#he can’t take away peoples abilities (that he knows of) but being next to him you can feel the disruption of magic just in the air

[letupabit]

An alternative torment

A/N: This pic takes place during the Thanos/Myung-gi bathroom fight scene, but for story purposes I changed up the dialogue and scenario :) This was so much fun to write! I tried to keep the characters as accurate as possible, sorry if it goes off course a lil! Hope you enjoy my lovelies!

Summary: Based off of a request from @saturnzskyzz, Thanos and Nam-gyu discover and exploit an entertaining weakness of the very person who brought them to the games- 'MG coin'. Ler!Thanos and Nam-gyu, Lee!Myung-gi (player 333).

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Unlike previously hosted games, the latest bout had implemented a new feature- the ability for players to choose to cut the experience short and go home with the money accumulated thus far, split equally between them. They had this opportunity after every game, a small mercy for those not wanting to leave the facility in a gift-wrapped coffin. To somebody outside looking in, the prospect of being able to leave with your life as well as a sizeable cash prize sounded like the perfect way out; however, a lot of the players who actually had to live this nightmare weren’t convinced.  For most of them, the shared amount wouldn’t even have been close to paying off their debts, and they’d already gotten so far- why stop now?

After every game, the lucky contestants who had survived would approach a podium with a red X to leave, and a blue O to continue. Once the player had made their choice they would be given a Velcro badge with their corresponding group, and were then free to return to their beds.

Thanos and Nam-gyu, two friends who had voted to stay, glowered at their voting teammate as the red light of the ‘X’ button illuminated his face. Thanos intuitively felt his hand come up to his blue badge, thumbing the seamed fabric. 

‘I can’t believe Min-su betrayed us like that, man’ he muttered, half to himself and half to Nam-gyu, who was glaring daggers toward the other side of the room. 

‘You know he only did it because of that bitch, Se-mi. I knew she’d mess things up one way or another’ Nam-gyu scoffed without looking away from his former teammate, who was trying his best not to catch his eye.  The fact Min-su stood facing away from him got the black-haired man even angrier- did he think he was too good for them now or something?

The rest of the voting went as smoothly as one would expect with a few hundred debt-filled lives on the line. It ended in a draw, much to the ‘O’ side’s favour, as this meant the games carried on. Neither team had actually won, and yet it was undeniable that the players who voted ‘O’ felt as if they had anyway.

But this wasn’t good enough for Thanos and Nam-gyu. 

They knew that after the next game, the votes could very well change. It wouldn’t be unrealistic for even one more player to vote ‘X’ and sway the minds of the other players who had previously voted to stay. The majority of people in the games were just scared and unsure, and it was more than likely that they’d side with the majority- herd mentality was a powerful thing in times like these. 

At least, this is the conclusion Thanos came to. He made sure to spread this ideology to his remaining teammates, and Nam-gyu, being the suck-up he was, went along with it without question. Between the two, they decided the best course of action was to corner Min-su in the bathroom away from the prying eyes of the guards in an attempt to get him to change his mind.

‘I’m sorry, boy!’ Shouted Thanos as he banged his fists on the bathroom stall of which Min-su was occupying. ‘I know you don’t really want this, right? One more game and we’ll be set for life’�� Meanwhile Nam-gyu was hanging halfway over the walls of said bathroom stall. ‘Come on, Min-su. Just one more game, okay?’ he said with false sincerity- and then when there was no reply, ‘c’mere!’ And Min-su felt his heart drop as Nam-gyu started to climb further over the wall, reaching out for him.

He went to rush out the door, only to be met by Thanos who’d been waiting for him. He felt himself forced back into the stall, the purple-haired man cornering him as his friend watched from above. 

‘Look, I’m sorry if you felt pressured- but you shouldn’t have betrayed us like that. It really hurt my feelings- I’m so fucking ANGRY, man!’

Min-su held his breath, not knowing what was to come next- until he heard a voice from outside the cubicle.

‘Hey, what do you think you’re doing? Trying to get more votes by force, huh?’ Thanos turned around at this, coming face to face with the very person who brought him here- Myung Gi. Or, as he knew him, MG coin.

Immediately Thanos felt his anger at Min-su redirected towards Myung-gi. He wouldn’t even be in this situation if it weren’t for him and his shitty advice. 

‘What’s made you so bold, huh?’ He sneered. Meanwhile Nam-gyu dropped from his position atop the cubicle wall and went to stand by his side. Thanos continued, his body language stiff and hostile. ‘Tryna scam me again?’

Myung-gi scoffed and rolled his eyes. ‘It’s not my fault you’re here. Maybe if you didn’t rely so much on the words of others’ he cast his eyes toward Nam-gyu before looking back at Thanos, ‘you’d be in a better position right now’

Thanos seethed at this. How dare this poser insinuate anything about him? And the audacity to not even take responsibility for him having to play these games- which in his mind, was absolutely Player 333’s fault.

Min-su had slipped past the druggie pair, using the conflict as a distraction, making a quick escape completely unnoticed. Meanwhile, Thanos and Myung-gi were practically nose to nose, the tension rising by the minute. Nam-gyu stood behind his friend, prepared to jump into action; honestly, he’d been so bored despite the prospect of death at every corner. A fight that was practically a guaranteed win seemed appealing.

‘Come on, man. It’s two against one- and this time that old-timer isn’t here to save your ass’. Thanos remarked with a nasty smirk, feeling ten foot tall.  He’d been waiting to get his own back ever since he got here, and now there was nothing to get in his way.

Myung-gi felt a sense of unease and, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, fear. As stupid as these two were, it was true that there was nobody else around to help him out, and he didn’t fancy his chances if it came to a 2-v-1. His eyes darted from Thanos to Nam-gyu, both looking at him the same way a fox would look at a bunny. He swallowed thickly, the gravity of the situation setting in. 

But he couldn’t show fear. Not to these two. They’d tear him apart for as long as he had to put up with them in these cruel games. 

So he decided to bluff. Fake it till you make it, right?

‘Tch, whatever. I’m not wasting anymore of my time with you morons’ he brushed past them, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief as they allowed him to do so with surprisingly little pushback. Maybe they were all bark and no bite? ‘Especially a moron who forgets his own lyrics’

A hand grabbed him by the shoulder and span him round. Oops. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that…

‘That’s it, MG coin’ hissed Thanos sarcastically. ‘I am taking you out of these games myself’ Behind him Nam-gyu looked giddy with excitement, although stayed quiet. 

Thanos shoved Myung-gi until he was up against the tiled walls of the bathroom, his face twisted with undeniable rage. He felt a flash of satisfaction as he caught a glimpse of genuine panic on Myung-gi’s face. 

‘Get off me you asshole!’ Shouted the former cryptocurrency trader, his hands coming up to push the furious man away. Thanos went to grab Myung-gi’s wrists, but in the chaos of the pre-scuffle he missed, instead unintentionally grabbing his sides instead. On instinct he made a squeezing motion with his hands, determined not to let this weasel wriggle his way out of this, a rush of adrenaline shooting through him as he saw a wince of pain on his opponents fac- wait. That wasn’t pain, that was…a smile?

‘What the hell is so funny, MG coin? Are you really that arrogant as to smile at a time like this?’ He squeezed his hands even tighter in an attempt to intimidate him and reinforce the fact that he had no chance of escape- but was he smiling again? Even bigger than before?

‘Answer me you bastard!’ His grip on Myung-gi tightened even more and this time he actually heard something that resembled a giggle. 

And then it clicked.

Thanos, without removing or loosening his grip, barked out a laugh of disbelief. Nam-gyu, who had also connected the dots, raised his hand to his face and chuckled into his fist, his eyebrows raised. 

‘No way, man’ Thanos turned to Nam-gyu as they shared an excited look. He turned his head back to his victim, who was cursing his uncontrollable reaction. The rapper had a sickening look of pure exhilaration on his face. In Thanos’ head, he had hit a gold mine. This was going to be so much fun…

‘I can’t believe the savvy MG coin is ticklish’ Laughed Nam-gyu, his voice laced with malice. He wasn’t even trying to hide his excitement at this discovery. He went to stand directly to the side of Myung-gi, effectively boxing him in. 

‘Oh, MG, we’re about to have such a good time’ Thanos chuckled darkly. ‘Well, we are’  he used one hand to motion to himself and Nam-gyu, his other hand not moving from his victim’s waist. ‘You, on the other hand, probably not’

‘Why do you look so serious, huh? Go on dude, make him laugh again’ The black-haired man nudged his friend and watched in sadistic glee as Myung-gi’s attempt at a stone-faced disposition (although his anxiety was obvious) crumbled instantly under Thanos’ slender fingers.  The two pill-poppers couldn’t believe their eyes as Player 333 squealed and immediately grabbed at Thanos’ wrists.

‘Fuck, stohohop! STOP! Wahahaihit!’ Myung-gi felt his grasp of rational thought fall away as his panic went up a notch, resigning himself to the fact that these two psychopaths now knew about this embarrassing weakness. This was so humiliating.

Thanos narrowly missed as a flying kick came his way. ‘Aww, is that the best you can do?’ He buried his fingers deep inbetween Myung-gi’s ribs and clawed wildly, revelling in the frantic laughter of the younger man. This was far, far better than just plain old fighting. He was suddenly caught off guard as another kick came his way, this time very narrowly missing his shins. 

‘He’s tryna fight back, man. Can’t have him ruining the fun’ Thanos made eye contact with Nam-gyu, and although no words were spoken, he picked up on Thanos’ intentions immediately. 

Myung-gi laughed particularly hard as the purple-haired man hit an especially ticklish rib and that’s when Nam-gyu saw his opening. ‘down you go!’ He exclaimed playfully. 

The two druggies worked together to quickly incapacitate their opponent further, and before Player 333 knew what was happening, he was on his back looking up at the unhinged duo. The tickling had stopped for the time being and he finally had a chance to gasp in air, wrapping his arms around his midsection.

‘Alright, look, I’m sorry- no more, okay? Just let me go back to the dorm’

‘Awww, you’re not giving up that easily, right?’ Myung-gi felt his heart drop as the weight of Thanos straddled his waist, the purple-haired man grinning toothily down at him. 124 hoisted his arms above his head, his grip strong and unbreakable. Especially now that Myung-gi had been weakened by the tickling.

‘You’ve been a massive pain in my ass even before these damn games. We’re not stopping just yet’ 

‘Yeah man, you’ve fucked up’ Nam-gyu added, every fibre of his being flaring with excitement to take this guy apart in the most embarrassing way possible. ‘You really shouldn’t have let us find this out’ 

Myung-gi felt his panic renew, struggling under the two druggies as hard as he could. It was no use- he was utterly trapped, at the mercy of these hooligans. He wished as hard as he could that the floor would just swallow him up. Or that a guard would come to his rescue. Or literally ANYTHING that would get him out of here. When he realised strength wouldn’t work, he tried bargaining his way out.

‘I promise I’ll stay out of your way if you just let me go. My friends will be wondering where I am and they’ll come looking- so just save yourself the hassle and let me go now’ 

There was a moment of silence, and Thanos and Nam-gyu looked at each other with deadpan expressions. Almost like they were actually contemplating freeing him. Had he done it? Had he actually made them change his mind? 

However the silence only lasted a few seconds at most until they couldn’t keep a straight face anymore, and burst out laughing. Looking back down at Myung-gi, Thanos said- ‘Fine, let ‘em come. They’ll see you laughing your ass off like the ticklish little girl you are’ and then, with a shrug, ‘we can have fun until then’

And without any further chance of talking his way into freedom, Thanos slipped his hands under Myung-gi’s shirt and gently scratched at his lean stomach. MG coin attempted to hide his face in his shoulder, biting his lip to stop the inevitable giggles he felt making their way up his throat. The sounds forced out of him throughout this made his face even redder.

‘Look at him, trying not to laugh. Come on, MG coin! I’m not gonna stooop~’ taunted Thanos in a sing-songy voice. 

‘Try his ribs again, that really got him before’

‘Good thinking’ and with that, Myung-gi felt the light scratches travel teasingly slowly up his torso until they reached his ribs. He could feel the cold metal of Thanos’ rings scraping along his skin, which made the whole thing so much worse.

He couldn’t hold back his laughter after that, and his bullies grinned at each other triumphantly. 

‘Well, would you look at that! You were right, Nam-su’

‘Uh, it’s Nam-gyu’ 

‘Whatever’ 

The bickering pair went back and forth for a moment, as if Thanos wasn’t tickling a flustered Myung-gi into hysterics. He let out a high-pitched yelp as one of the rapper’s hands moved from scratching at his left set of ribs and up to the thin, sensitive skin of his armpit. 

‘awww, listen to him. Isn’t he just so pathetic? C’mon, MG coin, laugh for us!’ Thanos braced himself as Myung-gi kicked his legs, this time not in self-defence but as an outlet to relieve the overwhelming tickling sensations. 

‘Cute, isn’t he?’ Taunted Nam-gyu as he took hold of both 333’s wrists in one hand, using his other to knuckle his upper ribs. ‘Hey, I wonder if we can get him to beg?’

Myung-gi only just heard this exchange over his deafening laughter. He felt a wave of renowned frustration and anger. He wasn’t gonna beg these two idiots. Especially over something as childish as being tickled.

‘FUHUHUHUuhuhuCK YOHOHOHOU ASSHOHOHOHLES!’ His chest burned but he refused to show any further weakness than the embarrassing display he’d already performed. They weren’t gonna get the best of him.

Thanos and Nam-gyu gasped in pretend shock. ‘Did you hear that? Even in this position he still thinks he’s got the upper hand, huh?’ Thanos looked back down at Myung-gi, who’s eyes were screwed shut as he laughed uncontrollably. 

‘Shit, dude, looks like he needs some more’ declared Nam-gyu, now spidering his hand in the hollows of Myung-gi’s underarms. As if they had any intention to stop anyway. 

The spidering technique paired with the assault on his ribs was almost too much for Myung-gi as he felt hot tears sting at the corners of his eyes. Fuck, where WAS everyone? Usually the bathroom was privy to a revolving door of players coming in and out, and now- nobody? He didn’t know how much more he could take but his pride refused to allow him to beg.

That is, until the verbal teasing was taken up a notch. Myung-gi was usually a put together guy, but in his vulnerable state it didn’t take much to crumble his defences even more. 

‘A-tickletickletickletickle!’ Nam-gyu cooed in a high pitched tone, wreaking ticklish havoc on the former youtuber. He decided that MG coin had been sufficiently weakened and didn’t need his arms held down any longer, so he was now subjected to four lots of hands spidering and squeezing and scratching his most sensitive spots. ‘How much more are you going to be able to handle? You poor thing’ 

‘Don’t cry, dude. We’re not being that mean, right?’ Mocked Thanos in a sickly sweet voice, his hands rapidly squeezing up and down his victim’s sides. Occasionally he’d tweak at his hip bones which he found especially amusing as this would force a higher, more desperate laugh. 

‘AHAHAHAHAHA-FUHUHUHAHAHAHAHA! FAHAHAHAHACK!’ 333 was completely beside himself, his chest and stomach aching, cheeks burning from laughing so hard. He shook his head from side to side, trying his best to ignore the taunting. ‘Speak up, bro!’ 

Myung-gi swore internally (it’s not like he could speak coherently out loud, anyway) and knew what he had to do. The tickling wouldn’t stop until he buried his pride and…begged. Ugh, even the thought made him feel ill. But the fingers drawing firm circles in his sides were making him feel even worse.

‘PL-PLEAAHAHAHAHASE! PLehaahahahahahaAHAHA! PLEAAHAHAHASE! IHIHIHIHIM SOHOHOHOHORRY!’ The act of forming words was exhausting and felt impossible. His laughter became squeaky when he felt dull nails trace patterns into his neck and under his chin and he hoped that his pleas were enough to satisfy 230 and 124. 

‘One more time? Come on, give it all you’ve got or we’re not stopping!’

‘Hey, MG, what would your little girlfriend say if she saw you like this?’

God these two sucked. Like, really really sucked. It had already taken a lot for him to plead in a somewhat concise manner, and now he had to do it again? He took as deep a breath as was possible whilst being tickled out of his mind.

‘STOHOHOHOP! PLEAHAHahahahaAHAHSE! PLEASE PLE-AHAHAH-PLEAHAHAAHSE! FUHUHUHUHUHUCK! YOOHOhohoHOHUHU GOHAHAHATTA STOHOhohohOHOP!’

And then it was over. The tormenting hands stopped their assault yet didn’t move from his body. But the tickling had stopped. 

He didn’t even care that he was wheezing and gasping for air in front of the two maniacs- he was just grateful to be able to do so in the first place. He felt Thanos’ weight shift and he stood up, looking down at him still but now from an even greater height. Nam-gyu followed suit but not before another jab to 333’s armpits, making him yelp and curl up, earning a mean chuckle from the two. 

‘Wasn’t so hard, was it, MG?’ jeered Thanos. ‘And for the record, we didn’t have to do anything. We only stopped so we didn’t kill you- where would the fun in that be?’ With a sneer, 230 and 124 turned and left. Nam-gyu gave a sarcastic wave before disappearing round the corner, presumably to get high. What a pair of lowlives.

Myung-gi stayed laying down, still catching his breath. He listened as the smug chatter of Thanos and Nam-gyu became more and more distant. He’d have to keep even more of an eye out than usual after today.

Those bastards...

[ninkaku]

whilst having a magical ability, arcane dazai actually more or less feels abandoned by the arcane because the nature of his ability is that which disrupts and rejects the arcane talents …….. and hence the people of piltover don’t naturally accept him as someone with a magical ability when they have this rejection and dislike of raw magic that isn’t progressive to them, and then other people like dazai tend to keep their distance because his presence is disruptive to the flow of magic within themselves even without touch. touch just nullifies, but his existence and his ability are just, a shroud of nothingness to the arcane.

[babyleostuff]

˚ ༘♡ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

― the moment in which the seventeen members find out their significant other hid their injury from them

s.coups

first of all - the chance of cheol not knowing you got hurt is this big 🤏🏻 mans somehow knows everything when it comes to you, even if he’s overseas he. still. knows. he would be… i don’t want to say disappointed in you not telling him, because you’re still your own person and he cannot tell you what to do, but… he just cares about you so much, truly. the thought of you hurt or in pain without him knowing is heartbreaking to cheol. he’s a caretaker through and through, especially for his significant other - there’s nothing seungcheol wouldn’t do for them. at the same time, though, he feels so proud to have a partner that is so strong.

jeonghan

the second he finds out you got hurt or injured jeonghan becomes quite passive aggressive. he’s not necessarily angry with you, it’s just that… what wouldn’t you tell him? he’s your boyfriend, he’s supposed to be next to you and care for you when you need it. you do the same for him, so why would you push him away? hannie understands that sometimes you just need your space, and everyone is different when it comes to being sick and in pain, but he’d still be a bit hurt by you not telling him. at the end of the day, he’d try to talk to you, though, and explain why it was so important to him to know.

joshua

it’s not that he’s angry, more like disappointed (all that disappointment, though, doesn’t come from pettiness or anger, but care and love). he gets that people react differently to getting injured, but still - he’s your boyfriend, and a boyfriend that cares a lot at that. shua always respects all of your decisions, no matter what, but when you get hurt and don’t tell him… you might not see it as important enough, but to him, your well-being and comfort is all that matters. he can’t imagine how you must’ve felt going through all of that alone, and yes, he gets that that was what you wanted, but still. 

jun

tries his best not to show how it affects him, when he finds out about your injury, but fails miserably. jun is a bit disappointed that you didn’t tell him first things first, because he’d be more than happy to take care of you (and he’d have the perfect opportunity to be extra clingy). would be unusually pouty and whiny after, waddling after you at any given moment and asking you “why? why didn’t you tell him?”. was it because you didn’t trust him and his caretaker abilities, did you think it wasn’t big enough of a deal to tell him about, or maybe you saw your injury as a burden? he needs to know or else he won’t be able to fall asleep. 

hoshi

you don’t want to keep something as serious as an injury from soonyoung, because the second he finds out you got hurt AND didn’t think about telling him, he gives you the silent treatment + becomes so hard to deal with. he can be petty when he’s in a good mood, so imagine how he’d be behaving after finding out. hoshi gets so frustrated because why wouldn’t you tell him? it’s a whole ass injury, not a scratch, there’s nothing that could excuse you from not telling him. he’s aware he’s not the best with taking care of injuries, but that doesn’t matter he wouldn't do his absolute best. just… tell him next time. 

wonwoo

he can feel his eye twitch when he finds out about your injury. it gets even worse when you tell him it wasn’t that big of a deal and he shouldn't worry. immediate game over for jeon wonwoo. you might think he wouldn’t get as annoyed by it as other members who are more outwardly affectionate… WRONG + he doesn’t consider himself the overprotective type, ALSO WRONG. wonwoo is a man who lives for you and your comfort even if he doesn’t see that himself, so the fact that you didn’t bother to tell him about something as big as an literal injury??? JAIL!!! will cross his arms and stump his feet to make a point. 

woozi

he understands that for you it might be a small thing, your injury, that you don't see it as something important enough to tell him about, but… it’d still kind of hurt jihoon if you didn’t tell him? like, on one hand he’s so enchanted by you because you're so independent and strong and willing to go through your pain alone, but on second he’s your boyfriend. he might not be the most obvious with how he shows his love and physical touch and outward words of affirmation, but he still cares. a lot. he wants to take care of you, he wants to keep you warm and as comfy as he can, so please don’t brush off matters like that. 

dk

at first he’s very confused when he finds out that you got injured, because that can’t be true, right? you’d immediately tell him if you got hurt, 100%. but when seokmin realises that your injury was not a cruel joke he nearly cries. why, why on earth wouldn’t you tell him? and it crushes him so much - you, in pain, without him by your side to hold your hand through it all. he’s quite a mess afterwards, trying to gather his emotions. because he has to get through to you and try to explain how much it hurt him that you didn’t tell him. even if you refuse his help, he just needs to know, that’s all.

mingyu

there’s a hit of annoyance in gyu when he finds out that you got hurt and didn’t tell him. like… you’re well aware of how big of a caretaker mingyu is, and how important acts of service are for him, and yet you decide to hide the injury from him. why? he understands that a part of you might think of yourself as a burden, but he has told you numerous times how happy it makes him when you ask him for help, even with the smallest things. but you’re still pushing him away? it’s just - it’s so gut wrenching when he finds out that you had to suffer on your own and he didn’t know.

the8

huh, so you don’t believe in his healing abilities? hao becomes extremely petty, because no one’s better at being a certified nurse than him (not even a real nurse), and with you not telling him he feels like you don’t trust him enough to take care of you properly. he genuinely likes to take care of his loved ones, he doesn’t mind being the housewife, and he definitely doesn't think you’re a burden because of your injury, so why would you hide it? after he finds out he sits you down and has a talk with you - hao tries to explain his point of view and how it made him feel when you didn’t tell him, and why you shouldn’t hide things like that from him. 

seungkwan

gets so so so petty, oh my god. huh, so you, his girlfriend, didn’t tell him, your boyfriend, you got hurt? you just didn’t? yeah, not on boo seungkwan’s watch. why on earth wouldn’t you call him first things first? he’s your literal boyfriend, it’s his duty and privilege to take care of you, keep you warm and loved, no matter what. and he doesn’t want to hear that “but i don’t want to be a burden” shit, because you. are. not. and you could never be one. so you’re trying to tell him you were hurt and alone while he was living his best life? he’d make sure to talk to you and make you swear you’d tell him next time a situation like that would occur. 

vernon

on one hand he understands that you might not see the injury as something big enough to tell him, like - he has gotten hurt in the past and didn’t tell you either, but… it’d be nice if you did. vernon is not sure why he’s bothered by you not telling him, usually he’s very okay with most of your decisions, but a part of him is scared that the reason you hid the injury is because of you thinking he won’t care. yes, he might not be the best at taking care of people and prefers being the one taken care of, but you’re his partner and vernon will do anything he can to take the best care of you.

dino

his heart drops when he finds out you got injured and didn’t tell him. chan thrives on helping and taking care of his loved ones, he doesn’t care if he has to pull another all nighter just to make someone else happy - he does it with great joy. so when his partner, the apple of his eye, hides their injury from him? it hurts. it hurts deeply. there’s a part of him that feels betrayed, and he cannot help but think if you don’t trust him enough to care for you when you’re in need. chan knows that those thoughts and his reaction are a bit dramatic, but it’s the caretaker in him that just cannot live it down. 

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[joelsrose]

Guns & Roses

next chapter

Summary: New series! Joel Miller couldn’t stand you, and you weren’t exactly fond of him either. Yet somehow, fate seemed determined to weave your lives together, no matter how much you resisted.

TW: just mean!joelmiller - 4.8k words eee enjoyyy

Chapter One

You and Joel Miller were not friends. Not at all.

Ever since Joel Miller had entered Jackson, there had been something—something you couldn’t quite name—that kept him at arm’s length from you. It wasn’t just indifference or distance; it was as though every time you were near, it set off an invisible alarm in him, a deep, simmering irritation that crackled in the air between you.

You didn’t understand it.

It felt personal in a way that made no sense, as if just being around him was enough to make him want to leave the room.

And you had no idea why.

Sure, Joel was a gruff man, with his trademark stoicism and hard edges. Everyone knew that. He was someone who struggled to connect, someone with walls so high you’d wonder if he’d ever learned how to take them down.

But slowly, after a few months in Jackson, Joel had softened. Not by much, but just enough.

You’d see him offering small smiles to the townsfolk, his weathered hands occasionally helping out with a chore, his nods of acknowledgment more frequent. He wasn’t friendly, exactly, but he was warming up to the people around him. Jackson, with all its noise and community, had chipped away at his rough exterior.

But with you? Joel Miller remained a brick wall.

He didn’t smile at you. He didn’t wave or nod. He didn’t even make eye contact unless it was absolutely necessary. Every interaction felt like walking on thin ice, a sharpness to his silence that made the air between you ache with discomfort. The warmth you’d see in him, the small flickers of humanity that everyone else seemed to coax out? They evaporated the second his gaze found yours, as if all the walls that had softened for others came crashing back up around you.

It wasn’t just confusing. It stung.

What made it worse was that you couldn’t figure out why. You were well-liked in Jackson. You had a reputation for being kind, caring, funny—charismatic in a way that drew people in without much effort on your part. People sought you out. You were the type of person others trusted, the one who could make a tense moment lighter with just a smile. You knew how to connect with people, how to build friendships that were rooted in something real. You had friends everywhere—Tommy, Maria, the patrol groups—and wherever you went, you fit in.

But not with Joel Miller.

With Joel, it felt like no matter what you did, you could never find your footing. He didn’t laugh at your jokes, didn’t seem to care about the easy rapport you had with everyone else. If anything, his coldness made you doubt yourself, made you second-guess every interaction, every conversation. You, who had always been so sure of your ability to connect, were suddenly questioning everything.

You could still remember the day Joel arrived in Jackson, Ellie by his side, both of them looking weathered and wary. There was something raw in the way Joel had embraced Tommy, a kind of relief that softened the edges of his usual guarded self. For a moment, he had looked so vulnerable, so unburdened by the weight of the world, that you’d thought, maybe, just maybe, we’ll get along. After all, if Tommy loved him, how hard could it be?

Tommy had been so excited to introduce you two. You were one of his closest friends in Jackson, practically family, and he’d pulled you aside that day, a wide grin on his face as he said, “I can’t wait for y’all to meet, I know you’ll get along great.” There had been such hope in his voice, such warmth. It had made you smile, had made you eager to get to know Joel. You had thought of all the ways your bond with Tommy would naturally extend to Joel—how you’d become this little trio of friends, tied by loyalty and time.

But it hadn’t happened that way.

Instead, from the very first moment you and Joel had locked eyes, something had been off. You couldn’t pinpoint when, exactly, it shifted, but as the months wore on, the gap between you seemed to widen. You couldn’t understand what you had done to push him so far away, but whatever it was, it felt irrevocable. It was as if, in Joel’s eyes, you had done something unforgivable before you even had the chance to know him.

Tommy’s words echoed in your mind sometimes, taunting you with their false promise: You guys will get along great.

You remembered the first time you had met Joel—it had been one of those evenings meant to feel light and warm, filled with laughter and food. Maria had invited you to Tommy and hers for dinner, a small gathering, just family and close friends. The kitchen had smelled like garlic and rosemary, the scents swirling around you as you helped plate the dishes while Maria buzzed beside you, chatting about the latest updates in town.

Then you heard the door creak open, the murmur of low voices carrying into the kitchen. Joel and Ellie had arrived, their figures framed by the dying evening light streaming through the doorway. There was something comforting in how they stood—a familiarity, an ease that only family can share. Tommy’s laugh rang out, hearty and genuine, as he clapped his brother on the shoulder, leading him into the room.

“Hey, Maria,” Joel’s voice cut through the air—gruff, grounded, with a depth that seemed to echo from the very walls of the house. And then, Tommy turned to you with that warm brotherly smile of his, introducing you.

You’d smiled—nervous but friendly—extending a hand as you offered a casual greeting. “Hi, it’s so nice to finally meet you, Joel.”

A light-hearted joke about the food had slipped from your lips, something meant to fill the space, to break the silence, to ease the unfamiliarity. But Joel had only stared for a heartbeat too long, his hand moving to shake yours with a grip that felt as solid and immovable as stone. There had been no warmth, no softness in his eyes, no smile to meet your own. It was as if your presence unsettled him, a chill descending between you two in that brief exchange. You had felt it then—the distance, the resistance.

And it only grew from there.

Through the evening, you had tried. Tried to coax him into the conversation with little remarks, to pull him in through laughter and lighthearted banter. Ellie had laughed, her bright smile flickering like sunshine breaking through the clouds. Tommy had nearly fallen out of his chair at one of your jokes, his laughter filling the space between bites of food. Even Maria had chuckled softly, her eyes glowing with warmth as she nudged you playfully.

But not Joel.

Every time you spoke, his brow furrowed just a little deeper. His lips pressed tighter together, and his eyes flicked away from yours as if he couldn't bear to hold your gaze. It wasn’t outright hostility, but the coldness lingered like a shadow, hovering between every word exchanged. The more you tried to engage him, the more distant he seemed, as if you were pushing against a wall that refused to budge.

And the more Joel pulled away, the more it gnawed at you, turning your confusion into something more jagged, more bitter. How could someone you barely knew have such a hold on your thoughts? How could one man’s distance feel like a rejection of everything you thought you were good at?

As the days blurred together, you’d find yourself thinking about it more than you cared to admit. And as much as you tried to brush it off, tried to tell yourself that you didn’t care, that his coldness didn’t matter—it did. It mattered more than you wanted it to.

And Joel? He didn’t seem to care.

That was why, when you saw your name paired with Joel for the next patrol, you were stumped. A frown pulled at your lips as you stared at the roster, the list mocking you with its cruel pairing.

Joel Miller.

The man who could barely look at you, who actively avoided your presence, now slated to spend hours—days even—alone with you out in the wilderness. Whoever had put this together had to be playing a joke on you.

But as your eyes drifted down to the bottom of the roster, you saw the telltale initials: M & T. Maria and Tommy. The two people in charge of organizing patrols.

Of course.

You gruffed in frustration, the idea of spending hours in silence, or worse, awkward small talk with Joel, made you inwardly groan.

Shaking your head, you started the short walk toward Maria and Tommy’s house, the crisp winter air biting at your cheeks. The snow beneath your boots crunched with each step, the sound sharp in the otherwise quiet evening. Jackson’s main path was lined with soft, glowing lights that reflected off the fresh blanket of snow, guiding your way.

Their house wasn’t far, tucked neatly alongside the other homes, warm and inviting with its soft glow spilling from the windows. You could see the familiar curl of smoke rising from the chimney, a sure sign of the roaring fire inside. As you approached, you could hear voices filtering through the thick wooden walls—louder than usual, urgent. You slowed your pace, the tension in the air becoming palpable, the muffled sound of raised voices stirring something uneasy in your chest.

“What the hell is this, Tommy?” Joel’s voice cut through the stillness, gruff and laced with irritation. You stopped short of the door, your breath catching as curiosity took hold. You shouldn’t eavesdrop—you knew that—but you couldn’t stop yourself. You needed to hear what Joel had to say, especially if it would finally give you some insight into why he always seemed to look at you with that simmering frustration.

“What’s the big deal, Joel?” Tommy’s voice echoed back, exasperated but steady, trying to keep the peace.

“You know damn well what the big deal is.” Joel’s tone was biting, sharp enough to cut through the thick wooden walls. His frustration was palpable, practically vibrating through the air. “You’re pairin’ me up with her? Jesus, Tommy, you know I can’t stand her.”

The words hit like a physical blow, and your heart clenched painfully, the sting immediate and deep. You had suspected it for a while, of course, but hearing him say it out loud—that he couldn’t stand you—felt like a punch to the gut, one you weren’t prepared for.

You weren’t the type to let words get to you, especially not like this, but this—this was different. A lump formed in your throat, and before you could stop it, tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill over. You pressed yourself closer to the door, the silence inside the house heavy as if even Tommy was taken aback by Joel’s outburst.

Finally, Tommy spoke again, his voice filled with frustration, tinged with disbelief. “And why the hell not? She’s a good person, Joel. A damn good person with a heart of gold. What the hell did she ever do to you?”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing. You stepped closer to the door, your heart pounding as you waited—needed—to hear Joel’s response. You needed to know why.

“It’s not that simple, Tommy.” Joel’s voice was quieter now, the frustration tempered, but it carried a weight that made your pulse quicken.

“What the hell’s so complicated about it?” Tommy shot back, his voice rising in disbelief, clearly at the end of his patience. “You’ve barely said two words to her since you got here. If you’ve got a problem with her, why don’t you just spit it out?”

The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating. For a moment, you thought Joel wouldn’t answer at all. The tension hung in the air like a coiled spring, ready to snap.

And then, in a voice so low you almost didn’t hear it, Joel finally spoke. “It’s just… I can’t, alright? I can’t… be around her like that.”

Your heart pounded painfully against your ribs, confusion swirling inside you. What did that even mean? You had no idea what he was trying to say, but it twisted something deep within you, the uncertainty gnawing at your insides.

“Jesus, Joel,” Tommy sighed, his voice carrying the weariness of too many conversations just like this one. You could practically hear him running a hand through his hair, frustration and exhaustion blending in his tone.

“Look, you don’t have a choice here. What if one day it’s just the two of you out there, the only ones available for patrol, and something goes sideways? You gonna let things fall apart because you can’t get over yourself and work together?”

There was a pause, Tommy’s words hanging in the air like a plea for reason. You knew you had heard enough. The knot in your chest had tightened to the point of pain, and you were ready to turn away, to retreat before things got worse.

But before you could move, the door creaked open.

Joel stood in the doorway, his broad frame blocking out the warm light from inside. His eyes found yours immediately, and in that instant, you knew—he had seen you. And he knew you had heard everything.

The flicker of recognition in his eyes made your chest tighten even more, your heart racing as the tension between you grew impossibly thick. There was no apology in his gaze, no softening in his expression. He just stared at you, his features tight and unreadable, leaving you suspended in the heavy silence of everything unsaid.

Behind him, you could see Maria and Tommy, their faces filled with worry, watching as the situation unfolded like a slow-motion tragedy. You felt exposed, raw, like an open wound, and the last thing you wanted was for anyone to witness that vulnerability.

Joel pushed past you without a word, his shoulder brushing yours as he strode down the steps, his footsteps heavy against the ground. He didn’t even glance back, leaving you standing there, heart in pieces, with nothing but the cold air biting at your skin.

You turned on your heel, walking away from the house, your steps heavy, dragging, like your body was weighed down by the ache in your chest. You wanted to move faster, to disappear into the night, but your legs felt unsteady beneath you, refusing to obey the urgency in your heart. Each step felt like a struggle, the sting of unshed tears blurring your vision as you tried to hold it together.

“Wait—” Tommy called after you, his voice tight with concern. “Come inside, talk to us.”

But you couldn’t. The tears were already threatening to spill, your throat tight with the pressure of holding everything in. The last thing you wanted was for them—for him—to see you like this, breaking apart in front of their eyes. Your vision wavered as the first tear slipped free, and you blinked hard, trying to will it away, trying to push down the hurt that was clawing its way up.

You needed to get out of there. Anywhere but here. You moved faster, your boots crunching in the freshly fallen snow, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts as you made your way down the path. The cold air nipped at your cheeks, but it did little to numb the burning in your chest.

Behind you, you heard Tommy rushing after you, his footsteps crunching through the snow, his voice softer now, urgent but gentle. “Hey, kid—he didn’t mean it. You know Joel. He’s complicated. He doesn’t know how to—” His words trailed off, as if he couldn’t find the right way to explain something even he didn’t fully understand.

You stopped, your feet rooted to the ground, but you didn’t turn to face him. You couldn’t. Not like this. Not when you were one breath away from falling apart entirely, from letting everything you’d been holding back flood to the surface.

“I’ll be fine, Tommy,” you said, your voice tight, barely managing to stay steady. It felt like a lie, like a betrayal of the truth you were burying inside, but you couldn’t let him see you like this. Not over Joel Miller. You wiped at your eyes hastily, trying to brush away the tears before they fell. “I just… I need to go.”

There was a pause, the silence thick between you, weighted with sympathy, with Tommy’s understanding and his guilt. He didn’t say anything else, and in that moment, you were grateful. He didn’t push. He knew better.

So you walked away, your heart heavy with the weight of it all. The cold air bit at your cheeks, but the sting of Joel’s words hurt so much more, echoing in your mind like a wound that refused to heal. And underneath it all, one question burned like fire, searing through every doubt and every hurt—Why?

Why did Joel hate you so much? What had you ever done to deserve it?

•••

The morning sun filtered through the thin curtains of your small home, casting soft, golden beams across the wooden floor. The house was modest—just enough space for one person, with a kitchen that opened into a cozy living room, and a bedroom tucked away in the back. The walls were lined with small, personal touches��books you had collected over the years, a few framed photos of moments from before, and little trinkets you had scavenged from various patrols. It was a quiet space, peaceful, but this morning, the weight of the silence felt heavier than usual.

You sat on the edge of your bed, your hands lingering over your boots before pulling them on with a sigh. The air in Jackson had the sharpness of early morning, and you knew the day ahead would be long. As you tied the laces, the conversation you’d overheard at Tommy and Maria’s house replayed in your mind—the sting of Joel’s words, the coldness in his voice. "Jesus Tommy, you know I can’t stand her." It had been days since, but the ache of it still hit like a fresh bruise, tender to the touch.

You stood and moved to the small table by the door where you kept your patrol gear—your rifle, your gloves, a well-worn coat. Everything felt heavier today. As you strapped on your holster, you caught your reflection in the window. You looked tired. Not just from lack of sleep, but from the quiet hurt that had been growing inside you, quietly gnawing at your spirit since the moment Joel’s words reached your ears.

With one last glance around your home, you opened the door and stepped outside, the crisp morning air hitting your cheeks. The stable wasn’t far, just a short walk, but the journey felt longer today. Each step reminded you of the awkward silence that was bound to hang between you and Joel, the weight of unspoken words and the tension that had always been there but now felt even more unbearable.

When you arrived at the patrol meet-up spot, your eyes immediately landed on your horse. He whinnied softly, recognizing you as you approached. You smiled faintly, running your hand along his muzzle, brushing through his thick mane. It was a ritual by now—whispering a soft hello to him, patting his side, and taking a moment to ground yourself before setting out. He was the one constant, the one being you could rely on during patrol. You leaned in, pressing your forehead gently to his, letting the warmth of his presence calm your frayed nerves.

But then, you heard the familiar sound of boots crunching in the snow behind you. Without even turning, you knew it was Joel.

You felt his presence like a weight in the air—heavy, silent. He said nothing as he walked past you, his eyes fixed on his own horse. There was no greeting, no acknowledgment, just the awkward tension that had settled between you both like a fog. The memories of that conversation played over again in your mind, and the pang of hurt hit you square in the chest as you stiffened slightly.

You stole a quick glance at him as he saddled his horse. His face was set in that same stoic expression, the one he wore around everyone in Jackson��but with you, there was an added distance. He kept his eyes averted, focusing on the task at hand, and for a moment, you wondered if this day would pass without a single word between you.

With a sigh, you climbed onto your horse, settling into the saddle with a practiced ease. The silence between you and Joel was palpable, thick like the cold morning air. You wanted to say something—anything to break the tension—but the words caught in your throat, stifled by the hurt that lingered.

Joel mounted his horse without a glance in your direction. You both sat there for a beat, the sound of horses shifting in the snow the only thing breaking the stillness. Then, without a word, he nudged his horse forward, and you followed suit, the two of you riding out together into the white expanse of the wilderness beyond Jackson.

The only thing heavier than the quiet was the unspoken weight between you.

You began your journey through the thick silence that had settled between you and Joel like a fog. The cold wind bit at your skin, but it was nothing compared to the coldness that radiated from the man riding just ahead of you. His shoulders were hunched, his back stiff, his eyes never once flickering in your direction. The snow crunched beneath your horse's hooves, the sound the only thing to fill the uncomfortable quiet between you.

Not a single word had passed between you since the patrol began. The tension was unbearable, the weight of Joel’s unspoken words hanging heavily in the air. You hadn’t expected warmth or friendliness, not after everything, but the biting silence cut deeper than you could have imagined.

Hours passed before Joel finally spoke, his voice a low mutter as he pointed toward a narrow path. “We’ll go through here,” he said, his tone flat and emotionless, as though he were simply checking off a list. It was strange to hear him speak after so long, and for a moment, it felt as though his words didn’t belong to him.

You followed in silence, the trail winding deeper into the forest, the trees closing in around you. The snow-covered ground glittered under the faint sunlight, casting long shadows that twisted and danced between the trees. The world felt smaller here, more enclosed, and with each passing moment, the unease inside you grew.

Eventually, you arrived at your destination—a crumbling cabin tucked deep in the woods, half-buried in snow, its wood aged and brittle against the cold. The stillness of the air made everything feel heavier, like even the trees were holding their breath. You dismounted your horse quietly, your fingers stiff from the biting chill as you fumbled with the reins. Joel had already tied his horse to the post, his movements precise, practiced.

He turned toward you, the lines of his face hardened, eyes sharp as they caught yours for a moment too long. His jaw clenched, the tension palpable. “Follow me,” he ordered, his voice cutting through the cold air like a whip. “And don’t say a word. Not a single word. From here on out, we’re silent.”

His command, rough and unyielding, struck you with a sharpness that left your chest aching. It wasn’t just the cold seeping into your bones—it was the weight of his disdain, pressing down on you, constricting your breath. You nodded, your throat tightening with unspoken words you knew would only make things worse.

You followed him toward the cabin, the wind howling softly around you, whispering secrets you couldn’t quite hear. The snow crunched beneath your boots, the scent of pine lingering in the air. But despite the open wilderness around you, the world felt unnervingly small. The cabin door creaked on its rusted hinges as Joel pushed it open, the sound echoing like a warning in the eerie stillness. You hesitated before stepping inside, the dim light barely illuminating the cramped space that lay beyond.

Your pulse quickened, your instincts telling you something wasn’t right. You’d been on enough patrols to recognize danger, but this… this felt different. It felt personal. Like the shadows themselves were watching, waiting.

Joel moved ahead of you, his broad shoulders tense, his gun drawn as he scanned the small room. His silence felt thick, suffocating, the air between you charged with unspoken tension. You tried to steady your breathing, to calm the hammering of your heart, but the unease gnawed at you, made every sound sharper, every shadow darker.

And then it happened.

A figure lunged from the darkness, too fast for you to react, the world tilting violently as you were tackled to the ground. The impact stole the breath from your lungs, the cold, hard floor biting into your skin. The raider was filthy, wild-eyed, his hands rough and cruel as he pinned you beneath him, the sharp gleam of a knife flashing before your eyes. Panic surged through you, but your limbs felt heavy, useless against the overwhelming force holding you down. The knife hovered dangerously close to your throat, the cold steel grazing your skin, and for one terrifying moment, you thought this was it—this was how it would end.

But then Joel was there.

He moved like a storm—fast, brutal, and unstoppable. In one swift motion, he yanked the raider off of you, throwing him to the floor with a strength that seemed to come from somewhere far deeper than just muscle. Rage radiated from Joel as his fists met flesh, each blow landing with a sickening crack that echoed through the tiny cabin. He didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. The raider’s body went limp beneath him, but Joel kept going, his fists relentless, pounding into the man with a fury that seemed to possess him, until the only sound left was the ragged heave of his breathing and the wet thud of blood dripping onto the floor.

You lay there, gasping, your chest rising and falling in uneven, desperate breaths. The world spun around you, the edges of your vision blurred by adrenaline and fear. You pushed yourself up on trembling arms, your body weak, every nerve on edge. Your heart thundered in your chest, so loud you could hear it in your ears, drowning out the silence that had settled like a heavy fog.

Joel turned toward you then, his chest still heaving with exertion, his fists stained with blood. His face was dark with anger, his eyes burning as they locked onto yours. “What the hell was that?” he growled, the fury in his voice so raw it made you flinch. “You could’ve been killed.”

His words were a blade, sharp and unyielding, cutting through the thin veil of composure you’d been clinging to. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to breathe. You wanted to speak, to defend yourself, but the intensity of his stare pinned you down more effectively than the raider ever could. Every word you wanted to say died on your tongue.

And then he muttered it, low and venomous, just loud enough for you to hear: “Fucking burden…”

The words sliced through you, deeper than any knife. You felt them settle in your chest, a sharp, stinging ache that spread like wildfire, consuming the air around you. You stared at him, the sting of his words leaving you breathless, your heart sinking as if it had been thrown into the abyss.

“No,” you spat, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and hurt. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.”

Joel’s eyes flashed, his body going rigid as he turned fully to face you. “Excuse me?” His voice was dangerously low, like the quiet before a storm, but you didn’t back down. Not this time.

“You heard me.” Your chest was still heaving, adrenaline still coursing through your veins, but your resolve was stronger than your fear. “You don’t get to treat me like I’m some… problem you have to deal with. I’m out here trying to do my part, same as you.”

His expression darkened, disbelief twisting his features. “Do your part? You almost got yourself killed back there! If I hadn’t been here—"

“If you hadn’t been here?” you cut him off, your voice rising as the anger overtook the fear. “What, I’d be dead? Is that what you think? That I can’t handle myself? I’ve been on patrols long before you showed up. I’ve survived without you. Just fine.”

Joel scoffed, his lips curling in frustration. “Yeah? Didn’t look like it just now.”

His words were another blow, sharp and biting, but you refused to let them break you. “I didn’t need you to save me, Joel. I would’ve figured it out.”

His eyes narrowed, his jaw working as he fought to control the anger simmering just beneath the surface. “You think this is a game? You think you can just figure it out when you’ve got a knife to your throat?” His voice was loud now, booming in the small space, filled with a frustration that felt all too personal.

“You could’ve died. And for what?”

“Fuck you, Joel.”

The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them, raw and jagged, fueled by the fire burning in your chest. You didn’t care about the consequences, didn’t care that his eyes had gone dark with shock. You were done. Done with being treated like something fragile and disposable.

Joel stared at you, his body tense, his mouth slightly open like he hadn’t expected the bite of your words. For a moment, the space between you felt like a battlefield, the silence pulsing with the weight of everything unsaid. The anger that simmered in you wasn’t just from this moment—it was months of pent-up frustration, of feeling like you were constantly crashing against a wall with him, never allowed in.

Your chest heaved, your hands trembling with the adrenaline still coursing through you.

“I don’t need you to save me,” you said, your voice shaking with the force of what you felt. “I never asked for your help, Joel. And I sure as hell don’t need you treating me like I’m some burden. So fuck you.”

His eyes flashed with something—anger, guilt, maybe something softer, but he quickly buried it beneath that familiar cold exterior. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might snap back, might throw something just as harsh in your face. But he didn’t. Instead, his gaze dropped, just for a second, like your words had found their mark.

“Fine,” he muttered, his voice low and hard. “You don’t need my help? Then don’t ask for it.” He turned sharply, storming out of the cabin without another word, his footsteps heavy in the snow, leaving you standing there in the cold, breathless and burning with the aftershocks of everything you’d just said.

But even as the silence swallowed him up, you knew the storm between you wasn’t over—it had only just begun.

[coquettepascal]

purpose on earth

summary: joel loves to take, you love to give.

tags: 18+, smut, angst(ish), jackson era!joel, cold!joel, grumpy!joel, innocent!reader, dom!joel, implied age gap (reader doesn't remember pre-outbreak), corruption kink, joel takes your undies, humiliation, oral sex (m!receiving), allusion to thigh riding, a feeling of helpless/hopeless-ness permeates this fic, reader is pretty pathetic, use of "sweet girl", objectification of reader, unrequited obsession, this fic isn't necessarily sexy, just mildly sad.

a/n: i literally wrote this like an hour ago while i was supposed to be outlining my next project, but @hellishjoel told me to listen to my creative demons... so now this is being posted.

(1.1k, just a baby)

Nothing in this world has ever, or will ever, belong to you. Faint memories glaze your mind sometimes, when you lay down to rest. Not your own memories, but things you’ve read in books and seen in abandoned family photo albums. White wedding dresses, cars that drive, Sunday night family dinner. An American lifestyle that was sucked away with the cordyceps, something only they could clear out. The bombs the government used, the ones you can’t remember anymore, they never wiped mother earth clean the way she has done for herself.

She’s infected, and not yours. Nothing outside of Jackson’s walls belongs to your human hands.

You’ve never known ownership. The clothes you wear belonged to people before you, the ground you walk on cannot be sold. Maybe in another life this would feel fulfilling, but something in you wants to know what it is to own, or even fit in. Your skin, flushed and healthy, skin full of life and blood and organs. A heart that thumps in a world of disease, disorder, death. What a weird purity you hold, something you want to ruin. 

A person like you isn’t meant to own anything here. It feels like you have to belong, if you wish to take.

He will do it for you. 

Joel knows greed, remembers the world before. His hands have taken food, land, lives, anything you can imagine. It isn’t something you realistically think about, more infatuated with how he has the ability to do all these things. Not that you hadn’t committed your own sins, but to defend yourself isn’t wrong, at least that’s what he says. Something in Joel smolders the way only a primal fire can, he is from a world whose memory of a flame will extinguish soon.

He doesn’t help with any of your wants, your need to own or belong. But Joel shows you what it is to take.

You don’t understand the fascination he has with you. The memory of the night he first led you back to his house is blurry, a fleeting moment in comparison to what has happened since. There was conversation of music, of you having a tape you wish you could play. 

His hands were slow when they slid your underwear down your legs, you hoped he wasn’t looking. Nothing about you felt sexy or womanly, you felt dwarfed when he was so close. Again, you wished you could belong, so maybe you could hide. There was a stain in the gusset and you remember how he pulled the garment off your ankles when it dangled there.

“Lemme see,” he had demanded, “lemme see what I did t’you.”

Joel had smeared his thumb through the sticky wet mark, huffing in surprise. He knew it was for him, knew there was nothing else that could have made you do that. Humiliated, you had tried to yank back your underwear, but he refused.

“S’mine now,” he laughed, cheeks rosy.

That was the first time Joel took from you. 

Now you seek him, the ache for belonging in the world twisting to a yearning for him to take from you. If you could not belong to this world, if you could not fit, at least you could fulfill him. Joel doesn’t like it when you seek him out too often, hates when others notice it. You’re not his, never his, just a moment of gratification for his consuming greed. 

Once, you waited in the early morning at the stables for him. Crouched near the barn door, you waited and watched the dewy grass grow. The crunch of his boots, the yawn he let out as he passed by you, it was enough. He said nothing to you, took off on his horse with some other man trailing behind him. 

“Joel’s so responsible,” you thought to yourself, “he’ll need me later I bet.”

Of course, he did. You relished in the small victory of him stealing from you again. Purity leaks from you in the form of drool on your chin, when he pulls you off his cock. Joel’s thumbs push the spit back in your mouth and you suck it down willingly. Praise rumbles off his tongue and into your ears, a southern rhythm you find sanctuary in. Pushing his dick back into your mouth is all pleasure to him, but it’s a taste of greed for you. 

“Sweet girl, that’s a good mouth f’me, ain’t it?” Joel asks, head tilting back.

He never takes his pants off, but he strips you naked. His eyes arguably take more than his hands ever will. The bob of his Adam's apple hypnotizes your eyes as you garble a response to his question. Scarcely do you make sense around Joel, or even speak. You don’t think you can remember the last time you held a proper conversation with him, he usually just waits for you to come around.

It all starts the same, standing on his porch and waiting until he opens the door.

“Missin’ me?” He asks every time.

Joel doesn’t miss you, he doesn’t need you. He just likes how much you give. But you miss him, as soon as he pushes you out into the cold again you miss him. His greed is your purpose.

And so with your purpose, you push yourself down to the base of him. The waterline of your eyes is welling up fast, distorting your vision of him. You blink up at him like he’ll look down, like you’re more than a mouth. You aren’t, not to him, but you get to admire him like this. The puff of his chest, the swell of his throat, and his hands when they come to rip you off him.

He never pulls your hair, just grasps your face in his worn-down palms and pushes you away before jerking himself onto your naked body. 

“S’nice, you’re so nice t’me,” he grumbles. 

Under the yellow light in Joel’s living room, you feel useful. You’re doing more than surviving in this world. You have a purpose, even if he seldom needs you. He uses the sleeves of his flannel to wipe away the tears that slide down your cheeks, still mumbling about how sweet you are. Naked, smattered in him, you smile. Glittery eyes meet his and he snorts. 

“You were missin’ me, huh?” He teases. 

Joel rubs his thumb across your cheek again, the closest thing you’ll get to his lips on you. In his post-orgasmic haze, he almost looks fond. 

“He almost likes me,” your mind whispers, your stomach fluttering, “it’s almost like I belong.”

And once you’ve nodded in response to his question, messy mouthed and gazing at him, your purpose, he taps his thigh. Blood rushes to your head as you stand, crawling onto him. 

In your obedient mind, you define your efforts for Joel as a purpose, but you think you can taste a hint of belonging each time he spreads your legs. 

[meadowfics]

lost island, found love

hwang jun-ho x female!reader

warnings: descriptions of death, guns, angst, i added reader's background that was not in this request but I felt like it could bring jun-ho and reader together! i am not responsible for the content you choose to read.

word count: 4013

you stand in the dimly lit room, the stench of blood and decay thick in the air. the body of the salesman lies slumped against the wall, lifeless, his once smug face frozen in a grimace. your fingers tremble slightly as you lower your gun, the weight of everything crashing down on you.

mr. kim is gone, killed by this salesman who now lies dead in front of you. 

gi-hun’s frantic voice echoes in your memory…his desperation when he begged you to find answers, to bring justice in order to get money. now, with the salesman gone, the trail feels cold.  

you don’t want to be here. not anymore. not with everything else hanging over your head like a storm cloud. hana is missing. your little sister, your only family left in the world. you’ve scoured every corner of the city, turned over every rock, but nothing. no sign of her. she wouldn’t just disappear. not her. not without a word.  

“we don’t have time for this,” a voice cuts through your thoughts, sharp and impatient.  

you glance over your shoulder, your eyes meeting the man who’s been reluctantly dragged into this mess with you..jun-ho. a police officer, driven, stubborn, and entirely too by-the-book for your taste. 

he leans against the doorframe, his expression unreadable.  

“gi-hun’s been taken to the island,” he continues, his tone clipped. 

“those people with the masks, they don’t wait around. if we don’t move fast, we’ll lose the trail.”  

you grit your teeth, your mind warring between two equally impossible choices. find the island where gi-hun is being held, or keep searching for hana. it feels cruel, having to pick one over the other.  

“you think i don’t know that?” you snap, your voice harsher than you intended.  

jun-ho doesn’t flinch. he crosses his arms, his gaze steady and unyielding. 

“then let’s go. unless you’ve got another plan?”  

you hate him a little in that moment. his calmness. his ability to compartmentalize. you can’t do that. not when every step you take feels like a betrayal of your sister. you know he’s right. if you don’t act now, gi-hun’s fate is sealed.  

“fine,” you mutter, shoving past him. 

“but don’t get in my way.”  

he follows without a word, and for a while, the only sounds are your footsteps echoing through the empty streets. the weight of your gun presses against your hip, a constant reminder of what this life has turned you into.  

jun-ho finally breaks the silence. 

“why’d you take this job?”  

the question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t answer.  

“because someone had to,” you say finally, your voice low.

“gi-hun deserved that much after everything he’s been through.”  

jun-ho nods, but you can feel his eyes on you, studying, prying. you don’t offer more. not about mr. kim. not about hana. not about the hollow ache in your chest that refuses to go away.  

the journey ahead feels impossibly long, but you push forward, each step heavier than the last. you don’t know if you’ll ever find the answers you’re looking for.. about gi-hun, about hana, about yourself. but for now, all you can do is keep moving.  

the next morning.. you’re in the small boat with a bunch of your ex-special forces mates.. gently rocking on the light waves, the rhythmic lapping of water against the hull doing little to calm the storm in your mind. 

there is a map spread out on the bench in front of you that feels more like a cruel joke than a guide. you’ve traced every possible route, every last scrap of information gi-hun left behind, but it’s like the island doesn’t exist.  

even though jun-ho insists that the island is a real place, and that he has been there too.

“anything?” jun-ho’s voice breaks through the silence, rough from hours of tension. he’s standing at the bow, one hand resting on the edge, the other gripping his radio.  

you don’t answer immediately, your eyes scanning the coordinates again, hoping something will click. the frustration is mounting. you’re used to solving problems quickly, decisively. in the special forces, there was no room for hesitation or failure. 

now, every passing hour feels like a countdown to losing gi-hun forever.  

“no,” you finally mutter, shoving the map aside. 

“it’s like they’ve erased the damn place off the face of the earth.”  

jun-ho exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. he’s trying to keep it together, but you can see the cracks forming. five days. that’s all the time you have before the trail goes completely cold, and neither of you can afford to waste another second.  

“we’re missing something,” he says, turning to face you. 

“they wouldn’t go through all this trouble just to make the island impossible to find. there has to be a way in. some clue we’re overlooking.”  

you lean back against the bench, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. your mind races through everything you’ve learned so far, piecing together fragments of intel like a puzzle.  

“it’s not just about the location,” you say, more to yourself than to him. 

“they’ve got to have a system. patterns. supply routes. something that gives them away.”  

jun-ho nods, stepping closer. 

“you think we’re being followed?”  

you glance up at him, narrowing your eyes. the thought hadn’t occurred to you until now, but it makes sense. an operation this big wouldn’t just let two random people snooping around go unnoticed.  

“probably,” you admit. 

“which means we’re running out of time faster than we thought.”  

he frowns, his jaw tightening. 

“great. so, we’re sitting ducks out here.”  

you pull your handgun from its holster, checking the magazine out of habit. 

“not exactly. i’m not going down without a fight.”  

jun-ho smirks faintly, though the tension never leaves his eyes. 

“you really are a piece of work, you know that?”  

“and you’re irritating,” you shoot back, sliding the gun back into place.

“guess we make a great team.”  

hours later.. the sun dips lower into the horizon, casting long shadows across the boat’s deck. the waves lap gently against the sides of the boat, though it does little to calm your racing thoughts.  

you glance over at jun-ho, standing near the bow with his hands gripping the edge. the man’s posture is tense, his shoulders squared as if bracing against some invisible weight. 

he hasn’t said much in hours, and you can’t help but notice the way his eyes flick toward the horizon and back, as though searching for something..or avoiding something.  

breaking the silence, you clear your throat. 

“you said you’ve been on this island before,” you start, your voice low but firm. 

“what did you find? if you don’t mind me asking.”  

jun-ho doesn’t turn to face you. his knuckles whiten against the edge of the boat, and his jaw tightens. the way his body stiffens tells you more than his silence does. he’s holding something back.  

“it’s... complicated,” he says after a long pause, his voice tight.  

you frown, stepping closer. 

“complicated how?”  

he finally turns his head, his dark eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before looking away. 

“it’s not something i like talking about.”  

jun ho’s answer frustrates you, but you bite back the sharp retort sitting on the tip of your tongue. you don’t have time for vague responses, not when every passing hour feels like another nail in the coffin for gi-hun..or worse, for hana who you could be looking for instead.  

“look,” you say, trying to keep your tone measured, “if we’re going to do this together, i need to know what we’re up against. whatever you saw, whatever you know, it could be the difference between us finding gi-hun or walking into a trap.”  

the police officer’s gaze drops to the deck, and for a moment, he says nothing. the sound of the waves fills the void, each crash amplifying the weight of his silence.  

“i saw the frontman,” he says finally, his voice barely audible.  

“wha- huh? the frontman?” you repeat, confused.  

he nods, his eyes still fixed on the deck. 

“he’s the one running the show, the man in charge of the island…i never got a good look at him. he always wore a mask but he nearly killed me.”  

the tension in your chest tightens like a coil. this new piece of information does little to ease your anxiety. did gi-hun know about this?

“that’s it?” you press, your frustration bleeding into your voice. 

“you didn’t see anything else?”  

jun-ho hesitates, his jaw clenching as if debating whether or not to say more. 

“no,” he says after a moment, but the hesitation in his tone sets off alarms in your head.  

“what aren’t you telling me?” you ask, stepping closer, your eyes narrowing.  

“nothing,” he snaps, a little too quickly.  

you don’t believe him, but you let it go for now. pushing him won’t get you the answers you need, and you can feel your own nerves fraying with every passing second.  

your thoughts drift, unbidden, to hana. the anxiety creeps in like a shadow, wrapping around your chest and squeezing until it’s hard to breathe. 

where is she? is she safe? the thought of her being hurt..or worse..makes your stomach churn.  

jun-ho’s voice breaks through your spiraling thoughts. 

“what’s your other problem?” he asks, his tone softer now, almost hesitant. 

“you mentioned it before, but you didn’t tell me what it was.”  

you hesitate, your fingers twitching at your sides. you’ve kept this to yourself for days, carrying the weight of it alone because you didn’t think anyone else would understand. but now, standing here with jun-ho, you feel the tiniest crack in your resolve.  

“it’s my sister,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.  

jun-ho’s brow furrows, concern flashing in his eyes. 

“your sister?”  

you nod, swallowing hard. 

“her name’s hana. she went missing a few days ago. no note, no sign of where she might’ve gone. we don’t have money and our parents died a few years ago, so it’s not like she could’ve just left on her own. she wouldn’t do that. she wouldn’t just disappear.”  

jun ho’s expression shifts, something unreadable flickering across his face… his hands clench at his sides, he looks as though he’s reliving a memory he’d rather forget.  

“maybe your sister is on the island too,” he mumbles, almost to himself.  

the words hit you like a slap. your head snaps up, your eyes widening. 

“excuse me?”  

he hesitates, his gaze dropping. 

“there’s something you need to know,” he says quietly, his voice weighed down by something heavy.  

you don’t say anything, your stomach twisting into knots as he sits down on the bench and motions for you to join him. you hesitate for a moment before sitting beside him, the tension between you almost unbearable.  

“the island,” he begins, his tone measured but laced with something darker, “isn’t just a place. it’s a... game. a series of games, actually. people are brought there, and they’re forced to compete. if they win, they get an obscene amount of money. if they lose...”  

he trails off, but you don’t need him to finish. the implication is clear, and it makes your blood run cold.  

“you’re telling me it’s some kind of... death game?” you whisper, your voice trembling.  

he nods grimly. 

“exactly that… and if your sister is there...”  

you don’t let him finish. you can’t. the thought is too unbearable. if hana is on that island, then every second counts.  

“did she leave anything behind?” jun-ho asks, his voice gentler now.  

you shake your head, your mind racing. 

“nothing. no clues, no messages. just... gone.”  

you feel something on your left hand and you look down to see that his hand brushes yours, tentative but steady. you glance at him, startled by the contact, but his expression is soft, almost reassuring. 

“we’ll find her,” he says, his voice quiet but firm.  

for a moment, you don’t respond. the weight of his words, the sincerity in his voice..it’s almost too much to bear.  

“thanks,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion.  

the two of you sit there in silence as the moon rises above the ocean, casting its pale light over the water. without thinking, you lean against him, your head resting lightly on his chest. he stiffens at first but then relaxes, his arm brushing around your shoulders in a way that feels deliberate.  

“we’ll figure this out,” he says again, his voice steady now.  

you nod, closing your eyes for a brief moment. the closeness between you feels... safe. like you’re not alone in this, even if it’s just for a night.  

by the time the sun rises, the moment is over. the vulnerability, the quiet intimacy.. it’s gone, replaced by the sharp focus of the mission ahead. neither of you mention it, but something unspoken lingers in the air, a bond forged in shared fears and quiet confessions.  

four days. that’s all you have left. 

in the early afternoon.. the boat slows as it approaches the shoreline. you grip the semi-automatic rifle in your hands, its familiar weight a comfort despite the unease settling in your chest. 

the island looms ahead, shadowed and uninviting, with dense foliage lining the shore and no sign of life beyond the eerie stillness.  

jun-ho steps off the boat first, his movements precise and calculated. the police officer’s handgun is holstered at his side as he holds the bigger automatic in his hands, his posture is straight. 

you follow, your boots crunching softly against the gravel as you step onto the narrow path ahead. the rest of the team falls in line behind you, their weapons raised, eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger.  

jun-ho turns to face the group, his expression stern.

“i’ll take point,” he says firmly, his gaze meeting yours briefly before moving on.  

“i can lead,” you interject, your voice steady but firm.  

“no?” you say. 

“yes.” he protests. 

“well, mr. policeman– were you in the special forces or is this you saying that you do not tru-” 

“let me just protect you, okay?” he says your name after. jun ho is clear. he shakes his head, his jaw tightening. 

the words catch you off guard, a warmth creeping into your chest despite the gravity of the situation. your grip on the rifle tightens as you search for something to say, but all you manage is a curt nod.  

“fine,” you mutter, falling into step behind him.  

the trail is narrow, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side. bushes and vines press in from both sides, the occasional rustle of leaves setting your nerves on edge. jun-ho’s steps are deliberate, his eyes constantly scanning the path ahead, while you cover his back, your weapon at the ready.  

you clear your throat, your voice low. 

“everything look okay up there?”  

he glances over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “so far,” he replies, his tone clipped but calm.  

the tension between you hums like a live wire, unspoken words lingering in the air. it’s not just the situation..it’s him. the way he moves, the way he keeps glancing back at you, as if he’s making sure you’re still there.  

you push the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand. the gravel crunches beneath your boots as the trail twists and turns, the thick canopy overhead blocking out most of the sunlight. the rest of the team moves in a tight formation, their weapons raised, their eyes darting to every shadow.  

“trail’s too clean,” you mutter under your breath, your gaze sweeping the ground. 

“like it’s been used recently.”  

jun-ho nods, his jaw tightening. 

“I noticed.”  

you glance at him, your brows furrowing. 

“so, what’s the plan if this is a setup?”  

he doesn’t answer right away, his focus on the path ahead. when he finally speaks, his voice is low and deliberate. 

“we deal with it. we’ve gotten this far.”  

jun ho’s confidence is steadying, even if you don’t entirely share it. you scan the surrounding foliage, the weight of the rifle in your hands grounding you.  

the gravel path suddenly widens, opening into a small clearing. jun-ho raises his hand, signaling for everyone to stop. the group freezes, weapons raised, as his sharp eyes scan the area.  

“what is it?” you ask, stepping closer to him.  

he gestures to the far side of the clearing, where another trail picks up. 

“it splits. two paths.”  

your stomach tightens. splitting up isn’t ideal, but staying bunched together could make you an easy target.  

“we should split into two groups,” jun-ho says, his voice calm but authoritative. 

“cover more ground.”  

you hesitate, glancing at him. 

“are you sure about that? we don’t know what’s out here.”  

“that’s why we keep communication tight,” he replies, his gaze locking with yours. 

“stay close to your group. and don’t take risks.”  

“fine,” you say again, your voice softer this time.  

as the group splits, you end up with jun-ho, a decision that seems less about strategy and more about his insistence on staying close to you. you can feel the others’ eyes on you, their curiosity unspoken but palpable.  

the new trail is narrower, the overgrowth pressing in from both sides. jun-ho keeps his pace steady, his shoulders brushing against yours occasionally as the path twists and turns. the silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken tension.  

finally, he breaks it. 

“you okay back there?”  

“i can handle myself,” you reply, a touch of defensiveness in your tone.  

he glances at you, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. 

“i know. doesn’t mean i won’t worry.”  

the warmth from earlier returns, stronger this time. you focus on the path ahead, unwilling to let him see how his words affect you.  

twelve hours later.. in the middle of the night in the lounge area, you feel suffocated. even with the boat’s attempt at cozy decor. the low hum of the boat engine is drowned out by the relentless patter of rain against the windows. 

you sit on the worn-out couch, staring blankly at the table in front of you. the rain, usually a source of comfort, does nothing to soothe the storm brewing inside you.  

you feel defeated. empty.  

the mission on the island earlier had led to nothing. the island turned out to be nothing more than a small, desolate beach. no inhabitants. no clues. nothing. 

three days left, and it felt like you were running out of time faster than you could grasp.  

your chest tightens as your thoughts drift to hana. after losing your parents, she was the only person who made life bearable. she kept you grounded, gave you a purpose and a source to keep surviving after leaving the special forces. when mr. kim introduced you to gi-hun, you found a new sense of direction, but hana? hana was always home, and now she is gone.  

your eyes sting, and before you know it, tears are slipping down your cheeks. you wipe at them angrily, frustrated at yourself for breaking down when you should be focusing. however, the thought of your sister..alone, scared, maybe hurt or worse..it’s too much.  

“why would she do this?” you whisper to the empty room, your voice trembling. 

“why would she risk her life for money?”  

your hands tremble as they clench into fists on your lap. you know the answer. it was always about survival, about getting out of the hole life had thrown you both into. hana didn’t know the cost. she didn’t know about the games, about the killings. 

she didn’t know that the promise of wealth came with the risk of ending up in a coffin on some forgotten island.  

a sob escapes your lips, and you bury your face in your hands, the weight of it all crashing down. the fear, the hopelessness, the anger.. it spills out in ragged breaths and muffled cries.  

you don’t notice the quiet footsteps until you feel a pair of arms wrap around you, pulling you into a warm, soft chest on the couch.  

“it’s okay,” jun-ho’s voice is soft, steady, grounding. 

“we’ll find her.”  

you stiffen at first, caught off guard by his presence, but his hand moves up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes, and you let yourself lean into him.  

“i don’t know...” you choke out, your voice breaking. 

“i don’t know if we can.”  

jun-ho pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you. his eyes are filled with something you don’t expect.. understanding.  

“i lost my brother many years ago,” he says quietly, his voice tinged with a sadness that matches your own.  

you blink, your tears pausing for a moment. 

“your brother?”  

he nods, his gaze distant. 

“he disappeared without a trace. for years, i didn’t know what happened to him. i thought he was dead. then, when i found him... he wasn’t the same.”  

you can see the pain etched into his features, the weight of a story he hasn’t told anyone else.  

“but you know what?” he continues, his voice growing firmer. 

“i still went after him because he was my brother.. because that’s what you do for your family. and that’s what we’re going to do for your sister. we’re going to find hana. we’re going to find gi-hun, and we’re going to end this.”  

jun ho’s words wrap around you like a lifeline, pulling you out of the spiral of despair. you don’t know how he does it.

you don’t say anything, but you shift closer to him, burying your face in his chest again. the policeman’s arms tighten around you, holding you like he’s the only thing keeping you together.  

as the rain continues to fall outside, the world beyond the boat fades away. all you can feel is the warmth of his embrace, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his presence anchors you.  

after a while, you sit up, wiping at your tear-streaked face. jun-ho reaches out, his thumb brushing against your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. the tenderness of the gesture sends a shiver through you.  

“you’re way stronger than you think,” he says softly, his voice carrying a quiet conviction.  

your eyes meet his, and something shifts in the air between you. the tension that’s been building over the past few days comes to a head, and before you can think twice, you lean in.  

the moment your lips meet his, it’s like the rest of the world disappears. the man’s left hand cups your cheek and his right hand grabs your lower waist, pulling you closer, and you feel the weight of his kiss. 

he kisses you back with a quiet dominance, his other hand resting on your waist, holding you steady. it’s not just a kiss…it’s a promise. a promise that he’s here, that he’ll protect you, that you’re not alone.  

your hands find their way to his shoulders, clutching at him like he’s the only thing tethering you to reality. the rain pounds against the windows, the boat rocking gently with the waves, but all you can focus on is him.  

when you finally pull back, your breaths are heavy, your foreheads resting against each other. his eyes search yours, and you see the same vulnerability reflected back at you.  

“we’ll get through this,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady.  

you nod, your fingers brushing against his jaw. 

“together.”  

he kisses you again, slower this time, as if savoring the moment. and for the first time in days, you feel a spark of hope reignite in your chest.  

outside, the rain continues to fall, the boat drifting along the waves. somewhere out there is the island you’ve been searching for, the answers you desperately need. 

for now, at this moment, all you can think about is the strong man holding you and how his lips give you the reassurance that you desperately need.

a/n: hope you enjoyed <3

[moonlight-records]

Favorite Days | Multiple drivers

who's involved?: ln4, cl16, mv33, lh44, op81 & bonus

summary: a glimpse into driver's favorite thing they do with you

warning: fluff. just so much fluff.

fc: n/a

wc: 1.6k

a/n: hi! holiday season is fast upon us and so is my chaotic work schedule! with that my series: playlist series, toto concert series, and rbdhh are going to take longer for me to roll out but i have not forgotten them!

Max loves nothing than being an introvert with you. If Max could have it his way, the two of you would just stay home unless necessary. How could he not? When he’s streaming and takes a moment to turn around and see you on the couch watching TV. Jimmy and Sassy both curled up around you as you lazily pet whichever one is close. The way you’re so invested and silently reacting when you aggressively toss a hand out in shock. When you catch him staring and point to the TV as if he’s been watching the entire time seeing the same shit she is and he can’t help but smile and return to his stream. His favorite was ending stream and immediately going to you. You shift a bit to make room as Max lays on you, hugging your waist and he melts when you run your nails through his hair. How you two could stay like this for hours and be content in each other’s silence. It was pure bliss.

Lando adores game nights with you. He adores how you are so not competitive compared to him for most things. While Lando got really into games, even like Jenga, you were so nonchalant about it. You just smiled and laughed at Lando when he went on his little rants or his little gloats. He knew that you knew it wasn’t that deep. Though his favorite was you two playing ‘Overcooked’. It was the only time you got serious about a game. Suddenly you were calling the shots and now Lando was the one laughing as you yelled at him for forgetting a tomato or something. He almost fell over laughing the next time you two played and you presented two chef hats and told him you were giving him some ‘call out lessons’. Lando got them mixed up which resulted in him screaming from laughter as you gently smacked him with one of the pillows while shouting ‘HAVE I TAUGHT YOU NOTHING?’ It’s his favorite side of you during game night for sure.

Charles enjoys going on side quests with you. Charles really did try to balance his work and home life and he thought that he did well. Yet according to some of his ex’s they can’t handle all these random “side-quests” he takes (though he always made it a point to tell them). Yet, you are the complete opposite of them. You absolutely adored the random side quests Charles got to go on and was ecstatic when you got to join him because that meant more side-quests. You two getting lost to one restaurant and finding a cute ma and pop shop. Sometimes you guys would plan to hit a bar and end up outside, eating ice-cream, just people watching. Sometimes you two would just go out to walk and see where the day would take you guys. You were so easy going and just enjoying quality time with Charles that it was a breath of fresh air that he could be himself.

Lewis loves to spend a night in and cook with you because you always kept it interesting. The first time Lewis had ever cooked with you was in Brazil when he brought you to his house. You had insisted you wanted to help him cook and he let it. He had looked away for two seconds and whipped around to a very small fire starting on the pasta. You two swiftly put it out and Lewis couldn’t help the laugh as you apologize profusely. He reassured you that he is not upset or laughing at you but he’s laughing at the sheer shock of the situation. Lewis thought it was a fluke but realized the longer you two date that this is just you cooking. He found it both amazingly scary but truly enduring at your ability to take a simple dish and create some chaos about it. Though Lewis has now found peace in the chaos and laughter that followed along with the ‘how did you manage this?!’ ‘i don’t know this is a first!’ conversation.

Oscar finds the most mundane things exciting when you’re with him. Shopping his favorite thing to do with you. Typically, Oscar is in and out with the bare necessities for him to survive until another race weekend and only doubles during breaks. Though when you join him, shopping becomes the most interesting thing ever. It always starts with iced coffee and ‘we’re only buying what we need’ though you both know that’s far from the truth. He just happily pushes the cart as you walk up and down every aisle. Stopping to sniff the candles before getting both because it’s a ‘little treat’ and the ‘sale is too good to pass up’ (as if you were paying). He lets you pick out matching pajamas, board games, all the snacks and drinks. Oscar happily pays for everything and helps you load the car up and unload the car before you two are in your own little world for days on end.

Bonus!

Logan loves amusement parks at heart and it was bonus that you also love amusement parks. The two of you always made it a point to see if there was an amusement park nearby the hotel or track when he was in F1 and go check it out. When Logan was let go, he was absolutely devastated and really didn’t want to do anything. Though, when you mention that you’ve never been to Universal, Logan is rolling out of bed rambling bout how his parents had just renewed the family annual passes. Logan seemed to come to life after parking and making his way up the escalator with you and walking into the City Walk. The two of you went into Island’s first to some rides. You deemed the ‘Cat In The Hat’ ride was the weirdest ride you’ve done yet but overall, 9.5/10. You two then hopped over to Hollywood studios where you experienced the joy that is ‘The Mummy’. You two had a dance party in Spongebob’s shop under the pineapple (that you two were a little big for but still fit comfortably) before ending it with some Fat Tuesday’s and Voodoo Donuts. It seems that Logan can never have a bad day when he’s at an amusement park, sharing the joys of memories with you as he steps back, looking at all the photos he paid for from the rides smiling to himself.

Mick loves a good snow day. The days where there’s too much snow so everyone stays home. He loves making a cup of hot chocolate and just looking at the snow enjoying the quiet before you come in and gasp before disappearing. He turns seeing you come out about five minutes later, all bundled up and rushing out the door. Mick is quick to follow, bundling himself up before opening the door and getting a snowball right to the face. Mick shakes his head out before rushing you the best he can. He ends up tackling you, the two of you laughing and rolling in the snow as Nala, the Saint Bernard puppy you two had recently adopted, comes out and jumps around. She tries to eat as much snow as possible which you and Mick try to control so she’s not puking up water. The three of you (really you and Mick with Nala barking for support) make a snowman before Mick ushers you three in. Getting dried off, the three of you cuddle up under a blanket to watch movies.

Arthur loves playing music with you. Typically, Arthur is rather bashful about the music he makes as the imposter syndrome seeps in. Though when it comes to you, Arthur could sit for hours playing. His favorite is when you showed an interest in learning piano. The two of you on the piano bench, he guides your hand to the keys. Arthur rambles on about the keys and gently plays a scale before looking at you. He smiles seeing you try to intimate him, sticking his tongue out. It didn’t sound as fluid as him but you hit all the keys right. He gently places his hands over yours, guiding your hands to play the scale while murmuring about relaxing as you were so tense. It took you about three lessons to finally relax, which Arthur took as a huge win. His favorite is when he’s playing a piece and he glances over, seeing how you watch him with such a proud and loving smile. How your eyes sparkle in awe and how you whisper ‘wow’ as you watch him. He may never release his music to the public but he would gladly play all of them for you.

Toto actually quiet enjoys rainy days. He enjoys waking up to the sound of rain and watching the rain fall while he drinks his morning coffee. Typically, Toto would move as many meetings to Zoom as he could and only go into the office if necessary but there were rare days that he had nothing schedule when he wakes up to a rainy day. Now these days are his favorite because he loves watching you sleepily make coffee in one of his shirt. How you gently cradle your mug and take a sip and sigh in relief. Toto loves watching you shuffle to the living room and pick up your kindle before curling up on the couch. How you look up with a happy but sleepy smile as he sits next to you on the couch with his own coffee in the hand and blanket. Placing the blanket over both of you, Toto moved his arm as you cuddled up into his side. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, he turns the TV on, gently resting his cheek on top of your head as you two spend the morning laying around. Rainy days were truly his favorite.

[circeyoru]

Shadow and Void _ Part 4

[Yandere!Sung Jinwoo x Enemy Monarch!Reader]

Part 1 ― Part 2 ― Part 3 ― Part 4 (here)

You want to kill something—someone to be specific—right now. Even as you were surrounded with snacks you liked, you hated the situation unfolding before you. The mind of a human is just too weird for you to understand in any sense.

You angrily bit on the chip between your fingers with a loud and resounding snap that broke the silence while your eyes drilled holes into the man who was basically holding you there against your will, maybe with some form of bribe, but it was definitely not the snacks. Definitely.

“Just let her in your guild, you edge lord.” You hissed as you took the female Hunter’s side, annoyed at the various ridiculous excuses Jinwoo listed to push Hae-In away. You would admit that you’re impressed with her resilience when facing such a menace; then again, she is in love, and love makes one do crazy things.

Jinwoo had half a mind to know not to voice out the question of how and why you’d know such phrasing, since there was Cha Hae-In present and there was no need to raise alarm bells. Though the greatest reason was that he didn’t want another to know about you or what you are precisely. He can’t say he’s bothered by the way your eyes stared at him, all focused and guarded, ready to take Hae-In hostage if the situation calls for it.

Ah, but it won’t be much help to you. You’d have picked the wrong target. If it were someone like his mother or younger sister, then there’d be an effect you’d wanted. However, this was Hae-In, he barely met her and she barely knew him. That can’t be the case between you two. 

He knew about your being as a Monarch and an inhuman thing using a human body as a vessel, you knew about his levelling-up system that granted him his status as an S-Rank and all his other abilities. He and you could be your true selves in each other’s presence, no filter, no expectations of fulfilling anything. In a sense, he felt more at peace with you than the other people around him. Like you were someone as close to him as family. 

Perhaps this was the after-effects of viewing the memories between you and Ashborn, but that was his thoughts.

“There’s an entrance test before I can allow you to join, Hunter Cha.” Jinwoo stated nonchalantly.

You raised a brow while Hae-In flinched in alarm, “H- Huh?! That wasn’t in the recruiting notice…”

“A mistake, since we were busy these few days.” Jinwoo got up and eyed you to do the same, you complied while bringing along your unfinished snacks. “If you think it’s too sudden and unreasonable, you can―”

“What kind of test is it?” Hae-In asked with resolve.

You practically saw the shock in Jinwoo’s eyes, hiding a snicker as you internally mocked his poor insight into a woman’s determination. 

“You have to win against one of my summons.” Jinwoo laid out the simple yet vague requirement. 

“Is the evaluation of me in your eyes so low, Hunter Sung?” Hae-In’s tone turned firm and solid, nothing like her previous blushing mess. You can’t miss the fire burning in her eyes, “What kind of summon is it?”

With a cruel thought, you wondered if killing this Hunter for Ashborn and adding her to his army would be a good enough apology gift. Then again, you had to do it when the vessel’s soul is gone and Ashborn is back to fully appreciate your work well done. You’ll keep the thought in mind for the future. For now, you’ll let the humans deal with their business.

“For you, Hunter Cha, I’ll use my strongest summon ally.” Just as you were leaving the scene, Jinwoo’s hand placed firmly on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. You looked up at him in confusion and question as he looked down with a smirk. “This one.”

Hae-In jumped, “You’re a summon?! But you’re so… So…”

“Human?” Jinwoo smiled, leaning down to your level as his face was next to yours and made eye contact with Hae-In, “Yes, this is my perfect ally and companion in battle; it wouldn’t be good for a monster to be around me, right?”

You glared at Jinwoo, completely unaware of the conflicted expression on Hae-In’s face as your back was facing her. You whispered a hiss at him, “What are you doing? Don’t drag me into this.”

“A small deal then.” Jinwoo whispered back, taking advantage of Hae-In’s inner turmoil. “If you can ward Hunter Cha from joining my guild, you won’t have to stay by my side all the time. In other words, defeat Hunter cha and you get some free time for yourself without me around.”

That got your attention and you turned to glance at Hae-In. This woman can’t even manage to hold this vessel’s attention for long, not to mention how you were now dragged into some useless fight. Even if you let her into the guild, her use wasn’t much and she is weak compared to this vessel before you. The comparison was unfair, but it was the truth.

“Fine, but you keep your word.”

“Of course.”

You turned your heel and dumped the snacks back onto the coffee table. Taking a page out of Igris’ book, you stood at attention and fixed your expression to a more stoic and indifferent look, your chin angled down and your hands were placed behind your back, your eyes stared sharply at Hae-In. “My Lord has suggested I do battle with you for your place in his guild,” You offered your hand as you asked, “Should you accept, only if you win against me will you be considered acceptance. Do you still wish to partake in the duel?”

Jinwoo was almost taken aback with your shift in attitude and character. Not that he found fault in it, but rather, he was more drawn to you. It was smart of him to make such an appealing offer to you. The System’s information was right on the money. You are so self-centered and willing to abandon others for your own cause.

Now, all he needed to do was make sure you don’t can’t leave him.

His eyes glowed briefly when Hae-In’s hand gripped yours with a firm nod that meant ‘yes’. The moment you looked over as if asking for approval made his heart skip a beat, you were acting just like an actual Shadow soldier of his. He nodded back and watched you raise your other hand to snap your fingers. 

In the blink of an eye, all three of you were transported to another dimension. All your surroundings were misty, and even the ground was covered with a layer of fog that obscured their vision of their own feet. You had long walked off from Jinwoo’s side, only when he snapped back to attention did he realize he was standing at the perfect angle to see you and Hae-In on either side of a field of sorts.

“Here, we can battle without restraint.” You said, and with another snap of your fingers, a rack of weapons appeared by Hae-In’s side. “Pick your weapon, and we will begin on My Lord’s mark.”

So Jinwoo was right; you could have escaped to your own realm at any moment, with or without his consent and knowledge. Why you haven’t done so was odd, but that also proves how much of a hold Ashborn has on you. If only he could shift your attention from his predecessor to himself. 

Hae-In picked a long sword while you stood immobile. 

“Ready.”

Hae-In got into a stance, but you were as still as can be like you were frozen in place.

“Set.”

Hae-In’s mana aura surrounded her, charging her blade as well. You did nothing.

“Go!”

Hae-In took the initiative and charged forward, planning to end the duel with one quick decisive move. However, just before her blade reached you, you had disappeared in thin air. As quickly as you disappeared, you materialized behind Hae-In and kicked her in the back to send her flying to the side. You stood at your spot, fixing your clothes, tugging at your sleeves from your movement.

Swiftly, Hae-In had recovered and remained on the offensive. Your head tilted and you dodged her incoming attacks with graceful movements. The way you put minimum effort into this was almost like you were toying with the Hunter. Your monotonous expression and your hands behind your back were screaming handicap. It may look like an advantage to Hae-In, but it hurt her pride.

“Fight me for real.” Hae-In panted, finding this play irritating.

You merely blinked and hummed. Your eyes darted over to Jinwoo’s analytic look, no doubt he was watching this fight with a hawk, mainly judging your abilities than Hae-In’s qualifications to join the guild. You knew and he knew, there was no way Hae-In could win against you, a Monarch. It was only a matter of how to create that loss without death.

If only you could kill. Then everything would be so easy. You sighed, momentarily closing your eyes before they opened and glowed, “Humans are so ignorant of their limits…”

Note: Probably not the update you guys wanted, but I've been writing for this series still~ I'm thinking of making the parts longer cause of the gaps between updates though, not just for this series, but maybe for future posts too.

𝕮𝖎𝖗𝖈𝖊 𝖄.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: @o-qi-shisme @2021animeandwebtoons @mochinon-yah @skylar896 @rai-xxx @lilliana-14 @larettajudith

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Ok so Harry has a tendency to blatantly state out loud just how much the Dursleys don't give two shits about him (to the point that the people around him think it's just a typical teenager over exaggerating their complaints), but... Does he realise that the way he is being treated by them is wrong?

Also like, I know that the way the Dursleys treated him plays a huge part in the way Harry behaves and views himself- specifically him not thinking an adult is a reliable source of help and protection + his disastrouly low self esteem + how he doesn't respond to Snape's everything (which is the exact opposite of what James would have done) ... But what are the other ways in which he got affected and it shows? (Someone once mentioned that they hc that when feeling extreme emotions Harry tends to skip out on food and may have nearly wasted away in his second year had it not been for Ron and Hermione- which is also why they act so much like Harry's bodyguards)

Yep, Harry put no effort into hiding his abuse. He literally told anyone who would listen. By 5th year, he was making jokes about it to Ron and Hermione who seemed used to it.

Now, you've raised a few questions and I'll try to answer them to the best of my ability.

Does he realise that the way he is being treated by them is wrong?

I think he does. Most of his comments about his relatives' treatment definitely sound like Harry is very aware that he shouldn't be treated like that.

“I told you, I didn’t — but it’ll take too long to explain now — look, can you tell them at Hogwarts that the Dursleys have locked me up and won’t let me come back, and obviously I can’t magic myself out, because the Ministry’ll think that’s the second spell I’ve done in three days, so —” “Stop gibbering,” said Ron. “We’ve come to take you home with us.” “But you can’t magic me out either —” “We don’t need to,” said Ron, jerking his head toward the front seat and grinning. “You forget who I’ve got with me.” “Tie that around the bars,” said Fred, throwing the end of a rope to Harry. “If the Dursleys wake up, I’m dead,” said Harry as he tied the rope tightly around a bar and Fred revved up the car. “Don’t worry,” said Fred, “and stand back.”

(COS, page 31)

“It was cloudy, Mum!” said Fred. “You keep your mouth closed while you’re eating!” Mrs. Weasley snapped. “They were starving him, Mum!” said George. “And you!” said Mrs. Weasley, but it was with a slightly softened expression that she started cutting Harry bread and buttering it for him.

(COS, page 39)

But Harry wasn’t going to stand for this. Gone were the days when he had been forced to take every single one of the Dursleys’ stupid rules.

(GOF, page 33)

“Excellent,” said Lupin, looking up as Tonks and Harry entered. “We’ve got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we’re ready. Harry, I’ve left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry —” “They won’t,” said Harry. “That you’re safe —” “That’ll just depress them.” “— and you’ll see them next summer.” “Do I have to?” Lupin smiled but made no answer.

(OOTP, page 54)

“You don’t seem to need many qualifications to liaise with Muggles. . . . All they want is an O.W.L. in Muggle Studies. . . . ‘Much more important is your enthusiasm, patience, and a good sense of fun!’ ” “You’d need more than a good sense of fun to liaise with my uncle,” said Harry darkly. “Good sense of when to duck, more like . . .”

(OOTP, page 657)

It seems Harry is very much aware that the way he is being treated is wrong. the younger Weasleys and Hermione are clearly aware of that too. Harry calls the Dursleys' rules stupid, he knows the Dursleys aren't treating him the way they should and that he doesn't have to take it. That he shouldn't have to take it.

Harry is kind of a best-case scenario of an abused kid and Dumbledore was so lucky Harry ended up functional enough for his plans. It could've so easily gone down differently.

Honestly, I'm enraged on Harry's behalf at how Arthur, Molly, and Lupin (and every other adult) just completely ignore his mistreatment. He really does just state plainly what's going on and has Ron, Fred, George, and Hermione backing up everything he says.

What are the other ways in which he got affected and it shows?

I do like when Harry's approach to food is affected by the Dursleys starving him, that being said, there isn't really any book evidence for it. It's an interesting headcanon to explore though. His low self-esteem, willingness to endanger himself, and his thinking that adults be counted on are definitely effects seen in the books. As for other things we do see in the books:

1. Harry is actually really quiet. He doesn't speak as much as Ron and Hermione and he's pretty awkward with social interaction. He mimics Ron in many ways since he never had any friends before him.

His approach to studying is one of the ways he mimics Ron socially. Harry actually read their school books before 1st year, he found Hedwig's name in a History of Magic. And he planned to study at the beginning of Philosopher's Stone. Then he meets Ron and realizes no one in Gryffindor except Hermione actually studies, and she is hated for it. So he didn't bother studying either, even though he planned to because he wanted to fit in.

2. Harry isn't great at emotional regulation, specifically anger. Harry is a pretty angry character and throughout the books, he actually has moments when he completely loses himself to a sense of anger.

A boiling hate erupted in Harry’s chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in his life, he wanted his wand back in his hand, not to defend himself, but to attack . . . to kill.

(POA, page 339)

“Madame Maxime!” said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. “Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!” Somewhere under Harry’s numb disbelief he felt a ripple of anger. Little boy?

(GOF, page 275)

Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him. . . . If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse . . . he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching. . . .

(GOF, page 300)

If Dudley’s friends saw him sitting here, they would be sure to make a beeline for him, and what would Dudley do then? He wouldn’t want to lose face in front of the gang, but he’d be terrified of provoking Harry. . . . It would be really fun to watch Dudley’s dilemma; to taunt him, watch him, with him powerless to respond . . . and if any of the others tried hitting Harry, Harry was ready — he had his wand . . . let them try . . . He’d love to vent some of his frustration on the boys who had once made his life hell —

(OOTP, page 11)

He does calm down the older he gets. But he definitely has a lot of anger in him.

3. Harry, in general, has a disrespect for authority. I assume this is an extension of his distrust of adults, in that no teacher or nurse ever helped him. Harry is so anti-authority and anti-orders, that he can resist the Imperius Curse decently from the first try.

Harry just doesn't do orders or authority. Actually in the earlier books, and even in books 6 and 7, Harry has his doubts about Dumbledore. He repeatedly tells people he's Dumbledore's man, but in his head, he has doubts. Like he has for any other adult with authority over him.

“Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!” he hissed. “He’s not as gone as you might think!” Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true —

(COS, page 282)

“Because the Ministry of Magic’s still after me, and Voldemort will know all about me being an Animagus by now, Wormtail will have told him, so my big disguise is useless. There’s not much I can do for the Order of the Phoenix . . . or so Dumbledore feels.” There was something about the slightly flattened tone of voice in which Sirius uttered Dumbledore’s name that told Harry that Sirius was not very happy with the headmaster either. Harry felt a sudden upsurge of affection for his godfather.

(OOTP, pages 82-83)

He's very distrusting of adults and authority, but also his peers. He doesn't tell Ron and Hermione everything in the earlier books because he is very slow to trust. Which, makes sense for someone who grew up like he did.

4. His occasional impulsiveness is an extension of his issues with emotional regulation, I think.

5. I think Harry's cunning Slytherin streak is a result of his abuse. The Dursleys' mistreatment taught him to sneak around, to lie, to be clever. It taught him to keep a blank face when being yelled at because if he reacted it'll make it worse.

He learned how to insult the Dursleys in ways that go over Dudley's head. His little way to rebel.

6. His response to pain as well. We see it with Umbridge and the blood quill for example:

He let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Harry’s right hand, cut into his skin as though traced there by a scalpel — yet even as he stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth. Harry looked around at Umbridge. She was watching him, her wide, toadlike mouth stretched in a smile. “Yes?” “Nothing,” said Harry quietly. He looked back at the parchment, placed the quill upon it once more, wrote I must not tell lies, and felt the searing pain on the back of his hand for a second time

(OOTP, page 267)

Harry can hide his pain and not react to it, and he does it well. He learned from the Dursleys that she wants to see his pain, and he isn't going to give her what she wants. Instead, he grits his teeth through it and doesn't react externally.

Even later in the book when Umbridge threatens with the Crociatus Curse, Harry just braces himself for it, not planning to break (in later books too, Harry is very willing to get hurt and just deal with it). He is willing to take torture without reacting, and I think this is something he got from the Dursleys.

These are the some other things that came to mind regarding your question. There are probably more that I can't think of now that I might add later. Harry is who he is in part because of his nightmare of a childhood. So many facets of his personality just link back to it.

[hana-no-seiiki]

BROKEN EXPECTATIONS, NEW ASPIRATIONS (I/III)

⟣┄─ ˑ 𝐈. ✧ yandere! batfam + dc heroes x yandere! alien! reader (ft. ocs of mine, and other dc characters)

synopsis: you weren’t as innocent and benevolent as they thought you were, but that just makes things all the more exciting

tw/cw: dddne, reader is yan (platonic for this part, romantic for future parts(diff people). yandere themes, general violence, torture, sadist reader, incest (one-sided/not reader n it’s a brief mention so it’s not a main part of the story oh god-). reader is half based on jingliu/jingyuan from honkai star rail + laezel from bg3 worldbuilding. and there’s also a bit of malenia/miquella inspirations. reader has a background. reader’s alieness is explored/talked about. op! reader. wish fulfillment.

in short this was an oc insert of mine that i reconfigured for you guys to read. not your thing? scroll past thenks.

[next]

YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THE KINDEST, MOST LOVING PERSON THE BAT-FAMILY EVER KNEW. You were so gracious with your benevolence that each and every vigilante took it upon themselves to take care of you at all moments lest you fall into unsafe situations or the hands of people who would ruthlessly take advantage of you.

Eventually, they forgot the fact that you were the sibling of the notoriously violent DAYBREAK, a vigilante that could be easily called a villain or terrorist instead if it weren’t for his close affiliation and friendship with the old Teen Titans crew when he was younger. He helped once in a while, but only if it meant he had free rein to cause carnage.

“This is useless, they won’t fess up.” Jason grunted as he fumbled around with his weapons, all broken after the battle just moments prior. Aliens and their abilities always made him feel so small in the grand scheme of things, and especially when they completely obliterated his entire arsenal.

Tim groaned, his back ached from the amount of times he was flung away towards whatever wall or ally the enemy wanted him to go to. He was used to being man-handled and even enjoyed that once in a while, but not in that way. “Aren’t they one of your kind? Cant you like… I don’t know…”

Your brother huffed, a pout on his pretty features. Quite similar to yours. Yet, he doesn’t spare the rest a glance. His eyes were trained solely on a restraining spell he managed to conjure as a last ditch attempt to stop the fight before it got . . . irreversible. Usually he’d just disintegrate whatever or whoever even looked at him wrong but even this titan-like intruder was proving to be a pain in the ass. “I can’t believe you, doesn’t mean we’re the same kind or whatever that means that—“

“He’ll be lucky to be even considered as one of us, filthy —“ The massive form spoke. Its metal like body clanging as it struggled in the spell’s area of effect. A soldier from your home planet, not as well trained as your brother — but he was brimming with aetherial ardor. A sort of magic source your people used.

“Okay, that’s it.” [Brother’s Name] groaned, summoning the last piece of his strength to open up a terminal. “Hey mooncake, need ya to do something for me.”

“No, we aren’t letting [Y/N] anywhere near this one. They could get seriously hurt. We were barely even able to—“ Dick held him by the shoulder, only to get burned by your brother’s leaking ardorial energy.

“Relax. Besides I’m not in your team. I don’t have to follow orders from you.”

“Daybr—“ Rachel, her cape almost completely burnt and tattered opened her mouth to admonish him.

But the sound of your sweet voice (more like hoarse, and half awake) silenced them all, “What do you need help with this time?”

“[L/N] don’t listen, go back to sleep, beloved.” Damian moved in from behind, learning from Dick’s mistake and instead using his blade to warn [Brother’s Name].

But if anything, that made the man more excited to annoy the “demonspawn”.

“Oh, mooncake you can’t believe who I stumbled upon today! Smile for the camera why don’t you?”

[Brother’s Name] flipped the terminal to show your face.

“You’re . . . General [Y/—“

And then flipped it back, showing his injured body. “He hurt me real bad. Look.”

Your face does not move nor your voice waver,

“Come back to the base.”

“No.” Black Canary, Dinah, slammed her hands on the table. She couldn’t believe this. It was already bad that they allowed you to be involved in their line of work, now they were letting you come face to face with a being that almost wiped an entire team of experience fighters? What were they thinking?

“That . . . thing is dangerous. We cannot allow this to continue!” Arthur concurred. He saw the state of your brother. A civilian like you had no business with something so dangerous.

“Unfortunately I have to say no to your refusal as well.” You calmly responded, “This situation is under the jurisdiction of the Fleet. It is only right that Daybreak and I deal with it.”

“Father you can’t possibly allow them.” Damian gripped your shoulder as he pleaded with Bruce. He had known you the longest next to Tim. You were barely able to hold your own as a normal student. Not that he was looking down on you, but if you couldn’t even fight for yourself in conversation, how could he let you be around that monster?

Bruce closed his eyes in deep contemplation. He studied your kind comprehensively. He did so for every vigilante and villain alike (Contingencies were his specialty) From how your magic system worked, to how society and customs were like. A lot of his knowledge came from Clark, who had also done his fair share of investigative work into your background.

He of all people in this line of work knew how dangerous you and [Brother’s Name] can be. He had done his calculations based off of what Daybreak could do. But curiosity drove him further.

“Fine.”

“Father!”

“But the whole league will be watching you, alongside the Young Justice and Teen Titans.”

“Sheesh, overkill much?” Daybreak, now plain [Brother’s Name] in a bunch of casts, piped up.

You nodded, quite honestly just aching to get out from this stuffy room already. “That is fine.”

Before you left, you head swiveled to take one last look at your sibling, building up whatever emotions you needed to see the job through, “Get some rest, brother.”

“Are you kidding? I gotta watch this.” Your brother laughed in earnest, almost-too-wholesome-for-him manner. You managed to understand why as his eyes scanned the people in the room.

He wanted to see them react to your true nature.

Your form finally disappeared from his sight as his eyes finally settled on another image of you glued atop a folder. “What are those?” He pouts to gesture at the objects, too injured to move his limbs.

“Files on [Y/N] and the being.” Bruce answered, opening up the screens for the cameras to the interrogation room.

[Brother’s Name] knows you’d give him a sermon for using his powers while he was already banged up but he had no choice. His arms were too broken to open up the folder after all. “You guys work quick.” He commented as the papers levitated and flipped through itself.

His eyes scanned the typewritten document swiftly, smile growing by the moment, “Pffft — kind hearted soul? Who wrote this?”

“It was compiled by me, but our sources vary from vigilante to civilians.” Clark mumbled. As one of the only other aliens, and people who could feel aetherial arbor. He felt your presence, your anger leaking earlier. It was heavy, as if the world was suddenly placed upon his shoulders. Yet he felt no fear for his own safety, only yours.

The gigantic door before you slid open revealing the enemy the vigilantes struggled to subdue earlier.

The soldier stood upright, sensing your presence. The rumors were true it would seem. Many wouldn’t be able to spot it, a testament to whatever you did to conceal your prowess, but they immediately recognized the magnitude of your ardor practically oozing around you.

He was expecting your anger. He knew of your protective nature towards your brother.

“My apologies.” But you didn’t. Instead you began nursing their injuries, repairing their armor, and even initiating casual conversation. “It must have been a long journey. I can’t help but resent whoever sent you here.”

“Your Excellency! I came of my own volition.”

“Oh? But judging from your armor you must be one of the knights.”

“Yes, 512th Squadron of the Imperial Army.”

“Of course, my eldest brother’s . . . “ Your fought to keep your hands from clenching. A gentle smile on your features remained unshaken even by the sudden revelation.

“Y-yes, your Excellency. It took many jumps for me to get here on my own.”

“Alone? What did you wish to come here for?”

“I-I wished to meet you but those Earthlings wouldn’t let me.”

“Mm. And so you fought them. As is right for one of our kind.” You brought out a handkerchief and wiped down your hands after finishing the task at hand. Then you took a seat in front of them.

“You understand! Of course.”

“Actually I came here to bid you to return. The Emperor misses you dearly and wishes to see you.”

“Do you know why he does?”

“N-no?”

You looked down. Voice soft, relaxed shoulders, a solemn tone, and a tremble to add on top. “My brother. He wishes to have a child with me. To use my powers in the form of a future heir to the throne.”

“I am not quite ready to have a child yet.” Nor were you interested with being a babymaker for that tyrant. But that wasn’t an appropriate excuse in the grand scheme of things.

“I understand! Your Excellency is quite young and even then, you have saved countless of lives. You deserve only to do as wish and nothing less.” The soldier slammed the floor in front of it. “Besides, his Majesty had already taken so many concubines I’m sure an heir wouldn’t be needed anytime soon.”

You nodded. A moment or two of silence for your mind to recollect everything that has been said before you execute what you came here for in the first place. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “How incompetent must the new Imperial General be at the moment?”

“Pardon?”

“Information is the most valuable asset to any sort of battle. As a general I kept a tight leash on it. Lest it spilled and caused unnecessary ruckus.” My knights were drilled, put through fire and blood, wiped clean before they were thrown back into hell again. And most importantly they were taught to sew their mouth shut or die. You, you just spilled everything I needed to know the moment I showed that I cared.”

“Your Excellency, I —“

“I was only going to punish you for trespassing. A measly act of destroying your Aetherial Helix.” “But in all honesty, I might be doing that brother Emperor of mine a favor by going . . . further.”

“N-no, you wouldn’t, you’re—!” The soldier was about to defend you even in its dying moments. But as it truly recounted all that has been told about you from its peers and seniors, it realizes one truly fatal fact.

You were never known for benevolence.

“Please! I did this all for you! I only wanted you back as my General!”

“Let this be a lesson.”

“No, please ! I- I - I beg of you—“

You looked up to the ceiling, beyond it — the stars and the infinite darkness you once called your home.

“And so I’ll continue to wield your blade, until I cut the stars from sky. I will protect you even from the gods I serve.”

You chant. The blood on your hands once again becoming too visible and distracting.

“Thank you for your service, soldier.” You deeply bow your head to the disintegrating corpse beneath you. Allowing the fallen's drained life essence to cover your forehead. [Brother Name] smiles. To others it may seem to have been a sign of respect — but to your kind, you were simply absorbing the spoils of battle. Taking in the dead and disgraced's remaining imprint on this world.

“My deepest apologies for the mess and time it took. The matter has been dealt with.” You returned. The blood, having dripped down your face, had dried and turned dark.

“I hope this has not soured your view on me.”

“Not at all . . .” Tim was the first to speak at your return. His fingers unconsciously replaying the footage of your . . . execution. Millions of questions already shot across his head as he was eager to probe you on them one way or another.

If anything it only made their obsession with you worse.

“Let me be your sinner, brother. This oath I shall never forsake.”

[antimonyandthyme]

2k, paul/carlos

(written after the c2 / paul vid, and this post came out with the brilliant @formulahs suggesting an auction LMAO)

He goes without the expectation of buying anything. He looks forward to a good time, even with all the cameras around. The shoes his stylist wants him to go in are fanciful, shiny monstrosities, and he nearly insists for the sneakers to stay on. Then he remembers that he’s technically there for Ferrari, and dutifully swaps them out.

Technically. Paul can go for other reasons too. Charles is lovely, if a little vacant around him. Carlos is. Carlos is, he’s—

It’s early days and Paul isn’t one for poetry, and yet here he is. He hopes to god he isn’t being obvious. Not to the staff when he spots Carlos and lights up like a schoolboy with a crush. Not to Charles, when he holds on to Carlos for a handshake that’s a little longer than necessary. Definitely not obvious to whoever watches these videos, when he mouths all of the answers to Carlos.

Can’t deny having a favourite. He can turn his nose up all he wants at the reputation that follows any young actor these days, but he can’t deny his appreciation for nice things. There are no trophies in his world—yet, just good food, good drink, good people. Beautiful people. For the third time since they rolled cameras, Paul is caught staring. Carlos always looks slightly lost, staring back, like he’s trying to figure Paul out, before he ducks his head and curls up. Large hands clasped in his lap. Maybe a little shy. Maybe a little pleased.

“He’s a little expensive,” Charles says, “but you should be able to afford him.”

Paul attempts to tamper his face into something palatable. Ungracious of Charles to lay out his desires so plainly. And then in the same breath insinuate that his ability to pay might not stack up. Somewhere past Paul’s eyeline, Carlos is returning his mic to the staff with a relieved smile. Unpacking his spine into something looser, now that the cameras are off. He tips his head at Paul, eyes inquisitive, as if guessing that they were discussing him.

Paul has to look away, guilty.

“I didn’t plan on buying,” he says. It’s the truth. Mostly. In his defense, it wasn’t like Ferrari were being subtle about shoving them in a room together, especially after they made this tradition known. It’s like asking someone not to think of elephants. On command, a safari blooms open in Paul’s mind.

Charles shrugs. “We’ll have another event later. Someone else probably will.”

The flippant way Charles speaks about it grates against Paul’s skin. He can’t tell if Charles is trying to rile him up. The thought of Carlos having to hang off a faceless person’s arm makes distaste churn so violently in his belly that it manifests into an ache.

“Carlos wouldn’t mind, if it’s you.”

“How would you know,” Paul grits out. The mental fidget spinner he has for Charles keeps going around in circles, flickering from Empty to Dickhead to Helpful, maybe?

“Ah, he’s used to it no? People looking at him like that.” Charles’s voice dips low, like he’s sharing a secret. Paul’s an actor for fuck’s sake. He knows when someone’s selling him something, a mediocre contract, a shitty line. Still, he can’t help leaning in closer, puts his ear right next to Charles’s mouth.

Further away, Carlos’s mouth twists down, his gaze shutters. Just a minute, baby, Paul wants to tell him. Just—give me a minute.

“He looks back, when it’s you,” Charles says, and Paul’s done convincing himself otherwise.

--

They tell him, in one of the most bewildering conversations Paul’s ever had, that Carlos will be delivered in the evening, at whatever time suits Paul best. Delivered, like he’s some kind of package. What the fuck, sings one part of his brain. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what have you just done. The other part, the part that’s mostly primitive and hedonistic, somehow takes charge and sends him off on multiple errands. He gets his hair trimmed, just a little at the sides. He buys some wine. He changes into the sneakers. He considers getting another tattoo, before he snaps himself out of it.

Poetry and tattoos. Paul’s lost his mind.

The time in between gives him room to vacillate between wanting to feed the open maw within him and growing shamefully aware about the shape of his yearning. He hadn’t realized he had enough space within his ribcage to stuff another man entire. There are so many other ways he could have gone about this. But he doesn’t have Carlos’s number. He can’t text. Even if he could, Paul wouldn’t know what to say.

Tick tock, tick tock. Paul rearranges furniture, door dashes some flowers, after spending half an hour reading up on flower language, interspersed with vapid scrolling of his socials. Tick tock.

By the time Carlos arrives, he’s in a bit of a wreck. People who move in Carlos’s world would certainly be familiar with Ferrari’s clauses, and would know how to act. The muted greeting Carlos gives doesn’t help either. He’s dressed up but down, in a plain, almost translucent shirt that leaves little to imagination. He toes off his shoes with an unconscious gracefulness, and comes to stand in front of Paul. He’s waxed, which Paul knows, just from being so close to him this afternoon, had to have happened in that space where Paul was questioning all his life choices. He looks wonderful, except for the fact that he looks so visibly uncomfortable.

“Do you,” Paul starts. Swallowing around the dry lump in his throat. “Do you want something to drink?”

Carlos fidgets. “If you’d like,” he says.

That’s, ow.

They’d assured him, again and again, that Carlos always had the final say, but his teeth are buried in his lower lip, hard enough to blanch, and his toes dig into the carpet like a lifeline. It’s not like Paul’s hung out with Carlos more than a handful of times, but it’s hard to ever picture him in such distress. Carlos is—larger, than what he’d ever seen on screen. You have to witness him in person, to understand.

Faced with this shrunken version of Carlos, Paul can’t bring himself to continue.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks. “I really am. I assumed you’d want—I’m sorry.”

Carlos flinches, jerks his head up. “Wait.”

“It’s alright,” Paul says. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. You could just leave. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Wait,” Carlos says, more urgently. “I don’t want to—” His voice grows small. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Of course not,” Paul nearly yelps. “But you’re. You’re…”

Carlos’s cheeks are very pink. His toes tap an erratic beat on the floor. His hands are clasped in front of him, almost in supplication.

“You’re nervous!”

“Yes!” Carlos blurts out, before looking very mortified. “I’m. Ah, fuck. Paul, I’m never. Never like this.”

Tension bleeds out of him. Something so relieved escapes out of Paul’s mouth in an embarrassing giggle. “Carlos. You should have just said.”

“I don’t know why…” Carlos trails off, scrubbing at the back of his neck vigorously. “With you, I’m like this. I don’t know. I want.” His toes tap some more. “I want to.”

“Want to?” Paul says, coming closer, watching Carlos sway in eagerly.

“Make it worth it,” Carlos mutters. “What you paid.”

Paul groans. He wants to shake Carlos. Then decides, hey, he actually can shake Carlos. Gentle hands around his shoulders, shaking him like a beloved ragdoll. “Oh my god. You can’t be serious.”

“It’s a lot of money,” Carlos protests, but the corners of his mouth are turned up now.

“Shut up, you’re ridiculous. Do you think I would have even paid that if, if I. Oh my god, Carlos. You have to know, right?”

“Know what,” Carlos says, enjoying being a little shit now that they’re joking.

“Can’t take my eyes off you, when you’re in the room,” Paul says. “I thought I was being obvious.”

“You were,” Carlos says brightly. “I thought I was obvious right back.”

“Okay, so. So why are you—?”

Carlos’s face twists. “This season has been. Ah.” He shakes his head reluctantly. “You don’t have to listen to this.”

“Go on,” Paul says. “Come on, tell me. Twelve hours of your time, remember?”

“Been hard to live up to expectations, this year,” Carlos says. “I didn’t want that with you.”

“You are so.” Stupid. Hot. Stupidly hot. “I’m going to shake you some more,” Paul says. “I cannot believe you.”

“That’s fine,” Carlos says. He goes along with the shaking, in a way that shows exactly how much of his body he’s putting into Paul’s hands. A neck as thick as that and he’s somehow limp under Paul’s touch. That’s, well. That’s a lot. “Then maybe, maybe. You could kiss me?”

Yes, yes. Yesssssssss, sings both parts of Paul’s brain. Yes.

Carlos is still now, expectant. A long, lean line of muscle, rooted to the ground, that Paul can trace hungrily with his eyes. He could pull at Carlos with all his strength and Carlos would not move, if he did not want to. But when Paul nudges a finger under his jaw, Carlos goes, looks up, right at him. Leans in.

--

He’s a greedy little thing, isn’t he. Swallows Paul with ease, every which way. He makes insane noises, deep, and guttural when Paul fucks him hard, high, and breathless when Paul thumbs at his nipples. Carlos clutches at Paul like it’d physically hurt to let go. Everything he’s meant to do, he does and is wonderful at it. And somehow, he’d managed to assume he wouldn’t live up.

“Unbelievable,” Paul says to the ceiling, some time after he’d come so viciously it felt like he’d been wrung out like a dish towel. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Are you still mad at me,” Carlos says, amused.

“Yes.”

“Ay, don’t be,” Carlos says, softly. “I really was nervous.”

Paul turns on his side, hand supporting his head as he gazes at Carlos. Crazy intimate. Terrible, the way he’s setting himself up for the worst time. He can’t bring himself to care.

“You’re allowed to stay the night?”

“Twelve hours,” Carlos says. “You can ask me to do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything,” Carlos confirms. “Sleep at the foot of the bed, if you want.”

Why would he even say such a—Paul is going to shake him again. If he can unpretzel himself from all that easy comfort following an earth-shattering orgasm. He nudges at Carlos’s hip instead. It’s the closest body part he can find.

“I kick in my sleep,” Paul says seriously, delighting in the way that makes Carlos giggle. He pats the scant space next to him. “I’d rather you be right here.”

“I’ll be right here,” Carlos says, then clears his throat. He probably was just parroting Paul, didn’t mean for it to sound so much like a promise.

But Paul… is also a greedy little thing, isn’t he? So greedy he paid for it, and so greedy he wants more now that he’s had a taste.

“And after?” Paul says. Will you be…?

“After,” Carlos says, “after Las Vegas is Qatar. Then Abu Dhabi.”

“Fine,” Paul says. As let downs go, this is pretty devastating, but he’ll live. It’s not like he had expected—never mind.

Carlos shifts. His jaw unlocks, then clicks back. “You get discounts, after, did you know that? Very good discounts.”

“Oh,” Paul says, a little wobbly. “Do I?”

“Yes. And after Abu Dhabi, it’s. It’s free.”

“Ah.” His chest is squeezing tighter than a fist. The space in his ribcage! Expanding and contracting to accommodate whatever Carlos sees fit. He lets himself imagine pressing up close to Carlos in a quiet apartment, pulling out every sound in Carlos's vocabulary with time, unlimited, on his hands. Buying flowers he knows for sure Carlos likes.

“I guess I need to stick around."

“Guess so,” Carlos says, smiles. “Make it worth your while.”

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

When They Know They're In Love ~ Frostheim Edition

I will be doing the other houses and will link them here once they're posted. I hope you like this and if you did, please feel free to send in requests for what you'd like to see.

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Characters: Jin Kamurai, Thoma Ishibashi, Lucas Errant, Kaito Fuji x gn! Reader

Frostheim | Vagastrom | Jabberwock | Sinostra | Hotarubi | Obscuary | Mortkranken

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How do the characters know they're in love and what will they do when they realise?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jin is not exactly the most in touch with his emotions. He knows he feels something around you. Does he think it’s some weird side effect of your ability or him using his stigma after so long? Absolutely.

It will take him a long time to figure out that what he’s feeling is actually love but when he does, it’s when you’ve finally snapped at his treatment of you.

You’re tired of being treated like a servant and you’re letting him have a piece of your mind.

And suddenly, his chest is tightening, and he’s got butterflies, and he realises just how beautiful you are.  How did he never notice this before?

It might take him a while longer to accept his feelings and pursue you properly but when he does, expect to be swept off your feet by the effort he puts in to making you feel just as strongly about him.

Thoma is a lot more observant than Jin. He’ll recognise his feelings almost straight away when he sees how hard you’re working both to get to know the ghouls and to break your curse.

He’s found a kindred spirit in your hard-working attitude. But he won’t act on those feelings for a while.

He’s busy with his own work and, if he’s being honest, he doesn’t think he could handle getting into a relationship with you, only for your curse to take you from him a year later.

I think it would take a life-or-death situation for him to confess. Something where he nearly looses you before the year is up and he realises he has to tell you how he feels before you’re gone.

Whether a relationship blooms from that is up to the two of you but Thoma’s a practical guy. Whatever you’re decision, he’ll make it work somehow.

Luca is an interesting case. I feel like he’s aware of his feelings about certain things but not others. Love is one of those things he’s not super aware of.

He knows how he feels about close family like his brother. But you? He just doesn’t register his feelings towards you as romantic at first.

He finally puts it together when he sees you asleep in the library, a book open in front of you with information relating to his brother’s situation.

The rush of affection he feels towards you in that moment is so strong, even Luca can’t misunderstand it as anything else. Now he just has to confess.

He won’t drag it out and will likely pull you aside next time he sees you. He’ll be perfectly gentlemanly and explain his feelings, as well as letting you know that any decision you make, he will accept.

Kaito is certainly in touch with his emotions, but I don’t think he would realise the depth of his feelings for a long time.

If you’re female presenting, he would just assume what he’s feeling for you is his usual affection towards women. If you’re male presenting, he’ll just assume you’re a really great friend.

He realises he’s in love with you when he gets a message from another person and realises the sinking feeling in his stomach isn’t a normal reaction.

Honestly, I feel like Kaito will be a bit freaked out by his feelings to start with. He’s not used to really caring about people and he’s not entirely sure where to start.

Once he does come to terms with his feelings and realises he wants to be with you as more than just a friend, he’ll do his best to up his game so you fall for him the same way he fell for you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[uriekukistan]

megumi and mahoraga: understanding megumi’s strategy & dismantling the jokes

i think one of the biggest misconceptions about megumi’s character is that he is a trigger happy loose cannon that is willing to throw his life away at any inconvenience. so for this post, i want to help in understanding the strategy in which megumi employs what he thinks for most of the story is his “ace in the hole,” his secret weapon that will ensure his victory, even if it comes with his death.

mostly, i’m just sick of the mahoraga jokes, and megumi being the butt of 85% of the jokes in this fandom in general, as well as the bum allegations, etc. megumi is not as weak or as reckless as a lot of people think, and i will have more to say about this soon🤞

in order to do this, i’ll be unpacking each time he allegedly attempted to summon mahoraga, including some false allegations as well.

against potential sukuna in ch1

at this point, megumi is unsure of a lot of things. he’s unsure of if he’s talking to yuuji or sukuna. he’s unsure of how powerful sukuna, the legendary king of curses, truly is. he’s unsure of how yuuji or sukuna will react to him attempting to kill them. he’s already seen how strong yuuji is without sukuna, so it’s reasonable (and correct) to assume that with sukuna’s power, he could easily take out megumi and all of his shikigami easily.

another thing to consider is that megumi is seriously injured, and likely concussed, which would impact his ability to maintain and control his shikigami. already, he’s been unable to summon nue, and his divine dogs have disappeared.

in a case where he is up against a special grade(+) curse with unknown power just in a single finger, and he is injured and unable to maintain his other shikigami, he pulls out his secret weapon because he doesn’t want to be responsible for sukuna going rampant in sendai, so even if he dies, he’ll have trapped sukuna in this ritual that would likely kill him too.

against sukuna (again) in ch9

sukuna is now 3x as strong as he was the first time megumi encountered him, and megumi has attempted to fight him both with his fists and his shikigami. he knows that his severely overpowered. he was already pushed to his limit by saving kugisaki as well. he’s lost two of his shikigami in one day, and nue is at its limit, he notes.

he knows there’s not much more he can do, but he still needs to stop sukuna because, again, he needs to take responsibility for both itadori eating the finger and saving his life. the only thing he has left is mahoraga. again, it makes perfect sense. he has no remaining options, but he knows what must be done.

the next three are played up in the anime, but in the manga, it’s more vague. i won’t spend much time on them because it’s purely speculative.

(alleged) against todo in ch17

this never happened, and while it was played up like he was going to in the anime, i just don’t get why. he would never have summoned mahoraga against todo. megumi is a cautious fighter and does only what’s necessary, saving and building his energy as necessary (this is a different post). he also is trying to avoid conflict as much as possible in this scene, so there’s no reason why he would summon mahoraga here.

(alleged) against hanami in ch46 & ch47

something else that i think was more clear in the anime, but vague in the manga.

in ch46, his hands are near the position, and he is thinking about how much stronger hanami is compared to inumaki, arguably the strongest (or at least rated highest) out of the three sorcerers there (megumi, inumaki, and kamo). it’s possible that he was about to summon mahoraga, but again, he realizes at this point that he’s severely overpowered. kamo has gone down. he thinks that inumaki is finished too. it’s just him and this curse he can’t hold a candle too. he figures if he’s going to die anyway, that he might as well try to take hanami out with him.

this thought process is developed more in ch47. he says he needs to use “everything he’s got” because “it’s inexcusable that he be the first to go down.” he’s concerned about his burden and responsibility, and doesn’t want to be the reason why more people get hurt. so since hanami’s curse will already kill him if he uses more jujutsu, he refuses to be the only one who goes down.

against the finger-bearer in ch58

again, it’s a similar situation to others that he’s been in. he’s cornered, severely injured, overpowered, and his shikigami are not holding up as a match against the finger bearer. he even thinks ahead of summoning mahoraga that he might die.

plus, it’s more serious than “if i’m going to die, i’m taking you with me.” it’s tsumiki who’s at stake, as well as kugisaki and itadori, who are nearby. he needs this curse to be exorcized. ultimately, he chooses to use his domain expansion for the first time instead.

against toji in ch113

he only briefly considers it (or so it seems). but one thing the anime does a horrible job of showing is that megumi is nearly burnt out of cursed energy, mainly from holding his domain in dagon’s domain (understandable, considering that’s such an impressive feat. he held it for a long time too). he’s also injured, so much so that he’s saying he’ll need to go to shoko if he can get away, which brings me into The Mahoraga Summoning.

against haruta in ch117

every time i see people talk about this, it’s always “why did he pull out mahoraga against this nobody?” i mean, it’s exactly the reasons i just mentioned. after fighting toji, he’s nearly completely burnt out of energy, and on top of that, he’s injured. he’s actually on his way to see shoko before he gets stabbed by haruta. he’s barely able to walk.

megumi is out of options. he can hardly stand for the summoning ritual. how is he supposed to fight off anyone, nobody or not? his one weapon he has left is mahoraga. he knows sukuna is out and about. he knows he can’t let haruta walk away from this. it’s the same thought process. “i’m going to die, so i’m going to take you with me.”

against sukuna in ch212

this seems like the most self-explanatory, in my opinion. seriously, what is he supposed to do against 15 fingers worth of sukuna? i love megumi, and i will argue up and down that he’s very strong, and severely underestimated by the fandom, but against 15 fingers of sukuna? maki and yuuji, who are both around the same level as megumi in terms of strength, couldn’t take down 15 finger sukuna TOGETHER. megumi alone doesn’t stand a chance.

again, it comes back to his sense of responsibility. he was the one who saved yuuji, and allowed this to happen. it’s why he says “it’s our fault,” to yuuji. so he takes responsibility for taking sukuna down.

ultimately, megumi’s use of mahoraga is incredibly strategic. he only pulls it out in situations where he absolutely has no other options. it’s also an extension of his sense of responsibility, in many cases, particularly regarding sukuna. he was the one who saved yuuji, so he has to be the one to take down sukuna. finally, he doesn’t want to lose. he says that before the kyoto goodwill event, but i think he meant it as an overall statement. if he dies, he will be taking his opponent with him.

megumi is not trigger happy. he’s not a loose cannon. he’s not reckless with his life. he makes calculated moves that align with his goals and motivations.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

xvii  ⊹ ࣪ ˖  Party Anthem

Series mlist 

Tags — mentions of alcohol, possibly offensive humour (yk this by now), don’t get angry at me pls. 

Words — 1.2k 

Night had long set in over the horizon, and the frat was oddly hot for such a cool November evening. It was muggy and reeking of cheap alcohol, something everyone had grown desensitized to after ingesting some of it themselves. 

One minute you were sprawled out over a couch, mindlessly chattering away with your group of friends. The next moment, you spotted Nobara in the heaps of people and decided it would be a great idea to dance. Your body swayed side to side, an orange head of hair bobbing around at your side. She was clearly wasted by now, an arm wrapped around your shoulders as she tried and failed to sing along to whatever 2000’s pop song played through the speakers. You could feel people around you stumbling, bumping into you so often it was almost rhythmic. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to feel uncomfortable. This wasn’t exactly your scene, but anything that was vibrant enough to distract you was better than… whatever you were doing before. 

He was here. You could feel it in your bones, the way your heartstrings tugged like they were being toyed with by a puppeteer. With every reminder of him came another shot, the bitter alcohol pouring down your throat. Your head had begun to feel fuzzy long ago, tv static seeming to be on repeat in the depths of your mind. It wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough to erase him. And somehow, the alcohol only heightened your ability to dwell. 

You just wanted to know why. Was that so much to ask? To wonder why he was so normal, and then so… soft, and then suddenly he was nothing at all? Nothing but curses and anger and awkwardness? You knew you hadn’t done anything, but it was the only reason you could conjure up. Your heavy heart was apparent in the way your joints were stiff as Nobara moved you to the beat of the music, the way your eyes looked far away as you stared into space. Even the drunken girl could see that much. 

“M’gonna get a drink. Bye,” she said, words slurred and curt. She didn’t give you a chance to respond, you were left reaching out to the ghost of her, alone in a room full of dirtbags. 

It was simply reflex to retreat to the outskirts, the calmer wall in the corner of the room. Just a moment to breathe, to observe, to remember that you were you and not just some drunk girl escaping Megumi. Not everything was about him. 

Or, apparently, it was. Of course he was over here. Of fucking course. He was everywhere you went, lurking and hovering just a few steps ahead at all times. You didn’t want to see him, not now. Not when your mouth had been loosened by clear vodka and your anger was ever so overran by your sadness. It barely took a sideways glance at him to have your shoulders stiffen, a look of disdain taking over your features as you stared straight ahead. 

He caught your eye. He knew you were there, he always would. It seemed that his body knew before his mind, his pulse quickening and hands growing jittery. He silently watched you for a few moments, contemplating whether you’d hit him or not if he simply grabbed you and forced you to listen. It was obvious you didn’t want to talk to him, and had it been anyone else he would’ve left it alone. But it was you. You were different; you were always different. 

“[name].” 

No response. He moved closer, nearly caging you in, though involuntarily. Truth be told, he wasn’t exactly sober either. Itadori had a knack for influencing him. Maybe that’s why he was being so forward, shameless as he almost begged for your attention. 

“I’m talking to you,” he said. 

“I know.” 

He sighed, shoulders slumping. He expected nothing less from you, a quick mouth and subtle attitude. “[name].” Wow, he really liked the way your name sounded on his lips. “Please, can’t you just—just give me the time of day?” 

“Like you did? You ignored me for two weeks, Fushiguro,” you spat his name like it pierced your tongue to utter. This wasn’t a good time. Your emotions were amped up, every vibration from the suffocating music in the background shooting through you and only irritating you further. 

“I know, that’s why I’m asking you–“ 

“What did I do? Huh? Tell me what I did,” you cut him off, a crease forming between your brows. Then he saw it. Hidden beneath layers of anger and disdain was hurt, desperation to know why he’d shut you out. That made the guilt far worse. It felt like there was a pit in his chest, or rather a black hole, leaving him hollow inside. It was a dull ache of so much love being there, but not enough courage. 

Without thinking, his shaky hand reached out to you. It landed on your shoulder, clumsy and uncoordinated. “Nothing. You didn’t… you could never do anything to make me ignore you.” 

“So why?” you asked, voice breaking. You hated the way you subconsciously leaned into his touch, his face only a few short inches away from you. 

“Because I’m a coward,” he whispered. You don’t know when or how you moved in closer, you just know that you both did and it felt so utterly right that you couldn’t pull away. His pupils were dilated, love or alcohol? Possibly both. 

Was this actually happening? You could smell the faint scent of his cologne radiating from him, his breath smelling of alcohol as it mingled with yours. You could see every detail of his face from here. He looked gentle and desperate and something swirled in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before, but you wanted to. You wanted to see all of him, to understand every inch and mannerism and every other bit. You didn’t want Noritoshi. It had never been him. Always your Megumi. 

“Megumi,” you mumbled, the word sounding much sweeter on your lips than his surname had. 

“That’s better,” he breathed, and you swore you felt the touch of his lips on your own. 

But then came Todo, big and beefy and drunk and knocking into everyone. He seemed to be looking specifically for Megumi, grabbing his shoulder all too enthusiastically for the moment. 

“Hey, Fushiguro! You seen my brother?” he asked. You were left standing by the wall, struck by what had almost just happened. You could barely form any sort of coherent thought, mentally doing laps around the room. Megumi didn’t look much better, eyes wide and throat bobbing as he tried to compose himself. He was always composed, he wasn’t going to let that stop now. 

“No,” he grumbled, one word answers being the only thing he was conscious enough to say. Todo, looking defeated, left to continue his search. By the time you peeled your eyes away from the retreating figure of the boy, Megumi was gone. Disappeared into the crowd, nothing but a fish in a sea of people. 

He was fucked. 

Taglist !¡ — 

@1l-ynn @meowymeowbreow @missunrise @kiss-my-asscheeks @good-mourning0 @starrysho @gumims @beaniesayshi @mrowwww @luvvmae @megumislovedoll @azharyy @starsryi @tibibibi123 @idkidk32 @dazaisfavgf @tlissablr @vi0let-writes @walllflowerrrsss @sh0ot1ngst4r @blubearxy @tvnamayo @san-it-is-i-guess @harryzcherry @withlovesai @vivienne-jo

Aha… don’t attack me for this one Megumi went and hid in the washroom fs next chap will be a continued ver of this chap!! Like they’ll still be at the party it’s almost over… omg… I write every chap in one sitting btw so like don’t get mad if they’re shitty

[turningbloodypages]

could you do cullens (or just emmett) x reader with aspd?

Of course! 🫶 apologies for inaccuracies, i did as much research as i could

“You know i’m good on my own… you know, it’s more the being unknown.”

The Cullens/ASPD!reader

Edward

Though he doesn’t fully understand, he can relate to the general disregard for others

He let’s you stay close to him whenever you’re around other people, and tries his best to help regulate

You can’t really lie to him because he can read your mind, which is frustrating at times but it helps to break the habit

Your seemingly nonexistent worry about your safety tends to stress him out, but he does his best to keep you out of trouble

Distracts you by reading to you or taking you out into the woods with him

Got all your classes changed so he could keep you calm while at school

Deescalates any fights you may or may not get into

Overall just fusses over you all the time, trying to make sure you’re alright and everything

Alice

She knew what she was getting into, and she loves you all the same

Loves to sing to you to keep you regulated

Get’s upset when you lie to her or do something to hurt her feelings, but she tries not to show it too much

Any time you get into any complications in public she simply drags you to an empty room or bathroom

Which is frustrating at first but it usually works in terms of keeping you from getting hurt

Tries to work through your impulses by taking you to do the most adrenaline boosting things she can think of

I.E cliff jumping, running as fast as possible through the woods, taking you hunting with her

She loves having fun, and would rather work through things in an exciting way than try and pretend that you don’t get impulsive

Talks you out of trouble whenever you do end up getting yourself into it

She is quite the charmer

Rosalie

Like Edward, she can relate

Spends most of her time with you locked away in her room, doing something mundane like reading or watching a movie

Her approach is to just keep you from getting triggered

When you do inevitably get impulsive, she hypes you up and lets you take your frustration out

Once took you out into the woods to shoot nail guns out of trees

Let you tire yourself out and then takes you home to take care of you

Gives you a warm bath and sings you lullubies

Emmett

Would definitely take you to a rage room

Tries to make you laugh whenever you get upset

This works most of the time

Distracts you with the most ridiculous games

You’ll be about to get into a fight and he’ll go “if you can beat me to that tree i’ll take you to get ice cream”

Other honorable mentions are attempting to beat him arm wrestling (he puts up a good fight but lets you win once you tire yourself out)

Playing baseball with him and his brothers when you’ve had a hard day

Tree climbing contests

Trying to catch squirrels (surprisingly difficult for all parties involved)

Will also resort to bear hugs if necessary

You can’t punch anybody if you’re in the muddle of having being squeezed half to death

Jasper

His ability to influence emotions is a huge help

He’s able to keep you calm in most situations

When he can’t, he’s good at talking you through impulses

He understands what it feels like to have a lack of control, and he teaches you coping methods and ways to stay calm

Finds new hobbies for you guys to try together to distract from stress

Can tell when you’re lying to him, but usually doesn’t say anything

He lets you tell the truth and come to him when you’re ready

Lots of physical touch therapy

Always holding your hand whenever you go anywhere, making sure to keep you focused on him and not the crowds

Carlisle

His medical background makes it easy for him to help you

He figures out what triggers you and stays prepared for any situation

Lots of talk therapy and discussing your feelings

He’s very civil when it comes to any altercation you may get into

Never gets angry with you, but makes sure to talk to you about what happened and discuss how you can cope better next time

He understands that it wont always be easy, and he’s there to support you on hard or stressful days

Never forces you to do anything your uncomfortable with

Likes to take you out to quiet places (library, hiking trails, etc) to try and help you cope better with being around others

But will gladly have a night in with you if you request

Esme

Doesn’t understand at first why you wouldn’t enjoy being around others

But she does her research and learns how to help

Likes cooking and baking and having you help her

Will plan the most elaborate movie/cuddle nights

Loves reading to you, singing, anything you want

Reminds you that the way you feel is okay and that she’s always there to talk

Never forces you to open up, but it the best at helping when you do

She gives wonderful advice

Always makes sure that the rest of her family knows how to support you in case she’s not there

Be prepared for the most kisses

Vampire!Bella

Tries her best to get it

She knows what it feels like to not really want to be around other people, but thats the extent of her understanding

Very protective of you, even when you don’t need it

Stands up for you whenever you get into disagreements/fights, makes sure nobody gets hurt

She was never too good at talking about her feelings, so she never pushes you to do the same

Always there if you do reach out though

Would get frustrated over lying/attempted manipulation, but reminds herself that it’s not exactly your fault

Would do petty crime with you

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hi, hope you're alright. I came up with a story idea: the reader is married to Gasly's/Daniel's close friend but their marriage is hanging by a thread. The driver invites her to a few races so she can change the environment, they spend some time together and unexpectedly become lovers. And maybe later her husband is trying to fix their marriage but she and the driver can't stop thinking about each other

His Best Man || DR3

A/N: I took some creative liberties with the plot but I think it does this request justice 💕 ps: never condone cheating, it's horrible and this is purely fictional

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, alcohol, cheating, smut WC: 7.6k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Daniel’s Reaction

Dinner with James was a quiet affair, though it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Why would your anniversary be any different when his indifference was the only constant at this point?

You watched as he smiled at his phone, something you hadn’t been able to elicit from him in months, before he locked the device and placed it facedown on the table. The sigh that wanted to exhale from your flared nostrils barely remained silent as you focused on shifting the food around your plate, your appetite gone like the connection to your husband. 

“Daniel sent us some passes to the race in Melbourne next month. I thought we could go, make a little holiday out of it?” 

There was no excitement in your tone, it was more a question borne out of politeness because he would have seen the paddock passes sitting on the kitchen side if he ever looked away from his phone. The blasted device vibrated again and his fork clattered on his plate in his rush to read the incoming message. 

“Well?” you asked as his thumbs flew across his screen. 

“Can’t. Work project is going to keep me busy until the deadline,” he answered without looking up. “Take one of your friends, have a girls trip.”

Friends…those people you never saw anymore because James hadn’t liked them, though he never outright said it, those friends who had warned you that you were marrying a narcissist. 

“It’s our anniversary,” you reminded him. “You know, falls on the same day each year.”

“Mhmm, yeah,” he nodded, clearly not listening. “Sounds good.”

You propped your elbow onto the glass tabletop and dropped your chin onto your palm as a familiar burn of resentment simmered in your soul. “The mailman gave me a pearl necklace.”

“That’s nice. Put it on my credit card.” He reached into his back pocket and tossed his wallet across the table, narrowly missing the glass of rosé. 

You opened it and saw the polaroid from your wedding day no longer sat in the clear card slot but was stuffed behind his drivers licence. You shouldn’t have felt hurt after months of being ignored but the pain still surprised you, almost as much as the condom that you found with his cash. He hadn’t bought a box of condoms in at least three years, not since the wedding when you started trying for a baby - something that was probably best that it didn't happen.

“He must eat a lot of pineapples because it tasted delicious,” you murmured as you took his cash and the platinum credit card too.

James nodded and pushed his empty plate away. “Yeah, tasted good, thanks. Need to finish this project.” He rose from the table with his phone and started to make his way down the hall to his office. “Don’t wait up.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You had a trip to plan. 

You weren’t going to have a girls weekend but you were going to Melbourne. He may have been James’ friend first, but no one had the ability to turn a bad day (or year) around like Daniel could. 

When you arrived in Perth you hadn’t expected Danny to be the one personally waiting at the airport. It was impossible to miss him with the amount of people that surrounded him, asking for pictures and autographs before he spotted you stepping out of customs. 

You didn’t need to read lips to see him apologising to everyone as he made his way towards you, holding up a large welcome sign for ‘Roo’. You rolled your eyes at the nickname he had given you after one drunken night that ended with you tangled in a hammock, your head poking out of the material like a joey in a kangaroo pouch. You were only grateful he hadn’t nicknamed you Joey since the name had stuck over the years.

Your greeting turned to a peal of laughter as he dropped the sign and swept you into a hug that lifted your feet off the ground to spin you around. 

“I’ve missed you, you beaut!” Danny’s smile was contagious and even when your feet were securely back on the ground he still kept his arms around you. “A shame James can’t come, but we can totally make his jealous as fuck for ditching us. One week, you, me, road trip to Melbourne.”

Day One - Perth to Kalgoorlie “I hope you know where we are going.”

Daniel laughed and just winked from the driver's seat of his Ford Ranger. It had been three hours of driving on the highway and you had not passed one town in the dusty landscape. 

“It’s not far, just down the road a little more,” Danny said for the third time. “We still have half a tank of gas and a crate of Vitamin B, we’ll be fine if we need to camp.”

You quirked an eyebrow up as you looked in the backseat and saw the green box of Victoria Bitter beer strapped with a seatbelt.

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to camp anywhere,” you scoffed, tucking your knee up as the song changed to another country song from his endless playlist. “Spiders, snakes, dingoes, and your snoring. I think not.”

Daniel laughed and indicated to pull off the road despite there not being another soul within what felt like hundreds of kilometres. 

“I’m sorry I said you snore, please don’t leave me here.”

His laugh only intensified as he turned the engine off and turned to face you. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Roo.”

“Then why have you stopped?” You tested the window but it had powered off with the engine. “It’s a freaking sauna in here.”

“Because you haven’t been yourself all day and there’s no cell reception out here so there’s nothing to distract you.” He took the useless device from your hand and tossed it in the glove compartment. “What’s going on with you and James?”

“Nothing,” you muttered as his brown eyes narrowed. “Seriously, there’s nothing going on with him. We hardly speak anymore and he sleeps in his office when he’s not out of town on another ‘business trip’. It’s just…nothing.”

Daniel’s brows pinched together in confusion as he sucked a lungful of air through his teeth. “But…what the hell happened?”

“I don’t know,” you exclaimed as you threw your hands in the air, just as clueless. “What do you want me to say? That he’s having an affair, or that one day he just stopped caring, or both?”

You turned away as it wasn’t a bead of sweat that rolled down your cheek when you sighed in defeat. Unable to withstand the heat without the air conditioner, you tugged the door handle and checked the dirt for any unwanted animals before jumping down from the running boards. 

Daniel was already getting out his side and circling the bullbars before you could wipe the tears away but the sob you had tried to suppress clawed its way out when he pulled you against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured softly as he rubbed your back and let your tears soak into his shirt. “He can be a bit of a cunt, but I never thought he could do that to you.”

“He did and it’s done,” you admitted with a raspy voice that was still strained from the emotion choking each word. “I moved my stuff out last week, not that he even noticed. I thought I could have a break to get away from it all and deal with a divorce when I get back.”

“That fucking idiot,” Daniel said as he pulled his shirt up to wipe your tears away. “He just lost the best thing in the world and he doesn’t even know it.”

Day Two - Kalgoorlie to Caiguna It was another long day of driving but after the broken sleep spent tossing and turning you weren’t much of a companion. You had eventually drifted off to sleep to the country music that Daniel loved so much and dreamt of crawling through fields of watermelons but the paddock soon turned to mud and you sank under the suffocating weight with it filling your lungs. 

“Hey, it’s alright, you’re alright,” Danny soothed as you startled awake, his quick reflexes throwing his arm out to catch you from hitting the window. You could still feel the filthy fluid on your skin and shivered as you changed the song over and took a shuddering breath. “Bad dream?”

You rolled your shoulders and twisted your stiff neck, groaning at the crick that had come from using the seatbelt as a pillow. “Just weird.”

His eyes darted away from the endless road ahead and saw you trying to massage your neck before he brushed your hand aside. There certainly were perks to his strength training because his fingers were a godsend as they erased the knots that had formed.

“Hmmm, thank you,” you sighed deeply and his lips tipped up at the sound.

“Anytime. Hope you got the rest you needed, there’s a stop ahead and these guys know how to throw down.”

You narrowed your eyes at the horizon that was blurred by heatwaves and tried to see what lay beyond but gave up after a few seconds. “Throw down what?”

“Huh?”

“What are they throwing down?”

“Throw down,” he said slowly as if it would somehow make you understand but you were still confused. “Party, drink, dance. Throw down.”

“Oh, throw down, why didn’t you just say that?”

He laughed at your sarcasm and squeezed your knee. “You could definitely do with a drink or two and loosen up. Then I can get my old Roo back.”

“As long as I’m not expected to sleep in a hammock again.”

The motel was a little rough and run down but it had four walls and the bathroom was clean enough to last one night. Daniel had barely given you enough time to get changed into fresh clothes before he was knocking on your door ready to escort you next door to the bar. Coincidentally, the bar was also the restaurant, service station and grocery store all rolled into one.

You and Danny were by far the youngest people in the place but it didn’t stop the warm welcome from everyone. If any of the patrons knew who he was they hid it well because they treated him just like any other stranger passing through.

“Where ya from?”

“Where ya headed?”

“Watch out for ol’ Deloris, she’ll try take a bite out of ya.”

The questions came in quick succession and you looked around the room trying to figure out which of the ladies was Deloris only to find the name on a plaque beneath a huge crocodile head suspended from the rafters.

“Fuck me,” you gasped as you took a step back, bumping into Danny as he laughed along with the bartender.

“Gets ‘em every time,” he chuckled as he placed two large bottles of beer onto the well worn bartop. “Looks like ya sheila could use something a little stronger.”

Daniel’s large hands landed on your shoulders and started to massage the tense muscles. “There’s no crocs ‘round here, isn’t enough water,” he whispered to calm your nerves. “Deloris was probably a pet.”

“Who in their right mind would keep that as a pet?”

“Probably someone not in their right mind.” His warm laugh tickled your ear before he turned you back to the bartender to grab your drink. “Cheers.”

Daniel found a small table in the surprisingly busy restaurant space and it appeared as if most of the locals were keeping the economy running in the place. It was strange to think that the faded walls decorated with old photographs of the glory days gone by felt more homely than the one you had built with James.

You could easily see yourself placing a coin on the pool table to save your place in the queue or ordering the fresh market fish off the menu without questioning how it was fresh so far from the sea. You could see yourself walking in to see the same faces at the end of a long week and the barman would listen to your complaints as he poured your usual without needing to be asked.

You took a generous gulp of beer that Daniel swore was ‘the good stuff’ and hummed at the hoppy flavour as it quenched the thirst that hadn’t stopped since you stepped foot in the country. It was no wonder why they liked their beers so much, they needed whatever they could to cool their bodies down.

“I like this place,” you said with a smile that Danny returned with pride.

“Thought you might, and tomorrow’ll be even better.”

“Where are we going tomorrow?”

Daniel shook his head and occupied his lips with the bottle so he could keep you in the dark a little longer. You didn’t mind this type of surprise, knowing he wanted to make you smile and was planning everything could to make that happen on the road trip.

The doldrum tune that was playing from the corner of the bar was interrupted as a coin was slotted into the jukebox and Josh Turner’s Your Man came on the machine. Couples around the bar and restaurant left their belongings and made their way to the dance floor. Where you came from no one would do that, and if they did their belongings wouldn’t be there when they returned.

Beneath the table you could feel Daniel’s foot tapping in time to the beat and his fingers drummed on the long neck he lifted to his lips. He caught the longing in your eyes as you watched a grey haired man holding his wife, slowly swaying together like you had imagined you would with James in 40 years.

“Come on, Roo,” he invited as he pushed his chair back and held out his hand. His palm was cold and damp from the beer bottle but it was refreshing on your skin with the heat that still lingered with the setting sun. Leading you to the edge of the dance floor he pulled you close and curled an arm around your waist as he started to sing along. “I've been thinking 'bout this all day long, never felt a feeling quite this strong, I can't believe how much it turns me on, just to be your man. I know you know the words, don’t be shy.”

It was impossible to feel embarrassed with him, even if you butchered the song he would still smile like he was listening to his favourite artist live. So, you placed your hand in his and the other rested on his shoulder as you started to sway and sing along.

“There's no hurry, don't you worry, we can take our time. Come a little closer, let's go over, what I had in mind.”

Daniel let go of you and your head fell back with a laugh as he spun you away and pulled you back. You could only giggle as you returned out of step and ended with your back to his chest instead of face to face but he adapted quickly and held your waist instead.

“Baby lock the door and turn the lights down low,” his voice was deep and rich in your ear, intimate and full of promise that hit you unexpectedly. “And put some music on that's soft and slow. Baby we ain't got no place to go, I hope you understand.”

You were glad you weren’t facing him as his words affected you in a way you couldn’t remember feeling for over a year. The very air seemed to thicken in your lungs as you felt every inch of his body fitting against yours. You could feel the veins on his hands as you laced your fingers with his and guided them down to your hips.

This was the first time the lines had blurred throughout the years of friendship and you allowed yourself to feel wanted, if only for a song.

Day Three - Caiguna to Yalata The pounding in your head turned out to be banging on your door and you somehow found the strength to answer it. Bright sunlight flooded in through the crack and you groaned as you covered your eyes.

“Good morning sunshine,” Daniel greeted brightly as he stepped inside. “It’s 7am on another stunning day here in Straya.” 

You playfully shoved Danny and he rolled with it to splay across your bed, the blankets still tucked in from collapsing atop them last night. 

“7am is too early,” you complained as you climbed into the small space he left on the twin sized bed, curling onto your side and throwing your arm over your face to block out the light. “Let me sleep.”

“You can sleep in the car.” His fingers danced teasingly over your ribs and you jutted your elbow back into his hard abs before he could properly tickle you. “Ouch, you’re not very nice in the morning.”

“This isn’t morning, this is still night,” you grumbled as his arm draped over your waist instead.

“The sun is up.”

“Tell that to the people of Norway. It can be sunny at midnight there.”

You could feel him silently laughing at you as it shook the bed. “But we aren’t in Norway.”

“Shh,” you murmured as you snuggled closer to him. “Let me go back to sleep.”

“Fine,” he conceded, making some adjustments to the pillow before shoving his arm under your head, “but just because I’m comfortable now.”

The hangover was gone by the time you woke naturally and you felt refreshed as you stretched lazily. Rolling over in Daniel’s arms you found his eyes closed and his lips parted slightly with soft snores. You raised your head a little to see the alarm clock that was probably considered vintage in the 80’s and saw it was well past check out time. Luckily it didn't appear that the No Vacancy sign was ever used, so there was no rush to leave.

The small movement was enough to wake him and your stomach clenched at the smile that brightened your day more than the blistering sun outside when his honey brown eyes opened. 

“I can’t believe this,” you tutted as you let him pull you closer against his chest. “I was ready to go at 7 and you just went back to sleep…so lazy.”

“How rude of me,” he chuckled. “I’m sure I can find a way to make it up to you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Woah,” you whispered breathlessly as the truck bounced to a stop on the hard sand of the tidal line. “It’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it just,” Daniel grinned as he opened his door and looked across at you. “Coming in?”

You bit your lip as your eyes feasted on the picturesque scene. Big barrel waves crashing out in the bay and white sand welcoming bare feet on the shore, it was a sight pretty enough to make angels cry. Hopping out, you rounded the four wheel drive ute and sat on the metal bar running across the front, distracted by the breathtaking view. “What about sharks?”

Daniel’s door shut and you turned to the sound in time to see him pulling his singlet over his head and tossing it through the backseat window before unbuckling his belt and shoving his jeans off too. It was impossible not to stare at the hard planes of his chest or the definition of his abs, and then the thick thighs that were barely covered by his boxers. 

“The chances of a shark attack are less than…” His words trailed off as he looked up and caught you blatantly staring, his teeth sparkling as a big smile grew on his face. “The view is spectacular, am I right or am I right?”

“You or the beach?”

“Spectacular is pretty high in the standards of compliments,” he said as he started to flex his arms, “but if you think I’m spectacular then I would accept that.”

You closed your eyes from the harsh sunlight and tipped your head back to feel the rays on your cheeks as you laughed. “You’ve never had to worry about your ego, have you?”

He sent you a playful pout as he walked towards you, his thongs flicking up golden sand behind him with each step. “It would take a hit if you didn’t come swim with me.”

You hadn’t realised quite how many types of heat there was until that moment. There was the heat of the bonnet from hours of driving beneath you, the heat of the sun in the sky above and the heat of his hands that landed on your knees. It was the heat of his hands that seeped into your blood and spread throughout your body, increasing to boiling point as they slowly ran up your thighs.

Your knees unconsciously parted for him and he stepped into the space so you were eye to eye and his tongue rolled across his bottom lip. “There’s nets out past the reef, you’ll be safe with me.”

You took a sharp intake of air as his fingers caught the hem of your shirt and his knuckles grazed your skin. “Well?” he asked quietly. “Trust me?”

You swallowed deeply as you nodded and he rewarded you with another of those smiles you had come to love before he lifted your shirt up and left it on the hood of the truck so he could grab you around the waist and haul you over his shoulder.

“Daniel!” you yelped as the world was suddenly upside down and he kicked his thongs off before jogging towards the water. “Don’t you dare dunk me.”

You expected the next sudden shift when the water reached his knees but as quick as he tossed you up off his shoulder he caught you again with a booming laugh. His arms were bound around your thighs and your hands planted on his shoulders as you looked down at his amused face. 

“I wouldn’t dare,” he promised as he eased his grip, your body sliding down his until you were once more eye to eye. “I just want to make you smile.”

Day Four - Yalata to Port Lincoln  As much as you had found yourself enjoying the historical rich motels in the outback, you were just as happy to find the accommodation in Port Lincoln was a five star resort on the waterfront. The sun was just starting to set when you arrived at the hotel and checked into the two bedroom suite with a gorgeous view of the harbour. 

“I never knew driving could be so exhausting,” you said as you dropped into the swing chair on the large balcony. 

“Don’t worry, tomorrow’s a rest day so you can recover from all that driving you didn’t even do,” Daniel pointed out with a smirk, taking the spot beside you and taking over the leg exercise of swinging it back and forth. “We can do whatever you want, just can’t miss the boat to Adelaide tomorrow night.”

It was nice spending so much time alone with Daniel on the road, comfortable conversations rolling like the tires on the highway, but a change of pace would be welcomed. “What is there to do?”

“Hmm,” he frowned and stood up. “Let me go see.”

Daniel disappeared out of the room and returned a few minutes later with a stack of brochures that he had taken from the tourist stands in reception and you met him on the couch inside where the pleasant offshore wind couldn’t whip them away. Together you flicked through them, separating them into three piles of yes, no and maybe. 

“Sure you don’t wanna cage dive?” he teased as you threw that particular brochure across the room. “You could get up close and personal with a Great White. Once in a lifetime opportunity right there.”

You snorted and shook your head. “Once in a lifetime because it would kill me. Not happening.”

“Here, that’s a yes for you.” 

You took the advert for a farm park where you could hand feed the animals and added it to the yes pile. “Maybe next year we can go to your farm…unless James gets you in the divorce.” Your lips turned down at the idea and you realised you had hardly thought of your husband, but now that you had he had disturbed your peace even though he was thousands of miles away.

Daniel reached over the coffee table to the stationary set, grabbing a hotel engraved pen before pulling his shoe off. “It’s just like Toy Story,” he said as he waved the pen in your face. “Put your name on me first.”

You managed a small laugh as you took the pen and clicked the nib out. “Should tattoo it so it doesn’t wash off.”

Daniel squirmed on the couch as the pen tickled his foot and you grabbed his ankle so he couldn’t move too much but he started to giggle uncontrollably as the nib ran over his instep. “How long does it take to write Roo?”

You laughed and kept going before he wretched his foot free and crossed his leg over his knee to see your full first and last name on it - maiden name, not married.

“For legal purposes,” you said as you clicked the pen nib away and tossed it on the table.

“Fair enough.” He grinned at the writing everytime he looked at his crossed leg and draped his arm over the back of the cushion as you returned to the seat. “You can come by the farm anytime, don’t have to wait for next year.”

“Except for shearing season,” you smirked as you remembered that mistake where you were roped into helping the jackaroos round the sheep up and shave them. “I have no interest in losing all feeling in my arms again.”

“Earned that beer though,” he said with a chuckle as he started to massage your neck. “I was so proud, you weren’t afraid to get stuck in and help. I kinda thought you were a bit of a princess ‘til then.”

Your nose crinkled at the endearment James used to call you. “Well I’m glad I got rid of that image. But, out of curiosity, what do you think I am now?”

The smile could only be described as devilish as his hand spread across your nape and guided you closer to him. His eyes held you captivated and his lips parted with his answer but it was silenced by the sound of ringtone breaking the tension and like a puppet whose strings were cut he fell back into his seat. The emotion in his eyes was erased with a blink and you reached blindly for your phone, answering the call without needing to see who it was from.

“Hey, isn’t it like midnight?” you asked as you lifted the device to your ear but there was no answer at the other end. “Hello? James?”

“Fuck, yeah, just like that baby. God, Laura, you’re so perfect.” The phone slipped from your grasp as you heard the muted but unmistakable sound of James’ voice.

Daniel frowned as he picked the phone up from your lap and lifted it to his ear, shock registering before it transformed into anger and he hung up the phone without breaking the screen with the force of it. He discarded the phone and pulled you into his lap in the same instance but you didn’t hear what he said as you buried your face in his neck and grappled onto him for dear life.

Day Five - Port Lincoln to Adelaide You didn’t feel like doing anything other than staying in bed and sleeping the day away but Daniel wouldn’t let you waste another minute of your time because of James. In a way you could understand the logic and as a big ‘fuck you’ to him you were going to get your shit together and go and have fun.

Daniel worked even harder to get a smile or a laugh out of you and kept his camera on hand to capture the moments he succeeded. The animal farm did make you feel a little better and holding a joey as you bottle fed it was finally enough to break through the invasive cloud that had hung over you. 

“Roo and Roo Two,” Danny commented as he moved around taking a million shots of you.

“Need a hand?” a passing couple offered after watching Daniel try and extend his arm enough to get in the shot too.

“That’d be a dream,” Daniel nodded and he handed his camera over before sitting down beside you and curling his arm around your waist. The joey was almost asleep from drinking all of the milk and Daniel grinned at you as he stroked its neck. “Looks like you when you sleep.”

You grinned back, forgetting about the camera. “Cute, right?”

“Yup, that’s, uh, exactly what I was thinking.” He cleared his throat and scratched his neck awkwardly before laughing when your elbow connected with his ribs. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. You’re a cutie-tootie when you sleep…it’s another story when you’re awake.”

His laugh was loud enough to wake the joey when you nudged him again with an offended look. “What? You’re beautiful when you’re awake.”

“That’s totally what you meant,” you said sarcastically before rolling your eyes. “Just look at the camera and smile like a normal person.”

He tipped his head to yours and smiled brightly for the camera, but he couldn’t resist whispering, “Bold of you to assume I know how to be normal.”

Day Six - Adelaide to Portland It took a moment to recollect the events from the night before and it wasn’t because of the many wine tastings you had gone to around the Port Lincoln area. Perhaps that had a little bit to do with it, but mostly it was because you had fallen asleep in the truck to the gentle rocking motion of the ferry but now you were tucked into an unfamiliar bed. 

“Danny?” you called out as you tossed the covers back and found you were still in yesterday's clothes. You could hear some sounds outside of the room but Daniel hadn't answered your call so you picked up the coat rack from the corner and quickly opened the door.

“Jesus Christ.” Daniel jumped back as you waved the long pole his way. “What the fuck?”

You sagged in the doorway and dropped the makeshift weapon to clutch your chest. “You gave me a fright.”

“I gave you a fright?” he asked incredulously. “You gave me a fucking heart attack. What were you going to do with this?” He swiped the coat rack off the floor and couldn’t stop himself from laughing at it. “Please don’t give me a concussion before the race.”

“But any other time is good?” you quipped as your lips tipped up now that your heart rate was returning to normal. “How did I get to bed?”

He flexed his arms with a cocky grin. “I tried to wake you up but you were dead to the world. And now that sleeping beauty is awake, how about we go out for breakfast? There’s meant to be a huge market that sells a bit of everything that we could check out after.”

You held a finger up as you looked down at your clothes and heard your stomach rumble, answering the question of whether to shower or not first. “Just give me one minute to change.”

Daniel had obviously been awake for a while being an early bird so he was ready and waiting at the door when you reappeared, his hand held out and waiting for yours. The lines between friendship and more were getting blurrier each day but it no longer felt wrong as you laced your fingers with his and stepped outside.

“Are you limping?” you asked with a frown as he kept his weight on one side the entire walk to the market.

“No, just got pins and needles in my foot.”

An hour later he was still favouring his right foot so you steered him back towards the hotel so he didn’t make it worse before you got to Melbourne. “You should probably see a doctor.”

Daniel dropped onto the couch and stole the remote to choose a movie, patting the space beside him so he could kiss your temple after joining him. “You worry too much, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re quiet,” Daniel commented as he turned off the tv. “What’s got you thinking so loud?”

You chewed your bottom lip as he called you out. He was too observant, or you were too easy to read. “It’s our last night together.”

“You’re still going to stay with me for the weekend, right?” He shifted in his seat to face you and stroked your cheek with the back of his hand as he waited for an answer.

You nodded and he relaxed a little only to freeze as you spoke, “But you’ll be busy, we don’t have time to hang out.”

“I’ll always make time for you,” he promised as he pulled you into his lap. “This week with you has been…spectacular.”

“Spectacular is pretty high in the standards of compliments,” you reminded him, much to his amusement.

His smile softened as his fingers trailed along your jaw and down your neck to trace your collarbone. “Which is why it’s reserved for very, very good things.” 

You were almost certain he could hear your heart racing like thunderous hoof beats in a quiet desert. The blood was pumping around your body carrying the oxygen you needed to replace but couldn’t seem to draw the air into your lungs as he leaned forward.

“You were his best man,” you whispered with the last of your breath as you felt the heat of his lips so close to yours.

“But I’ve always been the best man for you.”

The first kiss was softer than the wind, tentative and testing as you learned how your body responded to the caress before hunger yearned for something deeper. A deep moan rumbled from Daniel’s chest as your tongue rolled across his lips that parted for you and his arms encircled you to hold you tight, as if he were clinging to the spell so it couldn’t be broken.

“Please, Danny,” you sighed longingly as his hands slipped under the summer dress you wore and his thumbs teased you with painfully slow circles on your thighs. “You have never been a patient man, don’t start now.”

His quiet laugh heated the skin of your neck that he kissed with such tenderness you wanted to cry. It had been so long since you had been touched in such a way that you couldn’t wait any longer.

“Please,” you begged as you rolled your hips over his cock that was straining against his shorts. You moaned as the hard length brushed over your panties and a reciprocal sound came from Daniel before he stood up abruptly. 

“Fuck, I wanted to take my time with you,” he murmured against your lips as he blindly walked to the closest bedroom. 

“Later,” you promised. “Right now I need you to get me out of this goddamn dress and fuck me.”

Day Seven - Portland to Melbourne “Oh, fuck off,” you growled as your phone rang on the bedside drawers. You rolled back into Daniel’s embrace and wrapped your arms around his waist as he saw at the voicemail notification before it started to ring again. 

“He’s just going to keep calling,” Daniel said with a sigh that turned to a yawn after the late night spent getting to know each other's bodies intimately. “You’ll have to talk to him at some point.”

“I know, I just want to savour this moment before the drama starts. I can’t remember the last time I woke up like this, happy and content. I’m not ready for that to end.”

“What makes you think I’ll let this end?” he teased as he rolled you onto your back and trailed wet kisses down your neck. “I might just write my name on your foot too and call you mine.”

The warmth of the blankets disappeared as Daniel made his way down your body, kissing the entire length of you before settling between your legs as the phone rang again.

“Answer it,” Daniel ordered as his fingertips delicately traced the stretch marks across your hips, committing every inch of your body to his memory. “Or he won’t go away.”

You tried to find any hint of resentment in his face as you reached for the phone but there was only an air of smugness as he made himself comfortable, resting his head on your thigh.

“I think we have been robbed,” James said without even a hello as you answered the call on speakerphone. “Everything in the guest room is gone.”

A huff of amusement bubbled at the image of him standing in the empty room, his face crumpled in confusion as he scratched his head. “It’s at my apartment.”

“What apartment? What are you on about?”

“The apartment I rented before I moved out two weeks ago. The one I will be living in when I get back.” Daniel’s fingers traced the waistband of your panties and your breath hitched as they slipped beneath the lace.

“Bullshit,” he laughed but there was a hint of uncertainty in the sound. “Just come home and talk about this before you make any rash decisions. I know I have been busy with work lately-"

“More like busy with Laura.” The air that hissed between your teeth could have been mistaken for anger but it was entirely from the devilish look in Daniel’s eyes as he bit the soft skin along your inner thigh.

“Laura’s my assistant.”

The laugh turned to a gasp as Daniel pushed the lace aside and ran his tongue through your folds, his eyes rolling up to watch your reaction, the phone falling from your hand as you reached for his hair.  You tugged the strands as his tongue circled your clit and you couldn’t stop the moan from escaping as you arched your back at the growing pleasure.

“Fuck, yeah, just like that baby,” you begged shamelessly and he chuckled as he felt your walls flutter around the fingers he curled into your cunt. “God, Daniel, you’re so perfect.”

A round of expletives filled the air as James heard a real orgasm take over your body but they fell silent as he realised why the words seemed so familiar. You weren’t just accusing him of fucking Laura, you knew. And you were using his best friend to show him.

“Some friend you are, sack of shit,” James growled as you whimpered with the aftershocks of the orgasm.

“Some husband you were,” Daniel snickered as he tore your panties off and climbed up your body to kiss you, sharing the taste of your pleasure on his tongue before he picked up the phone. “You lost the best thing you had, mate. I won’t make the same mistake you did.”

Daniel ended the call stared down at you in wonder as a slow smile started to spread across his face. “I don’t think he will be calling back.”

It may have been the high of the orgasm, or it could have been the knowledge that after a year of enduring the decaying marriage, but you were free - either way, you were giddy with joy as you wrapped your legs around Daniel’s hips and pulled him closer. 

“I can’t believe you did that,” you giggled as you hooked your fingers into his boxers and pushed them over his hips. 

“He had to know who you belong to now, he had his chance.” His voice was pure decadence in your ear as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds before stretching you wide as he thrust forward and stilled. He gave you a moment to adjust to his size and brushed a gentle kiss across your lips before captivating you with his golden brown eyes. “Still want to know what I think you are?”

Your fingers ran softly down his back, feeling each bump on his spine right down to the twin dimples at the base. “Tell me,” you whispered as your hands grasped the firm muscles of his ass, your nails digging in to spur him into moving.

“Mine.”

Melbourne Grand Prix - Race Day The screams of Daniel’s home crowd were intoxicating and you couldn’t help cupping your hands around your mouth and joining in as he parked front and centre of the pitlane having won his home race. Climbing out of the car, stood atop the halo and threw his fists in the air before tearing his helmet off and holding it up too, tapping his finger on the large number 3.

You couldn’t help but notice how he still favoured his right foot after he jumped off the car and rushed towards his team, grappling them into strong hugs that probably crushed the air out of their lungs - not that they cared as they ran on adrenaline after the race.

“Wow, Daniel, what a race! You were absolutely flying!” the interviewer praised after he took his microphone and joined her in front of the Sky Sports camera. “Looking at some of those high speed corners, it looked like you were fighting to keep the race line.”

“I couldn’t brake hard if I tried,” he laughed and combed his sweaty hair back through his fingers. “Got a fresh tattoo and it’s still a little tender.”

“On your foot?” Naomi asked as she pointed to his Red Bull boot. 

“Yeah, glad it wasn’t on my throttle one or I don’t think I’d be up here,” he joked.

“I’m certain I am asking on behalf of everyone when I say, can we see it?” A cheer from the crowd confirmed her statement and your fingers gripped the metal barrier as goosebumps broke over your skin.

“No way,” you mumbled under your breath as you shook your head to get rid of the ridiculous thought you had.

“Sure, I’ll need this off for my shoey anyway,” he said as he pulled the boot off along with his sock. Turning around, he bent his knee so the sole of his foot could be seen and looked over his shoulder, grinning as he found you at the barrier with his team. 

“Aww, look at that, it’s adorable,” Naomi gushed as she saw the basic outline of a kangaroo on the sole of his foot. “What a way to pay homage to your nation!”

You bit your lip from smiling too hard when he started to laugh as she completely misunderstood what the picture meant. “Of course!” 

He excused himself quickly and hopped towards you, not wanting to get the days old tattoo dirty on the ground. 

“You’re actually insane,” you gasped as you slapped his chest playfully, still in disbelief that he had the word Roo tattooed on his foot beneath the picture. 

He leaned in closer so he could talk without fear of being overheard and you inhaled the purely masculine scent of him enveloping you as his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “It was your idea, and if you didn’t sleep so much you would have been awake to come and get it done with me.”

You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face as his hot hands came to rest on top of yours. “I must admit, I’m a little disappointed that it isn’t my full name.”

“Do you know how ticklish that was? I would have wet myself trying to get your whole name.”

You smirked at him, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening with his growing smile. “That sounds like a you problem.”

“Does anyone have a marker pen?” Daniel asked loudly and about half a dozen were thrust his way in an instant. 

“What are you doing?” you asked as you took a step back but the crowd was so tightly packed there was nowhere to go.

“Foot,” he said as he tapped the barrier, “up. It’s not a tattoo…yet.”

“You’re insane,” you laughed as you shook your head but instead he dropped to his knees and caught your ankle under the barrier.

“And you’re mine, I just need to…stop wriggling,” he complained as he pulled your shoe off and bit the cap off the marker before inking your sole. Twisting your foot about you saw his driver number covering the skin and bit your lip at the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he flipped the pen in his hand. “There, that’s better.”

“Is it?” you joked as you slipped your shoe back on. “I would have said spectacular.”

You were always surprised that his smile could somehow brighten, even when it seemed like it couldn’t possibly grow any more. But his smile grew as stepped closer and his hand reached for the back of your neck, pulling you to meet him as much as the barrier allowed.

“Spectacular?” he echoed before crushing his lips to yours until you were breathless and forgot where you were. “Yeah, that’s more like it.”

Daniel's Road Trip Playlist: Cruise - Florida Georgia Line Watermelon Crawl - Tracy Byrd Your Man - Josh Turner You Make It Easy - Jason Aldean Right Now the Best - Zach Bryan Over For You - Morgan Evans Live Like You Were Dying - Tim McGraw Die A Happy Man - Thomas Rhett Butterflies - Kacey Musgraves

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