#but since I already talked to them about it I really don’t think that will happen

[sweetshuga]

❝𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒏𝒐 𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔.❞

starring 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐

⟡ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕! ⋆ bsf!matt ⋆ pet names ⋆ pnv ⋆ big dick!matt ⋆ size kink ⋆ praise kink (?) ⋆ more.

You’d been purposely teasing Matt ever since you learned that he was attracted to you in that way. You’d dress in more skin revealing clothes than normal when you hung out with him, or you’d go without a bra — sometimes even going commando.

And the worst part? You’d always tell him about it during a lull in your conversation or just bring it up casually then immediately talk about something else as if you didn’t just plant dirty thoughts in his head.

Today, however, Matt had enough of your teasing.

You were sitting on his couch, legs crossed casually, wearing that damned sundress that draped over your curves in a way that had his jeans tightening.

“You know... going without panties is really nice — feels so breezy down there,” you said, idly scrolling through insta reels as if you didn’t just tell your best friend that you weren’t wearing any underwear.

The different audios coming from your phone filled in the silence, but none helped Matt distract himself from his increasingly inappropriate thoughts.

Matt’s jaw muscles ticked, his pupils dilating and eyes turning dark with desire. His body betrayed him as his cock began to harden and he discreetly adjusted himself while his eyes raked over your body.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, throat going dry at the thought of you sitting beside him in nothing but one piece of clothing.

You were definitely doing this on purpose.

“You’re really fucking pushing it.” He murmured, voice low and husky with barely controlled lust.

“What?” You pretended not to understand what he meant, but the smile in your voice gave way to your oblivious act.

“Don’t fucking play dumb with me-” he cut himself off, taking a deep, shaky breath before continuing with gritted teeth. “I. had. enough.”

Before you could react, you were manhandled into a position Matt wanted you in — draped over the couch. Your knees dug into the cushions and your hands gripped the backrest of the couch as you tried to balance yourself.

Matt pulled up the hem of your dress until your bare ass was on display, his fingers immediately sinking into the supple flesh of your cheeks before he pulled them apart to reveal your glistening pussy.

His cock twitched in his jeans at the sight of your arousal.

“Fuuck, sweetheart, you’re dripping.” Matt groaned. “I... I need to be inside you,” he murmured urgently, but didn’t do anything about it since he wanted to know if you wanted it too.

“Tell me we can’t — tell me to stop... Because I don’t think I can control myself from taking you right here on this fucking couch.” His breathing was ragged, his voice taking an almost desperate tone.

“Don’t stop, please.” Your plea shattered whatever he had left of his self-control and he quickly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, fumbling slightly before finally freeing himself.

His heavy, veiny length slapped against his stomach when he pulled down his boxers, standing tall and proud and already leaking precum.

Matt spit on his palm and wrapped his fingers around himself, pumping his length to lubricate it before teasing your drenched slit with his tip, groaning lowly at the warm wetness coating his cockhead.

You both moaned softly when he slowly pushed his tip inside. his hands held your hips tightly as he thrust forward, pushing almost all of his length inside you in one smooth motion.

“Oh-oh my g-god,” you stuttered, slightly overwhelmed by the feeling of being stuffed full of matt.

He began to move, his fingers digging into your hips as he fucked you in languid, deep strokes — each one deep enough for his tip to kiss your cervix.

“Thaat’s right, baby... Fuck yourself on my dick.” Matt groaned when you began to push back against him, your ass meeting his hips with wet smacks. “Just-juust like that... Take every fucking inch — oh, fuuckk--”

The lewd sounds of his cock plowing in and out of your sopping cunt filled the living room — along with your pleasure-filled, needy moans and his low groans and grunts.

Matt noticed the way your inner walls fluttered around his length and he knew you were close. His hips stuttered at the knowledge that he was making you feel this good, his own pleasure growing.

His hand snaked around to rub your clit in quick circles and his free arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place as he began to really fuck you.

“C’mon, baby, cum for me... Cum on your best friend’s cock.” matt rasped, his hips slapping against your ass with enough force for you to recoil forward, but his arm around your waist had you unable to move away from the intensity of it all.

Your whole body tensed when you finally let go — a powerful orgasm ripping through you. Your pussy squeezed him soo good, so much so he couldn’t help but groan loudly.

“Good girl... Your pussy feels fucking amazing,” Matt leaned down and whispered, letting his lips graze the shell of your ear, his chest flush against your back.

He fucked you through your orgasm but slowed down enough for you catch your breath. He nuzzled his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

“One more... I need more.” Matt whispered, his hips moving slowly, face still buried in your neck as he kissed and nipped at the sensitive skin there.

“You’re addictive.”

© 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒔𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒂

⟡ 𝟎.𝟗𝒌 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 ⸝⸝ 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆!

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 𝖎𝖘𝖆’𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘 ་༘࿐ Pretend you didn’t see me make another new account just to delete it again lol

[andy-15-07]

Hi! I.m not sure if your requests are still open of if this is where we ask for them and if its not im sorry. I was wondering if you could do something with Joel where he finds her when he is trying to save Ellie. He finds out that reader is also immune and the fireflies were gonna kill her too. So he saves her and he becomes the only person she trusts and doesn't really talk to anyone but him when they get back to Jackson. Joel slowly falls in love with her and one day on patrol he kisses her because they almost died and he think it's now or never. if not it's all good. Thanks!

Something Better

PAIRING: Joel Miller x reader

WORD COUNT: 1290 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

It had been days since Joel had seen another human face that wasn’t trying to kill him.

Ellie was gone. Taken by the Fireflies.

His boots were soaked with blood and melting snow as he moved through the sterile white halls of the hospital, heart pounding, rifle tight in his grip. He’d done the unthinkable already. The doctors were dead. Marlene too. All for Ellie.

But just as he turned a corner toward the recovery wing, he heard a voice. Not Ellie’s. Quieter. Raspy. And scared.

"Please don’t take me back. Please... I didn’t say yes."

Joel froze.

He stepped closer and peered into one of the observation rooms. A girl, maybe a few years older  than Ellie, lay strapped to a hospital bed. Her arms were bruised from needles and restraints. She had dark circles under her eyes, lips dry, and skin pale,but she was very much alive.

And awake.

Her eyes widened when she saw him.

"Are you here to kill me too?"

Joel lowered his gun immediately. "No, darlin'. I ain't here to hurt you."

She looked so tired. So damn scared.

"They said I was like her. The other immune one. But I didn’t want this. They were going to cut into my brain."

Joel’s heart dropped. Another one? Another immune girl, treated like cargo. An experiment.

He crossed the room in two strides and started undoing the straps. "You're getting outta here. What's your name?"

She hesitated. "Y/N."

"Y/N, I'm Joel. We don’t have much time. Come on."

The drive back to Jackson was quiet. Ellie was unconscious in the backseat, safe, and Y/N sat next to Joel in the passenger seat, barely speaking.

She didn’t ask questions. Didn’t cry. Just sat still, staring out the window like she was trying to memorize the world in case it disappeared again.

Joel offered her food. Blankets. Water. Nothing made her flinch except when he touched her wrist by accident.

"Sorry," he muttered.

She shook her head, finally speaking, voice a whisper. "Not your fault. You didn’t put me there. You got me out."

Back in Jackson, life was... different.

Y/N was placed in a spare cabin. Ellie healed. People smiled again. But Y/N? She didn’t talk to anyone. Didn’t trust anyone.

Except Joel.

When she did talk, it was to him. In quiet places. On patrol. On walks. In the early morning when the rest of the town was asleep. She felt safest with Joel.

"You ever think about leaving?" she asked once, during a patrol.

"Used to. Not anymore."

"Why not?"

He looked at her. "Because you’re here. Ellie’s here. It’s the first time in twenty years I got somethin' to lose."

She turned her face away, hiding her blush. But Joel saw it.

They grew close. Closer than Joel expected.

He’d find excuses to patrol with her. She’d bring him coffee. They’d share quiet dinners. She’d sit by his fire when sleep wouldn’t come. And Joel? He found himself watching her laugh. Noticed the way her eyes crinkled. The way she said his name like it meant something.

He was falling.

Hard.

The day it all changed started like any other patrol.

Snow. Footprints. Clickers in the woods.

But when one came too close, too fast, Joel almost didn’t react in time.

Y/N did.

She threw herself between him and the infected, burying her machete into its throat. It collapsed at her feet.

Joel’s heart nearly stopped.

"Jesus," he rasped, grabbing her shoulders. "What the hell were you thinking?!"

She was panting, wild-eyed. "I thought it was gonna get you."

"So you just threw yourself in the way?!"

"Yeah! Because I care about you, Joel!"

Silence.

Their breath came in clouds. His hands were still gripping her coat.

"You what?"

She swallowed. "You heard me."

He didn’t wait. He kissed her.

Joel pulled away just enough to look her in the eyes. "I thought I lost you. I ain’t never felt that scared in my life. Not since Sarah. Not even with Ellie."

Y/N blinked, her chest rising and falling, trying to keep pace with the thundering of her heart. Joel's hand was still warm at her jaw, thumb brushing back and forth like he was memorizing the feel of her.

"Joel," she whispered. "You kissed me."

"I know. Shouldn't have done it like that, not out here. But hell... you got in front of that Clicker for me. And it hit me,I can't lose you. Not after everything."

Her eyes softened. She took his hand from her jaw and held it between hers. "I didn’t jump in front of it for fun. I did it because I care about you. More than I should. You’re the only one I trust."

He swallowed. Hard. "Do you... wanna go back to Jackson? We can talk more. Just you and me."

She nodded, cheeks flushed. "Yeah. Let’s go home."

They rode in silence the rest of the way, but their hands kept brushing. When they got to Jackson, the world was quieter, more forgiving. Snow lined the rooftops, horses snorted in the early dusk, and families bustled behind closed doors.

Joel led her to his house instead of hers. She didn’t fight it.

"You warm enough?" he asked after hanging up their jackets.

Y/N nodded. Her fingers itched to reach for him again. Instead, she paced a little, unsure.

Joel moved to the kitchen, poured two mugs of tea,one with a splash of whiskey, just how she liked it. When he handed it to her, their fingers brushed again.

"Joel, about what happened out there,"

"Let me say it first," he interrupted gently. "I've been fighting how I feel. Since the day I met you. You were scared, covered in blood and bruises when I pulled you out of that Firefly hospital. And yet, you looked at me like I was the only safe thing left in the world. I didn’t deserve that."

"You saved my life."

"So did you. You don't even talk to most people. You talk to me. Trust me. That means somethin'."

Y/N stepped closer. "It means everything. Joel, you're the first person I've felt...safe with. Like I'm not a science experiment. Not just 'the other immune girl.'"

He reached out, thumb brushing her cheek again. "You ain't just any girl, Y/N. You're strong. Brave. Kind, even after all you've been through. And goddamn if I haven’t been fallin' in love with you a little more every day."

She inhaled sharply. Her chest ached in the best way.

"I love you too," she said. "Even when you scowl. Especially then."

He laughed, quiet and rough, and closed the distance.

The kiss this time was slower. More certain. His hands slid around her waist and hers curled into the collar of his flannel. His lips were warm, chapped, familiar. The sound of their breath, the creak of the floorboards, the soft knock of teeth. All of it was them.

They moved together like they’d been waiting years.

Hours later, they sat curled on his worn couch, her legs draped over his, her head on his chest.

"You ever think about what comes next?" she asked softly.

Joel rubbed lazy circles into her back. "Used to be, I didn’t. Was too busy surviving. But now... with you? Yeah. I think about a lot."

She looked up at him, eyes glassy but sure. "I want a life. Not just surviving. A real life. With you."

Joel leaned in, kissed her temple. "Then we’ll make one. Right here. Together."

Outside, the wind howled. But inside, Joel held her like she was the last soft thing in the world.

And for the first time in years, she believed in something better than survival.

She believed in them.

[sturnsblogs]

HATE THAT I DONT HATE IT

Loser!Matt X Popular!Reader

Word Count- 762.

Warning- none.

Being Matt Sturniolo’s emotional babysitter is exactly as miserable as you expected. Maybe even worse.

It’s only been a few days since the principal “randomly” rearranged your schedule and partnered you with the school’s biggest social mystery—a walking caution sign in the shape of a boy. You used to only hear about him through whispers and occasional detentions. Now you breathe the same air as him in nearly every class.

And every moment is exhausting.

He barely talks. When he does, it’s either sharp or cryptic. And somehow he’s always watching. Not in the flirty, dreamy way your friends sigh about—but like he’s mentally writing your obituary in his head.

You try. God, you try.

You force conversation during classwork. You try to keep it surface-level. You offer him pens. You slide him notes with ideas. Sometimes he stares at them like they’re written in another language. Other times he gives the barest nod, scribbles something down, and goes right back to ignoring you.

It’s like talking to a locked door.

You’re not used to this. You’re used to people liking you. Laughing at your jokes. Wanting to sit next to you, talk to you, be seen with you. You’ve always known how to work a room—how to be what people want.

But none of that works on Matt.

And somehow that makes it worse.

—

Lunch is supposed to be a break. A breath. A return to normal.

You sit at your usual table, surrounded by noise and perfume and glitter and open phone cameras. Someone’s holding up a selfie stick. Someone’s already gossiping about a fight that happened in third period.

You push your tray around with your fork, barely listening.

Until you hear his name.

“Ugh, did you guys see Matt Sturniolo today? He looks like he sleeps in a haunted basement.”

Laughter erupts.

You look up.

“I swear, he smelled like metal,” another girl says. “Like… pennies and vape smoke.”

“His eyes are so scary. Dead fish eyes. Like if a cat and a serial killer had a baby.”

More laughter.

You force a smile.

It’s not hard. You’re good at pretending.

“I mean, he literally never speaks. Like, hello? Social cues?” you add.

It gets a few laughs. Someone taps their water bottle against yours like a toast.

But inside, it feels different.

Wrong.

Because you’ve met his eyes. You’ve sat next to him long enough to know that silence doesn’t always mean nothing’s there. Sometimes silence is louder than people realize.

Still, you say nothing else. You don’t defend him. You don’t even really know why you feel weird about it.

Maybe it’s because you hate him, but you hate that everyone else hates him too—without having to try.

You hate that you’re stuck with him while everyone else gets to treat him like a punchline.

You hate that you agree with them, but you also… don’t.

—

Later, you catch yourself thinking about the way he looked today when he walked into class—hood up, eyes half-dead, like someone dared him to care about being alive. He didn’t even glance your way. Just sat down and started sketching something in the margins of his notebook. You couldn’t tell what it was. Something sharp and abstract. It didn’t look like nothing.

It looked like something.

—

You don’t talk about it at lunch. Not to your friends. Not to anyone.

Because what would you even say?

“Yeah, I hate him, but not like that.”

“Yeah, he sucks, but maybe not on purpose.”

You don’t even know if that’s true.

All you know is this: being forced into Matt’s world is making yours feel smaller. Quieter. Heavier.

And for the first time in a long time, you’re not sure who you’re performing for anymore.

Because every time you smile now, you feel like he’s watching you from the back of your brain—like he’s silently calling you out without even opening his mouth.

And somehow, that’s worse than anything your friends could say.

A/N- ☺️.

[jibitzlesscrocs]

can u write a fic where chris gets a random girl pregnant (it was a hookup) and has to tell nick and chris and theyre pissed abt it?

ooooh this is a interesting one i made so far enjoyy !

warning : cuss words , accidental pregnancy

unexpected

in which , chris gets someone pregnant

It was supposed to be just a night.

You and Chris.

Met at a party, had a long conversation leading to, too much laughter, air so thick, one impulsive decision. No dating. No expectations. Just heat and chaos in the back of his car, and then… nothing.

Until you miss your period.

And then the test.

Two pink lines.

You tell Chris first. He doesn’t run. He doesn’t ghost you. He just stares at the floor for a long, long time and says:

“Okay. Alright. I—I’m in this. Whatever you need.”

But now comes the hard part: telling them.

His brothers.

⸻

They’re already sitting on the couch when he gets home. Chris paces the living room, fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie, running a hand through his curls until Matt finally speaks.

“Dude. Spit it out. You’re pacing like someone died.”

Chris stops.

“I got someone pregnant.”

There’s a beat of silence so loud it might break the windows.

Nick blinks. “What?”

Chris squares his shoulders. “You heard me.”

Matt’s mouth opens, then closes. It’s Nick who stands first, voice sharp and rising.

“You- what the fuck, Chris?”

“It was one time,” Chris says quickly. “It wasn’t planned, obviously. But I’m not walking away from it. She told me last week and I’ve been—I’ve been thinking it through. I want to be part of it. I’m gonna be part of it.”

“Do you even know this girl?” Nick’s voice cuts like glass. “Like actually? Or was it just some random hookup?”

Chris swallows. “We’ve talked since. It wasn’t nothing. She’s not asking for anything from me—but I’m still not gonna leave her to do it alone.”

Nick scoffs. “Jesus Christ, man. You think this is noble or something? You barely know her. What if she’s using you? What if it’s not even—”

“Nick.” Matt finally steps in, voice quieter, but heavy. “Chill.”

“No, I won’t chill,” Nick snaps. “We’re supposed to look out for each other, and he just threw himself into a lifelong responsibility with someone we don’t even know. This is huge.”

Chris’s voice rises. “I know it’s huge! You think I haven’t been panicking for a week straight? But it’s not about me anymore. There’s a fucking life coming and I made it. So yeah, it matters what you think, but not more than doing the right thing.”

Nick stares at him—jaw tight, hands clenched—then turns away with a muttered, “Fuck, man.”

Chris looks at Matt, as if hoping for something—anything—from his usually quiet brother.

Matt shrugs, but there’s something softer in his eyes. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m freaked out. But if you’re serious about being there, then I’m with you.”

Chris nods once, a little too fast, like he might break apart if he doesn’t stay moving.

Matt walks over, claps a hand to his shoulder. “You told her you’re in?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Then we are too.”

Nick exhales hard. “I’m not saying I trust her. But I trust you. So prove me right.”

⸻

Later that week, you sit on the edge of Chris’s bed, legs curled beneath you, while he tells you everything—how he broke the news, how they both lost it, how Matt eventually said “we’re with you.”

You don’t even realize you’re crying until Chris sits next to you and takes your hand.

“I’m scared,” you admit.

“I’m fucking terrified,” he answers, no hesitation. “But that doesn’t mean I’m bailing.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, and his arm wraps around you like instinct.

“This wasn’t the plan,” you whisper.

“Maybe not,” he says. “But it’s real now. And I’m not running.”

taglist : @courta13 , @sunkissedsturniolos , @ivysturnss , @imsoborediwannadie , @emeraldsturns

MAI’S STORE

haven’t done this cutie in a hot minute ! this is something really different from what i write but im up for it !!

[mel0ndream]

𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓂𝑜𝓂

[synopsis]: y/n gets very injured after a mission and John decides to take care of her with Bob´s help but soon John will find some new information he could had never imagined.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[pairing]: John walker (US AGENT) x reader / fem!reader

[word count]: 1.5

[Warnings]: mentions of injuries, mentions of blood, mentions of fighting, mentions of harm

[Author´s note]: This is my second fic, please don´t be rude, I took insipiration of an edit I saw please forgive my poor english I´ll be posting more soon

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆ ┊ . ˚

Y/n and the thunderbolts just had finished preparing for a mission, as usual Alexei was the one who was going to drive, Yelena and Bob were sitting next to each other as usual, Ava was in the front passenger seat with Alexei and y/n was sitting next to John, she had been forced to be interacting more with John since in the previous mission they had put the thunderbolts in danger for arguing, Bucky was the one looking for them and preventing them from fighting.

“OKAY GUYS WE ARE ALMOST HERE” shouted Alexei from the driving seat, the all started preparing their things to get down of the car. When Bucky had already gone out of the car y/n was getting out behind him when she felt how John who was the only one left in the car grabbed her arm “hey y/n can I please ask you something” said John while looking more gently at her, y/n looked at him with some curiosity and a little bit warned at the way he was talking to her “sure?” “can you please get out of my way today, I don’t want you ruining everything or delaying me” y/n pulled her arm out of john´s hand and got out of the car.

The mission started everyone was doing their own stuff, well except from Bob who was just in the corner cheering them (because he was part of the team but still couldn´t fight with his own hands, he had already been taking lessons with Yelena and Bucky but he was still so afraid to fight). The thunderbolts had been tracking this gangsters band from like two months since the battle with the void, so they couldn´t really messed it up.

Bucky was underground with Ava trying to find some samples of the drugs that they were trafficking, while Alexei and Yelena were fighting the guards and some guys that were blocking the doors or trying to stop theme, Bob, john and y/n, where also underground trying to find some archives Val had solicited.

“Bob you are going to search in the computer while me and John look in the cellar” Bob just nodded with his head and y/n and john headed to the cellar, they knew they couldn’t really take that much time because they left Bob alone and even they knew he could defend himself they were still putting him in danger, they split ways in the cellar so they wouldn’t take much time.

“Hey John” said y/n in a whisper “what?” said john very annoyed when heard how y/n shouted and heard a metal noise and the sound of a door being closed very loudly, he immediately run towards where she was and he didn´t saw her, he started screaming for Bob´s help, while he tried to open the door; when Bob arrived he didn´t had no clue of what was happening he just followed what John was doing. For that moment Bucky and Ava had arrived to where the where, Ava passed the blocked door and let them in, they started looking for y/n, and decided to split ways so they could cover more ground.

John was feeling really bad, he started thinking about all the bad things y/n could experience, he wouldn´t knew how to handle it if something bad happened to her, or even if she died he wouldn´t forgive himself, he already had lost everything and he felt even more bad because all this time he mistreated her it was just because hi fancied her, but was to ashamed and embarrassed to tell her, he felt she was just too much for him, he didn´t deserved someone like her. John kept running till he found an exit; he went out and saw how they were taking her in a truck, John started shooting and fighting the people that was there, when he was done he went straight to the truck, when he found y/n she was unconscious, he had blood all over her face, her mouth was all swollen and she had bite marks on her face and some broken bones, John couldn´t help himself from crying but he tried to put apart his feelings and carried her but he was to scared of hurting here more. He gently carried her in his arms and took her to a safer place.

•.*✶°✦°✷　•.*✶°✦°✷　•.*✶°✦°✷　•.*✶°✦°✷　•.*✶°✦°✷　•.*✶°✦°✷　•.*✶°✦°✷　

When y/n waked up she was in her room, she had her left arm and right leg with a cast, she tried to speak but she couldn´t her throat ached a lot, she didn´t remember anything very clear, she just remembered when she was arguing in the car with John, she was about to fall asleep again when she saw John entering to her room with a tray with breakfast, John immediately run to her when he saw her wake.

“y/n! Oh my God! How do you feel? BOB! BOB! COME HERE SHE´S AWAKE!” john screamed while he left the tray next to y/n. y/n couldn´t help herself from giggling even if it was painful for her, she had never seen John like that, it was a mixture of excitement and worriedness he seems to be excited about y/n waking up, but he was also very worried about her, her state was very critical and sensible it was not like she was going to die, but her injuries made her more sensible to the environment and less capable of doing things by herself. Bob was the one taking care from her since he was the gentler one and he was not attending missions so someone could stay with her and look after her so she wouldn´t get injured.

Bob entered the room “Y/N! I thought you were going to wake up till tomorrow” Said Bob while he started checking her signals and pressure “were are the others” said y/n “they went to a mission” said Bob still checking her pressure, “and why are you here?” said y/n looking at John “Did you wanted to be the first to annoy me when I waked up?” John just avoided looking at y/n he knew why she said all that but he still felted very guilty about it “y/n you should get some sleep” said Bob looking at her gently “but I don´t want to sleep, and I don´t want to be alone” said y/n looking at Bob “I´m sorry I have therapy, but my friend John here can take care of you” said Bob looking at John, John just gave her a gently smile “agh I rather be alone” said y/n and pulled up her blankets, Bob left the room just giving her gentle kiss on her forehead and smiling at John who was sitting on the side of the bed. Y/n fall asleep a couple of minutes later, John stayed there so he could look after her, in a moment he saw her sweating, her face was all red, he stands up to check her and put the back of his hand on her forehead and then on her cheek, she was burning

“y/n wake up, you have fever” John got a bit scared, he didn’t know what to do, he just pulled her blankets and went for a towel with water, he tried remembering what did her mother did to him when he had fever, he remembered she would force him to take a cold shower but he couldn´t do that to y/n so he just thought about the towels “here y/n” said John putting one towel on her forehead and other one on her feet “please make me some food mom” said y/n looking at John, at this point the fever was so high she was hallucinating “what y/n? what are you saying , it´s me John” said John next to her “I love him mom” said y/n grabbing one of his fingers, John was shocked, he didn´t knew what to say, he couldn´t understand how could she love him, he was a piece of shit, a horrible human being, he always so mean to her every time he could “who do you love y/n? Bucky? Or Bob?” asked John kneeling next her in the bed he had to make sure he understood the confession “Walker” said y/n as a whisper, John couldn´t believe it even being a bad person he did deserved her, and he was going to do everything that was in his hands so she could love him even more.

Y/n waked up the next morning, Ava was sleeping next to her, she wanted to go to the bathroom but didn´t want her to wake up, she grabbed the wheelchair and went by herself to the bathroom. When she arrived she found something written on her mirror (GET WELL PRETTY GIRL) and some flowers where next the mirror, she knew they were probably from Bob or even Ava but she wanted them to be from John.

[tryandbehappy]

Not a question, just a comment about the latest episode. I feel like the B&TB storyline is probably not gonna happen now? I say this because I think Rose and the baby will die (based upon them eating the Ketamine cake), which leaves us more with a June-feels-guilt-and-realizes-she's-just-as-bad-as-Nick storyline. I don't like this storyline as much because it feels like it comes from a place of guilt for June rather than a place of love and protection. I really wanted her to save him from an angry mob and to accept him fully without having to kill his wife and baby to come to that realization. I'm also sorta mad that June was fine to just let Nick and Rose eat the cake - as if she didn't care a bit about them. Either way, there is SO MUCH ground to cover in the next 2 episodes and I'm getting worried our Osblaine moments will be super limited. Thoughts??

That’s interesting, let’s talk

1. So, is the Beauty and the Beast parallel off the table now?

Honestly, this is such an interesting question because, yeah at this point, it’s really hard to predict where the writers are taking this. It feels like they’ve already built a solid Beauty and the Beast foundation, that symbolism is clearly there. But where it all leads — who knows?

The one thing that surprised me (and maybe even lowkey reassured me?) is that they didn’t take Nick any further with this arc (I’m not good without her), not yet at least . And maybe that’s for the best.

It doesn’t mean they won’t keep using elements from that storyline though, there are a lot of those.

The main takeaway is: the parallel still exists. Just not sure yet what they’ll do with it next.

2. Will Rose die from the cake and make June feel like she’s just as “bad” as Nick?

I’m not so sure about that either. Like… how would ketamine hurt her if it didn’t really affect anyone else? Just because she’s pregnant? I’m kind of skeptical about this storyline, but okay — maybe they’ll explain it that way.

From a narrative perspective, yeah, it would make sense to get Rose (and the baby) out of the picture. She’s extra baggage for Nick right now, tying him to Gilead and making him less free to move forward. And since we’re heading toward the finale, it feels like we’re getting rid of everything that holds him back.

But honestly? I feel like that “I’m not innocent and good as Nick hinted” arc already happened — in this very same episode. The moment June stabbed Commander Bell in the eye and watched him suffer before he died? That was it.

(But okay, maybe that’s just me as a fangirl seeing what Nick said in literally every one of her reactions.)

And right after that, we saw June turn kinda soft again — going to Aunt Lydia, trying to solve things peacefully, talking instead of killing. So yeah, maybe that monster arc is already complete? I don’t know if they’ll go back to it through Rose’s storyline… it’s possible, but I’m not convinced.

3. June didn’t warn Nick about the drugged cake — does that mean she doesn’t care?

Honestly, I don’t think this was that serious. It was just a sleeping drug — and it didn’t even fully knock Bell out. So it clearly wasn’t dangerous, at least not to him.

What actually stood out to me was how much focus there was on June’s reaction to Nick. It was unreal. Like, if you think about it — this episode wasn’t about Nick and June at all, and yet? They still gave us so much. They didn’t show Nick’s side, they showed him through her eyes — how it hurt her to see him with his wife, hearing the vows?? how she wanted to go to him

There was so much focus on that, it blew my mind.

What bothered me more, honestly, was that they showed Nick looking… almost happy. At peace, even? Which doesn’t track at all with where he should be emotionally. Like, we know this man is destroyed inside. He’s depressed. He’s barely holding on. We know this character. So to see him smiling on stage, being all casual with Rose — it felt off.

But maybe that’s just how June sees him now. Maybe that was the point she’s watching him from across the room and thinking: “He’s fine. He has a wife and a baby. He’s happy without me😭😭

And that hurts. Because for so long, she’s only seen his loyalty. And now it feels like that’s gone for her

4. There’s not enough time left for their arc, is there?

Actually… I think there is. If you look at it closely, most of the other storylines are already wrapped up. Let’s list them:

• Aunt Lydia’s arc? Done.

• Janine’s? Resolved.

• The revolution? Pretty much happened kinda — they wiped out almost every commander in one episode.

• Luke? Yeah, maybe not officially over, but they’ve said it a hundred times this season: they’re a broken family staying together for Hannah. That’s their entire dynamic now. And you can really feel the difference if you compare it to earlier seasons. I just rewatched S5, and back then it wasn’t nearly this clear that June and Luke were done. But now it’s obvious.

And they’ve told us — over and over again — that June loves Nick.

Nick knows it too.

So what’s left?

Two full episodes to finally close the one major arc that’s still open: June and Nick.

We still have Serena floating around, yeah, but even that feels like her arc is wrapping up. So really — this show has time. Especially if you think about how much they’ve crammed into Episodes 9 and 10 in past seasons. Like, S4? They gave us SO much Nick and June in those last two episodes it felt like a fanfic dream.

And here’s what I’ve noticed: the writers don’t like to go too dark.

They haven’t done anything near Game of Thrones level. If you look at major character deaths, we’ve only lost Fred (who was clearly a villain), and that’s it?? That’s it.

They’re giving even the evil characters redemption arcs — Lydia, Serena.

And Nick? He hasn’t even done anything that really needs redeeming. He’s just still part of the system, and his arc is clearly about waking up and choosing something better.

Another arc that still needs resolution?

The idea that not all commanders are monsters.

We even saw this theme play out in this episode, when Serena tells her husband:

“You’re a bad person because you’re a commander.”

It’s not even about specific actions anymore. The title itself = monster. (Of course he is a monster no doubt)

But that’s the label Nick is carrying.

Even though he’s never had a handmaid, and he never would. He’s never raped anyone. He’s not like them.

(Also Hannah’s arc is not resolved)

So yeah, I think we still have enough time. enough to finally give us what we’ve been waiting for:

That moment where June says, loud and clear, it’s you. only you.

[daisybeats]

This is the first draft of chapter 1 of Shattered and Bound

As you can read below, things really change as I begin editing a story. Somehow the chapter below turned into the first official chapter of Shattered and Bound

They don’t talk about Beacon Hills.

Not anymore.

Not since it stopped being a town and became a graveyard.

It happened fast. One bad call. One shadow that was too quiet, too clever. The Nogitsune slithered its way into Stiles - more insidious, more patient than anyone had expected. And when it finally made its move, it didn’t want chaos.

It wanted ruin.

Allison’s death was the matchstick.

Scott was the wildfire.

Something snapped in him when she died. The True Alpha, the golden boy, he broke. Fell into something primal and brutal, and never climbed back out. He didn’t see nuance anymore, didn’t ask questions. Just hunted.

He said Stiles was still infected. Said he smelled wrong. Said it was his fault.

Noah Stilinski stepped between them.

He always had.

The sheriff died with his badge on. Protecting his son from a boy he once trusted like family.

By the time Derek got there, there was nothing left to save but Stiles - and even that was a miracle stitched together with blood and panic. He found him crumpled on the floor, a broken sound clawing its way out of his throat as he clutched his father’s body. The smell of wolf and gunpowder and grief hung thick in the air.

Derek didn’t remember moving. Just teeth. Fury. A scream that sounded more like a roar. He drove Scott back long enough to get Stiles out, dragging him through backroads and ash and silence.

Lydia’s scream came later.

The kind that cracked windows. That turned her eyes white and her mind inside out. She hasn't spoken since. Not to anyone.

Eichen House took her. There weren’t any better options.

Beacon Hills was abandoned piece by piece after that. The pack disbanded. Some died. Some vanished. Some turned their backs and never looked back.

But Derek stayed.

And so did Stiles.

Not in the town. Not in the memories.

But in the war that came after.

Because the supernatural world didn’t stop spinning just because theirs had burned.

They became something else.

Not pack. Not hunters.

Enforcers. Negotiators. Executioners.

Partners.

A bruised, fractured thing held together by shared scars and the vow neither of them ever said aloud: never again.

And when Derek looks at Stiles now…sees the shadows under his eyes, the way he walks like the world might shatter if he breathes wrong, he remembers that night. Remembers the blood. The loss. The thing that bonded them deeper than a bite ever could.

It’s not love.

Not yet.

It’s something darker. Older.

It’s survival.

It’s loyalty.

And it’s not going anywhere.

~~~~

Flashback 

It was raining.

Because of course it was. The sky wept as the world burned.

Derek’s boots pounded through the mud, his heartbeat a thunderous echo in his ears. He smelled blood. Wolf. Gunpowder. Grief. Stiles.

He was too late.

He was always too late.

But not this time. Not this time.

He came around the corner of the sheriff’s station, claws already out, fangs bared, vision going red. The front doors were torn off the hinges, windows shattered. A broken line of bullet casings led inside. It smelled like scorched wood and grief.

And Scott.

He was standing over Stiles; no longer the boy they all once loved. His eyes glowed that blinding, feral red, claws dripping, face twisted with something beyond rage. Something lost.

Stiles was on the floor, bleeding from his side, trying to crawl toward a body.

No.

No, no, no.

Derek's stomach dropped as he saw Noah Stilinski lying in a heap of broken tan fabric and red, red blood, eyes staring at nothing.

“It’s his fault!” Scott snarled. “He brought it here - he let it in! He killed her!”

Derek didn’t think.

He launched.

The collision cracked through the station like a bomb. Wood splintered, metal shrieked. Derek slammed Scott into the far wall, claws digging deep. They grappled, teeth snapping, both howling like animals. Derek wasn’t fighting a friend; he was fighting a monster wearing Scott’s face.

Stiles screamed something behind them, but Derek didn’t hear. He couldn’t.

Scott roared, breaking Derek’s grip, slashing at his ribs. Pain bloomed, but it didn’t matter. Derek used the momentum to drive Scott through a desk, snarling in his face.

“He’s human,” Derek growled, voice almost lost to the shift. “You touch him again - and I will fucking kill you.”

For a second, something flickered in Scott’s eyes. Recognition. Confusion.

Then he blinked - and bolted, crashing through a window and into the storm outside.

Gone.

Just like that.

Silence fell.

Derek turned, heart in his throat, and dropped to his knees beside Stiles.

“Stiles,” he breathed. “Hey. Hey. Stay with me.”

Stiles wasn’t looking at him. He was staring at his dad’s body, lips moving silently. Derek’s hands hovered uselessly - blood everywhere, too much of it - before he finally pressed down on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, grounding himself in instinct, in something.  He pulled as much of Stiles’ pain as he could.

“I couldn’t stop him,” Stiles whispered, hoarse and broken. “He just…he didn’t even hesitate, Derek, he didn’t even-”

“Don’t,” Derek said sharply, voice cracking. “Don’t you dare blame yourself.”

Stiles finally looked at him then…eyes wide, wet, shell shocked.

“He was all I had left.”

“You still have me.”

The words came before Derek could stop them.

They sat there in the wreckage - Stiles shaking, Derek bleeding, Noah’s body cooling inches away - and somehow, even with everything broken, that moment became the foundation of something new.

Something angry.

Something loyal.

Something unshakable.

[atwhughesversion]

jim rutherford’s world tour, continued 😐

summary of rutherford’s appearance on Canucks Central today; it’ll be available to listen to on the Sportsnet 650 website as well as podcast platforms shortly for those who didn’t hear it live!

on offence:

thinks they’d have had more offence last year if they shot more lol — “and for some reason the players wanted to pass the puck when scoring chances were there”

thinks offence can come from structure, and thinks it’s better than the teams who can get burned by cheating for offensive chances

on quinn/adam foote:

players don’t want to help choose coaches — rutherford had a really good conversation with quinn the day tocchet decided to leave then he asked quinn if he had any suggestions, and quinn said he trusted management would make the right decision/his job is to play

quinn was excited to hear that foote would be the head coach

they’ll do everything they can to keep quinn

“it’s common sense” (in reference to his comment abt quinn to new jersey) 💀

“i know [quinn] likes it here; he’s been a canuck since he turned pro…we have lots of time to figure this out”

on improving the roster:

with the parity in the league, only takes one or two of the right players to rise in the standings

“just getting chytil and pettersson back in the lineup is going to make a difference” (in reference to their injuries at the end of the season)

open to all options to make this team better

they already get calls about their defence in regard to trades because teams are aware of their depth — it’s an area where they could possibly move a player to improve their forward group

on petey:

preparation biggest thing for petey

says petey didn’t have a good offseason; admits that he had a couple of physical issues (but somehow makes it sound as if those were all meaningless reasons and it’s all petey’s fault.)

he was working hard for the 7-10 days he stayed in van which was good to see

rutherford feels petey’s injuries are behind him so shouldn’t be an issue, and if he has a good offseason there’s no doubt he’ll bounce back

strained relationship this season with miller was difficult on petey — “it appears that it just wore him down and he wasn’t strong enough to get through it this season” (hey jim i’m blowing you up with my mind)

on getting new players/attracting them to van:

“everybody should feel honoured to play in a canadian market and a market like vancouver”

would prefer to improve roster via free agency but top UFA players are limited and most teams have cap space, and because a trade is something they can control that’s the most likely avenue

going to be in the free agent market if they still have cap space, but they might be done before that if they’ve already made trades

started talking abt states with low taxes, but there are ways around the higher taxes lmao

says that sometimes when they trade players, they realize months later how much they like it here and wish they could have worked out

final pieces:

when asked abt confidence they can bounce back he says the 2 big issues last year were dressing room chemistry and key injuries; says the first is something he’s confident they can overcome but can’t guarantee the second obviously

when asked about how he thinks he’d review the 4 years he’s been here, rutherford says he wishes he’d done a better job by this point and thought the team would be in a stronger position, but it was a big setback “when we had the two players who couldn’t figure out how to get along” (ok girl it’s time to be quiet)

[damn-stark]

Chapter 12 Into the woods

Chapter 12 of Tragedy at the Miller’s

A/N- okay but I kinda really love how this chapter turned out.

Warning- fluff?, ANGST, talks of violence and death, talks of suicide attempt , spoilers for season 2, Remember this is a rewrite not an AU, so the major stuff that happens in the show will happen here :)

Pairing- Joel Miller x daughter!reader (platonic of course :), OC x Fem!reader

Episode- 2x03-2x04

(If you want to be tagged let me know!)

————

“We went to make them pay. Sorry we had to do this the hard way, but you didn’t leave us no other choice. We asked and you turned us down. Now you have to trust that we will come back.

-Dina and Ellie”

“It was stuck to her door?” You ask as you lift the note and show it off to Jesse, who has read it over and over again as if that would bring them both back, or make it any less surprising. It didn’t.

“Yes,” Jesse answers hesitantly as he looks at you with pity and concern, and then flickers his eyes to Apollo with shame. “I’m sorry I came here so early. I really am. I just,” he pauses and focuses on Apollo as if ready to hear his friend get mad at him for involving you, but Jesse shouldn’t worry about Apollo. It’s your Uncle Tommy he should worry about. He seems more bothered by the fact that Jesse chose to come to you instead of just privately going to him. After all, you just barely started talking and getting out of the house; this could mortify you more.

“I thought you needed to know,” Jesse explains his reasoning, but doesn’t make it sound any better to your Uncle. If he had the chance to lie to you about this, he would’ve chosen that because as he looks over at you, he sees you set the note down and drop your face in your palms to try and gather your racing thoughts that don't leave you groggy. You’re left wide awake after reading Ellie’s note—or should you say Dina’s note, there’s no way Ellie would have written so much down. She would’ve made it short and straight to the point.

“I mean, I know they’re both reckless, but to do this? This is something completely beyond reckless and stupid.” Jesse adds, as you start rubbing your temple and revisit what Ellie said, because she’s right, you’re late. Too weak. You knew she was up to something stupid, and you didn’t stop her. You’re too late.

“What do we do with this now?” Jesse keeps filling the silence while Apollo is more worried about how you’re going to take this since you’re being quiet.

“Maybe we can still stop them, or,” Jesse pauses and sighs deeply, choosing to stay quiet instead of finishing what he was going to say.

“Or what?” You finally speak and drop one hand off your face, letting it smack against the dinner table.

“Go after them. I mean,” Jesse goes on hesitantly. “Knowing Ellie, we won’t be able to bring her back now, but maybe we can go after her. Save her and Dina from getting killed.”

Going after her was the first thing you thought of because you know, just like Jesse, that trying to bring Ellie back would be impossible. She’s put her mind to a mission, and it’d be hell to try and convince her to come back.

However, among the many other reasons not to go, you share the most important one that you think about the most. “I’d be the last person she would want after her,” you mumble, piquing all three men’s interest.

“We got into an argument yesterday after the meeting,” you share, and avert your gaze by looking at the note again. “I won’t go into detail, but she basically told me that she never wants to see me again.”

Jesse lifts his eyebrow, expecting more since he doesn’t know the depth of your argument or the hurtful things she said, since you don’t want to badmouth her.

“So you’re going to listen to her?” Jesse asks with disbelief, interrupting your uncle before he can speak up.

“I,” you pause and sit up straight before you take a deep breath and meet his gaze. “I don’t know. I mean, she made her choice. Who am I to stop her? I already tried. I told her not to go, that there is no point, but she got mad.” You say with frustration about your own failures, and because even if you understand that Ellie was mad, the things she said still deeply hurt.

It was the same when you were young. You’d try to help, but you’d always get yelled at and hurt. Only this time it hurts so much worse because it makes you want to die.

It's no exaggeration, that’s the truth, because it’s a truth that is tearing away at you as you speak.

“You’re her sister,” Jesse argues without an ounce of hesitation or shame—“isn’t that point enough? Regardless of what she said?”

You stay quiet and glance at Apollo this time as you think about your other reason not to go.

You have a family now. You can’t just abruptly leave for something that doesn’t guarantee you’ll make it back. They don’t deserve that, and you can’t just do that to them. But Jesse is also right…Ellie is your sister. Would your dad stop from going after her even if she said hurtful things to him?

He would go in a heartbeat, so you…should do the same to help the girl you love, but…there’s so many reasons telling you to stay.

“It is point enough,” your uncle finally chimes in for you and looks at you ever so softly as if a look alone could cause you harm. “Of course, Sunny of all people knows that the words our siblings say at the heat of the moment don’t mean anything, but it’s not easy. For either of us. We can’t just grab a backpack and leave the moment we decide to. Maybe you get that, Jesse, or maybe you don’t. Maybe a couple of years down the line, you’ll realize, but either way, we can’t be as bold with our choices as you.”

Jesse drops his head with shame, and your Uncle leans towards you with even more tenderness. “Don’t break your head over what you want to do. I’ll give you…until tomorrow to think about it.” He says and pats the empty space on the table.

You slowly meet his gaze and feel relieved by his suggestion, and feel that pressure to know what to do decreasing. Yet it doesn’t all vanish.

“Will you go?” You ask your Uncle, knowing Jesse wasn’t asking for permission but more so support before he left.

“I,” your uncle pauses and sits back with his eyes flickering away. “…Don’t know. I’ll think about it too,” he says without looking at you once, but you never give that too much thought.

“Can we really risk being two days behind them?” Jesse blurts, causing your Uncle to snap his gaze to him.

“It’s a risk we have to take and can fix if we choose to go,” your uncle mutters before looking over at you and finding your gaze again. “A day, hm?” He repeats and looks between you and Jesse.

“Okay,” You nod stiffly.

Jesse waits a moment to see if you’ll add anything else, but you go quiet, and your Uncle gets up and looks at him before pointing his head at the door.

“I’m going to head out now,” your Uncle announces as Jesse gets up from his seat. “You think about it.”

You nod again, and Jesse interjects. “Again, I’m sorry I came over so abruptly,” he says, making you drift your eyes to watch him.

“We already told you, it’s okay,” Apollo reassures the young man as he gets off of his chair.

“I’ll go find you later,” you assure Jesse and your Uncle, making Jesse nod in comprehension and making your Uncle linger back before he follows Jesse out of the house, making Apollo see them out.

When Apollo comes back to the dining room, he sees you in the same spot, but this time you have the letter in your hand and you’re reading the letter again with a deep sorrow in your eyes.

“What are we plannin’ to do?” Apollo asks now that you’re in the comfort of each other's privacy.

“I…genuinely don’t know,” you confess and drop the letter to look at him. “A part of me is telling me to go. She’s my sister and she’s risking her life in this cruel world, so even if she says that she doesn’t want to see me again, she still needs me.”

“Tommy is right, when we say we don’t want to see our siblings again, we don't mean it,” Apollo tries to comfort your bleeding heart as he sits across from you to be able to take your hands in his. “She’s mad, but she hasn’t forsaken you.”

You look at him, teary-eyed eyed and finally share everything she told you yesterday. “She said she hated me, Apollo. And maybe I deserve to be hated, I lied, but…how will we go back to what we were? How will she forgive me?”

Apollo sighs and, with a pitiful frown, says a hurtful truth. “You won’t ever get back what you had, but you can get past it. You will get past it.”

You let out a shaky breath and drop your head before you wipe the tears off your face, causing him to caress your knuckles and look at you with more pity.

You’re starting to hate all this pity.

“Another part of me is telling me not to go,” you cut in. “Not for any petty reason, but it’s not as easy as before, you know.” You breathe out deeply.

Apollo nods in agreement before he interjects. “Think about it like Tommy said,” he says without the reassurance that he’ll support whatever choice you make because deep down he hopes you won’t go. He’ll understand if you want to, but it’s like you said, it’s not as easy as before.

“I will, hopefully by today, I don’t want to leave Jesse waiting or have the girls get too ahead,” you say, and let that take over your every waking thought. How could you think about anything else with such a heavy and hard choice to make?

You go out to your garden to think, but you don’t come out with your mind made up, so you try to keep busy inside your house, but nothing comes to mind. You then go for a long walk, hoping that will help you, but you keep debating with yourself. The only thing you end up doing is ending up in front of your dad’s abandoned house.

You don’t know what led you there; whether it’s because of instinct, or because deep down you wanted to come visit his house to find an answer, you don’t know. You just know you’re in front of the driveway, hoping once again that you’ll find him on his porch, but…he’s not there. You can’t even be reassured by the fact that Ellie is in the garage because she’s gone too.

The house is alone. Lifeless and abandoned, with only memories of what was haunting the dust-covered halls.

Even so, as depressing as that is, you still step foot past the threshold that once kept you away, and make your way to the front door.

When you reach the door, you lift your hand with the intention to knock, but you remember that no one is inside, so before you can overthink the matter, you grab the doorknob and open the door.

What once was a warm place lively with comfort, now is a sad reminder of who you lost. Now, there’s no father to welcome you inside, and the smell of coffee doesn’t waft in your nose.

Usually, the lights inside the house were hardly on; he didn’t excessively brighten his house like you or Ellie do, but a light was usually on. Now, there’s only a dull light that fills the house because the sun hides under thick clouds.

Even so, you don’t turn to walk away. For the first time since he died, you step foot inside the house and close the door behind you, expecting nothing; no greeting, no head peeking around a corner, and no distant voice telling you where he is, but oh, the house comes alive with memory.

In the living room, you hear snoring as the TV quietly plays, so you follow the noise and on the lazy-boy, you see the memory of your dad asleep with your infant son asleep in his arms.

In the dining room you hear the commotion of faint laughter, metal clinking against plates, and different conversations across the table, and when you walk to the room, you see a warm light brightening the room and your family dining without a worry, almost as if life held no monsters and everything was normal.

You want to relive just one night. You want to have dinner with the whole of your family again and make one more memory, but the kitchen calls you. The memory of coffee brewing in the kitchen lures you over, and here to keep you company is the memory of you and your dad cooking and doing the dishes as you yapped away and he listened to every word.

A part of you wants to stay to be able to relive through those fond memories, but heavy footsteps thump in the hall, growing more distant as they get further away, so before you can get left behind, you follow after those heavy footsteps and end up at the foot of the stairs.

The haunting footsteps continue to echo on the second floor, but you’re in no rush since you get distracted by the photos your dad hung on the wall going up the stairs.

The first and most recent photo you study is a picture of your dad holding Teddy, who is looking away, but still relaxed in your dad's arms. The next photo you see when you go up a couple of stairs is one of you and all of your family gathered around the table. Ellie and your dad didn’t talk by then so they were at opposite ends, but they were still captured in the same photo, making it seem, without context, that they were a strong united front. If only it were true…

Nevertheless, you move up and the next photo keeps you put longer than the other ones because it’s one of you, Apollo, and your Dad on your wedding day. Your dad was in the middle, keeping you and your husband apart because the old man had a hard time accepting that his youngest daughter was all grown up.

It was funny then, but the memory is even funnier now.

Regardless, you reach the second floor and an end table decorates the end of the hall, holding different pictures and trinkets, but most importantly, it holds a happy picture of you, your dad, and Ellie captured on Ellie’s special birthday trip.

It was a long time ago, and it was the first trip you had together after the big adventure that brought you all together. It's a memory that should help you come up with a decision, but the truth is that you only get more upset over who you lost. So you move on instead, clueless as to what you want to do.

The next place you find yourself in is not Ellie’s bare room. You walk past her room and walk directly into your dad's room, feeling your heart crush when you walk into an empty room holding only memories of him. Not him sleeping on the bed, just an empty room and an empty bed holding a single box.

You grow curious about what the box could possibly contain, so you walk to it, feeling tears fall off your chin and get left on the floor as you hastily reach the bed. Once you get to the box, you don’t hesitate to open it, revealing to yourself that it’s his belongings he had on him when he…died.

There isn't a lot in the box, but you still only drive your focus to his broken watch that he refused to part with, not because it was a trusty gadget that told time, no, the old thing is broken. Which should be a reason to have abandoned it a long time ago, but the watch was a reminder of Sarah, and the last thing he ever gifted her. That’s why he kept it with him at all times, because it felt like carrying her with him.

Why would they make him part with it? Why didn’t they bury him with it?

If only you had been there. You would’ve made sure they were buried together, but…you weren’t there. You didn’t say your last goodbye…

…to either of them…now they’re both gone and you’re here, living on without them. Why?

“Why?” You ask yourself as you clutch onto your dad's broken watch before you turn to look at a picture your dad has on his nightstand, one of before the outbreak. A picture of you, Sarah, and him before the world ended, and where you were happy together.

You want to be with them again, more than anything else in this world. That’s what you want, and that desire, the picture, and the memory it brings, finally lets you come up with an answer.

Thus, you tuck the watch in your pocket and leave the house to go find Jesse first, since he’s more eager to leave.

Luckily, it’s not hard to locate him. You find him in the first place you check; his house, but there with him is your Uncle. They were looking over a map together.

“I decided,” you cut in abruptly, skipping past greetings and asking for explanations. “I’m going.”

“Sunny,” your Uncle Tommy finally parts from the table and approaches you, causing Jesse to back away.

You stay where you are and let your Uncle approach you so he can see how your face contorts with betrayal and frustration.

“I said I’m going,” you cut in confidently. “You can fight me or accept my choice. I'd rather you accept it because by the looks of it we’ll only have a hard time if you don’t.”

Your Uncle sighs and drops his head. “I was just looking out for you,” he explains without as much trouble as it would’ve given your dad to explain. “I’m just worried about you. You’re only now gettin’ better and you have Teddy and Apollo, and I—”

“You were selfish,” you cut him off and step towards him to tilt your head down so he can meet your gaze. “You have Benji and Maria, too, so where’s the difference in that? I can do it,” you proclaim. “I will do it because she’s my sister and she needs me.”

Your Uncle lifts his head, and you follow his movements so as not to lose his gaze. “Meet at my house when you’re done here. We leave today,” you say without giving more explanations.

“Are you sure?” Jesse asks for his own sake.

You look at him over your Uncle’s shoulder and nod stiffly before you step away from his front door. “Positive,” you assure him and then pass him a helpful comment. “Pack the necessities you have at your house. I’ll take care of the rest.”

He offers you a comprehensive nod, so you then face your Uncle and press again to not be at odds. “You go. I go. Simple as that. I’m…okay.”

Your Uncle takes a moment to process that, knowing you too well as to accept that right away, but you're as stubborn as your dad when you want to be, so he chooses to trust you now and gives in. “Alright.”

The corner of your lips tugs up faintly before you then leave and return home with your mind made up, but your heart heavy.

“Apollo?” You call out after you close the front door, but you don’t hear a response, so you walk further inside and check the kitchen and the living room, but he’s not there. You proceed to check the rooms, but he’s not in any and Teddy is not inside either.

Could they be out in town? Maybe.

Yet before you can assume that possibility, you check the backyard, and much to your luck, there they are in the wildflower garden along with your dog Hermes.

You almost don’t want to disturb their peace. You could admire them forever, but you don’t want to risk Jesse getting here and telling Apollo the choice you made, so after a couple of lingering minutes, you join your boys and your dog outside, earning happy reactions from the both of them.

“Ma!” Teddy exclaims and tries to walk to you, but you reach him first and swiftly sweep him off the floor with a beaming grin.

“Hey, cowboy,” you greet and kiss his forehead before you pull your head back as he shows you a single flower he picked. “Oh, would you look at that? Is that for me or you?”

Teddy brings the flower back towards him and stares at it for a moment before he accidentally drops it, making him squirm, so you end up putting him down so he can keep doing whatever it was that he was doing along with Hermes, and so you can take a seat next to Apollo on the bench swing.

“I finally made my choice,” you don’t delay the matter a moment longer, making him pick his eyes off Teddy to look at you nervously. “I’m going. Today.”

There’s no talk about a passionate motivation to go help Ellie from mortal danger. He, of course, thinks he knows why you’re going, and it makes your choice hard to swallow. Not because he doesn’t want you to help Ellie, but because it’s not so simple anymore.

“It seems that my Uncle and Jesse weren’t planning to have me go, but I caught them in time,” you share, but don’t catch Apollo by surprise because he had noticed your Uncle’s intentions from the moment the letter was shared—“So we leave today, just my Uncle, Jesse, and me,” you clarify, but get no big reaction from Apollo. He drops his gaze and sighs before he finally lets his thoughts be heard.

“Yeah, I…didn’t plan to be a part of the trip,” he confesses, leaving you more surprised than he was with what you just told him.

“We have Teddy,” he continues, making you look over at your son with guilt. “One of us has to stay with him. Why should we risk his life, or risk him being left…an orphan if Jackson is safe and one parent who can stay with him?”

You gulp as your guilt digs itself deeper, causing more ache.

“I wish I could go, but one of us has to stay with him, and as much as I wish it was you, I know this mission is important to you,” he continues to clarify his decision and turns his head to look at you while you keep watching Teddy as you try to take advantage of the time you have with him before you have to leave.

“That’s the only reason I’m even supporting it,” he says, and finally brings your eyes back to him. “I just,” he pauses and draws out a heavy breath. “Don’t know how many long goodbyes I have left in me.”

As if you had your breath stolen by him, you gasp softly and look at him with disbelief.

“I love you,” he quickly explains as he sees your reaction. “But things are different now. We have a son. A life together and…I don’t think it’s fair to me or him to uproot it for a trip that may or may not bring you back.”

You avert your gaze and clench your hands into fists.

“You know how much it hurts when people leave you behind,” he points out, making your heart skip a beat while also almost changing your mind. But it’s not enough because your dad's death is in the back of your mind like a plague.

“I do know,” you mumble and look back at him with reassurance. “I wouldn’t be leaving either if it wasn’t for Ellie, but…she…needs me,” you finally repeat your reason for leaving. “Whether she wants my help or not. I owe it to him to try.”

Apollo hums, and you take his hands to make one thing clear.

“But I also know I can’t water dead plants. I know my dad would never stop going after her, but I do know when to stop…there'll be no more long goodbyes after this one.” You clarify, making a soft smile tug on his lips.

“Okay,” he whispers before you let his hands go to wrap him in a tight embrace as if you were already saying your goodbyes when it won’t be for another little while.

“You are the best friend and best husband anyone could ask for,” you tell him as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. “I’m so lucky to have met you. I love you…with all of me.” You say against his flesh, making him grin and hold you tightly against him, to the point you find comfort in his steady heartbeat.

“I love you too,” he redirects. “You are loved so so much, so please come back, okay?”

You pick your face off his neck and rest your chin on his shoulder before you whisper back. “Okay.”

With no promise made and your first round of goodbyes shared, you then continue to watch Teddy play outside for a while longer until you have to go inside to get ready.

About halfway into packing the necessities you have in your house, Jesse and your Uncle finally meet up at your house and wait for a little while, but not as long as they assumed.

“You’re both carrying light,” Jesse points out as he sees that your backpack looks as light as your Uncle’s.

“For now,” you leave him more curious.

“Now,” your Uncle interjects. “It’s night now, so it’s the perfect time to get our horses and sneak out so as not to raise questions, okay? So just act normal.” He says without worry and expects you and Jesse to look the same, but Jesse looks lost.

“What about weapons? Are we just going to stroll in the armory and take what we need? Those are locked.” Jesse asks the most important question. “And food?”

You share a knowing look with your Uncle and Apollo before you decide to tell Jesse the secret early. “We have all that a couple of miles out of Jackson.”

Jesse blinks in disbelief, so you explain yourself further.

“Jackson is home. Jackson is safe, but we’ve been around long enough, and early in our years, we knew this man named Bill. He was…what my Daddy called an end-of-the-world prepper, so to make this story short, he warned my dad to always have an escape plan if we found ourselves in communities, especially because he had a daughter. My dad took that to heart, and he did exactly that. An escape plan.” You reveal with a smug smirk. “He hid a cache just outside of Jackson that he let a few of us know about.”

Jesse scoffs, and before he can feel proud over your father's genius plan, he asks one more question that immediately comes to mind. “Ellie left first. I’m pretty sure she emptied that.”

You scoff. “You really think we would let Ellie know?” You remark lightheartedly. “She would have emptied that a long time ago, knowing her, so we didn’t tell her. Weapons, food, flashlights, and everything we need is already there. I'm assuming you have a path mapped out,” you point out with a hint of annoyance, making your Uncle sigh deeply before he has no choice but to agree.

“We do, we just need to go collect our cache. So it begs the question, are you two ready to go?”

Without hesitation or anything holding you back, you nod to give him an answer before you confirm it verbally. “I’m ready.”

Jesse nods in agreement without so much as doubt, but what follows holds you back, so before you can leave, you turn to Apollo, but not with sorrow and uncertainty to leave. You look at him softly and completely enamored. “I love you. Always.”

He smiles back at you tenderly and without caring that you have company so close by; he smacks his lips on yours and steals a kiss.

Knowing this kiss will be your last, you capture his jaw to press him closer and spark a passion that makes you move ravenously. You almost don't have the heart or will to break away, but you taste a salty tear mix in your passion, so you pull away, but keep him close to take note of every feature on his face.

“I’ll be here. Waiting,” he says, pulling more tears out of your eyes. “My love. My world. My light.”

You smile at him tenderly and have to steal one last kiss.

Before you can part to give your son your goodbyes, you reach inside your shirt and pull out his old Firefly pendant to assure him. “I’ll have you close. Always.”

He scoffs softly and looks away shyly, letting you then move away to find your son in the living room playing on the floor with his toys.

“Take care of each other,” you hear Apollo tell Jesse while you go on your knees to grab your son's attention.

“Teddy, I’m going to be leaving now, okay?” You tell your son who is cluelessly gripping onto his toys. “You’re gonna be stayin’ with your Daddy, so you be good to him, okay?”

The baby blabbers and offers you his toy giraffe, so you take it and press it against your chest. “I’ll keep you close, okay?”

Teddy asks for his toy back, so you give it back with a giggle and then lean in to hug him tightly, causing him to laugh in response.

“I love you, my Theo,” you whisper. “Don’t forget me.”

Teddy stays in your embrace until you let go, and before you can completely part from him, you face him one last time and then force yourself away to make your way to the front door with Jesse and your Uncle trailing after you, and Apollo trailing after them.

Once you reach the door, you give Apollo one last embrace because if he went to see you off at the gate, people would grow suspicious, so he sees you to the door instead.

“Ready?” Your Uncle asks one last time as you face your traveling partners.

“Ready,” you and Jesse answer at the same time with confidence and determination

——

*A COUPLE WEEKS LATER*

Thanks to your travel experience, you were able to help with some kinks to your Uncle and Jesse’s initial path to Seattle to avoid as many potential obstacles as possible. It is hard to know if you’ll come across something as small as a camp or as big as a town, but you avoid cities, highways, and freeways and stick to the woods and backroads where people usually don’t settle, and infected are least likely to roam.

Luckily, it’s just three of you, so you’re least likely to catch anyone’s attention. You don’t have a dog to help you with what you humans can't catch, but you don’t stop to loot anywhere and are never too loud or keep the light on too long. It’s not because you just set up camp to simply eat and sleep; you make conversation, you share stories, and laugh at jokes. You never disagree with one another because Jesse respects the plans of more experienced travelers, and you trust your Uncle, and he trusts you, but there, between both men and you, is a threshold.

Your Uncle sees it, but he doesn’t want to cross it. He gives you space because he thinks that’s the answer, and he likes to think he knows you more than he knows himself, but Jesse is different; he can see what your Uncle is failing to catch. It would be impossible not to, since you're on the road with no one but each other, but instead of getting closer on this trip, there’s always a barrier between them and you, and he can feel it.

Maybe it is because you’ve been on the road with only each other as company, so it’d be hard to miss, but it’s almost so thick that Jesse swears he can almost touch it with the pads of his fingers. It’s where you keep the person you really are and every emotion that riddles that you.

As much as Jesse wants to cross that threshold, though, you never let him cross it. You keep him and your Uncle at the other side and let them see an unusual bliss that feels inorganic.

“I see something brown,” you share, making Jesse search the area around you before he examines the sky to try and find what you spotted, making it the perfect game to keep you and Jesse entertained while also working to search the area for anything suspicious.

“That hawk circling the area over there,” Jesse points out exactly what you had seen.

“Yes,” you praise him with a smile. “A red-tailed hawk, if I remember correctly, right, Uncle Tommy?”

Said man searches the sky until he finds the distant fella and shrugs. “I wouldn’t know anymore. I only made you memorize them so we could get some teaching in while on the road.”

You groan and then look back at Jesse and add on. “Either way, it’s not very good to eat.”

Jesse scoffs with curiosity twinkling in his eyes. “Before or after?” He asks, referring to before Jackson or on your nationwide road trip.

“Before,” you let him know, and turn your eyes away from the sky when the hawk is out of view. “Of course, my Uncle Tommy, here, caught it. I helped…kinda. It moved too much for me, so we didn’t want to risk it then, but I helped locate it after we hunted it down.”

���Pretty much the same thing,” he jokes, making you giggle.

“I’ll say. Okay,” you focus back on the game. “Now you. Go. Last one. Make it hard.”

Jesse hums and his eyes search high up in the tall trees and down low at the horses you ride before looking at every green bush, colored plant, grey rock, and anything else you have yet to cross and that surrounds you until his eyes seem to lock on something.

You try to pinpoint what it is by following his line of gaze and blurting the first thing you see. “Fern!”

Jesse rolls his eyes and turns his attention to you. “No. Not close. Something…you can slip on if you are not careful.”

You press your lips together and search the area he had focused on to try and find what he said with the clue he gave. However, there’s no mud because it hasn't rained. There’s no moss that you can see. You can’t see flat rocks on the ground or any twigs that can get caught under your shoe.

“Bark?” You ask hesitantly.

A faint smirk tugs on his lips before he shakes his head. “No. Listen.”

You strain your ear and catch the call of the same Red-tailed hawk in the distance. You hear different birds chirping, and past that, you hear a rush of water, but you can’t see it.

That can’t be it.

“A river?” You ask with confusion, and as unsure as you are of your response, Jesse actually nods.

“Yeah.”

“Well,” you smack your lips. “That ain’t close. I mean, I can’t see it.”

Your Uncle chuckles from the front of the caravan, and Jesse shakes his head with the smug smile still attached to his face. “Nope, but it’s not I-spy. We just have to find what the other person points out.” He says cockily, so you roll your eyes and sigh deeply.

“Whatever,” you grumble and then nudge your horse to pick up her pace and take the lead to reach the river faster. “We should fill up our bottles and let the horses hydrate,” you share your thoughts with the men who don't question you. After all, you won’t come across another body of water today or tomorrow.

Yet when you reach the river, you find out that it was loud enough to be heard from afar for a reason; the water is running faster, and it's higher than it should be.

“Melting snow and the recent storm?” Jesse asks for reassurance, so you and your Uncle give it to him because that is the only reason the water is so high.

“Yep.” You sigh.

Luckily, a wide tree has fallen over the river, so you will save time and energy by crossing to reach the other side, but how steady is it against the rushing water is the important question.

“We’ll cross one by one,” your Uncle suggests as you keep your eyes on the fallen tree to see if it’ll move.

“But don’t get off your horse. Just keep the pace slow and steady,” your Uncle adds. “Questions?”

You shake your head, and Jesse turns his head to look at him, but doesn’t give any notes. “Yeah. That sounds good. I trust you.”

You draw out a deep breath and nod along. “Me too,” you echo and then look back at the tree before you interject. “Jesse, you go first.”

Your Uncle and Jesse look at you, and they get ready to argue, but you snap your eyes to Jesse and insist. “Go. I’ll go right after you. Just don’t look back. Eyes forward and don’t panic or the horse will panic, hm?”

Jesse finds your insistence to go first annoying because he wants you to get across safely first, just in case something goes wrong, but there’s no point arguing. Thus, before you can waste any more time, Jesse nudges his horse and moves forward.

At first, the horse seems hesitant to climb on the tree because the river is loud and walking on a tree hasn’t been common for them to do, but after some sweet and quiet comforting from Jesse, the horse climbs on and slowly begins to take Jesse across.

You stay behind and don’t dare to move an inch because you don’t want to risk spooking his horse or even moving a pebble on the ground, in case that somehow makes the tree move.

You hold your breath and grow more tense by the second. A part of you wants to rush Jesse so he can get across as soon as possible, but the other part of you is logical and keeps you quiet as you watch every step with laser focus.

No part of you is at ease until finally, Jesse reaches the other side successfully.

“Great job!” You praise and clap for both the horse and him.

“Thank you, now come across,” he urges you without really soaking in the great achievement so as not to risk anything changing in the tree's stability or the rushing water.

Your Uncle takes that under consideration and presses you, too. “You heard him. Go. I’m right behind you. Nice and slow.”

You glance at him and nod in comprehension, but you don’t hesitate or take any of their warnings under consideration. What used to worry you and keep you tense doesn’t affect you now that it’s your turn. You don’t rush across. You take it slow and ease your horse on the tree, but you don’t hold the same anxiety that you noticed in Jesse when he crossed.

You don’t hold a sense of cockiness either. You just don’t care when it comes to you crossing. Maybe that’s what changed when you cross, or maybe it was just the rushing water smacking against the tree. Either way, the movement is small at first, it makes your heart skip a beat, and it makes Jesse and your Uncle move their horses forward.

The second time the tree moves, your horse slips. Yet you don’t react with fear and scream for help when you crash into the water and fall off your horse. You don’t panic when the force of the water shoves you under its angry waves either.

You feel a sense of relief, and when you hit the back of your head against a rock on the river floor, there’s ecstasy that rushes through your blood seconds before it all goes black.

At first, you expect the darkness to be fleeting. You expect to wake up and see the cloudy sky, but when you open your eyes, that ecstasy runs faster when you see your house.

Not your small yellow house in Jackson, no. You’re in front of your house in Austin, Texas. You’re home, and it’s just as you left it before the outbreak. Nothing is overgrown, the windows aren’t broken, and the roof isn’t crumbling. It’s in a perfect state, and you don’t question why it’s so.

You don’t even ask why you’re standing in front of it. You just grin with genuine glee and cut across the lawn. When you reach the door, you hesitate to steady your heartbeat before you open the door and immediately get greeted by everything you once knew.

Everything is the same. Nothing is out of place, not a pillow on the couch, and not a speck of dust. The one difference is that the sun shines through the windows, brightening and warming up the living room. Oh, and there’s a smell. A good smell that awakens your appetite, so you follow it across the living room and into the kitchen, noticing right away that it’s lively past the back door. There’s a long picnic table outside adorned with a simple yet cute white tablecloth, and plates and silverware are set on top of it waiting to be used.

Who did all this? You ask yourself, and slowly walk to the back door to try and see who’s outside.

Yet before you can even reach for the door, someone walks up to the door, someone you spent missing longer than you knew them. Someone you often think about and frequently miss. Someone sweet and beautiful, Sarah.

She’s in a nice sun dress that complements her skin. She dons a small amount of mascara, a pink lip gloss that makes her lips shiny, and when she reaches the door and faces you, she offers you her incredible smile that drives you to her without even thinking about it.

You should have. You should have hesitated opening the door and stepping outside, but you’re too happy and too ready to even hesitate. You just throw your arms around your sister again and hold her close.

“Sarah,” you whisper with a break in your voice as tears fill your eyes. “I missed you,” you add, and feel her hold you back.

“Me too,” she says sweetly, and it’s those words alone that make you feel safe again. Like the world couldn’t hurt you, and you were invincible. You felt like a little girl again back in 2003, and you enjoyed it. You made yourself at home in your sister's embrace in this peaceful afterlife.

“I…I really missed you,” you express yourself again before you pull back and face her sweet and young face, catching your reflection in her light, earthy eyes and seeing your face unchanged. You're just all dolled up in a sundress, just like her.

“I’m still older,” she reminds you, and you don’t deny her.

You laugh and assure her.

“Always,” you say, and then from one moment to another, the sound of a giggle steals your attention. When you look over, tending to the grill is a woman with her back turned to you, so you can’t take note of her face, you just see her hair and the color of her skin, but after that, it’s easy to guess that it’s your mother.

You don’t need to see her face, you know for certain because next to her is your dad.

“Daddy,” you call out with a quiver, and as said man turns to give you his attention, you march over there, but don’t embrace him like you did with Sarah. You face him with your face pampered with tears and immediately try to share your pain.

“Daddy, I’m…it…I’m sorry.” You cry while said man stays quiet, but grabs your shoulders to make you meet his gaze before he wipes away your tears.

“Come sit,” you hear Sarah say from the other end of the table. “The food is ready.”

You hold your dad's gaze, but he quickly looks away to point at an empty seat at the end of the table with a name card you can’t read. Nor do you intend to read right now.

You part from your dad and once again, without hesitation, you follow Sarah and sit at the end of the table next to her. There’s no question about it, and you don’t look back for anyone. You just take your seat and wait, seeing your dad sitting at the other end of the table across from you before the food comes. He then looks at an empty seat next to him and this time you read the name card, ‘Ellie Williams.’.

You gasp and feel a pull. At last, in the bliss, there’s a pull.

Yet you forget all about it when the woman at the grill finally turns and shows you a face you have only seen in pictures; your mother.

She turns with the food in her hands and walks over to you first to serve you.

“Mama,” you whisper happily, earning a sweet smile that makes you want to stay even more so you can keep seeing her smile. You don't want to leave. You want to stay here with her, Sarah, and your dad. It’s a choice, and you want to take it. You’re ready. It’s why you came on this trip, to reunite with them. It wasn’t Ellie who brought you on this trip; it was the need to be with your family, and you’re finally with them. Now, every muscle in your body is telling you not to look back.

Albeit as your mother walks away, you follow her with your eyes and in doing so, you catch the other empty chairs with name cards of their own.

Next to you on your left is ‘Theo Holloway.’ Next to him and in the middle is ‘Apollo Holloway’, and of course, next to him is Ellie.

Their seats are empty, and they will be empty for a while.

That thought makes you feel that pull stronger than before, but you’re still hesitant because of Sarah and your mother. You want to stay with them and him too, but when you look at him, without saying it, he’s urging you to go back.

“Please,” he finally speaks with tears welling in his eyes.

“But,” you try to argue, but stop to look at the empty seats again. “What good am I there?” You ask and look at him again. “I couldn’t save you. You’re dead because of me, and I…couldn't handle the weight of it. It was crushing me. I feel…weightless here. Happy. Please let me stay. I want to stay.”

You will. It’s your choice and you’re making it…

But there’s also Ellie…if you can’t handle the weight, how is she fairing? Dina was there when your dad died, but she can’t possibly feel the same crushing weight or the same heartache that never stops hurting. Only you and Ellie know that feeling, and if you stay…she has no one…

Damn it…

“Daddy,” you say softly, and without saying it he finally smiles at you, making that gesture and his face be the last thing you see before it’s all taken away and you’re in that lodge, seeing him die again for a fleeting second before you’re transported back to life panicked and surrounded by dark rushing water for a moment before you’re yanked out and thrown on the ground where you cough out water and try to draw in the air that will keep you alive.

“Oh, thank god!” Jesse gasps while your uncle grabs your arm to sit you up to pat your back to help you get all the water out.

Once you’ve gathered your breath and stopped with your coughing fit, your uncle throws his arms around you, feeling all the weight of the world rise off his shoulders as he sees that you’re okay now.

“Thank god,” he whispers. “I thought I lost ya there for a second.”

You rest your chin on his shoulder and look anything but relieved.

That feeling will pass, but right now you’re more disappointed than grateful because you got taken away from everything you wanted. Peace, bliss, and your home.

Still, your uncle doesn’t notice that, but Jesse does. He just doesn’t say anything on the matter and instead watches you look ahead blankly whilst you relish in your Uncle's embrace.

“You might have a concussion, so let’s call today a day. There seems to be a town nearby. We can find some to hold up there,” your uncle suggests as he pulls away from the embrace to very swiftly walk around you to check on your head as if rehearsed, or fallen back to old habits from your early years traveling together.

“It’s abandoned,” you input, and let your Uncle check on you, realizing that at that moment, your horse is alive, just soaked and unharmed. You got the worst of the fall. “At least the last time I passed it was. I didn’t even encounter any infected.”

“But it doesn’t mean there isn’t any,” Jesse interjects, making your uncle agree.

“That’s true. What’s the last place you stayed at, Sunny?” Your Uncle asks as he moves away to grab the blanket off his horse to wrap it around you.

“No,” you shake your head. “We didn’t stay. We passed by, but I did see a bank. A pretty big one. It could have a vault.”

Your uncle stays quiet for a moment before he nods. “Okay. We’ll check it out. Come on, let’s get you out of those wet clothes so we can go. You don’t have any cuts or anything concerning, but we’ll just have you stay out of any action for a while.”

“Okay,” you agree without a fight and follow him to borrow some clothes since everything you own, even your horse, is soaked.

Once you get yourself situated, you get back on the road and don’t take long to come across the town you talked about, finding it empty of any people and infected. Or at least, the infected aren’t roaming the streets. If people were here, it’d be obvious, instead, it’s a ghost town, and that raises the hairs on the back of your neck rather than making you feel relaxed.

It's a good thing you stick to the bank and don’t take time to explore a thing, who knows what monsters lurk in the shadows.

“The horses look like they fit through the rubble,” your uncle Tommy lets you and Jesse know before he walks out to grab his horse's reins and leads her inside.

You don’t doubt your Uncle, so you follow behind him with your horse, and then Jesse trails after you.

When you’re inside and making your way further inside the bank, you can’t help but be taken aback just a little by the state of the entrance of the bank. It’s one of the few things you like about this new world; man-made things slowly being taken over by Mother Earth. It can be a breathtaking sight, and the entrance of the bank is one of those sights.

The entrance is collapsed in it on itself, letting in only sparse beams of light inside through broken windows and cracks on the cement, leaving it pretty dim, but it’s the right amount of light to let you see how moss and greenery have slowly claimed the destruction, and the way the puddled rain water glimmers on the ground.

“It’d suck to make it this far in our trip and get killed by debris,” Jesse comments as he follows you, and you follow your Uncle through the maze that debris made.

“Don’t worry.” Your Uncle chuckles. “It’s probably been like this for years. It ain't collapsin’ today…maybe.”

You muster a smile, and Jesse feigns a laugh at your Uncle’s very reassuring comment.

“I see a way inside just over there,” your Uncle points out, but you don’t catch what he does right away. You have to walk in just a little further to see the gap he pointed out, and once you do, you and Jesse go completely serious again.

However, before you can walk through the gap to see what the inside holds, your uncle brings you all to a stop to listen first.

You don’t hear anything right away, so your Uncle grabs a pebble and throws it inside, causing two growls to respond, and letting you see a picture of what you could find inside. Albeit it’s blurry since you can’t be sure if it’s just two infected until you’re inside.

“Okay, Jesse, you’ll go in with me and help me take out the infected. Sunny,” he whispers directly at you before you can argue. “You stay here until I come back to give you all the clear, okay?” He presses, and you part your lips to argue, but he cuts in right away.

“I wasn’t askin’ for your opinion. I just wanted to know if you caught all that.”

You huff and challenge his gaze for a second before you nod stiffly.

“Good. Now keep your eyes and ears open,” he reminds you before he turns away and leads the way again. You don’t cross that threshold, but you walk to the edge and peek out, catching a glimpse of Jesse and your Uncle before you hear the nerve-wracking sound of clickers, giving the answer as to what kind of infected the men will be facing, and making you think about disobeying your Uncle.

You believe that both men will be able to handle the clickers, but it doesn't take away from the fact that you’ll be a big advantage.

Yet, you don’t jump down to the ground floor to join them. You stay put and watch them creep away and get out of sight to try and catch the clickers off guard to make as little fuss as possible.

You try to strain your ear, but you can hear the clicking sound of clickers, which is a good thing. It means their plan to sneak up on them is working.

However, it’s because it’s quiet and you’re trying to be even quieter that you hear the sound of rubble falling in the water. At first, you think nothing of it. It must be natural because of the state of this place, but you hear it again, and followed by that is the sound of bare flesh hitting the cement.

It can’t be your horses because you left them near the entrance, plus their hoofs wouldn’t sound like that. It’s…some kind of infected, and basing it off how quiet it is, you’re assuming it’s a Stalker.

You can only be sure if you look, so you slowly reach for your revolver before you very slowly start to churn your head.

Just as you catch a glimpse of its ugly face and prove that it’s in fact a Stalker, suddenly the monster lunges at you, causing you to scream, and since you’re on the ledge, you lose balance and fall inside the bank with your back slamming on the ground and the infected landing on top of you.

The noise of the altercation alerts the clickers, making Jesse and your Uncle have to resort to charging at them instead. All while you try with all your might to hold the Stalker back and keep it from biting you, and honestly, finding a way to get it off you is quite easy. You can do it, but you choose to struggle. You see the potential in letting it take a nip of your flesh and choose to struggle.

And oh, the thought of having no choice but to accept death's comforting embrace is tempting because it means that you would be able to be there again. The peaceful afterlife you left. There would be no choice around it, you would be there again with Sarah, your mom, and most importantly, your dad.

You’d get to apologize for not trying harder this time. You’d remind him that you love him and that no place could ever be home if he wasn’t with you. Most importantly, you’d be able to feel like you aren’t getting choked and crushed by the incredible weight pressing down on you.

You’d be weightless and pain-free…

Yet just as you start to picture that perfect afterlife, the image of Ellie’s empty chair flashes in your mind, and your mind is bombarded with the thought of her.

Guilt and the reminder of why you chose to live in the first place seeps right back inside, and you gain the will and the might to shove the Stalker off of you.

Before it can come charging at you or go hide, you drag yourself to your ass and hit the trigger of your gun not just once, but three times until you make sure it won’t even twitch.

After that, once the Stalker is dead, you look for your Uncle and Jesse, catching your Uncle hitting his armored Clicker with the end of his rifle over and over again. It’s already dead, but he keeps hitting it with so much force that its head gets crushed into smithereens.

Jesse, on the other hand, seemed to have shot his clicker and left it alone once it was lifeless, so you catch him walking over to you now.

“Is it clear?” You ask as he walks over.

“The commotion would have made any others come out so, it seems like it, yeah,” he assures you, and the moment he reaches you, he offers you his hand like a nice gentleman, so you accept his help and get up on your feet with some struggle.

There’s no sharp pain. Just aches from all the falling today.

Nevertheless, your uncle seems to snap out of whatever spell had him obliterating that Clicker, the moment he catches a glimpse of you standing on your given height.

At first, he calls out your name as his contorted face comes undone and expresses pure concern. After that, he rushes over to you. “Are you okay?” He asks as he studies you. “You weren’t bit were you?”

You meet his dark, worried gaze and feel more guilt hitting you for wanting to leave your Uncle behind when all he does is worry about you.

“No,” you assure him softly, and without thinking, you step forward to wrap him in an embrace that catches him off guard. “I’m okay. Thank you,” you whisper as your eyes get glossy.

“Good,” your Uncle scoffs with confusion mixing with his relief. “I’m glad. Now, why don’t we find the vault to rest? You need it.”

“We all do,” you add and pull back to face both men.

“Come on then,” your uncle says without wasting another minute before leading the way through the now empty bank.

“I wonder why that clicker had armor on,” you fill the silence as you walk past the armored clicker. “Is that how armed the security was at banks?”

“No,” your Uncle answers your curiosity. “There were securities sometimes, but never armed like that. Not unless someone was trying to rob the bank.”

You hum and let a short silence fall as you reach the deposit box area, finding at that moment, an old corpse by an empty duffle bag.

That explains the armored Clicker and the other clicker Jesse took down.

“Oh, would you look at that?” Your Uncle muses as all three of you walk into the room.

“It didn’t seem like it was his lucky day,” Jesse comments as you look at the scene on the floor.

“A lot of people started breaking into banks when the outbreak happened,” your Uncle shares as he walks to the duffle to look through it. “With the whole world erupting into chaos, everyone thought it would be easy to get rich or get stuff otherwise unattainable. I guess nobody thought it would be the end of the world until it was.”

You walk away to look around at all the deposit boxes still locked and hiding riches that will always be hidden away.

“Why would people keep stuff here?” Jesse asks as he also departs from your Uncle to also take a look around.

“Well, this place was protected, so instead of leaving it all vulnerable at home, some people trusted the bank to keep their money or valuables safe.”

“I saw this movie with Apollo once where the bank workers would replace the jewelry with fake jewelry to be able to cash it,” you mention and sigh as you start to miss your husband and your baby.

“Oh yeah,” Jesse chimes in as he snaps his fingers. “I’ve seen that movie before. It was really good.”

You hum and start to drag your feet. “I miss Apollo and Teddy. I wish phones worked,” you grumble and turn as you see nothing worthwhile—“that’s something I miss.”

Your Uncle gets up with a paper in hand and chuckles at you. “You were four before, who would you call?” He teases.

You grab your back straps and start to walk back towards him. “Well, you,” you remind him, making him scoff in amusement. “And I would call…my…dad,” you trail off into a whisper. “That’s all, but hey,” you say louder with a faint smile. “I have people I can call now. That’s why I miss them.”

“We’ll be back home soon,” your Uncle tries to assure you. “Now, thank these stupid bank robbers for leaving the code to the vault,” your uncle shows off. “We’ll be able to stay inside for the night and not have a lookout.”

Jesse claps quietly, and you look over at the corpse. “Thank you,” you direct at if before you follow your uncle to the giant metal door.

You try to help after he unlocks it, but he pushes you away and makes Jesse help open the door.

“And welcome,” your uncle tries to make light of the night. “Take a breath and take the night off from all the worry. We’ll be able to sleep comfortably tonight.”

“Is that so?” Jesse doubts the area, and he has every right to, but your uncle is right.

“Yeah, it is,” you assure him as you walk in first, seeing a skeleton inside. Only this one dons armor, and holds onto a shotgun they seemed to have used to end their misery.

“We would stay in places like this often,” you continue as you grab the armored skeleton and drag it out past the big door so it’s not an eyesore in the room.

“If someone does try to come in, we’ll hear them struggle to open the door,” your Uncle adds. “That will give us time to react. That’s why Joel chose to stay in places like these in the beginning. Sunny was a little girl, so we took extra precautions.”

You don’t comment on the memory or try to recall those old days. You drop the skeleton and walk back inside to wander around, seeing that the deposit boxes are open in this room, so you snoop through them as Jesse and your Uncle gather abandoned money to use for a fire to have light and make the room warm.

“What would the old you from the old world think about you doing this?” Jesse asks your Uncle. “I mean you were all dependent on this, weren’t you?”

“Well, first, I would assume I was insane or crazy rich,” your uncle says. “And second, yes, this was once our livelihood. We didn’t have a lot of it, but…we were happy.”

“I sometimes wonder what my life would’ve looked like if I got to live in the old world,” Jesse keeps filling the silence, making you peer over with an amused smile. “Maybe I would’ve been in construction like you.”

Your uncle scoffs. “Ah, nah. Think bigger. I was lame.”

“You said you were happy,” Jesse counters, making you smirk. “Doesn’t sound bad to me.”

Your uncle goes quiet for a moment, and a match strikes before he offers him a response. “I never appreciated it until after. Until it was all gone. I imagine that was everyone’s life story.”

You turn away from the pair and hear a fire start as you continue to snoop through, noticing a silver ring in one of the open boxes and immediately taking it as you think about Apollo.

“Look at this,” you call for everyone's attention and turn to show the ring off. “You think Apollo will like it?” You ask as you bring the ringer closer, as you see words engraved on it. “His wedding band is good, but I always wanted something better for him. This looks better. Besides, he deserves it for being so understanding of my decision.”

“I think it’ll be nice, Sunny, take it,” your uncle backs up your choice before he also sounds thoughtful. “I should get something for Maria and Benji too.”

You smile at him and assure him. “I’ll keep my eye out for you,” you let him know, and finally recognize that the words engraved on the ring are Latin, but you have no idea what it means.

‘Sic Parvis Magna’

Apollo's dad can probably figure it out. He was a university teacher who taught about Ancient Greece and other ancient stuff.

“Thank you,” your uncle says back. “Now, let's close that door and gather for dinner. We should take advantage of the extra security to get as much sleep as we can before we have to leave. Plus, you,” he points at you. “You need to rest. You’ve been through it today. You need it.”

You hum in agreement and go on to help with what you can, or with what they let you help with. Which is not a lot, they let you take tonight easy because of your concussion and the tumble that left your body aching.

It does feel quite odd letting yourselves be so relaxed though, after weeks on the road having to be on guard and look over your shoulder. So much so that at first you’re all so tense, but after a while, once you’re all reassured that no one is coming in and no infected is lurking outside, you all exhale and let yourselves loose. You share stories, and mostly answer Jesse’s curiosities about the old world because he likes to hear about your Uncle’s past, and no matter how many times you’ve heard it, you never tire of the stories he tells.

There was even a moment when you were all gathered around the fire that you laughed. You genuinely laughed a hearty laugh.

The action felt so foreign yet so…good, like everything that torments you would be temporary and you’d be alright.

Maybe you should’ve hung onto that feeling to try and mend your broken soul, but you remembered why you’re so far from home and the events that caused it, and that small taste of healing vanishes, leaving your world broken again.

Only as you come off this high, you hurt so much worse. As if it happened for the first time. That’s why you can’t sleep, or you choose not to, because you know the nightmares that await you, and Apollo is not here to keep you grounded or make you feel safe.

Staying awake won’t help you feel better about your injuries, but you’d rather spend a sleepless night than have to go through the memories that torment you at night. Besides, it seems like you’re not the only one awake.

In the darkness that swallows the room, you see Jesse getting out of his sleeping bag, so after a while of giving him time to himself, you join him in a corner filled with more stacks of money.

“It’s crazy to me that this paper controlled the world,” he whispers thoughtfully.

“I had a piggy bank once,” you share as you’re on the topic of money again. “I kept my allowance in it. Of course, I wouldn’t get the big bucks like my sister, but I would get dollar bills from my dad, my uncle, or the neighbors.”

Jesse chuckles, and you smile softly.

“Oh yeah, I was really well-liked, but that’s beside the point,” you brush it off and continue with your story. “I was saving up for this beautiful princess tea set. That was all I was saving up for, so when the time came to go buy it, I collected all my money, went to the store, grabbed my princess tea set, and put my money on the counter…guess how much I had.”

Jesse shakes his head before he gives you a response. “More than enough?”

You scoff. “Five dollars. The princess tea set was fifteen.”

“So all that saving up…what was it for?”

You sigh. “Ice cream and candy. I had wasted my money on ice cream and candy. Every time I went to the store or the ice cream truck passed, I used my money. That’s where it all went,” you share with disappointment. “I was devastated.”

“Let me guess,” Jesse adds. “Your dad put in the rest?”

You smile softly right away and nod. “Yeah, he did, and then when we got home, I dressed up my dad and my sister, and we had tea.” You smile wider at the faint memory, but as the darkness once again consumes you, you grow sorrowful.

A silence proceeds to blanket you and Jesse for a moment, letting you both take a seat on the uncomfortable stack of money and focus on nothing and everything the room holds.

“Can I ask you something?” Jesse asks, breaking the silence and drifting your gaze to him.

“Shoot,” you encourage him, making him sigh and welcome a short silence before he lifts his head and turns it to face you.

At first, you can’t make him out in the darkness, but as he lets the silence build, you slowly make out his face, catching a boy-like curiosity. Not one that makes his eyes twinkle, but a curiosity that adds a weight to the conversation, as you know he’s about to be vulnerable.

“How can you put on such a brave face in the face of danger?” He finally asks, making your eyebrows twitch together before you question something.

“You aren’t a coward. I actually admire your bravery and your courage. You're hard to scare, so what do you mean?”

Jesse sighs deeply and averts his gaze to explain himself. “Today, when you fell in the river, you looked anything but scared. And earlier, with that Infected, your face never once showed a glimpse of fear. Are you just used to this world? Or what’s your secret? I’m genuinely curious.”

You falter, and that secret you’ve been keeping from them threatens to come out. “I am scared,” you reveal. “All the time, I just…” You trail off and swallow thickly, feeling your secret press harder to come out as it's just you and him. Your uncle is sleeping, it's just you and Jesse.

Yet it’s the thought that Jesse will know that makes you fight to keep in what you feel.

“I won’t share your secret,” he presses, making your eyes flicker back to him and feel your breath hitch, but that need to keep everything in keeps holding on.

“…I just can’t let it get the best of me,” you continue with what you were saying. “Or it will consume me…” You trail off again and drop your head, hiding that desperate desire to speak your mind.

“I’m sorry,” Jesse cuts in, changing the subject bluntly. “When I went to you about going after Ellie, I pushed. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

You shrug softly. “I needed it. I couldn’t afford letting her get days ahead or even reach Seattle before I made up my mind,” you assure him before you face him and probe. “Why did you come though? Is it to help Dina?”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “No, it’s not just about her,” he shares. “It’s about Ellie, too. I would have gone with them if they had asked. Begrudgingly, but I would have. My friends' problems are my problems.”

You smile in admiration right away as you nod slowly in comprehension. “Nice,” you praise him and avert your gaze again.

As Jesse doesn’t get what he was initially searching for, he boldly crosses that threshold you had kept between you, your uncle, and him.

“What was that hesitation with the infected about?”

You act surprised, but he’s not as patient anymore. He’s persistent and worried.

“I promised my friend Apollo I would look after you, I intend to keep my promise.”

You scoff softly and shake your head, hesitating just a moment longer but finally finding a foothold to slowly tear that wall down. “That day my dad died,” you begin to share slowly. “They caught me off guard, and no matter how hard I tried, how reckless I was, I couldn’t help him. I couldn’t…I couldn’t save him, and now I see it every day as if it happened yesterday. It torments me while I’m awake and in my sleep, and I can’t…it’s,” your voice quivers. “It’s crushing me. That’s why I came…to find an end to my torment because it hurts. It hurts so much.” You cry but immediately cover your mouth to not wake up your uncle.

“It’s selfish, I know,” you say what you assume Jesse is thinking. “But that’s my secret. A desire to die.” You exhale deeply and slide your hands off your face before you keep going as you can’t make yourself stop and need to make it sound better.

“And I found it. My escape. When I fell into that river, I had a choice. I was…home in Texas, and I felt so weightless. Not only that, but I was with…her…my sister, my mom, and…my dad. I was home, and it felt…so good. Every bone and muscle in my body told me to stay,” you whisper. “I felt that need so deeply inside me that for a moment…it was no longer a choice, but then…there was an empty chair with a name card on it. Ellie’s,” you pause and wipe the tears off your cheeks.

“I tried to fight myself, but then I thought of how alone she’ll be, and I know…I know she has you, Dina, and everyone else, but there’s this connection only she and I share. A connection only she and I know because no one loved him like we did and…I thought about how alone she would be if I did slip away, and…that thought brought me back. She did,” you finish saying and keep wiping tears off your face.

“I’m sorry,” Jesse tries to offer some consolation. “And I think you made the right choice. As costly as it seemed.”

You sniffle. “I’m horrible,” you can’t help but spill. “I didn’t even think about my family. I was so ready. It hurt so much to come back because I was with him, but then I wasn’t. I…I,” you can’t finish saying, and drop your head to cry as quietly as possible.

“Just,” you add as you wipe your face and face him again. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? Especially not her. I’ll be good now,” you reassure him. “I’m trying. I am. For her.”

“I won’t,” Jesse whispers as he watches how much you struggle to stop from sobbing.

He had watched you from his seat the entire time because he didn’t know how to help, but now as he sees you crying but also trying to stop, he cups your shoulder before he wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in against him so you can find some comfort in his embrace.

And you do. In your most vulnerable moment, you find comfort in your friend.

——

*SOMETIME LATER. SEATTLE*

“The Evergreen State, home of the Dodgers,” you break the silence as you come across a trail sign that gives two different directions; one that points to Arboretum and the Seattle Trail. You all follow the Seattle Trail, of course.

“No,” your uncle snorts. “Not even close. Mariners.”

“Oh.”

“Los Ángeles was home to the Dodgers.”

You rest your chin on your horse's head and become reminiscent. “Apollo watches old Re-runs of baseball games with his dad and brother. I can never get into them though. It’s the same games over and over again.”

“They could say the same thing about your movies,” your Uncle quips, making you loll your head to the side to look at him with a pointed glare.

“Yeah. I’ll let you have that old man,” you mutter. “Touché.”

You then continue to sigh and glance up at the tall green trees that almost touch the sky. Wyoming doesn’t have trees this tall, you wish there were because they’re so fascinating, but you’re also so terrifying in a sense. They’re like giants.

“I’ll give it to Washington. Their forests are beautiful,” you muse. “They’re so…green…” You trail off and glance at your two trusted companions, catching Jesse not even giving you the time of day, while your uncle rolls his eyes, making you smile faintly before you sit up. At that moment, catching the whiff of something completely foul.

The further you walk, the stronger that smell gets. It even burns your nose, but the smell is not strange. You all know it well and don’t take long to come across the violent scene in the middle of the dirt path.

You are only a few miles in, and you’re already coming across corpses of what were once living humans. Not infected. And it’s not just a couple; just past the thickness of some greenery is a group of them. All slaughtered and all seeming to be donning similar green coats that almost make them go unnoticed if their pale, lifeless face didn’t stand out against the dark dirt.

“Do these look like W.L.F? Could it have been them?” Jesse asks as he studies the violent scene to make sure that neither of the women you knew was amongst them.

“No,” you ease his worry. “These don’t look like W.L.F. They were ordinary clothes and,” you pause and look back at the body of the man you passed with a white painted symbol that was nothing like a wolf. This symbol is like…an eye? Or something astrological?

“…they didn’t have that symbol or use the same coat,” you let Jesse and your Uncle know. “But…these are too many to have been taken down by Dina and Ellie alone. Maybe it was W.L.F. That girl,” you avoid saying her name. “Did hint at Seattle being dangerous. Or something…so maybe this is a glimpse of it.”

Your Uncle hums before you hear him tighten his hands against his reign.

“Whatever it may be,” your uncle comments with his eyes narrowed ahead. “Let’s try not to get caught in the middle of it and hope Dina and Ellie are trying to do the same. Come on, it's better not to stop. Someone could be close.”

You steal one glance at the violent scene, and from what you can tell, they were all taken down by gunshots, and a lot of them died with melee weapons. No firearms.

Maybe they got taken after they died?

Whatever the case, you push away your curiosities and pay even closer attention to the tall trees, just in case there’s people hiding up there like when you were in Kansas.

Luckily, besides critters and birds, there’s nothing else that inhabits the trees, and after crossing a few miles, you find the freeway and thankfully leave the thick of the woods.

You are far more exposed now because you don’t have the cover of the trees, which is the downside, but at least you don’t have to be scared that there's people lurking up there.

Now all you have to worry about is if there’s people lurking around you, or if you’ve been accidentally spotted. So far, everything along the freeway is truly abandoned. There’s no sign of life or Infected, just Mother Earth consuming the manmade cars that were left on the freeway, and the manmade highway itself.

Eventually, you end up at the end of a bridge that either deteriorated or was blown up like the other major cities. Either way, you reach the high point and get the perfect view of the city, wondering instead of admiring what dangers such a beautiful city holds.

Ellie is somewhere inside there. In danger, hiding, close to Abby, or…hurt. You can’t think of the other alternative. It’s too grim and threatens to shove you back into that coma-like state.

“Listen,” your uncle interjects. “When we enter the city. We’ll take our separate ways. Sunny, you and Jesse stick together, and I’ll go off alone,” your uncle brings up without facing you because he knows he’ll see your disbelief and disagreement.

“No,” he blurts before you can cut in. “You cannot come with me,” he makes you shut up. “We’ll cover more ground this way, and I'd prefer it if Jesse didn’t go off alone. So yes, you have to stay with him.”

You huff and pout as you stare off at the nearby city.

“We’ll meet up again in the morning,” he continues and points to a spot on a map you found in an abandoned gas station just before you got into the city.

“What if you end up in danger? How are we supposed to find you then?” You argue either way and snap your head to pierce your glare into him. “The city is fucking huge. It’s better if we stick together! That girl said this place was dangerous!”

“And if we stick together, we won’t even cover a quarter of the city,” your uncle argues and finally faces you. “If we separate, we cover more ground, so I’m not arguin’ with you about it.”

You scowl and look away to grumble your defeated response. “Fine.”

“Take care of each other, and if you find the girls, throw them on your horses or tie them. Whatever it is, just bring them back. Okay?”

“Okay,” Jesse confirms that he understands what you need to do, making your uncle move his horse closer to you to pick on you now.

“We'll meet in the mornin’. I swear.”

You slowly look back at him as you hear his attempt to assure you and keep your frown plastered as you retort. “If not, I will come after ya. I’m not goin’ home without you. Together, remember?” You bring up since it seems appropriate now that you’re traveling on the road like the old days.

“How can I forget?” he says lightheartedly and flashes you a small smile. “Now let’s go. Let’s see each other off.”

Knowing he’s right, but not admitting it, you continue toward the city. Yet the only difference is when you come off the highway, you break apart like the old faded lanes that lead to different streets of what was once a buzzling city.

You and Jesse try to keep quiet as you roam the quiet streets, not because you still don’t have the energy to make conversation. After your heart-to-heart with Jesse, that wall you kept up has slowly come down, and you let your voice be heard more. You’re not just a quiet listener anymore; you join their conversations and tell them stories about everything and anything that comes to mind. Even of the past. Or at least the parts that didn’t stab your heart to recollect. So that’s not why you keep quiet.

You don’t want to draw unwanted attention. You’re already walking through the city on horses, so you don’t want to put yourselves at even more risk by talking.

“We should find somewhere to hide our horses,” you bring up. “We’re gonna stick out regardless, but this way it’ll be somewhat easier to blend in.”

“Yeah,” Jesse sighs as he keeps scanning the area without daring to miss an inch. “That’s smart. One of these buildings shall do it. It’ll help if we keep them close to our way out of the city, just in case we have to make some hasty escape.”

You nod and scan the area until a music store catches your eye.

“There!” You point out. “The windows are covered. Let’s keep ‘em there.”

You nudge your horse to walk faster to reach the store quicker as you feel an inkling of excitement seep through.

Nevertheless, and as expected, the doors are closed.

“I’ll find a way in,” Jesse volunteers. “Stay here.”

Without another choice, you agree and watch him disappear into an alley before you start to look over your shoulders, making sure that you don’t catch anything suspicious, and finding yourself find this silence more terrifying than any monster.

Alas, nothing comes out from any corner or any building. The ghost is clear, and it seems that Jesse comes across the same luck because he opens the doors rather quickly.

“Look at you,” you muse as you hop off your horse to lead yours and Jesse’s inside. “Good job.”

“Team Jackson!” He exclaims and puts his hand up to offer you a high five as you reach the doors.

“Yeah!” You giggle and let the reins go to give him a high five. “Team Jackson!”

“The store is clear and by the looks of it, it has grass growing in so they can eat that while we’re gone,” he says after you return to the horses and continue to lead them inside.

Once he closes the doors behind you and barricades the store again, you let the reins go and let yourself be in complete awe by the store.

“What richness,” you muse as you take in all the different kinds of music that's still left behind. “If only I had infinite space in my backpack. I’d take it all home, oh, and look!” You point out and run over to the folk section to snatch a Joan Baez album off the shelf. “My queen of Folk music, Joan Baez. My uncle said my mama loved her.” You smile at the album but also curse the fact that you can’t play it right now.

“If only we had room. All this music wouldn’t collect dust at Jackson,” Jesse says, thinking more selflessly, whereas all you think about is your collection. “I’m sure…people would love to hear some of that be played at a fall fair?” He asks as he tries to discreetly press you to rethink about your abandoned dream of having a fair at Jackson.

Lately, him and your uncle have been bringing up the idea, but that excitement and dream died with…your dad. You just let both men try to insist because you don’t want to be rude and turn them down. They can still have a fair, you just won’t be a part of it.

“Hm, maybe,” you say without that initial enthusiasm, and put the album down to start walking down the site with your fingers raising the dust off the music people forgot about.

“Let’s head out before we lose more time here,” you bring an end to all the excitement and return a sorrow that was such a constant companion in your group.

Once you collect the things you need and go back outside, the tension lingers until you speak up “Joan Baez has a song called ‘Jesse’. Fun fact.”

Said man glances over at you and probes. “Really?”

You glance at him, too, and nod. “Yep. When we get back home, listen to it. Maybe it’s not your thing, but it’s still cool. You can pretend she’s singing about you, considering your girl might have been stolen.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t get hurt or bothered by your comment.

“Maybe you are right,” he mutters. “After this. Maybe I’ll take your advice about officially cutting things off.”

You pat his shoulder. “Yeah, I would like that for you. You’re young, take advantage of that and explore your options. Or don’t. Up to you. Maybe you’ll meet someone here. Won’t that be romantic?” You tease, making him crack a smile.

“I guess I’ll see. Maybe this trip has changed Dina. Maybe we can work things out,” he says, and as to not take sides, you give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Yeah. Maybe. We’ll have to find her to know. Hopefully they’re okay,” you trail off into a whisper.

“I’m sure they will be,” he tries to assure him and you. “They’re smart and work well together.”

You hum in agreement, and as you scan the area as you turn the corner, you think about Ellie and hope with every fiber of your body that she’s okay. You can’t…imagine her not being okay. The thought, it…utterly terrifies you and threatens to send you down that dark cycle again…

That’s why you hang onto Jesse’s attempt at reassuring you as you wander the streets of Seattle, trying to go undetected by the threats that make this city so dangerous.

However, just as you note how calm and quiet it’s all been, Abby’s warning starts to come into fruition as out of hiding, canisters hit the ground.

Jesse and you catch where the canisters land and notice that they’re smoke screens, but no matter how fast you react, you can’t avoid them. They go off, and your ears begin to ring, while your eyes begin to sting because of the thick clouds of smoke, and your lungs get polluted by the same poison, leaving you dazed and desperate to find Jesse.

He was next to you, he can’t be far.

“Jesse?!” You call out between coughs and pull out your gun as you begin to walk in the direction he was just in before the smoke broke you apart.

“Jesse?!”

Seconds later, your name is shouted back, and the smoke begins to clear from the air and your body by the second, so you’re less dazed, but you still can’t see him. Or anything else for that matter. You can only hear different footsteps all around you.

“Jesse!”

“Here,” a stranger speaks up for the man you’re looking for and comes out of the smoke with a mask and gun.

In response, you point yours at your head, but then, from behind you, before you can shoot, something cold and hard hits the back of your head, leading to a void of darkness.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N- some game scenes are you excited??

Tagged- @slut-f0r-u @star-wars-lover @maplecohen @givemylovetoall @itzagothamcitysiren @sammy-13 @beloved-reblogger @emiriia @rues-daya @sunfairyy @littleshadow17 @mcu-starwars @bigtuffswordboy @riaqiax @dheet @queenofthekill @joliettes @d4rno @hardbeingcasual @rana030 @pedropascalluvr41 @ahoyyharrington @beaniebeensbaby201 @maeneedsabreak @maelartasch @adristyles @daughterofthequeen @alastorhazbin @sunsumonner @khaylin27 @hypatia93 @hummusxx @v4mpyk1tten @1donoow @your-shifting-gurl @g4ns3y @izzzzy-the-amazing @aphr0d1teh @lovelyygirl8 @ivy-taylorsversion @mmkkzz @avitute @fuckmebobboys @kitdjarin1 @barnes70stark

[phoebeegreen3]

Capri Persson (F1) ⸺ 04. MY BIGGEST FEAR

🏎 SUMMARY: What if the best driver of recent years isn't actually him? What if the best driver is actually hiding something else? Would he still be the best? Or just a simple fraud? 📓 GENRE: secret identity / rivals to lovers / he felt first, she felt harder / soulmates / slow burn 📧 WORD COUNT: 3639 📬 PARTS: book one (two parts) / CP9, book two (one part) 🏁TAGLIST: @heyyurl @dreadity @moonchouus @wierdflowerpower @anunstablefangirl @deaddumblbumble @a-bbles @freyathehuntress (let me know in the comments if you want to be part) 🏆 CAPRIPERSSON.MASTERLIST

Melbourne, Australia. April, 2023

I was beginning to believe that it wasn’t necessary to arrive just in time for Grand Prix weekends. I could arrive early, wander aimlessly through the paddocks, watch others endure the weight of the press, the photos, and the cheap questions thrown at them by the worst journalists in the industry. I liked drinking coffee in the hospitality area, sitting near the windows to watch everything others had to suffer and I was lucky enough to avoid. I hadn’t noticed how many things they had to do that I had negotiated with the federation not to. The Netflix cameras harassed anyone they came across, and even though I was part of the group of drivers who entered F1 after Netflix and its whole production, I was grateful not to have a camera on my shoulder 24/7.

I hadn’t seen Carmen again since the Saudi Arabian GP, but I had made sure to send her a new pair of pants to replace the ones she gave me to help me out of a jam, along with a thank-you card. She had been very kind and warm to me, and I felt a strong need to return the gesture, even in the smallest way. If she hadn’t given me a nudge to ask for feminine hygiene products, I might not have even been able to race due to the discomfort. I could handle a flooded track, but menstruation was another matter.

I returned to the motorhome when I got a message from Sarah—my masseuse, trainer, and companion since I started racing. Sarah and I weren’t the closest people in the world, but along with Jean, she was one of the only people I’d known since the beginning, and she had always done an excellent job with me. So we were like a strange, long-term, open marriage.

"Did you miss me in Saudi Arabia?" she smiled when she saw me, and I gave her a welcoming hug.

"You can’t imagine what happened to me."

"Having kids sucks. Don’t do it," she joked, and I laughed as we started warming up. Sarah had become a mother two years ago, but Sid—her son—had gotten sick a few weeks back, and if she wasn’t the one helping me train, it wasn’t going to be anyone else. So when I couldn’t have her around, I just did what I could on my own.

"... and since we started, Nyck hasn’t stopped crashing the car. I don’t know what’s going on, he’s good. He has a lot of potential, and now he can’t even blame the car because it’s obvious it works with me," I explained to Sarah what she had missed so far. "I don’t want to think about it, but I don’t know how much of a future he has if this continues."

"Haven’t you thought about talking to him?" she asked from behind me while helping me stretch.

"In three years of sharing with Gasly, I’ve never said a single word to him. What makes you think I should talk to Nyck?"

"The fact that you’re scared of having to change teammates again. I don’t know, think about it. Maybe it’s time to start telling everyone the truth—as a sign. You could even encourage him, you’ve been in his shoes too."

"No, no. I was a rookie too, but I never had to retire from more than two races in less than half a season," I explained.

"Is it really that bad?"

"He’s not bad, don’t get me wrong, he managed to finish Saudi Arabia. But for how the season’s going, it doesn’t look good, and Franz has already hinted that the team bosses are starting to move pieces."

I stared at a fixed spot in my motorhome room while Sarah gently massaged my shoulder blade as I sat. I was deeply worried, not just about Nyck but about the constructors’ championship. At this rate, it didn’t matter how much I won if he kept causing problems.

"I barely talk to my teammates, and when I see they’re at risk of being replaced, I grow fond of them. I don’t know if I can get used to someone new all over again," I shook my head, and then I heard the door open without warning, making my whole body tense—until my eyes met those bright, playful blue eyes laughing at my reaction and that ridiculously blond hair.

"You’d die to have me as your next teammate, wouldn’t you?" he laughed teasingly, but with his usual innocence, and I jumped off the massage table to hug him tightly, bumping into his chest.

"Finally, you show up! Has being part of Mercedes gone to your head?" I punched his shoulder, and he laughed loudly.

"You’re dying of jealousy, that’s what’s happening."

"At least I’m a full-time driver, not a reserve," I teased, and he laughed even though it stung.

"Low blow, Persson. Extremely low blow," he shook his head.

"I’ll leave you two alone. Good luck, Capri," Sarah said, picking up her things and leaving the room, closing the door behind her. Mick sat down with his characteristic shyness on one of the couches, and I handed him a water bottle.

"I waited for you all winter. Do I need to send you a formal invitation to remind you we’re friends, Schumacher?" I pulled my suit out from where I had it stored and laid it over my leggings and T-shirt.

"Sorry, I know I should’ve called, but you know… Dad," he sighed.

"I know, Mick. You don’t have to explain anything to me," I turned to him, giving him my full attention, and he smiled wistfully.

My friendship with Mick wasn’t something I had planned; in fact, it was a strange accident back when we used to race together in F3. Before the Baku race in 2017, I had to use the restroom and, to avoid holding things up, I ran into the nearest one. I took off my helmet to go into the stall and came out to wash my hands without it, thinking no one would come in since everyone was already getting ready for the race—but I was wrong. A rushed Mick came into the bathroom, and his already big eyes seemed to take up half his forehead in shock.

"I can explain after the race," I said first.

"Okay..." he replied, still stunned by the news. After a great race, we met again at one of the paddock cafés.

"So..." he took a few seconds to say something once he sat in front of me, but even trying, no words came out of his mouth.

"I thought it’d be easier, but there’s not much to explain," I swallowed hard from nerves, and Mick slowly nodded, still amazed.

"How did it happen?"

"When I realized I didn’t want to be seen as the only woman on the track but as a driver like the rest of the guys," I explained, confused by my own words. I had never told anyone that and never planned to—except Mick at that moment. "It doesn’t affect anyone, and I race under the same conditions as the others."

"Then why don’t you tell everyone that you’re... a woman?" he asked, the echo of his surprise present in each word and his hesitant tone.

"Because I’ve already accepted that no matter how much inclusion and equality they promote, if they find out Capri Persson is a woman, they won’t see Capri Persson anymore. They’ll see ‘the girl on the grid,’" I explained without looking him in the eyes, fixing my gaze on the coffee I had ordered but wasn’t drinking.

"Aren’t you proud of being the girl on the grid?" he kept asking, innocently.

I thought about it for a few seconds, looking out the window at the rest of the paddock.

"No," I shook my head. "I want to be Capri Persson."

Mick sighed and nodded, never taking his eyes off me, as if still processing everything. He was the first to make me understand how heavy it was for the world to accept certain truths about Capri Persson. But Capri wasn’t an alter ego—it wasn’t a game to me. My real name is Capri América Persson, and I wanted to be recognized as such. Not as the only woman on the grid, because no one recognizes Ayrton Senna for being a man on the grid. Everyone recognizes the name, the legacy, the story—not just a label.

"I guess now that I know, I’ll have to sign a few things, right?" he asked, a little worried.

"You know too much now," I narrowed my eyes at him, jokingly threatening, and he laughed. "We can be friends, and that’s enough. Let’s not make it bigger."

"Okay, sounds good," he smiled, placing his hands on the table to get up.

"Mick," I called, and he turned to see me holding my pinky up toward him. "Do you solemnly swear not to disclose anything discussed in this private meeting of two premature friends?"

Mick smiled, showing all his teeth with that contagious grin.

"I swear on my family," he said, linking our pinkies.

"You’d better. Now you know too much. It’s our friendship or your death," I joked, and he laughed so loudly that everyone in the café turned to look at him, and he quickly covered his mouth.

"You’ve got a great sense of humor when you’re not trying to kill us on the track."

After that, Mick was the only person I could lean on, but then I moved to F2 and then F1, and he stayed in F2. We couldn’t see each other often, and I accepted that making friends in the paddock was tough. We didn’t have time to meet outside races, and when everything happened at the end of last season, Mick checked in on me, but his father was going through health issues he didn’t want to talk about. Then he moved from Haas to Mercedes, and we lost touch. It was like realizing your high school friends now had completely different lives from yours, and despite the friendship, they were strangers. It was accepting that we’d grown up, that we weren’t 17 or 18 anymore, and that we didn’t race together anymore.

"Don’t you want to talk about it?" he asked as I zipped up my suit.

"No, I don’t want to talk about it."

"It wasn’t a bad season, anyway. You were runner-up," he crossed his arms.

"Are you going to keep talking about what I said I didn’t want to talk about?"

"Sorry, I forgot you’re a trust-issues character written by Taylor Swift," he raised his hands in defense as he began to pace the room.

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind. Too much time with Laila," he muttered, and I laughed.

"I love Taylor Swift, but this isn’t about my trust issues. How would you feel if, in the last lap, the last corner of the entire race, of the entire season, you crashed into the wall when you were just seconds—milliseconds—from the finish line and becoming champion?" I challenged, getting worked up. Mick handed me my helmet. "I was so close, Mick. So damn close..."

"Things happen for a reason. God must’ve wanted it that way..."

"I don’t believe there’s a God out there, Mick. I’m sorry. Maybe it’s the perfect comfort for other drivers, for you, for everyone. But not for me. God was never there for me, and I stopped believing in that a long time ago," I took the helmet and put it on while Mick watched me and adjusted the cables.

"You must believe in something when you go out there," he suggested.

"No," I shook my head simply. "Ordinary people need to believe in something to keep from being afraid."

"Let me guess—you’re not ordinary?"

"No, Mick," I laughed, knowing exactly what I’d say. "I’m not afraid."

"Whatever you say," he chuckled, and I took a deep breath, getting ready to leave. "There’s a party on Sunday, just a regular thing. Everyone’s going," he said.

"Okay, sounds fun. I hope you have a good time."

"Yeah, I hope so too—because you’re coming," he replied, adjusting the collar of my suit.

"No, I don’t think so."

"That wasn’t a question, Capri."

"I don’t have anything decent to wear." That was partly true. If I knew there wouldn’t be any important events that weekend I had to attend, all the clothes packed in my suitcase were either sportswear or team-branded outfits. Not much else.

"Well, I’ll take care of that with Laila, because I’m sure you'll tell me you don’t have time to shop for anything. You're going to that party whether you like it or not."

"Reasons?" I stopped him before he could cross the door convinced the conversation was over. No way. Mick looked at me, confused. "What are the reasons I should go?"

"There are plenty of reasons."

"Then pick the best one to convince me."

"That you start seeing the other drivers as your teammates, not your enemies," he crossed his arms with a satisfied smile.

"Good thing I told you to use the best one."

That Friday's practice went pretty well, we had done a great job and Nyck had managed to escape his streak of bad luck, setting a record for the fastest lap count of his season so far. It was a big achievement for my teammate, so when I got back to the garage, I didn’t hesitate to give him a thumbs-up. That was as far as I’d go. Franz and the team looked happy and confident, and we were all excited about the results since the cars didn’t have any issues requiring major changes. Saturday's qualifying session was perfect — I placed behind Alonso and ahead of Max, securing third position. The race atmosphere already felt as close as victory, but everything went to hell in the pits on Sunday.

When you're going 375 km/h, you never imagine that your worst enemy will be the moment when everything stops. Pit stops are one of the most normal things in F1 — necessary and part of the strategy — but your car refusing to move? Not normal.

"What’s happening?" I almost screamed inside the car in the pits with the entire crew around me waiting for me to go. I changed gears, hit the accelerator, but nothing happened. I could hear the cars passing on track and mentally counted the positions I was losing. Your mind splits into hundreds of pieces to think separately and form conclusions while trying to get the machine working.

"What the fuck is going on?!" I shouted over the radio and exchanged glances with Franz and John from their spot across the pit lane.

"Keep trying, we’re working on it," John said over the comms.

"Well, it doesn’t look like it, because this shit isn’t working!" I cried out in frustration, pressing every button I could to get the car started.

I couldn’t lose my position — and I already had. I couldn’t drop below fifth — and I was already tenth. I hadn’t worked so hard all weekend just to end up here. I wasn’t getting out of that car until I crossed the finish line in first place. I wasn’t going to give up.

I had never retired from a race in my entire F1 career until... that day.

I had a flashback — one of those no driver should have in the middle of a race, especially not while trying to revive a dead car. But seconds felt like years in that moment, and I hadn’t felt anything like it since Abu Dhabi. The sound of the cars flying by, the panic in my chest, the heat on my neck and ears, the pounding heartbeat, the wildfire growing silently inside. I had never retired until Abu Dhabi. I had never given up until then, and now... now everything came rushing back like it was the first time.

But unlike back then, I didn’t step out of the car defeated. Somehow, I found the solution buried in those bad memories and that overwhelming desperation that clouded my ability to process the present. Without saying a word and in less time than a regular pit stop, I was back on track.

If I had been just any other driver with 26 laps to go and a massive disadvantage from last place, I would’ve started praying. But I didn’t have time for that kind of nonsense, so I started racing.

Even Nyck was four positions ahead of me. In moments like that, you can’t think about failure. You can’t dwell on the frustration spreading through your system like bad medicine administered in the pits. You can’t focus on the rage flowing through your body like fuel in the car. You can’t overthink.

"Distances," I asked over the radio, and John replied immediately. I had already passed Magnussen and Albon was ahead, with 25 more laps and a goal to chase.

"Don’t mess this up," I whispered to myself. "Don’t you dare, Persson. Not again."

"Good, Capri! Good!" John shouted over the line when I pulled off a double overtake on Sargeant and Leclerc. "Nyck is ahead of you, we’ll tell him to let you pass."

"No. I’ve got 25 laps ahead of me, I can waste one on him."

"Capri..."

"Let him build his confidence, okay? He needs it." I concluded, and I wasn’t lying. I wasted half a lap battling Nyck, and although it meant nothing for the competition, I knew he needed that. How would he feel after seeing I couldn’t take down the rest of the grid, and now the two of us were fighting for position? It’s not the same comparison — I don’t even know if Lewis had the same intention back then — but I remember the first time I felt like a giant for fighting Hamilton for a position. I gave it everything, and I wasn’t going to back down — and neither was he — and although he passed me and I ended up third... I had made things hard for Hamilton, and no rookie gets to enjoy that. But I sure did.

Ahead were Ocon and Gasly — another double overtake — before I reached Carlos Sainz Jr. Son of a bitch. He was good, I wouldn’t deny it — extremely good. But not good enough. When I passed him, he tried to take the position back from the outside, and that’s when his confidence crumbled. If you’re going to break the rules, at least do it right.

Twenty laps to go. Ten places to steal. I couldn’t fail.

"Capri," John called. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Your heart rate, Capri."

"That’s what happens when you actually race, John. If you don’t have anything important to say, we’ll talk later."

I hated those unnecessary interruptions, but he was right. The moment he mentioned it, I became aware of the sensation — like my heart was about to burst out of my chest, like I didn’t have full control of my head, and while I raced, I fought my thoughts, my memories, that memory. I passed Zhou and had a flashback, overtook Piastri and another memory came rushing in.

It felt like I was driving straight and brakeless back in time, to that moment, that pain, that disappointment, that irrational force I couldn’t fight. It was bigger than me. Stronger than a race car at nearly 400 km/h.

"That was brilliant, Capri! Keep it up!" John exclaimed with excitement, and I didn’t even understand what had happened until I checked one of the mirrors. Triple overtake on Hulkenberg, Norris, and Pérez. Impossible. I gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to focus on the race, on the data John was relaying, on feeling the car as an extension of myself.

"P5, Capri, that’s amazing. Six laps left. Stroll is 0.132 ahead. If you pass him, it’s enough. You’ve done an incredible job in 20 laps."

"It wouldn’t be incredible if I finish fifth," I replied, and I could picture John shaking his head. "Positions?" I asked.

"Verstappen leads, followed by Hamilton, Alonso, and Stroll."

"Come on, Capri. Do it," I told myself, holding back tears. I couldn’t control it anymore. I gripped the wheel tighter so no one would see my hands shaking. Sometimes I couldn’t breathe, and I found comfort in the strategy John and the team had prepared for me. I passed Lance quickly, then Fernando. Just 3 laps left. Lewis and Max. My tears mixed with sweat as I fought sentimental thoughts pulling Abu Dhabi back into my mind like a magnet.

"Capri, you’re doing an excellent job," I heard John say again and again between race data. It was the final lap, and once again it was Max and me, at war for first place. There was far more at stake than anyone could see. Would these tormenting memories help me understand how much it hurt to lose against Max? Would everything I had endured over the past 26 laps help me learn I couldn’t keep coming second to Max Verstappen? Did I need anything more to pressure myself?

Apparently, I did. And that "more" was about to show up. The gap between our cars was almost nonexistent, but Max wouldn’t let me through for anything. He made aggressive moves, and I tried attacking with equal aggression, but nothing worked. I could hear the crowd’s screams getting closer, and I tried. I gave it everything I had to overtake him, but our tires made contact, forcing me to fall back by a few hundredths — giving Max a quarter of a second lead over me. And as we reached the finish line, I saw him cross it first.

This time, I didn’t pretend to be okay. I didn’t wave as I got out, I didn’t even celebrate. I ran to the motorhome and ripped off my helmet, struggling to breathe. The look of panic on Jean’s face burned into my memory as he called the medical team. It would have been less ridiculous if they had diagnosed me with a terminal illness right there, but my soul sank when, in less time than my pit stop had taken, the team doctor said I had suffered a panic attack.

There I was again. Me and my worst enemy, living in the same body. Me and my greatest fear.

[havinganervousbreakdownrn]

Hi, about the Jonathan Sims Jane Prentiss post. Elaborate.

Omgomgomg someone asking me to talk about the Magnus Archives!! Thank you thank you so much!!

Sorry, this took a while, I knew I wouldn’t be able to get out all of my thoughts on my phone, so I had to look for my laptop :)

While listening to the absolutely incredible MAG 032 – Hive, I felt that there was a strong connection between Jon and Jane’s stories (obligatory mention on how similar their names are because it feels weird in my brain).

One of the main things that really stood out to me was during Jane’s desperate recollection of her memories, Jane tries to figure out when she first heard the song of the hive, she starts with when she saw the webs in the corners of the attics entrance (which she mentions having a “different song to the hive”, I love this detail!!) to as far back as her childhood, being told by her classmate about blackheads, which she says “that image lodged in my mind forever”, she mentions as a child, she used to watch the worms climb to surface after the rain.

I think she was hearing the song then, it was hard to come to that as a definite belief for me due to her muddled her perspective from already going through the process of becoming what we would see her become, as she seems to switching from “Jane” to “The Hive” in the statement. But my belief of it comes from her breakdown over the ant infestation at her job, I want to link this to Jon’s fear of spiders, because well obliviously you don’t get such intense breakdowns over a thing that brings you comfort, so intense she was fired. Both of them gained intense fears from their childhood, Jane must’ve been terrified from that reaction, but I think if Jane experienced something on the same scale as Jon, the Hive, which we already know could dizzy her memories, could suppress that, maybe giving her relief as a manipulation tactic?

Bringing this back to Jon, there is his experience from A Guest for Mr. Spider, which we know gave him a massive fear of spiders (and very not-dooming guilt), his reaction after reading Jane’s statement is.. Well bad. I think that it is because of the similarity from Jane’s damning since childhood to his own is what causes him to admit he KNOWS it’s not natural, he can’t will up the denial that he hides behind, he even needs to lie down after it.

BUT here’s the thing that drives me up the wall about these two! I think it’s not the similarity in their stories that connects them, it is their fates. Imagine if, you are behind five, maybe six, walls of denial and logic, to keep yourself safe from your guilt and your fears, hearing a story so close to what is your own and she turns into a monster.

Mr. Jonathan “I don’t want to a mystery” Sims, who has spent a while hunting down her story to solve her mystery, only to find that.

Jane’s fears from her childhood found her and used her body to kill and terrorise.

Jon must’ve been terrified, we’ve heard about two people dying from the worms Jane spreads and it now becomes clear she has basically become possessed. She literally has that noted as one of what seems to be one of her last true actions, before she is used as a tool. Something I want to point out now because I see so many people forget this, Jon cares about others so much. The most clear example being in Colony, when after getting Martin’s statement, he lets him stay in the archives, even saying he’d asked Elias for extra security, he doesn’t turn away from the truth (that he KNOWS) and scoff at the man he is currently trying to intimidate. No, he helps him because one of the main traits of Jonathan Sims is he really cares, no matter how scared he is. The idea that he could be turned into a monster and used to kill and terrorise people as well to be turned into something he’s not (sorry, that is a hunger games reference.) is horrific, especially as he was currently being attacked by the person who’s story he can so strongly relate to.

And then when he does inevitably turn into a monster, just like him and Jane were always going to, what should be horrifying him (just like Jane’s song and the fact it made her feel loved despite it all) felt so right.

It was always going to end like this for Jon, for Jane, and Carlos Vittery from Arachnophobia but there’s less to say about him (sorry).

In short, I say Jane’s memory haunted Jon for a long time, I think his breakdown in season 2 makes a lot of sense for a lot of reasons, but also because of the fear that he could be turned into a monster just like her, and that chance were going up higher every day, since he was eight.

[kate-inthedarkness]

Hii, I’m obsessed with your page, your writing is amazing!! I was wondering if you could write something with Bobby, like gf reader meeting inhaler fans or something like that. Take your time xx

Thank you so much for your kind words, lovely 🥹

I love this idea, thank you for sending it in xxx

Amstel Nights - Robert Keating

Summary: (Based off of the request) After their show in the Ziggo Dome you and the lads stay in Amsterdam for a few days. Over a romantic dinner with Rob, you end up talking to a few fans, and Rob sees a new side to you that he loves.

Warnings: None, just fluff!!

A/N: Hopefully you guys enjoy this! I really enjoyed writing it and I loved writing about reader with fans xxx

Amsterdam feels like a dream. The kind that unfolds slowly—bit by bit—under soft yellow lights and the distant hush of canal water. It’s your third day in the city since the Ziggo Dome show, and the band decided to stay a little longer. A break. A breath.

You spent most of the afternoon sightseeing with the boys—Robert close by your side, laughing at everything, snapping Polaroids of crooked buildings and crooked grins.

Now it’s just the two of you, tucked into a little restaurant nestled between antique shops and old, ivy-covered apartments.

It’s the kind of place you wouldn’t have found without someone’s recommendation. The lighting is dim, golden. The tables are small. Everything smells like wine and garlic and something a little sweet.

Across from you, Rob is finished the last sip of his drink, his thumb absentmindedly brushing the edge of your hand on the table. There’s something about the way he looks at you here—like he’s seeing you differently in this city, under this light.

“You know,” he says, “I don’t think I’ve ever walked so much in one day. Or eaten so many stroopwafels.”

You grin. “That’s your own fault for calling them ‘stroopy boys’ in front of that vendor.”

He laughs, loud and genuine. “I stand by it.”

The waitress comes with the check, and before you can even think of reaching for your bag, Rob’s already sliding out of the booth.

“I’ve got it,” he says, brushing a kiss a kiss against your temple. “Stay there. You can buy the bottle of wine for the hotel room.”

You watch him make his way to the counter, always casual, always so at ease in himself. While he talks with the staff, your eyes catch movement near the door—two girls, clearly younger, about 18 or 19, clearly hesitating. They look at Robert, then at you. Then at each other.

You can see it in their faces—they recognise him. And you. And they’re nervous.

You offer a small smile, tilting your head slightly, a nonverbal it’s okay.

They take a breath and approach.

“Hi,” one of them says, voice uncertain. “We just… we saw you two earlier, and we didn’t want to bother you.”

“Don’t be silly, you’re not bothering me,” you say warmly. “Hi.”

“You’re with Bobby, right?” The other asks, glancing past you. “We just didn’t know if we should say anything. Some girls, um… they’re not that nice.”

You let out a soft laugh. “I get that. But don’t worry—I’m not scary. At least not after dessert.”

They laugh with you this time, and the tension breaks.

“We were at the Ziggo Dome,” the first girl says, eyes lighting up. “They were insane. Best show we’ve ever been to.”

“They’ve genuinely been on fire lately,” you say, glancing back toward the counter where Rob’s still chatting away. “I don’t know how they keep it up.”

“You’re really sweet,” one of them blurts. “We didn’t expect that.”

You smile. “You guys are the reason they get to do this. You should never feel weird about saying hi.”

Just then, Robert returns. You feel his hand brush your back before he stands beside you, eyes flicking between you and the girls.

“All good?” He asks, smile easy.

“They were just being lovely. Had a nice chat, didn’t we?” You say.

The girls are clearly flustered now, seeing him up close. One stammers, “We were just leaving—thanks again. You guys were great last night.”

“Thanks for coming out to the show,” Rob says with a gentle nod. “Means a lot to us, genuinely.”

Once they walk away after Rob signed one of their phone cases and took a selfie with each of them, he turns back to you, something soft in his eyes.

“What?” You ask, reading the expression.

He just shakes his head, sliding his hand into yours.

“Nothing. Just… you being kind. I love that about you.”

Outside, the street is hushed. The city glows under the quiet spell of nightfall. And as you walk beside him—his fingers laced through yours, laughter still lingering between you two—you feel lucky. Not just to be here.

But to be seen. And to be known. By the person you love the most in the whole world.

———————————————

The hotel room is quiet when you get back—just the distant hum of traffic below and the soft rustle of sheets as you both kick off your shoes.

The room is warm, spacious, the kinds that make’s you feel far away from everything. There’s a bottle of wine waiting—something Robert picked out at a tiny corner shop on your way back to the hotel, claiming it had a “cool label” and that was as good a reason as any.

Although, you are now 20 euro down in your bank account.

You’re both a little buzzed already—on the food, the cocktails at dinner, the night, the city—and it’s easy, the way you fall into step with him here. You curl up on the massive bed, legs tangled lazily beneath the comforter, the wine between you in mismatched hotel glasses.

He’s sitting up against the headboard, shirt a little rumpled and the top four buttons unbuttoned, hair messier than it was when you left the restaurant. He looks over at you with that soft half-smile he gets when he’s not saying everything he’s thinking.

You take a sip. “Not bad for a twenty-euro bottle.” You joke.

He raises his glass. “Told you the label wouldn’t lie.”

You laugh, and then lean your head against his shoulder, your fingers resting lightly against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat beneath them—steady, and calm.

He’s silent for a moment, then speaks low, almost like he doesn’t want to break the mood.

“Back at the restaurant…” he starts, “that was really nice of you, baby.”

You lift your head slightly to look at him.

“The girls?”

He nods, eyes searching yours. “You didn’t have to be kind like that. A lot of people wouldn’t be. And I just… I saw the way they looked at you. Like they weren’t sure if you’d be okay with them being there.”

You rest your chin on his shoulder. “It’s not hard to be kind. Especially when I know how much they mean to you. To the band.”

He’s quiet again, swirling the wine in his glass like it might settle his thoughts.

“It’s just… you never make it weird,” he says finally. “You never get annoyed or make me feel like I have to choose between being present with you and acknowledging them. You’re just… always understanding.”

You set your glass down and shift closer, your hand finding his.

“That’s because I know who you are. And I know how much you care about the people who care about you.”

He looks at you like you’ve just said something sacred.

“I don’t take you for granted,” he says. “Not for a second.”

You feel the truth in it—in his voice, in the way his thumb brushes across your knuckles.

Then he pulls you in, gently, until you’re tucked against his chest again, his arm wrapped securely around you. The wine sits forgotten on the nightstand now, the room dim and golden in the soft light from the street lamps outside. There’s no rush, no pressure. Just warmth, and the soft rhythm of breathing together.

You whisper, “I love you, so much.”

“I know,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into your hair. “I love you, too. So much.”

And in that moment, you don’t need anything else. Not the city, not the crowd, not the stage.

Just this.

Just him.

[w4ruiyum3]

Gotham's stray pt.4 (Gotham fanfic)

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5

synopsys: After a rough night on the docks, an independent vigilante finds unexpected allies in two of Gotham’s own. He’s not looking for trouble—or a family—but Gotham has other plans.

warnings: violence, blood, ptsd, mentions of death, language,...

To be honest not really proud of this part...but I hope you still enjoy it

..

Undisclosed Safehouse – Gotham, 9:46 AM

The first thing Kade noticed was the taste in his mouth. Cotton. Metal. Something he could have gone his whole life without experiencing. He blinked at the ceiling, wincing as his throat scratched and burned with every movement. His body didn’t hurt too much, but the ache was there.

Someone had turned the lights down. A glass of water sat on the table— probably Jason. The blanket was still over him, but his gear was gone. His leg felt tighter, cleaner if that makes sense.

He shifted, too witted to care about the pain. “Don’t.” Jason’s voice cut through the haze. The guy was at the kitchen counter, sipping his coffee. “You’ll rip the stitches,” he added. Kade turned his head, squinting at him. “You always this bossy?” Jason raised an eyebrow. “You always this bad at staying alive?” Kade let out a quiet laugh, then winced when his ribs protested. Fair. He dropped back into the couch. “How long?”

Jason glanced at the microwave clock. “Since the fever broke? A couple of hours.” Footsteps padded into the living room. Roy, hoodie inside out and socks mismatched, stopped when he saw Kade. “Oh shit. He’s alive.” Kade groaned. “Debatable.” Roy grabbed a protein bar, tore it open, and plopped down next to Jason. “You were talking in your sleep.” Kade froze. Jason shot Roy a look—subtle, but sharp enough to cut. Roy just shrugged. “What? I’m just saying.” Kade shifted under the blanket, now too warm for his own good. “Did I say anything?” Roy opened his mouth, but Jason was already cutting him off. “No.” Kade didn’t know if he was relieved or just annoyed. “Okay.” Jason put his coffee down, still not looking at him. “You hungry?” Kade hesitated. “Not… really?” “You will be. I’ll make something in an hour.” “I can cook,” Kade muttered. “Not if you can’t even stand up.” Roy snorted, seemingly not concerned about Kade’s delicate state.

Undisclosed Safehouse – Gotham, 9:03 PM

Kade was finally on his feet again. Sort of.

The gear was back, his leg was wrapped under a brace, and Jason had very clearly stated that tonight was “light patrol only”—no rooftop chases, no hand-to-hand unless absolutely necessary, and if Kade even looked like he was limping, he was getting benched for a week.

“You sure about this?” Jason asked, eyeing him as they geared up in the living room. “If you start wheezing mid-jump, I’m not carrying your ass home.”

“I’m fine,” Kade said, tightening his boot. “Promise not to die unless it’s really dramatic.”

Roy, pulling his pants up, grinned. “That’s the spirit.”

Jason shot him a look. “Did you even listen to what I just said?”

Roy shrugged with a smirk. “Bits and pieces. Something about broken ribs and emotional maturity.”

“If you fall off a roof, I’m telling Batman,” Jason said, ignoring Roy as he handed Kade a pair of cleaned sidearms.

“And he’ll do what? Glare me to health?”

“Worse,” Jason said. “He’ll give you The Talk.”

Roy shuddered. “Not The Talk.”

“You guys are so weird.” Kade said, almost fed up with them.

Jason grabbed his helmet. “You’re in our house now, rookie.”

Tricorner Island– Gotham, Somewhere around Kane Industries 11:42 PM

The night air was cold, and Kade found himself moving easier than expected—his shoulder was stiff, and his leg ached if he pushed too hard, but rooftops felt familiar again.

The three of them stayed low, watching a suspected drop spot in the old industrial district.

“So,” Roy whispered beside him. “Still think you’re not part of the team?”

Kade snorted. “I’m a temp at best.”

“Yeah?” Roy nudged him with an elbow. “Well, don’t get too comfy. That couch you’ve been hogging is mine.”

Jason, crouched ahead of them. “Both of you shut up. Target incoming.”

A van pulled into the alley below.

Kade watched silently, pulse steady. This he could handle. Movement. Focus. The parts of him that still worked.

They waited. Let the deal start.

Jason gave a low signal—observe only. Not their op tonight. Just recon.

Roy sighed dramatically. “I hate sitting still.”

Kade smirked. “I thought you were the patient one.”

Jason cut in, dry as ever. “You’re both insufferable. Shut up and watch, it feels like having two Roys now.”

For the first time in days, Kade didn’t feel like he was being taken care of. He felt like a part of something.

[fvcking-moon]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ - Just Stay -

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. | Genre: Soft Romance

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. | Si-eun x F! Reader

───────────୨ৎ──────────

I have a part-time job at a small café-library near Eunjang High. I usually work after school and sometimes on weekends. It’s not the most exciting place—quiet, slow, a little lonely—but I need the money to help my mom, so I don’t complain.

Every now and then, a few students from Eunjang come in to study. One of them is always the same: Yoo Si-eun.

He comes in quietly, usually after school, orders a tea, and takes the same seat by the window. Head down, books open, silent.

I stand behind the counter, waiting for someone to order cake or coffee, when I hear the familiar voice.

“The usual, please,” he says, his tone low, eyes tired.

“Sure—just a second,” I reply with a small smile, already starting the water for his tea.

Once it’s ready, I place the cup gently on the counter.

“Here you go,” I say.

He pays without another word and walks to his seat. My eyes follow him without meaning to. He’s… interesting. There’s something quiet about him, something that pulls me in.

His presence is calming, even from across the room—and for some reason, that makes my cheeks warm.

As I watch him, I notice bruises on his neck and arms. Faint, but visible. I want to ask about them—but I don’t.

He seems like the kind of person who doesn’t like questions.

The next day, he comes again. Same seat. Same book.

I know that book. It’s dense and complex—probably not the easiest to understand. Since I work here, I know there’s another version that explains everything much more clearly.

Without thinking too much, I grab the simpler book and walk over to him. I place it gently on his table.

“Here… this one’s easier to follow,” I say softly.

He looks up at me. His eyes meet mine—dark, tired, unreadable.

He stares for a moment, as if trying to figure out what I want from him.

A small, nervous laugh slips from me.

Then he nods. “Thanks.”

I walk back to the counter, my face heating up again.

Why do I feel this way around him?

Later that day, it starts to rain. Si-eun is just about to leave when he opens the door.

“Wait,” I call out and walk over to him, holding out an umbrella.

“Here… I don’t need it.”

He pauses. Looks at me, then the umbrella. For a second, it feels like he’s debating whether or not to accept it.

Then, slowly, he reaches out and takes it.

He doesn’t smile—but he nods once.

“Thank you.”

And then he’s gone.

Days pass. We talk a little more now. He listens when I ramble about random things, and even though he doesn’t say much, I can tell he’s really listening.

One day, he finally tells me his name: Si-eun.

He starts staying longer, sometimes glancing up from his book to look at me when he thinks I’m not watching.

I bring him a cookie now and then, or a tea—on the house.

Then, one afternoon, I find a small folded note on the counter. No name. No handwriting I recognize.

I open it.

“You’re my only sense of peace.”

My heart skips. My cheeks burn.

I glance over to his usual seat—but it’s empty.

Is it from him?

The rest of the day, I can’t stop thinking about Si-eun. And that one, quiet sentence that now echoes louder than anything else.

The next day, I waited the whole afternoon for Si-eun to walk through the café doors, to sit in his usual spot like always… but he didn’t come.

Maybe the letter wasn’t from him after all.

I kept glancing at the door every few minutes, my heart quietly hoping—but nothing. The hours dragged on, and by the time my evening shift ended, I was exhausted from waiting and thinking.

I locked up the café, wrapped in silence, and started walking toward the bus station. The sky was already dark.

That’s when I saw it.

Down a narrow alley, barely lit, blood smeared across a brick wall—and him.

Si-eun.

He stood there, bruised, pale, barely steady on his feet. In front of him, three boys lay unconscious on the ground.

“Si-eun…?” I called, my voice barely above a whisper.

He turned slowly, his eyes wide for a moment in shock. Then he looked down, avoiding my gaze.

“I’m sorry you had to see this…” he murmured, almost too quietly to hear.

I didn’t know what to say. My chest tightened with worry, but I didn’t ask what had happened.

Instead, I took my bag, pulled out a water bottle, and handed it to him.

“Sit down,” I said softly.

He obeyed, his body giving in. He took a few sips of water while I crouched beside him. I carefully cleaned the blood from his skin, gently placing band-aids over the worst parts. My hands were trembling, but I didn’t let it show.

No words. Just silence.

And somehow, that silence said everything.

Once he could stand again, I helped him to his feet and walked him home. Still no questions. Still no answers. Just… presence.

When we reached his apartment building, he looked at me for a long moment, something unreadable in his expression. I only gave him a small smile, then turned and walked home.

The next day: Saturday

Si-eun never came on weekends, so I kept my expectations low and focused on work.

Until I heard it.

“The usual, please.”

I looked up—and there he was.

My heart lifted. “Hey… sure!” I smiled, quickly getting started on his tea.

As I prepared it, he spoke—his voice softer than usual.

“About yesterday…”

And then, for the first time, he told me everything.

About the fights. The bullying. Why he does what he does.

I listened—no interruptions, no judgment.

“Hey,” I said gently once he finished, “Saturdays are always quiet around here… we could sit and keep talking, if you want.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, to my surprise, a small smile formed on his lips.

“I’d like that,” he said.

So we sat down—no counter between us, no silence this time.

We talked.

About him. About me. About things that hurt and things that made us laugh.

Time faded around us. The café, the world—it all felt far away.

By the time we noticed the clock, it was already 7:30 PM.

He looked into my eyes—serious, a little unsure.

“Can I stay… even if I’m not good with… closeness?”

I smiled softly, my voice warm and steady.

“You don’t have to be perfect… just stay.”

───────────୨ৎ──────────

Hi everyone!

This is my first time writing a story, and I really hope you enjoy it. I’ve always loved Weak Hero, so I wrote a soft Si-eun x reader story that’s close to my heart.

Thank you for reading and supporting! >⩊<

Masterlist: here

[8-evil-annoying-catboys]

i realised i was polyamorous like 10 years ago, but only realised i’m aro within the past 5 years, while already in a romantic relationship that i don’t want to end. i realised im a romance favorable aroallo, but i just like to do stuff that is seen as romantic with any and all of my friends, which is why i’ve never wanted to be single since i started dating, because most people aren’t ok with kissing, holding hands, cuddling, going out on dates, and having sex with someone who is “just” their friend, and i always want to do that with somebody. i’ve talked a lot about it with my partner since realising and we both think that labelling our relationship as romantic is still the most accurate thing to do.

currently i just don’t really explain it much further than “i’m aromantic and polyamorous” if someone doesn’t ask, when i look for sexual partners i look explicitly for t4t FWBs and make it clear that i’m aro nd polyam and, so far, no one has asked for further explanation. thank god. it might be that trans people in my area or in kinky spaces are more informed on the aromantic and polyamorous community, or they might just not want to pry. i got lucky in that one of my friends i play with is also aro, less lucky in that she lives far away and is a bad texter, so i only hear much from her around the time she comes out to my state every year.

i feel like it seems that the polyamorous community and aro and ace communities are more understanding and accepting of each other, and since i explicitly look for other polyamorous people (and aromantic people), most of the time people kinda get it. and everyone else i know doesn’t need to know, so i don’t tell them. why bother coming out? my parents, siblings, and even probably most of my friends don’t even know i’m polyamorous, altho i came out as aro on instagram. it’s no one else’s business, and i don’t think i’d be accepted if i came out as polyamorous, so i just don’t tell people unless it’s relevant ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

this one's for the aros who are polyamorous, polyaffectionate, otherwise poly, or as i call myself, polyaromantic.

one time someone asked me how that works and i said "i don't date... multiple people." it wasn't a good explanation but i think it got the point across lol. i'm romance repulsed and loveless but i'm open to qprs, platonic partners, moiraillegiance (it's a homestuck thing, and i don't consider it inherently romantic despite being canonically "a type of romance"), and relationships that don't require labels. relationship anarchy is an approach i use and sometimes "calling each other partners" is just not the right thing for a thing.

i was open to sex and kink in the past but not currently and my relationships haven't really suffered from that changing.

i'm in a polycule of four with 2 other aros and my qpp/moirail, which is i think is super epic.

how do y'all go about being poly + aromantic?

what does it look like for you, or how would you like it to look like? do you have a way to explain it to the uninitiated, do you even bother?

[lesbiansanemi]

Person came to check out apartment today and really liked it! They seem cool and chill and I think we’ll get along well, so as soon as landlords get back to us with paperwork we’ll start filling it out. Very much a big big big relief