#someone who can write should make this a fic

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Girl, it's not just an emotional rollercoaster it's a full on emotional CARNIVAL 🤣

I love this observation. That's exactly what I felt inherently when I was writing that line. It felt more powerful to me than "I told you so" or the like. It has the feeling of that, but with more of an edge, even though you know he cares about her.

The line is devastating. It ''bites." It's more than just telling someone that they messed up, it's also kinda catty lol.

LMAO I remember someone saw the preview of Part 2 and commented, "the quiet, but devastating anger he'd be reckoned with if he said that to me." And I was like, YEP, that's exactly it. Mans playing with his life. 😅😅😅

He really bet it all. And I'm in love with the person who said "the quiet, but devastating anger he'd be reckoned with if he said that to me." 😂

That's precisely how I intended it! Now looking back, I feel like I should have had her leave him by himself in his room to sleep in another room. But at the time I was writing, I was thinking that for her in particular, despite this being the biggest fight they've had so far in their relationship, he's still the one that makes her feel safe after a bad hunt. 💙

I think it would have been a bigger gut punch to Dean if she didn't stay in the room with him, but I still think that the her turning her back on him and not letting him touch her kinda hit the nail on the head pretty well too.

Aww thank you! 😭😭 Weirdly enough, that was one of my favorite parts to write? Maybe I just like the heartfelt hurt/comfort breaking into fluff moments. The "better off alone" thing I thought was implied throughout the later seasons of the show after Dean lets go of Lisa and Ben, so I wanted to explore that deeper here, even though it hurt my heart to write it. 💙

It's not weird, I think that it's really fitting! And I also really like writing the heartfelt hurt/comfort breaking into fluff too lol. But you're absolutely right, Dean really does adopt that mentality after Lisa and Ben and it is really heartbreaking to see him like that.

Everyone's crying!! 😭 YES ABSOLUTELY SHE DOES -- and she's a verified crier. I see a lot of fics where the reader is tough as nails, "doesn't cry very often," but I wanted to create a reader character who is a badass, but still has a soft heart. (Latinas also can be very emotional, but not to say we're adhering to stereotypes around here LOL. 🤣🤣)

As much as I do love the readers who are "tough as nails" and "doesn't cry very often" I love the readers who are strong but are allowed to break. It makes them seem more real. Because as much as I believe that there are people who are completely just insane badasses, they've gotta have some kind of emotion or compassion or else they don't seem human. Also "Latinas also can be very emotional, but not to say we're adhering to stereotypes around here LOL" I'm DEAD 😂

Sorry for jerking the angsty chain again there! 🤣 Poor guy, he went through an ordeal just as much as she did.

Please never apologize for the angst. I LOVE IT! And I really did also love how emotional this fic made me. It was wonderful lol.

Fun fact on her confession! When she says I love you twice, she's actually saying it in two different ways:

I love you, you’d said. I love you ("te amo," you're my love) and I love you ("te quiero," you're my family), more than you can believe and understand.

GIRL WHAT?! OH MY WORD THAT IS JUST SO MUCH BETTER! Thank you for explaining that to me!

Thank you SO very much!! Honestly you don't know how happy it makes me that you're enjoying this series so far -- and spoiling me with such lovely and thoughtful feedback. 🥰💕💕

No, THANK YOU for writing this wonderful fic/series! 😊

Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster. 

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood. 

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming. 

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done. 

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his. 

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires. 

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest. 

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital. 

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead. 

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness. 

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?” 

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him. 

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son is dead. 

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it. 

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says. 

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you. 

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.” 

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps. 

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.” 

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms. 

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely. 

You truly become incensed at that. 

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks. 

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn. 

Dean calls your name in frustration. 

“What?” you hiss. 

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks. 

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything. 

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town. 

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own. 

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes. 

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back. 

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence. 

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space. 

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music. 

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts. 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table. 

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips. 

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard. 

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart. 

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.” 

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible. 

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.  

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him. 

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—” 

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand. 

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it. 

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes. 

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms. 

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing. 

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.” 

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea. 

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet. 

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face. 

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room. 

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.” 

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips. 

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.  

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve. 

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head. 

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing. 

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.  

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in. 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand. 

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.  

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance. 

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing. 

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.” 

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot. 

“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit. 

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest. 

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.” 

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders. 

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance. 

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles. 

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss. 

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question. 

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking. 

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts. 

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine. 

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close. 

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.  

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck. 

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there. 

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms. 

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze. 

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him. 

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs. 

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye. 

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms. 

Oh, fuck yeah. 

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs. 

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up. 

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control. 

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls. 

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums. 

He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk. 

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground. 

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit. 

He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck. 

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.  

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you. 

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask. 

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love. 

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze. 

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease. 

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts. 

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs. 

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.  

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.  

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase. 

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room. 

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest. 

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment. 

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room. 

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again. 

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]: 

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re shameless. Keep messing with me, damn it. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]: 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@hobby27 @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesdeanvessel @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @emily-winchester @deans-baby-momma @melancholictearz @luvs4dria @nic-kolas @katherineann83

@sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @deanwinchesterswitch @freewastelandstrawberry

@theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420

@candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @beskarfilms @skyesthebomb @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @iamsapphine @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @chernayawidow @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses

[katerinadeannika]

Notes after watching the full Behind the Scenes of Agatha All Along posted on Nov 13th 2024:

There was no way they could have written an ending for Agatha that did not involve death.

I have been saying this to all the naysayers from the get-go, to all the people making posts about being done or fed up or angry about the ending, or how it makes no sense, or how they should have could have done something different and been fine story wise. The behind the scenes confirmed my point.

The main through line for the entire show was the theme of Death; of Agatha never being able to escape it. Where she both loves and hates death and Death, the concept and the woman. Where she's been running from Death for centuries, but Death came for her son and was always coming for her the second she slowed down.

Every completed trial meant someone would die. Billy created the road based off the rumors and witch lore. And the only rumors out in the witch world were that someone knew someone else's aunt/relative/friend who had undertaken the road and never returned. In reality, that was Agatha's doing. But to Billy, it meant that somehow, the Road took its toll on them. And when the coven traveled it, the Road exacted the same price that Billy expected it to. Death or near death at every trial.

The first trial killed Sharon. The second gave Alice her power back and then Billy almost died (and probably would have if Agatha hadn't pleaded with Rio on his behalf, if the coven hadn't worked together, and if Billy hadn't made the Road with his own powers. Some interesting combo of the all the above). The third trial killed Alice who was trying to save Agatha. And the fourth trial killed Lilia and the Salem Seven.

Jac said she intentionally wrote it where Death was a very real thing that everyone in the show had to come to terms with.

And for Jen Kale, her gift was already dead, and she was supposed to resurrect it and take her own power back. She escaped because after Agatha's trial, the fifth one, someone DID die.

And this time it was Agatha.

Agatha had avoided it every other time by either being saved, or having the rest of the coven as fodder for death.

But in the end, when she could have left once again, she must decide who has to pay the final price for her invention of the Road. The Road that she has used to kill and lure countless witches to their doom over the past few centuries.

She can save the boy she has come to love and mentor after the loss of her son. Or, she can leave once again. And so she makes the final moment of self sacrifice, and chooses the final victim of the Road: Herself

She has been running from Death for centuries.

For Agatha's story to have a thematic ending that wasn't cheap or manufactured, she had to stay true to that through-line. That's how writing works. You find your themes. You write about and explore them. And you have a final consequence that determines if it's a positive arc or a negative arc for your main character.

They chose for Agatha to have a positive arc. A moment of final growth. To end the show on her finally making the right decision, even at the cost of the life she's sustained through countless centuries and via countless deaths.

There was no way the show could have ended any other way.

PS: There is no excuse to hate on it. At all.

It doesn't meet any of the criteria for the 'Bury your gays' trope. It doesn't even end Agatha’s story. But it does provide expertly written, well thought out, thematically poignant endings for all the characters in a way that satisfies their personal journey—throughout the show and the centuries.

And I am so glad they made it, and that it ended how it did. I wouldn’t want it any other way. As a writer. As an editor. As a viewer. And as a lesbian.

Agatha All Along is a masterpiece in TV writing. And I can’t wait for more.

PSS: Watch the Behind the Scenes on youtube that Marvel just posted. It’s super good and includes all sorts of info to help with fic writing and just general understanding of the writing and show creation. Also lots of Kathryn Hahn and Aubrey Plaza in interviews!

TLDR: Quit complaining and griping about the ending. It was written beautifully. The reason you got so invested is because of all the heavy death elements throughout that made things mean something. Embrace it. Or find media where you were the target audience. Cause if you couldn’t handle something well written that ends like this, you weren’t the target audience. And that’s okay. But move on before you keep griping and causing issues with the community and the cast.

[fang-frenzy-fic-exchange]

Interest Check!

Hello everybody!! Putting out an initial interest check to see if folks are interested in participating in an exchange like this!

In short, Fang Frenzy would be a vampire-centric writing exchange, hosted on AO3 but with announcements provided through this Tumblr and a Dreamwidth community! All told, it would run from March 3rd to June 2nd!

More information about Fang Frenzy can be found under the cut if you're undecided!

What is this?

Fang Frenzy is a writing exchange, centered on vampires, vampire-adjacent characters, and other such bloodsuckers! All works written for this exchange must include at least 1 vampire or vampire-adjacent character!

How does it work?

Exchanges on AO3 work in six parts: Nominations, signups, matching, the writing period, the Pinch Hit period, and reveals!

During nominations, you suggest fandoms and characters to add to the exchange's tagset. The tagset is the list of all the fandoms and characters people want to write about during the exchange.

During signups, you choose fandoms and characters from the tagset that you want to write about, as well as fandoms and characters that you would like to receive a gift fic for!

When signups close, matching begins! You'll be assigned someone to write a gift fic for, and someone will be assigned to write a fic for you! Matching takes some time and happens behind the scenes so everyone's assignments stay secret.

During the writing period, you create a gift for your assignment! For this exchange, you will have 45 days to write it, with no extensions. Don't tell anyone who your assignment is!

The Pinch Hit period happens when the writing period is over, and is a short period of time before gifts become visible. If someone doesn't submit their fic by the deadline or if there are any remaining Pinch Hits, people who accept these Pinch Hits will have this week to finish them.

After the Pinch Hit period, gifts will become visible, and you'll get to read your gift! The authors of all works in the exchange will stay anonymous until the date of reveals! After which, the exchange is over!

When is it?

All phases begin at 12:00 AM and end at 11:59 PM Eastern Time (UTC -4 for the Majority of the Exchange), and take place in the year 2025. These dates assume that all Pinch Hits are fulfilled on time!

Nominations: March 3 - March 16

Signups: March 17 - March 30

Matching: March 31 - April 2

Writing: April 3 - May 18 (Works are due by the end of this phase!)

Pinch Hit Period: May 19 - May 25

Collection Opens: May 26 (World Dracula Day!)

Author Reveals: June 2nd

What if I need to drop out?

If you need to drop out, the assignment you were given to write will become a Pinch Hit. If you drop out, you are not guaranteed a gift, and your signup will not become a Pinch Hit if the person writing your gift drops out or defaults. Pinch Hits contain a participant's signup, and are posted to the Tumblr and Dreamwidth. Anyone can claim them to write them. Gifts will not become visible as long as there are Pinch Hits remaining unwritten.

What if I don't make the deadline?

Similarly to the above, if you do not post your fic by the deadline, your assignment will become a Pinch Hit, and you will not be guaranteed a gift in the event that the person writing your gift also didn't make the deadline.

Can I write for someone other than my assignment?

If they are accepting gifts through AO3 and indicate that they would be okay with "treats" in their signup, you can! If you wish to allow others who are not assigned to write your gift to create additional fics for you, you should indicate that you would like to receive treats in your signup.

A treat is just the term for an extra gift from an exchange.

What fandoms and characters can I nominate?

You can nominate any characters from any fandom! When you're writing your signup, take into account that all works must contain at least 1 vampire or vampire-adjacent character. This means that works created for fandoms that do not contain vampiric characters must be written such that they do contain vampiric characters. In short, if your fandom has no vampires, then you should write it as a Vampire AU or something of the like.

What is a "vampire-adjacent character?"

A vampire-adjacent character is one that exhibits vampiric traits, but might not be called a vampire by name, or may have traits that differentiate them from classic vampires. Examples include the Bloodsuckers from Darkest Dungeon, Flutterbat from My Little Pony, and Vladats from Ben 10.

Whether or not a character fits into this category is decided by me, (FangFrenzyMod) on a case-by-case basis. If you have any questions about this, feel free to reach out through any of the contact methods available. (Email (fangfrenzymod@gmail.com), Tumblr, Dreamwidth)

How much should I write?

There's no word maximum, but the work you write should be at least 500 words.

What can I write?

You can write anything, as long as it fulfills your assignment's signup and contains at least 1 vampire or vampire-adjacent character. In order to fulfill your assignment's signup, your work must belong to at least 1 of their requested fandoms and contain at least 1 of their requested characters, and your work must not include anything your assignment specifically indicated that they did not want to receive. These specifications will be indicated in your assignment's "DNW" within their signup, which stands for "Do Not Write" or "Do Not Want". If your assignment does not include a DNW, then you are free to write anything as long as it fills the other criteria.

What can I include in my DNW?

You can include anything in your DNW, from characters, to tropes, to scenarios, to tags, to certain ships, to writing details (like POV, certain words to exclude, certain formats), and more. The only thing you cannot DNW is genfic. (Genfic is fic that does not contain ships). We cannot force anyone to write ships that they don't want to write, and we cannot force people to write Not Safe For Work content.

What if I have a question I need to ask my assignment?

Reach out to me through Tumblr, Dreamwidth, or email (fangfrenzymod@gmail.com)! I will forward your question to your assignment so that you stay anonymous. This method is not foolproof and does not guarantee a response. Do not attempt to talk to your assignment by yourself, as that would risk revealing your identity for the exchange.

I have a question that's not here!

Contact me through Tumblr, Dreamwidth, or email (fangfrenzymod@gmail.com) and I'll get back to you!

[albinokittens300]

!Spoilers Under The Cut!

A/N: SO...been a minute since I wrote fic but. Made sense since I have ideas floating around might as well write and share them. Please note not only am I rusty writing in general, this is my first attempt at these characters. Be gentle on me please XD. I do hope you all enjoy. Let me know what you think, and maybe I'll try and get another one out maybe before Act 2 drops this weekend. All this ended up being was a little drabble of a possible reunion between Ekko and Jinx because I need some Timebomb goodness. Isha making an appearance is a bonus! Fair warning I make some wild leaps about what goes on during Act 2, so beware this is based some of my speculation.

He lets it go on for a few turns into different allies before finally stopping.

Ekko knows his little shadow is nothing more than a child, judging by the sound of the sets on the stone and the occasional clang of metal being kicked or tripped on. He usually wouldn't be worried- but with no one chasing after and taking her back to where she belonged, he took it as the sign it was. To follow him so far means she is all alone. Having just gotten back across the bridge, helping an orphan wasn't something on the list of deep concerns. At least, not until it needed to be.

"As quiet as you are, I have to say it'd be easier to get around if you weren't hiding." He says softly. Light brown eyes peek around the corner, playing at being undercover without actually doing so. She is hard to make out in low and greeish light, but he manages. "You can come out. Not gonna hurt you. All safe, I promise."

His hair raises, though, when her gaze flicks back to where he can't see. By all appearances, she is getting permission. So the girl isn't alone. When she takes a few steps out, he tries to remain unsuspicious.

"Whose behind there?" He asks as he kneels while she approaches.

"Definitely not who you're expecting." A darker, familiar voice speaks.

Jinx hasn't even revealed herself before the instinct takes over, and Ekko grabs the little girl and puts her behind him.

Attempting to pull her away from the known danger sets off another problem, though- the little girl reacts as if she has been burned. Letting out a cry, she wiggles away from him quickly before running back and wrapping herself around Jinx. While she removes the hood of her cloak, revealing a far too proud smirk, another arm wraps around the kid's shoulder. His eyes quickly scan her other side. A few bombs are latched there, but no pistol or any of her bigger toys. It was not a situation he loved, but it was preferable to facing down a minigun.

When Ekko's eyes return to the child, he doesn't think someone so small has ever looked at him so frightened. Something screams this isn't right as he watches for a few seconds.

"Relax, this one, I'll admit, has a reason to be a bit jumpy." She says, directing the words at the girl. Then, leveling a look at him. "What was it Vi said you had to say when the two of ya caught up? About looking good for a dead person?"

"That makes three of us, then." He says back. "Wanna explain what is going on down here, seeing as you are my welcoming party."

"Ah, nothing much. War, revolution, infighting, and unifying! All of that. If you are looking for the Firelights, they aren't at the tree. Or what's left of it." She says with a wave of her hand and a shrug. The blood runs like ice at the words and he rounds on her.

"What did you-"

"Woah, woah, I didn't do anything. Those wackos from Noxus? They are the ones who tracked the tree. My only part was helping everyone out." She hisses back. When his face changes, so does hers—relaxing just the slightest bit. Helped them out? Months trapped away should mean nothing surprise him. But it does.

He sees her arms crossed, watching and almost waiting for him to decide how this will go. Deciding to match her lack of hostility, just this once, he looks around to the eerily empty and quiet lanes.

"Guess I got a lot to catch up on."

That brings a less taunting smirk to her face. "Just a bit."

[shellxrls]

i blocked you for the sake of both our behalves. i had nothing to say in response because i did not want to get into a personal discussion nor hurt you if personal trauma was involved (as it often ends up being forced into such conversations). what you have to say about what i choose to write isn’t going to change anything about me doing it, & so i didn’t see the value in getting into a pointless argument that wld end with no opinions changed and a whole lot of upset.

in regards to other comments, of course i blocked them ? if someone is outright telling me my writing triggers them why would i not do them the favour of removing all potential triggering content from their dash entirely and leaving it at that.

but since you chose to make such a post, i will now address it and start the argument you so clearly desired in which i justify having a rape kink & why i will continue writing about it despite this:

1. first i want to clarify that this fic was dubious consent, not hard rape nor cnc. rafe does roofie reader however she never explicitly tells him to stop nor outright voices discomfort, in fact she seems to want in initially. there is a lot of ambiguity about consent and it’s not categorised as something entirely consensual nor entirely non-consensual within both their dialogue, hence: dubious consent. i made sure to tag all possible triggers in the description & in the tags. not my fault people choose to read (& not filter) what they know will trigger them.

2. to say you aren’t judging me nor kink shaming when you make a whole call out post is frankly ironic, especially suggesting what i could’ve written instead. by that logic i want to establish that it is entirely okay for you to have strong emotions about this, so do i, simply on an opposing scale. however i do not believe because of this you are owed to a right to tell me exactly what i shouldn’t be writing — instead you should reflect on your own emotions and how you can handle them outside of being authoritarian for a vein of fiction (darkfic) that has existed for decades.

now, are you aware that there is a significant statistical correlation between dark media/fic communities & rape/abuse/trauma survivors ?

such writings provide people with a lifeline to reframe trauma and explore taboo situations in a safe and fantastical manner, ensuring that nobody gets hurts and instead everything is practised in a supportive community instead of shameful exile. nobody within these communities pressures others to enjoy it either, most works are strictly tagged and clearly labeled in the most blunt manner possible, we are never propagating such fantasies, we are providing a safe space. to put it in the most simple terms possible i’d like to direct you to the points made in this post, summarised:

When you oppose darkfic because it "harms survivors", you are talking directly over large crowds of survivors who will tell you they find darkfic to be a validating, healing experience.

When you claim that darkfic is self-destructive and unhealthy, you are privileging your personal beliefs over the lived experience of other people.

When you accuse darkfic authors of glorifying and supporting real-life abuse, you accuse survivors of glorifying and supporting their own abusers.

When you blame darkfic for supporting rape culture, you are making victims responsible for the actions of their oppressors.

When you set conditions around the creation and enjoyment of darkfic - aka "it's only okay if you're a survivor" - you create a culture of coercive disclosure, where survivors are expected to trade their right to privacy for the right to live free of harassment.

When you criticise darkfic authors for using survivor status as an "excuse", you are locking us out of our own communities and denying our past traumas for the sake of a political argument.

as i predicted from the beginning, i can assume despite reading this your stance on my writing has likely not changed. however i hope it has at least provided you with some clarity on why you should stop harassing darkfic writers, and at the very least start filtering ur tags.

the way this author genuinely got mad and blocked me because i RESPECTFULLY key word RESPECTFULLY gave my opinion on her literally writing R*PE EXPLICITLY and i was so nice about it and they blocked other peoples comments too and are only leaving the nice ones complimenting their amazing R*PE writing skills please tell me if i came off rude or condescending

this is what i commented their @shellxrls

[spacecasehobbit]

After seeing yet another popular tumblr post with thousands of reblogs bemoaning the state of comments on fanfics these days - more specifically, the supposed lack of commenting these days, as opposed to The Good Old Days - I have decided that this is in fact a hill I am willing to die on. I'm making a separate post about it rather than reblogging the latest iteration, though. This is hardly the first time I've seen these types of discussions, and my issue is with the mindset in general, not any of the specific people who hold it.

In the most recent version, the entire post with all its various arguments and assertions was plenty frustrating across the board, but it included one line in particular that cut beautifully to the heart of my issue with this type of discussion. The line in question:

"fanfic authors now are treated like content mills, and not like valued members of a creative community who thrive on interaction."

Once I read this bit, I had to stop, take a few deep breaths, and then go make my own post before I imploded over the sheer level of NOPE this line inspired. And okay. The thing is... I want to say this as gently and kindly as I possibly can, but I need to be real blunt for a minute, too.

That line I quoted sounds like a wannabe social media influencer.

It sounds like a person who thinks fandom is - or should be - comprised of fanfiction writers, aka Valued Content Creators, and their respective communities of readers, aka Content Consumers, a strictly distinct group from fic writers, for whom they create fanfiction content and who in turn pay them back with attention and validation in the form of comments and praise.

It does not sound like a fanfiction author who enjoys the creative hobby of writing stories based on characters and worlds from existing stories, engaging in their hobby within a community of other likeminded creators of fan content.

Frankly, fandom has always been worst when it starts obsessing over Big Name Fans who wind up treated like elite fandom social influencers, instead of hobbyists engaging in a fun hobby together based on mutual interests. A shift towards the idea that every fanfic writer should be effectively a social media influencer whose community consists of fans reading the content they oh-so-lovingly create (but only if they get enough positive attention from passive consumers, presumably readers who don't write their own fic or expect comments back from the author in return) sounds like an absolutely awful direction for fandom to take.

I don't want fanfiction and fandom spaces to turn into another social media space full of Our Valued Content Creators, all fighting to build the largest "community" of passive consumers turned devoted followers.

Again, that sounds frankly fucking awful.

The people who only read fanfiction are not your fanfiction community, because they are not engaging in the shared community hobby of writing fanfiction. Your fanfiction community is, perhaps, the other people who are also writing their own fanfiction based on someone else's original work.

So perhaps if comments really are declining on fics these days, instead of asking why passive readers aren't heaping praise on every fic they read and making sure it all happens where the Valued Creator can hear it, you should ask yourself how many other fanfics you've commented on recently, and then go comment on another one if you're still feeling down about your own work.

Or, I dunno, find a fic author you admire and send them a message on tumblr, if you've already commented on all of their fics that you read and enjoyed.

Or start your own discord for likeminded fans, or find a way to set up your own fandom forums centered on your personal fandom interests and invite other fic authors to come join.

Or, like, anything that involves reaching out to the actual community of hobbyists you can reasonably consider to be a community you are actually a part of.

Aka, other fanfiction writers.

[lillaydee]

Alone

Jackson! Joel Miller / OFC

Annie had always been alone. Until Jackson. But is it too good to be true?

Note: This was my second fic ever - the first one I wrote about Joel. Started writing to practice using English so if the language is bad please forgive me.

Also, Tess MIGHT not be shown in the best light here, so fair warning.

Word Count: 13,939 (It was 4 chapters, I combined it for this purpose)

WARNINGS:

EXTREME ANGST, Loneliness, Tess Lives (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Character Death, Minor Character Death, Not Canon Compliant, Graphic Death Descriptions

ANNIE

Annie had never really had people in her life. For less than a day, she had a mother and a father, both of whom immediately decided that having a baby was too much for them. She was found in a box in front of the fire station, and then immediately placed in the foster system, passed around, not really wanted by anyone, never staying anywhere long enough to make friends or get attached to people, until she turned 18 and was released into the society. She got a job as an assistant at the library, stacking books and helping with record keeping. For 30 glorious days, she had friends and a small room she rented from an old lady whom she helped with daily chores. She had a purpose and was looking forward to settling into her new life with her first paycheck.

And then the world went to shit.

For 20 years, Annie floated around, surviving, never really making any friends, just living, fighting, trying so hard to make sure she lived another day. Several times, she found places to set root in. Abandoned houses or shacks that can shelter her from harsh winters, and enough resources for her to forage or hunt for food. Those were the best days, she often thought. Getting to keep house, having a routine. But she was still alone. Alarmingly, she caught herself saying what was on her mind out loud daily. Just describing her day-to-day activities to the room or surrounding area, just to not lose her mind. Before she knew it, it became a habit. It’s not weird when she was alone. Not like there was anyone to laugh at her for talking to herself.

Every time, just when she got comfortable in her makeshift home, raiders would come. The infected would come. FEDRA would come. She was but one woman. She could fight, sure, years of surviving in this afterworld had forced her to learn, but she was still one woman. So, the backpack she kept ready to go was hauled onto her back, and a blanket filled with what she could carry slung over her shoulder, and she ran. On to the next place.

Sometimes she would be taken in by groups of people she met along her way, but the groups always moved on. In fact, on more than one occasion, she woke up to an empty camp, the people who had people having moved on without her, deciding she was not worth the resources needed to keep her with them. At least that’s what she told herself.

The men had use for her, though. They always had. Particularly in secluded places and under sleeping bags at night. She often wondered if she was upset by this, if she should feel used, offended. But to her, this was just another day. She had to survive somehow. And if her looks and body can help her survive another day, then so be it. The women did not see her that way, though. To them, she was a threat. Someone who mysteriously still looked good despite not having a meal plan and sleeping in the dirt every night for years on end. Someone who their men and protector could not seem to keep their eyes and hands off. Even at the end of the world, jealousy prevailed.

The men, although eager to take their payments from her, she noticed, would never put her before their women, which, in retrospect, was a good thing, but not for her. During every attack, every defense, she found that no one had her back. Often, she was left as bait so the others could escape, the men holding their women close to get them to safety. What she wouldn’t give to have someone do that for her.

She carried on as best she could. Moving from place to place, wandering around, never really sleeping, or eating well, until one day, she hit her limit. The conversations with herself stopped. She didn’t even have anything to say to herself anymore. How long can she keep doing this? Although she wasn’t aware of it at the time, going day to day for 20 years without anyone having her back finally caught up with her. She was all alone, with no one to love or live for, and no one to do the same for her. She felt tired. Surrendering, deciding that she had survived enough, and ready to give up. She stopped eating. Her body eventually got so weak she took to crawling to move when finding shelter but remained in the same area for weeks. When winter hit its peak, she stopped moving altogether. When her body grew numb and stopped shivering, she thought of the 30 days when she had people, had hope and purpose. If she was taking her last breath, those 30 days, the happiest days of her life were what she wanted to think about. No sadness when dying. Not when she had no one who would be sad for her demise.

That’s when Joel and Tommy found her, almost an icicle, starving and emaciated, and brought her back to Jackson.

From the moment Annie was brought into Jackson, Joel took it upon himself to make sure she was doing all right. He made sure Maria housed her in a small cottage at the end of the town, not far from his own place. He and Tommy came by every day for a week, fixing whatever needed fixing and making the place livable. Ellie and Maria came by and brought supplies – blankets, clothing, toiletries, even basic grocery needs – so she could start her new life in Jackson.

Maria learnt of her short experience at the library in the before, so asked her to help out in the library. Every day, Annie woke up, went to the mess hall for breakfast, went to the library, had lunch and continued working until the evening. Then, in the evenings, she would go to the storage warehouse, helping sort out supplies that had been brought in by the patrol groups, or even reorganizing a few things around. She kept to herself, though. She ate alone, worked alone, and went home alone. But she had a routine, people to serve and help. And in doing so people served and helped her as well, all a part of the ‘bartering’ system in Jackson.

Joel, Ellie, Tommy and Maria said hello every now and again. Tommy and Maria were friendly enough. Asking her if she needed anything, making sure she was alright and settling in well. Ellie began to stop by at the library, or even the warehouse, talking her ears off every single time. Annie liked spending time with her. Especially since she didn’t need to contribute much. Ellie would tell her everything she learnt, and then some. Movies she had watched, music she listened to, food she had tried, friends she had made. Annie began feeling less lonely, feeling as if she actually had people, even if for just a few minutes a day.

But Joel did more. Her firewood was always fully stocked. Her windows and doors never squeaked, her rotten steps magically fixed. He brought her bread every now and again. Jackets and books and whatever else he thought she would enjoy, extra fruits that he could get his hands on, anything, really. And if he happened to be on his way home at the same time as her, which was suspiciously often, whatever was burdening her hands would immediately be whisked away into his strong arms. He would walk the extra distance past his own house just to ease her person of anything she had to carry, which, at one point, was just her jacket, which she had taken off from being sweaty after a long day of organizing at the warehouse. He didn’t speak, though. Just a silent presence, grunting hellos and goodbyes sometimes. But no more.

After a few weeks of these unspoken actions, he began to linger on her porch after walking her home. And slowly but surely, the silences faltered. He started small talk with her. Asking about her day. It seemed Joel had never met anyone who was less prone to speaking than he was. She had been alone for so long, only having herself to speak to, so conversations did not come naturally to her. But she got used to Joel’s small talk, and eventually got comfortable talking to him, albeit in mumbled, or muttered short sentences. He was not exactly chatty to start with anyways.

When she got sick one day, these four people made sure she was taken care of, taking turns to check in on her, but Joel came every single day when he was not on patrol. When she got better, Joel continued to come every day, beginning with small talk on the porch, which eventually led to him being invited in for drinks, and their relationship progressed from there. Joel would tell her about his life from before. About his work, his daughter Sarah, about the depression and aimlessness that came from her death.

He told her about Tess, about his regrets of keeping her at arm’s length, of using her for survival, of scratching an itch while never acknowledging what might had been his true feelings for her until it was too late. He told her that despite his regret, he wasn’t sure if he would ever risk having such attachments to anyone ever again, his fear of losing them and down spiraling again too great a cost for his already fragile mind and heart. But then Ellie managed to somehow make him let his guard down, and now that he was safe in Jackson, with Ellie, Tommy and Maria, he wondered if he could risk his heart again. Perhaps let someone else in.

Their relationship turned physical sometime after that confession. That first time, Annie was shocked at how different things were with Joel. He was gentle, considerate, unlike the men she met before Jackson, who were only thinking of their own satisfaction, and never caring about hers. Joel explored her. Touched her. Felt her. Caressed her. With Joel, she didn’t feel like being used for sex. She felt as if she was cared for. Like she mattered. Important. And most importantly, she was sated. She woke up alone, his side of the bed rumpled, but oh so cold. Not that she minded. Other men left as soon as they were done with her. Why not him? This was what she knew. This was how sex was.

So, when he came back, time and again, and not always for sex, she was shocked. This is unfamiliar territory. He would still talk to her. He didn’t treat her like some leftover food he had spat out. She was not used to this. He seemed to still be interested in her. The sex remained intimate. Special. Eventually, he would hold her close after, and they would talk about nothing and everything. He never stayed over, though. He had Ellie to think about, he told her. She understood.

Despite their rendezvous turning sexual, Joel kept it private. He never showed her affection in public. Never sat for meals with her at the mess hall. Never sat with her during movie nights. Never danced with her at parties or gatherings. Behind closed doors, he could not keep his hands off her. But in public, he only watches her from afar, content with allowing Ellie, Tommy and Maria to entertain her and keep her company.

Annie didn’t mind. She knew how he felt, even though he never spent the night. She knew he wasn’t looking at anyone else. She knew she was his. She knew him enough to understand he needed time to navigate their relationship. And to be frank, this was more than she had ever had. So, who was she to question his intentions? At least she had him, even if it was just in the privacy of her little cottage. When out on patrol, despite him not talking to her unless they were alone, she knew he was watching, she felt as if for the first time in her life, someone had her back, even if it’s just a feeling.

Ellie knew. Maria knew. Tommy knew. They teased her about it sometimes. They knew she was Joel’s girl. That’s why they kept her company. Kept an eye on her at gatherings, knowing that the isolation she had been through made it difficult for her to make friends. Heck, even the town knew, despite the lack of PDA. She was often at the receiving end of sour looks from the single ladies of Jackson, those who had kept their eyes on Joel – the most eligible bachelor in town. The men had always paid attention to her, staring hard until they were forced to look away under the weight of Joel’s stern gaze, or, more often than not, their own wives’. Annie received death stares from those ladies for her troubles.

Joel noticed. He didn’t like it. She shouldn’t have to be on the receiving end of hatred from the ladies of Jackson, single or otherwise. So, for the first time since she arrived in Jackson exactly six months ago, he stayed. He comforted her and apologized to her. He reasoned that he was to blame for this. He should be more open about their relationship. So why don’t they have their meals together from now on? That way, people would see, and she would no longer be the sole gossip fodder. Annie agreed, looking forward to belonging for once.

The next morning, they walked to the mess hall together, her hand entwined in his. They picked up Ellie on the way and were soon joined by Tommy and Maria. Along the way, they chatted, Ellie reading silly jokes from her pun book. Annie had never felt so happy. She was part of a group. She had people. These people chose her. Joel’s hand never left hers. The group received looks from the townsfolk, But Annie found that when in a group, the looks were not suffocating. It made her feel good, in fact. She thought she even saw some smiles thrown her way. For the first time in her life, Annie felt content. She will be alright. She was cared about.

As they were approaching the mess hall, a commotion at the gate drew their attention to it. The gate was opened quickly, and a woman walked in. She looked worse for wear, her eyes searching her surroundings. Annie felt Joel and Ellie and freeze next to her.

“Tess”, Ellie said.

The next thing she knew, Ellie was running at full speed towards the woman. Tess, apparently. She collided with Tess and started sobbing, asking how? How? Annie looked at Joel for answers. He looked like he had seen a ghost. He let go of her hand, and walked over to the two who were still wrapped in each other, faces full of tears. Joel reached them, and Ellie let go. Tess and Joel stood there, staring at each other, his face still pale and in disbelief, hers, hopeful. Joel broke the tension with a bear hug. Tears falling down his face. When the hug broke, he kissed her.

He kissed her. On the lips. Passionate. Raw. Desperate.

He kissed her, right there in front of the mess hall, where half the townspeople were watching.

He kissed her.

Annie felt numb. Tommy and Maria stood there, frozen. Maria kept looking at her but was at a loss for words. Annie couldn’t move. She watched. She watched as Joel kept on kissing Tess fiercely, and the woman reciprocated just as much. When they finally broke, they were breathless, smiles all around. They grabbed Ellie and had a group hug. Tommy began to tell Annie who that woman was, but Annie already knew, finishing his sentence for him. The three turned and walked down the street, still in each other’s arms, Joel’s wrapped tightly around Tess’s waist, the other around Ellie’s shoulder.

Joel did not look at Annie.

A month went by, Tess had settled well it seemed. She stayed with Joel and Ellie. She was very popular, indeed. She was tough, but friendly. She had been around people all her life, so making friends came easy for her. She and Joel walked Ellie to school every morning, after having breakfast in the mess hall as a trio. They then spend the whole day on patrol together, coming back in time for a family dinner with Tommy and Maria. Tess’s arrival was the talk of the town. The town accepted Tess like she was the prodigal son, returned from some bad ass adventure to complete the first family of Jackson.

Annie waited for Joel to come to her. Say goodbye to her. Explain to her. But he never did. Neither did Ellie. Annie understood why Joel had to stay with Tess. He told her about his regrets after all. She was sure that if it had been her, she would have done the same. That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. She didn’t need an apology. But a goodbye would have been nice. A closure of sorts, and then perhaps they could go back to being her people. But that never came. Tommy gave her some awkward smiles every now and again. Maria was the only one who talked to her often, but it was mostly at the library or the warehouse, mostly about work. One day, as Annie was giving Maria the weekly report on the stationery stock at the warehouse, her words stopped. Maria went to the window to see what she was looking at. Joel, Tess and Ellie, walking side by side, arms around each other as usual, laughing at something Ellie said. Annie’s heart felt heavy. Maria put her hand on her shoulder, a look of sympathy on her face.

“Please understand, they are a family”, she said.

Annie didn’t answer. Maria went on to explain that they had history, a connection from the start. How they thought she was dead, but she had magically survived. They swore to never take another moment for granted, to live their lives to the fullest. Joel and Ellie just didn’t know how to tell her, but she was sure they felt bad about it. They will come and talk to her one day, she said. She was sure of it. Just give them some time.

Annie remained quiet. She didn’t tell Maria how she waited for Joel to come. How she longed for a proper goodbye. How the women in town now sneered at her – dumped like yesterday’s garbage without so much of an explanation. She didn’t tell Maria how she received unwanted visitors now, women who berated her and threatened to kill her for their husbands’ unwanted advances on her during patrol. She didn’t tell Maria how she had started talking to herself again. She didn’t tell Maria that she was lonely. She didn’t tell Maria that she had been out with a terrible cold for almost a week, and despite her absence from her places of work, no one came to check on her. There was no use in telling her. She was alone. She will always be alone.

When another month passed and there was still no sight of Joel, Annie felt herself resenting the loneliness that quilted her. It was suffocating. It was all she could think about. She found herself in a familiar rut, except this time she had the knowledge of what it was like to have people. Being lonely when she didn’t know better was fine. But being lonely now, it was draining her quickly. And being lonely when there are people around her, especially those who she thought were her people – people who quickly decided she was not worth their forever after, or even the courtesy of a goodbye, pulling the rug of comfort from underneath her just as she began to settle on it – was unbearable.

She was on a supply run one day, on foot, along with Tommy, Maria, Joel and Tess. Maria thought bringing her along would be good, since they had planned to check out a nearby library for books for the school. She had to watch as Joel and Tess walked side by side, comfortable with each other, talking and laughing quietly among themselves, neither sparing her a look. Tommy and Maria were the same, save for some pitiful looks from Maria, and some very uncomfortable glances from Tommy. When the clickers came, the two couples moved in sync with their partners. Each having an eye out for the other. Having each other’s backs.

Annie was on her own. No one was there to watch her back, despite being in a group. While she was perfectly capable of taking care of the clickers herself, she couldn’t help but envy Tess when Joel pulled the last clicker off of her and finished it brutally before turning to her and checking for bites and injuries, a worried look on his face. She turned around, maybe to give them privacy, or maybe because she couldn’t handle the way her heart clenched at the sight. It didn’t help. In her new line of sight, Tommy was checking on Maria, just as Joel was on Tess. Annie felt blood trickling from her nose, an unfortunate consequence of falling on her face when she was surprised at the beginning of the attack, but no one was checking on her. So, she walked a little further to a small creek, wanting to wash her face off the blood that had now started to gush rather than trickle.

But a series of clicking made her stop in her tracks. She turned to see a clicker not 10 yards away from her, unaware of her presence thanks to the bubbling sounds coming from the water. She saw Joel in her periphery, quickly warning him to stay silent. Noticing the clicker, he raised his gun, only to realize he was out of bullets. Annie raised her own gun, one bullet left in the chambers. Tess appeared out of nowhere, her feet snapping a twig on the ground. The clicker reacted, ready to attack her. Tess was frozen in place. Annie fired at the clicker, hitting its shoulder. It turned and flew at her, landing right on top of her, mauling her shoulder and neck before another gunshot rang and the clicker fell off her.

Annie couldn’t move. Couldn't breathe properly. She could feel the cordyceps travelling through her bloodstream, the sound of the stream somehow muted by a loud gurgle in her ear, loud and frothy. Tess had shot the clicker. Tess had tried to save her. Suddenly she realized she didn’t feel scared. She looked at the sky, her mind going through the seven months of her 39 years on this earth where she had people. When she belonged. Happy. And now, as she was leaving, she didn’t feel that alone.

Joel and Tess came into view, the gun in her hand still smoking. Tommy and Maria came running, guns ready. None of them said anything once they saw the bloody bites on her neck and shoulder. Annie looked at Tommy, who turned the other way. Maria looked at her, a small smile on her lips, eyes full of attempted comfort. Tess looked… sorry? But she looked away too quickly for Annie to be sure. Annie focused her sight on Joel. She didn’t try to get up. She couldn’t read the expression on his face. But as he took Tess’s gun from her hands, Annie thought, or maybe hoped, she saw something resembling a glimmer of regret? Sadness even?

When he aimed the gun at her head, she saw for sure that he had tears in his eyes, before he closed them, turned his head the other way, and pulled the trigger.

Loneliness turned into nothingness.

JOEL

Joel stopped moving. Something in his periphery seemed suspicious. When Tommy reached his side, Joel stopped him. They had just walked this path yesterday. Joel was sure that the lump he and Tommy were looking at right now was not there then. They decided to approach, cautiously creeping towards it, guns out and ready. The lump was mostly covered by snow, but the grey and black cloth sticking out here and there caught his attention. Tommy went closer, Joel watching his back in case anything happened. There was nothing on the route, usually flat and clear from their patrol trails, except this lump.

When Tommy cursed and told him it was a person, Joel told him to make sure they were unarmed, or not dangerous. Tommy poked and prodded lightly at the person, and actually thought they were dead. When they pulled the jacket that was covering the person, Joel saw what he thought was a young girl. She was practically blue, and looked so emaciated, as if she hadn’t had anything to eat in weeks. Tommy dropped to his knees beside her, took his gloves off and checked her pulse. He couldn’t feel any. Rather than just move her, they decided to bury her, just for the humanity of it all. As Joel lifted her slightly frozen body, she moved, and a small whimper escaped her.

Joel almost dropped her from the shock.

They immediately decided they should take her back to Jackson. Joel had her laid against him on his horse, his heart clenching at how light she was, how weak, unable to sit by herself without support on the horse. Tommy ended up having to pass her to him like a parcel for both of them to be on the horse. Joel’s heart wept throughout the two hours journey, for she was constantly, weakly crying from the pain that the horse’s movements caused her, her bones too brittle, her muscles too weak and out of use to respond. She ended up spending her first ten days at the infirmary mostly sleeping, only waking long enough to eat the small amounts of food that her shrunken stomach could take several times a day, IV drips continuously rehydrating her poor worn body.

Joel found himself unable to stay away. His thoughts were always on her. Had she been alone? Was she captured? Did someone torture her? Will she be alright? He spent his free time at her bedside, but slipped away whenever she stirred, worried that his presence might scare her. If she had been tortured, having a big, unfamiliar man such as himself next to her bed might be traumatizing, and he didn’t want that for her.

Ellie came to keep him company sometimes, curious as to why Joel had taken such an interest on this new person. The truth was, he didn’t even have an answer for that. Was it because he felt responsible? Maybe he didn’t want someone else to die on his watch? Maybe because he saw Sarah, Ellie, or even Tess in this person? As the days passed, the new patient’s face grew fuller, her body cleaner and slowly filling up, and it became apparent that she was attractive. Ellie started teasing him – ooh… no wonder you wanted her here, Mister Joel we-cannot-trust-people Miller, complete with a mockery of his voice. Joel rolled his eyes and gave her a stern look, but wondered if the little precocious girl was right.

When she was strong enough, Maria asked the woman a few questions. They learned that she had been alone, only joining groups whenever she ran into one, but often left alone again. They learned that the isolation meant she had no idea how much time had passed since the world ended. They learned that she had just turned 18 when the outbreak happened, although she certainly did not look 38. They learned that her name, was Annie.

When Annie was released from the infirmary, Joel took it upon himself to make sure she was doing all right. He made sure Maria housed her in a small cottage at the end of the town, not far from his own place. He and Tommy went by every day for a week, fixing whatever needed fixing and making the place livable. Ellie and Maria sent supplies – blankets, clothing, toiletries, even basic grocery needs – so she could start her new life in Jackson.

Joel watched Annie from afar that first week. He saw that she went to the mess hall for breakfast in the mornings, spent a better part of her day working at the library before spending some time helping out at the storage warehouse. She kept to herself, though. She ate alone, worked alone, and went home alone. Joel felt like a creep for watching her like this, but for some reason he couldn’t bear to tear himself apart from her. He needed to know how she was doing. So, he sent Ellie, Tommy and Maria her way, making sure she had everything she needed. Ellie had even taken to visiting her at work after school just to keep her company. It made his heart swell with pride, his little girl being so considerate of Annie.

For his part, Joel did not approach her still. Instead, he went around to her little cottage and made sure she had what she needed. He chopped wood for her. Fixed her squeaky doors and windows for her. Once, he had fallen through the rotten step on her front porch as he was trying to place firewood on it. He fixed it before she came home.

Since he settled in Jackson not six months ago, Joel had never been aware of the looks he received from the ladies. He was basically their eye candy. When Tommy brought this to his attention, he dismissed the idea. Twenty something young ladies swooning over an old man like him indeed, what a ridiculous notion. What he did not realize was that this was true. They would find any excuse to talk to him. Every time he went to the shops for groceries, the ladies managing them would slip in extras for him, supposedly because he had a young charge to feed, and growing little girls need nourishment. He didn’t need the extra fruit and bread and the likes, the usual supply more than enough for him and Ellie. So, he began dropping off the extras to Annie, knowing that she was still too shy and uncomfortable to go to the shops to get her own. He took the opportunity to find her around town to give them to her, or sometimes passed them to Ellie to make sure she got them.

Whenever Joel went on supply runs, Joel looked out for things Annie would need. A warm winter jacket, gloves, scarves, anything at all. There was a mall near-ish to Jackson the patrol visited a lot. Usually, Joel would just collect what he could and send them straight to the warehouse after. But these days, he would select things that he thought would suit Annie the most, and then gave them to her by hand while at the warehouse. Joel also found himself lingering after his job was done, waiting for Annie to finish her work, and pretended like he just happened to be there when she was leaving. He would just relieve her of whatever she was carrying, and silently walked next to her all the way to her little cottage. When they arrived, he would just deposit the items on her porch, and quietly left.

Joel could not understand it, but he needed to be near Annie. Needed to get to know her better. And despite their encounters always lacking conversation, he was comfortable with her. She made him feel at ease. So, he began asking her small talk questions. And she, in turn, politely nodded, or shook her head in response. Joel found that he didn’t mind. And anytime she smiled at something he said, he could’ve sworn he was floating on air. Over time, Joel and Annie became closer. They would exchange life stories. And Joel, the most private, grumpy, emotionally unavailable person he knew, shared his most intimate stories with her. He told her about Sarah. He told her what he attempted to do upon her death. He told her how hollow he was, how emotionless, how depressed. He shocked himself at this, he had never told anyone about this, not even Tess or Ellie – not directly anyways, and certainly not a few weeks after meeting them, with barely enough words spoken to each other. They had both found out about Sarah through Tommy and Maria respectively. Tommy told Tess about his failed attempt for his life, and he only told Ellie about it to try to make her understand how much she had given him hope. Heck, if Tommy wasn’t there with him during those times, he might not even have told him, his own brother.

He told her about Tess, his regrets about how his relationship with her turned out. He saw Tess as someone to survive with. Someone he could scratch an itch with, cared for, looked out for, but never someone he had deep feelings for. A partner, a business one, with the added benefit. When she died, he felt as if he had used her, knowing that she felt more for him than he did for her, and the guilt made him wonder if he really did just see her as such, or if things would have turned out different had he just allowed himself to love. He had dreams when he first arrived in Jackson, he said, of him, Tess and Ellie settling down as a family. He always woke up convinced he had screwed up, that he was indeed in love with Tess, but it was all too late. He told her that despite his regret, he wasn’t sure if he would ever risk having such attachments to anyone ever again, his fear of losing them and down spiraling again too great a cost for his already fragile mind and heart. But then Ellie managed to somehow make him let his guard down, and now that he was safe in Jackson, with Ellie, Tommy and Maria, he wondered if he could risk his heart again. Perhaps let someone else in.

Joel told her a lot of things he never thought he would tell anyone. He was just very… comfortable with her. In return, Annie told him about her life on the road, about the groups she had joined, those who used her for sex, who left her when she was no longer needed. Those who treated her like trash just because their men looked her way. How she had no one to talk to, except herself. How she gave up, and resigned herself to dying alone, just as she had lived, when Joel and Tommy found her. Joel’s heart ached at her life story. Annie seemed unaware how unconventional her life was – she had grown so accustomed to being alone, being treated badly, that she didn’t see the wrong in those people she had met. To her, that was all just another day.

When he tried to kiss her for the first time, Annie admitted to not knowing what to do, or how to reciprocate. The other men had never done so. It was always a quick in an out, mostly for fear of their partners knowing, her legs spread open while she was sleeping and a hand over her mouth to stop her from screaming, or a quick bend over against whatever was out of the line of sight of the group they were with, again, with a hand over her mouth.

Joel bristled at this. So, he patiently, with her consent, showed her what sex could be like. He was gentle, considerate, and giving. Joel explored her. Touched her. Felt her. Caressed her. All he wanted was for her to feel cherished, so that she didn’t feel like being used for sex. Cared for. Mattered. Important. And most importantly, sated. He didn’t stay, but he made sure to always come back, and not just for sex. He didn’t want her to think that was all he wanted from her. He made sure the sex remained intimate. Special. Eventually, he would hold her close after, and they would talk about nothing and everything. He still did not stay the night. He had Ellie to think about, he told her. She understood.

Despite their rendezvous turning sexual, Joel kept it private. He still walked her to and from work daily, but he never showed her affection in public. Never sat for meals with her at the mess hall. Never sat with her during movie nights. Never danced with her at parties or gatherings. Behind closed doors, he could not keep his hands off her. But in public, he only watches her from afar, content with allowing Ellie, Tommy and Maria to entertain her and keep her company. Joel noticed that as time passed, Annie opened up more, laughed more, communicated more, got out more. His heart grew in size seeing her so happy. He wanted to be near her, wanted to shout about their relationships from the rooftop, but he wanted to protect her. Gossip in a small town such as Jackson can be debilitating, and with her looking so much younger than her actual age, Joel didn’t want her to be the target of gossipmongers, that young lady with a creepy old man. So, he kept his distance, in public anyway.

What Joel didn’t know was that the whole town already knew. In fact, his lack of public acknowledgement of this relationship made her a walking target. His fan club called her a hussy, opening her legs for scraps from Joel when he didn’t even want to be seen in public with her, despite the fact he was seen with her daily. The men leered and stared at her, and their partners hated her, blamed her for their partners’ wandering eyes. When he found out, he kicked himself for keeping her at an arms-length, his decision making her more of a target than she would have been if he had just been more open. So, for the first time since she arrived in Jackson exactly six months ago, he stayed over. He held her, comforted her and apologized to her. He suggested they sit for their meals together from now on. That way, the single ladies would see that he wanted her to be with him, that she wasn’t in some one-sided delusional sexual arrangement with him, the men would know to back off her, and their partners would stop blaming her for their husbands or boyfriends’ roving eyes and filthy thoughts.

The next morning, they walked to the mess hall together, her hand entwined in his. They picked up Ellie on the way and were soon joined by Tommy and Maria. Along the way, they chatted, Ellie reading silly jokes from her pun book. Joel was happy to see how happy Annie was. She laughed at Ellie’s stupid pun book jokes, chatted freely with Maria and Tommy, and cuddled up to him like it was the most natural thing to do. Joel thought to himself, this was it. He was finally happy. Settled. Content. As they were approaching the mess hall, a commotion at the gate drew their attention. The gate was opened quickly, and a woman walked in. She looked worse for wear, her eyes searching her surroundings.

Joel froze.

“Tess”, Ellie said.

Ellie ran full speed towards Tess, colliding with her, hugging her tight and started sobbing, asking how? How?

Joel felt his insides freeze. Time ceased to exist. Tess was dead. She died. In Boston. She got bitten, and sacrificed herself so that he and Ellie could escape. How could she be here? But Ellie was hugging her. And she was hugging Ellie back, so it couldn’t be his imagination, could it? His entire body just moved without his control. It was as if he was in a fantasy world, one where he visited almost every night those first few months he and Ellie arrived in Jackson, sleeping safe and sound in their beds at night, where Tess was alive, and he got to do everything he wished he had done before she died. The one where he had allowed himself the possibility of love, where they were a family, and everyone was alright. His feet just moved him towards the two. He held out his hand and touched her face tentatively. Part of her face and neck were scarred, burnt, most likely, but it was Tess. It was definitely her.

“Hi Joel”, she said, her eyes full of hope that he would recognize her, and happy to see her there.

This must be a dream. Surely, he was dreaming. He was touching her. If this was a dream, this was the realest dream he had ever had. He hugged her. Her scent overwhelmed him, it was so familiar, so real, yet so surreal. He thought of the last time they saw each other, how she was screaming at him to leave, how she wouldn’t let him near her, how he wished they could have one last kiss.

So, he kissed her. He poured all his regret and guilt into that kiss. He forgot where he was, he had forgotten since he saw her. All he could think of was Tess, and that she was here, and that she was alive, in his arms, kissing him. He can make things right. Everything he had spent months of sleepless nights thinking and dreaming about could come true now. He was high on that dream. Tess was back. When he broke the kiss, he looked at Tess and Ellie’s faces, both wet from tears, and knew his own was too. He pulled them both into a hug and turned around to bring them home.

The moment he got Tess showered and fed, the three of them sat in the living room, all curled up together. She told them how her sleeve caught fire during the chaos, and out of fear and pure panic, she ran out, frantically trying to put out the fire licking at her arm, neck, and parts of her face. She was thrown away from the building when the blast happened, and woke up the next day, burns all over her. She realized that she hadn’t turned, and that the fire must have burnt her infection off. Her injuries made it slower to move, but eventually she got to Frank and Bills, and spent some months alone, recuperating with the supplies they had before making her way to Jackson.

When they had sex that night, Joel thought to himself, this was a good dream. This could not be real. So, he savored it, letting Tess bounce on him as usual, making up for lost time, before they both fell asleep content, Joel wishing he would never wake up from this dream.

Except he did wake up. The next morning. And Tess was still there sleeping soundly. Joel felt as if something was not right. What was it? Hearing Ellie’s alarm clock down the hall snapped him out of his wondering. He got dressed, careful not to wake Tess, and went downstairs to prepare something for Ellie. She came down, sat in front of him, looked at him with hesitant eyes and asked:

“So, what are you going to do about Annie?”

Shit. This was not a dream. This was real.

Fuck. Annie.

Joel’s insides froze. Annie. He was with Annie. He was holding her hand when he saw Tess. And he let go… to kiss Tess full on the lips… in front of Annie. And then he just… left her there.

Fuck.

Joel knew immediately how much he had fucked up.

He needed to go to Annie. He had to explain.

But explain what exactly?

‘Hi baby, I’m sorry I let go of your hand, but I was out of my fucking head cause I thought I was seeing a ghost and then when it turned out she wasn’t one I kissed her full on in front of you cause I was glad she was alive, left you there, and then cheated on you’????

Doesn’t seem like the best excuse. Ellie was still staring at him, expecting an answer. His mind was blank. There was nothing he could think of that would excuse his appalling behavior.

“Dude, you need to tell her something. Are you breaking up with her? Or are you telling Tess about her? But you need to do something. Figure out what you want,” she said. As if he didn’t know that. Although annoyed that he was being schooled by a 15-year-old, he couldn’t help but feel ashamed of himself.

As he walked Ellie to school that morning, she told him what she thought of this situation. She thought Joel would be much happier with Annie. Annie was the person he chose, not the person he happened to work well with out of some desperate situation, regardless of how long he had known the ladies. Although she was glad Tess survived and was in Jackson with them, she didn’t think Tess was what he needed. Annie brought softness in him, calmness. His nightmares stopped after Annie came into his life. And while she didn’t know Tess for long, she doubted that Tess brought those things out of Joel. But of course, it’s his decision. But he needed to make one. Walking home from school, he was joined by Tommy and Maria, who, annoyingly, parroted the same sentiment Ellie did.

They had a point. He was a changed man with Annie, for the better, and everyone could clearly see it. She calmed him, soothed him. When they were on the road with Tess, his sleep was interrupted with nightmares of Sarah. When he thought Tess died, they began to intersperse with visions of Tess burning and telling him she loved him. When they got to Jackson, that changed into the fairytale happy family which nightmarish quality was crudely brought to reality every time he woke up, leaving him in doubts and guilt, every time.

Those nightmares stopped completely when he met Annie. Those of Sarah, of Tess. No more nightmares. Rested. Only deep, peaceful sleep, even when she was not in his arms at night. He liked this new version of himself. He needed to tell Tess the truth before going to Annie to beg for her forgiveness. When he got home, Tess was waiting for him. Her hopeful face lit up when she saw him. As they were drinking their morning coffee, Joel braced himself to tell her about Annie. But Tess spoke first.

“I hope you won’t be too turned off by these”, she said, gesturing at the visible burn marks on her face, neck and shoulder. “I cannot believe Jackson is real. I am aware that you and Ellie have your own lives now, but I guess we can give being a normal couple a shot now, huh? A real shot at happiness? Be a family? The three of us?”

Joel was tongue-tied. The guilt that haunted him before came rushing back, despite the logic that filled his heart moments ago. He had often wondered what his true feelings for her were, and now he had the chance to find out. Shouldn’t he give it a shot so he would know once and for all and be done with it? Annie would understand, he just needed to tell her, and explain everything. After all, she was aware of his feelings and unresolved questions regarding Tess.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s give it a shot”.

The smile that lit up Tess’s face made him think he had made the right choice.

When Ellie came home from school and learnt of the decision, she didn’t look too pleased, but hugged Tess anyway. Joel thought he saw the smile on Tess’s face faltered, only to be turned back on. When Tess went to shower, Ellie asked him what about Annie? Joel explained his side of the decision, promising to tell Annie about it. Ellie shook her head disappointingly but hugged him in support anyway. Tommy and Maria did not look too pleased when Tess told them the news either, but smiled and hugged her, welcoming her to the family anyway. Like Ellie, they quietly warned Joel to talk to Annie. To not abandon her fully. Joel was starting to get exasperated by all this meddling, talking to him as if he was a child who needed reminding.

That evening, while Maria was showing Tess around town, Joel went to the warehouse to talk to Annie. But as he was approaching the door, Maria and Tess were on their way out, and he saw Annie inside, head down, looking forlorn, trying to be strong, having been introduced to Tess face to face for the first time. The look on her face hurt him. He was the cause of that. Gone was the smile that had only begun to grace that face these few weeks ago, a slight downturn of the quivering lips replaced it, as if to stop herself from crying. Tess hugged him tight, thinking he was there to walk her home, and gave him a kiss. When he looked through the window, all he saw was Annie rushing away, looking as if she was crying.

Tomorrow, he thought. He will find her tomorrow. He had to talk to her. He must.

But during those few weeks, Tess did not leave Joel alone at all. She was with him wherever he went, some parts of the bodies always connected, at her insistence. It was as if she was nervous that she would be turned away, chased out of Jackson if she wasn’t with him, or that he would float away from her. She insisted that being with him was the only way the town would accept her quickly, because she was with Joel Miller. He couldn’t get away. He contemplated telling her about Annie just so he could go see her, but Tess’s newfound insecurity about the burns on her body made him think that she would not take him having a new and stunningly beautiful girlfriend when he thought she was dead well.

A month in, he found Ellie standing in front of the warehouse, looking as if she was contemplating going in, Annie inside, talking to Maria while perusing a ledger of sorts. Joel wanted so badly to go in, but Tess was just behind him, and Joel led Ellie away from the warehouse. As they were walking away, Joel’s hand was on Ellie’s stiff shoulder, walking a few steps ahead from Tess. She caught up with them, and quickly took his other hand and placed it on her hip. She asked Ellie what she was doing in front of the warehouse, and the teenager answered with some horrifically bad joke about looking for rats to feed some younger kids as a prank, laughing uncomfortably while doing so. Tess laughed out loud, and though Joel could tell Ellie was lying, he gave a small laugh anyway. When they got home, Ellie pulled Joel into the backyard, telling him that he needed to speak to Annie soon, as she couldn’t bear to see how sad and alone she was. Even Tommy and Maria couldn’t bear to talk to her about this, afraid that they might say the wrong thing. Plus, this was Joel’s mess to clean up, not theirs. It was not their place. It had to be him, as if he didn’t already know that.

What Joel didn’t tell anyone was, his nightmares were back. But this time, it was just Sarah, standing in a fenced yard, looking at him sadly. Try as he might, he could not get over the fence. As the weeks went by, she looked sadder and sadder, and over time, her sad expressions turned into disappointment. Joel always woke up feeling like an asshole, a coward, a failure. And he knew exactly why. He knew he had to come clean, but Tess being so vulnerable and self-conscious right now, he needed to be alone to talk to Annie. But try as he might, Tess was not ready to go solo in her day-to-day business. Every time he tried to even suggest she went off on her own, to be independent, she found some excuse not to do it. Joel was stuck. Every time he saw Annie in town, his heart lurched. She was looking tired, like she had lost some weight and lacked a good night’s rest. She was always alone. Walking or eating with her head down. Joel wanted so badly to go to her, but with Tess there, he had to be careful. They were giving being a couple a shot, so the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Tess, but at the same time, he desperately wanted to talk to Annie, to make her smile again. Heck, he would take her wrath at full blast, would accept her never talking to him again, even a beating or two if it meant she wouldn’t be sad anymore.

At this thought, Joel was starting to resent Tess’s separation anxiety, and was beginning to see the consequences of his actions. Ellie had stopped talking to them both, resenting Joel’s cowardice, blaming his blind loyalty to Tess for it, only giving short answers when asked. Tess had chalked it to her being a moody teenager rather than ask her what she was angry about. Tommy and Maria stopped talking to them about personal things, only speaking to them when work was concerned. No more dinners together, no more double dates. All three of them making it quite clear to Joel that he was being cruel to both ladies. That he needed to sit down and reflect on what the fuck he was doing. To stop letting guilt eat him up. Tess was alive. She didn’t die, so all the guilt he felt that led to him going along with her needs shouldn’t conquer him anymore. That his indecisiveness and cowardice were making the three of them the bad guys as well. So, make his mind up already, for fuck’s sake.

That was when Joel really thought of things. After being with Tess for two months in a domestic setting that they could only dream of pre-Jackson, he didn’t feel any different to what he did before. He began to realize that even in an ideal setting such as this, he was never going to see Tess as a life partner.

Personality wise, Tess was strong and dominant, immovable, never taking any nonsense from anyone, and had a grit to her attitude that made people listen. That was why they were so successful back in Boston. She was the mastermind; he was the muscle. They worked well together because of that. But despite caring about her a lot back then, he was never in love with her. Even now, Tess made the decisions in the house. She decided everything, what they eat, which shifts to take, where they go, who they should be friends with. She was determined to make this relationship she had wished they had back in Boston a success, to be seen and known as a couple. To be a real couple. Any time Joel tried to suggest something, she managed to steer him her way, and his guilt-riddled mind would cave.

Being physical with Tess felt… forced. She initiated them. Whether at home or in public, she took his hand to hold, to wrap around her. It was always her who kissed him, and never the other way around. And somehow, these touches felt wrong in his hands. Despite knowing her for so long, holding her hand and having his arm around her waist just felt odd. Awkward. Their arrangement in Boston didn’t lead to those things. Sex still felt like scratching an itch, an act, he realized, he had never initiated since her arrival in Jackson. She would just climb on top of him, get him ready and take and take and take. Despite participating in the most intimate experience two humans can possibly partake in, there was no physical contact apart from the obvious. There was no intimacy. No connection. It was more of a race to orgasms. That kiss they shared upon her arrival was as intimate as they had ever gotten. After, they would just go to sleep. She would spoon him sometimes, but he never felt the need or desire to do that to her. There was never any pillow talk, no heart to heart, no talking about their innermost desires.

Annie, on the other hand, was the complete opposite of Tess. She was soft and submissive, but not necessarily weak. Being alone all those years made her tough and decisive when making choices for herself, but since joining Jackson she was more considerate of others, having realized that she needed to change slightly, now that she was no longer the only person that mattered, that she lived in a society, in a relationship, in fact. Any decision they made as a couple was always made together, and she had never forced her ideas and preferences on Joel, choosing instead to let him move at his own pace, content with what he had been willing to give her. Even now, when he had selfishly distanced himself from her, not once had she forced her presence on him and his family, despite how sad it obviously made her.

Physically, there was no comparison. Their connection was instant, Joel immediately comforted by her mere presence. Joel had never felt the intimacy they had with each other with anyone else. Not even Sarah’s mother, certainly not with Tess. Sex was not sex. It was making love. An equal need, often initiated together, spontaneously, both wanting to please each other, both giving and taking. And before Tess’s arrival, he found himself desperate to hold her after, enjoying the feeling of her body against his, both of them unburdening themselves of their innermost thoughts and insecurities with each other. Her hand in his felt right, as if her hand was what was missing from his own. His hand on her hips or around her waist and shoulder felt like they belong there. Every touch fitting perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle.

The thing that Joel realized was that it was not Tess’s fault. She had not changed. She was the same person she was during their smuggling days. The only difference was that they no longer had to struggle to survive from day to day. They had a nice house, all the amenities they needed, all the food they could eat. And still Joel felt that she was the one making the effort to make this relationship work, as staccato and routine as the relationship was. It was as if she wanted this more than he did. Which was how it had always been. Nothing had changed. Whilst he did love her, he realized now, for certain, that he was not in love with her. She was someone he worked with, and stuck with out of familiarity and need, a mutually beneficial relationship, but it was never love, at least not for him. He had let his guilt take over and ran his life with it.

Whereas Annie was someone he instantly connected with. Maybe it was savior complex, but he was pulled to her from the start, even when she was near death on that track, almost completely covered in snow. Their relationship was not one of convenience. He chose to begin one with her, making the effort to get to know her better, and kept on working to move forward in the relationship, taking small steps to bigger things each time. He opened up to her. And he knew for certain that he would have told her about the new nightmare that was plaguing him. He knew he was in love with her.

Joel kicked himself upon this realization. He was in love with Annie. Not Tess. It was never Tess. He needed to tell Annie, and even if she decided he was no longer worth her time, even if she hated him with all her being, he would respect that. But he could no longer live in this delusion he had stupidly created for himself.

That night, he told Tess that this domestic dream of theirs was not going to work. That they should go back to being friends. Tess looked disappointed but seemed to pull herself together. They gave it a shot, and obviously, his feelings hadn’t changed. She asked if there was someone else. He was truthful, saying that he was with someone when she came back into his life, and that he hurt her when he decided to give the relationship a go. But when Tess asked who the person was, he chose to keep quiet. They decided that he would sleep on the couch until Maria could arrange for another house for Tess, and that they would respect each other enough to remain friends and keep working together if needs must.

The next day, Tess acted no different than usual, no resentment, no tantrums, no emotional breakdowns. They were due to go on a supply run with Tommy and Maria. Joel planned to talk to them both then, about the separation and the need to find Tess another place to settle in. He told Ellie his decision over breakfast, the teenager barely able to contain her elation at the news. It was not that she didn’t like Tess. She just wanted Joel to be happy, and he was much happier and more relaxed when he was with Annie. Joel decided to drop by the warehouse after the run, and walk Annie home, just like he did all those months ago, beg for her forgiveness, and hope for the best.

But when they got to the gate, Annie was there, armed, and ready to go on the run with them. Maria quickly pulled Joel aside and explained the purpose of the trip, and as the person in charge of the library, her eyes would be useful for this run. Resigned, Joel decided to delay his news until they get back – he didn’t want to hurt Tess’s feelings further by announcing their separation in the presence of the woman he was leaving her for. He owed her that much.

They walked at a distance from each other, Tommy and Maria up front, Annie in the middle, and Joel and Tess at the rear, eyes forward, occasionally turning around to watch their surroundings. This was the longest Joel had been in Annie’s presence in the two months they had been separated, and it seemed, as hard as he tried, he could not help himself from looking at her, wishing she would turn around to see her face.

“It’s her, isn’t it? The woman you are in love with?” Tess asked.

Joel couldn’t answer. As much as he wanted to admit to it, he didn’t want Tess to know like this. So, he kept quiet. But his silence was all the answer Tess needed.

“She’s very pretty. Is she nice to Ellie?” she pressed.

Again, Joel kept quiet.

“It’s okay Miller. I get it,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” Joel offered.

“It’s okay Joel. We’ll still be friends. You cannot get rid of me that easily. I came back from the dead, you know?” she joked with a mischievous look on her face.

They both laughed softly, not wanting to make much noise. Joel felt lighter. Somehow, Tess being in the know made it better. Made him hopeful that this would be alright. But for now, he would walk alongside Tess, and do his job.

When the clickers came, their years of fighting off clickers together came into play. It was muscle memory. Working as a duo instead of individually. Every now and again, Joel would look for Annie. She seemed to be doing fine, killing it, in fact, literally. Her moves were practiced and practical, efficiently fending off clicker after clicker, before disposing them with a single gunshot. His attention was pulled back to Tess, a clicker had managed to get on top of her, Tess struggling to fight it off. No, Joel thought. He was not going to let this happen again, no matter what happened between them. He rushed over, pulled the clicker off her, and shot it. He pulled Tess up, and checked her for bites, a force of habit now, ever since he missed the bite she took back in Boston.

Satisfied that she was alright, he looked for Annie, wanting to check on her. He saw her, just disappearing behind some trees. He was quick to follow, ignoring Tess’s calls behind him, silently checking that Tommy and Maria were doing alright on his way. As he turned the corner, he saw her, face bloodied from a nosebleed, standing stock still facing something he couldn’t see. She saw him and put a finger to her lips. Joel raised his gun, aware that there must be a clicker around, its hearing tampered by the sounds coming from the stream. He moved quietly further up and saw the clicker. He pulled the trigger, but nothing but a small click came. He had run out of bullets.

As he was frantically trying to think of how to get Annie to safety without alerting the creature, Tess came into sight, realizing too late the clicker’s presence, and her foot fell heavily on a large twig. The clicker turned to her and snarled, stance at the ready to attack. Tess didn’t move, seemingly frozen to the spot, gun in hand not even raised to shoot. The clicker began to make its move, but before it could, a gunshot rang, and the clicker changed direction.

Towards Annie.

Joel felt as if everything slowed down. Annie took a step back and fell, the clicker getting nearer and nearer. Joel started running towards her, and saw Tess snap out of her trance, raising her gun, aiming at the clicker. Joel thought he saw the clicker bite Annie on the shoulder, eliciting a scream from her. It’s okay, he thought. Tess’s infections burnt off. Maybe they could try that. Tess will shoot the clicker. Everything will be alright.

But no shots came. He saw Tess hesitate. She fucking hesitated. In all the years he had known her, Tess had never hesitated with a shot. The clicker was fully on Annie now. She was using all her might to fend it off. Joel heard her scream.

A blood curdling, full-bodied scream. And then silence, save for the snarling of the clicker.

Joel reached Tess’s side. He snatched the gun away from her, aimed and shot. The clicker fell off Annie, who was now no longer moving. He stared at Tess, who couldn’t meet his eyes. He tossed the gun back at her, before going to Annie, kneeling beside her, refraining from gathering her in his arms.

His heart sank.

***graphic descriptions of injuries and killing below *** -------------------------------------------------------------

She was not only bitten, she was mauled. Chunks of flesh missing from her neck and shoulder, blood gushing from the wide-open artery on her neck. No amount of fire can help her, not without killing her. Joel held her limp hand. It was cold. Too cold.

“Annie, baby? It’s me. Look at me baby. I’m right here. I’m here baby. Please look at me. I love you. Please forgive me. I love you, Annie. I am so in love with you. Please baby. Look at me. Hang on for me okay”, he pleaded, tears pouring down his face.

Annie did not respond. It was as if she couldn’t hear him. Her breathing was ragged, frothy, gurgled - each stricken breath pumping more blood out of her neck.

Tommy and Maria arrived, both in disbelief at what they came to face. Joel kept pleading for Annie to look at him, but to no avail. Her eyes focused on the sky. She didn’t look scared. In fact, she seemed at peace. As if she knew this was it. Joel held her jaw, careful not to move her, and she seemed to come out of a trance, eyes looking at Tommy, and then Maria, and then Tess. Tommy turned around. Tears wet on his cheeks. Maria struggled with her own tears, trying hard not to scare Annie. And Tess… Tess looked… guilty.

Joel saw her beautiful brown eyes turning cloudy. The hand he was holding now starting to twitch. The infection was coming and coming fast. He had to end this. He squeezed her hand, leaned in and whispered that he loved her one more time, that he was sorry, and kissed her temple. Not that it helped. Her eyes were still looking around, searching. He stood up, his chest heavy with regret, already mourning the inevitable. He took the gun out of Tess’s hand. And that’s when he saw Annie’s eyes finally fixed on him. The eyes that he had missed so much, but had stupidly avoided these last couple of months, because he was too cowardly, too in his own head with his own dilemmas and indecisiveness to face them. And now that he had finally made up his mind, ready to forge a life of happiness with them, those eyes were closing for good. He had to do it. Before those eyes turn into the red, cold, snarling ones of the enemy. He had to do it, so he could remember her like this.

And so, with her beautiful eyes fixed on him, he tearfully looked at them one last time, and took his aim. But the life of him, he found that he could not do it. So reluctantly, he closed his eyes, turned his head the other way, and pulled the trigger.

AFTERMATH

The walk back to Jackson was uncomfortably silent. Joel walked alone up front, not wanting to be with anyone. Tommy had his arms around Maria, who was quietly sobbing. Tess in the rear, her face unreadable.

Joel buried Annie by the river, not accepting help from anyone. His hands all bloody from the branches he used to dig a shallow grave, before picking Annie up to finish the deed. He held her close for ages, shoulders shaking with silent sobs for his lost love. He worked silently, not looking at anyone.

Behind him, Maria and Tommy were questioning Tess about what happened. When Tess told them, a strangely quiet, yet deafening whispered shouting match ensued, worried that more clickers might be nearby. Tess readily admitted she hesitated on the shot – afraid to shoot Annie by mistake. Tommy blew at her, accusing her of letting Annie die on purpose so she could have Joel to herself, Maria attempting to calm him down. Tess swore up and down it was an honest mistake. It was quite a sight.

When Joel had placed Annie in the grave, Tommy and Maria paid their respect, but when Tess attempted to do the same, Joel held her back, and asked her if she did it on purpose.

“I swear on my life Joel. No. I didn’t,” she said.

Tess squatted by the grave, and quietly said something to Annie. When she stood up, Joel looked at Annie’s beautiful face one last time, covered it with his jacket, and buried her. He placed some river rocks on her grave and left. No one said anything to him, and that was how it was all the way to Jackson.

When the gates opened, Ellie was there waiting for Joel, an eager look on her face, wondering if he had talked to Annie yet. When Annie was nowhere to be seen, she clocked the somber looks on everyone’s faces, and started panicking. She kept asking Joel where she was. Joel didn’t answer. He didn’t even stop. He kept walking. Tess and Maria held Ellie and before long she was screaming at Joel, telling him this was all his fault. He’s the reason she was dead. Tommy pulled her to him, and she crumbled, screaming that she didn’t get to say goodbye, and it was all Joel’s fault. She screamed that he was a coward, a cruel, heartless bastard for what he did to Annie.

Tess stood there, taking all this in. She had no idea this was all going on, and that these three were in the know about Joel’s relationship with Annie. Suddenly the gravity of her arrival made sense to her, and she felt like someone who was thrown into the deep end of a pool she didn’t even know existed. She ran to the house she had shared with Joel and Ellie, but Joel was not there.

Joel did not go home. Instead, he kept walking, until he was faced with the little cottage he hadn’t visited since Tess’s arrival. Annie had started a small garden. Flowers and herbs everywhere, making the cottage look idyllic, fairy-tale-like. He walked in and was immediately greeted by her scent. The cottage looked different, little touches of Annie that he was familiar with, and yet had not seen. He saw a glimpse of Annie’s solitary activities, done to fill her time in his absence. A handwoven rug here, a new painting there. Some new pottery decorated the shelves, a couple still drying by the windowsill, and a half-made scarf on her favorite armchair. He went into her bedroom. His heart sank at the sight of his flannel on her pillow. He had left it there the morning after he stayed over that day. He picked it up and brought it to his face. It smelled of her.

She must have worn it every night since he left. His scent completely gone from it, replaced by the sweet ones of hers that he missed so much. For the first time since Sarah, Joel wailed. The amount of regret he felt was unbearable. He would do anything, give anything to take it all back, to turn back time to their happy days together. He would never have let go had he known the amount of pain he would be in. He laid on her bed, surrounded himself with her, and sobbed himself to sleep.

Weeks passed. Joel hadn’t returned home. No one had seen him around Jackson. Tommy, Maria and Ellie took turns sending him food at Annie’s cottage, which remained clean and well-maintained. Joel had not sat idle. He was determined to keep her memory alive, at least for himself. But he still had not spoken to anyone. They tried, oh how they tried to talk to him, but he moved about his activities as if they were not there. Tess had tried to visit, but every time she approached, Joel went into the house and slammed the door.

At his house, Ellie had been avoiding Tess at all costs. Tommy told her what happened, and she very openly blamed Tess for Annie’s death. Neither her nor Tommy was speaking to Tess, and the rest of the town, well, the fire of gossip made it worse. She was the scorned woman who got dumped by Joel Miller and made sure he didn’t have the woman he loved to go running back to, not that they were brave enough to say that to her face. As much as they town loved to talk, Tess was still a formidable woman, and no one dared cross her. Maria, it seemed, was the only friend Tess had left, telling her to give them all some time.

It all came to a head one day when Tess tried again to speak to Joel. Tommy, Maria and Ellie were there, helping Joel tend to the small garden of herbs Annie had planted. Tommy and Ellie began yelling at her to go away. And that was when Tess lost it.

“You know, until the day she died, I wasn’t even aware of this whole drama. She was just the nice lady who worked at the library and warehouse to me. No one told me. And now she’s gone it’s all my fault?” she said, eerily calm for someone who had lost her patience.

“It is not my fault you agreed to give us a try, Joel. It’s not my fault that you were too cowardly to tell me the truth, and too fickle and fucking undecisive to follow your own heart. And you two, Tommy, Ellie. It is not my fault that you two decided to ignore her during those times. And you know what? It is not Joel’s fault either. Both of you could’ve just remained friends with her and kept her company. Heck, Maria did. And yet, you two CHOSE not to, because it would make YOU uncomfortable. And now that she’s gone and you feel guilty for treating her like shit, you want to blame ME??? Blame Joel???” she continued, her voice raised slightly.

“I am done being quiet about this. I am sorry I hesitated to take the shot, because I couldn’t bear to think that I might have killed the love of Joel Miller’s life. I replay that scene in my head all the time. Would I have done anything different knowing what I know now? Maybe. But can I do anything about it? No!!! do I feel guilty that she died as a direct result of my hesitance? Yes. I do. Okay? I lay awake at night wishing I could take it back, but I can’t. So, I have to accept that I will live with this guilt every single day of my life, but guess what? I will live with that because I own up to my mistakes. You know why? Because I am an adult. So, I am done being held accountable for what you three CHOSE to do to spare yourselves some discomfort. Take responsibility for your own actions damn it. Grow up!”

With that, Tess took a very deep breath, and very calmly turned around, and walked off. Joel walked into the cottage and shut the door. Tommy and Ellie looked as if they had been slapped across the face. They slowly put down the tools they were using and walked home.

That night, Joel had another nightmare. Annie and Sarah were sitting in that same fenced yard, having delicate sandwiches and tea, laughing and chatting freely. Their faces were so light, so calm, so happy. Joel longed to join them but couldn’t. Each time he got over a fence, another one appeared, and no matter how much he yelled at them to let them know he was there, they couldn’t hear him. He was on the outside looking in on the two people he had loved the most. The two people he had lost and grieved for. He woke up sweating, feeling their loss all over again, his heart heavy with guilt and remorse.

As the weeks went by, Tommy and Ellie kept up with their routine of visiting Joel. Both muttered their apologies to him for blaming him for their silence towards Annie. Joel didn’t respond. Tess hadn’t attempted to visit again, giving Joel some space, but Maria told Joel that Tommy and Ellie had started communicating with her again, albeit awkwardly.

One day, just as Joel shut the door behind him after a day of cleaning the yard and chopping some wood, a gentle knock on the door came. He didn’t answer, but he heard someone settle against the door. Tess’s voice came through.

“Joel, I accept if you never want to speak to me again, if you see me as the reason for your treatment of her. There is nothing I can do about that. I need you to know that I did not mean for her to go. Joel, I have always known you don’t feel the way I do. I cannot force you to love me. I just wish you would’ve told me about her. I would’ve understood. And now…” she trailed off.

“Maria told me of the old farmhouse at the end of the Jackson perimeter. I just came here to tell you that I am moving there today. I think that’s better for me, you know? The town seems friendlier now, but I feel like this is for the best. But if you ever need a friend to talk to… Even if we don’t work as a couple Joel, I will always care about you, and I hope you feel the same for me at least.”

“Joel, I know what it feels like to kill the love of your life. When my husband and son turned… I had to… so I know… you know this. Don’t let this be the reason you stop living Joel. The guilt will never go away, but if you try, perhaps one day it won’t consume you the way it does now. She’s gone. Sarah’s gone. But you are still here. Find your purpose Joel. Ellie needs you. Tommy needs you. The town needs you. So, heal Joel. And when you are even a little bit better than you are right now, join the world again. I didn’t know her apart from the small exchanges here and there, but from what I’ve been told, she seemed like a sweet person. She wouldn’t want you to live like this, I’m sure of it. Because she loved you. And you don’t want to see the people you love sad forever, Joel. Just… think about it. I’m so sorry things didn’t turn out better. But, if you need an old friend, you know where to find me.”

With a small grunt, Tess got up and left, her backpack on her shoulders.

After she left, Joel resigned himself to the fact that he would never again be as happy as he was, that his sleep would forever be plagued with Annie’s happy face that would never acknowledge him again. That his heart would never be full again. That he would be punishing himself for his cowardice forever. He knew that. Joel had made his bed in the most fucked up, cowardly, selfish and emotionless way. There was nothing for him to do, except lie in it.

*** In the small town of Jackson, there was an abandoned house, a once idyllic, fairy-tale-looking cottage at the end of the row of houses. Rumor had it, a grumpy, moody and gruff old man called Joel Miller lived his last years there, mourning the life he let slip through his fingers. Every day, Joel Miller would tend to his garden, go out on patrol, go tend to people’s houses when they need fixing, and go back to this cottage to spend the rest of his evenings sitting on his porch. Sometimes, his brother Tommy and daughter Ellie would come join him, their children in tow. Although Joel spared smiles for his nephew and grandson, the rest of the town never saw him smile. Ladies offered themselves to him, only to be rebuffed. They said that he broke a lady’s heart once, and she died before he could confess his true feelings for her.

So, Joel lived alone, with his own thoughts, living but dead inside, forever mourning for his love. And that’s the way it went for Joel Miller.

[lovinglonerhybrid]

Just had a thought transformers prime and rescue bots take place in the same universe. Now I’ve seen some interesting takes for some interesting crossovers between the two but I just had a thought. We all know knockout resident diva who fancies himself a medic

This man. now he’s known for his red paint and his desire to keep it pristine. Well in rescue bots there is one thing that the bots could use to at least distract our beloved racer

This mechanical bull that was programmed to hate the color red. Now all I can imagine is knockout running around the island and this bull chasing after him breakdowns low key trying not to laugh and starscream has lost that battle and is on the ground in hysterics. And then you know something something the power of Cody and suddenly there all friends and the war is over. Optimus got a hold of the shrink rey and is now keeping megatron wherever he stached the Energon vampire.

[dukeofthomas]

Here's my controversial opinion; if you're trying to write Bruce as a non-abusive, good parent, you should also write him respecting his kids' privacy, boundaries, and not stalking&surveying them.

[tennessoui]

it’s like baby gorl there’s no way I, the author who wrote the fic you’re commenting on and who is the intended audience for this comment, am gonna agree with you 😿🙏 some things can just stay on your chest 🙏

[justghostly-things]

Why Mike Wheeler should get Vecna'd

I might need to rant about Mike Wheeler (to like the surprise of no one.) because if it's gonna be anyone its gotta be him, right? I don't think he is gonna die, or it's gonna be the exact same as it was for Max. (Simply because we have seen it before.) but I don't think it would be beneficial to Vecna any of the other characters.

and assuming that the Duffer brothers aren't just bad writers we know Mike has been acting weird for two whole seasons now. (I personally think it was worse in season 3 but it was still strange in season 4.) The show established him a certain way in season 1 then nailed it into the coffin that this is who he is in season 2 but then season 3 rolls around and he is just... Different. (An ass) Of course, we have our theories and analysis (thank you, to anyone who have compiled all the hints into one place what would we do without you 😭This or This or This)

but still.

Since we are talking about Stranger Things S4 and S5 there are a lot of uncomfortable topics that are going to be mentioned, I do not go into details. I barely mention it. I do not describe anything, but I do talk about the themes. Please stay safe while reading

We should look at this in three ways.

What it brings to the story

What advantage would it give Vecna (aka why would he want to Vecna them)

And how does it help the character

Let's talk about Max first. Because we can work out the logic with her and then try and translate it to other characters.

I think its import for this section to know that what Max has delt with is a very scary real thing. Many children have a very similar life as Max, and all I am going to do is talk about them from within the show. I will say is you are not a bad person because you wish death on someone who is hurting you. But from here on I am talking about Max from both her Pov and Vecna's. None of these things are my thought or feeling on the greater topic of abuse and dysfunctional families.

From a story perspective why was Max the one who got Vecna'd and not like, Dustin or Lucas? If you answered because she watched Billy die. Yes. Anyone who understands a progression of a story can figure out why it makes sense for Max to be Vecna'd. We create this guy who shows you your trauma reflected back at you and then kills you as seen in both Fred (Nancy's friend) and Chrissy.

Which of the main cast of characters just went through a trauma event just the season before? Max.

I think if this is all you take from season 4 you have fundamentally forgotten one important thing about Max getting Vecna'd. It isn't just about the trauma of her watching her brother die. No, Vecna specifically targets the fact that Max deep-down wished-for Billy to die, she used to fantasize about it. It isn't just survival guilt. And we are shown this visually through Fred who also has survival guilt. Their trauma is different because Max's guilt isn't just about surviving. That is why it had to be Max. Because all of the characters could feel some sort of Survival guilt. They have watched so many people die and get hurt. it reveals two things. One is how Max truly feels about Billy's death, and two it tells us more about what Vacna is actually doing in the vision. Because he isn't just trying to torture a traumatized Max to the point that she willing to just give up. it is showing Max some "ugly truth" about her to herself. Because that is what Vecna is. Or thinks he is. He sees the world as horrible and should be corrected and the only way to do that is by "starting over". This is him showing max what is "wrong" with her and killing her (so he can start her over/create a new her)

I feel like I need to rewatch season 3 again because I can't remember exactly but I think Max most likely played a big part in season 3 where she kept meddling with Possessed Billy. (Mike did too but we will get to that(this thing is gonna be long btw)) She showed that she is willing and able to mess up Vecna's plans.

(It is kinda a debated if it was just the Mind Flayer or if it was Vecna himself that possessed Billy (and Will in season 2) but for the purpose of this we will say that he at least knows the role that Max (and Mike) played in the mall fight.)

All of this to say from Vecna's Perspective, he sees a group of kids who keep getting in the way, And they are all close to El? And one of these kids has extreme guilt about Billy? Yeah of course he targets her. It is so useful. It'll get to El and the rest of the party. Making them weaker and affect them emotionally so they are more likely to react irrationally. It's so perfect for him. Literally Max says so in the show.

and Max, (I can tell some people aren't gonna be happy with me for this so just know I love max so much please, but) she up until season 4 was a bit of a weird character. She is a confusing character. Especially in season 2, she has a lot of character inconsistencies. This video explains all of what I am talking about in this section this really well. but she isn't really a main character until season 4. She plays more of a supporting role. Especially in season 3 where she is helping El find part of independence. And yes, we know Max has a hard home life and how Billy is an ass to her. We know this but we don't really understand it until season 4. She just feels like an inconsistent character up until this point. (you know who else is an inconsistent character-) Her getting Vecna'd shows us a direct shot into her head and we can start to piece together the truth of her character. We really get to understand why she is inconsistent. And how it isn't a flaw of the writing, it's Max being 13 and dealing with a terrible home life.

the best part about it is that there are clues all over that are screaming at us and I can tell you right now that there were probably so many children who saw themself in Max. And people who were screaming about how this is why! It's because of her home life! while the rest of us were just calling it inconsistent writing. And yes, I am gonna bring it up because this is exactly what we see with Mike Wheelers character. Because the truth is that we haven't seen the whole story, we have barely seen anything of Mike for the last two seasons. (mentally i know he is on screen I mean mentally) we just have a theory on what is going on in his head. and I think it would be a waste not to use Vecna to do the same thing they did for Max for Mike and this is ignoring all of the parallels the two characters have. this is just from a story point of view and omg can you tell how passionate I am about this??

Now do i think it is impossible for any of the other character to get Vecna'd? No? it would probably be more similar to how Nancy got Vecna'd. Mostly because if my other theory is correct (is this shameless self-promotion?) I don't think there is time for like all the character to get Vecna'd.

But yeah, lets talk about a few of the character and why I do or don't think they could get Vecna'd. I will try to make this quick.

Steve: Steve is very interesting and I kind of wanna make like a character analysis about him at some point (probably after I rewatch the show) but I think it could go either way. Steves whole arc for the whole show is to show us how someone can change. Steve started as an ass and has slowly been evolving to become a better person. And I think there is a place for Vecna to come into that but idk if he needs it. I think Steve's can jump over the last hoop by himself (unlike some people who haven't even started jumping... (Mike)) Overall I don't think it will tell us anything we don't already know about Steve, but I can see Vecna wanting to incapacity Steve because of his physical strength. Dustin: Again, I am not sure what more Dustin getting Vecna'd will tell us about Dustin. If anyone has any thoughts, please don't be scared to let me know. I can see Vecna also wanting to take out Dustin because of his smarts. So strategically I can see this being something Vecna would want to "Take out" (but i am not sure how strategic Vecna is? I certainly don't think it would be the main reason that he targets someone.) Lucas: Idk, I think it would be great to have Lucus be more import to the plot but if he is gonna get Vecna'd it's gonna be about Max and him "teaming" up with the Basketball? guys. (I say hesitantly because I don't remember what sport it was...) Which we don't need to be told he feels bad about because he told us. So, idk. I guess we can talk about Will as well: but it's really all the same thing, I don't know what new information we can learn if we see him getting Vecna'd. Sure, its angsty and that might be reason enough for some people, but I know if I was writing Season 5, I wouldn't even consider it. We know almost everything that is plaguing Will. We see almost everything first hand. And sure, we knew about Billy for Max but like I said it was more than just "she watched Billy die" and sure maybe there is something I just don't see or don't know. I just don't see reason for this poor boy to go through more. The other thing is I don't see why Vecna would want to not just kill but make Will suffer. Make him have a pain full death? If Vecna wanted Will dead, Will would be dead. its plain and simple. the amount of times Vecna had Will in his grasps? I don't believe it was just luck. I would actually love to see if there aren't times where Will could be in danger, or it would make more sense for the danger to target will but for some reason it didn't, and he came out unscathed? (if I notice anything in my rewatch I will add it here) but yeah. also, there is all the parallels between Will and Vecna, so I think Vecna sees himself in will, maybe like how he saw himself in El and maybe will try and recite him. Idk but it seems (to me at least) that Vecna has more planed than, make him suffer and then die, in store for will. This is a really good analysis and this I agreed with on why Will was probably not gonna get Vecna'd. But it is a really good (and funny) video so go check it out if you haven't.

all of this is making me want to do an analysis on Vecna/henry. I don't think he is a partially new kind of villain, but I think it would be fun to try and dive into his head.

Hopeful this is my last point where I finally get to talk about my boy Mike wheeler. This is a Mike wheeler safe place. (I say as I am about to make my point on why he should go through pain and torture next season.)

I kind of have talked about some of this but let's dive into more detail (like we did with Max) and talk about my three main points

What it brings to the story

What advantage would it give Vecna (aka why would he want to Vecna them)

And how does it help the character

I feel like the story has been building up to this for a long time actually. Not only with the stalker shots that Mike is shot in but everything we see about his character. From how much we have seen his character change between season 2 and 3, to how little we actually know about Mikes inner workings. Mike is a puzzle right now. He is surrounded by character who are at least decently written and at most complex and compelling. And he is a main character? Like if Mike was a Minor or supporting character (like Erica and arguably robin) it would be weird sure but at least expectable. But Mike was THE main character in the opening season. We learn the most about him. And we see a lot of the story threw his eyes. And what? Were just going to throw all of that away? Like it was nothing?

But! I bring up the point I made about Max again. About what she was like in season two, what our impression of Max as a character and how that changed in season 4. The reason her character acted like that was because of things we didn't have connections for until season 4. All the parts were laid out in front of us they just needed to be connected. Mike getting Vecna'd will literally connect the dots for us. it'll show us an obvious and clear answer for what is wrong with Mike. Because how, honestly, are they going to show us all of these complex things that has been haunting Mike without a Vecna vision? It's the last season. We do not have endless time to unpack everything that is happening inside his head. Especially if the season is going to be as busy as I expect. We have like 20 other character who needs screen time, and we are getting introduced to more characters? And we have to fight the big bad? and there is gonna be a time skip (I swear to whatever higher being there is if they try to pull a "all Mikes' problems got fixed over the time skip" bs I am gonna be on the news for homicide. no-one will ever hear the end of it, omg. i don't even care if Byler becomes cannon, there will be war.) point is this matter is delicate and Mike lips on the matter are sealed so tight. If he hasn't said a word about this in 3 years he isn't gonna talk about it now. He needs a push, and Vecna is going to push him down a flight of stairs.

I do feel like I am repeating myself but it's crazy how similar Mike and Max character are. Almost like they are shining bright neon lights saying like look at this! notice this! and I know I am not the only one to point this out. But like what was stated in this video, Mike is almost the perfect person to Vecna'd , he not only has a connection with both El and Will. He, as Will would put it, is "the heart" of the party. He is connected to all the other character in some way. And if taking Max out would of killed motivation/ made the party unstable imagine what killing Mike would do to them? Which is why I do believe in the Mike was the original four victim theory (I think I saw someone go into more detail, but I can't find it. If I do, I will update with both links)

Also, remember when I mentioned that both Mike and Max have meddled with Vecna's plot in season 3, I just think I should point out how in the gym scene where they trap Billy in the sauna it is Mike taunting Him. And in season 2 he was the one who figured out that Will was possessed. All I can think of for season 1 is that he took El in and formed a kindling with her, which isn't strong evidence but idk maybe Vecna gets jealous easily idk.

And I think to understand this last point I would recommend watching or reading threw the links I linked all the way at the top of this discussion. but I would urge you to watch this at the very least: This video

if you haven't caught on yet, I do believe the Vecna visions are going to reveal to the audience that Mike is gay and has been the whole time. aemiron-main has a very good theory on how I think this is gonna go, because that falls into the same thought bubble as Max's. Where I think the theme isn't just that he is dealing with internalised Homophobia but his guilt surrounding his queerness. which we can easily explore through a vision. and it explains why he has been acting this way, especially in season 3. Like, can you even think about what this poor kid is going though mentally because, your best friend, literally your person got possessed, you watched as they lead to your friends new dad's death? like you can do nothing? and you blame yourself because if you had stop being gay for two seconds just to notice that there is something off about him you could have saved everyone? YEah I would be an asshole as well. Honestly, I think all the clues are there we just Vecna to piece them together.

And even in the very unlikely situation where I and like every other Byler are wrong about Mike being gay. Mike getting Vecna'd can only mean positive things for his character.

I feel like I had another point to make but I genuinely can't remember what it was T_T so, if I remember I will update this. But that is my point. Mike wheeler is gay and will be tormented by demonic infused visions of him being gay in the next season. so, you know. like an average Tuesday for any queer.

[necrotic-nephilim]

I want you to know that before you I didn’t even consider Cass/Tim/Jay before and now I can’t stop thinking about them. They could have such a fucked up dynamic or such a deep bond and I need them so bad my teeth hurt. Also, pretty.

i'm HAPPY to spread the propaganda for any ship involving Cass-

it's such a *fascinating* dynamic bc we don't have a ton of canon for what a relationship between Cass and Jason would look like. and i think the fanon take of "oh Cass would hate Jason for being pro-murder" isn't necessarily true. bc while yes, the morality will always be a sticking point for these two, Cass is about Drive. she is of everyone, the most wholly dedicated to the Mission outside of Bruce. and Jason is *also* about drive. the two of them have it in common, how absolutely focused they get on their concepts of what justice should look like. and if nothing else, i think they could respect each other. i think a well written Jason *should* respect Cass and have respect for how she was raised and how she's grown past it. she's done the one thing that he struggles to do: moved on from her tragic backstory and started to look forward.

and of course, they both have nuanced relationships with Tim. Tim and Cass love each other so deeply, and Jason is already weirdly obsessed with Tim. i think it's within the realm of possibility (if DC didn't write her out of comics for so long lmao) for Jason to extend that weird obsession to Cass. in the same way he respects Tim, he would respect Cass. respect both what she is and what should *could* be, similar to Tim. i like the idea of the three of them together in a very fucked up way- though like you said it could also be a healthier, deeper devotion. but something about how Jason would crave to sink his teeth into either or both of them is so good.

especially if they're already together, it'd drive Jason up a wall. i think it's fun if he tries to make them jealous by paying attention. tries to make Cass jealous by showing a lot of attention to Tim and getting up in his business, *knowing* that Cass is a protective partner. or vice versa trying to make Tim jealous with comments like "what? worried about someone else around your girl?". they know what he's doing, and they're pissed that it's *working*. i think Cass deserves to be sickly fascinated with someone like Jason, obsessed with the soft side of him that she *knows* exists and wanting to try to save him, while also being drawn into his intensity. so Cass wants to save Jason, Jason wants to corrupt Cass, and Tim is stuck in the middle with feelings for both of them unsure if he can stop them from killing each other or fucking. tbh he wants to be there for both.

[piromina]

huge props to marinette for spinning up that lie so fast and on the spot, too. I thought I was good but damn. of course she must have had a general idea of what she was going to say to adrien beforehand going off of gabriel's "make me look good" and her own love telling her that the truth would hurt adrien even more, but that's just a very vague idea. she could not have possibly spun up that entire story of a lie in her head beforehand with all that was going on - dealing with all the truths coming in one after the other, the crying, the emotional trauma, getting the kwamis back -

and of course, there's adrien. he is one of the highest things on her list of priorities, his safety being the first thing she needs to take care of. the problem is, she doesn't know how. the only thing she can do in that situation is lie. a small lie. just one to make it better for now and then she can make it a long-term lie later. make sure no one else finds out.

and once she started telling the lie, once the first words were out of the mouth, it was all improvisation. her next words showed up in her head as she was going, spinning up a believable story, just good enough to be taken as the truth. she rambled - a rookie mistake for liars - but you couldn't blame her. she's a professional liar, almost, with her superhero identity, but this one is different. just one hour after learning the truth she had to cover up all this with no warning beforehand.

she couldn't tell adrien the truth. but she couldn't do much to comfort him either. ladybug couldn't tell him something only marinette knows.

she had to lie. she had to come up with something on the spot. those words would haunt her for the rest of her life - that lie was all she could think about for the next couple of months because she had to make it work. she had to keep the truth and make everything work out. it wasn't a big deal. she just had to tell adrien something, anything that would comfort him! what would comfort him about his father? what would convince him that he was a good guy this whole time? that he was a, a, a hero! yes, she would tell him that. it was a white lie! she wasn't a bad person! she just had to tell adrien that his father was a hero so that he would never have to know the truth and suffer like she did. he was a hero.

was.

once that word came out of her mouth, there was no going back.

[lunarharp]

into the deep end - 30k T orufrey fic, focusing on memory trauma, disability, and romance.

the sweet oblivion of the victim, the poisoned freedom of the other.

for one moment - it had felt like two parts returned - the needed reunion of two disparate halves. no more secrets, no more pain.

the moment you get to give back what you never wanted to take. that moment, under the night-blooming flowers, when they had both let out the same single broken sigh of relief.

but they were never whole to begin with, were they?

qifrey swore he wouldn't say 'sorry' to this man any more if he could help it - sorry is cheap now. he didn't want to be in a position ever again where you only have 'sorry' left. so he just looks down into the threads of his blanket, strains his eye until it hurts, feeling his insides - his throat, heart and head - burn with pain. he expects more, but olly says nothing.

olly says nothing.

[fountainpenguin]

Things that happened in Martyn & Cleo Double Life canon:

Cleo hoping to find her soulmate and start a life with them

Cleo dumping Martyn without giving him a chance to explain his side of the story, but hearing him out when he comes to her later

Martyn watching Cleo through his spyglass and telling the audience she seems safe and happy even though he thinks it's weird she's outside at night

Martyn, after he's had time to consider how he wants to play this, spinning a story about trying to be a provider for her and Cleo explaining that she wanted him, not things

Cleo not being remotely impressed by the "I was providing" sob story, lol

Martyn calling Cleo selfish for choosing to be with Scott because she's supposed to be HIS soulmate and he wants a partner

Cleo willing to forgive Martyn if he meets them halfway

Martyn refusing to meet them halfway because he doesn't think he did anything wrong

Martyn screaming about how Cleo's building bridges with Scott but "When will she think about mending our bridges???"

Martyn explaining to Cleo that he doesn't understand why his Session 1 actions bothered them

Martyn centering his character arc and roleplay on trying to win Cleo back without actually apologizing

Cleo giving Martyn a flower and stating that if he loses it, she'll be real cross with him

Cleo chasing Martyn out of her yard because he tried to put an HOA sign on her base and she wanted to make it clear that she wasn't associated with them and their hate for his base (even though she does think his heart base is strange)

Martyn attacking Cleo after she said attacking is a form of affection to her

Cleo setting boundaries with Martyn and explaining what he can do to get her back

Cleo sighing when Scar set her up on a date with Martyn, but taking the chance to talk to him instead of walking out

Cleo genuinely wanting Martyn in her alliance

Martyn and Cleo giggling constantly when they chat

Scar asking if Martyn wanted him to play a romantic music disc for him and Cleo (and Martyn getting excited and saying yes)

Martyn offering to take Cleo's armor and weapons to the deep dark so he can enchant them and bring them back while she stays safe

Cleo gifting Martyn diamonds, expecting nothing in return but not wanting him to die from lack of a good sword

Martyn and Cleo forming a secret alliance that allows Cleo to live with Scott while being on good terms with Martyn

Martyn expressing frustration that Cleo wants to keep this alliance secret because he wants them to be public allies; Cleo softly shushes him when people approach and might overhear

Martyn telling Cleo that she's putting out a lot of mixed signals because she keeps reeling him in and then pushing him away, claiming he is very confused about where he stands with her

Martyn teasing Cleo by punching her off a cliff and accidentally killing her and feeling so bad about it that he apologizes profusely despite roleplaying as someone who refused to apologize for Session 1

Martyn and Cleo immediately threatening Bdubs together when he said hi to them while they were hanging out, sdkfj

Martyn genuinely apologizing to Pearl for dumping her after Session 1

Martyn hiding under Cleo's bed while she defends him from an enderman attack

Cleo offering to let Martyn move into her house after Etho and Joel grief his base; Martyn saying he might take her up on that

Cleo and Martyn agreeing to move out and base together at Box

Cleo trusting Martyn with the location and resources of her red life base

Martyn rushing to Cleo's aid in the deep dark and trying to turn everyone against him instead

Cleo responding to Martyn's panicked shouts for her to eat by opening her inventory to get food (and drowning because she forgot she was in water)

Cleo hanging back and letting Martyn attack Scott while she does nothing to stop him from doing so, implying as much as she likes Scott, she won't kill Martyn (and herself) for him (and/or she trusted Scott to handle himself even though he ran away while Martyn was shooting at him)

Things that did not happen:

Cleo unwilling to forgive Martyn or consider being his friend and partner

Martyn and Cleo hating each other

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk

[nostalgia-tblr]

I watched Avengers: Age of Ultron (apart from I skipped some overly long action sequences) and I am not sure so can someone tell me whether or not Tony Stark was the baddy in that film? Because about halfway through I was sure he was but then it was maybe just an evil robot after all and I am confused because either this film was surprisingly subversive or it was about robots hitting each other.