideas succeed:

First: the minor obscenity is a feature, not a bug. The marriage of something long and serious to something short and funny is a happy one that makes both the word and the ideas better off than they'd be on their own. As Lenny Bruce wrote in his canonical work in the subject, the aptly named How to Talk Dirty and Influence People:

I want to help you if you have a dirty-word problem. There are none, and I'll spell it out logically to you.

Here is a toilet. Specifically-that's all we're concerned with, specifics-if I can tell you a dirty toilet joke, we must have a dirty toilet. That's what we're all talking about, a toilet. If we take this toilet and boil it and it's clean, I can never tell you specifically a dirty toilet joke about this toilet. I can tell you a dirty toilet joke in the Milner Hotel, or something like that, but this toilet is a clean toilet now. Obscenity is a human manifestation. This toilet has no central nervous system, no level of consciousness. It is not aware; it is a dumb toilet; it cannot be obscene; it's impossible. If it could be obscene, it could be cranky, it could be a Communist toilet, a traitorous toilet. It can do none of these things. This is a dirty toilet here.

Nobody can offend you by telling a dirty toilet story. They can offend you because it's trite; you've heard it many, many times.

https://www.dacapopress.com/titles/lenny-bruce/how-to-talk-dirty-and-influence-people/9780306825309/

Second: the fact that a neologism is sometimes decoupled from its theoretical underpinnings and is used colloquially is a feature, not a bug. Many people apply the term "enshittification" very loosely indeed, to mean "something that is bad," without bothering to learn – or apply – the theoretical framework. This is good. This is what it means for a term to enter the lexicon: it takes on a life of its own. If 10,000,000 people use "enshittification" loosely and inspire 10% of their number to look up the longer, more theoretical work I've done on it, that is one million normies who have been sucked into a discourse that used to live exclusively in the world of the most wonkish and obscure practitioners. The only way to maintain a precise, theoretically grounded use of a term is to confine its usage to a small group of largely irrelevant insiders. Policing the use of "enshittification" is worse than a self-limiting move – it would be a self-inflicted wound. As I said in that Berlin speech:

Enshittification names the problem and proposes a solution. It's not just a way to say 'things are getting worse' (though of course, it's fine with me if you want to use it that way. It's an English word. We don't have der Rat für englische Rechtschreibung. English is a free for all. Go nuts, meine Kerle).

Finally: "coinage" is both more – and less – than thinking of the word. After the American Dialect Society gave honors to "enshittification," a few people slid into my mentions with citations to "enshittification" that preceded my usage. I find this completely unsurprising, because English is such a slippery and playful tongue, because English speakers love to swear, and because infixing is such a fun way to swear (e.g. "unfuckingbelievable"). But of course, I hadn't encountered any of those other usages before I came up with the word independently, nor had any of those other usages spread appreciably beyond the speaker (it appears that each of the handful of predecessors to my usage represents an act of independent coinage).

If "coinage" was just a matter of thinking up the word, you could write a small python script that infixed the word "shit" into every syllable of every word in the OED, publish the resulting text file, and declare priority over all subsequent inventive swearers.

On the one hand, coinage takes place when the coiner a) independently invents a word; and b) creates the context for that word that causes it to escape from the coiner's immediate milieu and into the wider world.

But on the other hand – and far more importantly – the fact that a successful coinage requires popular uptake by people unknown to the coiner means that the coiner only ever plays a small role in the coinage. Yes, there would be no popularization without the coinage – but there would also be no coinage without the popularization. Words belong to groups of speakers, not individuals. Language is a cultural phenomenon, not an individual one.

Which is rather the point, isn't it? After a quarter of a century of being part of a community that fought tirelessly to get a serious and widespread consideration of tech policy underway, we're closer than ever, thanks, in part, to "enshittification." If someone else independently used that word before me, if some people use the word loosely, if the word makes some people uncomfortable, that's fine, provided that the word is doing what I want it to do, what I've devoted my life to doing.

The point of coining words isn't the pilkunnussija's obsession with precise usage, nor the petty glory of being known as a coiner, nor ensuring that NATO generals' virgin ears are protected from the word "shit" – a word that, incidentally, is also the root of "science":

https://www.arrantpedantry.com/2019/01/24/science-and-shit/

Isn't language fun?

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/14/pearl-clutching/#this-toilet-has-no-central-nervous-system

#pluralistic #language #enshittification #obscenity #linguistics #pearl-clutching #lenny bruce

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tabletopresources · 3 months ago

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Image credit "Fishing" By yonaz

So in last night's 3.5 edition D&D game, my players had a chance to do some ice fishing and one player called out for one of my ad hoc mini-games (I do this a lot haha). I wanted something simple, a combo of character skill and some luck, and so in short order ended up with this very quick mini-game you can easily employ.

Quick Disclaimer: These fishing mini-game mechanics may not be entirely original and could resemble systems from other games I just can't recall. For my part, I'm posting this FOR sharing. Feel free to use, adapt, or modify them in your own games as you see fit. No ownership or exclusivity is claimed over this idea—enjoy and share as you wish!

Fishing Mini-Game (D&D 3.5 Edition)

Step 1: Build the Fishing Pool

The player rolls a number of d6 equal to their relevant skill modifier (Survival or Profession (Fisher)).

Example: A character with a +10 in Survival rolls 10d6 and sets these dice aside as their "Fishing Pool".

Fishing Pool Example Roll: 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6.

Step 2: Perform the Fishing Check

The player then rolls 5d6 as their "Fishing Check" for one hour of fishing.

Example Roll: 1, 2, 4, 4, 6.

Step 3: Match for Combos

The player now attempts to match the dice results from their Fishing Pool with their Fishing Check results to form combos. The number of dice used in the combo determines the size of the fish:

Small Fish: Match 2 dice from the Fishing Pool with the Fishing Check.

Medium Fish: Match 3 dice from the Fishing Pool with the Fishing Check.

Large Fish: Match 5 dice from the Fishing Pool with the Fishing Check.

Example Combo:

If the player's Fishing Pool has dice showing 1, 2, 4, 4, and 6, they could match all 5 dice with their Fishing Check, catching a Large Fish.

Step 4: Fish Weight and Rations

Once the fish is caught, the total weight of the edible parts of the fish is determined by summing the values of the dice used in the combo.

Example: For a Large Fish (1, 2, 4, 4, 6), the total weight is 1+2+4+4+6 = 17 kg.

To calculate the number of rations provided by the fish:

1 kg = 2,000 calories (or half a ration).

Rations Formula: Divide the total weight of the fish by 2.

Example: 17 kg / 2 = 8.5 kg or 8 rations (we round down).

Step 5: Continue or Stop

After catching a fish, remove the dice used from the Fishing Pool.

If the player still has at least 2 dice left in their Fishing Pool, they can attempt to catch another fish using the same Fishing Check results. Otherwise, they are done for that hour.

That's all that we did and they loved it!

But since then we've considered how future games or others might expand on it with special roll combos, items, locations, setting conditions, Aid Other, etc. So here are some...

Optional Add-Ons and Considerations

Multiple Attempts Per Hour:

If the player rolls exceptionally well on their Fishing Pool, they may be able to attempt fishing multiple times in an hour. To keep this simple, I'd say if they are able to clear the first Pool entirely, they get a brand new roll, a whole new Pool as if starting fishing over, but they keep their previous catches.

Modifiers and Conditions:

You could introduce conditions that affect the Fishing Pool or Fishing Check rolls:

Good Fishing Spot: +1d6 to the Fishing Pool.

Bad Weather/Overfished Area: -1d6 (or more) to the Fishing Pool or disadvantage (see 5e, we use this idea quite a bit even in our 3.5e games) on Fishing Check rolls.

Magic/Luck Items: Grant rerolls or bonus dice to the Fishing Pool or allow rerolls of the Fishing Check.

Special Fish Combos:

Occasionally, you could allow rare or magical fish (or larger species) that provide bonuses or other effects; perhaps these are possible if the combos use specific die results:

Giant Fish: Requires a match of dice with identical values, but double the weight result (ex: a medium fish that used 5,5,5 would be a Giant of its type, and grant 15x2 or 30 kg of edible parts!).

Magical Fish: Grants temporary bonuses, like extra HP or special buffs, when consumed. (ex. A combo of sequential rising values, like 1,2,3,4,5, would grant a Magical Large fish)

Fishing Tools and Bait:

Fishing equipment or bait could modify the rolls:

Better Rods/Lines: Allow rerolls or add extra dice to the Fishing Pool.

Special Bait/Lures: Increases chances of catching better or more fish (ex. set any one die result to 6; or allow player to select the value of any one die, etc.).

Aid Other

Another player can choose to assist Player A if they are proficient in the same associated skill (Survival or Profession (Fisher), etc based on your setting):

Player B (helper) rolls for the associated skill.

If the result of their skill check (rolled like any other skill check) is 10-19, Player A gains 1 extra die in their fishing Pool.

If the result of their skill check is 20 or higher, Player A gains 2 extra dice in their fishing Pool.

Player A can then use these extra dice to help form better combos when matching against their Fishing Check.

Let me know if you use this mini-game in your D&D sessions, or revamp it for the tabletop rpg/edition you play!

I'd love to hear your stories of the biggest catch, or lamenting that one LEGENDARY CATCH that got away!

And check out Tabletop Gaming Resources for more art, tips, and tools for your game!

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redphlox · 6 months ago

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Shouto's ruined character arc in the epilogue

Edit December 2024: my opinion about Shouto's ending has changed after 431 was publised when vol 42 came out on Dec 4, 2024. I'll have to rewrite this. But still, my stance that ending was riddled with toxic positivity and hollowness still hands

The epilogue’s toxicity-positivity message about smiling ruined Shouto’s characterization and undoes the growth and purpose of his arc because he’s not allowed to mourn the imminent death of his brother Touya.

Shouto partaking in these tone-deaf, festive activities with his friends in chapter 429 feels out of character, feels cheap and shallow, and is a slap in the face to his family. In the past Shouto declined school-related activities and prioritized spending time with his mom at the hospital. Now the narrative is trying to sell the idea that he would NOT spend every remaining minute alongside his family with his dying brother, who he has always wanted to know, the brother he practically begged to confront and said, "Our paths will cross whether you want them to or not" to. Shouto spent all this manga reconciling his feelings about his family and reconnecting to them to just... not be with them when they’re about to experience loss AGAIN?

I'm not saying I want Shouto to be miserable, but realistically (since readers are so obsessed with realism in this superhero manga), he wouldn’t be wasting the limited time he has left with his brother by going to a farewell party, or any party. Damn, can the author let him mourn? Despite all the celebration the kids are doing, Shouto didn’t get a happy ending. While the rest of their community is rebuilding and making sense of what happened, the Todoroki family is still going through their crisis. It’s not over for them. At least let them cry.

This is a regression for Shouto’s character because the concept of allowing heroes to cry was first presented through Shouto, literally through his own words. The narrative then picks up this concept again during Ochako's speech at the UA shelter civilians, and then... Shouto isn't allowed to cry in the epilogue, and is forced to fake a smile so his friends don’t worry about him.

It’s not like Shouto has cried in this manga. He cried during the sports festival, during the Dabi reveal, and after Dabi escaped to Gunga to go after Endeavor because he knew this meant he had failed to reach his brother -- so no, it doesn’t make sense that he wouldn’t cry now. Instead, he's the one fake smiling, and only Ochako is allowed to be shown crying and being comforted. The double standard and retcon is astounding.

You can literally see the light not reaching his eyes in this panel from 425 when Deku asks if he’s okay. And yes, Shouto is prioritizing his family in this panel, but like I said, Touya doesn't have much time left... why waste it?

Shouto doesn’t want anyone to worry about him, so he’s putting on a brave face. And yet Deku and the other classmates reaching out to Ochako in 429 is selling the opposite message - don’t cry alone, let us be here for you, etc. Why isn’t Shouto granted the same support, especially from these classmates he claims are there for him?

If Horikoshi was aiming for a happy ending where people smile, then Touya’s grimdark, cruel, second and final death doesn't fit because Shouto has to mourn. You can't have both fake smiling and off-screen assumed mourning… it makes no sense for Shouto’s arc, or for the epilogue’s message about reaching out for help or to help. It doesn’t make sense in any context.

Shouto's characterization feels so off in this epilogue. He’s a shell of the person he was becoming. The story starts out by saying that this character is supposed to process the trauma of childhood and a dysfunctional family that he always wished was different, but now he has his found family in his classmates instead. And I'm not saying he can't have both - I'd say the support from his friends is imperative - but, it doesn't make sense that he has seemingly moved on because the fact is, his family situation was his entire start.

It's not just Shouto that feels off, but his family too. Their once-considered-dead brother/son is alive, but now is dying in front of their eyes for real this time and they just… don’t try to spend as much time with him as possible? Even the sentiment that Shouto gave the family more time to talk falls empty because Touya can only endure a few minutes of conversation at a time, and it’s not like he’s slowly improving and that time will increase. It will only decrease. And yet, the family doesn’t seem too concerned or heartbroken that they’re witnessing someone they love die a second time, this time slowly. He can’t even communicate with them, and he’ll most likely have many things left unsaid when he dies.

The Todoroki family plot was set up to be about reconciliation, but they’re not reconnecting even with Touya’s upcoming death. This scene of Touya and the other siblings kicking a ball while Shoto looked on from the second story of the house begging his father to allow him to play with his siblings has been addressed like four times, and yet in the end he doesn’t get to spend happy moments with his siblings. His reward for his heroism is Touya’s slow march toward death and the knowledge that he has the same favorite food as the brother who his father neglected to death twice.

Instead of being shown mourning or connecting, the family is acting cold and distant - only Natsuo is acting with a semblance of his normal self. I know some readers attribute the family’s aloofness to Japanese culture not being very affectionate or open with their emotions, but that doesn’t mean Japanese people are devoid of feelings. That’s so fucking racist. We’ve seen parents express love and concern for their children in this manga, and yet the Todoroki family continues to say “we’ll talk, we’ll talk” but we’ve never seen any follow-up. It’s ironic because Shouto’s whole mentality is “actions speak louder than words”.

For a family that became unstable because of misunderstandings about feeling loved and wanted, the family continues to feel devoid of caring. No one comforts Shouto, no one talks about how they feel except for Endeavor. Shouto isn’t allowed to grieve in front of his friends because Ochako takes priority because the narrative is pushing this toxic positivity message about smiling that works on the surface but fails to address any systemic changes.

This ending doesn't fit the hopeful tone of Shouto's arc.

RIP Shouto’s arc. We loved you.

#bnha #bnha critical #bnha 429 #shouto #shouto todoroki #todoroki #todoroki family

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urprettylittlething · 1 year ago

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In The Shadows

Purge Alternate Universe

Yandere - Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - Okayyyy I've been working on this for like a week and it's the longest I've ever written for one thing, I had a shoulder injury which is mostly healed up now during the week which hindered my progress a little because I originally really wanted this to get out nearer Halloween time, but oh well TT at least its here now right? Lmao, but I hope you guys enjoy it, I tried my best and lowkey kind of hate it, I wished I could've done more or something, but if you have any ideas around this for a possible part 2 let me knoww, although no promises ;) Consider this a massive thank you story, I now have over 100 followers and the likes and reblogs and comments, you guys, I'm crying, I love you all so much <333333 I love interacting with you guys and your comments on my stories or in my inbox <3333 you all make my day ilysm <3 :( AND IM SORRY I COULDNT HELP IT, they're kind of really mean so its more harsh yandere than the soft you all wanted :( I couldn't help myself its a purge AU TT, but I promise ill make something softer in the future <33 sorry this is so long omfg, but let me know your thoughts pretty please <3 and if you actually read all of this ily

summary - Another purge night is here and you think your safe and sound, but let your guard down and you'll find yourself bound.

warnings - purge, mentions of 'off screen' murder, actual 'off screen' murder, kind of gore but reader doesn't see it, blood, rope, reader gets tied up, gags?, tape over readers mouth, they're actually kind of really mean lol, especially Geto, descriptions of panic, anxiety, overthinking, stalker situation kind of, swearing, crying, brief hair pulling, if there's any more let me know ml <3

genre - Oneshot

wc - 7.2k

~spelling and grammar fixed already~

Edit - the top photo 6/11/23

The tip tapping of fingers on keys echoed around the silent room. The occasional footfalls of people around her walking up and down. Picking up books to further aid their studying would slip past the music playing in her ears when they were loud enough.

Every time she would hear someone being a little too loud for the library they were in she would glance up and shoot a half-hearted glare their way.

They’d never see her but it was the thought that counted. A barely audible sigh escapes her as she brings a hand up to massage her cold fingertips into the throbbing skin at her temple.

Nervous nibbling was occupying her teeth and lips, chewing away the flesh and creating tender spots her tongue would soon soothe.

She’d been staring at the same empty document for two hours now. No more than two sentences she was able to come up with before she’d erase them in a fit of frustration.

Abandoned textbooks lay closed behind her laptop, she’d deemed them no use around thirty minutes in, but she couldn't bring herself to get up and search for better ones.

She was antsy, not able to focus on her assignment due in a week's time. Her brain was all fogged up, too many thoughts going through her mind and yet she's not able to focus on a single one.

The purge was tonight. March 21st. And it was currently 1pm.

Why did she even bother to come to the library in the first place? Was she hoping to distract herself even just a little bit before she had to hunker herself down in her dorm for twelve hours?

Maybe. Yes.

Was it working? Absolutely not.

She was too skittish. Overthinking everything that had the potential of happening later and things that have previously happened.

‘Someone's not going to come and try to kill me just because I forgot to return their pen that one time, right?’

The amusing, albeit a little dark, thought did make the corner of her lips twitch just the smallest amount.

Taking off her headphones after stopping her music, she closes down her laptop and starts to move it into her bag.

She spares a quick glance around the few tables next to hers as she stands with the library's books in her arms. Her eyes locked with a man sitting roughly two tables down. Slumped back in his seat.

Gojo Satoru. Bright white and fluffy hair paired with a set of dazzling blue eyes. The ones currently peeking over the tops of his round shades that had slid down his nose as he tucked his head down slightly.

Sitting in front of him and abstracting her view of Gojo only slightly is who she assumed was Geto Suguru. Two peas in a pod and never seen without the other. The long black and silky strands of hair tied up in a half up bun was a giveaway to who he was as well.

Both of them were originally from Tokyo, Japan. Coming over to America over five years ago. Or at least that's what she’s heard from around the place, not knowing them personally. They were the most popular boys in school when she had joined a little over a year ago and they still held the title strong.

She doesn’t think she's ever really interacted with them. At Least not on any kind of personal level. Sure, maybe from a few friends of friends or passing each other in the hallway and being polite to her upperclassmen, but nothing all that memorable.

Which is why this prolonged eye contact is sending a very noticeable shiver down her spine. The smallest twitch of a smirk on his face and she was breaking eye contact, gulping down the pooled saliva in her mouth as she turned around and hastily made her way in between the towering bookshelves.

Leaving the library after stacking the books she’d previously taken back on the shelves, she hastily makes her way down the long corridors. Keeping her head down, her hands clutched tight on the strap of her bag. She passes very few people in the hallway.

Even after pushing through the doors and trekking her way to the dorms at the end of the path, there were very few people loitering around outside. Some of the people she passed looked like they could be stoned, not that she could really blame them. Some looked a little too relaxed and happy and some were just trying to get to their destination as quickly as possible. Like her.

As the doors came into view, and then the stairs, she slowly began to relax, her fast pace lessening up. Successfully getting to the safest place she could for when the purge would start.

It was also a massive relief that her two good friends would be staying with her during the twelve hours of horror. Last time she was by herself there had been multiple scares throughout the night. Nothing too big but something she didn’t think she could handle alone again.

Reaching her door on the third floor she fiddles with her keys for a few seconds before her door clicks open and she pushes her way inside. Closing the door and locking it again for good measure.

It was 1:43 pm.

A few minutes after she had arrived back at her dorm did she realize she still needed to pick up some food items. Being a broke student meant she had essentially nothing in her cupboards or her fridge. And if she was ‘hosting for the purge’ this year, it meant she had to stock up at least a little bit.

‘Imagine trying to hide from a killer and your stomach growls, I think I would just die on the spot.’ She thinks, the smallest smile gracing her face. Humour is usually her way to cope in situations like these. It’s either that or panicking and she’d rather try to save that for the main event.

With a heavy sigh and hesitation weighing her limbs down, she slowly puts her shoes and jacket back on. She can make this quick. In and out. Easy peasy.

With a quick jump while shaking her limbs out to get rid of her last minute hesitation, she quickly opens her door and steps out before shutting it behind her. No going back now. Locking the door behind her, she starts making her way back down the stairs and out the doors, walking in the direction of the food store.

Her nerves were still playing up though, eyes darting this way and that as if trying to find a reason for her to panic. ‘It’s okay, the purge hasn’t started yet, all those things are still illegal.’ Is what she keeps telling herself while taking a deep breath. But the fact they won’t be in a few hours was still cause for some panic.

Arriving at the store, she wizzes around, collecting any good looking snack and throwing it in her basket before hastily paying and leaving. The heavy plastic carrier bag hanging from her fingers gave her reason to think she went a bit overboard.

Her quickened steps and accelerated breathing were all she could hear for a while. Her walk back to her dorm was supposed to be a quiet one, less and less people were loitering around meaning less and less noises to distract her.

Especially from the new set of footsteps that have appeared behind her.

As soon as her mind clocked the extra set of footsteps there, it went into overdrive. ‘Who is that? Are they following me? No, you're being delusional, they're just trying to get back home. But are they? They just appeared out of nowhere. Are they going to try and kidnap me? Rape me? Stuff me in a van? Drag me down a dark alleyway and murder me?’

Her mind was racing, steps quickening and breathing silenced under the new threat. ‘Oh god, what if they’re stalking me? Waiting until the purge starts to come and slaughter me? They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me. What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?’

And then they were gone.

It barely registered in her mind that the fast paced footsteps from behind her had vanished. A sharp breath escaped her before her head whipped around on a desperate whim. No one. Not a soul on the path behind her.

Her shoulders sank with relief and a watery laugh broke free from her trembling lips. ‘I’m losing my mind.’ She thought. Even though that feeling in her gut had faded, it never fully disappeared. Her racing heart never slowed and neither did her footsteps.

Y/n hurried back to her dorm, almost running through the doors and up the stairs to fumble with her keys and quickly burst in. Double checking she locked the door behind her, and then checking every other lock on her third story apartment. Only when she had made sure they were all secure could she finally relax.

Her body shivering and hands shaking from the after effects of adrenaline. Her breathing is still a little shaky as she pulls a bunch of pillows and blankets into her tiny living room. Pushing her chair and sofa away to make more space as she lays everything out as neat as she could, making the floor a comfy space for her and her two friends to crash for the purge.

She empties the snacks from out of the plastic bag and piles them in a nice little corner near the TV. A small stack of movies there for when they’re all waiting for the purge to start. Some cards in a pack were also placed there.

The three of them are wanting to be as quiet as possible while the purge is going on. Everything locked, curtains drawn, lights off, TV with no volume and only subtitles, quiet games to play in case they got bored, etc.

They weren’t taking any chances. It was doubtful anything would happen, since nothing really ever did in the dorms. No student here would go as far as murdering somebody, everyone mostly stayed inside, not wanting to risk anything. She only knew of a few people that have snuck out before to rob a few stores, or do some petty revenge like smashing someone's car without getting into trouble.

But overall, it was best to remain quiet. They didn’t want to get murdered because the TV was turned up too loudly and attracted some wrong attention.

It was 5:15 pm.

This is the time her friends arrived. Knocking some made up code on the slab of wood before messaging just for good measure that it was really them outside.

After unlocking the door and letting her two good friends inside her dorm she swiftly closes and locks it again. Relieved greetings transpire as well as nervous whispers about the purge and some small gossip of who they think would actually go out this year and who are likely to stay inside.

The three of them start to make their way around her dorm, closing all the curtains and double checking the locks on all the windows and doors. Especially the balcony and front door.

After they’ve secured the apartment, they turn off all the necessary lights, flicking on a few electrical lanterns and setting them up around the living room, but away from the windows. They’ve left one lantern in the bathroom and one in her bedroom, both turned off, just in case of emergencies.

The three of them settle in a spread out pile on the blankets she put down in the living room. Some snacks are passed around already and a movie is slotted into the TV, playing as background noise mostly while they talk.

Erica, a sassy but kind of dumb girl, with choppy shoulder length hair that had been bleached and dyed a light green. She's donned in a crop top and sweatpants, comfy.

Don, a friendly giant, very kind in nature but also a little muscly. He has short black hair and a sculpted jawline. He also came in sweatpants and a baggy white T-shirt, also comfy.

Her two very good, and only, friends here. They’re in a few of her classes and all regularly hang out together.

“So,” Erica begins after her mouthful of powdered donut. “Who do you think is going to actually purge tonight? Like, actually actually. My moneys on them two hotties in my class.” She finishes, wiggling her eyebrows..

Don hums around his half empty soda can. “Yeah, honestly I wouldn't be surprised if they did.”

Y/n pipes up, “Wait who?” sitting up against the sofa behind her, getting comfy like she's about to hear the gossip of a lifetime.

“Oh, Em, G! You haven’t heard of it? You’ve seriously been, like, living under a rock or something.” Erica says jokingly. Picking apart pieces of her donut and eating them.

Don perks up too. “Really? You haven't?” Y/n shakes her head in denial as Don shrugs. “I get it, it’s mostly stayed in our class, hasn’t spread much further than that.” He says before crawling forward and rummaging around for more snacks.

“So get a load of this right!” Erica sits up too after finishing her donut. Waving her hands excitedly as she tells her latest gossip. “You know them two really hot upperclassmen right?” She draws out her ‘really’ and waits patiently at the end of her sentence for the other girl's confirmation.

When she nods in slight confusion, Erica continues, “There were some major rumours in class that the two of them were late this one day because they were beating someone up. And I don't mean like a few slaps or hair pulling, I mean punches. You know?”

Y/n nods again, this time with furrowed brows and Erica continues, “At first, I didn’t believe it, obviously. But then, the two of them came into class and I swear there were blood stains on their clothes. Blood stains! Not to mention all the plasters and bandages all over their hands! I just had to believe it then! Wouldn’t you?”

After the end of her long rant she slumps back against the front of the sofa and mumbles incoherently to herself shaking her head while pouting.

Don, who had been listening silently, pipes up, “It was true, I was actually there for once.”

Y/n’s eyebrows raise in disbelief at what she had just heard. Fighting, here? She couldn’t help but to doubt it, if only just a little. Stuff like that has never happened here. Or at least while she had been here. It was just unheard of.

And for an attack so vicious to result in blood being drawn, then there must have been somewhat of a good reason for it. That was the conclusion she came to.

“I mean, there had to have been a good reason for it.” Y/n says, “They’re pretty nice people aren't they? It is Gojo and Geto were talking about here, right? They’re really popular here too.” Her eyes darted between her two friends, looking for more answers on this unexpected juicy gossip.

Erica sighs wistfully, “No, it got shut down pretty quick, which I guess is why so little people have heard about it. God, would I pay to see them fight though. Their muscles must have looked amazing.”

They stop talking about it after that, Don getting distracted by the snacks and whining about how she didn’t get his favourite. Erica smacking him with a few pillows and complaining how he’s getting in the way of her movie she was barely even watching.

Their playful banter did little to distract from her inner turmoil. A small shiver went down her spine again. The memory from earlier in the library resurfacing in her mind. Gojo staring her down, the creepy walk back from the shops and now learning the two had at the very least helped in injuring someone.

It could just be because it was purge day, but everything was beginning to creep her out and she was overthinking again. ‘What if he wants to attack me next? What if all of those things were connected and someone really was following me home? What if he wants to kill me? What if both of them want to kill me? Have I ever done anything to offend them? I haven’t, have I?’ She knew these were far fetched and ridiculous, but she couldn’t help but think of them anyway.

Her spiralling thoughts were halted when a stray pillow smacked her in the face. “Oops, haha, sorry.” Erica sheepishly apologized, bringing her hand up to smooth down Y/n’s ruffled hair. Don was laughing in the background.

Y/n was stunned for a few seconds before replying, “Oh, don’t worry. How about we put something else on? This movie is kind of boring.” crawling across the piles of pillows and blankets to reach the stack of movies.

This caught the other two’s attention, eagerly rushing to the stack as well to try and get first pick. Arguing for a few more minutes before settling on a movie they all loved. Snuggling back into their original positions.

This was how the next few hours went before the announcement appeared.

It was 6:59 pm.

At exactly 7 on the dot, the TV went black before turning blue, the government announcing the commencement of the purge. Big bold letters and ‘Emergency Broadcast System’ and ‘This is not a test’ were displayed on the screen.

They were all quiet as it played out. The mood quickly turned sombre.

“Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.”

Don gulped.

“Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.”

Erica huffed.

“Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.”

Y/n shivered.

“Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 am when The Purge concludes.”

She released a shaky breath. The announcement ends with “...A nation reborn.” before stopping. The screen turned black again.

No one moves or says anything. Each of them were frozen in an array of emotions. Fear being the most prominent.

The silence stretched on for minutes. Eerie in its wake, not even being able to hear other people in their dorm rooms like she normally would.

Eventually, after releasing another shaky breath and rearranging herself with trembling limbs, they all snap back into the present.

Don coughs and Erica shuffles awkwardly.

“Cards, anyone?” Y/n meekly speaks up. The other two nod as they sit in a small circle.

It was 7:36 pm.

This was when the first explosion of some kind was heard by them. Each of them froze in the middle of playing their mostly silent game of cards. The noise was distant, but the impact remained.

A scream from a few doors down echoed in the silent space.

They waited with baited breath for any follow up, but when nothing happened, they slowly relaxed. Each of them assumed it was the explosion that must have scared someone. Sometimes it’s better to think of the positive, rather than what that scream could have been for.

A few minutes later a siren bellows in the distance, a few car alarms wail.

Nothing too bad, but knowing that it could mean someone was being murdered out there didn’t give them any ease.

It was 8:02 pm.

This is when the banging starts. Y/n thinks it could be a few doors down again. Erica thinks it’s below them and Don thinks it’s above them.

Wherever it was, it was concerning.

Erica releases a small nervous chuckle. “Maybe someone is just having a good time?” A fake smile plastered on her face to try and mask her worry. Even she didn’t believe her little theory. Not during a time like this, during The Purge.

It was a few minutes later, after they had quietly resumed their game, that footsteps were heard.

Clacking down the hallway.

1, 2.

They were walking at a leisurely pace. Taking their time. Strolling down the hallway and getting closer and closer.

All three of them looked towards the door, as if someone were to burst in at any moment.

The footsteps slow before coming to a stop. Right outside her door.

The three of them hold their breath, bodies flinching when a light knock rings out into the open space.

Complete silence.

Another knock.

None of them had even noticed the earlier noises had stopped, too focused on the potential threat now right outside the door. Seemingly wanting someone to open up.

Three pairs of eyes dart between each other. Silent questions trying to push their way out without being heard. A few panicked half shrugs and furrowed brows with downturned lips later, another knock rings out.

This time it was a little louder.

Barely audible whisperings of ‘you go’, ‘no you’, ‘fuck no’, ‘who even is it?’ cut through the silence. No one wanted to ask the question. To even speak a hint of it lest it result in it coming true.

Eventually after a solid minute of panicked, almost silent, squabbling later. A frustrated and frightened Erica pushed herself up. Taking a very obvious deep breath. Eyes closed and silently mumbling to herself before taking a few steps over to the front door.

She tried to be as quiet as she could but each step sounded like it weighed a ton. Every creek and every wobble made to sound the loudest.

Very quietly bracing her hands upon the door, she leant up on her tiptoes. Peeking into the peephole positioned in the centre of the door.

The two left in the pile of blankets still. Not wanting to even breathe in fear of disturbing whatever was happening in front of them.

A sudden screech of pure panic and fear tore from Erica’s throat. Flailing before landing with a harsh thud on the floor beneath her. Scrambling backwards on her hands and feet, keeping her eyes on the door the entire time.

The two startle and immediately jump up, laboured breathing hindering their lungs from the sudden scare.

“What the fuck? Erica what happened? What was that?” Don frantically whispered. His eyes were also locked on the door.

Y/n also whispered to her, “Who was that? Erica?” her eyes locked onto her friend, not able to bring herself to look at the door yet.

“It was.. Oh god.. The peep..” Erica wheezed out. The fright took too much out of her with her frantic gasps for air.

A sudden bang echoed into the room. A few more followed before they all realized it was coming from the front door.

Erica screeched and threw herself back into a standing position, rushing for the kitchen and grabbing any sharp knife her eyes first laid on.

Don stood frozen in fear. Not able to move or barely breathe from the looks of it.

Y/n wasn’t any better herself. Downright terrified. This was her dorm. Her dorm. Which means whoever was outside, was looking for her.

The banging persisted, the person on the other side seemingly determined to get in. This proved correct when the handle started turning whichever way it could.

She didn’t even realize, terror clouding her senses because when she looked back to her two friends, Don had collapsed into himself, wheezing with little air entering his lungs amidst his panic. Erica was cornered in the kitchen, sobbing, tears flooding her cheeks and ruining her mascara she had in place.

The persistent banging stopped for a second. The faint sound of another pair of footsteps approached from the hallway outside. Muffled talking pursued but it was hard to make anything out, between her pounding heart, Erica’s sobs and the slab of wood in the way, didn’t make for easy hearing.

For Y/n, it seemed there was one second of complete silence. No sobbing, no voices, no distant alarms or explosions, no racing heart, no wheezing lungs. Before chaos sprung onto them.

Suddenly the people outside, because there was another person now, resumed banging on the door. But it didn’t seem like they were ‘just knocking’ anymore. No.

They were trying to break the door down.

She could see it from the way the door groaned and creaked under the relentless kicking. She couldn't quite tell if they were using their feet, or an object, or whatever.

All that mattered was that they were trying to get in. And they were going to succeed.

“Move! Hide! We need to hide!” She whisper-yelled. Rushing to Don and tugging on his arm to try and get him to move. He stared at her for a few seconds before his brain caught up, registering what was happening around him. The real danger he was in right now.

“Hide.. Oh god..” He panted, sprinting for the bathroom, the first place his eyes had landed on.

With Don now searching for a place to hide, she ran her way to Erica. Still trying to be as quiet as she could, in the little hopes that they would think she wasn’t here.

“Erica, we need to hide! They’re getting in!” She frantically whispered to her hyperventilating friend. Trying to shake her shoulders, even resorting to lightly slapping her face to try and get her attention. She was desperate.

“Please!” The sound of splintering caught both of their attention. Heads whipping towards the door starting to cave. She wasn’t all that surprised, that slab of wood was a shitty excuse for a door anyway.

Erica suddenly sprung up and dove for the piles of blankets in the living room. Trying to bury herself amongst them, taking the knife with her.

And now that all her friends had been taken care of, she ran for her bedroom. Trying her best not to stumble and fall in the dark hallway.

As soon as her door came into sight, she gently opened it, gunning for her wardrobe tucked into the corner of the room. Not even looking towards the turned off lantern, she didn’t need them knowing her hiding spot from something so obvious.

It was already messy anyway, so in her frazzled brain she didn’t bother caring where she tossed piles of clothes and shoes in her room.. They’d hopefully think it was like that in the first place.

After quickly clearing a space big enough for her to curl into, she did just that. Situating herself just right, back pressed against the side of the wardrobe, knees tucked to her chest and pressed against the boxes in front of her. She was sitting on old shirts she hadn’t seen for months.

Hearing the door breaking even further, she grabbed any clothes within her reach and threw them over herself. Shutting the door when she was mostly covered, she could have sworn she could hear laughter coming from the hallway.

A loud crash and splintering tore through the air. She knew it was her front door. And now they were inside.

Her hands slowly went up to cup around her mouth, trying to muffle her breathing as much as she could. Her body froze. Even when she already began to feel muscle cramps settling in, she dared not move. She forced herself to breathe slowly. Every inhale a struggle along with a reminder that she was still alive at this very moment. Even if she was convinced she wouldn’t be for much longer.

The thought brought tears to her eyes. The original shock wears from her body and settles into something akin to despair.

Her throat started clamping up, muscles seizing and throbbing with the need to cry.

It was the thudding of footsteps that shook her out of it. Snapping her half way back into a nightmarish reality.

She gulped. Closing her eyes and straining her ears for any information they were willing to receive.

Just as she thought. Two pairs of footsteps.

With every thud of a shoe or a spike in their muffled talking, her body would tremble.

It remained like this for a few more minutes. The footsteps or talking occasionally pausing.

It was during one of these silences, where a different sound was heard. She couldn’t identify the exact sounds, just ones of commotion. They were still all muffled. And then she heard muffled yelling.

It sounded so dulled, between the walls and layers of wood and clothes, she could barely make out anything, her ears straining for any hint as to what was happening. Being left in the dark like this, literally and figuratively, was terrifying her.

And then this horrible, awful noise carried its way between the cracks in the wardrobe. Crunching. Cracking. Stomps.

That muffled yelling from before kept getting cut off. Eventually dwindling down into a barely audible groan. Those thuds never seemed to stop either. Never ending, crunching, cracking, and now wet thuds.

Her brain was trying its hardest to process, to catch up with the information that it has been provided with.

More footsteps, only one pair, accompanied with muffled laughter. And a more distinct sound traveling through the air.

A scream.

Even more laughter, hurried footsteps and pleas of ‘no’, ‘please’, ‘don’ts’.

It was now, with the wet stomps still in the background, her screeching friend, that eager laugh, that her brain had finally caught up.

She was going to be sick.

They’re hurting them. Killing them.

Her friends.

Her body moved out of its own violation. Shaky hands and feet kicking and pushing their way out of the pile of clothes. Wardrobe door swinging open with a creak.

She collapsed out of it. Slumped on the floor, dry heaving. Her lungs not seeming to take enough air in but yet holding in too much. She couldn’t function. Fear overwhelmed every part of her. As well as grief.

Her ears were ringing and she was left gasping, drool dripping onto the hard floor beneath her as a result of her attempted vomiting. Eyes wide open, blurry when she tapped back into her mind.

Tears, clouding her vision and dripping audibly on the floorboards below her.

In the distance she could hear muffled talking. Two men, she could make out more clearly. Not only that, but squelching, wet, gooey noises seemed to mingle in the air. Gurgling was the next before silence.

A minute passed, maybe two before the footsteps started up again. Those goddamn footsteps.

1.. 2.

But they were slower than before. Steady. Taking their time.

And getting closer.

Her instincts kick in, blinking profusely to try and clear her eyes from the tears, looking up and darting around before landing on the space under her bed.

She wouldn’t have enough time to fix her spot back in the wardrobe. She couldn’t run past them, not even in her best state which she certainly wasn’t in right now. She had considered her bedroom window as an option, but it was locked, which would take time to open. Not even mentioning the fact she was on the third floor, so jumping out would break at least something important. They would be quick to notice as well, and if they came for her, it was likely they would decide to chase her down.

Under her bed seemed to be her best option at the moment, and she was running out of time. Scrambling as quietly as she could, she slid herself directly under her bed, trying to center herself in the middle of it, tucking herself into a tight ball.

The footsteps stopped right outside her bedroom door, she had enough sense to shut it on her way in, thank god. But that clearly wouldn’t be enough to stop them.

Almost as if the person was teasing her, they slowly clicked the door open. The distinct creak she had grown accustomed to over the months making itself known.

Her muscles are tense, tightening in the presence of her predators.

In the dark space from under her bed and in her room, it was obvious when the light from inside the hallway started spilling in the more the door got pushed open. In the vague depths of her mind it registered that they must’ve either turned the hall lights on, had taken one of her lanterns, or were carrying one of their own.

Her lungs were burning with the effort to keep her body running with the little air she was allowing them to have, all for the sake of trying to keep quiet.

It was all too silent once again, only for a second or two before the second pair of footsteps came towards her. A lot more hasty compared to the other ones.

Her breath silently hitched, the new person pushed their way into the room, stepping past their company before a thunk was heard. The sound forced her body to startle, jolting her muscles and kick starting her trembling again. An uncontrollable reaction to the fear she was under, the unrelenting motions causing a deep ache in her ribs.

The sound of rustling was now heard. It seemed they were looking for something. ‘They’re going to kill me. They’re digging around for a weapon to stab me with, to bash my head in, to murder me like they did my friends. I’m dead. I’m dead, I’mdeadI’mdeadI’mdead-’

Her racing thoughts consuming her fear riddled mind failed in picking up the sound of the other pair of footsteps slowly creeping round to the end of her bed.

The person paused, silently crouching down low before a pair of hands reached under.

The sudden tight grip on her ankles followed up by the sudden pull had her screeching. Pure terror flooding her veins. She had been yanked out from under her bed, lying sprawled on the floor and gazing up at the towering man stationed above her.

Her lungs burned, seizing up before a sickening scream escaped her. Fuelled by genuine, unrestrained horror.

They had found her.

One of her lanterns they had brought in illuminated his face in a haunting light. The darkened shadows stretching and contorting behind him to create the most grim image for her mind to paint. Not that it was far off.

A foot standing on either side of her hips, straddling her if it wasn’t for his standing position. Hands nestled comfortably back in his trouser pockets now they had done the job of retrieving her. A comfortable looking long-sleeved shirt adorned his figure. Dark splatters starting from the bottom of his shoes and creeping their way up his legs, tapering off into a few spots that painted one of his cheeks.

An easy smile softly ingrained on his face, followed by gentle looking eyes peering down at her if it wasn’t for the malicious spiral she found herself paralyzed in. Dark locks of hair extended down his back, past where she could see from her position, with the top layers sectioned off and tied back into a bun.

His mouth opened and he spoke. “Well, well. Look what I’ve caught for us Satoru.”

Satoru. The other man must be Satoru Gojo, and this was Suguru. Suguru Geto. The most popular guys she knew, the supposedly kindest. And then staring in the library, the walk back from the shops, the gossip her most likely dead friend had told her.

Her body suddenly felt like it was pumped full of adrenaline. Pushing herself up as fast as she could, using the bed as support all the while stumbling over her numb riddled legs. She took off, running towards the open door she so desperately wanted to pass through.

A sudden arm snatched her from around her waist and she screeched. Pure instinct driving her at this point as she scratched and kicked and flailed in his, Satoru Gojo’s, hold.

The sound of something dropping before his other arm came round, collecting both her wrists in one hand of his. His grip tightened the more she fought. Her body pressed tight against his, her back to his front. His head situated itself on her shoulder, tucking over and pressing his cheek to hers even while she cried and panted and kicked.

She could feel his grin pressing against the side of her face. “Such a pretty little thing we have here. Can’t let her get away so easily now, can we? Not after all the trouble we’ve gone through.” The last part practically whispered into her ear as she turned her face as far away as possible from him.

A little laugh boasted out from Geto. “Of course not.” He strolled over to them, bending down to pick up what Gojo had dropped in order to restrain her.

Rope.

Fucking rope.

The moment her eyes zoned in and processed what Geto was unravelling in his hands she tried to fight back even harder. Eyes flooding with tears that spilled down her cheeks. Short mumblings of ‘no’ being repeated over and over while becoming louder until she was yelling.

“Please don’t do this! Let me go! Please, please.. Stop!” She shrieked while sobbing, convinced they were going to kill her or torture her or something horrible like that.

Gojo walked the two of them to the edge of her bed before forcefully pushing her down, manhandling her onto her front and bending her arms to rest pressing against her back.

She sobbed into her ruffled sheets as she felt Geto fastening the rope tight around her wrists, the rough material digging into and pinching the sensitive skin. Raw and red marks already forming amidst her struggle.

Her legs still hung off the bed, trying their best to kick and hopefully injure one or both of them, but she knew it was a losing battle. None of her landing blows made them falter in any way.

When her wrists were successfully restrained Geto kept them pressed to the small of her back while Gojo let go and reached down to grab her ankles. Pulling them up and bending her legs at the knees while they both worked in finishing the task of tying her up.

When they finally stepped back to admire the work they’d successfully done, Y/n deflated. Tears soaking into her bed in which she rested on top of. Her lungs still burned, having never stopped. The hogtied position she had been forced into leaving her nothing to work with in terms of escaping. Not that she could think clearly anyway. The distress she was under proved too much.

“Oh, Shh Sh Sh… There, there, sweet thing. Settle down for us now. We aren’t going to kill you.” Cooed, who she could only guess right now was Gojo.

Geto reached forward from his position of kneeling on the bed, gentle soothing pets stroking her hair. Her sobbing tapering off into hiccupped breathing even while flinching with every touch. “There you go, good girl. See that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He pulled away from her, stepping down off the bed and heading towards the previously discarded bag on the floor Y/n hadn’t noticed before..

Y/n slowly turned her head round, no longer pressed into her sheets. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, swollen from all the crying she’d been doing. Little hiccups and groans left her while her lungs tried to recover. She’d given up struggling right now, it had done nothing but cause her pain as the rope dug and squeezed the skin of her wrists and ankles.

Gojo piped up from behind her, only now feeling the heat from his legs pressing into hers causing her to flinch. “You know, this would’ve gone a whole lot easier if you had just let us in sweetheart.” She could practically hear the smug smile in his voice. “Look at where you are now, tied up all pretty for us. Ripe for the taking.” He pressed closer to her at that, voice practically dripping with need.

She whined in fear and started squirming at his words. Panic flooding her senses again for just a second before a sharp tug to her hair had her yelping, halting her movements.

“I thought I told you to quit that.” Geto was back to kneeling on the bed in front of her, his hand gripping tight onto her hair, eyes narrowed.

Her bottom lip trembled, breaths picking up with every second he glared down at her.

“Don’t be so mean, Sugu.” Gojo said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

Geto glanced back at him before humming and letting go of his harsh grip, her scalp burning in turn. “I suppose you’re right. She’ll have plenty of time to learn when we take her back home.”

Gojo hummed and she felt him leaning away from her, hearing him crouch down and fiddle with something from the bag as well.

“Back home?..” She stuttered, voice hoarse and throat dry.

Geto looked back down at her, amusement painting his face. “Yes. Home.”

“Where..” She started, face formed in a twist of concern and confusion. “Please.. I.. Just let me go. I won’t- I won’t tell anyone, I’ll- I’ll leave you alone, I’ll do anything, please..” She gasped out, tears gathered freshly in her eyes again, voice cracking every few seconds.

An amused eyebrow raised with the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth was all she got as a response.

Gojo had come back, reaching round and fastening a strip of duct tape around her mouth in a sudden flurry of movement. Giving her no time to process what he had done until after he had done it.

She cried out, the sound muffled thanks to the tape, worried eyes darting around in panic as she tried squirming again for the third time.

Gojo pressed up behind her once again. “You’re not going anywhere, sweet pea! You’re ours now. We’ve had you picked out for a long time now.” The joy in his voice didn’t fail to put her on edge, his words doing their part in helping the tears gathered in her waterline to finally spill down her cheeks. Wetting the tape situated over her lips.

“He’s right.” Geto replied. Bringing one of his hands up to show what he had collected from the bag a few moments ago. The mobile phone in his hands glowed brightly in the dark room, the lamp from before having been moved, the light now dim.

“We’ll bring you back with us soon enough, but we still have a few more hours to kill before that. And why waste them.” Gojo said, the grin in his voice unsettling her, keeping her frozen in fear.

An easy smile pulled at Geto’s cheeks at that, head tilting to the side to gaze down at their pretty prey.

“Well what are you waiting for then, Satoru?”

A pause. Smile pulling into a predatory grin.

“Have at it.”

#geto x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere geto #yandere geto suguru #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo x reader #yandere geto x reader

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4dbarbie-archive · 4 months ago

Text

4dbarbie remix: Give up and Be Free

Hello! It's been a while since my last remix. I felt spontaneously inspired to make this based on my most favourite 4dbarbie asks. This one's a bit different as this time I got help from AI so they did a lot of the legwork and I made edits as I saw fit, it definitely cut down on the amount of time it takes to make a remix! I asked them to write it in a conversational tone like a friendly guru talking to me so some of the wording has been changed (which can sometimes be helpful in understanding the message in a new way) so it's not entirely 4dbarbie's words verbatim but the message remains the same (feel free to check out the source texts if you wish!). Hope you enjoy!

Edit: This is based on 4dbarbie's guide to a new identity but you can do it with I AM in mind instead (replacing paragraph 6) for self-realization

My highlight colour key: key concepts are in pink, action points in purple, really important points in red

Source texts: 1, 2, 3, 4 Recommended reading: 1, 2, 3, 4

Welcome, my friend. Let me guide you through something deeply transformative, yet so simple it might surprise you. First and foremost, you need to get to a place within where the person you’re identified with no longer bothers you. As long as you fight it and try so hard & incessantly to change it, you're only giving it further reality. It’s not about force or willpower—it’s more of a surrender, or as I prefer to call it, a giving up. Yes, giving up. Because even if you're not happy about what you see, there is no way around it besides accepting it. Even if this feels like misery at first, accept it. Just sit with it. Only when you no longer fear things staying the same, when you cease caring, does true change begin.

You see, I didn’t fake being unaffected. I simply allowed things to happen to “me”. Painful, pleasant, it didn’t matter. I didn’t try to change anything. I let go of the exhausting loop of desire and fear, like finally putting down a heavy load. The emotions still came, but I didn’t involve myself with them. They didn’t interest me anymore, I became indifferent and neutral to whatever was happening. If I got what I wanted, fine. If I didn’t, fine again. Events passed by like clouds—leaving no imprint, no reverberation. In time, it was like they never existed at all.

And here’s the beautiful part—you’ll begin to toy with this idea: “What if none of this ever really existed in the way I thought?” It’s playful and not serious because you've stopped caring. You’ve stopped chasing “realization”, stopped chasing anything. There's no more trying, no more effort. You no longer want or need anything. And in place of needing nothing, you find something you never expected: power. Not power over things, but power in yourself, in your complete detachment from the world. When you reach this point, everything else becomes secondary.

So how do you walk this path? Start by giving up. Give up the idea that you can control anything. You can do nothing about life but cease caring and let it happen. Do not try to understand anymore; simply be. Let everything be as it is. Let life happen. After all, we all die one day, and it’ll all be over anyway. Why exhaust yourself worrying, fearing, striving or desiring? It’s like fighting an ocean tide—you’re just tiring yourself out. No matter what, you can't force life to give you what you want. Allow everything its being and leave it alone. Instead, step back and let the waves wash over you, let life happen as it happens. Life will flow as it will, and you no longer push or pull at it.

Expect nothing. Not from your body, not from your mind, not from the world. Let them be as they will. If life wants to beat you, just let it beat you. It’s like facing a bully—when you stop reacting, when you stop caring, they lose interest. Sure, maybe they’ll hit harder for a while, but you’ve already surrendered. What more can they do? The same goes for life—stop caring what happens and you’ll find it starts losing its power over you.

Now that you’ve freed yourself from expectations, give yourself everything. Live completely in the moment, forget about a past, don't think about a future. Be here, fully, now. All the good things you used to think about others, think about yourself. In each moment, ask yourself “What if there’s nothing outside of me? What would I think and feel right now?”. Let go of caring what life does with it, just do it. You’re not doing it for some future result; you’re doing it because it feels true to you; to be free and be exactly what you want to be in the moment. Whether tomorrow repeats itself or brings something new, so what? You no longer depend on anything external to feel fulfilled. You keep to yourself and continue thinking what you want, continue being who you want to be. If life follows along, let it. If it doesn’t, let it not. Hold steady to what feels right within you, and allow your thoughts to shape what's real to you.

Finally, remember to forget. The past? Gone. What you see before you? Just a shadow of what was. Now, here’s the key: Want nothing. Do nothing. Don’t chase, don’t seek—just let yourself be. This doesn’t mean you stop living or acting; it simply means you stop the endless striving, the relentless push to try make life bend to your will. Instead, just watch what happens. And most importantly, don’t attach any meaning to it. Be a witness, a quiet observer of the flow of life. Whatever happens, good or bad, is just passing through—you have nothing to do with it. It’s not permanent, nothing is. So why believe in it as though it were immovable? Cease caring and be free!

Let the world dance as it may, but you—remain still within. Watch as the transient nature of everything becomes clearer. You’ll see that the world outside is nothing more than a reflection of the thoughts you no longer hold, and that what you once took to be reality soon ceases to be when you take away your identification.

#remix #4dbarbie #nonduality #non duality #nondualism #non dualism

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bunny-jpeg · 3 months ago

Note

can I pls have a spice pie and maple taffy… with drinks of dark roast coffee and a martini? Served Lance stroll? THANK YOUUUU UR THE GOAT

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i'd love to see what you come up with! and thank you to all of those who have sent prompts, i am working really hard to get them all done. so thank you! i hope you enjoy this, to the twenty lance stroll fans who are all in my inbox (ily) <3 (also picking maple taffy for lance stroll is funny as hell)

edit: i realized that i horribly misread this prompt and got sub!character mixed up with sub!reader, so where ever you are anon. if you wish to submit another prompt, i am more than happy to write it properly for you. (it's been a long writing session tonight!)

spice pie: "i didn't know it was possible to be a liar and a slut." + maple taffy: "oh my god you're stupid." + dark roast coffee: sub!character reader + martini: mafia au served by lance stroll (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, mafia boss!lance, dom/sub, sub!reader & dom!lance, jealous!lance

maybe bringing you to las vegas was a bad idea. sin city wasn't the type of place that a girl liked you belonged in. you belonged in the lovely apartment that you and lance shared back in montreal. bundled up in your thick winter coat while you went to go pick up a bottle of wine for dinner or a late night snack run only to whine when the corner store was closed.

sin city was a whole other demon, one that you had never seen. that was what lance chalked it all up to, you trying to fit in, as you tried to leave your hotel room dressed on par with a nighttime slut.

"where are you going?" he asked as he rolled up the sleeves of his button up. he looked good in it, the fabric of the shirt clung to his arms perfectly, only slightly outshone by how it fit his shoulders.

"seeing the other girls, it's not every day we're in the same city." just as the heads of families kept in contact with each other, the significant others of said men in power also kept in contact. except your conversations were a little less business oriented. more casual and fun.

lance eyed you up and down. you were wearing something very revealing, very slutty. he gave a nod of his head, "and you're going dressed like that."

you looked down at your outfit. it was a satin baby pink slip with straps that crossed in the back. it was cut well above your knee and paired with strappy heels. you looked back at him, "why wouldn't i?"

"do you not see what's wrong with it? you look like you should be selling sex on the strip. like a whore!"

you pouted, "i don't look like a whore!" then stamped your foot down like a child. you watched lance roll his shoulders before he closed the space between you two and had you pressed against the door of the hotel room.

he grabbed you by the chin and made you look into his dark eyes. he said lowly, "oh my god you're stupid, i bet i could sell you on the strip tonight. maybe shove you in a stall at the casino and let you put those whorish lips to work." he rubbed his thumb across your bottom lip before he rubbed the lip gloss between his thumb and pointer finger, "you seem ready to be used in a glory hole."

your bottom lip wobbled, "i'm not a whore." you could feel your knees grow into jelly and lance simply pulled you in for a kiss. when he kissed you, you moaned into it and pressed yourself up against him.

when he pulled away and said, "i didn't know it was possible to be a liar and a slut." before he grabbed you by the ass and pulled you against him. his cock twitched in his slacks.

you pouted further at him before he pulled you into another searing kiss. it was excited you in a way that you felt almost pathetic when you moaned loudly against him. there was something about your mafia boyfriend that made you simply melt. you were twisted between his fingers, which was why it was so hard to disobey him.

he looked at you for a moment before he roughly patted your cheek, "yeah, you're not going out tonight. tell your girlfriends that we made other plans tonight."

"what do i say?"

he took you by the hand and pulled you away from the door. you were pressed against him for a moment which made you feel warm between your legs. he replied, "lie." and it wasn't before you were on the large hotel room and you were looking up at your boyfriend.

there was something domineering about lance's strong, dark features. there was a mystery about him that lured you in. that was probably why you were initially drawn to him. he was slowly unbuttoning his shirt and eyed you up and down.

it wasn't hard to get you out of the dress, it was barely a scrap of fabric that covered you. if lance pulled on it hard enough he could probably tear the seams. but if he did that, you'd probably cum on the spot. you weren't wearing a bra and the panties you wore barely covered anything.

"i could've sold you for a pretty penny tonight." he chuckled as he took off his belt and wrapped it around his hand for a moment, but then unwound it. you were a glutton for punishment and lance wasn't going to quench that thirst.

you looked at him, naked on the bed. you were seated on the mattress with your legs stretched out. you pouted, "i'm sorry, sir." and that licked something in lance's brain.

it made him drop his belt to the ground and he chuckled, "someone really is sorry, huh." he leaned forward and cupped your face for a moment. he could almost feel your racing pulse under his fingers, "next time, i get to pick what you wear. so i know that you're being safe out there. this city would eat you alive, sweetheart. if i lost you, i don't even want to think what i would do. rip the city in half."

you felt something swim in your guy. you licked your lips, tasting the bubblegum of your lip gloss. you pulled away and laid out on the bed. eventually you inched yourself up into the pillows and reached your arms out for him.

lance quickly got his slacks and undergarments off before he got into bed with you. he got himself between your legs, his chest pressed against yours. your legs hiked up around his waist and his hard cock against your slick pussy.

"fuckin' hell." he groaned as he kissed at your neck, "you feel like a dream. i know it. i know you so well, every inch of you." he sank his cock into you and your toes curled a little. you tensed for a moment before you relaxed enough to slot himself into you.

you held onto his shoulders and let out a soft moan.

lance admired your expression for a moment. he felt a shudder of pleasure through his body as he held onto your hips. he made sure that you were more comfortable with his cock inside of you before he started to move. he rocked against you, gaining momentum with each of his movements.

"i've admired you every day since i met you. you are the most beautiful woman in any city were in. no one holds a candle to you." he gripped onto you tighter and you did the same. the two of you were soon kissing deeply, the kisses were heavy and muffled the noises that you two made. but not the sounds of the hotel bed creaking under you.

"mmm, lance." you whimpered as he moved against you. you could feel the heat across you body. your cheeks flushed with sexual heat. this was how you two always ended up, tumbled in the sheets together, rutting against one another like animals.

"see, you look much better like this. better than any club. if you wanted to get drunk, we could do that here. and then i'd make sure your hangover wasn't too bad. fuck the drunk out of you." he chuckled lowly as he continued to fuck you.

you felt the pleasure continue to course through you. you held onto him tighter as you tried to pick up the pace. the moans were loud and sweet, "please, sir." you were lance's everything. from a lover to a sexual submissive. you drove him wild.

the pace between you two was quick as the two of you fucked with a heat between the two of you. the kisses continued, they were messy just like your pace. it wasn't long before you clutched onto lance tightly with your head on his shoulder as you felt so close to him. sweaty all over.

"beautiful." he hissed as he felt the pleasure hit its peak. you both came at the same time. you thought you could feel his heartbeat as he finished inside of you. you both were panting heavily and the sweat covered your body. you laid out there under him while he pulled away a little bit to admire your naked form. he licked his lips at the sight of you and said, "mine."

you nodded dumbly and said, "yours, always." before lance had you on your elbows and knees with your hips raised. you'd text the others later about why you couldn't meet up with them. but it was hard to do that when your phone was in the living area and lance was rearranging your insides. <3

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