#rip elio

[eliotheeangelis]

nigel mansell dedicates victory to the memory of his lotus teammate, elio de angelis | 1986 belgian grand prix

de angelis had been killed in a testing accident at circuit paul ricard, ten days before the belgian grand prix. mansell had been one of the drivers present at the test, and had tried, unsuccessfully, to pull de angelis from his burning car.

[strawbubbysugar]

Current design ideas for the main bethroned characters for when I make it into its own original story :3

[karokawwo]

I ALMOST FORGOT ABOUT THIS PROJECT

[ghost-of-hallownest]

Mirach's younger siblings!

[elipheleh]

mary & george feature in tv & satellite magazine. airs in the uk on tuesday (5th) at 9pm on sky atlantic & sky showcase. boxset will be available on sky boxsets/NOW.

text under the cut

Hollywood star Julianne Moore adopts her best English accent this week when she plays Mary Villiers, a mother-of-four determined to secure her family's future, in Sky's seven-part drama Mary & George.

When she learns that King James (Tony Curran) is in a sexual relationship with his adviser, the Earl of Somerset (Laurie Davidson), Mary realises she could gain considerable power and influence if her son George (Nicholas Galitzine) becomes the King's new favourite.

'Mary is from a kind of middling aristocratic family,’ explains Moore, 'She's living in less-than-ideal circumstances, looking for a way to educate her children and keep herself alive. The only way she's really able to do that is through her relationships with powerful men.’

After sending George to France to learn refinement, Mary endeavours to get him noticed - and King James is soon enamoured with the handsome young man.

'At the beginning, the relationship is very transactional for George’, explains Galitzine, 29. 'I don't think he develops feelings for James until a few months, perhaps years, into the relationship. George definitely has something to gain, but the love is very much real between them.'

Although the King is aware of the power games being played around him, he finds it refreshing that George comes from outside the usual circles of the royal court.

‘James is comfortable when hes in the company of his lovers - he wants to forget about being a king,’ says Curran, 54. ‘He wants that distraction of feeling safe with another person, as opposed to lords and politicians constantly grabbing at him, wanting him to make decisions about affairs of state.’

OUTRAGEOUS TRUESTORY

The series is based on the nonfiction book The King's Assassin by Benjamin Woolley, and Moore was drawn to the project by the way Mary seemed ahead of her time.

‘There was something outrageous and direct about her’, says Moore, who won a Best Actress Oscar in 2015 for her role as an early onset Alzheimer's patient in Still Alice. 'She seemed to have her own desire for power and agency in a situation where she might possibly have none. It's interesting what she achieved at a time when women couldn't even own property.’

The cast also includes Trine Dyrholm as Queen Anne of Denmark, Niamh Algar as Mary's confidante, prostitute Sandie, and Nicola Walker as the Queen's lady-in-waiting Lady Hatton.

Mary & George's salty language and revealing sex scenes may surprise some viewers, but the stars believe it reflects the earthy instincts of its characters as they grapple for power.

"The sensuality in the show isn't crass in any way, says Curran. 'It was certainly interesting for me. I'd ask the producers, "What am I wearing today?" and theyd reply, “Your birthday suit, pal!"’

'It's not a typical period drama because of the licence it takes with behaviours and sexuality,’ agrees Moore. 'It's beautiful and opulent and a wildly entertaining romp through history.’

Who’s Who (top right of image)

Mary Villiers

Julianne Moore

The deeply ambitious mother lives on her wits and wants to create a lasting legacy for her family.

George Villiers

Nicholas Galitzine

Mary's second son gains new-found confidence and charm after an educational visit to France.

King James

Tony Curran

The first joint ruler of Scotland and England, the King is seldom seen without an entourage of male companions.

Robert Carr, Earl of Somerset

Laurie Davidson

The King's current favourite is determined to stop George from usurping him.

Queen Anne of Denmark

Trine Dynolm

The Queen would prefer her husband's favourite to be someone she can control.

Sandie

Niamh Algar

Mary's confidante is a prostitute in a high-end brothel, making her privy to the secrets of the rich and powerful.

[catnipaddictt]

My laptop broke 😭 there might be a bit of a wait until I can do some requests, but hopefully it should be fixed soon 🙏🙏🙏

Also life update: finally actually did my driver's license so I can stop using public transport now

[gardensofthemoon]

when you read a fic that emotionally devastates you and turns you into little pieces and your heart becomes ground meat how can you recover from that. dirtybadwrong sweetness and hurt and yearning and impending doom… was this written to cater to my specific tastes to a t

[intomore]

Elliott Erwitt  (July 26, 1928 – November 29, 2023)

Born Elio Romano Erwitz, 'Elliott Erwitt' was a French-born American advertising and documentary photographer known for his black and white candid photos of ironic and absurd situations within everyday settings. He was a member of Magnum Photos from 1953

[elenaramirez]

location: near the stalls

status: closed (@elio-del-vecchio)

Was she enjoying herself a little too much at a demon-lead event? Maybe. It was hard to say without any kind of reference. But seeing as Elena was by no means the only deity at the carnival, it seemed fair to assume that no one was going to fault her for it. With her most recent foray into the Maze of Mirrors ending in some rapidly fading bruises and a failed attempt at befriending the Hellhound within, she decided it was time to explore the stalls only for the crowd to part and reveal a familiar face.

"You got anything edible in there as well or is it all for show?" She questioned with a grin, hoisting herself up to sit on a low, nearby wall, kicking her feet against the blade of her long-sword. "And why does it feel like this is less of a costume and more of a reenactment of a previous job of yours?" Honestly, she wouldn't put it past Elio. Despite his abilities and his knowledge, he never seemed to consider himself above some honest hard work. It was one of the things she liked most about him. All that power and it had never gone to his head.

[cherubxkisses]

they nuked my girl

[eliotheeangelis]

elio de angelis /// first & last f1 teams

shadow dn9 ~ 1979 brabham bt55 ~ 1986

[nieloxychen]

need a break from rakes late-game, this shit just made me cry twice in the span of 15 minutes. maybe shouldnt have done 2 companion quests back to back but well its TOO LATE NOW

[earthtooz]

x : BANDAGED HEART :*+ﾟ

in which: blade finds out you're injured and can't contain his anger.

warnings: gn!reader x protective!blade, fluff, mentions of blood and injuries, 'who did this to you?' trope with blade LOL, slight manhandling, did i mention that he's protective?

a/n: blade debut, omg? this sucks btw but this was inspired by this comic that i saw the other day :> it just reminded me that the 'who did this to you' trope existed and i went YES and took my own spin onto it so, i hope you enjoy!

the smell of antiseptic wafts heavily through the air, bandages sit tightly rolled beside you, and you hiss at the sting of the antibacterial ointment slathered over the open wound on your arm. 

it hurts. 

blinking the tears away and gritting your teeth to bear with the pain, you reach for the unused roll, clumsily unravelling them with shaking hands and a blurring vision.

“oi.” a raspy voice from behind catches you off guard and you turn around from where you’ve seated yourself in the corner of the medical wing, having helped yourself to a supply of ointment and bandages. 

a familiar swordsman and fellow coworker towers above you, glowering at you through the streaks of his bangs. maybe if you weren’t on the verge of fainting, you’d have the energy to fear him.

“oh, it’s just you,” you mutter, “can i help you?”

his eyes glance you up and down, as if scanning you for any indication of misadventure. feeling uneasy under the intensity of his gaze, you return to trying to rip the bandages with bare hands since you had not brought scissors or even a blade with you in your haste. 

feeling the blood from your wound drip down your arm and onto the floor beneath you, you cringe, hurrying up so you don’t make a mess. this whole patching-yourself-up-thing should have been easy, but without something sharp and half your strength evaporated after a gruesome mission, it was much harder than usual. 

the growing frustration you were feeling was not offering much aid either, and with blade practically towering over you, you try not to let your fluctuating anger overwhelm you. 

aeons, it was as if you were sent on this mission with elio praying for your downfall. you’re lucky that you managed to get out with only a scratch on your arm and a missing weapon. it’s going to be hard finding a replacement for it, but when you just looked death in the face, you can’t say you have much to complain about that a weapon was the only thing you lost. 

suddenly, two hands sneak underneath your arms to lift you up, breaking your train of thought with a tight, unforgiving grip as you’re effortlessly placed onto a hospital bed right beside you. meeting the ruby eyes of the swordsman, your breath lodges uncomfortably in your throat, and you have to rip your gaze away from him; the intensity would paralyse you otherwise. 

“where are you hurt?” he asks, sounding more like a demand than a question. 

“i can do it myself,” you grumble. blade takes the bandage out of your hands, holding back your wrist that instinctively reached out to grab it back. the glare he shoots you from the corner of his eye placates any complaint you have.

“show me.”

reluctantly, you present your injured arm. he mutters a very quick and quiet ‘stay here’ before stalking off. a faucet is turned on, water begins running from a nearby sink, and blade returns with a wet cloth. 

grabbing your wounded arm, he cleans around the area, rubbing the blood that has trickled down your arm as well. he’s scarily gentle with you, attentive to your every wince and hiss, halting momentarily every time you let a noise slip. 

he makes quick work of patching you up, flawless and effortless in his technique. makes sense, you suppose, since he is covered in these. 

you wonder how many times he’s had to do this on himself. a small part of your heart aches thinking about it.

“thank you,” you whisper when he’s done, gratitude silently swirling inside you. grabbing the bandages and cloth, you slide off onto your feet. “i’ll put these away.” 

stepping in front of you, his body intercepts your path and you’re pressed against the bed, frozen under him. there’s an indescribable look of fury in his eyes, his red eyes seeming even angrier than usual. 

“what happened?” he asks.

you have hold yourself up, suddenly weak in the knees. “just a typical mission, it’s nothing you should worry about.”

the fellow stellaron hunter does not look satisfied with your response. “what do you mean ‘nothing you should worry about’? who did this to you?” he asks, punctuating each word with a dark expression. 

“blade- please, can we not talk about this right now?” you mutter, “i’m tired and i just want to sleep.”

he narrows his eyes. “who. hurt. you?”

“why? what can you do about it now?”

“kill them.”

you scoff. “yeah, right.”

blade wedges a leg between yours, hindering your escape even further by leaning himself closer to you. “i’m serious.”

“so am i. if you’re thinking about hunting them down, then please, don’t bother. let it go.” you mutter.

“but you got hurt.” 

“i get hurt all the time.”

his brows scrunch together, a small indication of the dangerous protectiveness growing within him. you interrupt his train of thoughts, placing a brave hand on his chest; right over his heart. ‘i’m fine. you don’t need to worry about me.”

“i’m not worried,” he grumbles lowly. 

“oh. i see.”

he grabs your hand and takes it away from his chest, holding you gently. “i’m angry that you got hurt.”

you’re speechless, blinking at the swordsman who raises your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it. it feels like a promise- not that you know what said promise is, but with that look in his eyes, you know it’s not a peaceful one. 

“so why don’t you tell me the truth? who did this to you?”

the answer slips past your lips before you can help it and when the words are spilled, a creeping guilt invades you. whatever he’s planning, you know that bloodshed will follow.

“see, that wasn’t so hard.”

in a blink of an eye, blade is gone, taking the intense pressure with him. he left so quickly that you wonder if he was ever here to begin with. the lingering brush of his lips is the only indication that he was not a figment of your half-aware conscious.  

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[akutasoda]

hellooo, boothill aventurine jing yuan and blade with a teen reader who is like asuka langley?

teen!reader who despite being a kid, acts grown up and wants to be seen as an adult

don't waste that youth

synopsis - how are they with a teen who wants to be treated like an adult

includes - blade, jing yuan, aventurine, boothill

warnings - gn!teen!reader, fluff, slight angst, wc - 739

blade ★↷

↪your insistence on being treated like an adult wad something that was kind of admired by him. that self independence was a good quality in his eyes - no matter how many companions you have, you will always need to be independent at some point.

↪and so he respected your wishes to be treated as an adult. you often acted the part and so it made all the more easier for him to do so. it never really crossed his mind to treat you as a child.

↪of course he knew you were a child, but treating you as such, especially since you were a stellaron hunter, didn't matter. blade didn't need to know your motives for being apart of the group, elio clearly had a plan for you.

↪although your stubbornness was something that often reminded him of just how young you actually were, and even occasionally got on his nerves. not majorly and he'd never seriously look down on you as a child, you were an equal member of the team.

jing yuan ★↷

↪if anyone were to see you and jing yuan together, they would feel like you two switched personalities. the age old general who often acted beneath his age and the actual teenager who acted more like an adult.

↪although jing yuan would admit he acted less mature around you specifically. yes it was nice that you acted with such maturity and wanted to be respected as an adult, something jing yuan would do, but he wanted you to hehave your age more often.

↪being treated as an adult was nice, but your youth was fleeting. you had plenty of time in the future to actually be an adult so you deserved to live out your youth as intended, not pushing to be an adult so desperately.

↪jing yuan could tell you had trouble expressing your true feelings and behaving like an adult definitely wasn't going to help with that. he would always try and get you to express your childish side snd he would do so while still giving you the respect of an adult.

aventurine ★↷

↪aventurine respected your insistence on being treated more maturely and he would do so. he understood that not every kid or teen wanted to be treated as such. he even quite admired how mature you were and how that dictated how you carried yourself.

↪however, as someone who had his youth ripped away from him, he did wish that you saw just how important it was to act your age sometimes. trying to always act like an adult was something that could even be seen as desperate - in the sense of trying to wish away your youth as soon as possible.

↪but aventurine never did anything to help you realise that. he didn't exactly try himself and he wouldn't know how to help you. his best idea was maybe trying to help you act your age indirectly but he would assume you would see it as him disrespecting your wish to be seen and treated as an adult.

boothill ★↷

↪when he first met you, he respected your wishes to be treated as an adult. he understood where your maturity came from and he wasn't one to deny your wishes to not be treated as a child despite being a teenager.

↪but when he got to know you more, he found it hard to fulfil those whishes. what most people didn't know about boothill was that he did indeed have a soft spot, that a past version of him had a child. so it was only a matter of time before parts of him saw you in a similar way.

↪his kid didn't have the chance to grow up, but you did. boothill would treat you as an adult but he wished you lived out your youth the same way as everyone else. enjoy that childhood before you grew up.

↪he couldn't force you and he'd try his best to treat you as an adult but he could only hope that you realised just how precious someone's youth could be. you only had one shot, why waste it?

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[wileys-russo]

bad dog ficlet

bad dog

"i cannot believe you said yes without conferring with me first." "and why do i need to confer with you?" "well i live here too, it affects me!" "you won't do a single thing for him anyway, so really it'll be my responsibility and therefore was my decision to make." "oh that is not fair, do i not get a say in any of this?" "considering its a favour for your family and i've already said yes, no you do not alessia."

your girlfriend groaned, making sure it was long and loud to let you know she was not impressed as you rolled your eyes, unamused by her theatrics. "are you done acting like a child?" you raised an eyebrow, arms crossed over your chest.

"a child she says!" "i'll take that as a no then." "come back here this conversation is not over!" "yes it is, he'll be here by the time you get home." "if i come home!"

"stay at tooneys for the week then." you shrugged casually, alessias mouth forming a small o of shock, your reaction not the one she expected from her light threat.

"i'll have elio to protect me from intruders anyway, no guard dog girlfriend needed love." you smiled, well aware you were getting under her skin as she sat up, grumbling under her breath as she tugged on her trainers and grabbed her gym bag.

"both of us will see you this afternoon." you hung by the front door twirling her keys on your finger, holding them away as she reached for them. you cleared your throat expectantly and raised an eyebrow, your girlfriend rolling her eyes.

"i love you." she grumbled leaning in to give you a kiss, one arm wrapping around your side. her hand on the small of your back she flushed your bodies closer together, plucking her keys from your grasp and pecking your lips a few more times before she was gone.

~

"oh my god. baby! he's fucking done it again!" alessia shouted angrily, the dopey labrador scurrying out of the room at her raised voice. "don't yell like that you'll scare him." you warned her, alessia scoffing.

"scare him? look what he did!" she held up a pair of her boots which were ripped to shreds. "i told you to stop leaving them laying about. now looks what happened!" you only rolled your eyes, voice lacking an inch of sympathy.

"how is this my fault? he is so badly behaved and you never tell him off!" "lessi, baby he's just a puppy. he's learning!" "yeah? well he better learn not to chew up my shit or he learns how cold it is to sleep in the backyard." "don't you dare. i'll put you out there with him!"

"go and take him for a walk! maybe if he's tired he'll be less of a fucking pain in my ass." alessia huffed, sitting down on the bed and holding her boots in her hand with a groan. she'd not long gotten the new cleats and now she'd not get another single wear out of them.

"are you coming?" you returned a few minutes later, elio of course sitting right by your feet, always ever so obedient for you. "no. he hates me, i hate him, leave it at that." alessia huffed, rolling onto her side where she was laying down on the bed.

"honestly baby you're being ridiculous, he's just a dog! come on, it'll be a good bonding opportunity for the two of you." you cooed, the bed dipping as you sat down. "ah! get down you idiot." alessia kicked out at the dog who followed your lead.

"alessia! don't kick him." you huffed, smacking her in the leg making her whine. "get up, shoes on, you're coming." you ordered sternly, firm glare shutting down her complaining before it could even start.

~

"hi baby." you smiled softly as your girlfriend returned from a photo shoot for the seasons kit, moving aside your textbook out of your lap as she belly flopped onto you making you laugh.

"how was it?" you ran your hands fondly through her hair, gently untangling a few sporadic knots. "good, missed you." she mumbled, shuffling slowly up your body. and once her lips met your neck you knew exactly what she wanted.

your eyes fluttered closed the kisses soft and tender, sweet nothings whispered in your ear. her hands teasingly ran up and down your sides before they gripped your hips tighter, pushing your body deeper into the mattress as hers settled itself comfortably on top of you.

your breath hitched as suddenly she nipped at your pulse point, your body reacting to every little touch she gave you, switching between her teeth and tongue devouring at the soft sensitive skin, your mumbles of encouragement only spurring her on further.

but it was her who heard the whines and scratches before you did, noises which were not coming from you as your attention wavered momentarily.

"no, ignore him, focus on me baby." alessia purred, moving her mouth back to connect with yours, her hands cupped your face and deepening the kiss. your head swam as her tongue swirled against the roof of your mouth, hips bucking involuntarily up against her.

until the barking started.

"baby i just need to make sure he's okay." your hands gently pushed at her chest, breaking the kiss with a quiet smack as her lips pulled off of yours. "are you seriously choosing a smelly dog over making out with me?" alessia asked in disbelief.

"he doesn't smell! i washed him yesterday." you laughed, ignoring the main focus of her point as you pecked her lips and sat up, the blonde rolling off of you with a defeated groan as of course your attention again shifted to elio.

~

"tesoro i already said he is not allowed on the lounge! get down." alessia groaned, having showered once you all returned from your walk, though of course it was alone as you needed to feed elio and watch him while he ate so he didn't choke.

yet another strike in alessia's book against the dopey chocolate menace who was ruining her life. four days had never felt so agonizingly long and with each hour her annoyance only seemed to grow, feeling incredibly neglected by you whose attention and time seemed to be only invested in elio.

"elio off!" alessia yelled, much more sternly this time as the canine only stuck his tongue out, not moving a muscle. "see i told you babe, he doesn't listen." alessia dragged her hands down her face in frustration. "its because he knows you don't like him. you have to ask nicely!" you gestured for her to try again.

"what dog book did you read that in? they're supposed to know whose the boss and that it isn't them!" alessia rolled her eyes in disbelief. "elio. off and onto your bed please." you asked softly, alessia withholding the urge to scream as of course he did what you asked.

"see baby? mutual respect." you grinned, opening your arms expectantly as your girlfriend sighed deeply and dropped down into them, her head on your stomach and arms tucked around your torso.

elio finally napping alessia was able to do the same, and you smiled seeing her so relaxed as you played with her hair, glancing between elio and your girlfriend with a content sigh.

alessia awoke to something wet on her cheek, a smile curling onto her lips assuming the tongue belonged to you. though the rancid smell that followed had her eyes shooting open, meeting orbs which did not belong to you.

"urgh get off!" alessia grunted shoving away the dog and furiously wiping at her mouth, just seeing your back facing toward her in the kitchen. "right, you and I need to have a little chat." alessia growled, grabbing the dogs collar and pulling him back over.

"see her? that is my girlfriend. mine! not yours." alessia warned quietly. "you will start to listen to me, and behave, and let me spend time with my girlfriend or you will sleep outside in the rain!" alessia leaned in closer to the canine.

"understood?" alessia warned, letting go of elio and smiling as he shot right back to his bed and sat down. "here baby." the blonde perked up as you handed her a bowl of pasta, kissing your cheek gratefully.

"no, stay." the striker warned as elio stood to join the two of you, ears perking up at the smell of your dinner. "see! he listened." you smiled happily as the labrador dropped right back down into his bed as alessia settled in beside you.

"yeah baby you were right, we just needed some mutual respect."

[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller’s ff) - chapter 9

chapter 8 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 10

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. (it's actually 2004 now)

summary: "only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love" ― george elio.

a/n: uhmmmm... yeah... i did tell you guys i love drama, right? well, this chapter has a dangerous amount of angst. i'm sorry?? i really hope you guys like this one, i have put a lot of effort into it 😭 as always, all interactions welcome. thank you all for reading and generally being amazing! xx

warnings: 18+, mdni. angst, angst, ANGST. have i said angst already? discussions of death, suicide and assisted suicide. sarah makes an appearance. soft!joel. lovemaking. there are some "i love you"s thrown around. crying. smut. oral (m and f receiving). masturbation (m and f). creampie. goodbye sex?? if that's even a thing to tag. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 37. no use of y/n.  joel’s and reader’s pov.

w/c: ~5.3k.

tags aka the drama wagon (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981

@fancyyoouu @smolbeanzzz @guelyury @bishtrouille

“Joel, please, I beg you. Don’t do this, please”, Sasha pleaded with him.

She was on her knees, imploring him to spare her life. But he couldn’t do that. She was infected ― she was wearing the proof on her forearm, the bite bleeding shades of red and yellow.

It was just a matter of time before she lost herself, before she was truly gone. He was just being merciful with her, he thought. Ending Sasha’s suffering before it became too great to bear was the right thing to do. She was dead anyway, speeding up the process was lenient of him.

He gripped the gun tighter, his index caressing the trigger. If it was so rightful, why was he hesitating? The barrel kissed her forehead as she shut her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks, mouthing a silent prayer. Joel noticed a familiar scar on her right cheek ― it had almost faded, but he knew it all too well. He had stroked it many times in the last few months.

His brows furrowed in confusion. Why did Sasha have the same scar you did?

“Daddy? Don’t kill her, please”, Sarah’s voice rang in his ears.

Joel’s attention quickly turned to his daughter. Sarah materialised, standing right there in front of him at arm’s length. She felt so real to him, he thought himself mad. Her bright sad eyes pierced through his resolution. She was as beautiful as he remembered ― curly brown hair, big green orbs, a sweet soft smile, the most soothing voice known to man, to a father.

But her features were torn with sorrow. In fact, her eyes were dotted with thick tears, her lips pursed in a grimace. He felt the urgent need to calm her down, to tell her everything was going to be alright. This time he could protect her. He would. He had to.

Joel knew he would not survive this all over again. It would break him for good, shattering the last remnants of what made him human.

“I have to, baby girl. I need to keep you safe”, his voice faltered, filled with emotion. A knot in his throat so dense he could not even swallow. “I won’t lose you again, baby girl, I can’t.”

“Daddy, no!”, she cried, touching his forearm ― a light, comforting pat that made his skin crawl with nostalgia.

The lump in his throat spread to his chest. An overwhelming sensation threatened to rip his torso apart. Oh, how much did he just want to embrace his Sarah tight, to feel her warmth again, to know such unconditional love one more time. To cry with pure relief, letting go of that daunting feeling that had been haunting him for over a year.

Joel knew he would do anything to protect Sarah. And so he did.

A loud bang ricocheted, his eyes never leaving his daughter’s.

“No, daddy, what have you done?”, she muttered, holding onto his forearm, digging her little fingers in his flesh.

She was weeping uncontrollably now. Joel dropped the gun to the floor, cradling Sarah’s face between his murderous hands. He swept away her tears, and his heart ached with longing.

“What I had to, baby girl. I’m keeping you alive, no matter what the cost”, Joel’s voice was so low, it was almost a whisper.

For the first time in four hundred and fifty-one days, he allowed himself to cry his eyes out. He let go of all the bottled-up emotions, knocking down the walls that contained all the misery and despair that he had felt for so long.

Sarah’s hands wrapped around his wrists, her sobs and his flowing in unison.

“But you’ve killed her, daddy.”

And then she vanished, leaving a trail of warmth on Joel’s fingertips. She was gone.

His heart jolted against his ribcage. Darkness engulfing his senses once again, casting away any feelings he had, leaving him as empty as he ever was.

He composed himself ― something in her tone, in her emphasis in the word “her”, forced Joel to look away from where his daughter had stood a minute before, down to the woman on the ground.

But it wasn’t Sasha. It was you.

You were dead. Because of him.

Grief swallowed him whole. Chewed him, spat him.

Joel startled awake, his heart racing so fast he could feel it pressing against his throat. Panic strangled him, forcing him to swallow the hard lump in his throat. He blinked rapidly, realising he had been crying in his sleep. With one hand, he brushed away the tears as reality set in once again.

He was going to lose you and there was absolutely nothing he could do to prevent it from happening. Your fate had been unfairly sealed. The future he thought he had with you… gone. Joel had allowed himself to dream, dooming you in the process of doing so. He should have known by now that happiness was meant to escape him forever. Joel tainted everything and everyone he touched, leaving a trail of lingering darkness that would eventually catch up with those he marked.

He looked around, for a second forgetting where he was. You both were in a flat on the second floor of an apartment building on East Lake Shore Drive, with views to Lake Michigan. He guessed it was around midnight, a couple of hours after the whole debacle.

Joel barely remembered how you both got here, his memory was hazy, unable to recall much after seeing the bite mark on your wrist. The part of him who was built for this world ―unattached, steadfast, unwavering― took over, guiding you both to safety.

It was weird how he used to space out in those moments of high anxiety. It wasn’t the first time it had happened. He barely remembered the days after Sarah’s death either. The brain fog was so dense it felt like swimming through murky waters.

He shook his head and glanced down. Sitting on the couch, you were laying down on your side, with your head on his lap. Your hands were tucked away under his thigh, your face almost completely leaned against his jeans. One of his hands was buried in your hair ― he massaged your scalp lightly, his other hand resting on your hip.

Joel just wished he could take all of it away. Had he never known you, you would not be in this position. If your paths had never crossed, he was convinced you would have lived a full, happy life. And, as always, he fucking ruined it. Ruined you.

As if his conscience was not tortured enough, little Ava popped in his mind. Another failure, a very grave one. The little girl had unearthed a side of him he thought dead: the longing father.

The one who would worry to death every time Sarah fell to her knees while learning to walk.

The one who felt extremely proud when she took her first steps unaided.

The one whose heart would flutter with anxiety on her first day of school.

The one who spent hours deciding what to get his baby girl for Christmas.

The one who tried baking a cake for her fifth birthday.

The one who trained with her for her first soccer match.

The one who cheered at the top of his lungs every time his baby girl would score a goal.

The one who couldn’t protect her.

The one who hugged her desperately while she took her last breath.

This felt like a second punishment. Joel shouldn’t have had let go of Ava, but what was he supposed to do? Watch you fall in a river full of furious clickers? He couldn’t. He had to choose and chose you. It was fucking wrong, he knew that ― he was so selfish he condemned an innocent toddler without giving her a second thought. Losing you ― this was karma. A twisted payback endorsed by the universe.

You had cried yourself to sleep, caving in to the irrevocable fate that awaited you. Your dreams were besmirched with haziness ― a whirlwind of clickers, people running directionless, Joyce and Ava falling to their demises, death everywhere.

Your heart wept at the memory. Joyce’s blank eyes haunted your dreams, as well as Ava’s small voice, begging her nana to come back from the dead. Life was so unfair you could not wrap your head around it. They were innocent. Joyce was the type of person who would give her everything for everyone ― so thoughtful, attentive, always willing to lend a hand or an ear. She had been a light for you, healing that part of your heart that missed your parents. How much you had wished that your sacrifice would have had worked out. To trade your life for hers. Joyce should be eternal.

And then little Ava… you felt agony just thinking about her reaching out to the darkness below. Her imploring her nana to get back to her, to hold her. Her life cut so short ― it was too cruel.

You had lost too much, too soon, too fast.

When you woke up, your emotions were weirdly in check. Defeated, you understood there was nothing you could do. About Joyce, about Ava, about yourself. The dice had been cast and nothing could change the end result. So you had to accept your destiny and make the most of what little time you had left with Joel.

You momentarily shut your eyes, feeling Joel’s fingertips rubbing your scalp. Swiping your tears, you turned your head ninety degrees to your left, looking up at Joel. He was blankly staring into the distance, lost in his own train of thought. He reminded you of when you two first met and that scared you. You didn’t need to read minds to know what was crossing his.

The worst part about dying was not death itself, but the devastation it left on its wakening. Those left behind had to deal with the drowning grief of losing a loved one ― the sorrow, the regrets, the lost opportunities, the what if’s.

You grabbed his hand to kiss his knuckles. His eyes slowly drifted down to you, stained with affliction and unspent tears. His thumb ghosted your lips, a caress that tugged at your heart. He bowed down to replace his thumb with his mouth, a light peck that tasted of goodbye.

You stroked his jaw when the kiss broke off and reluctantly sat up on the sofa, nestling against his side. He wrapped you with his arm, holding you tight, his chin resting on your crown. Your hand was placed on his chest ― his heart beating steadily, calming your inner panic.

You closed your eyes. You didn’t want to do this, but you were scared out of your mind. You had trusted Joel with your life, so you would trust him with your death too. It was so fucking selfish of you, it made you sick. You had seen what a prolonged death did to people and didn’t want to suffer the same fate. Withering away like a flame on a thunderstorm was not something you wanted to experience. You wanted it to be quick, painless.

You knew it would break him and you hated yourself for it. But fear, as overwhelming as it was, had a tight grip on your ability to think clearly.

“Joel”, you whispered, rubbing his chest. You didn’t dare to glance up, your eyes fixed somewhere in that tiny living room. “Please don’t hate me, but… when my death is near, would you… could you… please… just… put an end to it? To me?”, you wept, tears flowing again. “I know it’s cruel of me to ask this of you, but please understand… I don’t wanna come back as one of those things, I don’t wanna hurt you. Or anyone. I just want to rest knowing I didn’t cause any harm…”

You felt his heart picking up a wild pace under your fingertips. A very long silence ensued, which forced you to look up at him. His jaw was so clenched you could see the muscles straining.

Joel was making a titanic effort to keep his emotions at bay. A world of past demons, of rotten feelings and of secret tears overran his mind. Facing his own death was easier than accepting yours. How could he be a victim of fate, a witness to death and the executioner of it as well? He couldn’t, he didn’t have that many faces ― he just was a simple man whose life got complicated too easy, too fast.

As intricate as his thoughts were, as many atrocities as he had committed in the last year to keep you safe, he detested being the ghoul to those he treasured. You had asked him to be the worst version of himself ― one he did not know if he would ever come back from. Once the afterlife sullied his soul, Joel would lack the strength to wash it off himself. It would forever taint him, marking him as the grim reaper’s lackey.

But what was one more death on his conscience? Your death? He had already branded you for slaughter the moment he landed his eyes on you many moons ago. It was only fair you solicited he finished what he had started, after all.

Ending your suffering before it became too great to bear was the right thing to do.

You were dead anyway, speeding up the process was lenient of him.

If it was so rightful, why was he hesitating?

The irony of his dream would have struck him to his knees had he been standing. If he loved, really loved you, he would not vacillate. He would greet your death compliantly, certain his would quickly follow.

You were a fucking monster for asking that to the man you loved, for laying such a burden on him. How could you be so damn tactless? You knew how he thought of himself, how he believed he spoiled everything he touched. And here you were, reinforcing that idea for him.

Your sobs grew louder, your hand travelling from his chest to his jawline as you straightened your back to reach his cheek so his vacant eyes would meet yours.

“I’m truly sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I don’t know what overcame me, I just… I’m scared”, you muttered through trembling lips. “I’ll do it myself. Please, forget what I said, I didn’t mean to. I’m really sorry, Joel.”

Joel finally blinked, coming out of his trance. He cupped your chin, fear and grief swirling in his irises. He tilted his head down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll do it, sweetheart. I’ll do it”, he whispered breathlessly, and you just shattered in his arms.

You embraced him and cried until your eyes stung and ran dry ― until you flushed out such dreadful feelings from your system. Joel held you throughout, stoic and unfaltering, brushing your forehead with his mouth from time to time, whispering reassuring words in your ear.

You had noticed the difference in his voice, as if your request wholly broke him. How you wished you could retract yourself, travel back in time to restore the trust you thought you fractured. “No, I will. I will”, you repeated, inflicting your words with determination, one you didn’t feel.

This wasn’t how you wanted to spend your last hours on earth, lamenting yourself, wasting the little time you had left. This wasn’t you. You needed to show him you loved him, make him forget your sickening petition. A thought formed: you never replied to his confession ― a wrong you could right before you lost your mind to cordyceps.

You stirred in place to uncoil your back, your lips lined up with his. “I love you, Joel Miller. Since the moment I met you, I knew you were the one”, you mumbled with a sad smile before closing off the distance, your mouths crashing in desperate need.

Feeling his hesitance, you insisted with your tongue, stroking his with long brushes until Joel relaxed into your mouth. His hand slipped under your t-shirt, caressing your back, drawing invisible lines on your skin with the light touch of his fingertips.

“I heard you the other night, I thought I dreamt it”, he admitted in a hush when your lips detached.

“The other night, you mean yesterday?”, you teased with a small grin, and he nodded in reply. It did seem like an eternity away. “You didn’t dream it, I said it. I’ve been wanting to say it out loud for a while.”

“Me too, been thinking it for a bit, but didn’t know when it was the right moment, if there was a right moment. And then it felt like that moment was gone, that I was too late”, his tone became sombre as he spoke, your heart shuddering and breaking and healing and crying.

“You didn’t need to say it ― I knew, believe me, I really knew. I’ve known for so long now, before you even realised. I only wanted you to say it when you were ready”, you reassured him, your noses nuzzling.

It was a very little consolation, but you both held onto it.

This time it was Joel who resumed the kiss ― his lips were softer than usual, his mouth more begging than dominating. The caress of his tongue was affectionate, not demanding. You slid your feet from underneath and climbed on top of him, straddling him. You sat on his lap and peppered his jaw with little pecks. He hugged you by your waist, bringing you closer to him. You softly moaned when he trapped your mouth with his again, your crotch flush with his groin. You involuntarily rolled your hips against his, friction awakening your desire.

“I want you to make me feel alive one last time, Joel”, you sighed against the corner of his mouth, your palms against his cheeks.

He stopped and looked at you for a long second, probably debating himself. But whatever doubts crossed his minds, he put them to rest. Sometimes you wished you were a telepath ― Joel was a man of few spoken words, but you knew his inner talk was loud and loquacious.

With his forearms, he pressed your thighs around his waist. Placing his hands on your butt cheeks, he stood up with you in his arms, holding you tight against his body. Joel walked you both to what you assumed was the bedroom. It was quite minimalistic, white walls and spiderwebs decorating the corners. The bed seemed comfy with a very thick mattress and silky bedsheets.

He set you down on the bed before kneeling to undo the laces of his boots, throwing them to a side. Your shoes quickly followed his to the same corner. Joel stood back up and undid his belt, his eyes never leaving yours as you helped him. The unspoken words were loud in your head, neither of you needed to say anything else.

In silence, he undressed, leaving a pile of clothing on the floor. You admired his body ― his broad shoulders, his strong arms, his chiselled pecs, his slimmer waist and softer tummy. You traced the scar on his right hip, the one he got for defending Tommy. Ah, Tommy, another loss. You casted that thought away quickly.

He was gorgeous and he was yours. All yours. You loved this man with such passion, it sometimes startled you. The way he cared for you in all meanings of the word warmed your heart.

You caressed his sides, your fingers wandering to his ass cheeks to push him towards you. You kissed his belly button, his happy trail inviting you down, which you gladly followed. His erection was creeping up but was still soft, so you kneaded his testicles tenderly ― your free hand pumping him unhurriedly, teasing him, while your lips brushed his V line.

You looked up at him with adoring eyes before your tongue rippled around the plump tip. Slurping the precum off his slit without breaking visual contact, Joel tucked your hair away behind your ears and let you do as you pleased at your own pace. Closing your eyes, you took his manhood in your mouth, slathering your saliva on him. His cock was hungering for your touch, weeping, throbbing ― you could feel the heat hardening him under your tender hands and darting tongue. He tasted musky, but also sweet. Your favourite flavour. You heard a deep rumble coming from Joel’s chest as his glans caressed your uvula.

You took him out of your mouth when you felt the pulsation ― he was ready for you, whenever you wanted to take him in in your slick warmth. You slid your tongue across his whole length before leaning backwards to meet his eyes.

You saw lust, but also raw love. Joel motioned his hand in an upward gesture, and you stood up in front of him. Tasting himself in your mouth, he helped you undress completely. When you were both bare naked, Joel hugged you tightly. Oh, how you wished you could stay like that forever, frozen in time.

Joel gently pushed you to bed again, his lips never abandoning yours, and dug a knee on the mattress as you laid down on your back. His body was hovering over yours, his frame covering you.

He showered your neck with pecks and licks while your dewy lashes fluttered like butterflies. A soft, liquid whimper grew in your chest, breaking free. His calloused fingers cupped your breasts, his thumbs ghosting your nipples ― a light touch, electricity thundering down your spine. Your back arched, lifting off the mattress when his thick fingers were replaced with the welcomed wetness of his mouth. He did not linger for long though, set on a downward path.

Joel came off the bed, dragging your hips with him to the edge of the mattress. Knelt before you, you unconsciously parted your legs to make room for him. He marvelled at the sight, the proof of your passion pearling your velvety fold, the core of your pleasure begging to be paid due attention.

With the back of your knees resting on his shoulders, he kissed your mound while his thumb caressed your dripping entrance, circling it tentatively before drowning in it. You gasped at the sweet intrusion. Then his tongue scurried down, licking your clit with a languid, long stroke.

He lapped your creamy slit, gulping your fluids down ― everything you had to offer, he took. His tongue worshipped every crevice in your silky pussy, not even an inch was left unattended ― Joel made sure of it. He alternated between fingering you slowly with his thumb and introducing his tongue in your tight opening, stroking your g-spot the way you liked it. It was too much. The tense knot in your belly melted with no warning, releasing a spurt of lava into Joel’s mouth. You wailed, clutching the bedsheets, gushing for him, only for him, eyes averted.

Like a thirsty man in the middle of the desert looking for an oasis he could drink of, Joel made you come with his tongue over and over again. You lost count of how many times you orgasmed ― your skin pearly with sweat, your cunt overstimulated, your dusky nipples hardened, your limbs shaking, your heart burst with love.

Joel emerged from in between your legs and crawled on top of you as he dragged you to the centre of the king size bed. Holding his weight off you on his elbows, he blanketed your body with his ― his hardness intimately resting against your swollen mound. You slipped a hand between your bodies, your fingertips teasing the head of his column. You pumped him slowly as his mouth invaded yours with lazy strokes.

You bathed his cock in your slick, swiping it on your puffy lips ― drenching him in your arousal. Then you wielded him from the base and broke off the kiss. You wanted to look into his eyes as he possessed you one last time. As he loved you and you loved him back with your whole heart. Guiding his tip to your needy hole, you encouraged him to push it in with your heels on his butt cheeks, never breaking eye contact.

Both of you moaned as his cock found its way to your cervix, kissing it gently. You draped your legs around his waist, taking him in as far as you could house him. The connection you felt to him was eerie, almost unreal. His orbs were transfixed on yours, none of you able to look away. Your mouths were parted in unspoken awe, then he lightly bit your chin to stop himself from groaning like a madman.

You laced his neck with your arms to pull him towards you, your lips crashing as he rolled his hips into you. In, out, in, out ― very slowly, so slowly it just enhanced the intensity of his swaying.

“I love you, Joel”, you husked as his cock dragged along your anterior wall, pulling out to then ripple back into you.

Joel’s thrusts were lethargic, as if he didn’t want the moment to end. “I love you too”, he replied as his hips undulated like waves between your thighs.

Joel kissed the scar on your cheek as you foraged for his mouth. The façades had fallen. There was no roleplay, no dominance nor submission, no “sirs”, no dirty talk, no begging ― none of that. There was only two people showing their love and affection to each other. It was the first time you actually made love.

Because you were head over heels for him. Had been for a long while. And you just knew he loved you to bits, there was no denying that. The overwhelming sensation flooded you, tears welling up and shedding. You cradled his face and realised the apples of his cheeks were soddened too. Both of you were crying your love and your regrets ― your tears mixing with his, wetting your lips with a salty taste that got diluted in the shared dampness of your mouths.

Your heart wept for the time you didn’t have with each other. You hugged him closer to your chest, nipples kissing, when the soft hammering of his pelvis against yours picked up a faster but controlled, smooth pace. Way more intense too, his pulsing cock driving in as far as it could reach.

One of Joel’s tears fell on your neck when he kissed your chin, then slid down and gathered at the centre of your collarbone. His mouth dropped to lick it off your skin, leaving a different type of wet trail behind. You whimpered heavily, his tongue now attending the crook of your neck while Joel’s hand darted down, quickly finding your buttery button and stroking it dextrously.

Your moans grew louder ― your legs gripping tighter around his waist, your nails digging in the skin of his back, your back arching, your mouth open so wide it was an inch away from dislocating.

Joel didn’t contain his passion either, heaving notoriously, his chest rumbling with a deep, guttural growl. His dick was diving in you so smoothly, it even felt mythical. He was throbbing for you, your creaminess cloaking his manhood. He could feel your heartbeat contracting your inner walls every single time, his own pulse drumming in his cock at the same time. Your pulsating sexes were fully synchronised, in complete harmony.

You yielded first. Your overstimulated clit sent the signal across your whole body, a potent wave uprooting a high-pitched shriek off your lungs as you reached the best climax of your life. Your quivering cunt clamped down around Joel’s hot cock, squeezing him uncontrollably ― you could not get hold of your own muscles, they just spasmed around his pounding dick. You felt his manhood twitch violently inside you, announcing his own orgasm ― your pussy heartening his cock to come.

Joel felt his balls tense up, his lower belly contracting so hard it was painful. He was so turned on, a prolonged howl escaped his mouth, cavernous and thundering. His dick writhed in your welcoming hole, his hips stuttering with measured effort. He placed the palms of his hands to each side of your head to lift his torso off you, his hips still waving against yours, and caught a glimpse of your heavenly face: half-lidded teary eyes, O-shaped mouth, your eyebrows relaxed. You looked so damn beautiful, the most beautiful he had ever seen you, so much so his heart tugged with longing, with love, with adoration.

With a painful groan and out of habit, he tried to pull his cock out of you to come outside. But you quickly shook your head no, raising your arms to lace your hands behind his neck, forcing his head down towards you. The heels of your feet pressed against his butt cheeks again, your legs locking around his waist to keep him in the place he needed to be ― inside you.

“Please, Joel, I want to feel you, I need to feel you”, you urged him, his breath mixing with yours, mouths agape.

With such plea, Joel finally let go at the same time he claimed your lips with his, moaning into your mouth. Devouring you, his cum spurted out into your inviting, slick cave, in several waves. He filled you up to the brim, his cock still throbbing, painting your inner walls white. He remained still between your legs, his dick slowly softening inside you, until he finally pulled out, both of you grunting.

You squashed your cunt to keep his warm spent in your pussy for as long as you could.

Joel kissed your cheeks, sweeping away your tears with his lips while your hands cradled his face, your thumbs brushing his away too. You had never seen him cry before. It killed you knowing that he felt so safe with you, he could let his walls down and be himself without any repercussions. His teary brown eyes pulled yours into their orbits ― you were unable to look away.

Joel closed the distance and sweetly kissed you. Again, that heavy, goodbye feeling nested in your chest, squeezing your heart and your throat.

This was goodbye. You would never see him again and that broke your heart into tiny little pieces that could not be glued back together.

Don’t think about it.

Joel laid on his back and you quickly curled up against his chest, hiding your face from him. Silence ensued, each lost in their own thoughts. You pecked his chest while your fingertips lightly traced every line on his tummy.

“Promise me you won’t do anything rash, please. Go look for Tommy after… after I’m gone. Please don’t even consider… following me.” You whispered, slowly looking up at him. “Please.”

His eyes wandered on your face, then he sighed heavily, looking away. “I can’t promise you that, sweetheart.” His orbs slowly locked on yours again, your bottom lip quivering with sadness. “I may or may not consider it, but Death is capricious and, sooner or later, it always comes knocking.”

“I hope it’s later rather than sooner. You deserve happiness, Joel.” Your words, albeit stammering, were sincere.

“This is my happiness, right here with you in my arms. If Death came looking for me tomorrow, I would die a happy man”, he admitted in a whisper.

Your heart exploded at his confession. You laughed and cried at the same time, kissing his jawline. “You do know how to make a girl feel special.”

“That’s because you are.” He shrugged, hugging you closer to his chest.

“I love you ― to the edge of the atlas and back.” Your hand caressed his left cheek, bowing his head towards you so you could capture his mouth.

You made love twice more that night, none of you wanting to fall asleep. You made sure every minute counted, showing and telling each other how much you loved one another.

You also cried together to purge your sorrows. When you thought no more tears could be shed, one of you would prove yourselves wrong, breaking another invisible dam. You both felt vulnerable, but also loved.

Soon enough, dawning colours painted the sky ― shades of red and orange filtering through the curtains, tinting the white walls of the bedroom with warmth.

You sighed, resting your cheek against his pec, feeling heavy and cold. Very cold. Suddenly, you shivered. Joel noticed your trembling, instantly worried. He pressed the palm of his hand against your forehead.

“Honey, you’re burning up.” His voice seemed to be far away.

You felt so drowsy you only managed to hum, “Mhmm?”.

Then you blindly plunged into darkness, unaware of Joel calling your name, panic in his voice.