#oh yeah real brain rot days

[typosandtea]

Vertibirds. 🚁⚙️🗡️🪽

So every wastelander and his dog know that the fallout 4 vertibirds crash more than settlements need help. But why is that? Here's my 2 caps on the matter. (Or: Bethesda doesn't understand aviation very well I think)

( So uh this is way longer than I expected, I was possessed🚁☢️:] )

TLDR: Horrific conditions for aviation, the difficulties of wasteland heavy maintenance, inexperienced pilots AND mechanics, and the WORST damn instrument layout I’ve ever seen

The Vertibird is designed as a fictional tilt rotor VTOL/STOL(Vertical/Short Take Off and Landing) aircraft which makes a ton of sense in the wasteland where suitable runways are rarer than hens teeth. One of Bethesda's primary visual design influences for the vertibird I suspect is the bell boeing v-22 Osprey.

This funky creature \/

This photo is from the Wikipedia page >Here< [ID: a photo of a v22 osprey aircraft in flight as seen from below and to the right, the aircraft is a medium tilt rotor aircraft with very large propellers, the aircraft is current in vertical take off or landing with the engines pointed straight up. The landing gear is extended, the aircraft is painted in air-force grey with the faint decal “marines” and the American army star on horizontal stripes and the squadron and registration barley visible on the empennage. The cargo and forward doors are open and a soldier is hanging out the front. End ID]

Now the Osprey has a bit of a reputation among people I’ve met who’ve flown in them, I've personally been told things like "if it's not leaking hydraulic fluid, that means you're out of fluid" and "its terrifying to fly in".

My screenshot. [ID: A screenshot of a fallout 4 vertibird, seen from front left in flight over bushland. the Player is manning the minigun and Paladin Danse is a Passenger. End ID]

Looking at the Vertibirds themselves we can make a few assumptions here.

The shape of the cowling and the noise they make indicates that the engines are some form of turboprop engine, likely requiring liquid fuel akin to Avtur(Aviation turbine fuel). Confirmed by the Instruments visible in the cockpit.

The most weight efficient way to move big parts is hydraulics so, they likely have complex hydraulic systems for wing positioning / AOA(Angle Of Attack) / engine angle. Likely also for landing gear since they have retractable gear in fallout 4.

That the BoS has modified them from the original design at least partially, allowing attachment to the Prydwen, likely other modifications too.

I strongly suspect that they have an APU(Auxiliary Power Unit) in the aft fuselage / empennage somewhere, since they have a massive air intake scoop on the top fuselage, they can self start their primary engines which either requires a ridiculous amount of electricity / amps or a source of bleed air. Bleed air is the most likely candidate for self start and is reasonably common on real turbine aircraft, APUs also allows for ground power without having primary engines running. Also confirmed by the instruments in the cockpit.

All of these points are well and good and common in aviation, even modifications (ie. STOL kits, survey aircraft, agricultural mods, skiis, ect). But modern aviation has some advantages that the BoS doesn't have: access to new off the shelf parts, proper verified documentation, proper test processes & facilities, and experienced personnel.

Don't get me wrong, I think Proctor Ingram is awesome, very knowledgeable and practically a miracle worker (especially with that one terminal entry about an engine failure field recovery she pulls off!!), but one chief engineer cannot maintain an entire fleet AND the Prydwen, she comments on how things are breaking often on the ship that she is very busy! Training of new engineers takes *years* to even get to basic level! Ingram can’t train anyone she is too busy keeping everyone in the air 24/7! So who is training all of these scribes? There must be a huge amount of time teaching and supervising even simple tasks! Even at their best the BoS wouldn’t be able to hope to be near the prewar standards of training! Even Ingram or other senior scribes would not be thaaaaat experienced, 10 years is not a long time to completely learn a new aircraft and implement systems & processes of maintenance. The point here is that there are inexperienced scribes maintaining these aircraft.

WOLRDS BEST CHEIF ENGINEER ❤️ \/

My Screenshot. [ID: A screenshot of proctor Ingram from fallout 4, she is standing in the Liberty prime control area. She is smiling. She is wearing her usual modified power armour frame. Preston is visible in the background with a clipboard and pen, he is wearing woody’s outfit from toy story. End ID]

Heavy maintenance in the wasteland, especially in an active combat zone would be an absolute nightmare, are the poor scribes doing overhauls on the flight deck?? Not really possible, so the BoS must have a ground facility at the airport somewhere. Also side note where is the rest of Boston airport? There is more to an airport than a terminal and 1 runway, where are all the hangars?? Likely underwater but still, no ruins??

Back to maintenance, aircraft need a huge amount of care, way way way more than cars do. light civilian aircraft IRL need a full inspection every 100 hours of flight time, which adds up incredibly quickly! For example if you have a one hour commute twice a day that’s MR(Maintenance Release) hours reached in 50 days! You legally cannot fly out of hours. And a service for small aircraft takes about 3 personnel / 2 days and that’s without any major repairs or ADs (Airworthiness Directives) to address! $$$$! Aircraft operating in adverse conditions also need additional maintenance, and coastal areas like Boston, are considered adverse conditions since the salt air corrodes aluminum and steel like nothing else! Corrosion untreated will damage your aircraft and if left too long can destroy the structural integrity of aluminum parts. The spars of aircraft are aluminum often!

My photo. [ID: The inside of a Cessna 172 wing trailing edge is shown looking inboard at the aft root rib, which is primer green, it is backlit by torchlight, the fuselage and a orange scat hose are visible behind it, it has 3 irregular shaped holes in it, 2 are by design but the third medium sized hole in the center of the image is eaten away by corrosion. End ID]

Vertibirds, between being shot at constantly and having a complex deign with a lot of precision moving parts will need a lot of repairs; moving parts means lots of upkeep, grease and inspections! The BoS by 2287 must have some sort of manufacturing back in capital, they cannot still be using old parts from the enclave after 10 years of maintenance, that’s a lot of grease, paint and hydraulic fluid!!!

The BoS must also have a refinery of some kind because Avtur is a refined fuel with some important additives like biocide. Manufacture and storage of fuel is very important since fuel contamination will bring down an aircraft! (and has multiple times IRL! :[ ). Water, microbes, and algae are real dangers to engines, with free water being the most common. Poorly sealed tanks or improper fuel storage combined with a incomplete or missed pre-flight inspection can lead to fuel starvation, since water is heavier than fuel and tank outlets are at the bottom of the tank. If you loose an engine on a twin, may God help you.

This image is from Concordia Bioscience >Here< [ID: A photo of a sample of pale yellow Jet fuel in a clear container, the sample is contaminated with water and microbes and has separated into layers with water at the bottom, then microorganisms, and then Fuel at the top, the image is labeled as such. End ID]

Getting to the most likely crash reasons now (finally), In my opinion that is inexperienced pilots and; a horrific instrument layout.

While there must be some lancers in the BoS that have been flying for the whole 10 years that they’ve had Vertibirds, I think that is likely the exception not the rule, even if they crashed a fraction of the time that do in game that’s still A LOT of downed aircraft!

Experience is only gained in practice, and unfortunately for the BoS they are (self-declared) at war so resources are thin and safe zones are thinner. I suspect that there are a lot of very inexperienced pilots without the time for the experienced pilots to really teach.

Linking to my final point, experience on an airframe itself is also important, you want to be familiar with your aircraft, even among a group of the same model aircraft they will each have quirks, like slightly different instrument layouts, slightly different handling/feel i.e. "this one flies heavier / slower" (at least that's my experience with smaller civilian aircraft) I imagine that the apocalypse did nothing for improving manufacturing tolerances!

FINAL AND MOST DAMNING POINT:

Experience can only help lancers so much when veritibirds have such a strange instrument panel layout:

My screenshot. [ID: a screenshot of a instrument panel from a Fallout 4 vertibird. it is slanted on a approximately 30 degree angle. End ID]

A bit weird looking yeah? For reference Pilot is left seat and copilot is always right seat, this applies globally even in right hand drive countries.

lets take a closer look:

My Screenshots. [IDs: Three screenshots of the same Instrument panel as above, but zoomed in using a sniper rifle scope to get a better look. The first screen shot is the pilots side, the second the center, and the third the copilots side. End ID]

All righty! So reading from top to bottom, then left to right we have:

On the pilots side: A Rotor%RPM gauge, a VOR(Very high frequency Omni-directional Range) indicator, a DG(Directional Gyro), a HSI(Horizontal Situation Indicator), and then a huge AI(Attitude Indicator),

In the center section we have: presumably light clusters (likely master warnings & cautions, gear indicators, and other status lights), a second VOR gauge, likely magnetic compass as they are usually top centre (though I can’t see it being at all accurate with all of the steel around!), the engine instruments cluster, and the APU status / control panel at the bottom. unsure of what the 3 clusters of horizontal buttons are suppose to be other than input of some kind?

In the Engine cluster: Torque%, XMSN(transmission) oil temp / pressure dual gauge, a gas producer % RPM gauge with small integrated single percent dial (like having a seconds dial on your watch for accuracy) meaning the engines have free turbines (compressor not attached to the power turbine), a dual load / fuel psi gauge, a dual engine oil pressure and temperature gauge, fuel quantity in pounds, a turbine output temperature gauge (the hottest part of your engine), and a clock.

On the copilots side: a second Rotor%RPM dual gauge, a third VOR indicator, Airspeed in Knots and MPH, a RMI(Radio Magnetic Indicator) which uses VOR and ADF(Automatic Direction Finder) on compass, a second DG, a second HSI, and a teeny tiny altimeter right in the outboard corner.

the 4 instruments on the lower copilots panel are completely unlabeled

some things of note that are from game limitations:

most of the engine instruments don't have needles at all

the DGs and the RMI use the same background asset, resulting in the DG wrongly having 'VOR' and 'ASI' on its face, DGs are self contained air driven instruments that work on gyroscopic precession, not any outside data input.

all of the instruments with a compass face all say north despite this vertibird not quite facing north.

the AI is showing wings level despite this vertibird being crashed and on a ~30 degree angle

there are not engine controls at all not even flat assets, only flight controls.

There are a lot of instruments here and most of them are reasonably OK read individually, BUT there at least 1 key instrument missing and the layout outs emphasis on completely the wrong things:

WHERE IS THE VERTICAL SPEED INDICATOR(VSI)????? That's a pretty important gauge in a VERTICAL take off / landing aircraft!!!!!!!!!! It's one of the basic six pack!!! how was it omitted??? Speaking of the six pack why is there only one ASI and Altimeter?? and why are they tiny and ON THE COPILOTS SIDE ONLY???? the altimeter is LITERALLY the furthest instrument from the pilot in a vertibird, it should be right in front of the pilot!!! the easy to miss altimeter would make IFR(Instrument Flight Rules) flying incredibly dangerous! Also why are there four VOR based navigational instruments? VOR IS GROUND BASED NAVIGATION!!! unless the BoS has rebooted the multiple ground beacons for them to navigate from that's THREE dead instruments taking up space on the panel! the RMI is slightly more useful as ADF can tune to commercial radio frequencies, though these would need to be strong!

These poor inexperienced lancers are having to look all over the whole unnecessarily crowded cockpit for basic information that should be right in front of them, causing reaction delays and possible confusion. That delay could be the difference between whether or not they are flying home today.

-> Bethesda doesn't understand what half the instruments do and while they did a good job with most of the assets, in their quest to make it retro-future / visibly different from actual aircraft, they have completely destroyed any use of logic in the layout.

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Thanks for reading! Here’s a video of me yeeting Danse with the ‘Get out of my face mod’ as compensation haha

My Video. [ID: a video capture from fallout 4 in first person. It is night and is at oberland station facing the water treatment plant. The player is wearing power armour and the HUD is visible. The player is very close to Paladin Danse, he turns away from them and they shove him with the voice line “stay out of my way”. Danse flys a long way away while rag-dolling. The Gamer’s laughter can be heard while Danse is flying. The player follows Danse’s fall with the crosshairs. The player then walks backwards. End ID]

[indecisive-dizzy]

Do you have any more Eddie dear headcanons you wanna share?

Im sorry for being annoying about him, I don’t get to talk about welcome home a lot so when I do I get really excited :>

No you're so good! I will always take the opportunity to talk about my favorite goober :D

First, Eddie sews! Can't remember how canon this is, I could be tricking myself haha. But I think Eddie has so many little hobbies and sewing is one of them!

He makes all sorts of things: New ties, shirts, dresses, etc! For himself and for his friends!

He and Poppy make sweaters and scarves for everyone together during winter :)

I also like to think he's made Frank a bowtie and/or vest as a gift,, sigh what a loving husband

Speaking of Frank, Eddie uses so many pet names for his husband. Darling, love, sweetie/sweetheart, sugar, puddin', bug, honey/hun, pumpkin. just so many southern petnames

Another hobby of his is obviously crafts, but he really likes origami! It's fun/relaxing and keeps his hands busy when things are slow. Also he can make gifts! A win win!

cough is also helps with his fine motor skills, hand eye coordination struggle is real cough

This man is so autistic adhd to me. His forgetfulness and clumsiness is all part of it. As someone with audhd I can't walk anywhere without getting a bruise from running into things lol. So I'm projecting a bit haha

Mail is his hyperfixation. Eddie can tell you everything and anything about mail/postal history, including stamps. Point to a stamp in his collection he can tell you the year it was made, where, and who. Plus anything else he may know about it.

He loves thriller novels and dramas. And sappy romance novels. He's probably read Frankenstein and Dracula a bunch of times. And he would absolutely read Twilight. Dunno if he'd like it, but he would read it lol

my gen z youth is showing,, idk when vhs was the most common/around but Eddie would have a vhs collection. He'd have the og Frankenstein on vhs and would treasure it. Again, my time is off so just pretend

Also if it's not obvious, Frankenstein is his favorite classic monster story. He feels for the Monster bc Eddie thinks he's so misunderstood. Honestly he probably relates a bit. Also makes a banger costume lol

Eddie would do drag more if he had the time, I think. (Also if the times were more accepting cough-) He likes to feel pretty!

cough I have so many he/she Eddie thoughts but that's another post for another day

Very uncomfortable around bugs/insects but has come to terms with butterflies after spending so much time with Frank.

Similar note, Eddie would never hurt a bug (on purpose) he just calls Frank to safely relocate it. He may not like them, but he meant it when he said he'd never hurt a fly!

Oh I could keep going but I fear I'll dive into au territory lol. I have a habit of updating technology/times/etc with fandoms that take place before the 2000s yikes

[dreamsteddie]

Companion piece to my Stobin childhood friends au post because try as I might to resist it, the Steddie brain rot will take over.

Robin and Steve are thick as thieves from that first day of preschool onwards. Their matching friendship bracelets don't fit anymore but have found homes in their "secret friendship treasure chest" which is a shoe box covered in construction paper decorations that lives under Robin's bed so Steve's parents don't throw away any of his "trash" again. They've started a tradition of making a new one for each other at the start of every year so everyone remembers they're best friends, though.

Halfway through first grade (Robin got to start school a year early like the Buckleys hoped) things are going great for Robin. She gets to bring books home from the library and their teacher complimented her drawing of a robin and she helped Steve pass his spelling test last week, so as far as she's concerned this is the best year ever.

Right up until Eddie Munson transfers to their school.

At first, Robin doesn't know that Eddie will be her arch-nemesis. When he's introduced to the class, all she really thinks about him is that he looks a little funny but seems nice. He's got really big eyes and he's taller than most of the other kids with long, gangly limbs. His hair is shaved down to his head, but there are other boys in class who have the same cut. He gets placed at the table group to the left of them in the chair closest to Steve's.

She very quickly forgets about him as the day continues as normal. Robin thinks math block is boring, she'd much rather read her books or play with Steve at recess but her parents said knowing your shapes is important, so she pays extra special attention. That's why she doesn't catch the little wave Steve, ever the social butterfly, gives to the boy across the way or the way Eddie's eyes go even bigger and a soft blush steals across his cheeks.

What she does notice is when Eddie comes up to them in the last few precious minutes of recess slightly sweaty and out of breath holding a little white daisy.

"Hi! I'm Eddie, I'm new!" he says, shouts really, looking directly at Steve.

"Oh, hi Eddie! I'm Steve, this is my bestest friend, Robin." Steve replies.

"Like the bird?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah! They're orange."

"And I hate orange!" Robin buts in, not willing to be left out of the conversation

"Yeah, it's really sad. They should be blue, that's Robin's favorite color." Steve says, real disappointment creeping into his voice. "Who's that for?" he asks, pointing to the forgotten daisy.

"Oh! It's for you! I was out all recess looking for the best one in the field. They kind of match your shirt!' Eddie says proudly, referencing Steve's polo with the yellow body and white sleeves. It's one of his favorites.

"Really? That's so nice, thank you!" Steve exclaims as he takes the little flower into his hands.

Robin's mom says that sometimes when you want to be someone's friend, it's good to start by giving them something nice. Robin's mom says that she should try and make more friends, maybe some girls instead of just Steve, but when Robin tries to talk to the other girls in class, she gets nervous and clams up. She thinks she might be allergic to them. Plus, why would she need more friends when she has Steve, who is worth at least three normal friends.

Steve gets along with everyone, he lends people erasers and pencils and shares his blocks with the other kids when he's allowed to bring them out of his cubby, but no one is his best friend like Robin is.

No one has ever given Steve flowers before, though. That feels like an extra special kind of gift that someone would give if they wanted to be really good friends, and Robin doesn't want that. Steve is her best friend, he doesn't need another one.

"Steve, we gotta go get in line before all the other kids! We don't want to be last!" she blurts out, grabbing Steve by the hand and dragging him across the asphalt to where the teachers are getting ready to call everyone to get in line before Eddie can catch up.

Once they've got their places, she looks back at Steve behind her to see he's turned around. She peaks her head around him and sees him smiling wide at an equally smiley Eddie who's about 5 kids behind them, each of them waving happily at each other.

Oh yeah, Robin is going to have to keep an eye on him.

[rainynightmoonlight]

GXHDJSJSJS I JUST READ YOUR FIC ABOUT THE MERMAN CUTIE AND OMG I LOVE LOVE LOVE RANEE (I THINK THAT"S HOW YOU SPELL THAT) HE'S JUST PERFECT😭😭😭

ANYWAYSSS, so i was thinking... what he do if reader suddenly stopped coming to kayak, because they got sick? How would he react when they finally started coming back again?

Love your works btw😉💋💖💖

Where's my Human? || Yandere Merman x Gn Kayaker Reader

Characters: Ranee

Summary: He gets so worried when you're not there to kayak

Warnings: Yandere themes, possessiveness, violence, stalking

A/n: Yeah that's how you spell it, I'm so happy you love him nonnie! He's my special merboy! And thank you! Also, mention of Malakai

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Let's be real, Ranee has no concept of sickness or injuries. Fin rot is the closest thing he knows, and it's only common within pet fish. There are parasites and other ocean germs, but nothing like human sickness. So if you stop showing up for a while brings up so much concern. He straight up thinks you're dead. Though it takes a bit of build up for him to actually think of that conclusion.

The first day you don't show up to the beach, he just thinks you got busy. You usually don't come to kayak every day. That's something you told him when he freaked out the first time you didn't show up. Something about sore muscles. He was too focused on you when you told him so he didn't listen.

The second day is when he becomes a bit panicked. This is the stage where he starts swimming the coastline and asking other sea creatures that swim the coast about you. When they say they haven't seen you that's when his brain starts to spiral. Ranee just swims up and down the coastline for the next couple of days, watching the beaches for any sign of you in case you moved and forgot to tell him.

Then a thought comes to his mind, much to his distaste. Ranee thought and contemplated on visiting your human friend. One reason he was against it was because your human friend was trying to take you away from him. Didn't this human know that you were his mate? Beside the point, he didn't have you to guide him out once he swims in, and he's so easily lost.

After grumbling and pacing around in his sea cave to the nearest fish who have no clue what is going on, he decides to visit your human friend. He managed to remember the way there, you better praise him if you ever come back.

He groans as he sees your human friend on his dock of his very shiny home. Malakai prepares himself for any mischief Ranee has brought today but is caught of guard by the merman talking using the limited language he has. Malakai eventually catches your name in the merman's garbled up human speak and barely catches on.

“Oh, you mean Y/n? Yeah, they're sick right now. Texted me they won't be by the docks for a few days.”

Thus leads into Malakai trying to explain what sickness is to the very confused Ranee. After a few hours of body anatomy lessons Ranee comes to the conclusion that you are in fact dying. So the merman is trying to find any way to your home only to realize you don't live near any body of water.

A few more days of your absence leaves Ranee all mopy. Just invite him to your funeral okay? He couldn't live with himself if he didn't at least part with you properly. He's slumped over on a rock, holding the things he had taken from you. He peppered each in tiny kisses. Oh, gods please hear him and give your soul back to him. That's the leas they could do for torturing you like this!

All the fish that came past his cave would swim in and nibble on his skin. Sea lions and seals alike would come in to push him out of the cave. Ranee didn't want to come out to play like he usually does. Not without you!

His life is so meaningless without you. The seals were barking at him to come out of his cave until a ray had swam over. His mopy attitude switches when he gets news from the ray that it saw you back on your kayak and was paddling out in the open. Ranee is completely overjoyed that you were back.

Swimming as fast as his fins could take him, Ranee jumps out like a dolphin and tackles you into the water. You're startled and thrashing but Ranee's cold, scaly face calms you down. You can only chuckle at the merman's clingyness.

“You don't have to almost drown me if you want my attention every time, Ranee.”

He shakes his head as his tail coils around your legs. You shiver as you're pulled closer to his cold body. No way is he letting go. You worried the hell out of him! Making him think you were dead. Bad mate! He only hits the top of your head, scolding you in grumbles.

“Never allowed, fish sticks and fries.”

You were practically an expert in Ranee talk at this point. You came to understand that he was demanding you to stay and never leave him again for that long. As much as you wanted to comply with such a request, you were going to get sick again if you didn't get out of this cold water.

Begrudgingly did Ranee help you back onto your kayak and pushes you back to shore. When you're drying off on the dock, you tell him what happen and give him a better explanation of what happened.

You're now stuck on that dock, listening to Ranee talk about what he had done while you were gone. He gurgles at your praises when he told you he swam through the harbor all by himself.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[noctiva]

Oh interesting :o Toby jorking it hcs….. how about EJ jorking it hcs too? 👀 (only if u wanna write that ofc)

-🐶

OKAY! lmao yeah I got you

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Eyeless Jack NSFW Headcanons (Beating it edition)

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CW: Explicit sexual content, 18+ content, descriptions of male masturbation + sex toys, mentions of mating cycles, mentions of a blood kink + cannibalism

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NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

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Jack’s not a fan lmao

Not that he hates it or anything, he’d just… rather not.

The feral demon part of his brain has rotted the rest of him, so if he’s spilling his load onto his bedsheets it just feels like a waste and he’s left with a pretty sour mood afterwards.

He’d much rather be giving it to someone :)

So, if he’s popping a boner and he’s not in a relationship - he’d be much more inclined to just ignore it until it’s gone or just go hop in the shower and turn it alllll the way to cold.

Unless….

I mentioned in my general Headcanons about him that Jack goes through mating cycles (because I said so) so, if he’s deep in the throes of his rut and doesn’t have a partner - what choice does he have?

Definitely a fleshlight kind of guy, because his hand just simply isn’t good enough. It gets the job done, but doesn’t leave him satisfied.

He’s fucking that toy like it’s the real thing, just filling it with load after load as his hips twitch and stutter.

Gonna go out on a limb here - he’s a pillow humper too ��‍↕️

Teeth locked into one pillow while his hips desperate rut against the other, throaty growls and groans muffling against the fabric as he stains them with his saliva and cum. He’s a drooler. Fuckin’ salivating all over the place tbh.

I hc him as fully blind, so he doesn’t need visual stimulation, but auditory…? Yes.

He’ll ‘watch’ porn just for the sounds - headphones in his ears and cranked to the highest volume. Head filled with the sound of that obscene squelching and skin on skin as he works to find his own release.

And he’s reallyyyyyy sensitive after he cums. Like, all over. If he’s in a rut and the arousal persists, he’ll still have to give himself a little bit of recuperating time before he gets back to it

But also, his refractory period is CRAZYYYYY

Give him like, less than a minute and he’s already getting hard again (this applies outside of his rut too, so if you’re in a relationship with him - lucky you!)

Like Toby, dude’s got a blood kink - but tbh, his is even worse (can you blame him? he’s a full blown cannibal.)

His blood isn’t good enough for him though (demon blood, tastes bitter), so he always makes sure to have a meal close by if he knows he’s close to his rut.

Getting real messy when he eats so that he can lick the blood off of his fingers while he fucks up into his fleshlight - imagining that it’s coming from the neck of his mate.

He’s loud too, even on his own.

Grunts, groans, growls - the whole nine yards. He doesn’t have the rationality to try and quiet himself, but at least it’s clear when not to come knocking.

And he’s fucking MESSYYYY. When it’s all said and done - his sheets are rumpled and damp, chest and abs smeared with his own release along with residual blood from feeding

Cleaning up is a task in itself, and as I said - he’d much rather be going through all of this with a partner, so he’s a little peeved when he has to put his room back together afterwards.

So as he does, he’s hoping that one day, he’ll be tasked with cleaning up his loved one instead.

————————————————————————-☆

did I wake up today thinking that I’d write about ticcijack jerking off? no, but life works in mysterious ways so here we are

[marauders-bs]

spoiler for tgr warning!

ch6 thoughts below

ravens don't recognize federal holidays???? tf sQUARE UP

jean doesn't know his own birthday. what if i killed myself /j but cat had to ask rhemann when jean's birthday was

the moreaus didn't do anything either thEY CAN FUCKING SQUARE UP TOO I'LL CAGE FIGHT THE PARENTS TOO

"last year was their year" "yeah if you ignore everything else"

FLOOZY 4 OF JULY PARTY! HELL YEAH one more bingo square checked off 🙂‍↕️

ivan faser did what now? jere you keep picking really bad guys for this he did that in front of how many people exactly?

jeremy praise kink confirmed oh my god man get up

barkbark is fucking BACK

jean moreau i will miss your iconic lines. "stop dying your hair the bleach is rotting your brain" is rough i would kms i fear

laila "surely this won't backfire at all" dermott is my queen fuck kevin day

"family chef" get out rich boy jfc

siblings? dead brother? named noah? jeremy lore bingo square crossed off but at what cost

JEAN ASKED IF IT GETS EASIER AND JERE SAID IT DOESN'T I'M GONNA DIE. OH MY GOD

anyways. jeremy and laila are learning french 🥹🥹

HEART SURGERY?? ON BOTH SIDES??? JEAN MOREAU I LOVE YOU SO MUCH DON'T EVER CHANGE

jean really said "nah man do ur thing" i love him so much. xavier said "can we keep him" and he's 100% real for that

this is not noteworthy but i love that it's included that cody took the cheese. i would take the cheese too

cody, ananya and pat wandering off is my roman empire acc it's the little things

unintentional jerejean cheek kiss... (does this count towards my jerejean kiss bingo square? i think it does) every coherent thought left jeremy's head and he's real for it too

AGAIN?? JEREMY WHY ARE YOU FALLING ASLEEP ON ROADS. TF???? THREE OR FOUR TIMES????

adhd jeremy is canon now right guys

count for "amount of times i have said 'oh my poor sweet summer child'" so far- ...17?

[tinyshyteacup]

Tw: cussing, tooth rotting fluff

Part 21

A Charming Detour - Part 22

His heart was pounding in his chest, and his hands were sweaty, and he knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn't fucking help it.

Juice’s brain decided to just malfunction.

He saw you standing in the kitchen, your back turned, casually reaching for a mug in the cabinet.

Okay.

Breathe. Just—tell her the plan.

“Hey, babe—uh, so, I was thinking—”

You turned around, looking at him with that sweet, soft expression, and Juice panicked.

“I mean—fuck, okay, don’t—don’t say anything yet,” he rushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just—just hear me out, okay?”

You blinked.

Juice kept rambling.

“So, like, I know we didn’t really do the whole, uh, dating thing—’cause, y’know, fake marriage, then—then feelings, which is totally ass-backwards, but, uh—” He let out a breathy, nervous laugh. “Whatever, that’s not the point.”

You tilted your head slightly, listening, which only made him more anxious.

“Like, an actual date. No club shit, no favors, no—none of the fake stuff. Just—me and you. I, uh—tonight” he blurted.

You blinked again.

Juice swallowed hard.

“So?” he asked, voice cracking slightly.

There was a pause.

Then—

Your lips parted slightly, a flicker of hesitation crossing your face before you spoke.

“Juice… we have work tomorrow.”

Juice froze.

His stomach plummeted.

Fuck.

Juice stared at you for a second, scrambling to process.

Because—

Fuck, he didn’t even think about work.

He was too busy being a lovesick moron to remember that you both had responsibilities.

“I mean,” you continued, biting your lip, “I’d love to, but I don’t think a late night out is a great idea.”

Juice felt something in his chest sink—but before he could get too deep into his own disappointment, you took a step closer.

“But…” You smiled softly, looking up at him. “How about takeout and video games?”

Juice blinked.

You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, a little shy now. “It’s not a date-date, but… it’s still just us, right?”

Juice’s brain stalled.

Because holy shit.

That was—

That was even better.

"We could save your idea though, until the weekend ?" You said, hopefully

Juice had spent the whole day stressing about where to take you, how to impress you, what the perfect first date should be.

But the truth was—

You didn’t need some big, extravagant night out.

You just wanted him.

His shoulders slumped in relief, and a huge grin spread across his face.

“Babe,” he exhaled. “That’s—fuck, that’s perfect.”

You giggled softly. “Yeah?”

Juice nodded quickly. “Yeah.”

Because nothing—nothing—sounded better than a night on the couch, eating shitty takeout and kicking your ass in video games.

Or, more likely, you kicking his ass—but whatever. He’d take it.

The smell of greasy fries and takeout containers filled the living room as Juice flopped onto the couch beside you, controller in hand.

“Alright, baby,” he said, nudging you playfully. “Hope you’re ready to lose.”

You let out a huff, curling up beside him. “Oh, please. I’m way better than you.”

Juice snorted. “Oh, now you talk shit? Alright. Let’s go.”

The game loaded, and you both settled into a comfortable rhythm—laughing, teasing, stealing each other’s food between rounds.

And Juice—

Juice couldn’t stop staring at you.

Because you looked so happy.

So at ease.

And this was actually real.

He felt something warm spread through his chest.

Juice was not cool.

He knew that.

But fuck, he was trying.

It started when you leaned over to grab a fry from his container—totally stealing his food, but he couldn’t even be mad because your sweater slipped off your shoulder a little, and it was so distracting.

Juice’s brain short-circuited.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath before he could stop himself.

You paused, blinking at him mid-bite. “What?”

Juice froze.

Shit.

Uh. Say something smooth. Say something—

“Your—your, uh—” He gestured vaguely at your shoulder, floundering. “It’s—uh, you’re—”

You glanced down in confusion, then tilted your head. “Juice, what are you saying?”

Juice panicked.

“Your skin,” he blurted, way too loud. “I mean—it’s, uh, soft.”

There was a beat of silence.

You stared at him.

Juice stared back.

Oh my god.

What the fuck did he just say?

Your lips twitched, and then—

You burst into laughter.

Juice groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

“I—” You wheezed, clutching your stomach. “My skin?”

“Shut up,” Juice whined. “It was supposed to be a compliment!”

“I mean—thank you?” you giggled, still watching him struggle. “That’s so—God, you’re adorable.”

Juice died inside.

A little later, you were curled up against him, casually scrolling through something on your phone while Juice tried to act normal on 1V1 mode.

Which was hard.

Because every time you shifted, every time your leg brushed against his, every time you tucked yourself a little closer to him—

Juice had to remind himself how to breathe.

But then—then he had an idea.

He saw an opening.

You stretched, arms lifting above your head, letting out a soft little sigh—

And Juice, in a very brave (and totally not well-thought-out) moment, decided to pull you back down against him.

Smooth. Casual. Effortless.

Or at least—

That was the plan.

What actually happened was—

He miscalculated horribly.

His arm yanked too hard, and instead of a cute, flirty moment—

You yelped and practically toppled into his lap.

Juice panicked.

“Shit—fuck—sorry, babe, I—”

You blinked up at him, stunned, your hands gripping his shirt.

Juice’s brain blue-screened.

Because—because you were so close.

Your nose nearly brushed his, your wide eyes looking up at him, your lips right there, and—

Juice forgot how to function.

“Uh.”

Silence.

You tilted your head, face crimson.

Juice swallowed.

And then you—

You just settled.

"This ok Juice?" You ask in that soft little voice.

Like it didn’t completely ruin him.

Juice nodded and barely managed to keep his brain from exploding.

Later, Juice was mindlessly playing with your fingers, tracing circles on your palm while you rested against his chest.

It was so easy to just be with you.

So easy that—

He kind of forgot to keep his mouth shut.

“You know I'm pretty sure I'm in love you.” he murmured absently.

Silence.

Juice blinked.

Then froze, realised what he said.

Then panicked.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

His heart stopped.

He did not just—

Slowly—very slowly—you shifted agasint him.

Juice stared at you, horrified.

He panicked.

“I mean—fuck,” he rushed, voice cracking. “I mean, like—not—not in, like, a weird way, just in a—I mean, not that it’d be weird if I did, but I just—” He wheezed. “Oh my god, kill me.”

Juice stared at the ceiling, heart racing.

He was so fucked.

Then—

He dared to look down.

Your eyelashes fanned your cheeks.

Your fist was curled up under your cheek.

Breathing even.

Holy shit.

You

You where asleep.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

And Juice?

He was freaking out.

Not in a bad way.

Just in a holy shit, I get to hold her kind of way.

For a long moment, he just stared at you, heart hammering against his ribs.

Your cheek was pressed against his shirt now, your fingers loosely curled against his chest. You looked so peaceful like this, so soft and warm and—

Fuck, he was in trouble.

Carefully—so carefully—he shifted, easing an arm beneath your legs before scooping you up entirely.

And immediately—

You whined in your sleep, instinctively burying your face against his throat.

Juice’s entire brain blue-screened.

His arms locked up, breath catching as your nose nudged against his skin, warm and trusting and—

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath.

This was dangerous.

Juice wasn’t sure what made him do it.

Maybe it was the way you sighed when he tucked you under the covers.

Maybe it was the way you rolled towards him instinctively, like even in your sleep, you wanted to be close to him.

Or maybe—

Maybe it was just the fact that you were his now, and for the first time, he didn’t have to pretend this whole thing was fake.

Either way—

He hesitated for way too long.

He was so used to trying to keep space between you in bed. You’d slept next to each other a bunch of times before, but always with a boundary—a line neither of he had never crossed.

But now?

Now, you were actually dating.

Now, he had every right to reach for you.

Right?

And the second he did—

You melted against him.

Juice sucked in a sharp breath as your body pressed flush against his, tucking yourself right under his chin like it was natural.

And it was.

Too natural.

Too easy.

Too perfect.

Juice’s throat went dry, heart pounding as he let his arms wrap around you fully, drawing you closer.

And the worst part?

You sighed in your sleep, nuzzling into his chest like you belonged there.

Juice was the human embodiment of a dial tone.

Juice tried to be smooth.

He really did.

But the thing was—

His brain stopped working whenever you were this close.

It started with his fingers lightly tracing up and down your back—innocent, just casual, nothing weird.

And then, in a very bold move, he tipped his head just slightly so his lips brushed your hair.

Soft.

You shifted at the touch, stirring just enough to murmur, “Mm… Juice?”

Juice froze.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Abort. Abort.

“Uh—nothing, baby,” he rushed, way too guilty. “Go back to sleep.”

You hummed sleepily, eyes barely open. “Y’sure?”

“Yeah,” he choked out. “I was just—uh—” He scrambled for an excuse. “You—you smell nice.”

Silence.

Then—

Your lips twitched.

Juice panicked.

Oh no.

You were fully awake now.

And you were grinning.

Juice groaned, immediately hiding his face in your shoulder. “Oh my god.”

You giggled. “I smell nice?”

“Shut up,” he whined.

You giggled harder.

You were warm.

That was the problem.

You were all soft limbs and gentle touches, your fingers absentmindedly brushing along his wrist, his arms and fuck—Juice was so gone for you.

“I like this,” you murmured sleepily.

Juice swallowed. “Yeah?”

You nodded against his chest. “Feels… safe.”

Something in his chest ached.

His arms tightened around you without thinking, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pressed a slow, almost reverent kiss to the top of your head.

“I got you, baby,” he murmured before he could stop himself. “Always.”

You hummed softly, completely at ease, and Juice—

Juice realized too late what he’d just said.

Oh shit.

Oh, shit.

His heart stopped.

Did you hear that?

Was it too much.

Did you—did you realize—

But no—your breathing had already evened out again, your body loose and trusting against his.

Juice exhaled.

He was so in trouble

[delcakoo]

enha’s favorite petnames ´✩ˎ˗

requested <3

PAIRING ! enhypen x f!reader

WC ! 2.1k

GENRE ! tooth rotting fluff

WARNINGS ! lots of petnames ofc ^^

a/n: finally ot7 post woo! a bit shorter than my usual but hope u all enjoy <3

// LEE HEESEUNG !

if you’re the type to get flustered easily.. oh boy

you miiiight be in trouble

but even if you aren’t? hee WILL change that

this man will search a whole dictionary just to find a name that’ll get you shy for him

but on the average day he’s pretty chill yet flirty with pet names

its a bit unexpected.. the longer you’ve been dating the worse it gets

everything begins with baby

it just starts replacing your name like

“there’s my baby, how was your day, hm?”

before you can even get used to that he’s already gotten more confident

his other go to names for you are angel and occasionally pretty

mushy yet effective c:

for example if you’ve been having a rough day or just got back from work or school? healing gamer boyf hee to the rescue!

“missed you, angel. wanna come sit on my lap while i game?” with a kiss against your temple :c

it’s such a simple name that he’d only ever call you, n’ he always says it so absentmindedly as if the name was your own

the latter is commonly used when you’re mad at him

“m’ sorry pretty. can your boyfriend try and make it up with some cuddles? and i’ll let you pick a movie?”

or perhaps when he’s being evil and wants a reaction out of you

“hey pretty girl, can you pass the remote?” pArdon

where did that come from sir..

when your reply comes out stuttered he snickers

this is not to say he isn’t just as weak for you!!

make sure to get him back since IT ISN’T THAT HARD

hit him with ‘handsome’ and bros a goner

“morning handsome, how’d you sleep?”

“i just woke up, stop..” suddenly your smug, confident boyfriend is hiding the grin on his face in the safety of your shoulder

BUT proceed with caution because hee will never just let you win, nuh uh!

if you step up your game so will he, be prepared for him to hunt down any name in the book that can get you going <3

// PARK JAY !

cmon this man is the epitome of romance!

he doesn’t even nOtice the effect it has on you, as his s/o jay thinks it’s common sense that you should have all the special names ^^

“darling, want me to get you a drink? i washed your favorite mug.”

“sweetheart, should i cut up some fruit for you and the boys?” yeAh he’d literally be in the kitchen doing shit instead of joining in movie night (just like in sosofun T-T)

THE BOYS DON’T EVEN TEASE because it’s just so cute and pure

even if they did it isn’t like he’d care

brushes them off because nothing can stop him from showering you in love

after a while you soooorta get used to it

but like can you ever really get used to jay’s way of waking you up in the morning

“my love,” he mumbles, peppering kisses along the back of your head while holding you tighter against his sturdy chest, “time to get up, okay?”

you just ask how he expects you to get up when he’s holding and talking to you like that :c

either way pet names are quite important for jay

it’s a method to show how serious he is about your relationship, he doesn’t go around calling just anyone beautiful,,

so if you use them on him as well? his heart will MELT

literally anything you do makes him happy, even just baby would get him smiling

even if it’s over text,, “sleep well! goodnight, love” HE IS FAST ASLEEP WITH A GIDDY SMILE ON HIS FACE

all in all jay is a giver!

doesn’t expect anything in return for his labor, so having you call him such praising names like he does for you..?

just?! starts malfunctioning

his brain immediately goes to things like “how’d i get so lucky” “i don’t deserve her”

also why words of affirmation is one of his top love languages!! give him the affection he deserves <3

and and one time you tried to see his reaction by calling him husband on the phone with a friend

..bro didn’t even bat an eye

the real definition of husband material

// SIM JAKE !

now this one.. unironically uses all the playboy pet names

you see

he started calling you babygirl as a joke A JOKE OKAY

just teasingly or fake flirting as if you weren’t already together y’know

however.. the annoying name

kinda stuck

and now he brings it up every so often,,

bro’s lucky because it’d probs give you the ick from anyone else..

when you’d show off a new outfit or arrive at your date location?

“yoi! looking pretty, babygirl!” :)

his other favourite is princess! no reason just that you’re his princess

you rarely hear your own name any more it’s always just

“when’d you buy that, princess?”

“hey princess, is the food warm enough?”

not that you mind!

as for him.. jake literally loves anything and everything when it’s from your mouth

call him snookums for all he cares as long as it isn’t his boring old name

if you even try to call him jaEhyun or jake you’re getting the injured puppy eyes >:[

baby, love, handsome, literally anything makes him smile and mentally kick his feet like AUGHHH hes so in love with you it hurts!!

however this may seem oddly specific

‘cause it is but

calling him dumb things like my hero WILL GET HIM GRINNING SO FAST

jake loves! feeling helpful! and important! mainly for you!!

EVEN IF ITS JUST. he tied your shoe just go ‘my knight in shining armour! i would’ve tripped without you’ and mans will be doing a lil’ dance in his head <3

yes you could’ve tied your own shoe but heeee did that he’s such a good helpful caring wonderful boyfriend right?? right

let him have his moments,,

// PARK SUNGHOON !

he is. sort of sorry

listen.. hoon can’t help his shyness

even after dating for a while this man still blushes at the thought of calling you something besides your name T-T

he settles for.. babe

around others it’ll be your name

but in private he’ll just quietly go “babe, now that they’re gone can we continue that show?” awWw

sure when he’s being a teasing nuisance he’ll pinch your cheeks and start calling you cutie or my baby just to see your annoyed frown

but when you harmlessly ask why he doesn’t call you that at any other time he gets all fidgety and shrugs his shoulders

“i dunno! it’s.. embarrassing.”

so pretty much

the only real way to get pet names out of hoon is if you can muster up the courage to start using them first

just jump scare him like

“pretty boy, wanna go get ice cream?” he’ll be looking around the room pointing to himself going mE??!

then he’ll eventually start using them in return, maybe just baby or angel here or there

more specifically if he’s really missing you or needs something

“yah, angel~” he’d yell from your apartment’s entrance, “you look good and all.. but we’re going to be late if you don’t hurry!!”

“wanna come visit the recording room at break? baby i’ll cry from exhaustion if you don’t.”

synopsis is. you know he reaaally needs you when those names come out

but but! like mentioned before he feels most comfy with casual nicknames

and if you’re okay with it, your own name which sometimes feels even more special to hoon ^^

he just loves saying your name as much as he loves everything else about you

however if pet names mean a lot to you no need to worry, he’ll get the hang of em’ and soon this dork will have you a blushing mess 24/7 mwahaha!

// KIM SUNOO !

baby is.. more romantic than you think!

as he warms up,, his favourite is simply calling you his love :c

in fact, he doesn’t mind saying it in front of the members even if they’re sure to tease him later on

“my love!” he exclaims as soon as you answer the phone, “i’m on the way to practise with everyone, wanna visit at lunch? jungwon keeps mentioning some mario movie he wants to watch with you..” *eyeroll*

he’s very.. go with the flow

if you call him a specific name then he may use the same one on you too ^^

for example, it was a bit unexpected to hear him start calling you hun

but at the same time you’ve called him that a couple times before too

sunoo always tries to catch on quickly when it comes to what you’re comfy with!

you wrap your arms around your boyfriend's waist just as he drops his duffle bag on the floor, “sun, how was recording?”

“ahh.. the others were yelling and gave me a headache. but it’s okay now that i’m with you, hun,” despite his exhaustion, he squeezes you with equal enthusiasm <3

as for himself, sunoo can’t help but smile when you call him the softer stuff

AND sun of course, it’s cute but simple — his favourite!

despite being the oldest of the maknae line, he’s used to being coddled a lot and sometimes.. it gets annoying

especially when the younger members join in

however when it comes to you?? he couldn’t care LESS

“my baby looks so tired, wanna sleep in my lap?” yep he’s absolutely sold

sometimes you have to repeat yourself ‘cause he was too busy getting flustered over your names for him <\3

// YANG JUNGWON !

being known for copying things like ‘yoi’

wonnie sometimes gets his pet names by watching/reading things

he could be on the plane during tour, watching a movie when the main lead says ‘beautiful’ and his first thought is just

“ah, that’s a good name for y/n”

may or may not have a note tab in his phone dedicated to names for you..

he would even research ones in other languages because he LOVES seeing your shy reaction when he explains what it means

“yah, why’d you text me something in a different language?”

when his cat eyes turn to crescents and his dimple poked through, you know he’s proud of whatever it is

“it means ‘darling’ in chinese, jagiya.”

when your expression changes and you turn to hide your smile, he leans over to give you a victory kiss through many giggles <3

on a day to day basis though

he enjoys saying your name in a cute way, besides the classic jagi/jagiya

“y/n~ come cuddle!” c’mon how’re you gonna say no!?

“look jagi,” he says it absentmindedly, even with the members nearby, “you’re my lockscreen now!”

will think it’s cute if you use the same names back, but won doesn’t mind anything ^^

he just really enjoys matching with you whether it be petnames, outfits, jewelry, anything really

so if there’s a specific name you like calling him

he’ll definitely steal it..

“bub, wanna order something for dinner?”

cat boyfriend just tilts his head, “okay, but why am i bub now?”

“i dunno, it’s just a cute name.”

then a few days later he—

“bub! i missed you!!” as soon as you walk through the door <3

cutie T-T

// NISHIMURA RIKI !

creative boy likes being unique with it :0

also ‘cause using super mushy names simply isn’t his style bUt

perhaps when he gets older that’ll change,,

most of the time babe/baby is an exception though

its quick, sweet, and right to the chase which is perfect for your impatient boy especially when he needs attention

“babe, babe, babe-“

you push him away slightly, holding the phone closer to your ear, “can’t you see i’m on the phone, ki?”

before you know it his arms are wrapped around you as his head dips into the crook of your neck, “baby i’m bored..”

“just a bit longer, okay?”

sometimes you may need some patience T-T

he also enjoys finding ways to make his own personal nickname out of your name, it feels much more special to him even if it’s not as ‘romantic’

AND OH BOY if anyone

absolutely anyone tries to use HIS name for you they’re getting the coldest death glare >:[

especially if it’s one of his members

in that case he has zero shame telling them off

“ow! what was that for?” jake whines, recoiling from the punch the younger had delivered to his arm

“you used my name for y/n,” he explains with a shy yet scolding grin, “the only thing you’re allowed to call her is her name, idiot.”

poor jake had to retell his story from the beginning,, sigh

just because he doesn’t do it himself does noT mean he won’t want you to call him cute shit!!

his reactions are always so worth it

“love, do you see my phone over there?” you feel bad interrupting your boyfriend who was peacefully napping in the living room, but the stress of being late for work was worse

instead of looking around though, riki only peels his eyes over to you, smiling giddily

“what was that?”

“have you seen my phone, doofus,” you repeat

“no, the first part!”

“love…?” suddenly he’s running over, picking you up and pulling you right over to the couch with him happily

good luck escaping his grasp c:

if u enjoyed, reblogs n’ feedback is always appreciated!

© delcakoo on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not rewrite, cross-post, translate, copy, etc.

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[scho17]

@hibiscusseaart

Ren Nohara

Ren and Kks doodles + me yapping ab this AU bc the brain rot has me in a chokehold

close ups so yall dont have to zoom in

I JUST REALIZED THIS WOULD MEAN THAT NARUTO IS TECHNICALLY ALSO THE HATAKE CLAN HEIR URAGHHHH

I NEED TO DRAW HIM WITH ALL THE NINKEN SO SO BADDDDDD

KAKASHI SHARING CLAN LORE BC HE HAS PACK TO CARRY ON HIS CLANS HISTORY AND TRADITIONS BC IT ISN'T JUST HIM ANYMORE SAVE ME SAVE ME

Hatake 'the line ends with me' Kakashi BUT NOT ANYMORE BABY HELL YEAH!! having a spouse and child will do that to you

Now does he really gaf ab tradition? Honestly, probably not but the idea of him not being alone in terms of family/clan is what he deserves (along with a lot of therapy).

HE MAY STILL BE MENTALLY ILL BUT NOT AS BADLY AS THE FIRST TIME AROUND 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Also, the consequences of Naruto having two parents who are both some of the most elite shinobi in Konoha is probably one of the best 'fuck off' deterrents he could have in terms of curbing harassment over his being the nine-tails container.

ALSO ALSO, "I'm gonna be Hokage!" oh and he's wearing those little blue goggles and carrying around the weight of a dead boy's dream without really knowing just how heavy that burden is but still carrying it all the same in the way only optimistic children can. Oh bitch I'm throwing up everywhere. Like yes he's going to bring peace to the shinobi world but he is also giving both his dad's the worst type of heart ache. Seeing doubles because he's so much like Obito but blonde and four times as stubborn.

kkrn trying so hard not to see ghosts in their kid but he's literally a mash up of Minato, Kushina, and Obito. Minato's kindness, Kushina's vitality, and Obito's pure will to be good.

Not saying that ghosts are all they see cause it's very much not. Naruto is still Naruto but sometimes there's that outline of an old memory that just doesn't fade. A little like deja vu I guess. Kakashi and Ren are so glad it's peacetime because even the thought of dandelion blonde beneath a too-big boulder makes breathing that much harder.

I imagine he gets trained an insane amount because both Kakashi and Ren want him to be able to defend himself. Even while it's peacetime, they're shinobi, there's always a risk. So long as Naruto is on active duty he'll always be in danger. With both of his guardians growing up/serving in the third war when they were barely older than Naruto it's practically a given.

Not that I think Naruto would complain about being able to learn jutsu/shinobi skills. He'd probably be stoked about it until he has to spend like four hours straight throwing shuriken and reading survival guides about edible plants. He complains about it. Loudly. mb lil bro half of ninja training is literally just ingraining reflexes and learning the land.

mmm academy-era Naruto going to the memorial stone and ranting about his day to it in the way he's seen both Ren and Kakashi do in the past. That's so cute and sad like "and then Shikamaru slept the whole time but it was supposed to be a GROUP project! Can you believe that!" and Obito is in the bushes nodding his head along like the good uncle he is. (He literally tried to murder Naruto when he was less than an hour old.)

Naruto just talks and talks and talks. About everything and nothing and its probably like the least depressing one-sided conversation Obito has ever heard in front of his grave (looking at you Kakashi, Ren).

I imagine that Naruto kind've treats the stone/Obito's memory fondly. Both Ren and Kakashi talk about him in warm tones and with growing up hearing stories of him it's hard not to feel like he knows him. He's not there, obviously, but if Naruto closes his eyes and imagines that scowling boy in his parent's team photo while he talks it almost feels real. (Honey, you've got a big storm coming.)

To their family, Obito is forever thirteen. He's passionate and has a short fuse. He loves sweets and has eyes and hair darker than the night, he's a sucker for a sob story and helps old ladies with their groceries. Naruto finds it hard not to see a friend in a ghost he's never met.

AA and then post Uchiha Massacre, Naruto just stares at the stone and wonders that if Obito were still here would he be gone too? Man I need to see what's going on in Obito's head during that.

On an unrelated note i wonder where the fuck Jiraiya is in all this. Bro is just out and about doing fuck all as two fourteen year olds take care of his godson and he's running from responsibility😭 i bet he sends guilt money. Ren literally doesn't give a single shit because even if Jiraiya did try for custody he would literally be getting his hands chopped off. No way in hell is Ren letting a pervert like that raise a kid that's a recipe for disaster. The money is nice but Ren could not give less of a fuck ab that mans guilt. Like "oh, you feel bad for not owning up to your God Father title that Minato, my late sensei, entrusted to you? Good."

I need to see Ren and Genma + Anko and Kurenai friendship. They would be a horrible terrible no good amazing friend group. Terrifying when together. Four horsemen of the apocalypse when they have an idea and put their mind to it.

Anyway, what are our opinions on ANBU Ren and Ren meeting 'Sukea' bc that all i've been able to think ab today. Okay, I'm done yapping thanks for listening.

[atlasalexanderwrites]

IMAGINE...being there with Arthur when he goes to Thomas Downes for his payment and interfering before things can go too far (preventing Arthur from catching TB)

WORD COUNT: 953

WARNING: none that I can think about, Arthur may be OOC some.

OTHER: reader is gender neutral; no gender specifics given to the reader so your choice!

A/N: the brain rot is real with RDR2 and with Arthur Morgan; I've been feeling icky for the last few days and the others in my house are all coming down with stuff so I needed a comfort character aka Mr. Morgan himself.

A/N2: I've been wanting to write an alternative to the scene where Arthur gets sick where...well...he DOESNT get sick. Originally, I attempted writing him as more low honor Arthur and then instead got this instead lol

A/N3: ENJOY!

“Arthur stop.”

“Arthur this has gone on long enough.”

“ARTHUR DAMMIT!”

Your weren't overly, physically strong by any means, but your partner wasn't in his right mind and was swinging blindly at the poor, frail man he had pinned to the ground. Arthur wasn't thinking clear enough that you were able to knock him to the ground and off of the man who immediately rolled to the side and started coughing, blood splattering all over the ground.

You held a hand to Arthur's chest, praying like hell he had the sense not to start swinging on you as well. “Mr. Downes, I am so sorry about this. I…it seems the heat has gotten to my partner. Is there somewhere that we can speak, calmly and peacefully?” The man had been upset the entire time you and Arthur had been there. Whatever reasons he had for borrowing from Strauss, you knew that you and Arthur didn't have even half of the story. And while you ran with the Van Der Linde gang, the last thing you enjoyed doing was swindling poor people who clearly were unable to repay the loan.

“Arthur, go clean your hands off. Now. And stay with the horses.” You demanded, openly glaring at him and silently warning him against arguing with you.

He grumbled and spat at the ground, but knew you well enough not to push his luck.

You waited for him to stomp off before turning back to the Downes family. 

They were watching you with hesitation and distrust, which you couldn't blame them at all for, but you could also see something hidden just beneath the surface. Something akin to hope.

You sat with them for over an hour, listening to their troubles and how they had ended up this way. They truly were just misfortunate souls who had landed on bad times that seemed to only get worse.

Mr. Downes was sick. Really sick.

It had affected his ability to work as he once had. Taking aloan from Strauss had felt like the only thing to do at the time. Even if the man knew it was a bad idea.

“Get well, please. You won't hear from myself or my associates again.” You promised, biting back the raw anger building in your stomach for Leopold Strauss. What the hell had that man been thinking loaning to these people?

He's a fraud. Just like the rest of us in the Van Der Linde gang. Liars, cheats, and no-goods.

How could you have expected anything but this?

“Feeling better?” You asked Arthur, coldly, as you met back up with him at the horses.

“Oh don't start with me. What the hell was that back there? I nearly had the payment.”

“You nearly guaranteed your own death, Morgan, don't get an attitude with me. That man is sick, his family is struggling, have some…some compassion. This isnt you, Arthur. You're not a thoughtless, careless asshole who beats up the helpless.”

“Oh what the hell do you know about me?”

You rolled your eyes and pulled yourself up into your horse's saddle, “I know you’re better than this. I know you're not meant to be the next Dutch. And I know that all of this eats away at you at night; whether you want to admit it or not.”

Arthur scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Yeah well, you think you’re so smart, dontcha?”

“Smarter than you’re acting,” you grit your teeth and pulled at your horse’s reins to turn away from him, “Get your head out of your ass, Arthur, and stop trying to act so damn tough. The others might like you like this, but I don’t. And I can think of a few others who don’t either.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Arthur was sitting atop his own horse now and rode up alongside you. He was still upset, but his tone was lower and more gruff than anything else, “I was handling things just fine back there.”

“Sure, Arthur.”

“I didn’t need you to step in.”

“I know that, Cowboy.”

“Will you stop answerin’ me like that?” A sigh slipped from your lips as Arthur’s hand suddenly reached across the small distance between the horses and wrapped around your wrist, keeping you from taking off and trying to force you to pay attention to him. “You’re still too soft on people, ya hear? He knew what he was getting into when he accepted Strauss’ loan.”

Meeting his gaze, you nodded and responded with, “Yes, he did, but people make mistakes, Arthur, and it shouldn’t be met with a stiff fist to the face. He’s ill, Strauss took advantage of that. Thomas Downes and so many more are simply trying to get by. Just as we are. It doesn’t matter now. The debt is settled, I’ll handle things with Strauss.”

It was easy enough to see the look of thought behind Arthur’s blue eyes, and you could tell he was thinking over everything that had happened and all you had said. Finally, he nodded stiffly and let go of your hand. “Alright then, Partner. I’ll follow your lead.”

“Really?” You questioned, brow raised.

Arthur shrugged, “Don’t sound so surprised. Don’t I always do as you say?” His tone had returned to a more teasing nature, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in amusement.

“No, you don’t. If you did, we wouldn’t always end up in these situations.”

Humming, Arthur rubbed at his chin and asked, “Would you have me any other way?”

A laugh escaped your mouth before you could stop it and this time when you rolled your eyes it was out of fondness instead of irritation as before. “No, Arthur Morgan, I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

*

Hey! I hope you all enjoyed! If so please consider liking and reblogging! Thank you!

Please stay safe!

~ Atlex Writes

[thelonelyshore-if]

Wanna share which hozier songs make you think of tls and why? 👀 totally not to future add to my brain rot no no no

Oh yeah absolutely:

Too Sweet is a Beck/MC song (or Beck/MC/Perri song) to me!! I think of them a lot when I listen to it, especially with a MC that's a little more subdued.

don't you just want to wake up / dark as a lake / smelling like a bonfire / lost in a haze / if you're drunk on life, babe / i think it's great / but while in this world / i think i'll take my whiskey neat / my coffee black and my bed at three / you're too sweet for me / you're too sweet for me.

Like Real People Do is (one of my) top Yasmin songs. For reasons. It's so sweet and dark and full of longing...

i knew that look dear / eyes always seeking / was there in someone / who dug long ago / so i will not ask you / why you were creeping / in some sad way / i already knew / i will not ask you where you came from / i will not ask and neither would you / honey just put your sweet lips on my lips / we should just kiss like real people do.

In the Woods Somewhere has general ~TLS Vibes~ but also...Ravi.

what caused the wound? / how large the teeth? / i saw new eyes were watching me / the creature lunged / i turned and ran / to save a life i didn't have / deer in the chase / there as i flew / forgot all prayers of joining you / i clutched my life / and wished it kept / my dearest love, i'm not done yet.

In a Week is also General Vibes to me, but it makes me think about Jay's romance because a) I think In a Week is one of the most romantic songs ever and, b) I associate Jay's romance a lot with finally getting to rest.

i have never known sleep / like the slumber that creeps to me / i have never known color / like this morning reveals to me / and you haven't moved an inch / such that i would not know / if you sleep always like this / the flesh calmly going cold / we lay here for years or for hours / your hand in my hand / so still and discreet.

I could actually and for real do this all day so I'll wrap it up here, but Shrike is a Croft song to me!! For...reasons!

i was housed by your warmth / thus transformed / by your grounded and giving / and darkening scorn / remember me, love / when i am reborn / as a shrike to your sharp / and glorious thorn.

[prentissluvr]

sammy brain rot hours:

feminism leaves my body when i look at sam winchester,, wanna be a good lil housewife for him (!!!) (like im their bobby yk? mostly doing research from the bunker, joining on hunts occassionally) welcome him home with a kiss and home cooked meals (idk how to cook proper food) and and and bombard him with love and force him to take a day’s break after each hunt ,, cuddle him , go with him on walks (god pls) ,, listen to his nerd talk

i deserve it 😭

thank u for listening to me yap

-mwuah 💋

GIRL YOU ARE SO TRUE FOR THIS AND I MEAN THAT !!! i love this for you actually, like this is facts of you to say and it's so valid and yeah! i think that's the real stuff. and like there's actually so so much merit to that kind of thing, like bro research is so hard imo HAHA so you'd be so strong for that. and yeah who's to say you can be a badass hunter when you want to be! but like bro i think it'd be nice not to have to do all that travel and hard physical labor of yk killing stuff and almost getting killed. and then yeah!! that means you're likely far more well rested than sammy when he gets home which means that you can take care of him hehehehe.

like him being greeted with a kiss from you after a long drive is just so beyond amazing for him, it's so comforting and relaxing and lord knows that he needs and deserves that. plus you have food from him that's not from a diner?? this must be the real heaven for him. like i also cannot cook for the life of me, but mans loves salad! you could just makes him a simple salad and he'd be so delighted because it has freshly cut apples, his favorite dressing, and non-soggy greens! like how amazing is that! genuinely you could makes the simplest of things (which is the only thing that i personally am capable of LOL) and he'd just be so delighted <3 like anything homemade is such a rarity for him and it's genuinely actually something really really special to him when you make him food and now i'm getting all soft and emotional about the fact that sam's barely had that sort of thing in his life. for some people hand made food is an indicator of home, and we all know that sam has never really had that. anyways crying because you just make the bunker somewhere infinitely better to come back to purely with your presence. on top of that, you make him salads and kiss him sweetly and you make him lay in bed and let him cuddle you to his heart's content. like truly you're such a comfort to him i can't :,)

and walks!! oh god i literally was thinking about how much sam would love love love to go on walks with his partner, genuinely. he loves the fresh air under a circumstance so domestic and normal and it's made a million times better by you. your hand in his makes him feel so calm and it gives him those little pieces of normalcy that he craves, no matter the fact that he'll always choose this life. you give him balance and something pure and good to come home to. and ahhhh yes the nerd talk <333 i'm making heart eyes right now for real. he feels so so so grateful for someone to talk to about all these little random facts of knowledge that he has floating around in his head! in instead of shutting him down or calling him a nerd (well, sometimes you do but it's done so lovingly that he doesn't care) you actually will listen, and even ask him follow up questions! he's just so excited to share things with you <33

argh i love him so bad and i thank you for sending this ask, i'm always so so happy to listen to your yapping hehe i love it <33 but you so got my thoughts flowing so ty for that hehe <33 love it sm fr <33

[nnnyxie]

Feeling a lil down about myself, what would you think about Izu x chubby reader? Reader isn’t necessarily insecure but does have bad days, maybe some of Izu‘s fans were being extremely horrible to reader or something because of their weight (I live for protective!Izu) and reader just shuts themselves off and is rotting away in a pile of blankets in their apartment while Izu dosen’t get what’s going on at all- he adores reader and isn’t all like „oh but your boobs and ass and thighs“ he just adored READER you know??? Often when I read x chubby!reader they only mention their curves and thighs and what not but I don’t think reducing plus size people to curvy plus size people is very inclusive so idk if that makes sense but yeah kwnfksld

#𖢥 izuku anon

baby i am loving these requests and i’m happy to give you chubby rep!!

i sorta based it on how i get when i’m insecure about myself so i’m sorry if it isn’t what you were hoping for :(

some days it’s just hard yk?? people get mean and it can really fuck with your brain. it makes it hard to look at yourself sometimes.

especially when you’re with a pro hero. people think that you ‘don’t belong together’ just cause you two have different body types. and it’s sickening how people think that way.

it makes you feel awful— all of the hateful comments you get under your posts gets overwhelming and sometimes you have to archive them all together. sometimes you even have to deactivate your account because they get so overwhelming.

izuku always wonders why you do that— you never give him a real reason. just a ‘i don’t feel like being on social media right now’. he knows it’s not the truth but, he doesn’t want to pry. he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable by hounding you for answers.

but tonight— tonight was awful. the first thing you saw while opening instagram was a picture of you and your lovely boyfriend, something a fan posted. the fan was nice!! their post was a cute edit and it was an appreciation post!! but the comments— the comments were sickening. they were filled with so much hate, it made you physically ill. and today you weren’t ‘feeling’ yourself so the comments didn’t exactly help.

you deactivated your account again. now you were thinking about just deleting it all together. it won’t stop the hate but it’ll stop you from seeing it. either way— you decided to try and push those awful comments away and read, maybe it could lighten your mood.

it didn’t. the thoughts kept coming back— you couldn’t even read a full paragraph. it felt awful. you felt awful. maybe a shower would help?

as soon as you stepped foot in the bathroom, you stepped right back out. it hurt to look at yourself. it made you cry. you weren’t particularly insecure but these comments were ruthless and they just really got to you this time.

when izuku got back home from patrol, he found you in your shared bed, you were curled up in a pile of blankets with nearly all the pillows surrounding you. he heard your crying— and was immediately concerned. why wouldn’t he be?

“love, what’s the matter? did you watch the neverending story again?” he sat beside you and pulled the blankets down so he could full see your face. this wasn’t your ‘sad movie’ cry. this was entirely different.

“hey, what’s going on?” “it’s nothing— i uhm just read something sad is all.” you were a very poor liar.

“be honest with me, please? is something going on?” he was now laying beside you, holding you from behind. “i just— do you really want to be with me? i’m not—” you choked, crying more at the thought of him leaving for someone ‘better’ (there is no one better). “of course i do. i love you. why wouldn’t i want to be with you?” “how aren’t you… how aren’t you disgusted by me?” “why would you ever think i’d feel that way towards you? i love all of you. and everyday i find more to love about you.”

then— it clicked. he remembered.

“is this about that post? bakugo sent it to me… he told me to look at the comments— baby if i knew this was happening sooner i would’ve done something about it. why didn’t you tell me?” he rubbed your arm in comfort, he knew all about being insecure— of course he couldn’t relate to where yours stemmed from but, he knew how awful it felt to feel like you aren’t enough for people. “i didn’t want you to be mad at them. they’re your supporters.” “they aren’t my supporters if they’re treating you this way.” he took a breath, he was upset. not by you— never. but, by the hateful people. “i love you, and every part of you. i’ll never be disgusted by you and i’ll never want anyone else. i only want you.” god you loved him.

“can you turn so i can see that pretty face?” you turned to face him. izuku had a smile but, his eyes welled when he saw the tear streaks that ran down your cheeks. he cupped your face, swiping his thumps to wipe away the stray tears that still fell. “you’re the most beautiful person i have ever met.” you cried again, not because you were upset— but, because, he was just so wonderful to you. izuku held you, letting you cry into him.

“i’ll address it.” “you don’t need to.” “i’m going to.”

don’t mind the neverending story part…. i just rewatched it today and cried abt the horse scene… artax :(

[weirdcoregal35]

Sakura and Solar’s friendship be like:

PART ONE!!

MEMES!! TW AHEAD!!!

Sakura: Thar she blows, captain. There be an egg in the water!

Solar: *from a distance.* IM PREGNANT WITH POSEIDON’S CHILD!!

Sakura: SO THE MPREG WAS REAL!!

Solar: *throws a chair.*

Sakura: AHH-

~~⭐️⭐️⭐️~~

Sakura: Rapunzel, Rapunzel! Let down your hair!!

Solar: FUCK YOU BITCH, THE ONLY PRINCE THATS GETTING ME IS RUIN-

Both: *wheezing.*

~~⭐️⭐️⭐️~~

Sakura: This town is big enough for the both of us!

Solar: Isn’t it, “this town ISNT big enough for the both of us”?

Sakura: Yeah, but you my bestie, so it’s fine.

~~⭐️⭐️⭐️~~

Sakura: Yeah, don’t worry! They won’t even know we had it when we’re finished!

Solar: Finished with what?

Sakura: You brought the supplies, right?

Solar: Yeah, but-YOU BROUGHT ME HERE TO COOK CR@CK?!

Sakura: Yeah, I mean, what else is baking soda for?

Solar: I don’t know, BAKING?!?

~~⭐️⭐️⭐️~~

Sakura: So, Solar, are you going in the water?

Solar: Nah, I’m good.

Sakura: Really? Cause I saw Ruin in there packing hella ass-

Solar: NYEA-*jumps in.*

Sakura: *wheezing.*

Solar: YOU LIAR!!!

~~⭐️⭐️⭐️~~

Sakura: Oh wow :0

Solar: *singing Headlock (they’re doing karaoke)* You know you’re better than this~…

Sakura: *singing the same song like she’s in Friday Night Funkin*

~~⭐️⭐️⭐️~~

Sakura: T-Top ten reasons why Sakura is sorry! Number five with surprise you!

Solar: Top thirty anime deaths. Number one…*pulls out his toolbox* YOUR FUCKING ASS, RIGHT NOW!!

Sakura: OH PLEASE, THAT TOOL BOX IS THE REASON JACK WAS MISSING FOR MONTHS!!

*pause*

Sakura: I’m-I’m sorry-

Solar: *sprinting towards her*

Sakura: AHHH-

~~⭐️⭐️⭐️~~

Sakura: Solar, can alcohol kill an animatronic?

Solar: No, it can’t. Even if you pass the lethal limit.

Sakura: So…that means that caffeine can’t hurt an animatronic either, right?

Solar: …Sakura, what are you trying to get at?

Sakura: What I’m trying to say is since your a complete coffee person, you can drink as much as you want without life altering effects.

Solar: …Start the damn coffee pot-

Sakura: Already on it. Let’s go wild!!

~~⭐️⭐️⭐️~~

Earth: So, are you sure this size will fit me?

Sakura: Of course! But, it’s your wedding day, so it’s up to y-

Solar: *kicks down the door* HEY!! Who the HELL taught Ruin brain rot…?

Ruin: Darling, I don’t see what’s wrong with it! It’s not my fault I’m the alpha while you’re a beta :3

Earth: Oh-Oh my-

Sakura: *laughing her ass off. She’s the reason for it.*

Solar: YOU’RE DEAD, CHERRY TREE!!!

[ratedfleur]

hi ohmygee i have this brain rot idea about gyuvin that’s been in my head for DAYS and i have to get it out!!

so you’re older than gyuvin and he’s so in love with you and constantly tries to win you over but you’re stubborn bc that’s your older brothers best friend (maybe the older brother is jiwoong??)

but one day gyuvin gets tired of hearing you complain about no good dates and how you’re on a sex dry rn and finally makes a move on you, and you cave!!

and the sex is so mind blowing like holy moly? who knew this lanky tall boy could be so talented in bed? and he’s so loving and caring but also so rough, teasing you how you could’ve been fucked like this forever ago if you’d stop being so oblivious.

he definitely uses the fact that he’s taller and bigger than you to his advantage (i’m a firm believer in gyu having a size kink and strength kink), manhandling you around and relishing in the way you just take it. praises you so much and tells you how beautiful you are.

yeah i’m down bad for this man😵‍💫

honestly i love your brain because i love it when gyuvin is paired with an older y/n?!

the sex with gyu is indeed 🤯 because he’d have you in his hands in just a snap, you’d be so pliant in his hands because he knows how to please you in ways that you didn’t even know existed.

“mommy, you’re so tight for me. this pussy is all mine, all mine for me to keep and fuck, wouldn’t keep this pussy dry ‘cause i’m gonna fuck you full with my cum.” gyuvin moaned from behind you as he fucked you, pushing your upper body down onto the bed as he hoisted your hips up.

you cried from underneath him, staining his pristine bedsheets with your tears and drool as he fucked you into ecstasy.

“gyu, just like that! oh shit shit shit!” you cursed as gyuvin kept plowing into you, his huge thumb rubbing your clit.

“just like this huh? i could only fuck you this way, nobody else can make you cry like this.” gyuvin chuckled as you nodded in response, “only you could make me feel good! ugh please vin-ah, wan’ your cum inside!” you cried once more before gyuvin thrusted into you, hips slamming hard against yours.

“so fucking good, keep clenching on me like that— fuck, mommy!” gyuvin gasped when you did clench around him, chest heaving with an unsteady breath as your pussy pulsed around his dick.

then he’d decide to switch positions, he’d abruptly pull out and before you could even complain, gyuvin would flip you on your back and he’d slip in as if nothing even happened.

gyuvin would resume his thrusts, plowing into you harder. “look at you mommy, i could see me through your stomach.” gyuvin cooed as he saw your tummy bulging every time he pushed into you.

he wouldn’t be able to resist and he’d lie his hand flat on your stomach and thrust repeatedly in a steady hard rhythm, feeling himself poke through your stomach.

you looked down and immediately you’re crying, you’re sobbing as gyuvin fucked you with an even faster pace.

gyuvin cooed and wiped your tears away with his free hand, “don’t cry mommy.” he says with a gentle smile that contradicts with his monstrous dick and pace.

he would have you cumming on his dick in no time, squirming around underneath him as he fucked you through your orgasm, now chasing his own.

“gonna fill you up with my cum, yeah? keep you all warm and swollen from it? gonna be pretty all swollen from my cum, mommy. just wanna make you a real mommy..” gyuvin muttered as his hips stuttered when he started coming inside of you, quite literally filling you up with his cum and making your tummy swell with the amount of cum he released inside of you.

[samstclair]

Joel Miller's Survivor

Joel Miller X Reader

Anonymous Request

"Hey Sam! Hope you're still alive. You've been like ghost, and I'm getting worried about my request not being fulfilled, AND your health, of course or whatever! Yeah so can you get to it already? Joel X reader, simple. Can you make Y/N be like traveling with them or some shit? I don't know. But do your thing when you've crawled out of your hole!"

Word Count: long bro

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

As you lied in your bed, rotting (you have not gotten up in the three hours you've been awake [so now it's almost 12 in the afternoon]), feeling like absolute dog shit for:

1. your empty tummy, 

2. not having showered in a week despite you paying your water bills, 

3. your internet running at the speed of a geriatric snail so no more fan-cam edits, ALSO despite paying your internet bills, 

3. just feeling like an overall ball of grease and oil that could, if necessary, fill a car's gas tank, 

4. not having gotten up in those three hours, 

and 5., perhaps most importantly, the world ending :(

you gazed out your window into the morning (afternoon, actually), light that peered through. It was scenic really, little puffs of dust, some asbestos tinkled in, gliding softly in the air. It hit you - this is not fun or fresh. This sucks dick, actually. 

You rose, stretching, a big big biiiiigggggg stretch, cracking every conceivable bone in your body, trying to avoid looking in the mirror that could potentially reveal your physically-troubled state. You didn't even have to look to know the condition your hair was in - actually let's not talk about the hair. You'll spiral. If we can't see it, it's not real :D

"Fleabag said it best. Hair IS everything," you thought to yourself, thinking about avoiding the mirror. "Oh my god I could SOOOOO binge Fleabag right now -"

But you knew that wasn't an available way to veg out. As mentioned before, your power, water, and internet were out. You supposed it came with the world ending and all. 

"Grrrjsdjaksdfnbdsjdskjjfs," your tummy said. You cradled it like a mother holding her child. 

"Mama needs to eat soon...", you thought wearily.

You rose and peered out the window - and it was the same old shit. Those cracked-out girlies were still on the prowl, being the biggest cockblocks you've ever encountered in your life for some good food. 

"But girl, we gotta eat! We have to soon," your brain said. "You can't keep this shit up! REAL calories and shit actually do matter!"

"But bitch how? Those fat asses on the street are gonna try to toss up with you again!" the other side of your brain said. 

"So what? You're gonna keep living off three-month old Halloween candy?? Those Twix's are tasting more like the processed chocolate that they are every DAY! Stop playing around and gaslighting yourself into thinking they're good, girl!" the other side argued back. "THINK about it. You bought those to sneak in to watching Dune in theaters. And not even the second Dune, the first. They're literally vintage." 

"What's stomach gotta say?" the other side shot back, quite angrily. 

"Grhjdkajdjsjdfoifdiosiojf," your stomach replied. You knew what that meant a little all too well - your stomach couldn't take it anymore. She wasn't even sentient enough to respond.

"FUCK!" you bursted aloud! So loud that the cracked-out girlies out on the street got startled and did a little jump! 

You absolutely HATED being hungry. If this experience had taught you anything, it's the appreciation of a good ass fucking meal. You were, after all, a self-proclaimed 'fat ass bitch'. So how were you gonna live up to that now? 

You began to reminisce about your favorite dishes, even though you knew it wasn't gonna be a good idea for your mental health. 

Bandeja paisa...

Pickles...

McDonald's cheeseburger with Big Mac sauce...plz McDonald's worker, don't forget the sauce........

Publix sub...

Mango chunks with tajin...

Provolone cheese and salami...

Korean corndogs...

A fat ass burrito...

Little Caesars breadsticks...

Auntie Anne's organic cinnamon rolls...

Vodka pasta...

Coconut chickpea curry...

...a bowl of assorted fruit but none of that honeydew cantaloupe bullshit...

"FUCK!" you yelled again. They also jumped! again. "How the FUCK did I go from drinking tiki cocktails on the beach to the WALKING FUCKING DEAD?!?!?!?!??!!!!! I DON'T EVEN HAVE A FUCKING RICK HERE PROVIDING FOR ME!!!"

You slammed yourself back on the bed, ready to cry - both from the acceptance that this was your new reality and slamming yourself a little too hard that you felt a spring bust up into your thoracic spine. You hated yourself for talking shit about that cantaloupe and honeydew. Yeah they're ass and should NOT have a place in a fruit bowl but that was real fucking food. Real SUSTENANCE!!! And what did you do? You fed it to the fucking seagulls on the beach and used it to pelt those fuck ass middle schoolers who wouldn't stop quoting Adin Ross, when you could have enjoyed it yourself. Had it been now, you would've Iron Clawed those birds and children for those two dookie ass fruits just for a taste of something REAL. Not moldy chocolate from a Costco bag that you snuck into Lynch's Dune. (Yeah girl, I'm not talking the Timothee one. I'm taking the Kyle MacLachlan one. I said they were vintage!)

How did we get here?

Well, we'll revisit this question later, cause right now you have come to one FINAL decision - food. You. Need. Food. 

"Fuck it bro," you told yourself, tears welling in your eyes as you climbed out of your bed and made your way downstairs to the exit. "If there's no fine-ass cowboy police officer with a big ass nose to do it for me, I guess mama gotta do it herself." 

You slipped on your old-reliable Crocs (the Lightening McQueen editions so you could go fast), then opened your back sliding glass door as to avoid the crackhead girlies on the street out front, the sun nearly blinding you solar-eclipse style. You felt like a hostage released from a hole after months of being, well, held hostage. 

"Is this what Saddam felt like?," you thought.

A wave of complete euphoria went over you as you heard the birds chirp, the wind fly by, the smell of green grass with a little hint of deteriorating carcasses - it felt GOOD to be outside. Though you have had some bouts of homebody phases, you were never not missing the great outdoors. Besides the mosquitoes and the balls-hot sun, and the occasional dead bodies. But, you reminded yourself, we have to make the BEST of these types of situations. 

You closed the glass door, quietly, cause those electric-chair looking victims had the most insane hearing, (making, admittedly, quite jealous since you're sure you lost a percentage of your own hearing prematurely after the introduction of AirPods.)

You then walked across your now overgrown garden, which under any other circumstances, could have passed off as a big whimsical fairy garden with the grass now being several feet tall, little ladybugs and shit nestled between. But now, shit made you feel like you were in a jungle back in 'Nam, circa 1970, pushing the foliage out of your face as you got across, bracing yourself for running into a spider web or a gnat smacking you in the face. 

Once you saw the backyard gate, you opened it quietly and peered out onto the street - it was quiet, ODDLY quiet, with not one of those cockblockers in sight. You knew better, however, looks can be deceiving. We all thought those Polly Pocket outfits looked pretty good, but the gastrologist telling your parents that their elementary-school child has a rubber dress lodged in one of their intestines actually isn't pretty good. 

You crept out, tiptoeing like a cartoon character or Drake sneaking past Travis Scott to whisper his verses on MELTDOWN, making sure to stay EXTRA vigilant of your surroundings. You needed to master the art of NOT disassociating, which basically meant undoing all your previous masterings of the craft. It was extremely difficult, but it was needed - slipping up LITERALLY means death here. On some for realizies shit. On some getting eaten out by and not in the good way shit. (That was disgusting I apologize - Sam)

As you crept down the street, passing down the backdrop to your average end-of-the-world surroundings with moldy houses and charred cars, you tried to remember the way to the Target. You were shit at directions and there was no Apple Maps to help you now. You just had to rely on your primal instincts of location - which, suffice to say, were usually not that good. But, when food's involved, you could track like a Neanderthal holding a spear hunting a fat ass mammoth with a posse of your fellow Neanderthal girls, you know, like, primal. 

You turned the corner, sure of where you were going and worried about your luck thus far. No zombie in sight oh shit never mind there's one across the other side of the street. 

It kept twitching in its tweaked state, continuously running into a fence since it was blind with that ugly ass toe fungus all up in its face. 

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit," you told yourself. Asshole clenching, toes squeezing downward, you calmed yourself down. It was the blind one so girl you're good! Just creep by quietly, ain't nothing to it! 

You took in a deep breath - tap in tap in tap in girl! Just walk on past! 

"Okay, okay," you told yourself. "Girl CHILL! Let's go okay, one, two, three - oh fuck I'm fucking shitting myself -" 

But then, it hit you - you literally had no reason to be scared. You literally lived in New York. You took those subways, you knew how to handle characters like that. 

Like a light switch normally does, you switched. You felt all that fear drain out of you, like the shit you took earlier - quick and easy (it was diarrhea, so, not really a good analogy metaphorically). You walked on down, even giving a friendly wave at the fungus girl. They're people too! You remembered to tell yourself, you CANNOT judge someone by their appearance! They're just going through it, I mean, after all, we've all been in that depressive episode/state before. Why hate when you can relate? Exactly!  In all honesty, your hair right now probably isn't making you look well-adjusted. We all have our bad days <3 Just don't look at them too long and you're good! 

As you passed by, it occurred to you - you have not been out in a MINUTE. All that hubbub and for what? You just had to wave and walk past. This brought a refreshing smile to your face, happy that you were grounded back to your reality. 

"Pharrell was right. Look at the birds," you told yourself as you strolled along by, "look at the bees."

Though there were no birds or bees in sight, and the possible thought crossing your mind that you hallucinated the birds' chirps earlier, you thought it best to live in this pretend state. It helps being fake happy sometimes, after all! More and more that carbon dioxide leak in your house was sounding less like a theory and more like a fact!

You continued on, now remembering the area - Target was only a block or two away. Just in and out and oh shit there's another depressed tweaker right in front a couple feet away from you. 

This time, it wasn't one of those fungus girls. It was the one who could see AND hear. Talk about double fucking whammy. And she clocked your ass, head swinging inhumanely fast to look you straight in the face. 

"DAMN BITCH! YOU UGLY AS FUCK?!" you thought to yourself, unfortunately your instant, innate reaction.

"Hey, girl!" you said, friendly, trying to maintain your mindset from earlier. You waved and walked past, she seemed so taken aback from your friendliness that you left her stunted. She just stayed behind and watched. And on you walked on blissfully. 

But you weren't walking for long when you heard the pitter patter of those steps RACING behind you. You whipped around. Again, you were shit at directions and feet and all, but you were PRETTY sure that you'd walked several feet farther away, so why was the ugly fungus-but-no-fungus girl HELLA close to you right now?

"What?" 

The girl stopped, now confronted. 

You waited for a response. 

Apparently, so did she.

Y'all just stood there, silent.

......

................

...............................

..........................................

"Girl, I said what?"

Nothing. 

You shrugged, rolling your eyes and turned back. But again, that pitter fucking patter. 

You whipped around, quicker. She stopped her running, caught again. 

"Bitch, chill. I know your ass is not chasing at me," you warned. 

Nothing. Again.

You turned back around, walking a little faster. "Flaka drug ass bitch," you said under your breath. 

Pitter. 

Patter.

You whipped around again so fast you gave yourself whiplash and vertigo at the same time. 

 She stopped. 

"Bitch," you said, annoyed. 

"Ahfsjjdshhuweuifw," she mumbled. 

"I'm sorry?" you asked, genuinely confused at her mumbling. 

She had a dumbfounded face, despite not having the greatest ability to make expressions (half her face looked like those Barbie dolls Shane Dawson used to incinerate back on old YouTube). You inspected her closer. She definitely needed some Accutane treatment, cause apparently everyone ALL gave up skincare this year. 

"Sadjksfjdksjc," she snarled again, "sdfhjdsf, sdfhuwjsjioisd?" 

"Girl, I don't know," you replied, sassy. "I don't know what the fuck you're saying, to be honest."

"Sjdklasjfoijdjdisjfids," she mumbled.  

"Girl, speak the fuck up!"

The zombie huffed. "SJDJDFSAFIDSD!!!!" She put her hands on her waist, annoyed too.

You felt bad. You genuinely had no idea what she was saying, and it didn't sound like it ended in anything you could just reply with a quick and safe, 'yeah' or 'thank you' to. You couldn't even fake laugh. Awkward. Awco fucking taco. 

You two just stood there, face to face. A little standoff, perhaps? 

This encounter reminded you of the first time you encountered one of these girlies. It was on your walk home after you left your White Lotus resort from your month long stay....

"Ghrskjdsksfs," the girlie said from behind. It made you jump.

"OH MY GOD!" you yelled, both out of fear of her popping out of nowhere and of course, her appearance. "Girl, I don't wanna be rude, but you look BUSTED as fuck!"

She didn't respond. You soon found out she took offense to that.

She began to follow and chase you all the way home and up to your doorstep. High key on some harassment shit. You had to barricade yourself in, cause girl was trying to hug you or something and you love being nice to strangers but didn't wanna contract bed bugs, so you pushed the bitch down the porch in time for you to lock that door. She fucked up your Ring camera too from banging on the door, so shit was personal. 

You did NOT want to get physical with this girl now, but if push comes to shove, LITERALLY, then it'll have to do. 

And that was your mindset from then on. Anyway, back to the Western standoff:

"Okay, girl, look just back the fuck up, okay?" you warned. "I'm being like - soooo serious right now." 

You turned back around and continued down, a little hurriedly and checking behind yourself a little more often, but that girl got the memo. For a few more blocks, she was out of sight. 

You hated being rude, but, that's what being a girl entails sometimes.

"Horror nights came a little early this year," you told yourself, shaking your head, "some people don't have any self-awareness at all. So sad." 

Finally making it, you saw the big ass red target signaling it was a Target up above, with some extra cute greenery and mold growing inside of it. You liked the whole post-apocalyptic aesthetic, actually, but we keep that to ourselves. Other people's disadvantages are not cute to make an aesthetic out of, after all.

Inside, shit was ran SACKED. Others had gotten there before, the shelves wiped clean (figuratively, cause the shelves were filthy). It gave you STRONG COVID flashbacks. But, you were not here for toilet paper, you were here for FOOD, remember? 

You went to the back, avoiding broken pieces of glass and other unidentifiable and possibly tetanus-infested objects, looking for the produce and dairy section. It smelled of dampness and poop. Not great. 

"While I'm here, I wonder if they have some tampons, maybe? Actually, maybe they have some ZYN?" you wondered. After all, no one was readily available to supply you with an Elf Bar, your original being LONG dead. A girl still needed to tell her nicotine craving to chill out. You weighed your options: 

Having reciting gums > not having ZYN

Hmm.

Yeah.

Options seemed to talk for themselves. 

Anyway, you kept searching for any remnants of a SEALED package of food, but, unfortunately, there was none. If there were, it was moldy to the house boots down and def not edible to most people. You rummaged through and through, over and over - nothing. 

You took a deep, shaky breath in, feeling those panicky tears coming in, your hunger more unbearable. 

"Dude it's that, it's that I'm about to lose my fucking mind, bro," you mumbled manically to yourself as you continued to rummage like a raccoon. This made you sympathize with them, those girls live hard lives. If you were RJ, you would've stolen that bear's food too.

You picked through the remaining bags, inspecting the see-through plastic while holding it like it was an object from Chernobyl - at the very tip with the most minimal amount of skin to package contact possible. You held them up to the light and god forgive you, gave them a little sniff. When you made that mistake once, you assured maybe it was best not to do it again, the mildew-rotting scent so horridly offensive to your nasal passage that it nearly catapulted you into the ether. 

You sat down, ready to welcome that panic attack breakdown, but soon shot yourself up after smacking your ass right into a cold septic puddle of rainwater (or so you hoped) dripping from the rotted ceiling. In just in your "I <3 ORLANDO" Spongebob-themed PJ shorts, you were never more sure that you just contracted yourself a yeast infection. And by the way you also caught a glimpse of your hair in the reflection of the puddle. 

And this was it. 

You broke. 

Your hair looked like Beetlejuice. 

You looked like Beetlejuice.

YOU LOOKED LIKE BEETLEJUICE?!?!?!?

"I'm losing my mind? I'm losing my mind. THIS IS SO FUCKED!" you exclaimed, oddly enough in the exact likeness of Shane Dawson's freakout in that one instagram live reacting to Tati Westbrook's YouTube video. (What's with Shane today?) "Oh my god? Oh my god?"

You were manic. This was it. This was it - 

But wait - you forgot the canned food section? 

A lone Chef Boyardee ravioli sat on the shelf, waiting, seemingly, just for you. She looked beautiful. Stunning. Heavenly. 

You feverishly snatched the fuck out of that can, and in such power popped the lid off wide open, the colors of that red tomato sauce and surfacing ravioli packets swimming delightedly. You did it. You tapped into your inner Neanderthal, strength and all.

You downed that shit all in one go, feeling its room temperature-ness sink from your throat down to your intestines, down past that lodged Polly Pocket dress, into the acidic pit of your belly. You felt all your stomach cells jump collectively with such joy, imagining the cheering sounding just like what Horton heard on that speck. 

You smiled so happily and genuine, with the exact likeness of Mark Weins. 

You moaned, quite audibly. It was delectable. 

You had to hit it, you NEEDED to hit it, just like Mark - 

"Mmm, woooowwAAAGAHAHAH - "

"- SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECHCCHCHCHHCHHC CRAASH BOOMMOMSMDF JSAFJSDSFHSJDHFJS - "

" - OH SHI -"

-You ragdolled onto the floor -

"- WHAT THE FU -"

-Fragments of cement bursted all around you -

"-BRO WHA-"

-You went blind-

And then, it was all silent.

Your moment of bliss completely evaporated, by a blue pick-up crashing into the Target, right into the produce and dairy section you were in seconds before, in another world...

Your ears rang, you were covered in dust, with the remaining red Chef Boyardee sauce all up on your face. 

The entire building SHOOK with more pebbles and asbestos from the roof dropped onto the floor, along with the rattling of the glass windows.

The sound of insane gunfire soon followed. 

You remained soldier-style onto the ground, like one taking it for the team by taking in all the impact of a land mind, belly to the ground. Though you couldn't see it what was happening, your soy face was NASTY. 

"Bro whaaatttt????" you whispered. "All this for toilet paper????" 

"TA-TATA-ATATATATATA," said the gunfire. "PPAPAPAATATATATTAAAA!!!!"

You crouched up, peering a little outside, to see a car on fire, along with more of that loud ass fucking gunfire and people ducking for cover. Shit was a real Call of Duty game. Shit was a real war zone. You were stupefied, stunned, SAT! Then, to the right -

"SCREEEECHCHCHHCHHCHCH BOOOF BOOOM PAPRATATATATA!!!!" More cars whipped around the corner outside, like for real Fast and Furious shit! 

"Uh," you thought to yourself, no longer wanting to watch like a noisy pedestrian, "uhhhhhh, yeah this ain't for me. A girl like me is NOT supposed to be here! This ain't my business! War is for boys <3"

You quickly made a go for the exit, only to find it blocked by some grown ass man and child. They quickly clocked you, safe to say, both parties knowing that seeing another person this close right now is not a great sign. 

The man pointed his gun to you as he stayed down with the girl, avoiding the incoming shots. 

"Wait, THEY'RE the ones being shot at?" you realized, "nah bro I'm good."

"Oh, don't mind me!" you quickly said in your sweet, customer service voice, "I'm just gonna, gonna go ahead and, yeah," you inched closer to the back door and saw yourself out to the alleyway behind the place, managing to casually dodge every incoming bullet at you by a hair. After shutting that shit behind you, you stood straighter, dusted some of the dust off, and thought it best to go on back home and pretend that nothing happened, as always.

You actually ended up knocking out NASTY in the alleyway. Like, unbeknownst to you, multiple of those fungus girls walked by you thinking you were already dead. 

You stirred, delirious and confused, like an old person snapping out of a moment's dementia. It was nearing sundown by now, with the sunset casting its glow on the desolate alley buildings. 

You rubbed your slept-swollen face after you cranked yourself up with shaky ass arms, genuinely trying to remember the events that brought you here in the first place. You were like a shell-shocked vet. 

"Bro...where the fuck....?" you looked around, trying to piece everything together - but you thought that might be too much work, so you opted to doing your own version of the Irish goodbye and leaving without addressing the previous events <3. 

"I get those frat boys. Last night really WAS a movie," you thought as you walked out of the alley, looking left and right trying to remember how the fuck you were gonna take your ass back now - like NOW cause nighttime is not the place to be around these girlies. You played Minecraft. You knew the vibe. They seemed to be more rabid and unpredictable, which safe to say, is NOT your fave combo. You could so fuck up a bag of Combo's right now.

You dusted more dirt from your SpongeBob shorts, and tried to fix your botched hair, but was briefly and heavily distracted by a dust particle getting into your eye - causing such emergency and panic. 

"Oh fuck oh fuck no get out get OUT!" you worried, trying to pry whatever foreign conspirator of a dust particle that was currently committing espionage in your eye socket, albeit looking quite disturbing doing so. 

After prying that bitch out, you wiped your face and to your fucking dismay, spotted red stains all up on your hands. Your heart fell to the empty distilled pits of your stomach, to the pits of your gooch - 

"IS THAT FUCKING BLOOD? OH MY GOD AM I FUCKING, LIKE, HURT?!" you freaked - you were quite literally wounded in battle. You took a sniff. "Oh, just tomato sauce. I'm so silly!" 

You smiled to yourself happily, slowly remembering that ravioli - the one highlight of this mess. Your tummy rumbled. 

"If only there was a cart full of foo - oh my god there's one right there," in front of you was a shopping cart that apparently spawned out of nowhere filled with goodies. Literally perfect!

You approached it, mesmerized by its contents - more canned ravioli, Dolly Parton's buttercream frosting, a tub of fresh watermelon, some bags of gummy worms, some bags of Wingstop wings (with fries and ranch!), tubs of water (of which you credited this random shopping cart being sent from some higher power because it wasn't Dasani or Zephryhill), Combo's and, perhaps most importantly, a jar of spear dill pickles. 

You could've cried. 

And you did. 

But you stopped after like ten seconds because remember it's nighttime a girl needs to GO!

You took that shopping cart and began walking down the scene where that Fast and Furious ass scene went down, now lifeless of any activity but bullet-riddled crashed cars, piles of broken cement, dead bodies, and random spouts of smoke. You felt like just a girl, walking down an average street in New York, living a single, nepo-fueled and quaint life. 

"If only I had my headphones," you thought, now saddened that your phone and sound-proof headphones had been long-dead. "I LITERALLY pay my fucking bills, like?" 

You continued walking, just a girl with her shopping cart, when you spotted a clearing in some forest area, which seemed very familiar to you. 

"Lowkey, I think this is a short-cut to my house?" you said to someone, apparently. (There's no one around you but that's never stopped you.)

You went down into the wood, like a girl with just her shopping cart going through a magical Studio-Ghibli-esque forest that sprouted between two demolished buildings into some portal into the spirit world. Though it was pretty difficult to push the lowkey-broken shopping cart on anything but flat flooring, causing you to have some bouts of intolerable anger so powerful it helped you yank the wheels stuck on uprooted roots, you thought, "hey, things could lowkey be worse? Like, let's just remember what Vanessa Hudgens said, 'Like, yeah, people are gonna die which is terrible but like...inevitable?' "

And people did die, BUT, you did have Wingstop fries, so. 

And now, it wasn't just a whole shopping cart of goodies that you would return home with, but some granola?!

A pile of perfectly placed granola sat pretty on the ground in front of you, with some berries and yogurt bits scattered in - just fucking delicious and any vegan mommy's dreams.

"Oh my god," your mouth salivating, inhumanely - a Kubrick stare fell over your face as you eyed the fuck out of that horse feed.

"I could lowkey fuck UP some granola," your stomach said, the only decipherable thing she's said in a loooooooong time. Long time.

When you clocked out of your gaze, you walked on over, ready to scoop up the entire pile, relishing in the self-fulfillment and satisfaction you imagined was what those Neanderthals felt way back when. This little hunting and gathering thing we got going on here? Ain't that hard. 

You stood over it, grabbing the pile that happened to be conveniently sitting on a plastic mat, attached with some strings that went places you didn't really give a fuck to know about. All that mattered, was that the stars were aligned for you tonight, the moon must've been in your favor. You didn't need a tarot reader to know that life, well, was good now. Life laugh love even through apocalypse <3

"Man, mama eaten GOOOOOOD tonight!" you bellowed, giggling, dancing slightly back and forth like the fat ass you are, "I wondered if the Neanderthals ever dabbled in a little grano - "

"Grhasjdhfsdsknfjs."

You froze. 

Ain't. No. Fucking. Way. 

You looked up slowly. 

"Biiiiitccchhhhhh," you said, in disbelief. 

"Grajsdhfsajdsk," she said, more sassier than ever. 

"No - NO! This is MINE!" you warned the same fungus girl from earlier. She stood, several feet away, creepily standing in the dark now that the sun was pretty much set. Let's just say, HELLA liminal spaces-core. HELLA ominous with it.

She didn't reply. Instead, she began creeping closer to you, looking at you up and down like an old man checking out a girl walking by who HAPPENS to be in a tank top. You loved your LGBTQ+, but girl needed to be a little smoother in her approach! 

"No. Back off NOW!" you shot back, now standing straighter. After some time out in this life, you learned it's best to approach these girls like you would a bear, if, ideally, you were able to keep yourself calm enough so much so you could think clearly - just stand straight and tall. Stand your GROUND stand your GRANOLA if you will. 

"I'm warning you, girl. No means no. I found it first, fair and fucking square." 

She kept coming, now closer than ever. She wasn't taking no for an answer. You almost gagged at her peeling face, icked the fuck out, but didn't wanna be THAT outwardly rude. She was looking you up and DOWN. (It admittedly boosted your ego up a little, like, were you lowkey hot right now?)

It was clear she wasn't backing down. Your bear tactic went down the toilet. 

She began running. 

Full. 

Speed. 

"Jesus, fine we can share, girl, okay?"

Let's just say, she meant business. Bitch was about to pimp-slap you across the face for that granola. 

"Bro it's that I said we could shaAAAAAAAAAAA - "

But itt was too quick. Too sudden. 

One moment you were about to post-up with the fungus tweaker and the next you were plummeted to the ground by an unseeable force, every ounce of wind pushed out from every crevice of your body, the granola popping into the air like confetti that became shrapnel against the fungus girl, lodging itself into her already fucked-up face.

You gasped for air, in complete shock, whatever force holding you down to the ground - you looked up to see what actual 200+ pound of muscle football fuck just tackled you. Is the granola like the football right now? Did you just touchdown or whatever right now? 

It was him - the same guy from earlier. 

You were too exasperated to speak, literally non-verbal. All he saw were your wide ass eyes, gaping open mouth begging for air like a fish out of water (fish don't breath air, little fun fact! :D) and Beetlejuice hairdo, some tomato sauce still crusted around your lips. 

He suddenly lifted himself up, whipped out a bat from his side and beat that fungus girl to DEATH. Like, BEAT. 

"Oh fffff - uckaaaa," you were able to muster, "there go my Chiro sessions -" 

You rose up, struggling, feeling physically and spiritually like a stomped-on roach, watching this man absolutely go ballistic on the girl. She wasn't even identifiable anymore, just a big mess of red gross goo and shit. 

The little girl from earlier stood closely, like you, just completely entranced with the very ugly and quite frankly inappropriate violence for a child like her to be witnessing. It was like the Reddit 50/50 challenge all over again. (P.S. so like if you look up what that challenge is DON'T press images like I absentmindedly just did literally right after typing that to see if it was still up - Sam <3).

After he was done wailing, he stood straight, caught his breath, bringing himself back to reality from that outburst. He wiped blood off his dome and looked to you, a face of both complete disappointment and disgust that only comes with a man 50 and up. 

Your short-tempered, therapist-diagnosed anger flew over you - physically raging like a boy who got his house blown up by a creeper in Minecraft. Again, what did we say about nighttime???

"You. Fucking. DICK!!!!" you spat, your control now completely lost, "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH IT FUCKING COSTS FOR A CHIRO SESSION?! DON'T YOU KNOW THEY DON'T EVEN EXIST ANYMORE, APPARENTLY?!??! DO I LOOK LIKE TRAVIS KELCE?!?!? DO I LOOK LIKE A QUARTER POUNDER OR WHATEVER THE FUCK?!?! ARE YOU TRYING TO ROLE PLAY AS TAYLOR WHEN THE CHIEFS WON?! I AIN'T A FUCKING SWIFTIE LIKE THAT!!!!!!"

After your spewing, you took a deep breath. It felt pretty good, you even smiled. 

His face fell. 

"Are you fucking crazy?" he bellowed back, "Are you out of your mind?! What were you thinking?!"

"I was literally JUST sharing food. I had that handled. I was like, breaking - breaking bad. Like Jesus..?" you knew there was something wrong there. Now you felt embarrassed. "No, wait - that's bread. Whatever fuck it I FUCKED THAT UP! But I'm NOT meth head, I'm NOT LIKE HER!" you pointed at the now mass of flesh and fungi. Gross. 

"I just saved your fucking life," he now came in close, towering over you and pointing, intimidating and furious. His southern drawl was in full action. (Uh oh you found this hot little does he know). "That granola back there was a fucking deer trap!" 

"Well," you started, biting your tongue like a mom, "it seems you've trapped my 'deer' ol' hear -" 

The girl stepped forward before you could finish that not well-timed flirt. "Wait, aren't you from the supermarket? Earlier?" she asks, now laughing, "That was crazy!" 

"Ellie, don't." The man stepped back, guarding the girl from you. He was weary. "Who are you?"

"I'm me," you said, arms crossed, unplucked and overgrown eyebrows raised. "Who are you?"

"Joel....?" the girl named Ellie said, worriedly. He seemed to chill out a bit. He looked over to her with a face that read: Don't worry. I know this bimbo means no harm." 

During that moment, you really took the scene in - and that scene? This man in front of you with the hick ass name Joel. Joel? Well, 

"Why he kindaaaaaa," BOTH sides of your brain said. "No, no I can't. Not here and not again, like time and place," you thought to yourself, but unbeknownst to you you said aloud. Safe to say, they looked at you oddly.

But you couldn't control your thoughts or your emotions. They are, after all, your thoughts and emotions which are usually, like Vanessa said, inevitable? 

He was tall, burly, and graying - with such a masculine aura it was insane. The strong, silent types, as your ex-boyfriend/ex-sugar daddy, Tony Soprano, would've adored. His whole rugged look - dirt on the face, unkept hair and facial hair, tired eyes, somewhat smelly...

Then it hit you. 

Is this it? 

Is this him? 

Is this your RICK?????

You didn't realize it, but you were staring. Not in the Kubrick this-bitch-fucking-crazy way, but in the, this-bitch-out-of-it way. You shook yourself back to reality. If you were going to bag this man, you needed to act indifferent. 

A moment went by, no one spoke.

"Well.... y'all gonna eat this?" you asked, motioning to all the scattered granola.

They didn't reply.

"Okay slay!" You bent down to start picking up all the pieces. You weren't, after all, gonna let all that go to waste like these bozos would. 

You popped one in your mouth, chomping that stale piece. "Mmmm. Mhm. Yeah. Sprout's. Def." 

You continued to pick them up, the man named Joel now scoffing in disbelief of the situation. You perked up and turned to the Ellie girl. "Hey girlie, you want?" 

Ellie the girl happily grabbed some, chewing on it for what looked like the first time. You were confused, judging, but thought it best to not judge. 

"Ggrjsdfjsakjdfska."

All three of you stood straight, frozen. 

Another fungus bitch pulled up, arms out and perked up at the sight of y'all - his possible little buffet. He had on a Vineyard Vines t-shirt and a pair of Sperry's. In summation? Ugly. His face was also fucked up.

"Oh, my god," you said, over it, "what ever happened to finders fucking keepers? Y'all getting on my damn NERVES! Hold this girl," you passed the collected granola into Ellie's arms. Joel, getting prepped to probably curb stomp this once-private and probably racist schoolboy, soon stopped once he saw you step up to the ring. 

As mentioned before, you never liked to resort to violence, but there comes a time...

You grabbed that zombie by the hair, and began to wail on it with one punch after another, grabbing it's man-bun ponytail and slamming its body onto the ground, continuing to obliterate it's my-daddy-has-a-boat ass, completely disassociating with anger. 

Joel and Ellie watched in both horror and amazement at your abilities. 

"You fucking bitch back the FUCK off bro!" you muttered. The last time you fought with this same manner and vigor was in the school bathrooms over a juul. Those cookie-monster PJ pants girls taught you well. 

Once you landed him in an induced coma, you rose up, took in a deep breath and searched his Bermuda short's side pockets, feeling for the all familiar shape. And there she was. 

You pulled it out - there she was in all her beauty. 

"Speaking of!" you said, examining the blueberry fume. As mentioned, it was just like those bathroom fights. "Yes YES! I used to know a girl who FUCKED these up! I just KNEW he'd carry!" 

Just then, the rich boy moved. You clocked it, and kicked it on its side. It rose and quickly ran off, frightened, as you continued to yell some more obscenities. You hit the fume - shit was still kicking. 

You turned back. "Sorry guys, I'm just, I try to be patient with them, and I am, don't get me wrong. I know COVID has everyone acting, you know, off their shit but," you looked to the now deceased fungus tweaker. "Poor girl. She just wanted some granola bits." 

Joel furrowed his brows, very confused. "Why would you be 'patient' with them? They're infected!" 

"Hey! That's not a nice way to characterize victims of diseases - drugs are real, like don't you know about fenty? And I'm not even talking about Rihan -"

"They're runners! They're not human!"

You turned back to the limping 'runner', now confused too. 

"Runners?" you asked, turning back. 

Joel nodded. "Yeah. Infected. Undead." 

"You mean, like, zombies?"

Joel took a minute, seemingly embarrassed that he hadn't thought of something so obvious as that sooner. 

"You know," you shrugged, tired, blowing out an obnoxious cloud of smoke from the fume, a cloud, if you will, "they're just going through it." 

Ellie looked to Joel, unsure of what to make of your comments. 

It was now nighttime, and after massively failing to locate or find your way back home, Joel, out of pity that you were a bit of a bimbo, allowed you to stay with them for one night. 

You all were camped (ew I know) in the middle of a forest, it was pitch black outside all except for the small fire in front of you all where Joel had baked beans cooking. Apparently, your perfect shopping cart with the goodies vaporized into the air, because it was nowhere in sight after the whole shabackle and hubbub. Joel suggested in a, what you swore was, passive-aggressive way, that you were so starved you began hallucinating it. You knew that was most probably the case but would've rather eat a fungus off one of those 'runners' or whatever's faces than admit that. And you would've, again, rather eat that toe fungus than mentioned your probable house's carbon dioxide leakage.

Anyway, back to the scene - Ellie is knocked out in her sleeping bag, leaving you and Joel to sit across from each other in a pretty awkward silence as you ate those gross ass beans. There were some moments you caught yourself about to complain about them and claim they tasted like 'dick', but thought it best not to. But, you needed to say something about this, you couldn't just hold it in. 

"How's the beans?" Joel asked, quietly and moodily as usual.

"Tbh," you said, the first thing spoken in like an hour, "...I just want, like, sushi, man."

His face fell a bit.

"But this isn't bad! Trust me!" you quickly tried saving yourself, feeling very quite bad, "look, I've had beans in England. Some say the bean capital of the world, there's literally a dude from there named Mr. Bean. And this is so much better."

He was too confused to reply.

You felt a fly buzz by your ear - one of your number one hated sensories to be crossed - and smacked it. You HATED the outdoors too, as much as you hated these beans. It reminded you of when you had exited your home after months being inside and how quickly that 'touching-grass' shit got old. 

But still, no complaining. 

You glanced over at him, and you couldn't help but think - man this dude looks familiar. Very familiar. You weren't sure if it's just cause you haven't seen another person in some time, or in this case, another man in so long that your brain basically said: "man = every other man" and that's the reason you thought he looked 'familiar'. But, no, no - you'd SEEN this man before. Did you have a dream about him? No, that was Rick. Actually, now that you thought about it, he lowkey looked like some of your ex's? 

"What's your name?" you asked, trying to break the awkward silence. You knew, but had forgotten. 

He hesitated, his grumpy ass chewing on those beans. "Joel. Joel Miller." 

"Oh my god, you're real?" And that was it - THAT'S why he looked familiar! "I literally wrote a fan fiction about you in class, and submitted that as my final! Everything really does come full circle when you think about it." You went back to eating your beans, waiting for him to respond, which he didn't really do a lot. You thought it best to move on. 

"Well, Joel. Can I tell you something?" 

He hesitated again, a little longer. "What?"

"So like, I've only been out here for like, a week? Or two? To be honest I don't remember. Could be a month, but like, what happened?"

"What do you mean what happened?" that southern drawl coming out more now that he was annoyed/mad that you'd even ask a question like that. 

You shrugged and looked around. "Like, all this?" you said, obviously. 

He let out a tired breath.

"Well, there were this fungu -"

Just as he was about to explain, you interrupted, unknowingly, going on more about your cluelessness. 

" - Like, one minute I'm in a resort, you know, the White Lotus one, sipping marg's on the beach, for like a month? My ex-boyfriend slash sugar daddy at the time, AND I only say ex cause he hasn't gotten back to me since all this shit happened so I just assumed he broke it off with me but whatever, that's not the point, Tony - Tony's his name - paid for my stay. It was great, I was living pretty, you know, lavishly? VERY lavishly, actually. I was tanning, being massaged, going through a whole cleanse, you know? No phone, no internet. I had a bunch of books recommendations from TikTok, but to be honest I didn't really read them cause the words just don't process, you know? You just need to bring it with you to make people THINK you read, you know? Anyway, I'm there, and who do I see? Fucking Jared Leto! Yeah, that creepy ass bitch! He had his whole cult there, like they're weird Jonestown retreat or whatever, and I wanted to join cause it looked fun but I knew I probably couldn't be married to him, you know, how all those cult leaders are. Anyway whatever, it was great. I was having a great time, Big Ange was even there and she left me her green glasses and I've been meaning to give them back to her - "

"- Where'd you say you were staying at again?"

"White Lotus? In Jersey?"

"There's a beach resort in Jersey?"

"No, I know what you mean. It's where Tony was from, but it's a faux beach. The beach? It's faux. Stops the smell of rotting 'whacked' bodies, you know, cause that's not very resort like?"

He nodded, he understood. 

"Yeah. Anyway," you said, annoyed he interrupted you, "I'm there, in my room, sleeping, and there's a knock at my door. I go and it's the lobby guy or whatever, he's like rushing me out telling me about how my stay is over cause there's a cold going around and I have to leave, like? I'm sorry, I paid - well Tony paid - for the whole month and a half? But what am I gonna do, you know? So I'm like fine fucking party poopers, and they kick me out, like a fucking cartoon, down the steps of the place and toss my luggage. At first I was mad, cause like, what's a little cold? And then I look outside where they kicked me out and the world is like, over? Everything ended? Over a fucking cold? Shit was like, demolished. And then they shut the door behind me leaving me to fend for myself, like I'm sorry? Do I look like Bear Grylls? Do I look like 'Survivor'? Like I got this shit handled? So whatever, I walked back home and let's just say: Culture. Shock. Insane. Like, whaaattttt? Covid was worse than I thought! Then I get home, my power's out, my water, everything. And shit was DIRTY! Like as if I'd been gone for twenty fucking years. I couldn't check Twitter or anything, it wasn't loading so I couldn't find out what the big deal was. Like, guys, can we talk about the political and economic state of the world right now? AND I had a blister on my toe from the walk! It sucked!" 

(Told you we'd revisit! Now, we're revisited!)

Once you were finished with your impromptu story time, Joel intently listening, he went onto explain after the whole lore of the political and economic state of the world right now, how it wasn't even political or economic, just a virus. Shit was crazy. Fungus, coffee beans and spinach, Fire fly people, rations, explosions, the whole deal. You were tapped in, realizing you didn't space out cause he was just so fine to look out you genuinely cared about what he had to say. And he said it. 

A sullenness came over him, and you hated to say - it was pretty hot. But time and place! It just occurred to you that he didn't seem like the type to open up, so him being vulnerable just made you think, wow, he's a human! And he's hot! 

After he finished, there was a sad silence in the air. 

"Man....covid really was worse than I thought," you replied. 

"Now do you get it? They're not real people or 'girlies'. They're infected," he said. "Do you have any experience with them? Besides the one you beat on and scared away today?"

"What makes you think I don't have any experience?" you replied, with a little flirtatious-sass in your voice. You knew you didn't have experience. 

"Cause no experienced person would have willingly beaten up an infected the way you did without fear of being scratched or bit. It was reckless and stupid what you did."

"Yeah but I fucked his ass up," you said, hyping yourself up in the process. "But lol you're kinda right. Nah, yeah the most experience I have with zombies is Black Ops. Those bitches give me the heeby JEEBIES!" 

"You think this Tony is still alive?"

"I don't know, actually," you said. "We got into a pretty bad argument before I left, that's why I left, you know, to the resort, for some space and a break between each other. So I doubt he'd call me back now." 

"What about?"

"He's like a big animal guy, you know? Whatever, his fucking horse died and I literally didn't know, no one told me. There was a candle lit at the vet when they were putting him down and I was like, as a joke, 'guys! It's lit right now!' and he was all like, 'what he fuck is wrong with you?'. He was annnnggrryyyyyyy. I didn't read the paper beside the candle saying to be quiet, that they were putting it down," you said, shrugging. "Really sad. She was a pretty horse, you know? Cunty." 

Joel nodded. This was all a very serious affair for him. It bummed you out, everything was so serious and sad out here. 

"So these zombies aren't girl's girls after all? They're like, anti-girlies?" you asked, mainly as a statement of fact you were coming to terms with rather than a question. 

"I guess so," he said. "Whatever the fuck that means," he also said, not as audible. That explosion earlier left you more partially deaf. 

He looked down and continued to fiddle and play with his beans with his fork, not taking much interest in his appetite anymore.  There was a moment of silence between you guys, more comfortable than before. You both felt the bond of this shared experience bring you guys together a bit, in this very moment. He didn't feel much of a stranger anymore, and neither did you to him. You felt, truly, he was a man who lost something too...

The solemness on him, again you hated to admit, you found very attractive. EXTREMELY attractive, actually. The last time you saw a relatively attractive man was months ago at the resort, and he was, unfortunately, (but not unfortunately for the gays) a gay man. RIP ARMAND <3. So safe to say, you were rabidly horndogging. He was the type of man that has a LOT of shit going on, but doesn't talk about it, but DOES look like it. 

But you knew how to handle this - it wasn't your first rodeo. 

"So are you, like, single, orrr...?" you asked, sheepishly, acting like you are so not trying to get at him right now. 

"Why do you ask?" he replied, somewhat guarded. 

"Well cause you got a daughter and all, like is there a wife orrr - ?"

" - She's not my daughter." 

"Damn. Okay. So you're like babysitting orrr?"

He thought for a moment. "Sure," he replied, cautiously. 

"Man, you're just triggering my daddy issues!" you joked but it horrendously didn't land, "just kidding!" You giggled, casually and nervously. What happened to time and place?

TIME JUMP!!!!!

Remember how I said Joel just let you stay with them for one night? Well now it's been like six months and you're halfway across the country, in another truck! Yay!

Despite him giving clear signs that you two were to part, (not wanting to outright DIRECTLY say so cause he didn't wanna be rude), it was clear you weren't able to those read social cues that well. (Actually, you did, you read them quite well, but wanted to pretend not to because he was now your Rick and you lowkey mentally imprinted on him on some Twilight shit). He eventually gave up all hope, pitying you in a way. The only positive he saw was how you did all the talking with Ellie, since his ass is basically mute.

You became a sort of bigger sister/cool aunt for her, which you ate the fuck up. You had to fill her in on EVERYTHING: the Dramageddon lore, the Challengers summer experience, Ariana Grande/Spongebob fiasco, Kendrick v. Drake beef, Jojo's Karma's a Bitch and how she's the first self-proclaimed lesbian to ever exist, Colleen Ballinger's ukulele apology, finding out about the Queen's death and Twitter, the Montgomery riverfront fight, and more that aren't too important to mention. You thought it best to fill her in on shit a girl her age would fuck up, like what kid cares about the political and economic state of the world right now? Anyway you two got along very well, she made you giggle and you made her giggle, the perfect vibe! Joel lowkey admired you for, (and found it hot), the way you were with her. What could you say? All those years in early childhood back in high school meant something after all! Not just D grades and getting caught with a cart in your backpack!

Speaking of Joel, he definitely wouldn't show it, but like I said, he began to like you a bit. Actually, fuck that middle school shit and 'liking' - he began to FALL for you! On some romantic period piece shit! And who wouldn't? Besides those moldy Spongebob shorts, crusty yet fast Lightening McQueen Crocs and Beetlejuice hair, you were a natural beauty! Girl you were bad asf!!!!

Now in another pick-up, y'all were moving cross cuntry. You had your feet out the window, letting them get that breeze as you watched the Microsoft Windows default wallpaper-esque landscape pass on by. Ellie was in the back reading her nerd ass comic books, while Joel drove, of course, in silence. You were literally his passenger princess. If only you had a phone and AUX, cause your Spotify roadtrip playlist would so hit right now.

But again, what's in Ohio?

All you knew, was that they needed to get to Ohio. What's in Ohio? Who the fuck knows. Logan Paul? London? Yes, there's a London in Ohio, you knew that all to well when you accidentally booked a flight there instead of the actual London in England high off a Benadryl pill. But you wouldn't mention that to Joel.

You weren't sure what the fuck was up with Ohio, all he said was that they needed to get there. You thought it best not to question too much, afraid of losing that passenger princess spot.

(hey! it's Sam and my dumbass just realized that it's Utah they're going to, not Ohio. Apparently they wanna meet up with the Mormons, not Prime's own, Logan Paul. Whatever same hick ass states anyway I'm not gonna change it so proceed!)

"I wish I had my phone or AUX right now," you said, sadly. "I have this Spotify roadtrip playlist that would sooooo hit right now."

He gave you a side eye, his normal response.

"What song would you play?" Ellie asked.

"Hmm, let me think," you said, now thinking. "Probably like, Lana's cover of 'Take Me Home, Country Roads'? You know, cause we're like on country roads right now."

Joel gave you another side eye. You peeped. This was a perfect prying moment!

"Do you know that song?" you asked Joel. Y'all barely spoke anything personal (actually, YOU spoke at lengths, without being asked, about your personal stuff, but not vice versa. He was a great listener, though).

"Yeah. I know it," he said, quietly. You knew there was more.

Just as you were about to say something, he interrupted.

"But I don't know who that 'Lana' is."

"Oh, Joel, you'd fuck UP Lana! She's like the bridge between girlies and middle-aged men, not for the same reasons but a bridge nonetheless!"

You all then began to talk about music, but it usually involved just you and Ellie pairing up to bully, in a friendly way, Joel. It was fun to make fun of him, in a friendly way. You got so much enjoyment out of bugging these grown ass men, cause their egos were so fragile. You also just kind of found it hot that you could do that, with Joel as NO exception.

As mentioned before, he was very quiet. And you're a talker. See the problem? You were waiting for the right moment, when after all this buildup and trust would, well, buildup into trust, enough for him to open up to you. And when that day comes, it won't be just his mouth opening up!

You also got pretty good at learning how to defend yourself against the zombie girlies. Not that you didn't know before, but now, with Joel's help, you were able to take down multiple at once. You ate that shit up, feeling like one of those hot Resident Evil characters. Joel was even impressed, which made you pretend more like it was 'no biggie' as you'd usually say. What you didn't say, of course, was how your asshole clenched from fear every time you saw one and how you ached all over from fighting! But why would you?! Appearances are lowkey everything!!

The skyline of the city finally came into view. Fuck if you knew which city it was, you lost track. Your stomach rumbled. You cradled it as if you were "so I'm thirty-four weeks today", softly and longingly. You needed to eat. The rumble was loud, causing Joel to look over.

"You okay?"

"Does it sound like it? I'm hungry," you said. "Where's my fume?" You began to pat yourself down for that appetite suppressant, having an addict's moment of panic that you may have lost it. You didn't, she just thought she'd be funny and slip between the cracks of the chair and armrest. You pulled that bitch out and envisioned it was a Five Guy's cheeseburger as you inhaled that faux blueberry chemical.

"Guys, what's this?" Ellie asked, reaching over to the front, pointing to a roll of sushi illustrated in her comic. You didn't know Batman had time to eat sushi, but,

"Oh, FUCK!" you bellowed. "Sorry, Ellie. Excuse my French. I could so eat that right now."

You then caught a glimpse of a rather large scar on her forearm. Shit looked crazy.

"Uh, Ellie," you said. "I don't wanna like, overstep or be rude, I know it's none of my business."

Joel and Ellie suddenly tensed up. At this moment, they both knew the mistake Ellie had just made. You didn't, of course, which was why they were concerned.

Ellie backed up softly, quickly covering up her scar. Joel shifted in his seat.

"Uh, yeah? What is it?" Ellie asked wearily.

"That scar," you said.

Ellie gulped. Joel tightened his grip on the wheel.

"You should slap some scar cream on that. Like, Mederma? Ever heard of it?"

"Mederma?" Ellie asked.

Joel let out a relieved breath. He raked his hand through his hair, self-soothingly. They were good. Thank god for your lack of social cues.

"It's, uh, a scar cream," Joel answered lowly.

"It helps, trust. Once, I was on a city bike in Miami Beach, fell right onto the concrete and ate shit. It was bad, but once that scar closed, I lathered that cream on, and that's it. Now I don't even remember where the scar is. The doctor said it was from memory loss after smacking my head on the ground, but I really think it was the Mederma. So yeah. Get some if you can," you said.

"Uh huh. Okay," Ellie said. She wasn't really listening, instead trying to relax herself from you almost finding out about what was really in Ohio (Utah). And you wanna know something? It's not Logan Paul (Mormons).

"Anyway, yeah that food? It's sushi. It's sooooo good. So good," you said, reminiscing about those rolls. "So good. So so sooooo good."

"What's sushi?"

"Anything you want it to be, honestly. But usually fish," you said.

You took a moment.

"FUCK!" you yelled again, the anger of craving sushi so animalistic, "Sorry, sorry. I just, I just really want sushi. I wish you could try it Ellie, I think you'd like it. Joel, do you like sushi?"

"Never had it."

"What?"

"I've never had it."

"How have you never had sushi?"

"I just haven't."

"Well, you should."

"I can't."

"Why not? You allergic to fish?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Cause we're in a goddamn apocalypse," he replied, this time quite irritated.

"Well, if you do, let me know. I want a piece," you said, a little sassy, looking back out the window.

He then turned to give you a hard look. It was a mix of anger and confusion, the usual.

"You know," he started, trying to think of the words, "you're weir -"

" - JOEL WATCH OUT!!!!!!!"

Joel shot his head straight forward, to see a zombie standing in the middle of the road.

BAMBOOMSD AHSDFJKASJDFKSJSKLDJFAS

He swerved, causing you're not-wearing-seatbelt-ass to slam into the passenger car door, then rag doll as you held on for dear life on the grab handles above as you flipped over and over and over and over and over and over from the sheer power and magnitude of that swerve.

BOOM CRASH BOOFS FJADSJJDASKDSAADS CRASH BOOM POPSJDKFJASFAS

"OH SHI -"

You looked like Jay Leno in that one video where the car repeatedly flips over and over, with Joel holding his arm out trying to keep you down (didn't work).

BOOM CRASH POWEBSDAJFJSAKDA BOOF BAM POWBOOMSADJF

It just kept going.

CRASHBOOM JSDHSIFHJSA CRASH SJDFLSAFDKL FLIPSD FASKJDFSSDOAFLIP SADJFKSAJFD

Kept going.

BOOM CRASHDJSAKDFJSALDJ FAS

Yo lowkey when this gonna stop?

BOOM CRASH BOOFS FJADSJJDASKDSAADS CRASH BOOM POPSJDKFJASFASSDJFSKAKDADAS.....

SJKDFASKLJDFS boom pop.....crash...

It finally stopped!

You groaned awake, feeling FUCKED up your shit was ROCKED.

"Get up! GET UP!" Joel yelled, already having been out the car with Ellie.

"Oh my god okay chill I literally just flipped?"

"It's a trap! They're raiders!"

"What -"

"TA-TATA-ATATATATATPPAPAPAATATATATTAAAA!!!!"

You rolled your eyes bro not again.

All three of you took cover behind the now dilapidated truck as the raiders shot from the other side of the road.

You weren't even scared now, just over it like? Likeeee???????

Joel started shooting back, and so did you and though your aim was pretty shit you managed to take out some of them. You found that not looking and just shooting overhead and all over the place was the best tactic! Let the bullet find its own way <3

"Oh my god, Joel, I got an idea!" you said.

"What?!" he bellowed, very busy with the whole gunfire and all.

"We should make a bomb!"

"How?!"

"Mazel tov cocktail?"

"You mean molotov?!"

"Why are you correcting me? We have to think fast not be correcting each other get your priorities straight Joel oh my god?! Am I the only one taking this seriously?!?!?"

You dropped that gun on the floor and began to craft the bomb with such efficiency and grace, you felt like a little brainiac. You thought this may have been how the Unabomber felt like if he actually succeeded. (Thank god he didn't though lol right?? btw fbi I'm not a terrorist sympathizer!!! - Sam)

Let's just say - the pressure was on! As you were crafting the bomb, shots continue to fly by overhead, blowing comically large holes in Beetlejuice-esque hair. Joel kept rushing you, which you didn't appreciate like no shit I'm trying to go fast? Why would I not be trying to go fast dumbass?

Once you finished, you lit the cloth's end and turned to Joel and threw it at him, "THINK FAST JOEL!"

He, petrified, grabbed it in midair and looked at you with a look of complete awe. And it wasn't the good kind. More a look of horror, actually. Offended horror.

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU THROW IT AT ME?!?!?!"

"UH, DOES IT LOOK LIKE I HAVE GOOD EYE-HAND COORDINATION?!?! YOU THROW IT!?!?!"

In disbelief, he threw the molotov on the other side of the car and took cover.

You all ducked, and you took out your Dollar Store sunnies to cover your eyes from, essentially, the war crime you've just committed.

Let's just say - Oppenheimer would've been jealous. It wasn't your first time making a molotov, but something was different in the air that day, because you pretty much made the equivalent of one atomic bomb in that little glass Jarritos bottle.

The light from the bomb was so bright, for a second's moment, everything seemed still and dead silent, muted almost, as the bright glare lit everything around you all - you all braced yourselves, readying for the sound - the boom.

And girl.

Did it boom.

"Boom," said the Jarritos bottle.

The bomb? Yeah, pretty big. The effectiveness? Yeah, pretty and literally groundbreaking. The sound? Yeah, deafening.

Shards of metal, glass, unidentifiable body parts, and other mumbo jumbo flew right past you all from behind the truck, as you all huddled together, still tense from the impact.

If it wasn't for the fact that, as previously mentioned, you were already lowkey deaf from AirPods, you'd definitely be a mute. The sound riveted through all y'all's ear drums, sprinkling in a little tinnitus behind.

You guys crept up to see the damage. You pretty much did more than enough, they all literally died. The coast was definitely clear and y'all were good to go!

You three then grabbed your bags and started to walk down the road into the city, all in a stunned silence. You weren't that stunned, really, (it wasn't your first time making bombs as you did notably do some freelance work for Escobar), but Ellie and Joel had the same look like that one pic of that thousand-yard-stare soldier.

Joel was also quite pissed off, he just had that grumpy ass face he always has, but more intense. You assumed it was cause of the whole shabackle, but couldn't understand why he didn't see a reason to smile right now like? We're literally walking alive! Yeah, walking instead of driving, but alive!

"Uh, what's with the long face girl?" you asked, trying to spread your happiness.

He didn't respond.

As you got closer to the city, your patience was running thinner. The big ass backpack you had on kept slipping cause one of the straps was fucked up, causing you to have to constantly shift it upwards. It was reallllyyyyy starting to tick you off. You felt like a middle schooler who hasn't learned it's cooler to just bring a folder and chewed up pencil to school. It was also heavy as fuck with a ton of random bullshit like Joel's Linda Ronstadt CD's and Ellie's nerd ass comic books. Look, you were all for physical media, but you were also all about setting the bag on fire and catapulting it Ancient Rome style for another raider's battle. You kept this to yourself until then, though, like mama's lil secret <3.

Now in the city, you guys took a shortcut through some random building. You weren't sure it was a smart shortcut, cause it's a random building, but you were too exhausted to really gaf and ask. Plus, Joel didn't seem in the mood. He never was.

You were all creeping through the abandoned, smelly, rotting, moldy hallways, finding out it used to be a dispensary, and thought you could find some, you know, good loot or whatever. So you mentioned to Joel and Ellie that'd you look around and split off. Joel knew you were going to look for any scraps of weed like a raccoon feign, (your blueberry vape died during the battle)

You turned a corner, into a room, then looked around carefully. The place seemed pretty empty, so your guard? Very down.

"Slippppppping I'm slippingggggg," said the bag.

"Oh. My. Fucking. God," you said through gritted teeth, feeling a rise of deep anger. You violently thrusted it back on your shoulder, sore from the weight as you turned a corner. "Fucking dumbass back pack -"

You then hit the wall, as you were too distracted and fixated on the bag.

"Oh fuck," you said, rubbing your head. You looked up.

"OH FUCK!"

It wasn't a wall, it was actually the fupa of a giant bloater. You stood, petrified, stunned - almost collapsing onto the ground from the fear that plummeted into you - you were Wendy Williams as the Statue of Liberty.

Then, it burped, just staring down at you.

"AY DIOS MIO!!!!"

Like a cartoon, you jumped in the air, turned the other way and hauled absolute ASS out of there.

"GUYS!!!! GUYS, WE GOT A FLOATER!!!!!!" you screamed, running and running, doing what you perhaps always seemed to do best.

It started to chase you, it's fee fi fo fum ass stomps echoing from behind. This was some temple run ass shit.

"Feee....Fi.....Fo.....Fummmm.....," the bloater's steps said.

You then felt that all too familiar feeling, down there. And not the good kind. You had to shit. That bloater? Yeah. Scared you so much it made your butthole say,

"I need to shit."

The anxiety of 1. a bloater, 2. your need to go shit, and 3. you not being able to locate neither Joel or Ellie, filled you with such dread. You really did now gaf.

"Feeeeee....Fiiiii.....Foooooo.....Fuuuuuummmm....."

"GUYS??!?! GUYS LIKE WHERE THE FUCK ARE Y'ALL?!?!? NO LIKE FOR REAL?!?!?!"

Every thought raced through your mind - did they die? Did they abandoned you? Or worse, did they stop somewhere to eat WITHOUT you????

"Feeeeeeeeeeee....Fiiiiiii.....Fooooooo.....Fuuuuuuuuuuummmm....."

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod," you rambled, holding one hand on your ass to keep the shit in and the other on that backpack strap.

"Slipping I'm slipping again!!!!" the bag said.

"OhmygodIHATETHISFUCKASSBACKPACK!!!!!" you screamed, then proceeded to grab it and yeet it full force at the bloater's fupa.

The power of your thrust was so monstrous it caused the bloater to fly mid-air backwards for several feet and land right through a glass window.

You didn't stop to check it out, now instead enjoying the free weight literally off your back and your faster paced running. Those Lightening McQueen Crocs were now in full force, in sports mode and ready to go. With every step, the sounds of tiny yet serious little engines squeaked out from below the heel.

You then spotted the pair, and to your relief they hadn't died, left you, or were eating. No, instead they were huddled in a corner, crouched down and holding their fingers to their mouth. It looked as though they were telling you to be quiet.

"Do you guys want me to be quiet?" you asked. At that moment, Joel's spirit died. He let his head fall in general disappointment.

Turns out, an entire group of clickers were in the room next door, overstimulated, triggered and ready to pounce, triggered from your maniacal distant screaming.

"Ohhh," you mouthed, nodding overtly your head in full understanding. You crept on over, now huddled with them.

"Where's your bag?" Ellie whispered.

"What bag?" you asked, then looking away as if disinterested. You thought the best way to explain the absence of the bag was to gaslight them into thinking there was no bag in the first place. "So what now?"

"Joel?" Ellie asked.

Joel thought for a moment. "We're going to walk across the room, quietly and slowly to the exit on the other side. No fighting, no shooting," he whispered.

"Okay lieutenant," you said, biting your tongue like a white mom. This was again your attempt at flirting but it didn't work. You really needed to better your timing.

You three began to creep down the hallway, and at first it was working great, up until two random stray clicker girls were hanging out at the exit doors.

You three stopped, Joel thought for a moment on how to handle this.

You couldn't stop. You still needed to shit, and you needed to shit now. You felt your asshole gaping for air, knowing that a fart was the last thing needed now. You held that shit in, but alas some things cannot be held in forever....

"Joel," you whispered in his ear, "I like, have to shit, bad. Like, emergency. Can we speed this up?"

He heard you and decided to ignore you.

He took out his gun, then turned to you both. "I'm gonna shoot, but then you two need to run through those doors. Don't stop and don't look back."

You two nodded.

He aimed, but at that moment, you had no control.

You couldn't hold her in anymore.

This was it.

You can't control nature's course.

You farted.

And he shoted.

But your fart was like a silencer? It worked? It was so subtle and swift, and its duration lasted long enough for two shots that the clickers took it as another one of their co-clickers farting.

The two fungi bitches dropped dead and nothing followed.

"Did you just fart?" Joel asked, breaking the silence.

"No, no - that was the bloater?" you turned behind, again using the gaslighting tactic. He looked behind, too, confused, and since you knew that bloater was probably busy reading comic books and listening to Linda Ronstadt some ways away, you thought it best to move on.

"So like we gonna go orrrr....?" you asked.

"We need to run," Joel said.

"Don't need to tell me twice!" you said before hightailing outta there, your Crocs doing wonders, and leaving them in the dust, (it was actually asbestos).

Running? Running was what you did best. It was so basic, so innate, there was really nothing to it. You always thought, had it not been for all these setbacks in your life, these side quests that just kept side questing you, you lowkey could've been a runner? Not the crackhead Flaka drug ones but, the other type of runner. But oh well c'est la vie.

You three made it out and ran for what seemed like miles and miles (it was across the street), before you stopped from the force of your imminent shit. Joel and Ellie ran past you, not waiting to save your ass, and climbed down some rubble. You tapped back in.

"Joel! JOEL!"

He turned to you, flustered and annoyed as the group of zombies echoed behind y'all like the sounds of minions.

"WHAT?!"

"I CAN'T CLIMB DOWN!"

"YES YOU CAN?!"

You looked down the rubble - you theoretically could, but didn't wanna make one wrong move and ledge your asshole open. Of course, though, you couldn't tell him that, boys aren't supposed to know that girls shit. So you hoped that maybe you acting as a girlie who needed a guy's unnecessary chivalry could so hit right now. He wasn't biting.

"WHAT?" he yelled, literally less than three feet below you.

It wasn't gonna work. The zombies incoherent ramblings grew louder and louder behind you. Looks like plan B - you needed to give him no choice.

He started to run back towards Ellie, before you stopped him.

"JOEL! CATCH MEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Like a baby who's dropped into the pool for the first time to 'learn how to swim' without any sense of physical agency or control, like a manic person running with their hands up and mouth agape, like a true damsel in distress, you hauled yourself off of that three-foot ledge, aiming for Joel's heroic yet un-consenting arms, all in a slo-mo.

Joel literally had no choice but to catch you, so he did, and your fat ass made him fall backwards onto the ground where it really fucked up his 50 year old, seniors discount breakfast-ass back.

"Oh fuck," you said, like a wounded grandma.

Joel groaned. You two looked at one another in the face, quite close, cause you were literally on top of him? Like omg this is so rom-com! Enemies to lover's type! Except you were always his enemy and you always thought he'd be your lover <3

Time stood still as you looked into one another's eyes. It was as if the whole world had stopped, and it was only you two - you inspected every wrinkle, gray hair, blackhead - he was beautiful.

"Uh, guys! We need to go?!" Ellie shouted.

"Oh shit I forgot -" you said and bounced right up, remembering your shit, and back to leaving.

You three were back to running, since it was not only your favorite activity but a common pastime in apocalyptic worlds. You were up ahead, again fueled by your natural instincts needing to shit, its adrenaline pumping through your veins as if you were the Flaka fungi people. It caused you to momentarily ponder - is the real reason why all these zombies are irritable is because they need to shit but can't, so they've been backed up for YEARS? A shiver went down your neck at just the thought.

You turned a corner between buildings, before stopping again in your tracks. A whole fucking HERD OF THEM BITCHES!!!!!!!!!!

You were frozen, petrified, stunned, silenced. Your face couldn't help but go into its natural fight or flight state - the soy face. And a mega one at that.

Joel stopped, looked at you frightened.

"What? What is it?!" he asked desperately.

But there was no time. Cause guess what? There's now bandits!!!

Then THEY started to chase you. Fuck the clickers. Fuck an iClicker!

You couldn't help but giggle. You couldn't help but be amused. Why are a bunch of bandits chasing a girl in SpongeBob shorts? Like they think you got the goods like that?! What's a girl with Spongebob shorts got? A probable yeast infection?

You didn't realize it, but your giggles were actually audible. You sounded like Pops from Regular Show.

"I'm just a girl, like whaaaaaa?" you giggled and shouted, running still. "Like, leave me alone what the fuck?!?!? This is crazy omg!!!"

Even Joel was confused, running beside you, thinking, 'why is this bitch giggling?'

Even the bandits took notice and got weirded out. So weirded out they actually stopped chasing y'all. You were treating an ambush like a frolicking sesh in the garden.

You supposed it was your brain trying to protect you, seeing that you were in actual danger of being killed. Maybe you genuinely couldn't believe it? Who knows. (I'm not a psychologist I'm sam st. Clair)

You all finally made it to a supermarket, where you boarded yourselves up once you scoped the place out. It was nighttime now, hella dark out and you couldn't guess shit where y'all were at. You just relied that Joel knew, it was your default since he's the self-proclaimed Rick of this little posse y'all got.

Anyway, you three split off, maybe because you all were tired of all the socializing you guys did back there. You didn't mind being alone, it gave you the opportunity to fart without anyone around to sniff or judge, or both. Speaking of farting, you took your shit the moment you slammed your ass on the toilet in the back, where the manager's office was. Shit was monstrous and you were sure you might've contracted some of the fungi since you were so determined to sit down that you didn't notice spores all up on the seat. But oh well. Your ass did start to itch, but you relied on your body to figure it out.

You got so bored you decided to walk up and down the smelly aisles, then found a pack of untouched, one of a kind, rare finds, vintage ZooPals. You remembered that Joel was making dinner, so thought these would be perfect!

You grabbed them fast, then went to present them to him. He was not so impressed.

"Joel, check it," you said, acting as if you were Christian Bale in American Psycho showing off your business card.

"That's extra weight," he said, dismissively and went back to cooking the beans.

"Are you kidding me?! This is some fine China right here," you protested. "Your boomer ass might be having a dementia episode or something not remembering the sheer value of what it is to eat off a ZooPal's plate."

His demeanor got sadder. You feared you might've crossed the line with the dementia comment.

"No," he mumbled solemnly. "They remind me of my daughter."

Your face dropped.

"Yikes. Sorry about that luv," (when you felt awkward you opted to go British). You then walked away. Best avoid that <3

That night you guys ate the beans and left in the morning, since Joel said apparently a supermarket isn't the best place to hide. You weren't sure why - if they carried ZooPal's, who know what else they could be hiding?

You kept walking down the street until you found a car that looked recently used. Joel tried starting it with the cables and shit whatever they do in the movies when they jumpstart a car. Red wire blue wire green fish two fish one fish blue fish.

"Can I drive?" you asked. You weren't sure what got into you, you literally don't have a license. Not that traffic violations mattered in these parts, but because you couldn't even tell left from right.

He gave you a look. "Fine."

"That was easy," you said.

As he began fixing it up, Ellie pointed to an object on the dashboard.

"What's that?" she asked.

You looked.

Oh no.

Not on my car.

"No. Not on my fucking car."

You grabbed that octopus stuffed animal dashboard bullshit, swung and threw that shit so far that it broke a nearby high-rise apartment window and exploded. It was a bomb and you inadvertently just saved everyone's life.

"How'd you know that was a bomb?" Joel asked, incredulously.

You knew the answer was that you didn't know it was a bomb, it was cause you actually hated nothing more on this earth than those octopus dashboard plushies, because every bad driver in a BMW happens to have one, so you thought you should go with the flow.

"I told you. I worked for Escobar. I can smell a bomb," you said.

"Wow. That's a crazy nose you have. It's like your superpower," Ellie said, geeking out.

"If it really was a superpower, I'd been able to stop Oppenheimer," you said.

She didn't get it.

Joel looked up, again, confused why you would say that in the first place.

"Sorry, it's before your time," you said, moving on quickly.

The car started and you three hopped in, ready to drive y'alls asses OUT OF HERE! You were excited, feeling that this was gonna be like a little roadtrip movie.

It was only two miles since you guys have driven and you had to contain your giddiness. Joel definitely wasn't happy and Ellie was to herself in the back reading her nerd ass comics. You just looked crazy laughing to yourself. You were just looking forward to the roadtrip vibes, FINALLY you guys found an actual working car so no more walking no more dilapidated backs no more annoying backpacks and oh shit there's a spider.

"OH SHIT THERE'S A SPIDER!!!" you freaked, seeing it dance slowly from the roof, hanging onto its web and literally three inches away from your face. You began to move yourself away, moving the steering wheel with it and thus moving the whole car off the road.

"Okay, calm down I got it -" Joel said.

"No Joel it's that I can't dude no Joel get it GET IT!" you demanded, feeling like an entity just possessed you with how deep and demented your voice got from the fear.

"Just keep the damn car still I can't grab it!"

He really couldn't, the more you turned the car, the more the spider swayed into your face, causing you to turn the car more and causing Joel to have trouble actually getting it. He was getting frustrated.

"Joel, we're gonna crash!" Ellie cried, trying to hide behind the seat.

The screaming and shouting also wasn't helping the vibe at all.

"I can't dude no Joel it's that I can't BRO FUCK! GET THAT BITCH!" you kept crying, "I'M NOT JOKING BRO!"

"KEEP DAMN STILL -"

Y'all crashed.

The random light post just HAPPENED to be in the way. Thankfully you guys weren't hurt, you just fucked up the car bad. And Joel was pissed. When he's mad, he's quiet. And he was QUIET.

"Well that was short," Ellie said as you three just stood looking at the demolished car. "So what now?"

The 'what now' was actually that you guys found a safe house literally less than a mile away. God finally gave y'all a little break!

It was down the road, in a little suburb. It seemed to have belonged to others, since it was all boarded up and defensed up and the only sign of life left in the house was a infected fungi girl strapped to a chair in the bedroom, placed in front of a tv screen playing a VHS tape of Friends.

You thought it best to put it out of its misery, so you turned off the tv.

You patted her on the back, caring and lovingly as she snarled at you, "No one deserves to be forced to sit and watch Friends, not even in the apocalypse."

You closed the door, leaving her at peace and again, out of her her torture.

Time passed. Joel was about to start cooking beans and Ellie left to go take a much needed power nap in the guest bedroom. You offered Joel to rest and that you'd cook instead. Little did he know how much of an exclusive this was with you, bitch you didn't cook. But you felt pretty bad for the whole spider thing and thought, hey, what's a little cooking? What's a little meal prep?

Joel said his very weary 'thanks' and went to rest on the couch, while you went into the kitchen. He looked genuinely happy to see you take the responsibility. And you were genuinely happy in other places too at the idea of you cooking for him <3 and Ellie ofc. And yourself, who could forget your fat ass?

Time passed, maybe a little too long of a time to make beans, when you had finally finished. Though you were pretty sure all the garnishes left in the kitchen were expired and no, those are not flakes of oregano but flakes of mold, they actually came out pretty good. You prepped three beautiful plates, on the fine China (ZooPal's, Ellie got the duck plate, Joel the ladybug, and you the frog), and went to push the kitchen door to present your dish as if you were battling Bobby Flay on that one kitchen show with the other woman with white hair that looks like she'd be one of the emotions from Inside Out.

"Dinner's ready! -" you said cheerily, until you realized - it wasn't just Joel who would see your dish. Not Ellie. Not even Bobby Flay - it was the raiders. Again. They were all up in your living room, def crossing the maximum capacity. They just couldn't seem to get enough of you and you didn't want to come off as narcissistic but guessed your personality had to be addictive.

You all took a minute, assessing the situation. Actually, you ALL took that minute. You just stood there, plates filled with beans, and they stood there, guns filled with bullets, with Joel and Ellie on their knees with their wrists tied behind their backs.

The silence kept going.

You just stood there.

"Wait, so -," your bimbo ass said, very Trisha-esque, not even able to come to form a conclusion. You were just so confused. "Wait -"

And there it is again.

Someone tackled you. AGAIN.

Not only did your body go flying underneath the massive weight that just sumo slammed itself into you, but so did the beans. The beans? Yeah, they were airborne. The ZooPal plates? In flight.

The mass was actually a man who was attempting to zip tie your wrists now that he had you pinned down. However, he underestimated your irritability when you were hungry.

Mama's hungry.....and mama wants her beans.....and what mama wants...........mama GETS.........

You had just about had enough.

You threw him off with such strength that could only come with a girl's rage. A rage so deep, so visceral and seemingly uncontrollable, one that could set you back on all the self-help and patience exercises that you've practiced. No. That's it. She's gonna pop, and just like the shit from earlier - some things just cannot be held in forever.

You rose up, looking briefly over at the man who's back slammed against the window, where he then tumbled and tumbled to who knows what fate, but a fate just the same as that bloater earlier.

The raiders were too aghast at your abilities.

"I just, I can't," you started, panicky. "I can't hold it in anymore."

You almost started crying from the mania. You looked very unstable, cause you were.

You took a deep breath, but knew one thing - you've been holding this anger, this wrath in for so long, now it's time for her to be released.

One of the raiders caught on and began to back up. His buddies followed, scared, almost like watching a Jack in the box as a grown adult, but that childlike fear still imprinted in your innermost being.

"Hey listen, we'll just get out of -"

" - do you KNOW HOW FUCKING HARD IT IS TO FIND ANY FOOD OUT HERE WITH NO FUCKING MOLD ON IT?! YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO COOK ROOM TEMPERATURE FUCKING BEANS ON A DINGY LAPTOP RUNNING ON SIMS 3?! IT TAKES A LONG FUCKING TIME!!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW HUNGRY I'VE BEEN?!?!?! I'M THREE DAYS LATE ON MY FUCKING PERIOD AND I'VE BEEN FEIGNING FOR SOME FUCKING BEANS!!!! BEANS, BITCH!!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW DESPERATE I'VE GOTTA BE FOR FOOD TO WANT BEANS?!?! I'M CRAVING ROOM TEMPERATURE BEANS LIKE A SOLDIER IN THE CIVIL FUCKING WAR!!!!! - (you lost them) - DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THAT IS?!??! THAT'S LIKE, ONE OF THE BIG DEAL WARS!?!??! WHATEVER AND NOW MY BEANS ARE ON THE GROUND LIKE DO I LOOK LIKE TRAVIS KELCE?! DO I LOOK LIKE A BITCH TO BE TACKLED ONTO THE FUCKING GROUND??!?!! DO I HAVE A SIGN ON ME THAT SAYS I'M A QUARTER BACK?!?! NO BITCH I WANT A QUARTER POUNDER!!!! AND NOW LOOK!!! 'UH, GUYS, WE HAVE COMPANY!!!!!'"

After your spew that gave you the same catharsis akin to rapping a Nicki Minaj verse word for word, they put their hands up in surrender and backed on out, suddenly becoming overly-friendly while you followed them out to the porch. You had the same aura as a a 'get off my property or I'll shoot' type.

"Sorry for disturbing you, ma'am."

"Have a nice day, Ms., sorry about that."

"Lovely house and beans."

"Have a good day."

"Bye bye now."

"THANK YOU, YES!! FUCKING LEAVE!!!! RED-COAT, QUARTERING ASS FUGLY ASS BITCHES!! OR Y'ALL DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS EITHER?!?! GO FIND A BOOK ON WARS THAT DON'T INVOLVE TOILET PAPER AND LEARN ABOUT THE IMPORTANCE OF BEANS YOU FUCKING SKID MARKS!!!!"

"Great plates."

"I like what you did with your hair, ma'am. Very unique."

"AND STAY OUT!!!!!! THIS IS MY OWN PRIVATE DOMICILE AND I WILL NOT BE HARASSED!!!!!!"

You turned back around into the house, overhearing one of their conversations as they got farther and farther (not only are you partially deaf, but you have super-hearing).

"I think that's the same girl from earlier, with the weird giggles from earlier?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. The Spongebob shorts, remember?"

"Oh, fuck. You're right."

You couldn't help but not smile hard. You like, lowkey did that? No violence or anything. MLK was lowkey right.

But that smile soon fell once you got back into the house, remembering what literally just happened. Seeing your hard work splattered all over the floor was like seeing your own world end. By then, Joel was already untied and had just finished Ellie's.

"That was INSANE!" Ellie said, excitedly. "Did you see their faces?! That was so sick!"

"Thanks, Ellie. I'm lowkey gonna cry now, so those words of positive affirmation do help."

"Wait, don't," Joel said, oddly caring.

"Of course I'm gonna cry! I'M FUCKING HUNGRY oh my god what's that?"

Joel had reached into his bag, pulling out three very familiar containers.

"I'd, uh, hope we could be eatin' this, too," he said sheepishly, as he revealed they were perfect condition, ready-to-eat, beautifully displayed fat rolls of sushi.

You at the very moment became a belieber in spontaneous combustion, because you'd never been so hot so quick, it was just too hot. Joel was too hot. Sushi was too hot too, and he got you sushi?! That's like double the hot! This is Hot Ones DA BOMB!!

"Oh my god, Joel - you didn't," you held your hands to your face, in such happiness and surprise. It looked as if Joel had just proposed to you and the ring was a singular spicy tuna roll.

Joel smiled softly, a rarity around these parts. You found that glimpse of another side of him so interesting, intriguing - attractive. You always knew he was hot, and knew you wouldn't say no to your bestowed Rick, but DAMN like Kendrick's 2017 hit-album he was fine as FUCK right now.

"Contain it girl, contain it," the voices told yourself.

"How'd you get this?!" you asked, taking it as he reached them out for you. You inspected them, you weren't sure if it was because you were hallucinating from the hunger, but they looked exactly like Studio Ghibli food, your fat ass was about to feast. You felt the salivation like those rabies victims outside.

"I'm a smuggler. It's my job," he said, which you swore was flirting-ly but unfortunately didn't have any of your girls around to tell this too and get their opinion :( so you decided to live with your delusion that it was!

You wanted to kiss him so bad for that, you could've cried. And you did.

You three sat around the campfire, eating, talking, laughing, all good vibes. Ellie had finally tried sushi for the first time and loved it, as you went on to explain the days of the Barbenheimer summer. (You thought she needed to dip her toes into Oppenheimer lore somehow already.)

"Hey, sorry you guys had to see me like that," you said, finishing your roll. "I just get like, really annoyed when people stop me from eating food when I'm hungry. Like, that's me time, you know? It's personal."

"What are you talking about?! That was so good! They were shitting their pants!" asked Ellie.

"Lol me," you spat. You hoped they didn't catch that.

"You - you really scared them off there," mustered Joel, impressed.

"Thanks," you said, taking whatever compliment that man could give to heart.

"If only we had you during our shootout, back at the Target," Joel said. "I thought you were a runner, first time I saw you."

"Why's that?"

"You had all that," he motioned to his face, "red stuff, all on your mouth and chin. Thought it was blood."

"Oh, that was Chef Boyardee! You know him?"

Did he know him.

Did he know him?

Girl he was a single father once of course he knew him.

And what else did he know?

He knew he was in love with you, in love with Y/N...

"I, uh, love -"

"- Joel loves Chef Boyardee. He got all excited when he found a can, once," Ellie said, interrupting him.

"Because that's what the Chef intended with his creation," you said, not really one hundred percent sure what that meant. And neither did Joel or Ellie. Anyway,

Time passed, you guys cleaned up and Ellie had gone to sleep.

You and Joel were sat on the swinging bench on the porch outside, passing your blueberry fume back and forth like a blunt (it actually wasn't dead, contrary to popular belief). He wasn't really a fan, but didn't want to tell you no.

You'd been out for some time, enjoying the warm (lowkey hot) breeze and of course, Joel's company. He was a man of few words, unfortunately, but it did make him hotter. Like, why so mysterious?

"So how'd you really get that sushi?" you asked, after some unimportant small talk.

"When we were at the supermarket," he said. "Wanted to surprise you."

"That's so hot," you said immediately.

"What?"

"It's so hot right now, that's what I meant," you spat and took your fume from him, taking in an unnecessarily giant hit.

"Well, wanna go back inside?"

"Nah."

"Okay?"

Another silence.

"You know, I wanted to uh, thank you, for being nice with Ellie and all," he said, "it's uh, it's nice."

"No probs. She's funny. Reminds me of a younger TikTok-obsessed cousin, you know? The kind you're excited to see on Christmas?"

"Yeah, yeah. I understand," he said. He didn't.

The silence continued. And you had to admit, it was getting awkward. Something needed to happen. And your pervert mind knew what would be perfect right now -

" - My daughter loved Chef Boyardee," Joel then said, really out of nowhere.

You turned to him. For a moment, you genuinely forgot he had a daughter. You didn't really like comforting people when you were horned up, but there was no escaping this. Who knows if he's ever said this before? Maybe you're the one - the special one - that gets to hear this exclusive tidbit. So you complied. Sometimes people needed a shoulder to lean on, so you decided right there and then, (and apparently Joel too), that you'd be that shoulder...

"That's crazy," you said. So little words, yet so much meaning.

"It is," he said, smoking the fume.

"My ex-sugar daddy, the guy that I told you about, do you remember?" you asked, he nodded his head. He did remember. "Well, yeah, he actually had a health scare once. Chef Boyardee, specifically the ravioli, was all he ate when he was separated from his wife. She used to cook all these real pasta dishes, so when he was living on his own he was pretty much incapable of cooking anything besides a bowl of cereal. He just ate Chef Boyardee ravioli all day and his cholesterol went up. It was crazy."

"Huh."

"Yeah. And it was kinda weird, you know, because he was Italian. I didn't think Italians accepted the Chef as one of their own."

"I guess he did."

"Yeah. I miss him."

Joel turned to you.

You realized your mistake. You DON'T bring up an ex on the first date hello?!?! HELLO (@ALL THE BOYS IN THE WORLD HELLO?!?!?!)

"I mean, I miss the old world, you know. Like, how you miss your daughter," you explained. "Association and all."

"I'm sorry if I'm a little, you know," he said, "If I don't come off very - personable. You've, uh, been a great help to us both. To me."

"Of course! It's okay. It's kinda hard to keep manners going when more than half of the population are demented cannibals and the other wanna rob you all the time."

You both smiled softly. You provided him the warmth he needed, the warmth that could always greet him at the end of the day, reminding him that there's always room for warmth. You are his sun, his warmth. You're his heating pad, the warmth of a heating pad.

"I don't, I don't say this much. Not at all, actually, not until you brought up the 'association' thing, but - you remind me of the old world," he said.

Your ass couldn't help but smile.

"Oh my god Joel that's like so sweet!" you said, before jumping on him to give him a big hug! He hugged tightly back, he then threw you back on the bench and you felt his member pressed against your leg. He then began kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fought for dominance but you let him win. He eventually started going down on you, taking your "I <3 ORLANDO" Spongebob-themed PJ shorts off, and started kissing your labia.

"This...this is a labia," he said, his southern drawl coming out in full force.

"Oh my god this is just like my fic!"

"What?"

"Nothing!"

You lifted your legs as he began to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He held your foot up and raised himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes were closed, ready to take the man from Austin, Texas in. This is it. No Flaka girls, no fungus-infested toilets, no Chef Boyardee-obsessed raiders, nothing - just you and Joel.

Hope you enjoyed!

xoxo,

~Sam St. Clair

P.S. - I'm not actually dead! I've been in hospital. So, almost. I've now learned that sanding your tires down to make them look cleaner and smoother and prettier is actually quite dangerous.

xoxo, again,

~Sam St. Clair