#how to stay alive in 2020 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

davosmymaster · 2 years ago

Text

No Time To Die

TAGS AND WARNINGS - +18, Minors DNI, no explicit smut but sexual themes, whump, a lot of angst, blood, graphic wounds and procedures (?) probably not medically accurate, could be almost gore if you squint, hurt/comfort, two dorks in love, canon-typical violence, near-death experiences. Not based on the game, I don’t know anything about the game and I don’t want spoilers please.

PAIRINGS - Joel Miller x fem!reader

WORD COUNT - 9.6k.

SUMMARY - The main difficulty of being Joel’s closest friend is not falling in love with him, but you still do. Those feelings are buried until you join him on a mission to trade supplies with Bill and Frank. With your life now hanging by a thread, Joel is determined to get you to safety, but the clock is ticking faster than he can run.

A/N - I honestly don’t know what this is. I tried to look for angsty and whumpy fics and couldn’t find any that hit the spot just right; so I wrote my own. This story is set in some time between 2010 and 2020, or so. Bill and Frank are still very much alive. The only warning apart the amount of blood in this, it’s my own knowledge of the English language.

'Breathe'

��With a shiver, you try to comply with your own command. The action itself confuses you, and you don't know where exactly in your mind that thought came from; or why. All you know is that a moment ago you were nothing, absolutely nothing, not even human. You forgot your own existence in a still ocean made of black thick ink. The ink is now backtracking, though, but the remnants of it stay in your foggy mind, clouding it as your consciousness comes back in waves.

Waking up from a dream is easy, you just come back into yourself from a nice trip to your own imagination. Regaining consciousness, however, is a little more difficult. Instead of going somewhere, you go inwards into yourself. Your overworked mind, already tired and busy with keeping you alive, doesn't care much about bringing you to any other place so you can die peacefully. No. And the awakening is not as it should be either.

Coming back into yourself is your body crawling its way to the land of the living, with your flesh drenched in tears, blood and sweat; and nails digging firmly into the dirt. At least that's how it feels as you go back and forth between the two worlds, rocked violently by the waves threatening to drown you in its heavy never-ending dream.

You wake up tired, and cold. The first sense that returns is touch; and with it, a pulsing pain radiates from under the right side of your collarbone and all the way down to your chest and back. The —obvious— wound is warmer than the rest of your body. It's like you've grown a second heart right at the borders of the wound; it throbs relentlessly. The second is taste. Your mouth tastes like salt and melted butter; despite not having eaten either in at least three days. Around the dryness of your tongue you feel a sticky liquid swirling around in your mouth, plastered to your gums.

Whatever it is, you cough it out of your mouth. The old blackened blood splatters on the wooden planks below your mouth. Then, a second later, you feel a sprawled hand on your back; and the rest of your consciousness returns with it.

He calls your name. And he, whose presence you'd have recognized even blindfolded, even miles away from there, doesn't appear in your mind for a few seconds. But even half-conscious and at death's gates, his name leaves your mouth with a sigh of relief.

Joel.

"I'm here," he says, his palm now pressing a bit harder into your back, trying to comfort you somehow. If you had been fully aware, you'd have been embarrassed at the relieved groan that had escaped your lips while saying his name. "How are you feeling?"

His voice sounds less muffled now, but the pulsing pain intensifies the closer you are to the surface. A second groan escapes your mouth as the warmth under your collarbone becomes impossible to ignore.

"I know, I know" he says.

Your eyes flutter open. From your point of view there's not much to see except torn wallpaper, your blood stains, and the shadow of a window. You're on the floor, your cheek pressed against the dusty carpet, your body very still laying on them, and Joel rubbing your back.

The room is dark. His fingers enter your field of vision, they dip on the wet blood stains and turn around so Joel can see the sticky fluid staining his fingers. He takes a breath, a gasp, really.

"Goddamnit," he mutters under his breath. His hand stops rubbing your back, and as black stains crawl from the corners of your vision, trying to take you under the waves again, he talks to you:

"I need to turn you around..." he says with a gentle voice. It's like the icing on top of a sour and burnt cake; he's trying to sound caring, but that doesn't change the fact that it's going to hurt like a bitch. "You hear me?" he says, and his voice breaks for a second. Your ears ring, the next thing he says your brain doesn't process it, your vision has been clouded by darkness again...

A scream tores your throat as a shooting pain lights your body on fire. It feels like lightning going through your backbone. Suddenly, the waves are very far away and you're feeling way too conscious for your liking. Despite your pain, Joel is still as careful as he can as he lays you on the floor, now facing the ceiling instead.

The throbbing pain continues, and you blink to get rid of the tears that distort Joel's face. His hand wipes the tears from your face.

"I know," he says. He has a crease between his seemingly angry eyebrows that you had never seen before.

Both hands are roaming your ribs now, before you can even say anything. His warm hands give you shivers as he touches your naked skin. The pain is so unbearable that all you can do to mitigate it is hold your breath. If you could move, you'd be right now curled on the floor like a pretzel. You are not crying anymore, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't close.

"Can you breathe?" he asks then, when he doesn't find any cracks in your ribs by touch alone. You don't respond because you can't find your own voice, and he sounds desperate at this point. "You coughed blood, I need to know if any of your lungs are collapsing."

"It-it hurts..." you wheeze, your eyes tightly shut. For a split second, you wish you were back to being nothing. Being nothing sounds way better than having a gunshot wound in your chest. The bandages, tight over your bones and shoulder, don't mitigate the pain either. If anything, they worsen it. It feels like a tight sock over a painful pustule on your heel.

Worst part is you know all this pain is for nothing; you know you won't make it. If you go back to the QZ, you will be executed. If not, there's nobody to help you except Joel. But even if there were doctors or hospitals, you highly doubted you could find the necessary tools to extract a bullet and stitch the wound. That is, if you manage not to die of blood loss.

"Where?" Joel asks. Even beyond all this concern and well-hidden panic, he seems to cling to an ounce of hope. "Tell me where it hurts."

Your fingers gently trace your skin until they reach the area under your collarbone, and you sign to your back too. There's a bandage there, but nothing else, and that's when you notice you don't have a shirt on, just your blood-soaked bra.

"Is it bad?"

"Not that bad. The bullet went through," he said. That explains the pain on both sides of your body; you have a literal hole in your chest. "And it clotted soon enough to stop the bleeding, but you lost too much blood anyway... Anywhere else?"

Your whole body hurts and this abandoned house suddenly feels like penance, but you don't want to scare him further, so you shake your head no very slowly.

"Alright," he mumbles. Joel nods once, and it looks like he is reassuring himself. His eyes betray him, he looks like he is very far away from here, very buried under all the scenes playing on his mind; but despite his stillness, his lower lip quivers.

You can't move your right arm at all, but with the other hand, your fingers lightly touch his knuckles still resting on your stomach. He winces, and your fingers are wet with his blood too. He must have beaten to death whoever shot you, that you are certain about.

Your voice, little more than a weak breath, whispers:

"I-I want you to do it."

The crease between his eyebrows deepens. He seems confused rather than angry; the reaction you were hoping for. You take a breath to repeat your own words, but he squeezes your hand.

"Don't," he says.

"Joel..."

"Don't even think about it," he snarls. "You are perfectly fine, don't be dramatic."

You don't know what hurts more; his pain or yours, but his denial makes your eyes wet with tears again. This is already hard, but he is making it even harder. All he will achieve by trying to keep you alive is either prolonging his pain or getting himself killed. You both know this is no world for the injured and the sick, not out of the QZ, at least. And in most cases, not inside either.

All you ask of him is to not leave you for the infected to find. Is that too much to ask?

You want to insist, but you know he won't have it. Joel has lost so much already that the thought of losing what little left he has is not even going to cross his mind. Not until it's too late, at least. Also, you don't want your last moments with him to be a fight. You are tired of fighting, of swimming against the current. You just want to let go for once, give in to the external forces, close your eyes and peacefully breathe.

What's more, you should have already known that he wouldn't do you that favor. He is too selfish for that.

He pats your cheeks gently with his large hands, and your eyes, already rolling back into your skull, get focused on him again with a few blinks. You breathe slowly, trying to focus on him, on the world around you slowly twisting and turning.

"...that's it," he says, it doesn't sound like his first sentence, so you guess he's been talking to you before. When you look back at him, his breathing is shallow, and you know he is trying to take a hold of himself too, trying not to give in to panic. "Good girl, that's it. Keep your eyes on me."

Exhausted and hurting as you are, keeping your eyes open it's like asking you not to drop a weight that you cannot, in fact, handle; but you try nonetheless. It's your fault, really, for letting yourself go, for trying to give up on your fight earlier than you should. Joel is here trying to keep you alive, mending all your broken ends and stitching them together —he has always been good at that— while you're just trying to give up on him —you are really good at that too—.

Giving up on Joel has been one of the hardest things you've ever had to do; and now you're letting him go for the last time. Part of you is glad you don't have to keep watching how he chooses Theresa over and over again. You are even relieved that fate —or whatever there is out there— is forcing you out of the equation. After all, you would never have given up fully on him.

He refuses to kill you, what he doesn't know is that you've been dead for a long while now. Him being your executioner would be the kindest act he could have with you, the most intimate thing you'd ever share; your last moments. You want it to be him, you want him to free you from this torment.

He refuses, though; and it feels like a punch to the pit of your stomach. You shiver.

He gets up from his place on the floor, where you are lying just over the carpet. You follow him with your eyes and see a fire cracking up in a fucked-up chimney. He stokes the fire, throws some more wood on it and then comes back to you, covering you with his jacket, the very same jacket you had on before he turned you around. It's warm, his, and you have to stop yourself from sinking your nose into the collar.

"I had to take off your shirt to patch you up," he says, but he doesn't say sorry. Ever. So you guess it's his way of apologizing.

You simply nod, aware that you had wished for this very moment to happen many times before. You had dreamt of his rough hands over your naked flesh, caressing the sides of your body. You had dreamt of him watching you with those chocolate eyes as you took your shirt off, deep black pupils spreading over the brown as he watched the lace fall like a helpless witness.

But now the bra was covered in blood and he was watching you anywhere but the lace. He had a frightened and concerned look on his face, rather than aroused. A look that would have made you feel guilty and ashamed if it had happened in the other scenario. And instead of undressing you, he was covering your body with his jacket as if you were his child.

"What's wrong?" he is asking now, instead of whispering 'I want you' and it hurts all the same to know he's not ever going to say it, and that Tess now will have all those words for however long their lives are.

You guess they were made for each other. And it makes all the sense, really, no one like Joel would ever look at you twice. You were grateful that he even allowed you to be his friend.

"Nothing," you respond.

It's always 'nothing' when it comes to Joel. It's always that nothing whenever he notices you are under the weather. It's always nothing when you are hurt, when someone tries to rob you and they leave an angry black eye on your face. It's always nothing; and he never believes you.

"I don't make promises, you know that," he says, taking your left hand in his. "but you will be fine, I swear."

You don't know what to say, how to explain that you are not scared of death, that you are just scared of not seeing him again. But you can't, so you say nothing and just nod.

Does he want to hurt himself? Okay. You can't do much while lying on the floor anyway.

After that, both of you stay silent. Joel seems to be avoiding looking at you. His eyes are stuck in the fire creaking in the chimney, but they are too restless to be present and conscious of the yellow and orange haze.

Your palm lands on his thigh, your fingers gently brushing the denim. You want to comfort him somehow, but, at the same time, you are scared he will reject your touch and reassurance. That's all you can do for him: no words, no further touching, just a featherlight touch that indicates you are still present. There, with him.

"I thought we couldn't make a fire."

"Don't be dumb. The windows are all broken, it's winter and you are in shock. How else would you heat up?"

"Got it. You're not in a talking mood," you huff. "Alright."

Silence settles between both of you. However, one of his big, rough hands travels to where your fingertips are gently brushing his thigh. At the touch, even if you don't want to let go, your fingers begin to back off. He's not in a good mood, and you seem to be pushing his boundaries a little too much. Except that, instead of letting you go, he catches your hand in his and puts it back over his jean. This time, it's him who brushes his thumb over your knuckles.

For a minute, the only sound in the living room are both your breathing patterns, the flames licking the air and the wind rushing through the broken windows.

"I'm sorry..." you start. And immediately, his brown eyes are all over you again. Your voice sounds exhausted, more than you'd have liked. "...I fucked up the mission. I know-"

"You haven't fucked up anything," he interrupts. That's Joel, all stoic, swallowing his feelings and denying everything that it is not up to his standards. "Would you mind to just rest-"

Your eyes well with tears.

"Joel, for once... Just for once, don't lecture me, don't ignore what I'm trying to say just because you don't want to hear it," you tell him. Then, he thankfully presses his lips together in a pained grimace, but stays silent nonetheless. "I fucked up the mission getting injured. I know it isn't my fault, but it doesn't matter whose fault it is. If you wanna go on without me, I won't blame you."

His fingers are now squeezing yours, but you know he is not even conscious of that. He leans in a little, his cheeks now reddened in anger. He looks like he is about to spit on your face.

"I'm not leaving you anywhere," he says. He looks offended that you even thought he was capable of that. "You and I are gonna get to Lincoln, either if you like it or not. There, Bill and Frank will help you. We have traded all kinds of things with them, and I know they are very well supplied."

"Why would they help me?"

"They are not just people we trade with," he says. His fingertips brush a strand of hair out of your face. "I know they will."

"What if they changed their minds?"

His pupils lock into your own, his jawline swells as he grits his teeth.

"I'm persistent."

The mission was supposed to be an easy one. Walk out of the QZ undetected, walk fifteen miles to the town of Lincoln, just outside Boston, get our things and come back. Our cargo were the two last spools of aluminum that Joel had promised to trade with them and two packets of seeds. Theirs? Two pounds of rolling tobacco and a gun. Tess couldn't make it, she had appointments with other smugglers, probably the ones who snuck the drugs in; which was more than half of their business. If it wasn't that important, she wouldn't have stayed in the QZ for anything in the world. But Bill and Frank were also important, and Joel couldn't go alone.

The two of you should be home by now, and you wondered if Tess was regretting her decision of asking you to go with him. Last night you had both snuck out of the Boston QZ; and it usually didn't take more than six hours to get to Lincoln. But just outside the city you had bumped into raiders; and a stray bullet had hit you. Now you were stranded in a small cabin lost in the woods, about seven miles away from Lincoln; and unable to walk a single step.

And to top it all off, Joel was enraged and neurotic.

Still with the same expression, he takes your wrist and squeezes two fingers into it. Even if you had preferred him not to, knowing that your heartbeat got wild whenever he was around. You let him check on you, hoping that if your symptoms got better he would let you have a quick nap. Your nervousness, however, doesn't improve despite your efforts of trying to calm yourself down.

"Since when are you a doctor?"

He lets your wrist go, then gets back on his feet and gets his rifle.

"You should rest. You'lll need it," he says, now heading to the entrance. He's gonna be standing on guard all night, you are sure of that. "We're leaving tomorrow morning."

That is when you lose it. You can't believe he is that blind, that caught up in his own world.

"I know in your perfect fantasy this is just a scratch, but I truly can't move, Joel. Even laying here awake is hard. How am I supposed to follow...? Joel!"

But he's out of the house before you even finish the sentence.

[***]

Joel doesn't keep his word.

A few hours later, not even near dawn yet, you get pulled back from a dream. Your eyes take a few minutes to register your surroundings; again. And the memories gallop back to your mind in a rush; accompanied by the burning and piercing pain on the upper right side of your chest. Your eyes shut tight, and you inhale a shallow breath. Even breathing hurts.

"We need to go," Joel whispers. His voice sounds muffled, especially over the sound of your beating heart. "C'mon, wake up."

He is once again rocking you rather than shaking you awake. Just to be able to fall asleep you had rolled back into your chest, cheek once again firmly pressed against that twenty-year-old dusty carpet. When he came back from checking the perimeter, not even five minutes after your argument, he placed his backpack right under your stomach so your right side was elevated. You wouldn't have been able to fall asleep if it wasn't for that. The pain was maddening, atrociously painful. Joel had found you gritting your teeth even in your sleep.

He had said you'd leave the next day, but you felt like not even minutes had passed.

"Morning," you complained, half a grunt accompanying your words. Joel shook you gently again when he saw you relax a second time, and your voice came back. "Y-you said...mor-"

"I know what I said but we can't wait any longer," he answered. "I'm gonna sit you up."

Fear pumped enough adrenaline into your system to wake you up. The ache from before rushed back into your mind, and your 'please' and 'wait' left your mouth like a prayer.

"I can do it," you said, but it sounded more like begging than an affirmation.

"I know you can," he lied. As your eyes opened and you saw his expression —eyes focused on you, trembling hands, half of his face hidden in the shadows, the other half gently licked by the orange-like haze of the dying fire— you understood that you had to be in a really bad condition for him to look at you that way, and feel the need to lie to make you feel better. But then, a second right after that, his shoulders relaxed, his eyes fluttered between your face and the surface of his jacket over your shoulders. His stoic mask was back on. "I'm just gonna help you, okay? But you do it."

He did not, in fact, let you do it.

You had managed to lift yourself barely an inch over the carpet, using all the strength left in your healthy arm, when both his hands curled around your side and pulled you up to his chest. Clenching your jaw, you allowed him to drag you a few feet back and into a seating position against the wall; your whole weight over the left side of your body.

"Don't lean on the other side, your shoulder blade is broken."

"Oh..." you almost chuckled. "Great."

For a second, Joel looks at you as if you were completely insane. He reaches for his backpack, crouching on the place where you were lying just seconds prior. Then takes his flask and doubts when passing it on.

"I'm not that desperate for water," you respond, reaching for the flask and drinking a gulp of the liquid. You swallow despite the soreness in your throat. "Next thing you'll do is spit food into my mouth."

"Not even getting shot shuts your fucking mouth, does it?" he says, grossed out at your comment. However, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Relaxing him has a calming effect on you too.

You try to pass him the flask again, but he refuses.

"No," he says. "Drink it all. You'll need it."

You look at him with narrowed eyes, confused. It's hard to keep a single thought in your head other than the throbbing pain in your chest and back, but you still try. Rather than asking him how you are supposed to walk seven miles, with the aluminum and his pack, you try to approach the matter another way.

"What's the plan?"

He takes a deep breath.

"You're not gonna like it," he says, his deep voice almost slurring the words. It's barely a whisper. He looks into your eyes, then. "I'm gonna carry you."

"What?"

"You heard me."

There's not an ounce of doubt in his eyes. Joel has that look of determination, the one you only really see when he has his eyes set on something really fucking important for him; most times that includes his own brother or not talking about the times before the outbreak. And with that look on his face, you know there's nothing you could possibly say or do to make him reconsider his own words. He's stubborn like that.

You still try.

"It's seven miles, Joel..." you tell him on a thready voice, a whisper. And Joel sighs through his nose —as if he had forgotten. "And we have to carry..."

"We leave everything here," he says. "Come back for it later."

"They won't let us in empty-handed."

"You don't know them."

For Joel to be so certain about it, certain enough as to put both your life and his on the hands of strangers; you understand that their relationship goes beyond trading. Joel had told you about them, about their situation and the first time Tess and him had shared dinner with Bill and Frank. Still, you were suspicious of them, and you thought that he was too; up until now, at least.

"It's still seven miles," you tell him, and you know him, you know he's about to stop talking to you and leave the room if you don't, at least, partly give in to his reasoning. "...are you sure you wanna do it?"

His pleading brown eyes engulf you, then, with an emotion he had never showed before. His gaze diverts for a second to your wound, to the bandages that, as you look at them, you find they are once again covered in blood. They are soaked in it, the skin surrounding it has a large black bruise —internal bleeding, you guess. And when you try to take a full deep breath, you find yourself unable to, at least not at full capacity.

The understanding hits you, then. You don't have much time left.

"I don't have any other choice," Joel says, but what he means is 'I don't want to lose you'.

"Okay."

Not even a full second has passed from your reluctant acceptance, but he is already on his feet. Joel walks to the only table in the room, takes your gun and puts it in his hip, right inside the jean. The only other thing he takes apart from ammo is another set of bandages —and he silently thanks whatever it is out there that he put those there a month ago—. He doesn't have anything to clean the wound, though; and one of his biggest fears is that it might already be infected. Even bandaged it looks bad.

He approaches you, crouches down so he is facing the wound.

"I'm going to tighten the bandage, and I have to keep the pressure," he says, loosening the knot. His fingers are once again stained with you blood, and he has to fight the images of him pressing on your wound from a few hours ago, when he had found you and, with trembling hands, had tried to stop the bleeding coming out in waves. He looks at you, trying to forget the awful picture of your eyes closed, your body limp on the ground. "Bite something."

You reach for the sleeve of his jacket, the one hanging from your shoulders; and put the padded cuff of his jacket into your mouth.

Joel doesn't give you a warning; and you're not sure if that's a good or bad thing, either. He presses the heel of his hand right over the covered hole in your chest, with such strength that you wonder if he will end up breaking your clavicle in half. As he presses your body against the wall, you can almost feel the cracked bones in your back smashing against each other.

Needless to say, the pain is blinding. The view of the room, the feeling of his heat around you, the scent of him under your nose... all gone in a matter of seconds. Your vision turns white, all your senses stop functioning. Over the scream that falls from your lips, muffled by the jacket, you hear him say:

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

He lets go, and your vision immediately darkens, the shadows flowing from the corners of the room quick to reach you. With your last grip on reality you feel yourself melting against the wall, slowly slipping to the side. Joel catches you before you hit the floor.

Cold water is what brings you back. Your breathing quickens at the coldness of it, and the next thing you feel are his wet hands palming your cheeks, throwing water from his flask all over your face.

"C'mon," he mumbles. "I need you awake."

Your eyes flutter open, your whole body relaxed now that he's not applying pressure; but alert enough that your unfocused eyes make a single shape out of him.

While coming back into yourself, Joel does not have any time to lose. He takes his jacket over your shoulders and slips your left arm inside the sleeve, the other, where the wound is, he decides to leave it as it is; and buttons it over your chest so you're not exposed.

"You good?"

In any other situation you'd have said some joke, or just something to piss him off. But as of right now, nothing comes to your clouded mind; and even if something did come, you're too exhausted to even do the mental effort to say it. So you just nod.

"Okay," he nods too, talking to himself inside his head, then takes your face in his hands and looks into your eyes. "You're fine, you hear me? I'm gonna carry you and you're gonna be on my back; so I need you talking all the damn time, alright?

You nod again.

"Starting now."

"Y-yes... okay."

"Good," he says. His hand crawls to the back of your neck, and he joins both your foreheads. He takes quick breaths. He's terrified when he whispers. "You're doing so good. I'm so proud of you."

"Y-you... are?"

"Mm-hmm," he says. And as his words settle into your brain, you feel your chest warm. When you open your eyes and he separates, there's a tear on his cheek, but he's quick to wipe it off. "I'm gonna open the front door."

It's just an excuse, you both know it, but neither dares to say anything. None of you wants to talk about the elephant in the room, the fact that your chances are slim even if this works.

Joel returns quickly, with his lashes wet and reddened eyes. It makes you speechless, to know that all this effort and tears are for you. You'd have never, in a million years, thought you'd ever see Joel Miller cry; let alone for you. He had always been so quiet, so detached from everyone, even from Tess.

Without a word, his hands get hooked on the underside of your thighs. He lifts you up, seemingly effortlessly, and your inner thighs surround his hips. You take a deep breath, again —or at least try to— as you try not to blush and show those feelings you buried long ago. This is not the time, nor the place; so you allow your head to follow his range of motion; forwards. Soon, your nose is pressed against the lapels of his denim shirt. With your good arm, you grab one of his broad shoulders. The other falls limp, and even that little movement hurts like hell.

He freezes, his shoulders now stiff under your hand. His beard grazes your jaw as he tries to look at you, so still in his arms.

"You okay?"

"Yeah..."

Better than okay, you want to respond. Better than I've been in a long time. But you don't.

He leaves you on the table, on the edge, with your legs dangling. His eyes waver for a second as he leaves you there, his hands squeeze your knees in such a brief movement that you wonder if he was even conscious of that. He looks like he wants to say something, but he can't think of what, so he turns around and bends his knees a little to get you to a good height.

"I need you to push yourself up with your good arm," he instructs. "and keep the other still, okay?"

"Okay," you respond, fighting the urge to just nod instead.

Not even following his instructions to a t saves you from the pain. The effort, even with your arm limp in the air, makes your body shudder and an agonizing stab runs through your whole spine. The scream that tores from the depths of your throat is so intense that Joel hesitates to put you back on the table, his back trembles for a second as his body shivers in distress. But, in the end, he has you in the air with a good hold.

He waits, but doesn't hear anything except shallow breaths, doesn't feel anything but the weight of your head over his shoulder.

"You with me?" he asks. He is seconds away from aborting the mission.

"Y-yeah..."

Your arm surrounds his neck loosely. Your fist is closed tightly, grabbing the other shoulder, and he wishes he could touch you, give you some kind of comfort, but he can't let go from his grip under your knees.

Joel does not have the privilege of time, every second is precious, so not even giving it a try, he starts walking as if you weighted nothing. He crosses the front door and the freezing cold wind of the East Coast cuts your cheeks. If he notices —and you know that he has, wearing just his shirt in the middle of the night— he doesn't react.

"Remember what I told you?" he asks.

In less than a minute he has crossed the space from the cabin to the highway, where you were surprised by raiders. You look around, see the bodies of five men sprawled on the floor; lifeless, drowning in a pool of their own blood. One of them has his face mauled to nothing. The sight is so sickening —or maybe you are getting so ill— that a sudden dizziness takes hold of your shivering body.

"Hey..."

"I'm sorry..." you start, teeth chattering from the cold. "I'm sorry I screamed into your ear earlier."

A sound, half a relieved sigh and half a chuckle, leaves his mouth.

"I'm half deaf from that ear anyway."

A light chuckle falls from your lips too. Joel keeps walking west through the highway, and you keep yourself desperately clinging to him for dear life. The moon is your only other companion; without her, you both would be completely blind in the darkness of the night.

[***]

Joel probably hadn't thought about the possibility of taking breaks along the way. That's why, fourty-five minutes later, and under a beautiful sunrise of orange tones, he's struggling to keep going. His knees are screaming for him to stop, his biceps and hands tired of walking with a person's weight over his shoulders. And for the first time in years he remembers the times before the outbreak, when he was capable of lifting and moving huge pieces of furniture; often times on his own, other times with just Tommy.

He might have overestimated his own strength, assuming he was as strong as before. But it seems that not only his mental health has deteriorated after Sarah's death, no. All of him has become older and darker and more broken since then. He hardly recognizes himself in the mirror anymore.

"Joel?"

"Yeah..." he gasps, out of air. "Sorry, I got distracted. You were saying...?"

It is in moments like this that he hates not to be that same person he was before. He wonders if he is, finally, paying for his past sins, for all the people, infected or not, that he has killed.

It is unfair, the fact that you're paying for his piper.

"You should stop for a while," you tell him, your voice low like a whisper. The warm air from your mouth slithers across his skin, up his neck, over his ear, and almost sends a shiver down his spine.

"No."

"Joel..." you huff. Before speaking again, you take a big gulp of air. "We are not getting anywhere if you don't take breaks. You'll just wear yourself off before we reach the halfway mark."

His mind refuses to agree, but it's as if his body takes a relieved breath when he hears the words. Little by little, his body starts to listen to you before his mind does. His thighs are screaming, sore from the pain of exertion; and before he acknowledges, even, his body has stopped moving.

"Okay," he gasps, quick tired breaths quickly entering and leaving his lungs. "...but just a minute, we don't have time for this bullshit."

"Okay," you say, in the same tone he used earlier with you; when he lied and said he knew you could sit up on your own. "Just a minute."

He pulls to the side of the road, and with the last of his strength he kneels down and tries to lay you on the ground as carefully as possible. You fall on your ass on the wet ground, but at least you don't hurt yourself on the spot. He asks you for the millionth time in the last twenty-four hours if you are okay.

"I think I'm doing better than you," you respond, but your voice is so exhausted that Joel would love to just lay next to you and lull you to sleep.

He turns around, his whole weight sitting on the grass as he takes gulps of oxygen. His eyes shut tightly, he wipes off a tear of sweat from his temple and looks at you.

Wide-open eyes stare back at you, but just for a split second. He gets closer, his thumb brushing the shoulder of the brown jacket, his brown jacket. His eyes pierce yours.

"Are you sure?"

"That bad do I look?"

Joel doesn't look at you, not at your face getting paler by the second or the dark circles under your eyes, or your hair now dishevelled. He sees you on his memories and can barely recognize you; your skin and eyes always glowing under the sun, your hair always perfectly done. Your job was often to act as an HR for their clients, and very rarely took actual FEDRA jobs that stained your hands; you weren't like Joel, you didn't care about rations or money or whatever.

Expert fingers gently tug at the buttons, unbuttoning them so he could take a look to the wound. He had barely a glimpse of it when your fingers stopped his hands. Joel looks at you with those puppy eyes, as if you were about to faint in the next second.

"If you wanted to see me naked you didn't have to wait until I got shot, you know?"

You had said it in a playful manner, kidding, as a joke; but he saw beyond that. Part of you had only expected him to laugh, the other was dying —not pun intended— for him to kiss you. You'd have never said it if you weren't in this position, you'd have never gotten in between Joel and Tess.

However, he didn't laugh, didn't make any funny remark. The way he looked at you, from under his eyebrows, lit a spark of hope somewhere inside you. Deep, deeper than your conscious mind would have ever reached. Joel didn't say anything, not even chuckled. His eyes came back to the wound, and uncovered the full sight of it.

He had to fight a shocked gasp. His eyes fluttered, while holding his breath, between your own face and the wound. The bandage was still soaked in blood, that he had expected, but not the large bruise growing into your neck; or your right hand slightly paler than the other. He lifted, with trembling fingers, a corner of the bandage, and his action caused a trickle of dark blood to gush out, as if he had crushed a piece of watermelon between his fingers and it was now running down his arm. He looked below, inside his jacket, and saw a trail of blood that landed right into your navel.

This time, it was impossible for him not to react. Not only his face, but also his body. He tried to get back on his two feet again, but before he finished the action, your fist closed around his wrist.

"Joel..." he heard you call.

"We need to go, now."

Pressing your lips in a sad smile, you pulled him to the ground and he sat, mesmerised on that face he had only yet seen once; that time when he got too drunk on a Friday night and told you about Sarah at three in the morning. He felt his pulse quicken, his heart beating at the ends of his fingertips.

"It's okay," you told him. Your gentle touch brushed his palm, danced around over his tan skin. "You can rest."

Joel felt like he was in a fever dream. The setting certainly felt like it. You hadn't left the Boston QZ in a long while, and he had never pictured you out of those big silver walls either. He had not agreed to Tess' idea either, the dangers beyond the walls were almost impossible to escape. Still, Tess and him knew the city, they could get out fairly easily, had done that for a couple years to share stories over dinner with Bill and Frank. And Joel had loved the idea of seeing you sitting at that dinner table next to him, surrounded by a garden full of flowers, going through the dresses in the boutique that Tess had sworn you'd love.

He had not signed up for this.

"We need to go, please..." he tried a second time, but you just shook your head. He understood, somehow, what you meant.

"A minute won't make a difference," you told him. In reality, you wanted to tell him that you'd be dead when he got the both of you to Lincoln, anyway. "If you are tired we will never get there."

Useless and powerless as he felt, his only option was waiting. He took your hand, intertwined his fingers with yours and took a deep breath. You had never seen him so upset.

"What are you so scared of?"

At your words, his lower lip quivered slightly; it would almost have gone unnoticed if it wasn't because you had been watching him attentively for so many years. He looked at you, eyes barely half open, from under his eyelashes.

"You're very important to me," he said. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, he seemed to be even more breathless than he was before. Joel had a hard time admitting his feelings, even to himself. "I don't know if you understand to what extent you're important to me."

"I know..." you answered, nodding, your hand squeezed his for a second, trying to give him strength. "But you have Tess home, and your brother loves you... It will hurt for a while..."

"Shut. Up."

His eyes were tightly shut when he said it. It was a metaphor, almost, the way his eyes were closed not just to the physical world, but to the whole situation too that he couldn't escape from.

The tip of your tongue wetted your lips.

"What I'm trying to say is... it will pass..."

His chest heaved, his gaps the only sound that filled the space between the two of you. And you continued:

"People die all the time, Joel; and most times we can't do anything about it."

His body rushed at you, his hands locked perfectly on both your cheeks, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle finally in place.

"Not you, you hear me? Not you," he almost growled, his face a mixture of anger, determination, and grief. "Never you. You're not allowed to leave me. I will never forgive you."

There was something hidden between the lines, something Joel wasn't saying. It was something you had denied yourself for a long time, for years, something you had insisted on not seeing because you didn't want to see it. Because, deep down, you were afraid that Joel would never love you back, that he would break your heart, that the only good man you'd ever known inside the walls of the Boston QZ would also be the one to abandon you to your luck.

Joel had been your family for so long, and you had unconsciously protected yourself from seeing him as something else. But now there it was, clearly, latent in his confession. Your punishment for years of silence was now time, or rather, the lack of it.

"I'm not giving up," he said. "and I need you not to give up either."

He's close. His hot breath smells sweet -so instinctively Joel- and it's all around your face. His flesh is warm over the freezing skin of your cheeks. His body around you is shelter, is home.

Joel is soon leaning in. He's all erratic breathing, rapid heartbeat and trembling hands; and as you close your eyes to allow his presence to swallow you like a black hole, he closes his eyes too.

He doesn't let go, not just yet. He breathes in into your quick breaths the same way you revel in his.

"I need an answer," he whispers over your mouth.

"I won't, either."

At first it's like a collision. He kisses you angrily for a split second, demanding and impatient; then, once he knows this is really happening, once he does understand that this is —finally— not a dream, he relaxes into your touch, your fingers delineating his jawline, caressing the beard there.

He's quick, quicker than you'd have expected him to be; definitely quicker then he would have liked. He separates, then; and looks down at his jacket and the drops of blood staining the insides of it. It's not enough blood to send you into shock again, but it means part of the wound is ripping. You need stitches, not just a couple of bandages.

"Enough resting then," he says.

[***]

Seven miles is usually nothing for Joel. In the first few months trading with Bill and Frank, Tess and him usually walked the fifteen miles that separated the city and the town at least twice a month. But this is all the more difficult, not just carrying you there, but knowing that he is running out of time.

And you seem hellbent on making the journey even more difficult.

"So...Tess?"

"Pass."

You huff, and the warm air sends a shiver down his spine; but he says nothing.

"Okay."

Your voice sounds so disappointed that he feels a pang of guilt. You know him better than to insist, and he knows that too. The guilt increases, though; and now he's inhaling a big gulp of air while still walking as fast as he possibly can without hurting his own knees.

"We fucked a few times, before," he says. "but that doesn't mean anything. She's my colleague. That's all."

If he was better with words, and feelings, he could say that he didn't feel anything for her. He could say that their hookups were nothing, just a fun thing they used to do before, before he realized that the one who he really wanted was you. A few months back he had realized that it never actually satisfied him, that those moments with Tess weren't as fun and innocent as they seemed to be before. They had talked about it, of course. He didn't want to play with her feelings, and that had been the end of it. She was just as fine without him, anyway.

"I thought you two were dating."

"If selling drugs for a living is what you call dating, then yes."

Without even looking at you, he knew you were smiling, he could almost feel your lips stretching over his shirt.

"I..." you said, then he heard you take another deep breath before talking again. "I'm sorry I asked you," another breath. "I... ran out of things to say."

His brow furrowed in confusion.

"You can say anything," he says. "Anything you really like, even a story."

Anything just to know you're there...

"Well..." you started. Then, a wheezing noise filled the air, followed by a gasp. "I... liked rock music-" silence. "...back in the day."

"You okay?"

Your fist tightened around his shoulder, your forehead pressing against his trapezius. He heard that wheezing sound again, followed by a pant. His hands squeezed harder the tender flesh under her knees.

Joel tried to look at her, but all he could see from his peripheral vision was the top of her head and one eye tightly closed. His throat turned into knots.

"Baby..." that was the most gentle tone you had ever heard coming from his mouth. "C'mon baby. Hold on, we're almost there."

His whole body felt paralyzed, and he had to force himself to keep walking.

What he didn't know was that your lungs were burning. They felt like a pair of balloons squeezing against your ribs, trying to expand beyond its cage. And it made all the pain in your back, from the shot, double as painful. The air you tried to swallow so bad, sounded like a whistle, like the breeze through an almost closed window. You were suffocating.

"Talk to me, c'mon."

With a painful drag of air, you complied.

"I can't..." your fist tightened around the fabric of his shirt. "I can't."

"Goddamnit..." he was panicking now. "Okay, that's okay baby. Just hold on to me, don't let go."

Unable to do anything else, you just nodded as best you could and kept on holding on to him. His eyes desperately looked for signs of the town, and far away, in the distance, the row of trees ended; and he walked faster, hoping that Bill had already seen the both of you through the cameras.

"J-Joel"

You struggled to find air, and, therefore, the words.

"Easy, easy" he said. "Just a bit more. You can do it, I know you can."

His words lingered in the air, unanswered, not even him fully believed them. Joel was starting to feel his own shirt wet with blood from your wound. The feeling made him sick, his own imagination as he pictured what Bill was watching through the cameras, made it all a hundred times worse.

He kept hearing the panting, the wheezing, becoming more desperate by the second. He realized, with horror, that you were suffocating righ there, on his back; from a collapsing lung, he guessed.

He shouted Bill's name as he saw the fence that separated them from the town. Joel wasn't sure if he could hear him, but tried anyway.

He felt your grip on his shirt hesitate, and he had to fight the instinct to squeeze your hand; if he had done it, you'd have fallen from his own grip. He heard you try and say his name.

"Save it," he responded, even if it came out not as reassuring as he would have liked. "Don't try to talk."

Before he reached the fence, it was already opening. Bill came out running, yelling something that he was too distracted to distinguish, Frank came behind him. Joel felt his knees wobble once through the gate. And now kneeling on the floor, he called your name, tried to turn his head to take a glimpse of you.

"You did it. We're here."

He noticed, then, that everything seemed all too silent. Everything that happened after that, happened very quickly. The hand that had been gripping his shirt slipped, limp over his shoulder.

His mind disconnected, completely unaware of the other two people approaching. He released you with all the care that a person could have had, and his arms immediately caught you in an embrace. The sight of your closed eyes made him panic, and not having even checked your pulse, he buried his face into your neck and sobbed.

Trails of blood ran through his forearms, and he threw up all the words that passed through his mind; a string of 'please stay' and 'I'm sorry'.

"Joel," Frank struggled with him, fingers digging into his shoulder. "Joel you have to let go. Let us help her."

He was too far gone, so much so that once your body hit the floor, Frank didn't allow him to touch you again. He sobbed, and, for a second, Bill saw himself in him. He would have never thought he would see Joel in this state, but yet there he was. He kept pressure on the wound, and saw himself in Joel, and Frank in you; and promised he would never let this happen to the two of them.

Never.

[***]

The sun comes out the next morning. As it always does, as it always has. Orange light and blue skies illuminate the room, the clouds shine a different color; and Joel blinks; absolutely exhausted, devastated.

His body is heavy, even if he's not holding any of his weight. He's sitting on the cold tiles, on the floor, his sore knees and thighs in the space under the bed, his head lying on the mattress, his whole body is bent over and it feels like jelly. His eyes are the only thing moving, they look at the window and see the night sky turn into daylight.

Joel couldn't possibly say that he slept in that position; because he didn't actually sleep. He hasn't had a second of sleep since you got shot two days ago. Lying on the bed, is you, dormant; and his thumb draws circles on the back of you hand even if he's not paying attention to it. It comforts him to a degree, at least.

Suddenly, pretty much everything has lost its meaning. Frank opens the door an hour later, almost tripping with the tray of food and water that he left the night before for Joel. He hasn't touched any of it. In fact, he forgot about it, but if it bothers him, Frank doesn't say anything. He takes it in his hands so he can take it to the kitchen downstairs.

"We played 'I will survive' in the radio" he whispers before leaving. "It's a 70s song, but Tess will get the meaning."

"Thank you," he mutters, his mouth pasty from barely speaking in the last twenty-four hours. Funnily enough, the only word he's said to them is 'thank you'.

"You're welcome, Joel," he says. After a few seconds, waiting, he makes a dissatisfied sound. Frank approaches Joel, his palm squeezing his shoulder. "You should eat something, at least. Is there anything you want?"

Joel looks at him, lifting his cheek from the mattress for the first time. His eyes are blood-shot and black circles adorn his eyes.

"Coffee."

"Not coffee, you need sleep."

He huffs, his eyes lost in the window again. Frank, knowing he won't get anything from him again, vanishes behind the door and into the kitchen. He will bring him warm food later, hoping the smell will make him eat something despite his unwillingness to listen to any signal of hunger from his own body.

A few moments later, your hand slips from his. As he loses your touch, a pang hits the pit of his stomach. But then, as he lifts from the mattress again, your fingertips lightly touch his chin, your thumb lovingly brushing his beard.

"Baby?"

Maybe he lost his sense of time, because he didn't expect you to wake up yet. In any case, when he sees your eyes open he practically pounces on the bed. He sits on the edge, and swallows the image of you looking at him.

"Morning."

He smiles at your words, feels his strength coming back into his body.

"You're here," he says.

Even beaten up as you look, he thinks you are gorgeous. Your face has regained its usual color, the bruising is coming down, changing colors little by little, the wound is stitched and bandaged, and the blood flow seems to reach your fingertips normally once again. Joel has no idea how Bill fixed the collapsing lung, he had said something about medical knowledge being necessary in the field too, but he hadn't paid attention. He doesn't care about the details, though. He just cares that you're safe and sound, and despite the close call, that has seemed to be the end result to this whole dilemma.

There's no blood in sight, not even in the bandages. Frank had washed the blood from your hair the day before, and Joel had helped with the rest. He wished he could have you like this everyday: happy, clean, safe...

In the last few hours Joel had discovered he was jealous. He wished he had a town like Lincoln all to himself, just so he could see you picking flowers in the front garden.

"I'm here," you told him. The words felt like strawberries in his mouth. "and I'm not giving up on you."

He released a breath he didn't know he was holding, leaned in for both your foreheads to meet, and kissed you.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fanfic #tlou spoilers #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #the last of us fanfic #pedro pascal x oc

5K notes · View notes

satubby · 6 months ago

Text

•Daddy's girl Second part•

[See your face smile once again]

Here is the part before this (Maybe it doesn't even make sense but god, it was 2020, we still barely knew about Kenjaku)

♡ >>> 《☆》 <<< ♡

He hears through the gloom, the crunch of bones and the sound of the city… or maybe it was his hallucination?

Satoru feels like he is in a deep ocean, drowning... Darkness surrounds him, like deep waters that drag him out of his consciousness or perhaps drown him, he no longer knows anything and he doesn't want to keep thinking about it.

Death, the feeling of loneliness that has always accompanied him... even after Suguru Geto left him alone, you had never left him, you were his daughter and yet he ignored you until it was too late to realize. The only thing that made him feel happy, the only human that saw him as Satoru and not the strong cursed sorcerer that was the imbalance in this world of witchcraft. YOU WERE his daughter... but you couldn't be with him anymore, because you were dead and before that your relationship with him was distant.

He remembers that by the time he realized how much you had distanced yourself from him, his feelings no longer mattered to you, just as he once never cared about yours... By then you were an abandoned and alone girl, surrounded by death and a father who left her to not face his fears and blinded by the pain of losing a friendship.

So although he will try his best to repair it, you no longer wanted to know anything about him even when you lived in the same house, you didn't even give him a look or a word. Maybe that's why he tried to be a better father than when he was young and stupid.

You could call it a good thing, it's kind of cute, right? But for someone broken like you, their love was false and although Satoru could see that you really wanted to accept it, in the end the pride of both of you and your injuries prevented you from getting closer. He regrets having left you alone, when you barely knew about the world, and he left you in the hands of others, fearing that when you saw him you would ask for Suguru. That you complained to him for killing his own friend who was like your uncle.

It was stupid if he's honest, looking at current things...he shouldn't have pushed you away believing you'd be better off if he didn't confront you and instead showered you with material things. Satoru did not know how to really love and now that he was lying on the ground, smiling and trusting his students... He realizes again that despite the pride of both of them, you continued to love him as your father, moments before your death how you smiled at him by hugging him and dragging yourself towards him in your last minutes alive.

It may sound selfish on his part, but he really wishes he had said 'I love you' to you even though you were mad at him for leaving you alone, for yelling at you in his teenage and young adult days, at you, his precious little sunshine.

For once he wants to be selfish, he really does, just this once... Damn!! His heart has begun to stop beating, his half is split in two, he laughs coughing up black blood... This fight may be a loss but he smiles knowing that maybe it's karma for leaving you to your fate, saving so many lives but at the expense of yours and his, which if you think about it, wasn't worth it that much.

At this thought, something new crossed his mind: Your beautiful face had not left his memories. Your expression before being hugged by him... His beautiful baby, moments before he died.

He remembers every detail of you and when you played in the bathtub with the rubber ducks, you and Suguru smiling at him, but now those are just memories, of when you both lived and how Shoko used to hit him for heating the powdered milk too much. He misses his friends, you more than anyone...

Satoru wonders, would it have been different if he hadn't left you alone and stayed by your side? He regrets having pushed you away, that you should have made your decisions in the face of his emotional abandonment and all because he was still mourning Geto, forgetting about your existence, longing and lonely like him.

"Tired" was his only answer to that simple question. That's the obvious. Look at his current state... Time, time, Sukuna looks at him, whispers words that he honestly no longer cared about and didn't listen to... his time in this place is over.

"I'm sorry my dear students... I'm sorry my mochi" And although he became a wandering being of revenge until he ran into Sukuna in Megumi's body after having killed the elders, he finally found the peace he was looking for so much. Only the king of curses can kill him now that he himself has become the thing he most swears to purge.

Then Satoru stops breathing, being 'exorcised' and so he lets himself sink into the sea of blissful death.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

The abyss became deeper, his soul fell slowly, Satoru stopped feeling little by little and the only thing he thought while he felt currents of darkness passing through him... was that lullaby.

You make me happy when skies are gray

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you

Please, don't take my sunshine away

The letters came and went, in the distance as if the water swallowed them, the former special sorcerer felt numb floating in nothingness, only the light of something peeking in the mist of the dark sea

The other night, dear, as I laid sleepingI dreamed I held you in my arms

When I awoke, dear, I was mistakenSo I hung my head and cried

Then he understood that that voice is his, Satoru smiles inwardly, that lullaby which he sang to you when you were distressed, to apologize for leaving you alone on dark nights.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are gray

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you

Please, don't take my sunshine away

And before the last syllable of the song, he felt hands grab his face, giving him a hug, Satoru cried in silence when he saw you there, his little sun and his beloved mochi—His abandoned baby...

"Come back, dad... Do it right this time, I'll forgive you for everything!" Your voice sounded in his mind as your soul enveloped him and you walked away, letting him fall into the abyss. And like a shock of reality, Satoru opened his eyes standing in front of the bathroom, on the other side you could hear tears and sobs, it was you, well you seemed younger.

He was surprised to see himself alive and— Younger, he looked like he was in his 20's and that meant that you were 4 years old. He was happy, but then memories ran through his mind, hitting him with headaches.

Moments before you had come home from school with your babysitter, you had shown him a drawing you made for him but he ignored you, saying he was busy and you complained to him crying because he also forgot your dance recital... Which leads to why you are locked in the bathroom.

Trembling, he approaches the lock opening the door, you were curled up with swollen eyes full of tears, uncomfortable, the albino approached you, crouching down and being clumsy when hugging you.

"Shh! Ota-chan is sorry for yelling at you earlier my little one, I was stressed and I shouldn't have said those things to you, will you forgive your fool Ota-chan?" Your eyes looked at him and despite your tears, you hugged him, of course you were still that lonely and vulnerable girl who begged for his attention.

"...Ota-chan is a fool, you left (Y/N) alone at the recital, it hurt a lot" You complained looking at him with a pout, Satoru hugged you getting up with you and kissing your cheek, this time you would have ALL of his attention.

"Ota-chan I'm sorry my baby, I promise that even if I'm busy, I'll come see you and we can go for a walk... What do you want me to do to make it up to you hmm?"

His voice softens as he speaks to you, he no longer dares to be harsh with you, after everything that will happen in the future, at least if he can't stop it, he will protect you.

"Are you seriously going to make it up to (Y/N)? W-well if you don't mind, (Y/n) wants to go to the park" You didn't even turn to look at him which he understood, after years of ignoring you and emotionally abusing you in cold ways, he understood your fear.

"Then it will be Tokyo Disneyland! But for that we must bathe you, and we will clean that beautiful face, it seems that you have a duck's mouth for eyes hahaha" Satoru mocked, playing with you and pulling on your baby cheeks.

"Ota-chan, don't make fun of (Y/N)'s beautiful eyes! You were guilty!" You sulked, grabbing his hair and pulling it, then you laughed when you saw his pained faces, but he didn't even say anything to you, you're still a girl, he must be a better dad for you.

♡ >>> 《☆》 <<< ♡

For the next few days he pampered and loved you, when before he would forget to go to your school projects with Nanami or Shoko going in his place, now he never missed even if he had to threaten the higher ups letting them know that their old asses were still alive because that's how he wanted it, if he killed them like he did before, it would bring a lot of chaos and the truth is he doesn't want to do so much paperwork and much less stay away from you.

He also made sure to spend hours playing with you, showering you or having bubble battles and even inviting Megumi over (well technically Megumi lived with you even though she spent time studying) He also bought you a polaroid camera, it seemed like you loved taking photos.

Little by little Satoru saw his relationship with you blossom and you opened up little by little, coming to love him as he loves you. He thought they would be happy until— What was supposed to happen happened, Yuta and all the events that came after he came under his tutelage.

Due to the many problems that his old friend caused him, Satoru did not want to see the scene where he had to kill him again, he did not want to and he even stood watching it. Geto smiled at him, saying that he sure looked pathetic, that he understood the path he took but that Satoru shouldn't feel guilty.

That night he came home reliving his memories and emotions, even though it has already happened twice he can't get over it, but unlike the past (future?) you were there hugging him, you were a very smart girl and you didn't ask anything, just hugging him.

"It hurts a lot right, Ota-chan? (Y/N) won't ask questions, she's there for you" Satoru smiled and cried, only you could comfort him, he clung to you and whispered a lot of 'I love you my baby', not this time he hid his pain under happiness and you simply decided to play to take care of him, but that simple game distracted him from his pain.

"Tonight, you will be a patient and (Y/N) the doctor!!" You laughed as you spent the entire night playing with him until you fell asleep. When he took you to the bed, he smiled softly, kissing your forehead and letting you sleep, little did you both know that your pure love would turn crazy and passionate.

♡ >>> 《☆》 <<< ♡

It was your 8th birthday, Satoru had made sure to give you the best party and although you had video calls with your acquaintances and his to congratulate you, something very deep inside him that had been brewing since he went back in time and killed his friend again, somewhat selfish and paranoid. Maybe that's why you didn't have many friends, only Megumi and those from the jujutsu technical school, maybe he was VERY selfish by monopolizing your time.

But Satoru loved having you close and his many past/future regrets made him act like this. For 4 years he has been isolating you, you no longer go to school and you have private tutors, he fears that you want to leave like in the past, that others will monopolize your time when you could well do it with him. What if it was excessive? He was, but he didn't care about other people's opinions and even if his coworkers and friends told him that it was bad to isolate you, Satoru only made them less worried, you were fine like that.

Not for nothing has he killed and sacrificed anyone who interfered with his plans with you, the elderly were the first and those who bothered you followed them, he has already lost count of how many he killed, many times you almost died and that is why he preferred to lock you up, and you as a malleable girl (as hateful as it may sound, he just thinks you're very sweet and innocent) You think this is normal, it's just your precious daddy taking care of you.

"Ota-chan!! I've grown up, I'm 14 cm taller than the table!" You laughed raising your arms, Satoru smiled hugging you and lifting you into his arms. Yes, you definitely don't need to leave the house with anyone other than him, your precious golden cage where no one can touch you, much less take you away from him, will no longer allow you to die at the hands of others or be used against him.

"Tsk, Tsk! My little baby is growing, do you want to catch up with your Ota-chan? First drink milk so you can reach me! My dwarfy!" His lips went to your belly and tickled you, left behind was that girl who was abandoned and resentful of him, but who waited until the end, loving him in silence.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are gray

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you

Please, don't take my sunshine away

The other night, dear, as I laid sleepingI dreamed I held you in my arms

When I awoke, dear, I was mistakenSo I hung my head and cried

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are gray

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you

Please, don't take my sunshine away

TAG LIST: @louismae, @byakuyasgirlfriendandwife, @moonymoons-blog and 831 people from the previous post

And I thank all the people for waiting for this, damn it took me 4 years hahaha ha... I'm really sorry, but I was depressed so I had no inspiration or head for this, it's just a hobby thanks for your support [UNEDITED!]

253 notes · View notes

mysticfalls01 · 1 year ago

Text

Soulmates

(Alessia Russo x reader)

Everyone knew that you and Less were soulmates, they could see the love that you guys have for each other through a simple look.

You met Less when you were only 5 years old. She was playing soccer with her older brother when she accidentally hit you with her ball. You started crying and she immediately went to console you, she didn’t understand why but she felt the necessity of making you smile. The moment you lifted your head she saw your green eyes, magically in that moment green became her favorite color and you guys became inseparable.

When you guys were 12 Less started to feel butterflies each time, she saw you in the stands when she had a match.

When you were 15 she asked you out in a date as she realized that she liked you as more than friends and in your third date she asked you to be her girlfriend.

“y/nn I know that it’s our third date and I can’t wait anymore to ask you. Would you like to become my girlfriend?” Less asked with a nervous voice.

“Yes Less! What took you so long baby? I've been waiting for years for you to ask me” you said with a playful voice

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You liked football but let’s say that you didn’t have the skills so, you left the playing part to Less while you liked more the behind the scenes. You loved how much the stats could say a lot of a team and even there were times when the stats weren’t reflected on the final score of the game.

When Lessi turned 18 she decided to go to the States to play for UNC, that was the first challenge of your relationship as you feared her finding someone better than you. She reassured you that you were the only one for her so, you guys stayed in a long-distance relationship.

While she went to UNC you decided to go to Barcelona to study sport analytics. You were one of the best students of the program and that called FC Barcelona attention. You went and did a kind of internship for them for their women’s team, your job was to work with the other analysts, explain the reports to the head coach and then explain the numbers to the players.

In 2020 Less came back to the UK while you stayed some months more in Barcelona to finish your degree. During your time there you became friends to the girls of the team, specially to the older members as they understood the importance of your job. When you got your degree your time with them ended and you went back to England. Even if your time ended Barcelona still would hire you to be their analyst for the big games.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You moved back to England, more specifically to Manchester as United signed Less for three years. You were static to be back with the love of your life, your soulmate. Having been separated from Lessi was the hardest thing that you had ever done and you didn't wanted to do it again.

In 2021 Less with the help of Mary and Tooney asked you the big question. She rented out a restaurant just for you guys, she brought you your favorite flowers and after the most perfect date she got down in one knee. Mary and Tooney were hidden capturing the moment as she wanted to remeber it forever.

“y/n I’ve loved you even before I understood the meaning of love. I’ll forever be grateful to my brother as the day I met you he convinced me to go to the park. That day green became my favorite color. You are my number one supporter, and you never missed a game until I went to UNC. Even if I decided to go there, we stayed in a relationship and you don’t know it but you became my rock, with your support I knew that everything was possible. You could have perfectly stayed in Barcelona and work for one of the biggest clubs in the world however, you came back because of me. I remember telling my mom the day I met you that I would marry you before I fully understood what that meant but now, I do and I plan making those words true. y/n l/n will you marry me and make me the happiest woman alive? “

“Yes Lessi! I’ll marry you!”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

In 2022 after the Euros and before the start of the new season you married your soulmate. Your wedding was full of friends, families, and football legends in the making. Your friends from Barcelona came to the wedding and even Aitana was your maid of honor while for Less it was Tooney. That day couldn't had been more perfect, you had everything you wanted.

In 2023 Arsenal became interested in Less, they even offered you a contract to join them as an analyst. They knew that Less wouldn’t join them if she had to leave you behind.

Now you and your wife work for the same club even if sometimes Barcelona still hire you for some matches. It was the beginning of a new chapter in your journey but you knew that with your soulmate beside you everything was going to be alright.

You met your soulmate by accident and everything because of football ball that she had hit too hard.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

It was about time for me to write something, even if it's short, for my favorite player <3

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #woso one shot

519 notes · View notes

hotjaneaustenmenpoll · 8 months ago

Text

Round Three Round Up!

In Round Three we were seeing double as 6 out of our 8 pairs were put against their alternative selves and we asked why not pit two bad bitches against each other ?

In the only match-up where the newer version won out we lost another one of our tournament's Mr Knightleys as you declared that riding through rain, willing to ride through worse was not enough to win your hearts - instead he must have a proper understanding of muslin! And so Mr Tilney (2007) became our first Quarter-finalist.

Mr Knightley (1996) was not alone in taking his leave of us as your votes decided that Johnny Flynn's Mr Knightley (2020) was too blonde badly done compared to Mr Knightley (2009) and must go!

Mr Elliot (2022) will be likely soon spotted in town with a Mrs Clay on his arm as though he may have proved himself the hottest of the Persuasion (2022) men he was no match for Colonel Brandon (1995). Joining him in bad-boy exile is Willoughby (2008) who could not beat the man best known as Emma Thompson's husband leaving Willoughby (1995) as the last libertine standing.

In another win for Sense and Sensibility (1995) Edward Ferrars (1995) proved that while a Wet Shirt scene written by Andrew Davies might have worked once, Dan Stevens chopping wood in the rain was too blonde not enough to prevail against Hugh Grant and the power of being married to Emma Thompson in any universe, real or imagined.

Captain Wentworth (1995) also sailed through against his 2007 counterpart as the voters told us once again that they hated blonde men if it was made in '95 that man was staying alive for another round and so Captain Wentworth (2007) becomes only a gallant Captain Wentworth, in a small paragraph at one corner of the newspapers.

In one of our tightest run polls that went back and forth several times it was Bingley Vs Bingley but in another win for the '95 contingent - the curly hair clinched it and Mr Bingley (1995) proved the victor.

And of course I must end with the biggest poll of the week, breaching the walls of our little tournament to be voted on by 28,987 tumblr users, the poll that ended in a most well deserved 50/50 split, Mr Darcy Vs Mr Darcy. How could anyone vote for THAT Mr Darcy you yelled at each other - HAND FLEX! WET SHIRT! you cried! But when push came to shove despite 14,484 of you declaring that you loved him most ardently 14,503 of you had decided he was the last man on earth who you could ever be prevailed upon to marry and left that wet cat out in the rain. And so, though we offer him a most cordial curtsey we must say goodbye to a very worthy loser Mr Darcy (2005).

Thank you for all the excellent propaganda sent in - I will be taking a days break before putting up the Quarter-final polls, giving you until Thursday to send in any propaganda you want included on the main poll posts and me time to add it! But for now we must once again say...

Farewell Gentlemen!

#round three #hotjaneaustenmenpoll #roundup #Jane Austen

162 notes · View notes

companion-of-the-dragonmark · 1 month ago

Text

When Was the First Kingdom of the Wilderwest Built? (HTTYD Books)

Hello, my fellow Dragonmarkers! It's been awhile! As promised, here's the article concerning the plausible timeline of the Kingdom of the Wilderwest. This article was actually a very old one of mine that I had written during this month in 2018. Why didn't I post it on here? Because I wasn't on Tumblr until 2020. And by then, I had forgotten to post this on here. Whoops. Teehee. 😜

When did Hiccup the First end the First Human-Dragon War and built the First Kingdom of the Wilderwest?

Many fans just go with what Wodensfang says in Book 11, supporting the 1000-Year Dynasty mentioned in Book 11 rather than the 500-700-Year Dynasty suggested in Book 9. In fact, it's everywhere in the HTTYD Wiki. I guess it's because fans view Book 11 to be more accurate because it's a later book? I don't know; maybe I'm thinking too hard about this.

But I want to talk through this and thoroughly go through the pros and cons of both sides of the argument and do this right. I'd love to know what you guys think about this.

Anyway, on to the topic!

Possible Contradiction?:

In the First Book — the Book that we're all familiar with — in Chapter 6, Page 68, says that:

"The Dragon (speaking of the Green Death) had crawled down into the depths of the ocean and had gone into a Sleep Coma. Dragons can stay in this suspended state for eternity, half-dead, half-alive, buried under fathom after fathom of icy-cold seawater. Not a muscle of this particular Dragon had moved for six or seven centuries."

Wodensfang's account of Hiccup the First in Book 9 "How to Steal a Dragon's Sword", on Chapter 12, Page 203, seems to probably confirm this when he says: "Five or six centuries ago, when I was young, it was a very dark age, and the dragons and humans were at war."

He goes on further explanation in Page 208 concerning the Green Death: "...Merciless flew to the north, and to the Open Sea. He lived so long a loner that perhaps over the centuries he forgot his youth as leader of a dragon army and became quite an ordinary killer. Rumor was that several hundred years later, he was known only as the Green Death, one of the many monsters that terrorize the Deep Sea."

So you're probably saying, "Great! There it is! There's your answer! It was 600-700 years ago! Problem solved, right?"

Wrong.

In Book 11 "How to Betray a Dragon's Hero", on Chapter 6, Page 98, Wodensfang tells the story of how the Dragonmark came to be, as well as a more detailed history of the Kingdom of the Wilderwest and the story of Grimbeard the Ghastly as a boy, and how he changed the Mark.

He says at the beginning of the story: "Once upon a time, Hiccup, a thousand or so years ago, when I was young and about the size of a Saber-Toothed Driver Dragon, I met your ancestor, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the First, and I gave him the Dragon Jewel and trusted him with the Jewel's Secret."

In Page 100, Wodensfang repeats this by saying: "For over a thousand years, it seemed like I had made the right decision to entrust the Secret of the Dragon Jewel to the humans."

I know right? I'm as confused as you are! Didn't he say in Book 9 that it was "five or six centuries ago"? Maybe even SEVEN centuries ago? Why the change? Did he suddenly get the Dragon equivalent of memory loss due to old age? Does he not know how to count?

Here's the confusing thing: if he was rounding, this might explain it. But the thing is that you can do it with small numbers, but as the number gets bigger, you can't round up in great jumps.

(Warning: Math Ahead!)

For example, say that the number is 8, you round it up to 10 (in certain circumstances) because 8 is closer to 10 than 5. However, if it's 6, then you have to round down to 5 because 6 is closer to 5. The only time that it doesn't is when you're rounding up in percentages (55.678594375 would be 56, for example).

You can't round up to 1000 years from 600, or even 700. That's too high of a jump. Especially when you're telling a historical account. For one thing, it's inaccurate, and for another, it's lazy. And it'll spread lots of confusion.

<><><><><><><><><><>

A Roman Piece to a Nordic Puzzle | The Hint's in the Roman Numerals:

So then, which is it? Was the Kingdom of the Wilderwest built 600-700 years ago or 1000-odd years ago?

First off, allow me to redirect your attention once more to the references concerning the Green Death (also known as Merciless):

The Green Death Takes His Tea by Crownflame on DeviantArt

<><><><><><>

And this one:

". . .Merciless flew to the north, and to the Open Sea. He lived so long a loner that perhaps over the centuries he forgot his youth as leader of a dragon army and became quite an ordinary killer. Rumor was that several hundred years later, he was known only as the Green Death, one of the many monsters that terrorize the Deep Sea."

According to these two quotes concerning the Dragon Merciless, it would appear that the events were about roughly 600 years ago. The problem is that the first quote says he had been in a Sleep Coma for six or seven centuries. I don't know about you, but that doesn't seem like a lot of time to me for him to have forgotten his past and about his nemesis Hiccup. It sounds like in the latter quote, Merciless lived and journeyed alone for a long time — about 100-200 years or more — before he fell into a Sleep Coma.

What might help support this is the mention of what he had eaten in Book 1, Page 129: "He was awake now, and he had coughed up the last thing he had eaten, the Eagle Standard of the Eighth Legion, with its pathetic ribbons still flying bravely."

Now, yes, the HTTYD books are exaggeratory and any historical references are "purely coincidental," and that the Roman Dragonrustlers were about during Hiccup the Third's time (but after Book 3 was said to have fled back to Rome — which is inaccurate because Hiccup's time was during the Viking Age, over 300 years after the fall of the Roman Empire. However, I have a theory that'll explain that in the future).

But what if we DID get historical here? According to history, the only 8th Legion in Roman history was the Legio VIII Augusta, one of the oldest Roman legions in Rome's history (along with the Legio VI Feratta, Legio VII Claudia, and the (in)famous Legio IX Hispana). They were stationed in Gaul (modern France) near the modern-day Strasbourg area (called Argentoratum in Roman times). It was founded in 65 BC by Julius Caesar during the Gaul Wars. It continued service presumedly until either before or until the Fall of Rome (400-500 AD).

Of course, since it continued service until that time period, then it's impossible for the Green Death to have eaten the Legion, right?

As Old Wrinkly used to say: "It's not im-POSSIBLE, only im-PROBABLE. The only thing that limits us are the limits to our imaginations."

So, taking this sagely advice, let's think about this carefully.

According to Roman history, the Eighth Legion was disbanded during the first of Rome's Civil Wars (called Caesar's Civil War and the conflict was between Caesar and Scipio) soon after the Battle and Siege of Thapsus (modern-day Tunisia) in 46 BC for unknown reasons. It was reconstituted in 44 BC by Caesar's adopted son Augustus for Caesar's veterans who had loyally served him and helped him defeat Mark Antony and gain power as Rome's first Emperor.

So basically, there's a two-year gap between the disbandment and the reinstation of the Eighth Legion, which means that Merciless could've easily have eaten the Legion during that time and nobody would've been the wiser, and when Augustus reinstated the Legion two years later, he filled the ranks with other veterans who had served Caesar and Augustus.

What do you think? Plausible?

<><><><><><><><><><>

Possible Connection to Dragon-Aging and Dates in the Book of Dragons:

Now, in Book 1, in the back of the How to Train Your Dragon book that Hiccup reads (similar to the Book of Dragons in the film) in Chapter 4 on Page 53-58, it says that the last stamped due-date was on "16 May 866 AD". The first and second due-dates stamped on there before that were "10 June 789 AD" and "9 April 835 AD".

However, there's no mention of when that book was borrowed, or when it was returned, or the gap between the date and when Gobber the Belch had burgled it from the Meathead "Public" Library. The Hooligans seemed to have had the book for a while. So the current date of the time of Hiccup's first memoir could be anywhere from 866-900 AD — if not later!

Suffering Scallops, it could even be in the 1000s AD!!! In Book 7, Hiccup writes in his epilogue that: "Now I am an old, old man, and the world that I created has no need for dragons. They have retreated from the civilization that I brought, along with the wolves, and the Berserks, and the monsters of my childhood."

In 1015 AD, Berserkers were outlawed, and the practice of "going berserk" as a profession and the rituals involving their cults were forbidden until by the turn of the 12th century, Berserkers had all but disappeared from human history. The end of the Viking Age was considered to be between 1066-1100 AD, so, scallops, Hiccup could very well have lived during this time.

(This could explain the crossbows in the TV series, as they were beginning to show up around this time, as well as Hiccup's quote in the first film: "300 years and I'm the first Viking who wouldn't kill a dragon!")

And, in Book 12, Hiccup also explains in his epilogue that Sea-Dragons like Toothless can live for thousands of years, so maybe 1000-year period might be correct? There's no mention about the other sea dragons, apparently, so I guess they don't live nearly as long?

The problem is the period of growth in the Sea-Dragons. Wodensfang was probably of-age by the time he meets Hiccup the First, and he was "the size of a Saber-Toothed Driver Dragon" then. Then, as the decades and centuries went by and the Kingdom prospered, he grew to be "as large as a mountain". Then he says that hundreds of years ago, he began to "shrink in old age", as Sea-Dragons are small in young and old ages, but in adult stages they're colossal, until he shrunk to the "size of a large Viking hunting dog (probably a Norwegian Elkhound, which lived during this time and was used mainly as a guard and hunting dog)" during the time of Grimbeard the Ghastly. By Hiccup the Third's time a hundred years later, he shrunk to the size of Toothless.

Furious was still considered a baby during Hiccup the Second's time, but grew to be the size of a small elephant. Then 100 years later, he became the size of a mountain, when it doesn't seem that Wodensfang grew that big that quickly (though, to be fair, the Berserks had been feeding him well with human sacrifices for the past 100 years, among other foods, so he probably grew to be that big because of it.) He must've had an early growth spurt. lol 😂

That being said, the reason Furious and Wodensfang have different growing speeds may be likely due to Furious having been fed well since his hatchling days. Whereas it's hinted by Wodensfang himself that he's had a difficult life in his younger days, which is one of the reasons he joins Merciless' rebellion against the Vikings. So the struggle for food could've stunted his growth until he met Hiccup the First later on, at which point he grew faster as more food was available.

Meanwhile, there's Toothless, who's a baby, and has been the size of Wodensfang since the first book, and, according to Hiccup in his epilogue in Book 12, hasn't really grown up at all despite it being 62 years since the events of Book 12 (which if Hiccup was 10-11 when he got Toothless in Book 1, this would make Toothless 65-66 years old by Hiccup's death) and is still able to sleep on his chest.

He must be a late bloomer. lol 😂

Then there's the Green Death — or Merciless — to consider. While he was Furious's size during Hiccup the First's time, and was considered to be a young dragon, then several centuries later, if not more, when he meets Hiccup the Third, he's still the same size! Do Sleep Comas delay aging and growth or something?

So basically we have FOUR Sea-Dragons who grow and age at various speeds! So I don't think we can glean anything from this.

So . . . 1000 years or 600-700 years? Honestly, I seem to get more confused the further I try to explain it! I hope you're having better luck keeping up than I am at the moment! lol 😂

<><><><><><><>

Time For a Little More Math! (cue the groans!):

Okay, I'm going to do a little more math. To be honest, graphs, charts, and basic math is the only math I love. If you don't like it, then skip if you'd like, though you'll miss out on the cool part. 😉🧐

I've done the calculations and I'll do my best with it. If there are any mistakes, please let me know and I'll correct them.

I'll be using current time from 866-1100 AD and then add the date to when the Kingdom of the Wilderwest could've been established in Hiccup the First's time.

I will be using the terms CTP (Current Time Period) and DFP (Dynasty Foundation Period) to avoid confusion.

Whew! Okay! Now that THAT'S done and over with, let's get to the average ages of the Kings of the Wilderwest to further prove (hopefully) which date it might've been.

I've organized it into different sections. Before Hiccup the Third, there were 12 Kings of the Wilderwest. So I'll divide the number of years that the Dynasty could've lasted to the number of Kings to get the average lifespan that each of the Kings have to be in order for this to become plausible.

Now granted, some of these Kings could've died young (20s-30s), or very old, or in their middle-ages (pun not intended). This is the AVERAGE lifespan for each king -- not a literal statistic for each and every King.

Unless, of course, if we were fanciful people, we might've theorized that there's some sort of magic spell in the Dragon Jewel that Wodensfang didn't mention that causes all of the Twelve Kings to die at the same age.

In that case, if true, and if every King DOES INDEED die at the same age, then since Hiccup the Third dies at the age of 75/76, it would've been 900 years since the foundation of the Kingdom of the Wilderwest since every King would've died at the same age that Hiccup had died.

But we're not fanciful people . . . and that would be ridiculous. lol 😜

However, you're probably noticing that there are no 1000 Years among the statistics that I just showed above. That's because I had just remembered that the Kingdom of the Wilderwest collapsed a hundred years before Hiccup the Third's time. Meaning that if the Dynasty and Kingdom lasted for 1000 years, then only 900 years of that has passed as a kingdom.

<><><><><><><><>

Conclusion:

So . . . WHEW! That took a long time to write (5-6 hours, though the time could've been cut in half had I not done the statistics, but then where'd be the fun in that? lol 😜)

I apologize if any of this went over your head or overwhelmed you with informational overload. If it did, then I sympathize because I'm feeling this as well — and I'm WRITING THIS!

So my conclusion is that, basically speaking, regardless of the Kingdom being anywhere from 600-1000 years old, 100 of those years need to be subtracted since the Kingdom fell apart when Grimbeard dissolved it a hundred years prior to the current events of the Second Dragon War. So, realistically, the Kingdom — and the 12 Kings (including Grimbeard) — lasted around 500-900 years, and when Wodensfang tells Hiccup the Third about the history of the Wilderwest, he includes the 100 years into the timeframe when the Kingdom of the Wilderwest was first founded.

So I guess that, in the end, the actual date and timeline will be left up to the fans to headcanon for themselves.

If you could take anything from this, what would it be?

What current timeline do you think Hiccup the Third could be living in during the Viking Age? 900s? 1000s? 1100?

And how many years do you think that the Kingdom of the Wilderwest was established (including the 100-year gap)? 1000 years? 800? 700? 600?

Please share your thoughts! I'd LOVE to hear from you!!! ^_^

Thank you SO MUCH for taking the time to read this and I am looking forward to reading any theories, corrections, suggestions, discussions, answers, and/or questions you may have.

I hope this article finds you well, and I hope you have a splendid weekend!

Long Live the Wilderwest!

— Companion of the Dragonmark

57 notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 4 months ago

Text

Foxx Nolte's "Hidden History of Walt Disney World"

NEXT SATURDAY (July 20), I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.

No one writes about Disney theme parks like Foxx Nolte; no one rises above the trivia and goes beyond the mere sleuthing of historical facts, no one nails the essence of what makes these parks work – and fail.

I first encountered Nolte through her blog, Passport to Dreams Old and New, where her writing transformed the way I viewed the project of these giant, elaborate built environments. It was through articles like this one – about the sightlines from bathrooms! – that I came to truly understand what design criticism means:

https://passport2dreams.blogspot.com/2012/11/the-awkward-transitions-of-disneyland.html

While her work on queue design transformed how I thought about waiting, scarce-goods allocation, and the psychology of anticipation and desire:

https://passport2dreams.blogspot.com/2010/12/third-queue.html

But I really knew her for a kindred spirit when I read her masterful analysis of the historical context and enduring power of the Haunted Mansion:

https://passport2dreams.blogspot.com/2010/05/history-and-haunted-mansion.html

A decade after that Haunted Mansion post, Nolte published the definitive history of the Haunted Mansions, Boundless Realm, the very best book ever written on the subject:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/09/boundless-realm/#fuxxfur

This year, Nolte came back with another short, smart, endlessly fascinating history of Disney World, Hidden History of Walt Disney World:

https://www.arcadiapublishing.com/products/9781467156189

There are many histories of Walt Disney World, but none are quite like this. Nolte – who worked at the park for many years – combines her insider's view with her deep historical knowledge and yields up a "hidden history" that will forever change how I look at the built environment and the natural landscape it sits atop.

The path to Walt Disney World – an entertainment juggernaut that occupies a landmass twice the size of Manhattan – was anything but smooth. Its original design – Walt's design – barely survived groundbreaking, dying with Walt himself. Walt's successor, his brother Roy, used the occasion of Walt's death to assert his long-contested dominance over the park, drastically scaling back Walt's ambition for a bizarre residential/utopian community and replacing it with a kind of deluxe Disneyland with the idea of limiting the company's financial risk by re-creating a pre-existing, sure thing money-maker.

But Roy died within a few years of Walt, and the company transitioned from a family business to a managerial one, its direction set by executives who weren't named "Disney." These managers were just as flawed as the Disney brothers, but in much different ways (one long-serving CEO insisted that Disney should stay out of the hotel business, leaving billions on the table for contractors and third parties.

Of course, all of this is happening in Florida, and many of Nolte's funniest, juciest stories play Walt, then Roy, then various CEOs and execs off of flamboyant locals straight out of a Carl Hiaasen novel. In Nolte's capable hands, the many acres of Disney property come alive with the ghosts of Florida eccentrics and conmen who play against the deeply weird Disney brothers and their baffled corporate successors.

The history of Walt Disney World is also a history of the American narrative from the 1960s to the turn of the millennium, especially once Epcot enters the picture and Disney sets out to market itself as a futuristic mirror to America and the world. There's a doomed plan to lead the nation in the provision of an airport for the largely hypothetical short runway aircraft that never materialized, the Disney company's love-hate affair with Florida's orange growers, and the geopolitics of installing a permanent World's Fair, just as World's Fairs were disappearing from the world stage.

With Disney in disarray, corporate raiders smelled blood, and the company found itself on the brink of leveraged buyout hell, triggering another change in corporate leadership with the arrival of Michael Eisner. Nolte's portrait of Eisner is far more nuanced than the presentation in rival histories, surfacing his many forgotten gaffes – but also giving him credit where it was due. When the dust settles on the Eisner era, Disney has more theme parks in one place than can possibly be justified – in an America where workers get almost no paid vacation days, building more theme parks does not extend visitors' stays. It only adds to the expense of keeping those guests entertained during those brief, flitting visits.

The Disney empire is rooted in contradictions. The Disney brothers cordially loathed one another and the company split into "Walt people" and "Roy people" who schemed against one another in secret and sometimes even erupted into open conflict. There's something Hegelian about the Walt/Roy split: Walt went bust trying to run a creative empire that ignored the financials, and fled the ashes of his first venture to work with Roy in California. Roy disciplined Walt with financial rigor, often to excess. When the company emerged from WWII with its outside shareholders in charge, Roy became their champion and Walt's tormentor, with the ability to exercise a firm veto when he couldn't win the day through moral suasion.

Walt sought escape from his brother, proposing a series of ill-starred ventures that eventually became Disneyland. First, he proposed that he would transform his backyard ride 'em train-set into a public attraction that he would personally oversee, so that he wouldn't have to go to the office and let his brother boss him around. Then he proposed buying a locomotive and fitting out a train of railcars with exhibits promoting Disney movies, which he, personally, would drive around America, far from his brother.

Finally, he hit on Disneyland, poaching the company's best animators for a separate firm that Roy was eventually forced to buy from Walt in order to bring it back into the corporate fold. These power struggles, in which Roy first took orders from Walt, before turning the tables, only to have them turned again, culminated in the uneasy detente that characterized the era from Disneyland's opening to Walt's death.

Working with his brother may have made Walt miserable, but he evidently saw the benefit in this Hegelian dialectic, because he became infamous for putting together creative teams who were forever at each other's throats. The storied Sherman Brothers – Disney's star songwriting team – barely tolerated each other. The titans of early Imagineering were often at odds, and Walt took seemingly sadistic glee in forcing artists who disliked one another to work on joint projects.

In focusing on the conflicts between different corporate managers, outside suppliers, and the gloriously flamboyant weirdos of Florida, Nolte's history of Disney World transcends amusing anaecdotes and tittle-tattle – rather, it illustrates how the creative sparks thrown off by people smashing into each other sometimes created towering blazes of glory that burn to this day.

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/15/disnefried/#dialectics

#pluralistic #disney #walt disney world #secret histories #books #reviews #florida #survivor bias #gift guide #foxxfur #foxx nolte #passport to dreams old and new

117 notes · View notes

kirameliaoustern · 9 months ago

Text

Boston Chris - part two

Summary: After Chris and Y/n broke up she is miserable, she didn’t wanted to face reality, a reality without Chris. When she finally gets better is when Chris slowly starts to realise his mistake… will they make up or leave their romance in the past?

Read to find out

Angst & fluff

Not prof read!

[Part one below]

The day after Thanksgiving

Walking down the stairs after seeing their car gone y/n wanted to break down and cry but weirdly she couldn’t.

She just felt empty.

Chris was so long a part of her life. Going to high school - Chris was there, her parents divorce - Chris was there, finishing school - Chris was there, starting her career - Chris was there, losing friends - Chris was there.

He was the only constant in her life. To what should she hold in to now?

Sitting down with her fluffy blanket around her and the bowl of cereals, she pulls her phone out and goes straight to tiktok.

That was a mistake. Chris edits were everywhere.

There was and edit that said ‚I miss Boston Chris‘ a slideshow with photos of Chris from 2020 to 2022 and photos from 2022 to 2024.

Yeah she missed Boston Chris to.

Her Boston Chris.

Even his fans noticed how he changed, it wasn’t a negative change but a change nonetheless.

That’s just life right? People grow up and change. She just never thought her and Chris would become one of those people, who grow up and grow apart.

Closing tiktok she unfollowed Chris on every platform. If she wanted to move on, she couldn’t stand seeing his face everywhere and how easy it is for him to just go on with life without her while she is barely holding on without him.

She noticed that he hadn’t deleted their pictures yet, she deleted theirs of them on her account.

Chris was her first love she can’t imagine ever loving someone that way again.

She got up back in her bed and stayed there for the next few days, her phone shut off.

4 days after the break up

She turned her phone on for the first time since the day after thanksgiving.

A few of her friends messaged her asking what happened but one message stuck out the most.

Vinnie Hacker: hey are u alright with all those things going on?

Delivered 3 days ago

Vinnie Hacker: hey snoopy let me know that you’re alive, getting worried

Delivered: 1 hours ago

Y/n smiled at that. Her and Vinnie texted a few times after they met at the party in April, not a lot maybe a handful of times.

They met once so she could give him his jacket back and he invited her to eat ice cream because he insisted that this Ice cream shop in LA was the best one in the world.

Y/n couldn’t say no to free ice cream, obviously.

As they were there y/n took 5 scrapes of the so called “snoopy spoon” sort. Y/n said it was the best one and Vinnie laughed at how excited she was for the ice cream so he began to call er snoopy.

It helped y/n to take her mind off things. It was 2 days after Chris and her had this big fight after the party, her last day in LA.

Chris said he didn’t had time to drive her to the airport so she had to ask Vinnie even tho she barely knew him at the time. He was the only other person she knew in LA.

Vinnie saw the faded hand print on y/n’s wrist. He didn’t comment on it and for that she was thankful. After that day Vinnie checked in on her every now and then.

He didn’t had any Intentions behind this. She was his friend and he was simply just worried.

That’s it right?

Y/n: I’m feeling weird but I’ll survive I guess.

Y/n: thanks for asking tho :)

Delivered: now

His messages were different from the others, they all wanted to know WHAT had happened and HOW.

Vinnie just wanted to know HOW she is doing. He didn’t care what everyone else said.

Vinnie Hacker: I’m in Boston next week. Wanna go for a little ice cream snoops?

Vinnie Hacker: it’s one me ;)

Y/n: yeah sure, ring me up when you’re here

Meanwhile

The triplets were back in LA since a few days.

Chris felt weird seeing all the media having an opinions on HIS relationship, well his ex relationship.

It left a bitter taste on his tongue, he didn’t know why.

He felt sad seeing that she deleted all their photos together and unfollowed him as if she was wanted to erase him from her life like he was nothing more than a stranger to her all this time. Like they didn’t had existed.

Chris didn’t wanted to delete their pictures on his account. It was proof that they DID happened. There was a time were they were real.

The boy was happy in these pictures, in those times. He wanted to keep them and reminisce them, appreciate them.

So he didn’t delete them. He didn’t unfollow her. He wanted to keep track on her. Seeing if she would be okay.

She was still important to him.

A week later

It was around 6 pm and Y/n and Vinnie were walking along the beach with their ice cream in hand, the sun is slowly setting, casting an comfortable orange around them.

“You would be fine living like that?” Y/n asked him curiously.

Vinnie just told her that he would like to live in a small house in the mountains and his beloved ones.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” He asked in return looking down at her with a smile on his lips.

“It’s just I would never expect a guy like you to have this as his dream life”

“A guy like me?” He lets out a chuckle “okay what do you thought would it be according to ‘a guy like me’ ?

“Probably living in a big fancy house, partying everyday and living his best life with his friends and hundred of girls” Y/n finishes as she puts a spoon of ice cream into her mouth a smile also gracing her lips.

At that the boy let’s out a loud laugh almost dubling over.

“What” he spits out still trying to calm down

“If you think like that then you have the wrong image of me snoops” he said smiling.

“Okay you know I just thought-“ the girl was cut off as a group of girls around their age startet to surround them and asking Vinod for pictures.

Her smile fell. She knew what was coming. Had all this with Chris.

Flashback

Chris and Y/n were holding hands walking around the mall as girls came up to them and wanted Chris attention.

Chris let go off Y/n’s hands and began to fully concentrate on the beautiful girls.

She didn’t had any issues with Chris interacting with his friends, not at all she just didn’t liked how Chris just put her aside and ignored her as soon as he got attention from someone else.

As if she wasn’t important

It never was like that

It didn’t help that girls looked her up and down as if she wasn’t worth his time

Chris noticed this but acted like he didn’t

“Sorry Baby I just talk with them for a few minutes you can’t wait over there” he apologizes, pushing her away as if he was embarrassed of her

“It’s okay”

She sat down on a bench aside as Chris was swarmed with girls

It also didn’t help that the girls were super skinny and super beautiful.

Y/n wasn’t over weight but it still made her a little insecure.

She sat there for 30 minutes, alone.

This wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last time this would have happened

End of flashback

“Hey can we take a picture?” One of the girls says.

He turns to y/n “is it okay for you?” He asks

“Yeah of course.” She was dreading the wait ahead of her.

“Sure we can” Vinnie said to the girls.

What Y/n didn’t expected was that he included her in the picture and the conversations.

He didn’t wanted her to feel left out.

The interaction only lasted for about five minutes because Vinny cut them off.

“Hey guys so I would really love talking more with you but we kinda have plans so..” he trails off pointing between him and Y/n.

She felt important, she liked that.

A smile began to form on her lips.

After that day Y/n and Vinnie began to spend more time together.

Vinnie started become some what of a best friend to her.

February 2024

“What’s got you in a sour mood?” Nick asked Chris as he had an attitude the whole day and well the last few days.

“Nothing” his brother answered with an annoying voice.

“No nicks right, you’ve been in a mood since days now Chris, what’s up?” Matt chimes in.

“Oh my god it’s nothing guys, get off my back.” Now he really was annoyed at them.

He opens his phone and his brothers saw Y/n instagram story was opened. Chris must have gone through it before they came to him.

He quickly closes instagram and opens tiktok.

But it’s too late now Nick and Matt saw it. In y/n story was a photo posted if Vinnie as they were in Boston in the Ice cream shop.

In the picture Vinnie said in front of y/n with a big smile on his lips as he scraped all the ice cream from the bowl.

The caption was:

he ate all my snoopy ice cream guess he has to buy me twice as much the next time 🤧

Next time

They will met again. This bothered Chris even tho he would never admit it.

Not to mention it was the ice cream shop y/n and Chris used to walk to on late summer evenings back when they were together.

The shop was only a twenty minute walk away from their street and both of them always appreciated the time together. It was one of the few times they were alone.

He noticed they spend a lot of time together after he and Y/n broke things off.

He saw her on his and him on hers story at least three times a week.

He hated it.

His brothers ,of course, saw the story’s too because they also followed them on instagram and instantly knew Chris was in a bad mood because of this.

“It this because of Y/n and Vinnie?” Nick asks slowly with hesitation in his voice.

The brothers knew that Y/n was still as sensitive subject for the boy.

Chris didn’t say anything but shut his of and ran his hands over his face.

“Bro if you want to get over her you have to stop stalking her alright.”

“I still keep track on her because I wanted to make sure that she would be okay not to watch her fall in love with another dude.” Chris says.

“What did you expect? That she would come running after you after you treated her like that?” Nick said.

“I just never imagined her with another guy.” Chris admits in a sad voice.

“After all the shit you pulled I’m surprised she didn’t dumbed your earlier.” Nick scoffs

“Hey it wasn’t that bad alright” Chris said defensively.

“We heard all those screaming Chris.” Matt adds to the conversation.

“I broke things off with her because I saw what it did to her and I couldn’t stand her getting hurt because of me.” Said the boy

“Why did you waited so long if you knew what it did to her?”

“Because I didn’t wanted to lose her. She’s was always there for me I thought I couldn’t live without her. It was selfish but knowing that she was in was still mine gave me security even tho our relationship wasn’t good at those times.” Chris admits.

“And you couldn’t just I don’t know talk to her?” Nick explains sarcastic.

“It wasn’t that easy. There were so many times I wanted to but there was already this… wall between us that I hoped it would just solve themselves.” Chris began.

“These months we barely talked I was scared that when we finally talked, she would tell me she wants to break up with me. I ignored her because I didn’t wanted to face the truth that I was losing her.” He finishes.

“Were you still in with her when you broke up with her?” Matt again.

Silence

“It doesn’t matter she’s clearly doing fine with Vinnie.” Chris said Vinnies name with disgust in his voice.

“Chris do you regret breaking up with Y/n?” Matt asked again.

Silence

Chris stood up from the couch and made his way outside.

“Where are you going?” Nick yells after him.

“Need to clear my head.” Chris response going for a walk.

March 2024

5 months after the break up.

“Wow you finally took down the pictures.” Vinnie commented as he came into Y/n room and saw all her photos with Chris were taken down.

“Yeah it feels like it was time.” She responds.

“I’m glad you did.” He smiled as he flopped down beside her in her bed. “Proud of ya snoops” he finished ruffling her hair.

She lets out a giggle at his actions.

“Sooo what are we doing now?” He asks.

Y/n gives him the look.

Thirty minutes later Vinnie and Y/n both had a cup full of ice cream and were walking back to her house.

“We really need to find something else to snack, I’m gonna gain a lot of weight when we eat Ice cream every time I see you.” Y/n said with a Chuckle leaving her lips.

“You’re gonna be beautiful either way.” Vinnie let out.

Y/n blushed slightly. It has been so long since someone had called her beautiful. It didn’t just came from anyone, it came from Vinnie Hacker.

“Ice cream is our thing y/n. We can’t change that.” Vinnie jokes as he bumbs his shoulder with hers.

“When you say so I guess I can’t do anything about it.” The girl plays along while rolling her eyes.

Vinnie chuckles as that.

They chatted for a while til they got to her house.

“You know I’ll always enjoy our ice cream stops.” Y/n said friendly.

“I’ll enjoy spending my time with you no matter what we’re doing. But I’ll admit it’s cute how you always got ice cream on your nose while you lick your cup clean.” The boys responds.

Y/n gets a warm feeling inside her at his words.

“I have Ice cream in my nose?!” She exclaims.

“Yeah.” He whispers as he watches her trying to rub the ice cream off of her nose with a smile on his lips.

She doesn’t notice the way he looks at her.

“Is it gone?” She asks looking up at him. She notices now how tall he is in comparison to her.

“Almost.” He says quietly while walking closer to her.

She notices how close he is as he’s lifting his hand to hold her cheek while taking his pointer finger to wipe the ice cream away.

He’s still holding her cheek as takes his finger in his mouth to lick the ice cream away.

“No it’s gone.” He whispers looking deep into her eyes.

His smile slowly falls as he begins to lean closer to her.

She also leans in and closes her eyes.

She feels her lips touch his and it feels different.

As he begins to move his lips against hers she starts to move hers to.

It feels so good to know someone wants to kiss her so much she feels it in his body language.

She steps closer, her hands move from his waist ob his stomach, over his chest and cups his cheeks. All while never parting her lips from his.

His arms move to grip her hips and pull her closer to him.

His lips are soft, softer than Chris’s. Chris lips were soft but always a little chapped not like - wait

Why is she thinking about Chris now?

She hasn’t thought about Chris in so long. Of his lips in so long.

It’s the first time she is kissing someone other than Chris.

Chris was her first kiss. Her first everything.

Now he isn’t the only boy she has kissed.

She realizes her lips have stopped moving a few second ago.

Probably as she realizes she was thinking of Chris.

Vinnie begans to pull away as he notices her lips won’t start moving again.

So they just stand there now looking at each other.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Vinnie apologizes quickly as panic begins to set in thinking he has done something wrong and ruined his chances with her.

“No no please you didn’t.” She pull his arms back around her. “I was just in my head for a moment.” She admits.

“If you’re not ready and still need time to -“ he starts but she cut him off. “No Vinnie, I enjoyed this really. It’s just you’re the first boy since.. you know. But I want to do this with you. I think I’m ready now.”

“Yeah?” He asks shyly.

“Yeah.” She reassures.

“Good cause I really like you.” He admits letting out a little breathless laugh.

She smiles up at him and pecks his lips.

“Good night Vinnie.”

“Night snoops”

April 2024

6 months after the break up.

The triplets arrived at their hotel an hour ago.

They were guests at the Ellen show today but Chris seems down.

Nick and Madi were out to get Starbucks across the street so Matt took the opportunity to talk with Chris.

“Hey man what’s up?” The boy begins as he sat down beside his brother.

Chris just looks at him and shakes his head. He knew what he was going to say.

“Save it matt”

“Talk to me”

“No”

“Why not, I could help you.”

Silence

“Chris come on.”

“…. I just uhm… lately I’ve been thinking about y/n… a lot”

“Okay and what about it?”

“I just wish.. really wish that I could call her right now and tell her all of this to hear her reaction.” He lets out a chuckle as he remembers all the time she was more excited than him about his news.

“She was the type of person who was more happy about your accomplishments than you. That was one of the many reasons I loved her.” He smiles at their memory of her as he tells Matt all of this.

“She was the first person I wanted to tell or see when I had good news. Wether it was a win at lacrosse practise, a good grade a new song I learned at the guitar as I was still playing.” He stops and his smile falls. “ I don’t have that anymore. I can’t just call her and tell her this but I want to so… ugh… so god damn bad.”

“I miss talking to her.” Chris continues. “She understood me. It becomes clear now how much I need this, her, y/n”

“There are so many things I want to tell her, tell her that we made it that the things we dreamed of became true. Did you know there was this one time in summer we were walking home this ice cream shop and jokes about us being on the Ellen show? And today we just were and I can’t share that with her.” He finishes.

Matt stays silent for a bit. He knew how much his brother has loved that girl.

“Chris.. uhm I don’t know how to tell you this but when you broke things off with y/n I knew you would regret that. I mean yeah we were suddenly known that you probably thought you wanted more but in the end you only ever wanted her u just lost focus on it for a while.” Matt said.

“And what do I do now?” He asks his brother, looking up at him with tears in his eyes.

“I don’t know.”

“Fantastic” Chris lets out a sarcastic laugh.

“Look were back home in Boston next month how about you just try to apologize?” Matt tries.

“After half a year?”

“Better late than never.” Matt puts a hand on his shoulder and gives him a smile that Chris returns.

He will try.

May 2024

“Vinnie stop” y/n is laughing really hard as he tickles her.

“No, say it.” He smiles down at her.

“Never” she says between laughs.

“You wanted it this way.”

He starts tickling her side now.

“Alright alright I’ll eat it. You’re better at valorant than me.”

Vinnie stops tickling her, turns her around in the bed and hovers above her.

“See it wasn’t that hard.” He says with as teasing smile as he looks down at her.

“Mhm” y/n lets out, pulling at his necklace that dingles in front of her face.

Vinnie gets the hint and leans his head down to capture her lips with his.

Their tongues melt and y/n starts to smile as she feels his hand at her sides again m.

As Vinnie feels her smile against his lips he can’t help it but smile to.

He pull away and start to nuzzle his nose against hers.

“You’re smell so good” he sighs against her.

Vinnie knew he was deeply in love with her. Hell he probably fell in love with her after their talk that night at the party.

He just hopes she feels the same. Sometimes he worries she might just is with him as a distraction from Chris.

Last week he asked to be her boyfriend and she agrees. He really hopes she means this serious as it’s serious to him.

A little while later they are ready to go out on a date. He will took her to this new fancy restaurant at the end of the city.

Amelia’s

As y/n put her jacket on Vinnie came down the stairs.

“Are you ready beautiful” he says leaning down to kiss her neck as he opens the door.

“I’m am my handsome boyfriend.” He chuckles at that, leaning down to kiss her as he walks backwards out the door, lips still locked with hers, pulling her with him by her jacket.

As they were outside he finally pulls away. She smiles up at him as he lets go of her and opens his car door for her.

Right as she was about to go in she meets a pair of blue eyes. The blue eyes that she would recognize anywhere.

Even tho everything about him has changed, he got a new a hair cut a new style his eyes a still the same ones she fell in love with so long ago.

Chris stand there with an devastating look on his face. He looks like he’s about to cry.

The triplets just got out of the car. They come probably from the airport to visit their family.

Great timing y/n thought.

“Y/n” Vinnie says pulling her out of her staring/ trance contest with Chris.

She turns around and looks at him.

She gets in the car and Vinnie closes her door.

She didn’t see the lion Vinnie and Chris gave each other as Vinnie gets in the driver side and drives off towards the restaurant.

Y/n tries not to think about Chris and enjoys her time with Vinnie but Chris is still in the back of her mind.

3 hours later

Vinnie stops his car in front of y/n house and turns his head towards her.

“I had fun today” he says.

“Me too.” She responds and she means it.

He leans in and kisses her passionately.

As he pulls away they look deep in each other eyes.

“I love you” Vinnie says suddenly.

This is the first time either of them has said the L word.

Y/n’s eyes widen.

“You don’t have to say it back I just wanted you to know it.” Vinnie says quickly in a soft voice.

Y/n kisses him again, gives him a smile and gets out of the car.

“Good night Vinnie” she says

“Dream of me snoopy.” He says with a smile.

“Always.” Her smile is so big.

She watches his car drive off and as she can’t see it anymore she turns around and starts walking towards her front door.

“You’re moved on.” Her smiles drops as she hears his voice.

The voice she hadn’t heard in six months.

The girls stand still. She doesn’t want to turn around and face him.

“I knew you would be okay.” He continues as he steps closer now crossing the road.

“Did you?” Y/n asks still not turning around.

“Of course I did. I always knew you deserved better than what I gave you. That’s why I let you go.”

“Stop it.” Her was is calm and soft. No anger. She was never the type to hold grudges against people. She turns around. “I never wanted you let me go.”

“I had too. I saw what I did to you.”

“When you knew what you did to me all those months why didn’t you stop? Why didn’t you talked to me?” She isn’t mad just curious.

“I don’t know.” She closes her eyes at his answer. “But I know that I regret everyday how I treated you. And I know that I’m so incredibly sorry.” She turns around and starts making her way to her door. She knows this isn’t nice but she couldn’t hear him talking anymore.

But he wasn’t finished. “And most importantly I know that I miss you more than anything.” She stops again and turns around to face him as she hears how desperate his voice has gotten.

“I miss taking to you, I muss telling you what’s going on in my life and I miss hearing what’s going on in yours. I muss hearing your laugh and kissing you, holding and.. and,” he stops for a short moment to take in a deep breath and calm his nerves. “ I miss being with you y/n.” He finishes his speech.

Y/n stays silent as they both just look at each other in the dark night.

The only lights are the moon and the street lamps a little away.

They never thought they would find themselves in this situation.

“Do you miss me?” He asks stepping closer to her.

“Chris..” she turns her head away

“Answer me please.” He sounds so desperate as he grabs her hand.

“Don’t you remember us? How good we were? Why are you wasting you’re time with him?”

She pulls away suddenly as she hears his words.

What they were.

The were he was talking about didn’t exist anymore and it never could. They were different people now.

She remembers all the times she felt not important to him. She never felt that way with Vinnie. And hearing how he talked about him made her angry for the first time that night.

Vinnie was the person who was there for her after he left.

He helped her repairing the things he broke.

If anything she was wasting her time waiting for him to show her love again.

“The us youre talking about does not exist anymore.” She said calmy looking into his eyes. “And my time with Vinnie is anything but a waste.” She turns around, for the last time she hopes.

“Are you happy with him?” Chris got mad. He was and at himself that he had let her go and he couldn’t unmake that mistake now.

“Yes.” She says.

“Do you love him?”

“Yes”

That broke him. She loved someone.. that wasn’t him.

He wanted to break down and cry, beg on his knees for her forgiveness.

“Wonder how longer that lasts.” Instead he only made it worse.

“What.” She turns around.

“I mean you see how it was with us. What made you think it will be any different with him? He’s also an influencer”

“He isn’t you.”

That shut him up

“He makes time for me, he doesn’t makes me feel useless, he won’t leave me.”

“Yeah alright” he lets out a sarcastic laugh. “ I see you when you’re come clawing back to me after he leaves you.”

“Fuck you Chris.” She finally tunes around and gets inside her.

As she slams the door shut she leans against it and slides down.

She starts so cry again. Again because of Chris.

The next morning

Y/n woke up to a headache.

She felt like shit, she honestly just wanted Vinnie.

Ding dong

Could Vinnie read her mind?

She made her way downstairs to open the door.

On the other side of the door was the last person she wanted to see.

Chris.

She bag an to close the door again.

“Wait” he calls out. “ I wanted to say sorry.”

“I have this feeling we were at this point before.” She responds.

“I wanted to say sorry for last night.”

She opens her door again.

“Come in”

“I over stepped. I should have never commented on your relationship with Vinnie.” It was hard for him to say what he’s about to say but it’s for y/n so he would do it. Because he would do anything for her.

“I’m happy if you’re happy. I really wanted to apologize last night but as I saw you with him.. y/n I just lost it. I never thought I would see you with another man.”

“It’s okay Chris” she tries.

“No it’s not. I admit I regret breaking up with you. But that was my mistake. I can’t blame you or him for that only myself. I mean I understand why he likes you.” Chris chuckles.

“You’re an amazing girl y/n i’m sorry if I ever made you feel like your weren’t.” She could see the honesty in his eyes.”if I’m completely honest I had hope that after our visit, we both Cousy start over -“

“Chris-“ she tries to cut him off.

“No let me finish. As I saw how he looks at you and how you look at him I knew that was it. I really wished we had a different ending. I mean for a very long time I thought I was going to marry you.” Letting out a soft laugh.

It was silent for a few seconds.

“I want to remember us as something I was happy about. I don’t want this us, the memory of us to be ruined. I want to remember the innocent us, the one who dreamed of the future and our biggest worriers were if we’re gonna have a ride to the arcade.” She said

They bitch chuckled at that.

“Chris I want to remember you as the boy I fell in love with in Highschool who would do everything to make sure I was happy. Not as someone who couldn’t care less if he saw me or no” the girl finishes.

“Y/n-“

“I know you didn’t mean too and I’m proud of everything you guys accomplished.”

“We were each others first loves. Let’s leave it at that.” She sends him a smile which he returns.

By now they were standing outside again.

“You will always mean something to me and you will always have a special place in my heart” he said to her

“You will always have a special place in my heart too.” She wispers in his ear as they hug each other.

As they pull sways she finishes with.”and you will always mean something to me too.”

After that Chris turns around and heads to his home.

“Say hi to Matt and Nick for me.” She yelled after him.

“Will do!”

As she turns back she sees Vinnie standing by her door. With flowers in his hands.

“You will always mean something to me?” Vinnie repeats her words as jealousy is written over his face.

“Vinnie let me-“ she starts

“Is this the reason you didn’t said that you love me back? Because of him?” He upset but more so sad.

“No Vinnie listen to me.”

He scoffs and gets in his car

She follows him and gets in the driver side.

“No stop, you listen to me now.” She said snatching the keys from his hands. “Me and Chris, we were together for over four years of course he still means something to me, he’ll probably always will have speical place in my heart but he is not the person I want to be with for the rest of my life anymore, thats you Vinnie. Because I love you.” The girl told him.

“Really”

“Yeah”

He leans over, cups her cheek and kisses her deep.

They both smile as he repeats “I love you, I love you, I love you.” Over and over again as he kisses over her cheek, nose, eyes, chin, neck. Everywhere he can reach.

“Say it again.” He says

“I love you”

“Again”

“I love you Vinnie”

Thanksgiving 2024

This year Vinnie celebrated thanksgiving with the y/l/n and the Sturniolo’s. It was great that they were all together again.

The triplets told them about their upcoming tour and new 8 million merch they’re about to drop.

Y/n and Vinnie told about how they going to move in together in London.

Who would have thought that a year ago?

As y/n and Chris sat opposite each other and smiled at one another they knew, they were always going to be alright and they would be beside each other when they would need the other.

I guess who ever said ‘it all works out in the end’ was right.

But he could have warned us about the hard way there…

A/n: heyyy loves I hope you guys enjoyed part two and are okay with who became endgame. I was thinking about making Chris and y/n endgame but I really liked the relationship with Vinnie.

Okay and maybe I have a slight crush on Vinnie at the moment.

Anyways let me know if you liked this part and want me to write more fics about different celebrities.

Also sorry again for spelling mistakes like I said English isn’t my first language.

Til next time, xoxo

#vinnie hacker x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo

186 notes · View notes