#post canon? yeah they survived. dont ask me how

[massgrav]

I'll take care of you, even if you hate it.

.

[mistiell]

Oh, Your Love is Sunlight

summary: While on a supply run with your (insanely attractive) neighbor and friend, Joel, you nearly die twice. Once to an infect, and second to hypothermia, when you fall through the ice while trying to take a short cut home to Jackson. Joel spends the night trying to warm you up and keep you alive, and the morning after, you both come to a realization.

wc: 8k (Yikes, sorry y’all)

warnings: VOMIT (For my fellow emetephobics, I put ** at the start and end of the part), Fem! Reader, canon typical violence, graphic description of killing an infected, hypothermia, near death experiences, body heat as a survival tactic, like brief indirect mention of Star Wars that might be inaccurate bc I’ve never seen it (DONT COME FOR ME, I JUST HAVENT GOTTEN AROUND TO IT), Worried and protective Joel, very very briefmention of original characters towards the end bc i needed people and didnt feel like searching the wiki, slightly jealous Joel but it passes quickly. if i missed anything lmk. NOT PROOFREAD (will likely come back to fix any mistakes later)

a/n: Hello i have returned with a fic i started last year and just finished (oops lol), and it is my longest fic to date so enjoy! This will likely have a smutty part 2 if i ever get around to it.

**NOTE: I've linked ways to help Palestine here. If you're in a position to donate anything at all, please do! If not, you can reblog the post that's linked so it gets out to more people.

---

You don’t hate Joel Miller, but you really hate him right now.

Tommy was supposed to do this run with him – something about guitar strings for Ellie that they couldn’t get awhile ago – but something had come up. Joel had come to you to ask if you’d go with him instead, and your will to please him overrode your vehement dislike of sub-zero temperatures. It’s become apparent in recent months that you just can’t say no to the man; a flaw that you are actively going to work on fixing when you get back, you decide as you trudge through what has to be double digit inches worth of snow.

“Remind me why we couldn’t have ridden the rest of the way?” You huff, lifting and heaving your heavy winter boot yet another step after him. You really wish it were safe to wear snowshoes out here. It would make travelling through this shit so much easier. Alas, while it’s great for travelling faster over snow, the same can’t be said for escaping any infected you may have the misfortune of running into out here.

He sighs, but reminds you again for the third time in thirty minutes, “Horses can’t make it through this way in the winter.”

“Couldn’t we have found a way around?”

Bemused, he shoots you a sidelong glance, “Unless you wanna walk home in the dark, no. Sun’s already too low for my likin’.”

“It’s barely afternoon, Joel.”

“Might be past that by the time we head back.”

“Might be isn’t will be.”

Shaking his head, he breathes an exasperated chuckle. You’d think he was genuinely annoyed if this wasn’t your routine. You try to vex him, he pretends it’s working. He looks fond as he shakes his head, “D’ you gotta be so goddamn argumentative all the time?”

“‘Course.” You grin puckishly, “Part of my charm.”

He snorts, lifting a tree branch and letting you duck under his arm, a little bit of snow flaking off the nettles and dusting your hair and eyelashes, “Charm ain’t exactly the word I’d use.”

“Yeah? What word would you use, then?” You ask, turning to look at him just as he ducks under the branch after you. As he straightens, you realize you’re so close, you have to tilt your head back a little to look at him.

It’s only when you’re this close to him that you’re reminded of just how broad he is. Broad shoulders, broader chest. One of his hands could encompass nearly a whole half of your face, you’re sure. Leaving the two of you in spouts of steam, you watch your breaths mingle and dance in the space between you. Humming a low rumble, his mouth twists and eyes narrow as he pretends to think, and you almost forget what you’ve asked until he replies, “Annoyance.”

Moment lost. You roll your eyes. “Aren’t you sweet.”

He chuckles, the sound rich in his chest as he continues on and prompts you to do the same. As you emerge from the treeline, you spot your destination a ways away. A small, rundown town centre. You can just barely see a sign with a treble clef peaking out from behind the large building blocking your view.

“You’re sure this area’s clear, right?” His silence unnerves you. “Right?”

“Should be.” His brow creases. He looks about as reluctant to be doing this as you are, but Ellie needs new strings and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get them before her birthday. The things you do for those you love, you suppose, “Keep a look out, just in case.”

“Yup.” You sigh, popping the ‘P’.

The town is a frigid wasteland when you make it onto the main street, storefront windows smashed to bits with snow drifts sloping up the walls and creeping inside, blowing snow whooshing up in swirls like mini tornados across the open spaces. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as you traverse the street, nerves buzzing with the anticipation of danger that is ever present out here.

More walking, before glass crackles underfoot as you step through the mangled metal frame of the music store’s front door, careful to avoid the jagged pieces still jutting out of the rust-flaked steel. The two of you split up to look around, Joel making his way over to a wall that houses a couple of fair quality acoustic guitars while you survey a few shelves lined with CD’s and tapes on the other side of the room.

“Y’know guitar strings ain’t gonna be over there, right?” He calls, and you roll your eyes.

“Obviously. I figured I’d try to find something for her, too.” An album cover catches your eye and you slide it out, tilting your head uncertainly. It looks old, but you recognize some of the songs off the list on the back, “You think she’d like ‘Heart’?”

“What, the band?” You call back in confirmation, and he hums out a breath in thought as he picks over his side of the store, “I reckon she might.”

“‘Heart’ it is, then.” You murmur to yourself, slinging your pack from your shoulders and kneeling to unzip the main pocket.

Something clatters somewhere ahead of you, and you freeze, head snapping up in the direction of another door, wooden this time. You watch and wait, unblinking, palming the hilt of your pistol. Quads, hamstrings, calves wound tight and poised to move quickly, you rise slow into a half crouch, holding your breath. Something bumps again, chittering, hard enough this time that the door shudders in the corroded frame.

“Joel-!”

The door flings open and hits the adjacent wall with a BANG!, and with a guttural, inhumane cry, something flings its body at you chest first, knocking you off your feet. Your shoulders slam into the tiled floor with a hollow thud, knocking the air from your lungs and taking your ability to scream with it. You flail, forearm pressed hard against the infected’s fleshy throat as you fight wildly while trying desperately to breath, scream, something.

A large hunk of Cordyceps encompasses a quarter of it’s face, rubbery ridges stretching several inches from the surface of its skin. One wild, bloodshot eye meets yours, pupil blown and lids split so wide with hunger you can see where the yellowed white begins to curve into its skull. Your heart thrums painfully in your throat as you realize you’ve nothing to do but stare back and pray Joel gets the hell over here before the thing tears into you. Its teeth gnash, still shrieking, mouth opening so wide you can see the mottled grey of its rotting tonsils behind flashes of bloodied incisors. Its rancid breath has your stomach churning.

A strong arm wraps around its neck from behind, and then it’s off you, and you’re staring wide eyed at the ceiling listening to the cracking of bone, a far off, dying keen. The wet squelch of brain matter and rotten cerebrospinal fluid spilling out of its skull and likely splattering over the wall is muffled but just as terribly, egregiously sickening. Its only once you’re pulled up by the shoulders and spots dance across your vision that you realize that you’ve still yet to take a proper breath.

Joel takes your face between large palms, lips moving with no sound beyond the ringing in your ears. You watch his mouth wrap around your name, then the words ‘Breathe’and ‘Please’ several times over as he pats feeling into your cheeks. Over his shoulder, the thing lays motionless, its head so mangled, its just a wet mess of reds and greys and sharp fragments of bone. Your stomach rolls. **You twist out of his hold just as it contracts and spills its contents over the grimy floor, black pressing into your peripherals until you finally shut your eyes, retching. A hand smooths over your shoulder blades while the other collects any loose strands of hair and holds them back behind your nape. **

Its easier to breathe by the time you’re done, and you can finally hear his voice again, low and soft as he soothes, “S’ alright, you’re okay.”

“Oh, fuck.” You rasp, throat burning something awful as you spit the acrid taste from your mouth

“I know, I know.” He turns you to him by your shoulders as soon as you’re done and looks you over, gaze frantically jumping between your face, neck, shoulders, arms. “Did it get you?”

You blink dumbly at him.

“What?” Your mind is still catching up to the present moment, and it takes too long for you to process what he’s asked.

“Were you bit?” His voice is high, shaking and scared, his hands on your shoulders like vice grips.

“N-No.” You force out just so he’ll calm down. You’re not actually sure yet, adrenaline still prickling in your extremities, so really, you could be. Its just that seeing him so genuinely panicked is more than a little disconcerting. His hold on your shoulders starts to ache, and you squirm, “Joel, you’re hurting me.”

He lets go like he’s been burned before gently pushing your jacket and shirt collar to your right, then left as you slide your sleeves up a little to check your wrists. No bites, no scratches. You both breathe sighs of relief.

“You get the strings?” You rasp, and he looks at you incredulously.

“You almost died n’ you’re worried ‘bout the guitar strings?” You shrug, and he breathes a laugh, beard scratching under the pads of his fingertips as he rubs at his mouth, “Christ, you are gonna be the death of me.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah, I got the damn strings.” With a quiet grunt, he rises, holds out a hand, “Let’s get the hell outta here.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Clapping your hand into his, you let him hoist you to your feet.

---

Walking, freezing, joints aching, the sun looms low in the sky, stealing away with it slowly the light of day. Joel holds up two fingers to the horizon and scowls. You sigh, trek onwards, a shiver jittering down your spine and making your teeth chatter briefly, causing you to accidentally nip the tip of your tooth paste coated finger as you attempt to rid your mouth of the remnants of your earlier close call.

“You alright?” He asks for what has to be the thirtieth time as you spit into the snow and wipe your mouth with your sleeve.

For the thirtieth time, despite feeling a little gross, you answer, “Fine.”

“Y’sure?” He rubs a gloved hand roughly along the length of your shoulders, warming the nape of your neck even through layers. “You’re shiverin’.”

You want to curl into his side. Slide under his arm, wrap yours round his back and squeeze so close you’d have to mirror his gait so you don’t trip over his ankle. You shake your head minutely. The cold is weakening your resolve.

“I’m okay. Just wanna get home.” You try to sound normal, like his touch isn’t setting you on fire.

He gives you a soft squeeze and retracts his arm. You mourn the loss swiftly and silently, “You n’ me both.”

The shadows around lengthen considerably as you keep going. Glancing up at the sky, the sun has dipped lower, turning the sky a dusted pink. You scowl at the realization that he was right. At this rate, you won’t make it back to Jackson before dark.

“We’re not makin’ good time.” He articulates your thought with a sigh, brow creased.

“We could pass over the lake?”

He hesitates, then makes a face like he’s smelled something rotten, “S’ not a good idea.”

“It’s been frozen over since November.” You argue. It’s nearly March now, but the snow is still crisp under your boots and the wind is cold enough that your cheeks and nose are numb. It’s the quickest way back, you know he knows that.

There’s a pause as he contemplates whether or not it’s worth the risk. There are about a hundred things that could go wrong, and you watch him mull over them all in the minute it takes for him to finally reply, “Fine. But if you fall in, you’re gettin’ yourself out.”

There’s no truth to it. He might scold you, but he’d do it while breathing life back into you, cursing you between each exhale. Your breath comes out in puffs of fog as you chuckle, “Deal.”

By the time you reach the crossing, the sky has taken on a lovely lavender hue that serves as a less lovely reminder that you’re quickly running out of daylight. Joel hums doubtfully as he eyes the ice, sizing up the distance between the two of you and the bank on the other side.

The lake isn’t very large to begin with, and the path crosses a narrow strip where the water tapers in like the neck of an hourglass. It’ll take you fifteen minutes or so to get all the way over to the other side. In the height of winter, you can even get the horses safely across. But while it’s still well below freezing, and the ice looks thick enough to jump on from here, it could be weaker further out.

Hands in his pockets, Joel frowns, “I really don’t know about this.”

“It’s fine.” Emboldened by thoughts of your warm bed and a steaming cup of tea waiting for you on the other side, you step onto the ice and turn back to him, “See?”

“Mm-hm.” He hums, displeased as he follows after you carefully.

Ten minutes of walking and you’re already a little ways passed the halfway mark. Joel’s had his eyes on the dark abyss beneath you nearly the entire time. “If you keep looking down like that, you might fall.”

“N’ if I don’t, both of us might fall.” His use of ‘fall’ means something different to yours. Humming, you turn your gaze forward again.

“We’re close, now. The ice is stronger closer to the edges, right?” You already know the answer. There’s no point in asking, but you do anyway just so he’ll talk.

“Mm.” He grumbles. That stubborn crease between his brows has deepened, you find when you glance sidelong at him.

“Exactly. We’re fi-.” An ear splitting crack bounces off the ice, to the trees, and back again in a terrible echo as the ice splinters beneath you. You nearly slip in your haste to stop. The both of you go stiff as statues. You’re petrified. Joel looks doubly so.

“Joel.” You whisper, as if your voice weighs enough to be the extra bit that sends you plunging into the icy depths below. The chalky cracks are in stark contrast to the dark backdrop of the water beneath. Just how deep must it be for you to be unable to make out anything below you?

You feel like you might be sick.

“Hey. Look at me.” Tears hot with panic well in your eyes as you do as he says, and the look on his face makes it worse. You know that look. He thinks might lose you, and he’s decided he won’t let it happen. His breath trembles, but his voice doesn’t waver, “S’ gonna be alright, yeah?”

You manage a nod, and only then does he look down, then left, scouring the ice and treeline barely fifteen feet away. Back to you, and you both realize he’s to far to reach you. Second time you’ve almost died today, and this time he can’t come to your rescue.

“M-Maybe I can...” You bend your knees a little as if to move and he throws a hand out.

“Don’t-!”

The ice gives, and the fear takes up so much space you’ve barely room to take a breath before you’re engulfed in painful cold. It bites at your face as you attempt to swim up. The water muffles everything but the sound of your heartbeat as you fight against the weight of your clothes and backpack. You make the mistake of opening your eyes and find yourself swimming up, up, up through far too much nothing. It hurts to kick your legs hard enough to propel yourself, and it takes what feels like forever for you to breach the surface. You take in a heaving lungful of air as Joel calls your name.

He’s on his belly, body parallel to the edge and arm outstretched, but not close enough for you to grab just yet, “Don’t pull yourself up. Just- Just get your arms on the ice n’ kick your legs a little, alright? Can you do that?”

“Uh-huh.” It comes out jittery, jaw vibrating, teeth clacking together painfully as you hook your arm clumsily up over the lip and do as he says. The lower half of your body gradually rises until you’re level with the ice, and it’s then that he beckons you closer.

“Now scooch forward.”

You kick your legs harder and carefully pull yourself toward him until your chest is out of the water, then your torso. The ice dips a bit as you reach for his outstretched hand, and as soon as he’s got yours, he pulls hard enough to get you the rest of the way out, nearly wrenching your shoulder out of the socket. The moment you’re close enough, he wraps his arms tight around you and rolls you both away from the hole in the ice.

Panting, trembling, he keeps you there in his arms moments longer than he probably should.

“Don’t you ever do shit like that again.” His voice breaks on ‘ever’. “Gonna give me a fuckin’ heart attack. Too old for this shit.”

“I didn’t fuckin’ do it on pu-purpose.” You slur with lips too stiff to fit around the words right. Even your tongue feels frozen, but you think that’s probably more from the shock, “Thought y’said I’d have’ta get myself out.”

He huffs a short laugh, incredulous and utterly relieved. “Had a change a’ heart.”

“C’mon.” Carefully, he shifts onto knees before standing. He doesn’t let go of you once as he helps you to your feet, “Gotta get you warmed up ‘fore you freeze.”

He says it like there’s somewhere warm waiting for you just beyond the ice. You’re too tired to be outwardly pessimistic. “Yeah.”

You should be anxious as he shuffles the two of you to shore as quickly as is safe. When you make it there, he stops you only to peel off your mitts and scarf before ushering you forward. It’s freezing, you’re soaked. It’s a recipe for a very miserable death, you think dismally. But you trust Joel, and the tight grip he has on you makes you relax, even when you’re toeing a very fine line between life and death. You know he won’t give up on you easily. If you started spontaneously disintegrating tomorrow, he’d carve out pieces of himself just to keep you whole. There is no way in hell he’ll let a little cold take you from him.

“Y’see that?” You lift your head sluggishly to see a small opening tucked into the drop off of a very large, rocky hill. “Just gotta make it there, alright?”

You try for an ‘okay’ but all that comes out is a small hum as you slump further against him. Maybe you’ve relaxed too much, “M’ tired.”

“I know, darlin’, I know.” The pet name sparks something in you, and you try to foster it, let it liven you up a little. Darlin’ Darlin’ Darlin’ like a mantra over and over in your head. He squeezes your arm roughly, and you peel your eyes open as he pleads, “Just a little further n’ you can sit down, okay? Promise.”

Sit down, not sleep. You know you can’t sleep until you’re not at risk of freezing to death anymore. By the time you reach your destination, you can barely feel your fingers and toes.

Joel has to duck to get the two of you out of the cold and into the cave, but he manages. It’s warmer in here, you think. Although maybe its not warmth, but just the absence of the wind nipping at your skin. You’re a little alarmed that you can’t tell the difference.

Sliding down the wall to sit clumsily, you watch him as he slings both his and your packs from his shoulders. You vaguely wonder when he’d managed to take yours. The zipper clinks sharply as he sets it down and reminds you suddenly.

“The CD.”

He frowns, “Huh?”

“Ellie’s birthday gift.” You clarify through the haze rolling over your brain. “The ‘Heart’ CD. I left it.”

He blows a short huff out his nose as he reaches into his back pocket, sliding said object from the denim and giving it a waggle.

“Oh.”

Breathing a very small laugh, he shakes his head, “You’re welcome.”

Theres a short lull, although it feels like longer. He looks you over, jaw working before, “You’re gonna have to strip.”

You blink owlishly, “Huh?”

Cheeks and neck flushing a lovely rose, he clears his throat, “Your clothes are soaked. You’ll freeze if you keep ‘em on.”

“Oh.” That checks. You’re sure your face would be on fire if your blood wasn’t slush in your veins, “Right.”

Tentatively, you attempt to peel your jacket off while he unrolls his sleeping bag, but your arms won’t cooperate with you. They’re slow and hard to maneuver. It feels more like operating two arcade crane machines simultaneously, and you huff after failing to get the cuff of your sleeve unstuck from your wrist.

“Here.” He sighs, kneeling in front of you to tug it the rest of the way off and toss it aside. It’s stiff as it lands, mostly frozen. When he looks back at you, the corners of his mouth twist down, and he takes one of your cheeks in a big, calloused hand, thumbing under your eye. You were right. It does encompass nearly the entire side of your face.

“What?” You ask weakly, head lolling until the full weight of it rests in his palm.

“Nothin’.” He replies quietly, shaking his head. You watch his gaze dip to the hem of you shirt before it meets yours again, wary, “Can I... You want help?”

All you can do is nod. It’ll be quicker – safer – if he does it for you, you justify, as he carefully slips his fingers just under the hem and lifts. His knuckles feel like brands where they brush over your ribs, and you jolt reflexively.

He pulls it over your head and off your arms, “You alright?”

“F-Fine.” Just being undressed by the man you think you’re in love with. No big deal.

He gets off your boots next. Wetting his chapped lips briefly, his fingers twitch as he glances down at your jeans, “These too?”

It takes a second for you to realize he’s not asking if you want them off, but rather if you want help getting them off. You swallow, then through chattering teeth, “Uh-huh.”

Wordlessly, he undoes the button, then the zipper without dawdling, strictly business. You plant your palms and use what little strength you have left to lift your butt from the floor so he has room to wiggle them down your thighs. They slip over your calves and past your ankles with ease, taking your socks with them.

“You, uh...” Again, he clears his throat. “You can get in the sleeping bag ‘fore you take off the rest.”

Drawing your knees in makes your bones ache, and you list to one side when you attempt to shift your weight forward onto your feet. He catches you roughly by the shoulders and soothes, “Easy. C’mere.”

He helps you over and into the sleeping bag, zipping you up. It takes effort, but you manage to unhook your bra, throwing it near your other clothes weakly. Joel’s got a gloomy look on his face as he scrubs a large hand over the length of your bicep. The warmth from the friction seeps through the fabric and into your skin, but it doesn’t feel like enough.

“You’re wet too.” He looks down at himself at your observation. The front of his clothes are indeed wet. The fact that he’s not near freezing is a miracle.

He hums, hand still heavy on your arm, “Only got one sleepin’ bag.”

“Body heat. S’ better for kee-keepin’ warm anyway, right?” A strange look crosses his face, then, and you feel a little silly for suggesting it. “Only if you want.”

Only if he’s comfortable.

Tentatively, he asks, “You alright with that?’

“Mm-hm.” It sounds too eager. You’re too tired to care.

He hesitates a moment, before nodding, “Alright.”

You mourn the loss of his touch briefly as he stands, moving your packs closer before sliding off his jacket. He lifts his shirt just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the soft slope of his abdomen before seemingly remembering himself.

“Don’t look.” He mumbles, suddenly shy. You do as he says, listening to the shucking of fabric, the clinking of his belt buckle, the zipper of his jeans.

The soft sound of socked feet padding quickly over stone as he rushes to escape the cold. He hisses as he slots himself in behind you.

“Christ, woman, you’re like ice.” His skin is blessedly warm as his torso presses hot against your back.

“Think I don’t know that?” You quip with no malice, body wracked with shivers that aren’t entirely to blame on the cold anymore.

Puffs of his breath fan over your ear as he chuckles, “Wasn’t thinkin’ when I said it. Sorry.”

“S’ okay.” You lift your head so he has space to stretch out his arm, and the curve of your cheek bone fits snuggly into the crook of his elbow. You find his bicep makes a very comfortable pillow, “Your arm’s gonna fall asleep.”

“You comfortable?” He asks, and you nod, “Then I don’t much care.”

You pray he can’t feel your heart palpitating in your chest as you whisper, “Okay.”

The heat radiating off of him could rival a space heater cranked up to the highest setting. It’s doing wonders, thawing your own body and slowly bringing your temperature back up to something more human, less breathing corpse. He’s stiff as a board, though. The arm that isn’t under your head must be tucked tight against his side, and his bare legs are as far from yours as he can get them in the too-small sleeping bag. You want him and his warmth closer.

“You can touch me, Joel.” He stills, and it occurs to you how that must have sounded. “I mean, you’re not going to make me uncomfortable. You can relax.”

“Alright.” His voice is a low rumble in your ear as his hand just barely creeps over your bare waist. He’d be leaving goosebump in his wake if they weren’t already there. “This okay?”

It takes a moment to find your voice.

“Yeah.” It feels funny in your throat. You swallow in an attempt to fix it, “S’ good.”

You feel him finally relax, and try not to jump when he snakes his arm – his very naked arm – around your front, forearm flush against the soft flesh of your stomach and knuckles a little more than a hairs width from the underside of your breast. If you tilted your head just a bit and strained your eyes all the way to the side, you think you could catch a glimpse of his collarbone. You’re too cozy in his hold to move.

“Feelin’ any warmer?” Eyelids fluttering, you hum contentedly. The tip of his nose smushes firm into your shoulder as he murmurs, “Can’t fall asleep yet.”

“Please?” It must come out strangely by the way his breath hitches, “M’ warm enough. Swear.”

“That’s a load a bull if I ever heard it.” He snorts. The vibrations of his voice leave your skin humming, and it coaxes you further into him, “You’re lukewarm at best.”

“Word’s got ‘warm’ in it, doesn’t it?”

He tuts at you. You can hear his smile as he grumbles, “Don’t get smart with me.”

“You love it.”

He chuckles in strange way, “I do.”

Silence. Laying in his arms comes more naturally to you than it probably should. Especially given the fact that the two of you are mostly naked. And warm. So, so warm. Fatigue weighs down your eyelids. You’ve done so much today, you deserve the rest, it whispers.

“You fallin’ asleep over there?”

“Mm-mm.” You grumble, peeling your eyes wide open for a second to wake yourself some before they slide halfway shut again of their own accord, “Some old man keeps yapping in my ear every time I drift off.”

“You watch your mouth.” He growls, joking. Something stirs in your belly. You curse yourself for being too tired and too weak to do anything about it.

You settle for teasing instead. “Or what?”

He scoffs, “Frozen half to death, but still got ‘nough brains to give me lip, huh?”

“Mm-hm.” More silence. The sound of his breathing starts to lull you away into something too far from consciousness, and you drag yourself from it woefully, “F’ you want me to stay awake, you’re gonna have to talk my ear off, cowboy.”

“‘Bout what?”

“Anything.” Everything. Even if you weren’t trying to stay awake for the sake of staying alive, you’d let him ramble about whatever he wanted as long as he’d let you listen.

“Alright.”

He talks about the things he has to do when you get back to Jackson. Apparently, his work room needs a good tidying. When that gets too dull, he tells you about the movie he and Ellie watched last week for movie night. He asks obvious questions throughout explanations to keep you awake. ‘The guy working with the small green... thing, what was his name again? Right, now where was I?’ It feels like a good few hours before he lets you start to drift off. You fall asleep to the sound of his voice, the feel of his warm body tucked in close to your back, and dream of deep space and empires beyond your comprehension.

---

By the time you wake, sunlight is pouring in through the mouth of the cave, and the snow just beyond burns a horizon into your vision when you blink your eyes open. You stretch your legs out a little only to find them tangled between Joel’s. The movement must wake him because he takes a slow, sleepy breath, and squeezes closer.

“Joel?” You breathe. He startles.

“Wh-?” His head lifts and he tightens his hold on you for a split second, head on a swivel. When he realizes there’s no threat, he sighs heavily. You shudder when his arm slides over your bare stomach as he moves to scrub a hand over his face, “Christ.”

“Sorry.”

“S’ fine. My fault for fallin’ asleep.” He drawls, voice gravelly. You shift, and he scoots back just enough to let you turn over, “Time is it?”

“Definitely past dawn.” His eyes dart behind you, and he scowls at the sun. Yours follow the lean tendon in is neck as he lets his head fall back, and you suppress the urge to trace the length of it with your finger.

He curses, and it occurs to you that he hasn’t made much of an effort to disentangle himself from you. Now of sounder mind and warmer body, you notice the hair of his legs prickling against yours. You notice your bare chest pressed close to his, the steady rise and falls of them both as your breaths sync. Eyes trail up his collar, his neck, his face. Russet eyes bore into yours, and your breath hitches. They flick down to your lips. The little space left between you is charged; static electricity that spiders over your skin and lifts the hair on your arms.

“You, uh,” His hand skims over your skin once more; gentle, tentatively affectionate, as if he’s afraid to touch you now that you aren’t in need of his warmth. It settles into the curve of your waist like it’s meant to be there. He’s still staring at your lips. “You feelin’ any better?”

“Yeah.” You breathe. He looks back up at you, then, “Much.”

“Good.” He murmurs just as soft. His eyes dip back down to your lips.

You must be dreaming. Or dead. Or some other state of being beyond reality. Because there is no way he’s leaning in. There’s no way the tip of his nose is brushing yours. There’s no way he’s close enough that you can feel each one of his exhales fanning over your mouth.

“Joel...” It comes out a sigh, barely audible. You’re not even sure you’ve actually said anything aloud until he responds.

“Tell me to stop.” The words leave his lips in a low whisper and settle heavy on yours. You hold your breath as his hand sweeps over your ribs, the length of your collar. It envelops the entire side and back of your neck, igniting your skin as he draws a feather-like line over the edge of your jaw, “Tell me to stop, n’ I will.”

Any minute now, your heart is going to burst through your ribcage. You’re sure of it. Mind blank, you can’t think of anything to say. But you don’t want him to stop. You’ll never want him to stop. A shuddered breath, and you timidly press your the tip of your nose into the apple of his cheek, lips barely a hairs width from his. He turns his face just so, and you almost jump when his cupid’s bow just barely grazes your upper lip.

Your name sounds from somewhere far away, followed by his. The two of you startle, and in an instant, the moment is gone.

“Goddamn it, Tommy.” He huffs under his breath, rolling out of your space as much as he’s able within the confines of the sleeping bag. As glad as you are that someone’s found you, the man’s timing could not be any fucking worse.

“We best get dressed.”

“Yeah.” Your cheeks warm as he begins shimmying out from next to you, gaze catching on his broad chest, the soft muscle of his stomach, the hair trailing from his abdomen down somewhere lower, beneath the thin fabric of his boxers. You close your eyes before you can see anything more.

With him gone, you’re cold again. The frigid air nips at your bare chest, and you snuggle deeper into the sleeping bag until he’s done dressing. His clothes appear to be dry and fit to wear again. Yours are a different story, frozen solid in the shapes they landed in when you tossed them into a pile last night.

“Here.” Something soft plops down in front of your face, and when you open your eyes, there’s a stack of messily folded clothes on the stone floor with a sheepish looking Joel bent over his backpack a little ways away, “You can borrow those.”

Something warm and syrupy fills your chest and squishes between your ribs as you murmur, “Thanks.”

Keeping his gaze on the floor, he only hums in response. You take that as your cue to slide yourself out of the warmth of the sleeping bag. The only thing of yours that doesn’t need to be thawed is your bra, though it’s still cold against your skin as you slide your arms through the straps. Joel’s long sleeve is next. It’s soft, and smells like cedar and something uniquely him. You resist the urge to bury your nose in the fabric, too afraid he’ll decide to look up and catch you doing it.

When you’re done, you make your way to him and catch the quick once over he gives you.

“Like what you see?” You grin. He rolls his eyes.

He jerks his nose in the direction of your belongings, grumbling, “Get your stuff.”

You oblige, slinging your pack over your shoulders and stepping out into the sun after him. It blinds you, and the backs of your eyes ache as you blink to adjust them to the light. Luckily, the weather is significantly better today. No unexpected squalls, blue skies, and just a little warmer than yesterday.

“Tommy?” Joel suddenly calls out into the woods, his volume startling you bad. He grimaces, looking disproportionately apologetic, “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” You scoff, grinning playfully and shaking your head, “Nuh-uh, that was totally unforgivable.” You bump his shoulder with yours, “You’re really gonna have to make up for that.”

A dampened smile turns the corners of his mouth up as he bumps you back lightly, breathing a laugh, “Not a chance.”

“Joel?” Tommy calls back, closer than before. “This way!”

He’s brought a search party. A fair sized one, judging by how many voices respond at varying distances. It’s not long until you spot two people on horseback through the trees, one with familiar curls and a newer face with sandy blonde hair.

“Joel!” Tommy sounds utterly relieved as he slides off his gelding and engulfs him in a hug, clapping him over the shoulders before pushing him back, stern, “What the hell happened? We all thought you’d gotten yourselves killed!”

“One of us almost did.” Joel mutters, shooting a look at you. “Twice.”

Tommy gawps, looks like he’s about to ask before sighing in resignation. “You can tell me about it on the way home. Ellie’s been losin’ her mind since last night. Girl hasn’t slept a wink. Had to keep an eye on her to make sure she didn’t take off to find y’all by herself in the dark.”

Joel tuts and shakes his head, scrubbing a hand over his face, “You find our horses?”

“Yeah, Maria and Bev found ‘em early this mornin’.” He leads the two of you back towards his horse. “You’ll have ‘ta ride back with us.”

“I’ll ride with Jamie.” Jamie’s sort of new to Jackson, newer to you considering you’ve only been there about a year and he’s got a quarter more on you. He’s friendly, you like him. You have a feeling Joel holds a very different sentiment as he glowers, displeased as the man helps you up.

“Hold on tight.” He grins. Joel looks about one more dazzling smile from murdering him in cold blood.

He’s quiet the whole ride back, broody with his face set in a scowl. Tommy makes conversation here and there, asks what happened again and nearly breaks his neck when he whips his head to look at you in shock. You get similar reactions when you make it back to Jackson and explain.

“Joel!” Ellie flings herself at him and nearly bowls him over in her rush to hug him. You’re next, though with noticeably less force. You must still look a little rough, “What the hell happened?”

“We were passin’ over the lake n’ she fell through the ice.” He omits the part before that where you’d nearly gotten your face eaten by an infected, and for that, you’re thankful.

She pales, looking at you like you’ve grown an extra head, “You what?!”

“I’m fine.” You rush to reassure, glaring at Joel where he’s slipping the reigns off Tommy’s horse out of the corner of your eye, “It’s nothing to worry about now.”

“Like hell it ain’t.” He grumbles under his breath as he carefully slips the bit from the horse’s mouth and gives him a pat on the cheek, muttering a clipped ‘hey’ when you thwack his shoulder as hard as you’re willing. He gives Ellie a short, well meaning lecture that’s met with a very prompt dismissal consisting of some very colourful language as you move to help Jamie with his mare. Maria stops you with a hand on your wrist.

“Jamie’s got it, you go home. I don’t want to see you working for the next couple of days, alright?”

“But-?”

She cuts you off with a firm shake of her head. “That wasn’t a suggestion.”

“Alright.” You sigh, handing Jamie the reigns. As you’re leaving, you barely catch Joel whisper a ‘thank you’ to her and whip around to glower at him. “You’re responsible for my involuntary sick leave?”

“Necessary sick leave. And no, I’m not. You’re just known to be lackin’ in the self preservation department, so we gotta have some for you.” He teases, bumping your shoulder a little in a way you think is supposed to be playful. “C’mon. I’m walkin’ you home.”

“Yeah? Finally done with your brooding?”

He clicks his teeth, “M’ not brooding.”

“Not now, but you were.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Quit it.” He breathes a laugh, shaking his head. You grin, victorious.

“I’m serious, you scowled the whole way back. Between the cold and the time it took to get here, I was a little worried your face would get stuck like that. I’d never get to see that charming smile again.”

He rolls his eyes. “How would you ever survive?”

You both chuckle, before falling into comfortable silence. You pass house after house, before taking a right onto your street. Through their front window, you can see a couple you’ve yet to meet properly stands in their living room, swaying in an embrace, gazing at each other with an appreciation you only come to grasp when you’ve nearly lost someone. The man slides a hand from her waist to her cheek, thumbing the underside of her eye, and you’re reminded of the feel of Joel’s calloused palm holding your frigid cheek.

You frown, pulling your prying eyes from the sweet scene as you near your own home, “Hey, why’d you... hold my face for a second out there?”

He flushes, clears his throat with a frown, “Your pupils were so big, could barely see any colour.”

As you reach your porch, he looks deep in thought and- Worried? Rattled, maybe. Moreso as he softly admits, “You scared the hell outta me, y’know.”

“Yeah, I know.” In a rare act of bravery, you take his warm hand and squeeze, gazing at him earnestly, “I’m really sorry.”

He visibly softens, the perpetual wrinkle in his brow smoothing into something warmer, a little hesitant, dare you say even timid. You watch his gaze flick over your face before he squeezes back cautiously, “S’alright. Was my fault. Knew we shouldn’t a’ crossed that way this time a’ year.”

“Don’t blame yourself. I suggested it, it was my fault, too.” You reply, firm but gentle.

He looks down with a hum, scuffing the toe of a heavy boot over the concrete path that leads to your house. There’s a small silence, and you’re trying to find the words to assure him you were both idiots for trying to pass over that damn lake when he pipes up again.

“I meant it, before,” He smiles cautiously, unsure of himself, “Don’t ever pull shit like that again.”

You laugh, glad the mood has shifted to something lighter, still holding his hand as you shake your head, “I meant it too! I didn’t do it on purpose.”

He chuckles, looking down to your linked hands. You watch his expression carefully, and something bittersweet twists his lips when he gives yours one last squeeze before pulling away.

“See you ‘round, yeah?” Your heart sinks to your stomach and hollows it out, making room for a strange disappointment. Something that feels a little like grief as you watch what could have been as it slips through your fingers and takes half a step back from your porch.

“Yeah.” It soughs out on a breath that leaves your lungs too quick, and you take another, controlled and slow. You nod, smile tight lipped, “See you around, Joel.”

You turn, make it up the wooden steps of your porch and through the threshold of your door. It shuts, and you just stand there, snow melting off of your boots and coat and soaking into the door mat below. It feels wrong, leaving whatever happened between you undiscussed, and the hollow feeling pulses achingly in your throat. There’s something there, something palpable. Something that could be real, if only you would reach for it. You wish he would have reached for it. You wish you would reach for it now. But it’s impulsive. It’s reckless. He knows that, that’s why he left it alone. It needs more thought, you rationalize.

You turn on your heel and reach for the door handle. He’s already standing there with a hand raised to knock when it opens, looking as startled as you are.

“Listen, I-.” He clears his throat, shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket. It’s endearing to see him so bashful, “What happened out there... I couldn’t not say somethin’.”

There’s too much air in your chest. Your vocal cords feel more like wind chimes – unpredictable, and at the mercy of something more so. You don’t trust your breath to sway them the way you want them to.

“Yeah?” You try anyway. It drifts out soft and hangs in the air.

“Yeah.” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, glances over your shoulder with a sniff, then chuckles nervously, “Hadn’t actually thought about what that somethin’ would be ‘fore I did this.”

You chuckle with him; startled, shy.

“Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?” He asks like it’s easy, but the colour in his cheeks give him away. They’re a bit too pink for it to be just a cold flush.

Your stomach does a strange flip. You’ve waited months for him to ask, too afraid to ask yourself without knowing what his answer might be. You dig your thumbnail into the side of your index finger and rejoice at the pinch. He’s real, and he’s really asking.

The sound you make is halfway between a laugh and a sigh, “This is a little backwards, isn’t it?”

He frowns. “What d’you mean?”

“I mean, usually you take a lady out to eat before you sleep with her.” You simper, your teasing tentative. He stares at you, stunned, for a long, unbelievably nerve wracking moment.

“I take it back. I’ll eat by myself.” He laughs, shaking his head. He stays standing on your porch.

“Wha-,” You gape, laughing as you thwack his arm, “Hey, you already offered, you can’t take it back now!”

He smiles so terribly, wonderfully soft. “So I take it you do, then?”

God, it has to be illegal to look at someone like that, you think. It’s got to be some sort of health hazard, the way you feel as though you might just go into cardiac arrest right here on your porch. You smile, giddy and trying your damndest to smother it into something just a little less eager, “I’d love to have dinner with you, Joel.”

“How ‘bout tomorrow night? My place?”

“Yeah.” You can’t help the grin that sneaks up on you, “Yeah, that’d be good.”

He smiles back, soft and warm in a way you have a feeling is reserved for you, “Pick you up a six.”

“You’re right across the street, Joel.” You laugh, gesturing to the house maybe fifty paces from yours if you took long enough strides.

He chuckles along with you, “So?”

“So, I could just come over.”

“You could.” He shrugs a shoulder, grinning something that makes him look years younger; the ghost of a cheeky, twenty-something year old buried under as many years and then some, breathing his first breath in decades with heartbeat restored, “But what kind a’ gentleman would I be if I didn’t walk you there?”

“Alright.” You smile soft, committing his expression to memory. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Countin’ the minutes.” He takes your hand again and steps in close, leaning in to press his warm lips to the apple of your cheek, beard prickling ticklishly. Good god, you can’t feel your legs. Your is heart bouncing between your ribs so quick its making you a little lightheaded. You wonder if he’s grinning because he could feel the heat rising off your skin. He squeezes your tingling fingers and lets his slide from them slow like he’s loathe to leave. “See you ‘round.”

“See you around, Joel.”

[omamorens]

Do you have any HCs with Ivy and Ink Blade?

OH BOY IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE. ivy is a very interesting character to me (fhjy spoilers: and im glad she survived). tho people might not really like her that much, i think shes neat and could have a lot of nuances if her character could be explored enough

ivy (pre and post shatter-star) is a regina george mean girl but with pop-punk rock aesthetics.

she’s a girls girl and much like her canon, she loves fashion.

loves fashion in a sense that she loves it for Herself and not because she wants to impress anyone.

she does not give a shit about what anyone thinks of her actually, and that generally comes off as “mean”.

ivy only sees her attitude as a filter for those too weak to be acquainted with her.

though she has a hard exterior, she does have a soft spot for those who could actually stick by her.

riding off on that “loves fashion” part, i think ivy is particularly good at finding good deals and the best bargains. she doesn’t go for the most expensive stuff because that’s just wasteful.

she’s the type of friend you want to go to the flea market with because this girl drives a hard bargain.

riding off of that, ivy always takes oisin out to shop because there’s not a lot of dragonborn-proof clothes for him so when they do find stuff, its too expensive to be worth it unless ivy is the one bargaining for him.

oisin is always grateful of her for it.

in her shatter-star state, ivy’s “mean” attitude got nastier and more cruel

ivy has a hard time asking for forgiveness (oisin will tell you that she almost never says the word “i’m sorry” genuinely), but she does it in her own way.

sometimes when she passes by mazey in the halls, ivy genuinely compliments the bard on her badidas.

“nice shoes. they’re the 90’ exclusive line, right? those were the best quality shoes they released. such a shame their next series went downhill from there.”

mazey, apprehensive of ivy at first but open to having this conversation with her, “no, yeah, you’re absolutely right. these are the only pairs i can both dance and fight in. its been a year but theyre still going strong.”

and the girls continue talking about finding the best deals and the most practical clothing they could have as adventurers. fabian is not very happy about this.

mazey of course is not required to forgive ivy for things she said and done, and ivy is not at all actively seeking for verbal forgiveness anyway

but they can be courteous to each other and bond over similar interests

lucy, being a frost genasi, absolutely knows how to knit. she knits her own clothes sometimes because not much clothing items in stores have her size.

when ivy found out about this during freshman year, ivy asked lucy to teach her and they absolutely bonded over knitting.

at some point both the girls have knitted some stuff for all the members of their party.

everyone still keeps their knitted gifts, even if they’re frayed or have grown too small for them to use.

surely i will have more to write on her character but for now these are what i have on the top of my head. ivy embra they dont get you like i do (ivy hcs with inkblade i will continue in another post because this one got too long)

[izel-reblogs]

noooo I can’t be on anon oh well anyways I came over here to scream at you

I FUCCCKKKIKNHHDSHSBNSMZKZKZKZK LOVE HOW YOU DRAW PEOPLE I WILL LITERALLY COMBUST !!!!!! ITS SO SIMPLE YET DISTINCT AND IT FEELS REAL AND I WANT TO DRAW MEN AS HOT AS YOU IDK HOW YOU DO IT THEYRE ALL MAGNIFICENT AND I WANT TO CHEW ON THEM !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEYRE GONNA GET M E THROUGH THE SCHOOL YEAR COLLEGE IS STRESSFUL BUT NOT WHEN YOU HAVE LEE DRAWING BEAUTIFUL MEN YOU CAN STARE AT !!!!!! always and forever obsessed with your Oscar he’s so handsome and stunning and beautiful and he wouldn’t do it but I’d ask him to crush me anyway he’s soooo bbg I should ask my gf if she’s okay with me having a second wife because I will wed that man. OKAY MOVING ON absolutely invest in some alcohol markers even if you have to plead and beg oh they’re so worth it maybe even wait a bit and ask for a giant pack of em for like Christmas or ur birthday or something because those go a long way hot dammnnnn also ur so right about our John’s being twinsies bc I must admit I had struggled to draw him how I was picturing him until I perused your art of him and then it all clicked and I was like yeah that’s him Lee’s human John is the canon human John to me what can I say uh sorry anyway I should leave I have gay men I should be drawing ughjdhshsj just know I will explode into a thousand little pieces whenever you post that blindfaith art I actually don’t think I’ll survive tell my wife I love her and that I leave my tumblr account, my cult members, and my podcast men art to her

(camera pans away from you, turning to me, lying on the floor completely dead clutching my phone to my chest)

NO STOP IT. YOU DONT GET TO UNO REVERSE ME. I AM THE ONE WHO SENDS INSANE FANGIRL ASKS AROUND HERE, COMPRENDE???? /j

aAJDSLKJFLSKDJLFKJSLDKF YOURE LITERALLY ONE OF MY IDOLS REGARDING ART I AUDBILY SQUEAKED UPON RECELIVING THIS ASK SLDKFJLSKDJF KREIJFOERMFOAIFOMSDJLFJSD

[choco-1601]

Hey, sorry you got that nasty message. People can be so rude sometimes! Personally, as a closeted morston shipper, I like your posts and think you should keep them up!

I guess this IS an ask box, so I was wondering how do you see morston working out within the parameters of canon lore? Judging from some (I'm assuming) deleted voice files, Rockstar might've wanted to hint at the idea of John having a "crush" on Arthur, even though Arthur is VERY uninterested in dating (canonically speaking). Would it be a sort of unrequited love ordeal?

Sorry, this turned into a longer ask than expected, lol. Hope you are having a good day!

Yeah its just how it is. I closed off my replies and dms from outsiders. Its sad some people even get harassed until they stop altogether ☹️

Also i love ur question bc i love seeing them from a canon pov. The way i see it..yes i believe that john had a crush on him and him running away had smth also to do with arthur..

i wouldnt say its unrequited in a way bc sometimes arthur acts questionable around him. Like in the bridge mission.. Arthur was asking john to leave bc “it would make me feel..good ig” and he was looking away all shy. Then when breaking john out of jail, Arthur called for john so softly…and then him not letting go of john’s hands in the cutscene where he says “i dont want u to look back” (the one in the forest)

I just feel like john’s crush on him faded after he realised he doesn’t have any chance of calling arthur his. He got abigail pregnant..and also further messed up their relationship by running away. The thing is..it is canon that arthur was the most hurt by this.. holding grudge for that long (unnecessarily so imo) but he wasnt even that mad about john leaving abigail and his son bc in his words those r “marston’s business”. He was more upset about john leaving the gang..which is funny bc even dutch and hosea welcomed him back quickly. So technically speaking..it hurt him the most.

They just give me mutual pining vibes in the slightest..or we can say it went from unrequited love from John’s side to unrequited love from Arthur’s side if that makes sense lol.

I could never see them tgt in the canon..they were always meant to be doomed by narrative. But if Arthur survived his TB and somehow met marston then mayyyybeeeee 👀

Sorry for the super long reply i just got excited to answer after seeing ur question lol. Have a great day/night 💜

[ask-steven-stevenson]

“So, it's come down to this, eh? Fine. For once,I'm not running away. I am Scott Cawthon,your manager, and you employee are FIRED”

make sure to scroll down! below all the rules and small facts, there is a whole list on what kind of coding generation one/Steven has.

Main @employee432-timekeeper

Ask: CLOSED. revamped version here:

@ask-the-bastard-boss

HERE IS A LIST OF ALL TAGS AND ANONS.; https://www.tumblr.com/ask-steven-stevenson/763615584342753280/quick-mod-post-i-will-be-linking-this-in-the

Some quick rules!

•please only platonic asks. Hugs are alright. But that is all.

•Cross fandoms and oc are alright, if not highly encouraged.

•for the sake of everyone and mod; stop with the destruction asks. It’s getting old. Teleporting is okay! Just stop trying to blow shit up.

•Ocs/Rp is okay !! If not highly encouraged! Have fun with it ^^

•Please Don’t spam if I dont do your ask. I either missed it on accident or it wasn’t in lines with the rules

•Be nice to each other, please? Don’t get mad at each other about asks

•If I am uncomfortable with an ask I will be deleting it.

•you can indeed bully Steven, I do not mind. Just; don’t tell him anything NSFW about his dad or family to him.

•Most importantly!! Have fun

Other information!

•Somewhat DSAF 1 canon! Though hes less of an ass. (Not by much.)

•He has kids, Chat. (Aka the two from DSAF 1

•Steven goes by he/him or Sly/Slys

•I will admit. He can be rather egotistical! Especially when it comes to any mention of Fazbender’s.

•Will also add on. He can/is VERY self centered. So, yeah.

• Sly and Jake have kids! Who they are very protective over. (Dadven!)

•Steven has Autism.

•Not always an ass on purpose. But, mostly is on purpose

•He is GAY. Man kisser.

•It has stickers all over his phone head, most are from kids the others are from employees.

•small update(s): FOR THE THIRD AND HOPEFULLY LAST TIME; I have gave him an official Boyfriend/Husband. -> @ask-jake-wilson

+It has a tail

+ It has its model number engraved on the under side of the phone shell

+When the Colorado location burned down. He was still inside. However, he was able to escape at the price of his voice box becoming melted.

*if you are interested. His voice would basically sound like Mind from Chonny Jash.

Some sillies;

@ask-jake-wilson -His husband!!

@ask-the-clock-man -(one) of his employees..

@the-desolate-location - Him in the future. (Bad ending.)

That’s it for now! Me hopes you all enjoy

(Also note; sometimes I forget stuff, so I may add some extra information. Though small details, its still thing I would wish to mention..) Generation one coding: - Though during the process of becoming a phone, the memory is wiped. However, not fully. If one were to act quick enough after one DID act quick enough, there is a small chance that they COULD regain some memories (Like what happened to Harry.)However, the longer you wait; the less use it is to try and regain their 'old personality' back. - Most Generation one phoney's don't see them as real people. They see themselves as managers, even as going far as to say; they think they are Scott. While they may have it in their coding. Some will take it too far, while others may be calmer about it. -With that, a follow up would be; Due to their faulty coding (due to the fact that they were 'rushed' into production. They are seen as strict, uncaring or cold by Employees and others. Due to their reputation, most see them as 'Robotic.' Some don't see them as real, after all while they can express their emotions, they try not to show it much.

-With that in mind, they are rather protective of their said restaurant. Just like how he was in dayshift one. Willing to do anything and everything to make sure he doesn't get closed down.

As for the timeline, I am still working on it, but the biggest change is Steven survived dsaf1 due to Jack/Dave actually going to jail.

[lets-jam]

1, 7, 16

im gonna do this for 2077, tho if anyone else does one feel free to specify a fandom

1 - the character everyone gets wrong

hmmm a tie for me between alt and goro takemura. alt ranges from like a generic 'good woman' to the far more common evil manipulative bitch which like. id be more upset about but given we get NOTHINGGGGGGG in terms of content for her about her like i cant get TOOO mad... I GUESS. i just certainly think shas far more multifaceted or SHOULD be far more multifaceted than.... whatever the hell we got. like i think theres something interesting with her setup being like 'sharp netrunner who got hired to make something she probably very well knew was... designed to kill people and could and would be used to kill people, who had her 'curiosity take over' (some fact i heard somewhere) but then also chickened out n tried to stop it last minute, and ultimately was one of the first subjects it was used on killing her body and forever changing her entire being, being forced to survive in a cuthroat alien world of no human basis despite still 'thinking' like a human, being even more forever changed by that and like kinda playing with this idea that yeah it is unfortunate that like traumatic shit not of our choosing can like irreparably change us not for the better, and that we can have dignity/human-ness given back to us by being treated as such even if its alien to her now. course like then its... id prefer her story not being so weirdly tied to johnnys as like a girl he happened to be fucking because... she was there i guess. and thats our only like reference point for her. which is all to say she has the potential you know? and alot of people dont... get that imo. for a cyberpunk setting shes really interesting case of how/what gets treated as a human and what we do when we dont have that treatment/what we do when we're given it back smthn smthn at what point does a self end (with memories? with how we're perceived by others? etc etc) but of course we didnt get to deal with any of that cause the game refuses to even ask these questions about johnny in any real fun exploratory way. and shes only in the game cause johnny fucked her and accidentally killed her... so yeah. and then GORO god this is mostly just me beefing with all the fucking idiots horny for this guy and like he gets fics n posts made about him how he would 'abandon arasaka for youuuuuu 😚😚😚' no he wouldnt! you are literally peon trash to him! he was chosen by a god emperor and elevated in his mind! he straight up believes capitalistic order is fine cause who cares doesnt affect him anymore and its a necesarry thing! which i like! hes completely head over heels for his corporation like a true 'samurai' ie serving a lord above everything else, even 'warrior code' if that ever mattered to him. hes been deepthroating the boot for years n loves the taste! he has never once thought in his life that you were his equal, and he has never once thought of you as a friend he sees you as a true means to an end full stop! hes not some secretly good bushido samurai man! which like more people should run with! if he was given a choice between arasaka and your life he would choose arasaka 10 times over like, hes terrible and i like that, everyone else seems to not.

7 - what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

fandom antics have really made me dislike this one complete side character like this person has like 2 lines but caused such fights in the fandom that im like i guess this is real to you. some gay guy and some woman fought over this side characters sexuality and one like made some weird kin claim to posting edits of him and like!!!! sometimes i have to remember people are unwell. it was fun for a time to watch ppl bitch about that for a while n see all the vague posting that or goro for reasons stated above

16 - you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

lmao sex god johnny silverhand. and related to that johnnys hologram being able to physically interact with v outside their body... ppl took like some 'its there for the cinema' stuff where he shoves v and like grabs their hands and ran with it now we have hard light hologram sex everywhere... even tho ppl shouldve just gotten freaky with it and had them like possession mutually masturbating using vs body like them as a single...being, cause again vs body is the only real thing in this equation and id like abit more realism if im going into some silverv smut, but those are few and far between the hologram sex featuring hologram cum and hologram fingering it just bugs me casue like the draw for me at least is they cant interact like normal separate people, nor can they 'feel' as in feel things like normal separate people, nor ARE they normal separate people like their whole setup is weird, they are literally the same person!!!! and i hate it when people dont get weird n creative in those paramaters with what we're given. esp when johnny flat out says 'masturbation is the only way for us to have sex' too. plus i love the draw of not being able to love or live or interact like you want to... famously i love a 'love' that cant be for whatever reason, despite it being there real girl what were you doing at the devils sacrement self report but it did bug me

[victorluvsalice]

Happy Birthday Newt!

@dont-offend-the-bees A combination of you telling me that anything cute and Valicey would do as a birthday fic and me knowing that you are still into Saw as a fandom led to this -- Victor and Alice reacting to the first Saw movie, inspired by a couple of posts I saw on your blog before you moved all the Sawposting to The Secret Saw Sideblog! Though the fic is technically Valicer out of necessity, because the only way I could think of to get the pair to watch it was to have it be a Halloween Movie Nights pick by Smiler's friend Thirteen, as per this headcanon post...

--

“That is unfair!”

“What’s unfair?” Thirteen asked, looking over at Alice.

“The ending!” Alice said, waving at the slowly-rolling credits on the screen before them. “All Jigsaw said to Adam was that he had to survive until six o’clock, correct? Nothing else? No other secret catches?”

“Don’t ask me,” Victor muttered, hands over his face. “I am actively trying to erase this movie from my mind.”

“There there,” Smiler said, rubbing his back comfortingly. “You’ll be fine – and yeah, ‘survive until six’ was the gist of it,” they added to Alice.

“Well, six o’clock rolled around, and Adam was still alive!” Alice pointed out, stabbing another finger at the TV. “He was wounded, sure, but he was still very much fucking alive! Which means he succeeded! Lawrence was the one who failed in his goal! And yet Lawrence’s the one who gets to crawl off and seek help while Adam gets electrocuted and sentenced to – I guess starving to death in that horrible bathroom? All because he, unsurprisingly, didn’t notice a damn key in his bathtub when he first woke up?”

“You are assuming a lot in thinking Lawrence survived after–” Victor swallowed and shuddered. “After c-cutting off his own f-f-foot.”

“Actually, uh, it’s canon Lawrence survives,” Oblivion put in, sporting a slightly sheepish grin. “He shows up again in Saw 3D.”

“Oh great – when do we watch that one?”

“Don’t worry, we don’t have time for tonight,” Thirteen informed him with a cheeky smirk.

“What, because it’s long?”

“No, because it’s film number seven.”

That finally got Victor to look up. “It’s – wait, what?”

“Yeah, for some reason they decided to name it after the 3D gimmick instead of following the numbering system,” Rita explained, leaning around her girlfriend. “And then films eight and nine are Jigsaw and Spiral respectively, though Spiral’s actually more like a spin-off of the main series–”

“Can I please fully express my annoyance over the fact that Jigsaw killed Adam despite him winning his ‘game’ before we start talking about how this series screwed up its numbering system over halfway through?” Alice cut in, folding her arms and scowling.

“Well, the thing you have to understand about Jigsaw is – he’s a total asshole,” Thirteen reminded her. “He says that his games are to help ‘rehabilitate’ people and make them appreciate life and all that bullshit, sure, but honestly, I believe the dude just wants to torture as many people as he can, both before and after he bites it.”

“I can believe that,” Victor muttered, shivering. Smiler put a comforting arm around him. “And this is probably the least bloody of all the movies, isn’t it?”

“I haven’t seen them all, but I’m pretty sure it is, yes,” Galactica confirmed, giving him a sympathetic look from the other side of Oblivion. “You know, you could have left if you weren’t enjoying it – we wouldn’t have thought any less of you for it.”

“Yeah, I’m shocked you actually sat through the whole thing,” Smiler admitted, giving him a little squeeze.

“I am too, honestly,” Alice said, wrapping her arm around him to do the same. “I’m used to horrors like these – hell, the bathroom looked kind of like one I saw in Rutledge – but I know it’s not your cup of tea.”

“I thought it would be too rude to just get up and leave,” Victor groaned, putting his face in his hands again. “And I kept telling myself, ‘it’s the very first one, it can’t be that bad...’”

“We won’t make you watch any of the others,” Thirteen promised, patting his knee. “I mean, I appreciate you making the effort, but despite appearances, I don’t want you to have nightmares.”

“Thanks.” Victor shook his head. “I know you love that sort of thing, but – it’s just not for me.”

“Me either – especially if John Kramer can’t practice what he preaches,” Alice agreed, glaring at the screen as the DVD menu came up again.

“It’s actually not my favorite series either, if I’m honest,” Thirteen confessed. “I just like this one because of all the hot gay tension between Lawrence and Adam.”

“...there was a surprising amount of that,” Victor allowed.

“Mmm – though given Lawrence is married, he’d better start talking to his wife about either opening the relationship or getting a divorce before he hobbles his way back to that bathroom,” Alice declared.

“You know, I bet there’s a fic like that somewhere on AO3,” Smiler said, pulling out their phone. “Who wants to find a nice domestic AU to help us all decompress?”

[bokipop]

the maka ramble i mentioned because im still autistic

ok so im rewatching as i speak and like skipping through to find the evidence for my claims so claims will be in order of when they come to me

lesbian maka is canon because near the end of the first episode she's literally screaming about how she hates men and wishes they all would just die. i can literally never see maka in a relationship with a man other than MAYBE soul (DISCLAIMER i DO NOT ship soma i will die on the hill of qpp soul and maka) but thats only because she literally says as she's screaming about killing men that soul was the only man she ever decided to trust (this is a whole other segment that i may or may not discuss in this rant)

can we talk about the skill maka demonstrates when she's fighting with soul. she's what. 14? and she fights with aura of years of experience. like soul's pretty much just along for the ride it's maka who's doing all of the actual fighting 90% of the time (10% when soul's being a self sacrificing dipshit and jumps in front of a hit meant for her)

can we talk about how in uhhh episode 4 when they're fighting sid and sid like attacks maka with his gravestone and she says "people need fear to survive, we experience it so we can grow stronger" LORD DEATH IS SO RIGHT WITH THE COMMENT "if she wasn't afraid in this situation id call that reckless, but maka has the courage to fight in spite of her fear"

i saw a tumblr post about it but unrelated why does dtk say "my father's school is exactly like i expected" as if he hasn't been there before

also unrelated but BLAIR IS MY BIGGEST OPP SHE'S LITERALLY A PEDO I HATE HERRRRR

anyways can we also talk about how maka and soul did soul resonance without any warmup or discussion before hand it was just "hey lets do it" "ok" i mean yeah they missed the hit but they still did the skill

jumping wayy forward to the crona vs maka underground fight in ep20 can we talk about even just maka's intuition alone. like she had the vaguest hint of whatever she detected in crona's soul and decided to go full blast with it. adding onto that can we talk about her compassion and empathy? like it takes a truly good person to do what she did for crona and she did it without the expectation of anything in return she simply wanted to help them. she has such a strong and admirable moral compass i think i said this before but she's literally one of my biggest inspirations ever

i'd talk about the last episodes where maka goes inside soul's. soul. and saves him from the black blood but i dont feel like rewatching that entire episode right now and i've only seen that specific episode like twice so i cant do it from memory

but on the topic of soul and maka can we talk about their incredibly intricate bond. their trust in eachother is out of this fucking world liek if you asked either one of them "if x asked you to jump off of a bridge with them would you do it" they'd say yes without hesitation or second thought. they care so much for one another and i love how the writers of soul eater portrayed it without it being inherently romantic. i love male female duos who ARENT in love. have i mentioned how i'd die on the hill of qpp soma. THEY'RE QPPS YOUR HONOR. i had something very specific to say about this and then forgot. it'll probably come back to me later. its later as i type this specific sentence and it still hasn't come back to me so i'll probably end this post here. stay tuned for more i think i have more in me

[keruworld]

Why you should love Azuma Michinaga!

Actually Im not trying to convice anyone to like him. In fact if you hate him... go away plz XD... or if you want to read what I have to say... stay. OwO

I also im doing this because there’s a lot of unjustified hate towards him, that makes me wonder if we have watched the same show.

This is just my feelings about Michi... because it have been an experience to like him. He’s definitely not the type of character that I usually love, but here I’m loving him a lot. Shipping aside he’s definitely the best character in Geats for me. I will not cover shipping preferences in this because that could be another topic XD and you know... let’s be real, no matter who your fav ship in Geats is, it will never be canon. If Geats production team is pushing the AzuAce agenda is just marketing, they know very well that sells (and Im buying it XD).

I will also counter the usually speech of people that hate him: He’s evil, he kills people, he dont deserve redemtion arc... etc, etc... Excuse me? Have you pay attention to the show? Or we have not watched the same show?

So... let’s go to see why you should love Michinaga as much as Ace does:

Those that knows me or know this blog... know already that I hated 01! I was prepared to hate Geats the same way that I hated 01 just because Yuuya Takahashi (the main writer). I didnt expect to enjoy this series as much as I do now. Moreless to love a character as Michinaga: A tsundere boy, self centered with anger problems, revenge and the desire to crush all Kamen Riders. The boy sound exactly like everything that I could hate. X,D

Michinaga was my fav from Geats pressconference... why? because he looked like a Kamen Rider Blade character... in fact he looked like the combination of Kenzaki and Hajime. (and I still have my head canon that Michi is their son X,D But that’s for another post X,D).

So yeah my like for him in the beggining was just something totally unrelated to the show. Was just his looks. I didnt care at all for him in the first episodes... in fact I didnt care for anyone in the show. Nor Ace, Neon, or even Keiwa seems like good people to the heart in the beggining. Entering this DGP to fulfill their dreams and go with it without really asking why? how? and when? Ofc, this is what this story is about, specially with a main protagonist that we know nothing about.

Michinaga was an average character (may be annoying yes) till the moment he die in early episodes (ep 15 I believe), the scene of him dying in Ace arms was really significant, specially because is the first time we see the boy being true with his words, saying to Ace: Give me a reason to believe on you. before pass out.

 Before the episode, every interaction of Michinaga and Ace have been interesting... because indirectly Ace have been advising him, with words: if you dont give up the chance to win will came. Surely... in those episodes Ace didnt see Michinaga as a rival at all... may be just like an annoying lad. But everything change when he returned from the dead. And this is where Michanaga character turn to get interesting for saying the least.

This point is where Michinaga turns into what we call an antihero. He returns from dead to know the other side of the coin of the DGP. He was almost killed by Niram. He was picked up by Beroba like a playing toy without escape from the womans hand (she literaly says: join me or I kill you right here). Michinaga was pushed between the sword or the wall, something that haters tends to forget, he had no option to join to Beroba’s side (he didnt enjoy any of that).

I was totally amazed by Michinaga’s guts. The boy survived Niram deadly attack, like an annoying insect that wanted to survive. Then Michinaga state: FUCKS the DGP. He stated he wanted to crush the DGP now that he knows more than the facade. And I was: GO KING, TOTALLY DO IT, even if it destroys you!! TTATT

I became a fan of Michinaga’s guts. It was the begining of the arc 2 of the series, and I was annoyed that the series totally forgot about the mistery of the DGP and Ace and the others decided to go along with all the DGP rules. So I was all go Michi go Michi, even if he looks like he was suffering because the buckle. TTATT

In this point we could say that Michinaga changed. Even his primary objective of revenge changed. And I was puzzled like Ace was XD because I truly didnt know what to expect from Michi. He was bad?! What he wanted to do? What the fuck is he thinking? Why he didnt join forces with Ace and others?. Deep down inside I wanted to believe that Michi was a good person even if he was converting in a Jyamato, because he didn't enjoy any of it, he didn't laugh, he didn't smile, he even had to overcome the shadow of his friend, and he did in the most cold way possible.

We could safely say that Michi fighted to the top of his position to be consider Geats rival. I believe that by the end of the JGP, Ace totally considered Michi his equall, his rival. It’s character development at his finest.

Now, since the bullgame that Beroba trampled (because she always got in the way of the true intentions of Michinaga, but he go along with her just for reach his objective) we start to know that Michinaga is not all EVIL, he even did the Bullgame for stop the casualities. And everything starts to fit together like a puzzle.

Michinaga became the biggest hypocrite, he won even if costed him everything. And now he has the power that he wished for (and is using it for good, even Ace knows, thanks sukiyaki scene of ep36) and to this point he have joined sides with Ace to get down the DGP. I truly LOVE IT. Michiniga embodies what a Kamen Rider is to it’s core: fight evil with the power of evil.

About Michinaga being the biggest hypocrite, I just have to say that there’s no better thing than a hypocrite that knows that is hypocrite. You know... everyone in Geats is a hypocrite to a degree, even the goodest boy Keiwa, after all Geats goes by the premise: trample on the desires of others to achieve your desires.

That Michinaga don’t deserve redemption? Why? The boy havent been bad and evil, he didnt have any option than join Beroba’s side, he didnt kill people, and all the people that died in the heaven or hell game was casualities, like any other DGP game before it. Kamen Riders couldn’t save all the people in the DGP games, there have always been people that died (like Keiwa’s parents for example). The better that our Kamen Riders could do now is to get down the DGP, Ace and Michi knows... and its only matter of time that Keiwa joins them.

Now I could truly say that I’m enjoying Geats and all it’s cast. We still have time for the power ups and for all the boys and girl to act as true Kamen Riders.

It’s a shame that Geats is not the best, but is not the worse either. I’m aware of it’s faults, may be there have been too much focus on Michi (and haters gona hate X,D)... but come on he’s great, and it’s obvious that his spotlight will have to tone down this last part.

Now there’s a lot of tiny details to say about Ace and the others (Keiwa, Neon) and also about the production, but probably I will write about it till Geats ends. We still have the last quarter to watch, there’s still things to happen. So I will wait till the end.

Thank you if you have read till here. Let’s all love Michi, because he’s more than a tsundere boy with anger problems. He’s a good boy to the heart, he’s a good little bull! U3U And like Ace, Keiwa and Neon... he deserves to be happy and smile from the bottom of his heart. TTATT

[robulz]

Denmark, 0! (I'm so glad they added an all option!)

!!! ok here we go :D

1) what would their social media page/activity be like: i've discussed this w/ a friend but i think denmark is the most technologically capable after sweden! i think on twitter he's a little more professional (but he loves rting feel-good stuff) BUT he shines on insta. it's full of artsy pictures of the danish countryside and embarrassing videos of him and his friends on his stories :,)

2) what animal they remind me of: i don't care that it's predictable that man is a puppy!!!! manga denmark is a golden retriever but anime denmark is a yippy chihuahua with that fucking voice

3) my thoughts on their design/aesthetic alone: LOVE!! i think his canon outfit is really nice compared to.... whatever the other four are doing!! his hair is dumb but it's dumb /affectionate /i love him

4) physical headcanons: i got a few! he's an early bird!! and a light sleeper. physique-wise he's the second tallest nordic and he has BIG ass arms (an axe was his main weapon so!! makes sense to me!) he has a huge sweet tooth + he loves pastries!! but his favourite is whatever norway bakes because he's a softie :) as for actual food.... this man survives on sandwiches hot dogs and beer. get well soon x

5) social headcanons: denmark is the nordic with the most friends outside of the group!! finland comes close, because everyone loves finland and he has estonia & hungary, but i think denmark's outside friendships are more involved! a strip that really stuck with me is one during the denmark-norway period, where he goes to the netherlands and asks him to give him the buddy price on weaponry and ned agrees despite how he usually is :,) within the group, i see him as having an older-brother-but-kinda-dad relationship with iceland. sweden and him are close now and they're just the brothers who had a fallout but now r coping by insulting themselves jokingly (only when they're a few drinks in sometimes it's not a joke). he and fin only became close in later centuries but their personalities are super compatible so they're great friends!! and he and norway... oughghhg you're talking to dennor lover #1 here HAH to me they've been basically on-and-off in love for 1100 years or so :,) i'll go more into it in a future post so i'll stop here but!! yeah!!

6) psychological headcanons: i feel like i covered most of this in my denmark analysis!! but hm yeah for me his greateast fear is for sure isolating his family again. and despite how carefree he acts, i think he weighs his decisions very carefully because of what happened in the past when he didn't. i think he's actually really good with dealing with anger in modern day (he's had a lot of practice) but he regrets how he used to be before. speaking of before!! i love to think abt him from the viking era to approximately the late 1500s just... cocky bloodthirsty denmark is really fun to explore and i think people should play it up more instead of making him p much as sweet as in modern times! i dont think he wouldve been anything like that to anyone but his family and own people (also animals btw this guy loves animals 100%)

7) ship(s) with them that i like or at least consider: in terms of like... my version of canon i'm a dennor soloshipper i think :,) BUT i find denmark/norway/finland/sweden fun to think about!! also denmark/estonia is a rarepair i think is veryvery cute. and some classic nedden never hurt anyone!

8) made-up connections with other characters that weren't in the canon (friends, enemies, whatever): yes!! estonia as i just mentioned! he was danish land once and he's a nordic fanboy now so they have to have some kind of relationship! also prussia; i know they do have the whole awesome trio thing going on, BUT i think historical denmark & prussia is not spoken about enough. the 2 were on the same side all the time back then!! finally i find it really funny if he and poland get on each others nerves HAH again because of historical reasons!

9) headcanons about their past: again covered a lot of these already but!! here's one that's a little different. denmark was the first to become christian, and i think he would've annoyed the fuck out of norway and sweden (who were still norse pagan) about it! sometimes it just got him exasperated eye rolls, sometimes it got him beheaded, yk how it goes

10) content about them I'd like to see more of: anything i love denmark sosososo much more iceland & denmark content!!! i adore norway & iceland don't get me wrong but they for sure overshadow ice & dan when it comes to familial dynamics and it's a shame! also i think a lot of the historical content focuses on the viking era, the fall of the kalmar union or 1814, and i'd like to see more of him in the 1500s-1700s!! he was up to interesting stuff!!

[is-on-its-way]

okay ive finally come to see your vision on mulder here, although i do still think scully was uncomfy too, i think mulder was wildly uncomfy, definately in part due to the normalness of this neighborhood and suggestion this is what married life should look like, and knowing he isnt this person. Hes pushing her away with his treatment of her. But I think theres also another reason hes behaving like this that just clicked everything into place for me.

I preface this by saying i watch arcadia right after one son bc it makes canonical sense that way, they even say its their first case back. And this way i think it makes alot of sense for mulders characterization and for how their relationship would be post their fight

Agua Mala was not the episode filmed directly after One Son. Instead, Arcadia was shot between the two episodes. It simply was not ready to air in time. Mulder even refers to the case in Arcadia as the duo’s “first catch back on the X-Files.” Source: https://them0vieblog.com/2015/07/22/the-x-files-agua-mala-review/

I posit that every time scully is hurt, he goes to the ends of the earth to make sure shes okay, and then once she is, he flees or actively tries to get her to quit the x files, and overtly or inadvertently treats her poorly. Because he cant lose her again and survive, because he thinks he is completely responsible for everything that happens to her because his childhood trauma requires he carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. And because he loves her more than anything and has a decent amount of self hatred so he thinks he doesn't deserve her.

His behavior in one son/two fathers and arcadia to me is directly tied to her getting shot and almost dying in tithonus. I dont think its completely conscious on his part especially this time around but i also think something happened between arcadia monday and agua mala to get them to the more comfortable companionship they display in alpha.

That something being scully finally asking him for something or declaring something like he does when she pulls away. Finally calling him out and asking him to change his behavior, which he does, in alpha when she warns him about women he listens and isnt a dick about it.

anyway yeah thats it lol

Arcadia Analysis: Mulder’s Struggle

Contrary to popular belief, it was Mulder (and not Scully– my long post of her experience here) who was having a rough time in Arcadia. 

When Mulder arrives, his enthusiasm shines brighter than Scully’s placid happiness, momentarily disguising his true mood from her, the neighbors, and the viewers: dour, trapped, tense. 

Keep reading

[noemitenshi]

Moral Compass

The Madison & Troy story I won't write (probably not. you never know. my word means nothing)

---

So, for some reason, I envisioned a Madison&Troy story (dark-ish) where their relationship is much deeper than in canon and they are influencing each other (not exactly for their betterment. but Troy does survive the dam so that’s good, at least).

I was trying to come up with an idea for the start of this deeper relationship. What would do it? What had to change from canon? And then I thought about the time after Jeremiah’s death and before Walker and his people come to the ranch. Someone must have told Troy about this. And he must have had opinions. But they never showed us this. So below is one idea of how this scene could go (keeping in mind that this is also where they leave canon).

I don’t think I’ll ever really write this (hence why it is a tumblr post) but I may add to it if ideas keep coming.

Enjoy

"so. whats the play?" Troy asked deliberately casual. The same way he was leaning against the wall. "??" "with the indians. you don’t really plan on sharing. are you?" "no play" troy presses his lips together, unhappily while madison looks at him impatiently. he wants to say "youre joking", wants to rage against her. but he can see that wont work. she's unbudging in this. and there's something else, too. something more pressing. something he almost doesn't want to ask. but he's not one to back down. not even from questions he suspects he wont like the answer. *especially* not from those. so he goes: "do you still need me, now that youve settled for compromise? now that theres no war coming? or are you looking for the first opportunity to discard me. hmm, madison?"

madison does not answer, just looks disapprovingly at troy. so he adds. "jakes the lawyer after all. if you want pretty words - then it's him you need" and he's looking at her all challengingly, kinda daring her to say it. So she tries to deflect all "its what your father wanted" "well, newsflash, my father is dead." "He died for this place. His people" troy huffs "dad didn't have one selfless bone in his body. He'd rather have let us all die in an attack than sacrifice *anything*. So if he died for anyone - must've been himself" And Madison kinda doesn't know what to say to that, probably looks uncomfortable and broody. And then troy goes "you haven't answered my question. Wanna do away with me now, huh?" and guess she will go on the offense now "yeah. you're right" she will say and look him in the eye, kinda squinty "what i need now *isn't* brutality. i need cooperation and goodwill and-" troy scoffs loud enough that she stops talking. "this isnt a joke" madison hissed. "no" troy said slowly, measuredly "this, them and us, together, is a powder keg" "you planning on being the match?" Troy smirked in this condescending way of his "I dont have to" he said and shrugged a little "enough folks being on edge here. enough folks that lost someone to those... people." "do you *want me* to do away with you?" "you promised me a war, madison. had me go against my brother, my father. i did that *for you*" he'd gone close, close to her, towering over her. She was not cowed. "let's not get into who owns whom, hu?" she said. a warning. he snarled, not that it did anything. "so, where does that leave us?" he asked then. it was both the easiest thing he'd ever done and the hardest. madison had such a way about her. "you tell me, troy. where *does* it leave us? you gonna become a problem?" "we both know why you chose me, madison. before. why you... played nice. if that's- if that's not needed anymore..." he trailed off and shrugged, a self-mocking smirk on his lips. "it could be" she offers then. oh, she knew exactly when to offer him a lifeline. "there's still the dead out there. we still need-" "you don't think that's enough. do you?" she gave him a quick side-eye. that was enough to tell him that no, she didn't think that. he bit his lower lip. "there could be others. others that wanna take whats ours. i'd feel safer knowing you were there in case..." "in case what? those unknown strangers *may* attack? come on, you don't believe that" "you didn't expect *us* either, did you?" There was such an undertone in her voice it raised the little hairs on troy's neck. "What are you saying?" he asked slowly. pointedly. "you just - you never know what'll happen" such feigned casualness. but then her voice became soft. alluring "don't you want to see? what else there is?" - Oh, he knew exactly what she was doing - "...by my side?" Yep, there it was. By her side. He wanted nothing more. And she knew, she knew it, damn it. He inhaled shakily. But she wasn't done. "I  don't want to... have to..." again she side-eyed him "*manage* you" He tilted his head in a 'come on' gesture and demanded, "Say what you mean." "I mean it, troy," she said instead, touching his upper arm, squeezing, "i do want you by my side." "do you now? or.. is this you managing me already?" "it can be both - can't it?" madison asked. and she sounded almost uncertain. there was a glint in her eyes, betraying her "i don't know why but- there's something between us - from the very first moment. something about you... feels like kinship." troy blinked slowly for lack of an answer. he hadn't expected any of that. her acknowledging this connection between them. wanting it, even. or so it seemed. "kinship? that why you look like youre in physical pain any time im around your kids?" "kinship to me. not to them." there was no apology in her words nor her tone. in fact it was unyielding. familiar. it made troy smile. "so, you're telling me" he said slowly, voice softening, a meaningful look back and forth between them, "you *don't* want to rain hellfire down on them? the people who killed travis..." "i want to survive. my *kids* to survive..." she trailed off and he suspected she finally understood where they differed. he didn't have anyone like that in his life. where he'd do anything and everything for their continued survival. "but you don't get that, do you?" It hurt more than he'd like to admit. Hearing it out loud. He'd always craved connection like that. From the very first time she'd said she loved travis more than her life it stupidly had made him jealous. jealous bc he didn't feel like that about anyone. but he wanted to. didn't even understand why he did want it. it sounded suicidal. and so, so alluring. "i..." he didn't have a clever answer. nor could he bring himself to admit it, admit that yes, he didnt have that. never had. madison looked at him like he was a caged tiger. "it's not like i don't want to" he finally settled on "..get it, i mean." he swallowed uncomfortably. "no?" Oh, he had surprised her. That was... well that was something. "no" he affirmed, running his tongue along his bottom lip. "nick said..." her voice wasn't assured anymore. she spoke slowly. careful "nick said you'd die for the ranch - as a suicide note..?" troy's lips twitched, amused. "he said, did he? did he also tell you what he told me?" "what? no. Don't deflect" Troy shrugged. He truthfully had thought she should know. But then again if she herself told him to leave it, he would. "So." Madison prompted, somewhat impatient. "So?" "So, would you die gladly for the ranch? Or was that just talk?" "I would." "Then-" "It's not, it's not the same," he interrupted her, "I'm not doing that for anyone else. I'm doing it for me." She furrowed her brows. "You'd still be saving people" she offered. "Yeah" he said and did his half-snarl half-smirk "saved alicia too. didn't i?" And he lifted his brows. Madison's face did something complicated. "didn't do that for her either." "You did it for me" "or i did it because i was bored. because i didn't agree with jake's plan. because i owed you. because i got excited about the opportunity to kill people." The smirk was still playing on his lips and madison's furrow deepened. there was a long stretch of silenece between them. then she whispered, "doesnt mean you won't ever have it" "does that matter? if i don't have it *now*" uncomfortable silence. she broke it again. "aren't i reason enough?" and she almost sounded like she meant it. that she didn't want to manage him - do away with him. like she wanted him to *give her a reason*. "not yet." "what does that mean?" "means we're not there yet." "troy..." she whispered in this placating,  no soothing. No, pleading tone. she *did* mean it. however this had started out, however she would feel after. in this moment troy was sure that she really didn't want to act against him. want to *have to* act against him, as she would no doubt put it. it *was* something. "let's not kid yourselves madison. i am what i am." he regretted it the moment he saw her face. so he amended "but i can.. try. for your sake. i can." she did not look convinced and he cursed himself. why couldn't he have bit his tongue? But that just wasn't him. "no you can't" she said and she sounded so sad. he had to swallow uncomfortably. "you could..." he hesitated for a beat. did he really want to reveal that much to her? but then again, she probably already knew. Had had him pegged from the very first moment after all. "teach me?" He had surprised her again. Now he just had to wait and see whether it was in a good or a bad way. though he added, slyly almost "i *can* follow orders." "can you now?" she finally said. asked. but there was no bite in her voice. if it were anyone else he'd say it was teasing. "try me" he challenged and spread his arms from his body. She closed her eyes. sighed. "youre following my lead." It was a statement, not a question. he still nodded, a small grin on his lips. "I'm following your lead" he confirmed. Oh, this had him excited. It was something new, unknown. It was... something he wanted. She sighed again. But he didn't pay that much mind, giddyness taking over. Who'd have thought this would be the outcome of their conversation? Certainly not him. He didn't exactly know what he had expected - maybe both of them firmly on opposite sides. But not *this*. An offer of... mentorship? The thing he had envisioned the moment he'd realized that she *understood* him. "im glad you came to talk to me." Her words pulled him out of his memories and he smiled. The same soft smile he'd smiled back then. This time, she reciprocated. 

[nonhumanhermitheadcanons]

I posted 173 times in 2022

That's 128 more posts than 2021!

153 posts created (88%)

20 posts reblogged (12%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@nonhumanhermitheadcanons

@just-illegal

@cryptidstares

@cursedthing

I tagged 170 of my posts in 2022

Only 2% of my posts had no tags

#hermitcraft - 145 posts

#hermitcraft headcanon - 84 posts

#hermitcraft headcanons - 36 posts

#nhhpromptober - 33 posts

#grian - 27 posts

#pearlescentmoon - 15 posts

#tango tek - 11 posts

#nhh 2022 promptober reblog - 11 posts

#tangotek - 9 posts

#watcher grian - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 127 characters

#if there are any artist out there and you want to draw this please do because i love this idea and have no drawing capabilities

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

The 1.19 update was great for everyone, except Zedaph.

Apparently, goat horns and sheep horns were similar enough in code because the sudden existence of them caused Zedaph's horns to become recognized as an object by themselves.

"'Zedaph's horn'," Tango read the entry off his communicator. He looked up at Zedaph who had his back facing Tango. "Huh. I didn't know it was a thing."

"It's not a thing," Zedaph emphasized, turning his head around to look at Tango. He would have simply glanced over his shoulder but he couldn't; his fully-grown curled horns obstructed his view. "My horns don't just break like the goats' do because they hit something. My horns are much stronger than that."

"Indestructible," Impulse added, and the other two turned to him. Tango made a sceptical scrunch of his face and Zedaph nodded furiously in agreement.

"Do you think your horns would survive if you were TNT-canon-launched into like a wall?" Tango asked.

"I'm not TNT-canon-launching myself across my base!" Zedaph retorted, though the thought of it made him chuckle.

"Oh? Sounds like someone is scared!" Tango taunted.

"Scared? Who said anything about scared?" Zedaph scorned with a grin. "Impulse!" Zedaph called, and Impulse nodded in attention. "Make me the furthest TNT canon launcher ever!"

"Zed, that's quite dangerous," Impulse warned. "Even if your horns do not break, it would hurt-"

"The furthest TNT canon launcher EVERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!" Zedaph hollered.

"EVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Tango echoed.

---

Facepalming right into the side of a mountain was never fun. Neither was the sharp pain of his horns cracking in two.

"Zedaph's horn!" Tango shouted, delighted as he ran towards the broken horn and picked it up.

"Zed!" Impulse ran to him, helping him up and offering him a healing potion. Zedaph rubbed his nose painfully, then winced as he raised his hand to touch the jagged edge of his now broken horn. "Does it hurt?!" Impulse asked, alarmed.

"No," Zedaph sighed, "just bruised my image and my ego."

Impulse offered Zedaph sandpaper and Zedaph began the tedious process of sanding and smoothening out what was left of his horn.

"It'll grow back," Impulse tried to cheer him up. "They'll look the same again."

"Yeah," Zedaph shrugged, "in a few years."

"Do you think a song plays if I blow through Zedaph's horn?" Tango asked, holding the horn with both hands like it was the most precious item ever. It could very well be; there was only one Zedaph, and no more Zedaph horns for a few years.

"Try it," Zedaph shrugged.

Tango blew into one end of Zedaph's horn and all that came out of the other end was a splatter of saliva.

"Disappointing," Zedaph commented.

"Your horn doesn't make music!" Tango exclaimed.

"You don't know how to play a horn!" Impulse cried, seeming horrified at Tango's attempt.

"You try!" Tango offered him the horn.

"Ew!" Impulse backed away, waving a 'get-it-away-from-me' hand at Tango. "I'm not touching that!"

"How are you going to prove that it's me and not the horn then?" Tango asked.

"I have another horn," Zedaph offered, and gestured at his one intact horn.

See the full post

241 notes - Posted July 6, 2022

#4

robot tango has to do that little "are you a robot" captcha test. i dont have anything more than that on that topic but i think he would probably fail and be Very irritated about it

Fans buzzing in frustration, Tango glares at the tiny box on his communicator’s screen. [I’m Not A Robot] the text proclaims. “But I am a robot,” He whispers drawing Impulse’s attention.

“What’s up?”

Tango shows him the communicator, “I could click it, but… I don't want to lie.”

With a sound mixed between a sigh and a snort, Impulse clicks the button and grants Tango access to the website

“Thanks,” Tango shoots his friend a grin. It’s not like the robot wouldn't pass the test; he's pretty good at mimicking human arm movements. Looking back at the communicator he finishes his shopping. He needs spare parts, and you can't just craft them most of the time.

Clicking the next button, Tango’s head hits the table with a thunk.

“Another one?” Impulse grins.

“Yeah…” Tango rubs the back of his neck, “It’s a different kind… could you?”

Taking the comm, Impulse frowns at the string of squiggly letters and numbers, the psychedelic background not helping the readability of the text, “Ok, you’re in.” He passes the communicator back, having successfully deciphered the nonsensical phrase.

“You make it sound like I'm hacking them,” Tango laughs.

“I mean, you are a robot on a website made to keep bots out.”

“Yeah but those are computer bots, not RObots with bodies and free will like myself!” Tango gives himself a dramatic gesture. Impulse just shakes his head, smiling fondly.

256 notes - Posted February 10, 2022

#3

‘Watchers’

Nobody in Hermitcraft knows what the Watchers are. There’s a good reason for that: Grian and his friends from EVO made them up. Now Grian is pretending to be one of these all-powerful ancient beings who ‘see everything’ just to fool the other hermits because he thinks it’s fun.

When 3rd Life rolls around and Martyn hears of this, he’s confused at first, but quickly gets in on the joke: “Grian, why are you pretending to be the godly beings we made up for our LARP?”  “Because they don't know that!”

Jimmy, upon catching wind of this, says, “But I’m not a Watcher?!” Grian gives him a look of ‘please play along don’t blow this for me please’, and thankfully Jimmy gets it.  He puffs up his chest, looking as confident as he can manage. “...Because I am a... uh... I'm a Listener! Yes!” he says.

“No, yeah, it's totally a thing.” “BigB, you too?” Etho sobs.

588 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

#2

Grian is, in fanon, often known for his many, many eyes, and his feathery bird wings, right?

So what if...

Grian raises his long, elegant tail, and sees.

1,093 notes - Posted January 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Because I rarely see anybody talk about them, a look at Gem & Pearl's camera accounts because they are super cool and very underappreciated.

AriesEva, the cam account of one GeminiTay. And initially the cause of much confusion when she started logging in and people didn't know who she was.

Her skin follows the nature theming of her counterpart to the nether. The colour scheme closely resembles that of a fungus, with its bright greens and oranges. She keeps her trademarked floral headdress and antlers (despite this being based off her non-HC skin) and on the back of her shirt has her crescent moon ensigna seen in Season Eight!

See the full post

2,813 notes - Posted May 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

We had a great year with all of you liking and rebloging our posts. Here's to another year!

[runicmagitek]

Hi Runic 😃👋🏾

Celes for character ask 💖

Thank you!

Apologies for the wait but AW YEAH MY FAVE OF ALL TIME 😍 thank youuuuu

Why I like them. I'm always a sucker for ice queen characters and love SO MUCH about Celes, but what really sold me on Celes as a bitty was how someone so strong and incredible was still profoundly depressed and defeated, thus felt it was logical to end her life. And the fact she survived, found the strength to keep going, and then reunited all her lost allies to then save the world? Damn, that really meant the world to me as a kid. It reminded me that even the strongest and most determined of folks still have their lows and that they CAN recover from it. Amazing. I love her so much.

Why I don’t. What do you mean she's perfect I love everything about her, flaws and all

Favorite scene. I always loved the part when she contemplates Kefka's offer to join him in becoming a god and ruling the world and she's just like "nah" and stabs him. Incredible. Good for her.

Favorite line. "I'm a former general, not some opera floozy!!" The opera scene is so ridiculous and over the top and I forever love it bc of that.

Favorite outfit. Oh damn, she has so many. I really love her Amano concept art getup with the gold and purple, especially the one where she has the vest and weird arm warmer sleeve things. And the crisscross stitching by her hip on her pants chef kiss

OTP. I am contractually obligated to say Celes/Setzer because it's true, but Celes/Terra is Just As Good and important to me. I love them both honestly for very different reasons. Celes just deserves someone who will love her forever.

Brotp. After writing Darkness/Starlight, I really love her friendship with Edgar. They contrast each other well and I think they'd really support each other over the years post-canon. Also Sabin! Because he's a sweetie and would give her the best hugs. AND ALSO CYAN WOULD BE A PERFECT FATHER FIGURE AND OMG HIS HATE FOR HER TURNING INTO ADMIRATION AND AFFECTION SHE RARELY HAD GROWING UP AND IN THIS ESSAY I WILL-

Head Canon. jsdklfjafklsadj FUCK I HAVE TO PICK JUST ONE???? Her knowing Terra pre-canon and them sharing a romance before Terra lost her memories is peak angst, especially with Terra asking Celes, OF ALL PEOPLE, if she's ever been in love before when they reunite in Narshe

Unpopular opinion. I think Celes/L*cke is [REDACTED]

A wish. I hope she finds a new purpose in the new world post-canon. I hope she comes to terms with her past and learns to let go. I hope she can be happy and never need to fight again.

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen. No more experiments or medical infusions ever again. No no no.

5 words to best describe them. Reserved, inquisitive, resilient, gorgeous, and badass

My nickname for them. MY OG ICE QUEEN AAAAAAAAAAA

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

I posted 42 times in 2022

That's 4 more posts than 2021!

5 posts created (12%)

37 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@elytrians

@muchymozzarella

@hamartia-grander

@demigoddessqueens

@thotty-bog-body

I tagged 42 of my posts in 2022

#not writing - 32 posts

#not mine - 10 posts

#art tag - 6 posts

#lol - 4 posts

#resident evil - 4 posts

#@hermione-grander - 2 posts

#my love! - 2 posts

#i dont think im capable of normal anymore - 1 post

#me w/ my villians - 1 post

#next tumblr april fools pls and thank u - 1 post

Longest Tag: 82 characters

#like i adore all of the adaptatiosn but am also sad that were loosing the og myths

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

hey... r u alive??

Am,,, I...?

(Lol, jk- yes I am. And I'm working on stuff I promise.)

((On A Totally Unrelated Note: Do NOT stop masking and get covid again because it can literally steal months of your life.))

0 notes - Posted October 11, 2022

#4

not for nothing but i absolutely do see the trend of newcomer tumblr users only liking posts and not reblogging them

0 notes - Posted May 6, 2022

#3

actually have a wip!!!

woo-hoo!!!

6 notes - Posted March 30, 2022

#2

update. ask box still closed.

i survived the fall semester only to get covid.... ugh. omnicron is no joke.

stay safe out there y’all!

-Mothmom 💚

7 notes - Posted January 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Nurse!Reader x Carlos Oliveira & Nikolai Zinoviev Headcanons

A/N: (Everyone’s a touch OOC as I doubt either one would willingly drag a civilian along, albeit for different reasons: Carlos because once you’ve been escorted to safety, you’re no longer his immediate concern; Nikolai because he was never all that interested in saving civilians, to begin with, but let’s say you’re just so darn cute/special that you alter canon circumstances, okay? Okay. Also, all of them survive RE3 in this, so yeah.)

☣     ☢     ☣     ☢

When shit starts hitting the fan, you don't panic immediately. After all, you work in a hospital, what better place to be during a pandemic, right? 

Wrong! Oh so wrong. 

You see the effects of the T-virus up close and personal, and it’s not pretty. Prior to this point, you thought such viruses only existed in science fiction or cheesy B-grade horror movies. But here it was in your workplace, quickly overcoming all quarantined forces, hospital staff, and security. 

So you flee. You leave through a back exit and get the hell out of dodge, or at least, the center of dodge. You soon find, however, that it’s not just the hospital that’s overrun, but the city as well.

Maybe that’s how you meet them…

Carlos:

He swoops in and saves you from a hoard of zombies, looking like an A-list action star as he does it. (It’s the hair- it’s incredible.)

He tells you his platoon is rounding up survivors in the subway, that it’s a temporary shelter until they can get the trains up and running again. That he and his teammates were sent in to get everyone safely out of the city. You’re not sure if you believe this plan, but you follow him eagerly as he leads you to the subway. 

On the way, you tell him who you are. When he finds out you’re medical personnel, he’s both impressed and relieved. He tells you his captain has been injured, and they haven’t come across a doctor or nurse that hasn't already been infected. You of course offer to help in any way your can. (Because you’re awesome like that.)

You’re not surprised when he tells you he’s working with Umbrella because you also work with Umbrella as a hospital employee. But to you, they’re a pharmaceutical company, why would they need military personnel? It doesn't sit right with you, but Carlos is an absolute sweetheart. (I mean the man is cracking jokes in the middle of the apocalypse.) So you trust the guy.

Carlos does his best to assure you you’re not a burden or some sort of unwanted weight when you first arrive at the subway car. Mainly, because he can tell by the way you keep offering to help get the trains running, even though you’d be no match for the horde, but also because of Nikolai’s snide comments about Carlos bringing in “yet another one” when the cars still weren’t working. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” he says. “It’s our job to protect you.”

Carlos takes you to his Captain- Captain Mikhail Victor in charge of Umbrella's Delta Platoon. You try and treat the Captain’s injury the best you can, using what little supplies from the first-aid kit that’s available. You apply a generous amount of first aid spray and wrap a makeshift bandage around the cut. You would have attempted sutures if the kit had any but unfortunately for the Captain, it didn’t. The wound isn’t deep but it’s in a compromising place. You know this man won’t make it out of here on foot. 

Overall, you feel you’ve done an inadequate job because you know the Captain is still incredibly vulnerable, but both Carlos and Mikhail assure you, you’ve been more than helpful. 

But you want to help more! When Carlos admits he and Tyrell won’t be catching the train and will instead stay behind to look for Bard, you offer to come with them, to help them navigate the hospital. 

Of course, everyone thinks it’s a horrible idea. One: because Bard is supposedly at the police station, not the hospital, and Two: because you have no weapons training whatsoever. You’re a walking liability. Nikolai teases Carlos about “taking on the burdens of strays”. You flip him off behind his back. 

After a ton of back and forth, you insist you go with Carlos and Tyrell, refusing to get on the train. At one point you take a seat on the ground of the platform and cross your arms stubbornly. (You’re not going and they can’t make you!)

Carlos is the first to accept the situation and roll with the punches. “Alright. But I have one rule.” He says. “No dying on me.” 

You stand, smile, and shake his hand. “Deal.”

The three of you make it to the police station, where you hang back with Tyrell in the main lobby as Carlos looks around for Bard. Once it’s revealed that Bard is still at the hospital, you offer to escort Carlos there. After giving him your best “I told you so” smirk that is.

On the way you find Jill, clearly having been infected by something, even though you’re not certain what. But none of that matters as you and Carlos bring her to the practically abandoned hospital. 

Once Jill is settled, you give Carlos some directions and a rudimentary drawing of where to locate the asshole Bard’s office. “You’ll need a voice key,” you tell him. “You’d have to look around these rooms for one of his cassettes.” 

He thanks you before asking you to look after Jill for the time being. You promise to radio him if her condition worsens. 

When Carlos comes back with the vaccine, you could practically kiss the man. You don’t, of course, it wouldn't be appropriate. (But the thought does cross your mind very briefly.) Carlos lets you administer the vaccine to Jill, you being the trained nurse and all. With all that's happened, being able to do some actual healing feels like nothing short of a miracle. 

You begin to take notes on Jill’s condition, commenting that although it doesn’t seem to be a speedy cure, her fever’s going down and her skin doesn’t look as clammy. 

The miraculous feeling doesn't last long, however, as Tyrell comes bursting through the room, clearly out of breath and pretty banged-up. He turns on the TV and to your horror, you find you have only hours to make it out of Racoon City unless you want to be vaporized. (Which, no, thank you! You certainly don’t!)  

After catching up, Tyrell being high-key surprised you’re still alive, (which honestly, you’re like ‘same’ lol) you decide to go with Carlos underground, to locate the stockpiled vaccine as a last-ditch effort to save the city. You hope whatever they made, that there’s tons of it. 

Before going underground though, Carlos gives you a gun from one of the killed security guards. It only has a few bullets but he feels safer knowing you’re not just going to walk completely weaponless into whatever danger Umbrella has waiting for you. 

See the full post

187 notes - Posted April 4, 2022

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