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sammyofold · 5 months ago

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Here's the second part of the wincest fic rec list! The fics are grouped together under overarching tropes.

(Part 1 | Part 2)

Case Fics

The Truth In The Lie by flawedamythyst.

Summary: Sam and Dean pretend to be gay lovers while they hunt a monster on a bus tour of Nova Scotia.

Pine Sweat by Goshen.

Summary: Sam and Dean get sent back to 1996 and go on a hunt with their teenaged selves. The kids don't know who they are.

this narrow room where life began by peculiarstate.

Summary: Everything Dean is, even all these years later, is still for Sam, only ever Sam, it beats through his blood more real to him than his own heartbeat, Sam, Sam, Sam. The common fucking denominator of Dean’s entire life. or Four years later, Dean has Sam back. Some things have changed. The main thing hasn't.

venti cup of poison, half-caf, long shot by darlingargents.

Summary: A string of murders outside Seattle seem to be connected by coffee. Sam goes undercover as a barista to try and get to the bottom of it.

Mercy by LaughableLament.

Summary: Sam’s rattled, hunting a ghost light in the aftermath of Dean’s reunion with Cassie—a woman so important, Dean disobeyed Dad for her.

Walkin' the Tightrope by non_tiembo_mala.

Summary: It’s 2036, and twenty years since Sam and Dean called it quits on hunting to take up a secluded, quiet life. Maybe Jesse and Cesar gave them the idea, but after Amara, they realized they’d done enough. And they wanted a proper life together even more. Known as Sam Wesson and Dean Smith to the residents of the nearby town they call home, Sam and Dean keep mostly to themselves, their immaculately kept ‘67 Chevy Impala, and their cabin in the woods. That is, until someone from their past tracks them down, desperate for help. Sam and Dean can’t say no, not when it’s their dear friend Jody Mills in deep trouble – she’s missing – but the wedding bands they wear make going back to their old life just that little bit more complicated…

The Things We Carry With Us by lovesrain44.

Summary: Sam and Dean are on the road, saving people and hunting things, like they always do. Dean discovers that Sam is attempting to turn himself into a monk, and so he does his best to get Sam laid. Sam resists because, of course, who needs to have sex with a girl when Dean’s around? It's about going on a roadtrip with your brother. It's about the food you eat, and the maps you follow. It's about the things you carry with you. (Takes place some time after Heart.)

On the Cover of a Magazine by teashopmuses (LJ).

Summary: Sam and Dean are called in to investigate the mysterious death of a model at a photography studio in Michigan. The only way for them to get in? Pose as models themselves – which is much easier said than done.

When It Crackles by lyra_wing (LJ).

Summary: A cult is rumored to be guarding the Fountain of Youth. Oh, and while investigating it, Sam and Dean get roped into getting married. Yep.

Always You, without time or space by benitle (LJ).

Summary: Sam and Dean leave New Paltz, a haunted painting and Sarah behind them, each thinking in their own ways it'll be the last time they do anything like that. It isn't long before a string of unexplainable deaths takes them to The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. Between frustration and brotherly fights, surviving more art than can be seen in a lifetime, a revenge killer and the mean city, their relationship is taken to a whole new level that neither of them had expected. But of course it's never that simple, because between all the emotional chaos, there's also a case to solve!

Swesson

A Case of Do or Die by RiverSongTam.

Summary: Former hunter Dean Smith and Men of Letters legacy Sam Wesson are working through the rigorous MOL initiation process as partners, an arrangement Dean isn’t too happy about at first. Both he and Sam worry about being paired with someone they’re so attracted to—and who’s obviously straight. As the boys work together, they become friends, both secretly fighting their feelings for the other despite days at the movies, hours of research, and nights at the Roadhouse spent in each other’s company. When Sam has a vision of Abaddon wiping out the Men of Letters on initiation night, the pair wind up fighting something even more terrifying. The Men of Letters aren’t going to die out on Sam and Dean’s watch—even if a misunderstanding about their feelings for each other happens along the way.

Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here by Zanne.

Summary: Dean Smith and Sam Wesson want to hunt some more ghosts. They go to the experts for some hands-on training, but can they fight the strange attraction between them?

Who Are You? (I Really Wanna Know) by orphan_account.

Summary: Ever since Sam Wesson moved to Ohio, he’s found himself in an exceedingly terrifying series of battles against his own brain—and the attractive man he keeps bumping into with the strikingly green eyes is Sam’s only clue as to why. Meanwhile, Dean Smith’s next promotion is practically in the bag until he starts stumbling over a succession of worrisomely inappropriate outbursts. The cute, but creepy IT guy who keeps leering at him really isn’t helping things either.

When We Kiss Our Scars Align by matchsticks_p.

Summary: Meet Sam Wesson. Meet a ghost. Meet more ghosts. Meet each other's parents. This is not how Dean Smith had imagined his life would go.

More than the dirt it takes to bury them by gorgeousnerd.

Summary: Sam Wesson doesn't usually run off with strangers to fight what lurks in the dark. But then, Sam doesn't meet people he dreams about - people like Dean Smith - every day. It's not perfect, but he's making a difference and getting closer to Dean, so what's not to love? Except the dreams he still can't explain. And the way he's starting to sweat and shake and itch for something he can't name. Something like demon blood.

How Many Floors to Realize by lazy_daze.

Summary: AU from the end of It's A Terrible Life, in which Zachariah decides to keep stringing them along a little while longer, because damn if they aren't somewhat entertaining, right?

Green Man by inalasahl.

Summary: Godstiel puts Sam and Dean back into the Sandover verse. It takes them some time to recover their memories.

Demon Dean

Welcome to Your Future by klove0511.

Summary: When Dean is suddenly pulled through time, he's confronted with a broken little brother a decade older than he should be. With Sam determined to send Dean back to his own time, will Dean be able to figure out where his present day counterpart is and fix things for Sam?

Come Close by AlulaSpeaks.

Summary: Dean may be a demon, but that doesn't mean he's stupid. In fact, he's just bursting with good ideas.

is there a word for bad miracles by withthekeyisking.

Summary: Dean comes back from Hell...different. But hey, it's not like Sam's the same as he used to be, either.

High Achiever by Agent_Hellcat.

Summary: Dean rescues Sam from Cole, his abductor. But does he have a hidden agenda?

Undeniable Dilemma by rosych33ks.

Summary: Dean stepped forward again, a strange kind of patience in the action, and Sam flattened himself back against the car, hands up, knife in the left just a useless afterthought at this point. “No, Dean, wait! You can— There’s something else we can do.�� Dean sneered at him, but he just shifted his weight to his other hip, didn’t go for Sam again immediately, and that was something at least. “Oh yeah?” He said it like he was humoring him, probably thought he was letting Sam stall for his own amusement. “And what’s that?” Sam straightened a little, made himself look Dean right in the eyes, and most of all, did not let himself think. “You can fuck me.”

Ruin You by Mumble_Bee.

Summary: Cole fucks Sam with Demon!Dean watching from a devil's trap, snarling that anyone would dare touch what was his.

(Note: Trigger warnings for graphic depictions of rape and torture. Here's another version the author wrote where Dean is human. Same warnings apply.)

Alternate Events & Fix-Its

Away to Darker Dreams by brokenlittleboy.

Summary: Finally hunting on his own, Dean makes a trip to Stanford to visit Sam, only to find his little brother's gone missing. And when he finally does stumble upon him in a dark twist of fate, Sam is not the boy he used to be.

B-Side by phoenixflight.

Summary: Sam Winchester is a senior at Stanford with his whole life in front of him when he dies in a tragic fire. He didn't know what to hope for from an afterlife, exactly, but whatever it was, it wasn't his brother Dean, arrived before him.

Truth or consequences by rivkat.

Summary: What if Agent Henriksen gave Dean truth serum? Disinhibition and dirty talk.

120 - forgiveness by ani_coolgirl.

Summary: Dean reassures Sam that he did the right thing by putting down Samuel. Due to past events, Sam has a hard time understanding Dean's attitude. Conversations are had and misunderstandings are finally cleared up.

Brother's Blood by diana_lucifera, stormageddon.

Summary: When Dean goes missing on a hunt in New Orleans, John picks Sam up from Stanford to help look for him. (Pilot AU)

Always My Guide by Delanach.

Summary: After Dean goes to hell, Sam turns to Ruby but using his powers for the first time after tasting her blood takes away his sight. Bobby takes him in but it's not until Dean is pulled out of hell that he faces up to having to learn to live with a new reality. As for Dean, helping Sam relearn everything from the ground up gives him something to focus on. When Sam insists on tagging along on a simple salt and burn and they encounter a demon, they realize that Sam still has his powers, they are stronger than before, and he can sense other supernatural beings in different ways. When they are faced with the possibility of Lucifer rising, they must work together with Bobby and an angel called Castiel to stop it happening.

This is Ourselves (Under Pressure) by clex_monkie89 (LJ).

Summary: After Nightshifter, Sam and Dean hit the road. What follows is three months of fear and frustration with the FBI hot on their heels, trying to avoid the long arm of the law while still continuing to work. It's not easy; being on the run doesn't leave much time for breathing, never mind sleep, sex or any much-needed downtime.

Extra Gen Fics

What You Choose To Do With It by StarsandJellyfish.

Summary: Sam and Dean have finally got to a good place in their relationship, after the fiasco that was the few years Dean had the Mark. Now, weird things are happening all the time, and Sam has no idea what is going on or why. Dean is acting strangely, like he knows something Sam doesn't. Sam is just looking for an explanation that makes sense. Or five times Sam used his powers without knowing it, and one time he knew it and worried what Dean would think.

Red in Tooth and Claw by LilacLetter.

Summary: It’s the summer before Sam’s senior year. The brothers are stuck in New Mexico where their dad left them to their own devices. Sam and Dean are bored stiff in the searing heat… until a case comes along. It can’t hurt to check out the mysterious desert creature alone, right? Case-fic, pre-series, h/c.

Time held me green and dying by anyplaceisbetter.

Summary: Sam wakes up aged 9 and with zero clue who the weird man in the bed next to his is. They deal.

The Bonds of Brotherhood by authoressjean.

Summary: In the wake of Lilith's death and the apparent destruction of their brotherhood, Dean and Sam find there's an even bigger revelation than Lucifer rising, because Lucifer isn't in his Cage. Lucifer and Michael both Fell a long time ago and became someone new. Became human.

With Heaven and Hell gunning for them, and new/old brothers fighting beside them, Dean and Sam have to navigate the world as the archangels they used to be and the brothers they're desperately trying to be again. Their bonds of brotherhood aren't easily torn apart, though, and something their enemies would be wise to realize.

Customs of the County by TheMarvelousTolkienJob.

Summary: All Sam wanted was to be normal. Go to school. Make friends. Spend quality time with his family. Only, the universe seemed to be conspiring against him and even these simple experience were turning out to be anything but that. Instead, he gets a rigged school system, an absent father, and an upset brother.

A New Beginning by MonPetitTresor.

Summary: After Chuck and Amara make up, they reveal their new plans - and they're nothing like what anyone had expected.

For Your Own Good 'verse by mentholpixie.

Summary: “Don't worry, Dean. I'll be a good little soldier and do everything Dad says. Promise.” Sam doesn't know how right he is.

On Our Own by authoressnebula.

Summary: When Sam is fifteen, his dad makes a decision based on a dark future he was apparently shown by an 'angel': split his sons up and abandon his youngest to keep that future at bay. Dean refuses to let it happen, but if they want to stay together, there's only one option: run.

#wincest #samdean #fic recs #rec list #part 2 #og post

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sameheart-sameblood · 2 years ago

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Love in the Time of Cordyceps

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: when the world ends, you promise you'll never love again. joel miller makes that rule hard to stick to

words: 7.1k

warnings: mentions of gore (pretty tame but still), swearing, sickness, angst, fluff, two dummies not realizing they love each other until one of them almost dies 🙄

a/n: this was supposed to be more angsty but then i remembered life is hard enough already. and i just want soft joel soooo here we are. also i meant to write 2k at most but boy do i love to ramble

read on ao3!

After the world goes to hell, you promise yourself you’ll never love again. A person, an animal, a place, nothing. Only a fool would choose to make themselves that vulnerable, needing every fiber of your being one hundred percent devoted to your survival and nothing more.

Was a life without love worth living? Every time that question enters your mind, you swat it aside. It’s like a nagging fly that buzzes around you until your persistence finally drives it away completely. Of course you could live without love. You’d been doing it just fine these past fifteen years.

Living without attachment proves useful in the new world you find yourself in. It makes the countless people you lose along the way easier to move on from. In the early days, your heart still twinges as the people around you drop like flies. Most fall victim to the bites of clickers, some to raiders’ gun, a few by their own hand.

The first group you had travel with is filled with Midwesterners who see the terrors of the new world and still somehow have a smile and a joke for you. Their joviality can’t save them, though. Clickers swarm you one rainy night two years after the fall of civilization. The sight of Gail, a woman who reminds you of your grandmother, having her stomach ripped out by an especially voracious clicker cures you of your need for any connections to the living.

Over the years, you make your way to the East Coast. Smiles, defiant in the face of adversity are replaced by permanent grimaces etched into the faces of everyone you meet. It seems as though every survivor has lost the ability for happiness of any kind. Good, you think, they’re finally learning. You wonder what took them so long.

Tales of peace the Canadian wilderness has to offer reaches your ears. In your heart you know it is most likely a tall tale spread by desperate survivors. But the good thing about a zombie apocalypse is you now have nothing but time on your hands. Working your way north, if all goes well, you’ll reach Saint John by May, continue to Port Elgin and then decide if you’d try for Prince Edward Island or turn east to Nova Scotia.

Plans are made to be broken, though, and yours, along with your ankle, break clean through one day as you make your way through Boston. It would have been over for you if not for the two survivors that find you nursing your injury in a department store that will most likely be swarming with clickers by nightfall.

The woman, after she puts her gun away, introduces herself as Tess. The man doesn’t offer his name, preferring to keep the barrel of his shotgun pointed at you. As they argue quietly over what to do with you, you observe their faces. Both are etched hard with years of loss and worry. Even harder than your joyless face. It’s impressive albeit in a sad kind of way.

Tess had somehow persuades the man to help you back to the Boston QZ. Joel. You hear her call him Joel. “Fine,” he had grumbles as he places your arm over his shoulder for support, “but if she scans red, I will not hesitate to put her down.” Oddly enough his threat somehow makes you almost like him. You sense a kindred spirit. Another follower of the “no love, no attachment” way of life.

You do not, in fact, scan red and are allowed to enter the QZ. An apartment is assigned to you, a crappy little studio with faded lime green paint. The old you would have adored it, called it quirky and planned out how best to decorate it with your meager funds. The new you just appreciates a safe place to sleep.

After your ankle heals, Tess invites you to join her smuggling scheme. Thoughts of Canada flee your mind for the time-being and you gladly welcome something to keep yourself occupied.

“But what about the cowboy?” you ask.

“Joel? What about him?”

Your eyebrows arch, “He threatened to shoot me.”

“Only if you were infected. Just don’t get infected.” She says it like you’re discussing the weather.

Joel allows you into the group begrudgingly, probably because he thinks they can use you as bait or a distraction if needed. Fine. Let them label you bait. You’ve been called worse before.

The first few months working together are tense. Joel reprimands you for the smallest mistakes and warns Tess you’ll get them all killed. At first, you bite your tongue, reminding yourself of the part he had in saving you. But one night after he scolds you for the millionth time about not checking your blind spots for clickers, you snap. “Fuck off, Joel! I survived the clickers for fifteen years. I think I know what I’m fucking doing!.”

He holds up his hands in surrender, wandering off with a hurt pout like he wasn’t the one who was just being the asshole. You wonder why your victory leaves you feeling hollow.

After that, Joel keeps his mouth shut around you. No nagging, no “helpful” tips. Just the bare minimum of whatever he needs to convey. You’ll never admit that it hurts. You don’t have to, though. Tess, at the end of her rope, explodes one night as the three of you eat dinner in awkward silence. “Couple of fuckin’ babies I’m working with,” she seethes. “If you don’t grow up I’m finding a new crew.”

It’s decided that you and Joel will do the next supply run to Bill’s. Alone. No Tess there to act as buffer between you and him. Joel grunts at that but doesn’t argue, always deferring to your leader. The trip to Bill’s goes as well as you can ask. There are no arguments between the two of you at least. You’re sure you even see Joel crack a smile. Of course it’s when you clumsily tripped over a raised tree root…But hey, progress is progress.

With the supplies in tow and Frank’s compound behind you, you actually think this trip might be a success. A gang of raiders lying in wait to sabotage you dashes your hopes of that. They had seen the two of you lugging your supplies and thought it would be an easy win. At first, they are correct. They outnumber you and Joel in size and wickedness. The four of them aren’t content to kill you outright. They tie you up and discuss what to do with you next.

Of course their attention quickly falls on you. The man with an ugly gash across his face leers at you. “Maybe we should keep her around awhile. She looks like fun.” Try as you might to act tough, that sends the blood rushing through your ears.

You almost don’t hear Joel snarl at them. “You lay one finger on her and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.” The venom in his voice snaps you back to reality. While their attention is on him, you discreetly start ripping at your bonds with the little pocket knife you thankfully decided to stow in your back pocket.

They beat Joel senseless by the time you get free. You honestly think you’re too late as you stab the goon nearest to you in the thigh, by some miracle hitting his femoral artery. The others turn to you, blindsided as you go wild at the sight of your bloodied and broken companion. Gash-Face comes roaring at you, all brawn no brains. The look of surprise as you lodge the knife in his neck makes you smile with sickening glee.

The remaining two corner you, murder in their eyes. Your gun is just beyond them, taunting you to come retrieve it. The only “weapon” you have is the belt you’re wearing, it’s clasp heavy and silver. You undo it and swing it at the nearest man. He grabs it, cackling victoriously as he uses it to pull you closer. In their grasp, you become the target of their blows. You curl into the fetal position, angry that after all the near death experiences you’ve had, this will be the way you go out.

A shot rings out, then another. Two thuds on the ground next to you make you open your already swollen eyes. As you look up, you realize your savior is Joel. Back from the dead. His face is covered in blood, like some kind of ghoul. But in that moment, you have never seen someone look more like an angel. The two of you limp back to the QZ where Tess nurses you as she simultaneously curses the deceased thugs.

Joel corners you in the bathroom the next day as you study your bruised face. “You could have run,” he hisses at you, making you jump. You don’t know what he wants so you just shrug. He invades your space, making you back against the counter. “Why didn’t you run?” His voice has gone low, anger simmering just beneath the surface.

Faces inches from each other, all you can muster is a weak, “We’re a team. I wasn’t going to leave you.”

Several emotions flicker across his face in quick succession. Anger, fear, worry and something you can’t quite put your finger on. Pride? Maybe that was you projecting but you hope you were right. Joel studies you for a moment longer, then reiterates, “Next time, you run.”

******

After that, things change. Joel is still a man of few words but the ones he does grace you with are softer and more intentional. Instead of berating you for the knowledge and skills you lack, he takes them time to teach you. He shows you how to identify fake ration cards and to spot the kind of guard you can bribe. Nights are spent with you following behind him like a shadow as he shows you all the secret ways in and out of the QZ. When your hands shake during target practice, he places his calloused ones over yours. It steadies your hands but frays your nerves, threatening to awake a feeling long thought dormant.

It goes both ways. Joel lacks attention to detail in certain situations and you show him how to read people and ascertain their flaws that can be exploited. During your runs you point out the flora that can be consumed safely or used as medicine. At Flynn’s, the only bar in the QZ, you teach him how to play pool. An essential to survival? No. But it sure helps you win a huge stash of ration cards from your fellows survivors. It also gives you an excuse to sidle up behind him and mold your body around his, all in the name of helping him get the “proper pool stance.”

Your excuses to fleetingly touch one another became more and more common. They are all perfectly innocent but carry the weight of something elicit, at least to you. Joel is never one to give away his innermost thoughts, happy to wear a permanent poker face. For all you know he couldn’t care less about you. Maybe he just knows keeping you alive is good for business and that’s why he takes a particular interest in making sure you’re safe. Whatever the reason, you hope he never stops.

******

During one supply run, a torrential thunderstorm forces you to spend the night at Bill and Frank’s. You know it makes Joel nervous to be indebted to anyone for such hospitality but you can’t hide your glee. A night there means a cozy bed and a hot shower, something hard to find in your home where the water runs tepid at best.

Afterwards spending way too long in the bathroom, you curl up in your bed, toasty and content, only to find sleep won’t not come. Your hosts are dear to you, even the grumpy Bill, but their snoring through the wall you share makes hopes for a deep sleep impossible.

After an hour of tossing and turning, you decide to go make your bed on the couch. As you tiptoe down the stairs you run into Joel, on his way up . “Going somewhere?” he drawls, exhaustion making his voice deeper than usual. You shrug, “Couldn’t sleep. There are two buzzsaws in the room next door.”

Joel chuckles, “I’ve had that room before. Can’t say it was the best night of sleep I’ve ever had.” You lived for these little snippets into Joel’s life before you came around, always eager to hear more. But the trek to the house through never-ending sleet and over the turbulent river left you more tired than you had felt in years. Right now all you want is to get where you could pass out immediately. “I’m just gonna make camp on the couch,” you say, stifling a yawn.

Joel shakes his head. “You take my room. The couch is good enough for me.” This man. Hadn’t anyone told him chivalry is dead. You sigh tiredly and beckon for him to come back up the stairs with you. “It’s a big bed. We can share.” There is silence behind you where there should have been footsteps. Joel’s smile disappears as his forehead creases in thought. “Please,” you pout, “I can’t sleep in my room and I won’t get any rest knowing you’re crammed on that dainty little loveseat.”

It takes far more coaxing than it should but finally Joel gives you a little nod and follows you into his - your - room. You gesture to the bed, “Care which side you get?” Joel thinks, then shrugs. “Left is good.” You flop onto the right side, eyes immediately drooping shut. Once again, there is no movement from your companion. Without opening your eyes, you chide him, “If you’re gonna be weird and watch me sleep all night then you can go sleep on the couch.” That got him moving again.

The sound of the shower turning on lulls you to a sleep that is disturbed only when you feel the dip of the bed several minutes later. You watch through barely opened eyes as Joel does a strange shimmy under the covers. It’s clear he’s trying his best not to wake you. The sight makes you laugh softly and his head whips to you.

“Thought you were asleep,” he murmurs.

You hum, “I was. You woke me up.”

It’s meant to be a joke but Joel grimaces. “Sorry.”

The sight is sweet and your heart flips, his frown making him look almost boyish. “It’s ok. It’s your bed.”

As you burrow into your cocoon of blankets, Joel props himself up, a pillow behind his back. He looks from you to the bedside lamp and back again. “You mind if I read for a few minutes?”

That surprises you. In all your time together you had rarely seen Joel do something just for the pleasure of it. There was usually no time. But Bill and Frank’s is a sanctuary and even the hyper-vigilant Joel Miller is able to slow down here. You nod enthusiastically, perking up. “What are you reading?”

It’s like you had asked him what his darkest secret was. He reddens, then finally grabs a book from the table. Pride and Prejudice. He stammers, “It’s just…I never had a lot of time for reading before and this was a favorite of…it was a favorite of somebody I knew.”

“You can read out loud to me if you want,” you offer with a grin. Honestly it was half in jest and half a serious hope. It had been decades since anyone had read aloud to you. Joel, always thinking you were making some sort of fun of him, smirks sarcastically. “Not a chance.”

Your glower slowly melts away at the sight of him putting on his reading glasses and settling in. Silently you curse as you feel your hardened heart crack just the tiniest bit. Idiot that you are, you try to talk yourself out of your own feelings. You aren’t attached to Joel. How could you be? He’s just a handsome, rugged man who keeps you safe and reads Jane Austen in his spare time. Maybe some lesser fool would fall for him but not you. No, sir.

The next morning, you find yourself curled into him, chest pressed against his back and arm draped over his side. Like a bomb diffuser, you carefully try to extricate yourself from the position, every movement slow and precise. Joel, still asleep, lazily grabs your hand, keeping your arm around him. He sighs contentedly as you settle back down and you swear under your breath, nestling your head at the crook of his neck. You are so that lesser fool.

******

The thunderstorms of summer give way to the pleasant days of autumn. Those good days don’t seem to last long enough. You should have appreciated them more while they were there but so is the way of being human.

Winter in Boston isn’t fun. Ok that’s an understatement. It makes you long for the soul-sucking, never-ending Midwestern winters you had lived through for most of your life. There is something about being next to the ocean that makes everything feel colder.

The nights are especially hard, the wind seeping through the cracks in the walls of your apartment. No matter how many blankets you tuck around yourself, your body never truly feels warm. Runs to Bill’s or anywhere outside the QZ become less frequent and more difficult. Only those deemed truly necessary are attempted and even then there is always a long discussion beforehand weighing out the pros and cons.

Runs between the months of November and January are too risky and after much debate, it is decided you three would lay low in the relative safety of the QZ. In the meantime, you’d assess your stockpile, make connections over the radio and wait for the spring thaw. With less food smuggled in from the outside, you decide to put your energy into earning ration cards. Even though no one could argue you don’t pull your weight in the group, you often feel like the weak link. Making sure Tess and Joel have a hot meal every night is the least you could do.

Joel had always told you to stay away from sewer work. It paid double what the other jobs did but at a high risk. Besides not being able to wash the stink off for days, the tunnels under the city were treacherous. Many had gone down there only to be blindsided by a stray clicker or jumped by a loner who made their home away from society up above. Some just got lost in the labyrinth, never to be heard from again. Or at least you had been told. You hoped those were just myths.

You and three other desperate souls are sent down to the sewers with the task of clearing the rubble from a recent cave in. A hard day’s work definitely but you were optimistic that you could get it done in a few hours time and be on your way.

The first few hours go well, the biggest pieces of the concrete being cleared easily enough. Your back aches and callouses quickly form on your palms. But still, all of that you can deal with, mollifying yourself with the thought of the stack of ration cards you’ll proudly gift to Joel and Tess.

Maybe if you hadn’t been daydreaming you would have heard the shouts of your fellow volunteers sooner. Finally coming back to reality, you move just in time to avoid another piece of falling rock. You save yourself from being crushed but lose your footing, coming down hard on your shin.

A stream of bright blood instantly trickles from the gash and you swear as you try to keep the tears that spring to your eyes at bay. Wanting to prove yourself, you brush off your group’s insistence that you go get it checked by the doctor. It doesn’t matter if you complete ninety percent of your shift. You still don’t get your payment if you leave early. So you suck it up for another hour, slogging through the muck as you finish the job. It’s fine, you tell yourself, it’s just a scratch. You’ll wash it off when I get home and be good as new.

With the job done and ration cards tucked away in your pocket, you hobble back towards your apartment. The thought of a shower, as lukewarm as it will be, is the only thing keeping you upright. That is until you feel someone putting your arm around their shoulder. Joel helps you the few blocks to your house, his icy silence hurting you more than the cut that now throbs with every jostle.

It’s only after you get inside and are deposited on the couch that Joel speaks. He rolls up the leg of your jeans, cursing as he sees the already festering wound. “I told you to stay out of the sewers.”

You suck in a pained breath as he starts wiping away the dirt. “I’m fine. It’s just a little cut. Besides, it was worth it,” you pull out the stack of ration cards and present them to him proudly. The sight gives him pause. But the look on his face isn’t one of gratitude, it’s worried exasperation. His signature grimace returns, “It’s not worth it if you lose your leg.” And people claim you’re dramatic.

Pushing him away with a shoo, you rise, limping to the bathroom. “I just need a shower. Then I’ll be right as rain.” As you peel off your now ruined clothes, Joel hovers on the other side of the door. “I can hear you pacing,” you call over the sound of the warming shower.

Even through the almost closed door you can hear Joel sigh. “I just think we should take you to the doc. Make sure you’re alright.” The water hitting you makes you audibly moan, the filth on your body washing down the drain and with it, the memory of the hard day. You appreciate the concern but all you want to do know is forget about the day. You call out to a still pacing Joel, “I’m fine. You worry too much!”

******

It turns out Joel worries the right amount. Of course he does. As eager as you are to forget about your day, it’s not long before you can’t ignore your leg. The wound is an angry red and the area around it has swollen, leaving it tender and throbbing. Thankfully you have Joel there to dress it because, honestly, you can’t stomach the sight of it. These past years have been filled with much blood and gore at your own hands. But there’s something different when it’s your own blood.

In any other circumstance you would have reveled in the feeling of Joel holding your leg so tenderly, his fingers brushing against your skin as he wraps the bandage around you. It would have driven you insane seeing him crouched in between your legs as he is now. But at the moment all you can think about is how you much pain you’re in.

You try not to show your discomfort, but your poker face is nonexistent. Joel’s eyes flick up to yours as you slowly exhale, trying to keep calm. Avoidance has always been one of your favorite tactics when dealing with uncomfortable situations so you pipe up, overly perkily, “See? All better. Now about those ration cards, I was thinking for dinner-“

Joel rolls his eyes, standing with a groan, his knees audibly cracking. “The only thing you’re gonna do tonight is rest.”

You slowly turn your body to prop your leg up on a pillow as he watches. Pouting has never worked on Joel but you figure it never hurts to try. “I still have to eat,” you mope.

“You will. I’ll open a can of soup or something.”

The disappointment is real and bubbles to the surface quicker than you realized it would. “I just wanted us all to have a nice dinner. You and Tess do so much and I feel like…” Thinking how you feel is different from saying it out loud and you have to psych yourself up. Joel’s softening gaze helps you continue. “I feel like I’m useless. I just thought this was one thing I could do to really contribute.”

The silence between you feels heavy as you avoid his stare. Finally, he speaks, confusion contorting his features, “Of course you contribute. We wouldn’t have kept you around if you hadn’t.” It’s meant to make you feel better but it doesn’t, especially in your current laid up state.

“So are you going to get rid of me if I’m no longer useful?” you gesture at your leg, feeling your eyes beginning to sting with tears.

Joel sits down next to you. Your fear has made you defiant and you meet his gaze, wanting to fight. But Joel speaks in a soft, level voice, as if teaching a child a lesson. “First of all, you’re going to get better. You just need to be patient. Second, you’re thinking there’s only one kind of way to be useful.”

“I can’t shoot like you two can. I can’t fight. I can’t threaten people into getting what I want. I can go on runs and earn ration cards. That’s it. I’m too soft for anything actually important.”

Joel frowns, “You say that like it’s a bad thing. ‘Being soft’ in a world like this is an act of defiance. It’s brave as hell. What you consider important? I don’t want that for you.”

Warmth spreads through your chest as you observe him. He’s trying so hard to find his next words, to make you believe his truth. “Me and Tess, we let the world harden us more than it needed to. It was easier that way. But having you around reminds us there’s still innocence and good out there.”

The angry tears have turned to ones of gratitude. The sentiment is too much for you, unused to such vulnerability from Joel. You give him a small smile and he returns it, leaning over to wipe a tear off your cheek. “You’re useful just being you.”

While you still wish you matched Joel and Tess’ levels of badassery, the conversation helps ease your mind. You might not think much of your survival skills but you remind yourself that you’ve stayed alive in a world that wants you dead. Fifteen years you’ve been fighting and surviving and that’s nothing to look down on.

“And for what it’s worth, “ he adds, “you scared the hell out of me the first time we met.”

You grin at him, shocked, “Really?”

He nods, smirking cheekily, “Really. Still do sometimes.”

******

Joel heats up a can of tomato soup for you to share. You try not to think of how old it must be as he prepares it. But actually, it’s not bad, the taste reminding you of your childhood.

It also helps that you’re sharing it with someone you care about. A part of you hates that how easily you’ve let him into your heart. The one thing you swore off all those years ago is now all you can think about as you watch him sitting across from you, ladling out the steaming liquid.

He catches you staring and breaks the silence, “Were you even going to tell me you got hurt today if I hadn’t run into you.” The fuzziness of your feelings for him makes your brain a little mushy and instead of having a grownup conversation, you reply with a childish, “No, I thought I’d let it be a soup-rise.”

Joel rolls his eyes in mock annoyance. You chuckle and continue eating your rapidly cooling dinner. You sober up a bit and add, “The extra ration cards will be good, though. Right?”

He nods, “Yeah. I think it’s soup-er.” His eyes flick up to yours as they crinkle, the only sign that he finds himself amusing.

After dinner, Joel excuses himself to go work his overnight shift. When he leaves and you’re left along, the throbbing in your leg returns with a vengeance along with a mild fever. Your usually chilly apartment now feels stuffy and you have to remove all of your layers except your t-shirt to be even somewhat comfortable.

Worry creeps in as you sit there, alone and increasingly unwell. You long for the company of Joel or Tess, anyone to reassure you that you’re fine. But you’re alone and the dark thoughts creep in, whispering in your ear that whatever is brewing is not good. Unsure of what else to do, you slip in to bed, hoping that whatever this is will be better by morning.

******

You don’t wake for two days. Or at least, you have no real memory of the past 48 hours. Later, when the worst is over, Joel will tell you the details of that lapse in your memory. He’ll recount how you faded in and out of consciousness, sometimes submitting to your fever for so long that he wasn’t sure you were coming back. His voice will waver as he remembers how bad it got and how fragile you looked…

But for now, he stays by your side, foregoing his own health to make sure you stay alive. The first thing you remember is waking up to the sounds of Joel and Tess arguing in hushed tones.

“We need to get her to a doctor. Now.” Joel’s voice sounds strained, like he’s trying desperately not to lose it.

Tess still maintains her signature composure. “We can’t, Joel. It’s too late for that.”

Joel must make some kind of face because Tess sighs and re-words. “It’s too late to take her in because if we bring her to the hospital all they’ll focus on is her fever. They’ve put people down for way less. You know that.”

In your addled state, you wonder who they’re talking about. Your throat hurts to much to speak up though and ask.

“The doc will give us the meds. We’ve bribed him before.”

Tess shakes her head, “Antibiotics are on lockdown. Shipments have been delayed because of the weather. No one gets any without FEDRA knowing. Breaking in guarantees we get caught. We’re no good to her dead. ”

Joel scoffs, “So what do you suggest we do?”

“She rides it out.”

“She’s been ‘riding it out’ for two days. Look at her,” Joel’s voice gets closer as he peers down at you, “she’s fighting but she’s losing.”

Oh. Fever may have taken hold of you, making your brain fuzzy and concentration near impossible, but you understand now that you are the subject of their argument. For Joel to sound so forlorn you must look bad.

If you’re dead soon, you want to let them know to leave it and just let you slip away. Your well-being means nothing if it puts them in unnecessary danger. Rule be damned, they’re your family now and you care about them. If you’re being honest, you’ve cared about them since you met them. It breaks your heart thinking you won’t be able to tell them that now. It nearly kills you right then and there to know you won’t get the chance to tell Joel you love him…

Opening your mouth to articulate all of that takes great effort and when you do try and speak, all that comes out is a strangled groan. The two rush over, Tess sitting down beside you. She takes your hand, an uncharacteristic show of tenderness. Yep, you’re dying.

“You’re ok, kid,” she whispers, “you just have to hang in there.” It would be easy to ignore reality and blindly trust her. But you’ve always been stubborn and so you shake your head and continue trying to speak. Again, nothing comes out but garbled nonsense as you writhe around trying to make your limbs do what your brain wants.

You must look a sight because Joel lets his anger overflow. “Maybe you can sit here and watch her die, but I can’t.”Heavy footsteps and Tess yelling are all that you can focus on as you fade back into oblivion.

******

Living is hard and unconsciousness is addicting. Peaceful and cozy are feelings you can scarcely remember having. It would be easy to stay in that enveloping darkness but the feeling of the back of someone’s hand on your clammy forehead pulls you back to the realm of the living. You grumble weakly as you’re made to come to.

Everything is painful. Stabbing jolts of electricity radiate up your leg from the cut. Your chest is tight, making breathing troublesome and your eyes can barely stand the dim, watery sun coming through the shades of the window. Someone places a damp cloth on your forehead to keep the fever at bay. Still out of it, you try and swat it away.

A gentle hand grabs yours, shushing you. “It’s alright. It’s only me.”

Joel. Maybe you have died and this is heaven. The man you love by your side, nursing you so tenderly. It’s more than you could have ever hoped for. This might be the afterlife believers talk about if only you weren’t in so much pain. The neurons in your brain begin firing more rapidly as your fever dies down. They remind you that you and Joel aren’t lovers. Your cowardice, disguised as intelligence, has kept you from telling him how you feel.

“What’s happening?” Your voice comes out croaky and soft but at least it’s intelligible. The bed dips as Joel moves closer to you. As you peer up through barely opened eyelids you can see him leaning over you. His tired eyes look down at you as he caresses your hair.

“You got real sick, honey. That cut you got festered and turned into a fever. We thought we were gonna lose you.” The slight falter in his voice makes your already tight chest contract.

“How long was I out?”

“Three days. We got you some meds, though. You’re gonna be ok.” He says it firmly, which does some good in easing your worry.

Trying to open your eyes a bit more you continue your questioning, “Where did you get the antibiotics from?”

Joel hesitates, “Bill and Frank had some.”

You try and sit up, angry that he made that trip and put himself in danger. Even now, you can see the snow whipping around outside your window. Knowing he made the trek there and back through that storm makes you curse. Joel tuts and puts a gentle hand to your chest, keeping you down and resting.

“It’s done. No use getting angry about it now.”

You glare up at him even though you’re really just upset with yourself. “Why would you do something so stupid?”

His smiles peacefully down at you, exhausted but eyes bright. “We’re a team, remember?”

It’s too much for you to handle. You cover your face just in time to hide the angry, relieved and grateful tears that spring to your eyes. Silent sobs wrack your frame, making you seize with pain.

Joel pulls you into him, shushing you as he resumes stroking your hair. You hide your face in his side, trying to regain your composure. Crying shouldn’t be something you feel the need to earn. But you’re all sorts of broken, so you take this rare opportunity to not judge yourself and weep with abandon. You almost died, for Christ’s sake. Surely that warrants some show of emotion.

After a few minutes, the tears stop and your breathing calms. Peeking up, you see Joel has his eyes closed. His face is the most serene you’ve seen it in ages, most of the worry lines softened. There’s still a few that refuse to relax, though. The crease in between his eyebrows remains stubbornly indented. You gaze up at him as he continues to run soothing patterns along your back.

Feeling the weight of your stare, he opens his eyes. Coward that you are, you glance away. “Thank you,”is all you can mumble out as he gazes at you. After a moment, you add a shy, “I would do the same for you. You know that, right?”

Joel pulls you gently into him, almost to remind himself you’re still here with him and that the danger has passed. He nuzzles into your hair, murmuring an affectionate“I know, honey. I know.”

******

After a few more hours and another dose of antibiotics, you begin to feel more like yourself. Joel still won’t let you get out of bed yet, except for a trip to the bathroom for a quick shower. Even though you’ve been dead to the world for much of your ordeal, you’re quickly getting bored with bed rest. But you’ve learned long ago that resistance is futile with Joel. So you shower like a good patient, scowling as the water hits your scabbing cut.

Once you finish, Joel hops in and washes the grime and worry of the past three days off. As you settle back in bed, you can hear him singing softly to himself. Through the patter of the water you can hear his soft rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s Songbird. It’s one of your favorites, too, and you hum along as you settle back into your pillow.

After a few minutes, sleep still won’t come. You toss and turn as Joel finishes getting ready for bed. He comes in to find you still awake. “I thought I told you to get some sleep.” He says it like a loving mother gently scolding their rebellious child.

You flail as you try and get comfortable. You shoot back a moody, “But I’m just not tired.” Joel chuckles as he sits down into the arm chair next to your bed. He smooths back his wet hair and gives you a faux stern look. “Your body’s been through a lot. You need rest.”

“What are you doing?” you ask.

Joel looks confused, wondering what he did wrong. “Sorry I just thought I’d sleep here tonight in case you need anything. I can leave, though.”

“No!” you yell out, completely abandoning any hope of looking cool. You give him an apologetic smile, “I want you to stay but you’re not sleeping in that chair one more night.”

Joel glances to the spot on the bed beside you, then looks to you for confirmation. He sighs, a smile playing at his lips. “If I stay will you promise to go to sleep?”

You nod very seriously. “Of course.”

Joel grins, knowing you too well to believe you. “Liar,” he chuckles but still gets up and makes his way to the other side of the bed. You pull back the blankets so can get in, then cover him up. Settling on your side, you watch as he suddenly looks lost, unsure of what to do now. It’s cute, this powerful man rendered helpless by something as innocuous as sharing a bed.

You can’t help but laugh at him and he looks down at you, eyes wide. Taking pity on him, you make a suggestion. “If you’re not tired you could read to me.” Joel opens his mouth to refuse but you blurt out a quick, “I did almost die, you know.” He glares at you but his lip quirks up. He grabs the book from the other room then flops back down in bed, opening to a spot in the middle.

Frowning, you reach out to touch Joel’s arm. “Do you mind starting from the beginning?” He rolls his eyes but flips back to the first page. You grin triumphantly as you settle into his side. Joel places his arm around your shoulder as he begins to read. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife…”

His southern drawl mixed with the Romantic Era style of writing makes for an amusing but pleasant combination. After a few chapters, your eyes get heavy and Joel feels you nodding off against him. Jane has just been invited to Netherfield Park but even that can’t keep you awake. Joel puts the bookmark in to save your spot and places the novel on your bedside table.

You grumble in weak protest as he tucks you in and turns off the light. “We can keep reading tomorrow. But right now you’re going to sleep.” Joel lies down beside you and with the pale light of the moon through your curtains you can see him studying you. He caresses your face and you close your eyes, delighting in the sensation.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he whispers.

You force your eyes open, needing him to see the truth of it when you pledge a soft,“I won’t. I mean it.”

Joel nods gratefully and you reach out for him. He slides into your arms and you rest your chin on the top of his head. He’s watched over you for long enough. It’s your turn to take care of him and reassure him that, in this moment, you both are safe.

For most, an outright admission of affection is needed to understand how you feel about the other person. But you and Joel are cut from the same cloth, stubborn and slow to reveal your feelings. In this world, for people like you, ’I love yous’ are rare and replaced with actions and deeds.

You realize that even though you've never told Joel that you love him, you’ve shown it. Joel has been showing you all this time too and you were just too dull to realize it. While you know you’ll long to say the words to him soon, for now it’s enough to have him in your arms.

Joel’s breathing deepens and you feel him completely give himself over to sleep. Looking at his face bathed in the moonlight he looks like a new man. His edges soften and his vulnerability brims to the surface. It tugs at your heart and you understand how rare of a sight this is for Joel to allow anyone to see.

Smiling sleepily, you close your eyes and nestle into him. This feeling coursing through you is something foreign but familiar, an old friend you thought you had said your final goodbye to long ago. The love you have for Joel will leave you vulnerable. But it’s a price you’re willing to pay a thousand times over.

******

#im on a mission to make joel as soft as possible lol #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo #pedro pascal #allie writes

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idontliekmondays · 7 days ago

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the halifax mass shooting plot or der untergang

what was this? who planned it? where?

the halifax mass shooting plot was the idea that lindsay souvannarath, james gamble, and randall ’randy’ shepherd came up with to commit a mass shooting at a shopping centre in halifax, nova scotia, on valentine’s day.

more on who

lindsay souvannarath was 23 years old when she was arrested. she was born in chicago, illinois, on january 9, 1992, and lived there up until the time of the planned shooting. she pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit murder and was sentenced to life in prison with no chance of parole. she’s still serving her sentence, and her most recent request for appeal in 2019 was denied.

james gamble was 19 years old at the time of his death on february 12, 2015. he was born in halifax, nova scotia, on august 6, 1995. there doesn’t seem to be much information available about what was done with his remains after death.

randall ‘randy’ shepherd was 20 years old when he was arrested on february 13. he was born in victoria, british columbia, on july 4, 1994. shortly after his birth, he and his family moved to halifax, nova scotia. he pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit murder and was sentenced to 10 years in jail. he was released due to statutory release in 2021 after serving seven years and four months; however, he was ordered to stay off the internet and was to live in a halfway house in nova scotia.

how did randy and james meet?

both randy and james attended a high school located a short distance outside of halifax, which is where “they met and bonded over metal music, horror movies, marijuana, and a shared fascination with death and morbidity, often focusing on school shootings and mass murders.”

both were described as having increasing mental struggles following up to the incident.

as time passed, james considered committing a mass killing in halifax. he asked randy to be his partner in crime, who refused but continued to be a willing audience to his ideas.

how did lindsay meet them? what was her relationship with james like?

on december of 2014, james began to follow lindsay because of a “justgirlythings” meme she had posted onto her tumblr. it was captioned “not being able to live without your best friend” and was edited to have the columbine library photo underneath. they started messaging on facebook after this and formed a friendship quickly.

court documents state lindsay and james would repeatedly claim that they were adopting the personas of eric harris and dylan klebold, respectively. lindsay even said she felt the spirit of eric harris was taking over her body at times. they would refer to each other as reb and vodka and often speak of going “nbk” and quote passages to each other from the journals of the columbine shooters.

they also had a similar taste in music and lindsay introduced him to national socialist black metal.

their friendship blossomed into something more sexual that included sending nudes and sexting as they began to plan the shooting and then into something romantic as james began to show a lot of affection and attachment.

they expressed that they believed they were fated to each other and that their destiny was to commit this massacre and to die together. they “just felt like their relationship was destiny.”

the preparation

one of the first things they did was start thinking of possible locations. lindsay left most of that up to james. he came up with various ideas, such as a hospital, a library, and an elementary school, all of which lindsay disagreed with because she thought they would send the wrong message.

one location she ended up agreeing to was a mall.

“it was kind of this symbolism of western decadence and the modern world in general. just the idea of this place where people go to consume. it seemed like it would be a protest against capitalism, against consumerism, against greed.”

“i believe it was the film dawn of the dead that had zombies attacking the shopping mall, and it was supposed to be like this metaphor for our modern society and how obsessed with consumption it is. so i thought that would be perfect.”

in february of 2015, james and randy went to the halifax shopping centre and filmed videos of where the shooting was planned to happen. these were referred to as their “basement tapes.”

in one of these videos, they discussed how the temporary walls in the food court might block some of the shots, and randy stated that if at least one person from his high school was killed, the attack would be worth it. in another one of these, james calmly stares into the camera and says, “you're lucky i couldn’t get any more bullets.”

the plan

the mass shooting was to take place on valentines day, february 14, at the halifax shopping centre food court. the shopping centre was chosen with the intention to cause “mass panic.” (the date of the shooting was switched due to price increases on tickets. the original date was february 1st. james had the idea to change the date to valentines day because there would be more people in the food court and the time and he believed it would be more shocking.)

lindsay would travel by air to halifax to meet james on february 13.

james was to shoot both of his parents before lindsay arrived.

they would both then spend the night together in the gamble residence.

randy hoped to be shot and killed by james the same evening as a form of assisted suicide. (lindsay was not involved with this part of the plan). james wanted randy to make a video recording of the shooting instead of committing suicide.

the next day they would begin the shooting in the food court, which was the area they believed would provide them the most cover.

they were going to go into the food court bathrooms, change outfits, get their weapons and come out and open fire.

they were going to start the shooting by throwing molotov cocktails into the food court. (randy was to provide six bottles for the molotov cocktails.)

james was to arm himself with his father’s lever-action hunting rifle along with a hunting knife.

lindsay would be armed with his father’s single-action 16-gauge shotgun.

each was to wear previously selected death outfits that, in many ways, were chosen to pay tribute to the columbine shooters.

they wanted to shoot as many people as their ammunition allowed.

they were going to save their last bullets for themselves and “just like columbine” they would kneel facing each other and shoot themselves on the count of three.

what actually happened

the morning of feburary 12, 2015, lindsay snuck out of her family home and began the trip to halifax. she described herself as “very eager, very excited, very very thrilled to be leaving home.”

james then faltered in his plans to murder his parents and sent lindsay a facebook message that read, “i’m going to have to wait until tomorrow to kill them” and “you’ll have to stay at randy’s for the night.”

the same day of february 12, crime stoppers received an anonymous tip. a summary of the tip is as follows:

two people are posting on social media sites that they plan to shoot up the mall in halifax, nova scotia.

the two people are obsessed with school shootings.

a female is to leave chicago on a delta airlines flight to meet up with a male who has weapons for them to use.

the female is asian, known as lindsay, last name unknown but begins with “s”, she is approximately twenty-three years old, born 01-16-92 and is 5’3’’ tall and weighs 90lbs. lindsay has black shoulder length hair, which is dyed red right now and she wears brown framed glasses;

lindsay is friends with the male, james gamble;

lindsay has multiple social media accounts such as a facebook under the name “lindsay shubniggurath”, a tumblr account under the name “cockswastika”, and skype account under the name “thenewheresy”.

the male is james gamble, white male, nineteen years old, born 08-06-95, and is described as very skinny with dark brown hair parted to one side;

james gamble lives in halifax, nova scotia;

the anonymous source has not met james gamble in person;

james gamble is lindsay’s friend from online;

james has several social media accounts such as a facebook account under the name “james gamble” and a tumblr account under the name “shallowexistences”.

the canadian border services agency was contacted and issued a lookout to their agents to identify anyone who might match the description of the female.

soon officers arrived at the gamble residence in timberlea, nova scotia. james was contacted by telephone and suggested to exit the residence, which he agreed to do. instead, he committed suicide by shooting himself in the head with a single bullet from his father’s hunting rifle.

as previously agreed on, shepherd arrived at the stanfield international airport by city bus to pick up lindsay. he messaged lindsay and reiterated that james was behind on schedule killing his parents and that she would have to stay with him for the night.

lindsay landed in halifax at midnight, february 13th. at 12:10am she presented herself to primary immigration and spoke to a CBSA agent. the national lookout did not raise a flag at the time.

the CBSA agent was concerned by lindsay regardless. she communicated to him that she flew to canada on a one way ticket, had only $33, and did not know where her boyfriend lived. the agent thought that she may have been attempting to bring drugs into canada and noted that “she had very bad teeth and her complexion was very bad with scars on her face. this made me think that she may be on drugs.”

the agent directed lindsay to a secondary immigration examination as well as a secondary customs inspection.

she was questioned at secondary immigration by an agent. the agent questioned lindsay and confirmed that she didn’t know where she was going, had a small amount of money, and did not have a return ticket. lindsay communicated that she was in halifax to have a “memorable” valentine’s day weekend with her boyfriend who she had previously met online. she further communicated that randy was at the airport to pick her up, which was confirmed by CBSA officials.

the contents of her luggage were searched. she had little with her, aside from some makeup, her death outfit, and two books on serial killers.

while she was being dealt with by agents, officials reviewed the national lookout and determined that lindsay may be the person of interest.

police soon arrived at the airport and quickly arrested both randy and lindsay.

their online trail

they left a steady trail of posts referencing the planned shooting. there was a playlist posted on lindsay's tumblr blog to “cement the aesthetic” along with countless other posts hinting towards their plan. lindsay also queued her manifesto to post on her blog after the shooting.

my main source

#tccblr #i took inspo from that one kim veer post for formatting this

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withwritersblock · 19 days ago

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Daylight

~Daylight by Taylor Swift~

Author's Note: requested! I love Nathan Mackinnon Summary: erm friends to strangers to friends again to lovers? Warnings: swearing maybe? Word Count: 5,431 Nathan Mackinnon x fm!reader

It was a huge life decision that she was convinced was going to fail miserably. Moving to the States felt like an awful decision but she was tired of staying in the same place she has lived in her whole life.

Her newly found ex-boyfriend also had lived there his entire life and it showed. There was never any desire to grow or change. There was no way she wanted to stay in Nova Scotia her whole life. Despite it being one of the most gorgeous places in the world, there was plenty gorgeous places in the States too.

She sent her resume to probably a hundred different places and Denver ended up being the best option. They offered the most travel money and salary. It seemed perfect. Her apartment was only two blocks away from her job and on nice days she was more than willing to walk.

Today, it was April and her apartment was covered in boxes. The movers were able to bring everything into the apartment but after that there was nothing they could do. She was making good money, great money. Some of the best money she’s ever made in her entire life so she might’ve went a little big on the apartment; and a little big on the furniture.

Instead of happily unpacking, she found herself sobbing on the floor after she pulled out a framed photo of herself with her ex. It was something she either accidentally packed our the movers did. She was not sure.

They had been together since they were seventeen and they broke up a decade later. It was a lot of her life that she sometimes wished she could get back. There was times she wished she ended it sooner. Because who waits a decade to even bring up marriage.

She got out and that’s all that matters.

Wiping the tears from her face she stood up from the floor and stumbled towards her bathroom, the only room that was semi-unpacked. She decided to shower and get a freshstart on the day. Even though it was well into the afternoon.

After another hour she decided to head down to the coffee shop that was only two buildings over. They were nearly a twenty-four hour place, which is just the coffee shop she needs.

It was starting to get dark as it was close to six at night, but the sun was setting over the mountains, casting a pink and purple hue to the sky. The sidewalks were suprisingly busy with tourists. It was evident by the way they were taking pictures and speeding down the sidewalks towards their next destination.

She smiled towards herself as she stepped inside the coffee shop and it wasn’t crowded. Maybe people didn’t have as big of a caffeine addiction like she did. She walked behind the small line towards the counter, three blonde men stood in front of her and she kept her distance.

She was tuning out their voices as she was listening to the Taylor Swift song playing in the background. After the last one ordered, the three of them erupted into laughter.

“New contract, Caler, thanks for the coffee,” one of them said as they smacked their hand against his upper back. They all barked out a laugh before the first two wandered towards a table near the center of the shop.

The man in front of her, Caler apparently, paid for the coffees before he followed his friends.

The barista smiled towards her, looking somewhat exhausted. She felt a little guilty now that she was there. “Can I get an iced lavender latte to go?” Y/N asked her. She nodded immediately grabbing the largest size clear cup and started writing on it.

“Shut up man,” she heard one of them say from the corner but she chose to try her best to ignore it. She handed her card over to the barista and quickly paid for it, keeping her gaze towards her. “Nate don’t be weird,” she heard again.

She took her card back and subconsciously glanced towards the three of them. She stopped short, holding her card in the air while she met one of their gazes. A man she hasn’t seen in eleven years.

Well, she’s seen him but not like this. Not face to face or in public. He was much older and had a different smile but it was Nathan.

She thought Denver was too big to run into him, especially since he was dominating the NHL at the moment.

“Y/N,” he let out barely above a whisper as he crossed around the table, moving quickly towards her. Her eyes widened as she slowly put her card back into her wallet.

“Nathan,” she let out with a soft grin.

“What are you doing in Denver?” he let out excitedly, his hands were interlocked; almost as if he was trying to decide if he should hug her. She slipped her wallet back into her hoodie pocket as she stepped away from the counter.

Glancing towards the other two boys whom she assumed were his teammates. She was a Canadiens fan since that’s who her parents root for. But she was never obsessed with the sport. Based off of the decor in the coffee shop, she could see from behind Nathan’s head that she should know who they are.

Swallowing hard, “I just moved here for a job,” she explained. His eyes widened as he smiled.

“Where’s Carter?” Nathan asked while whipping his head around to see the two guys staring towards him. He waved his hand at them hoping they would stop.

Her mouth fell open while she took in a sharp breath, “We broke up a few months ago,” she let out.

He pulled his head back while nodding; crossing his arms over his chest. “That sucks, I’m sorry. You guys were together for a long time,”

She chuckled while tilting her head to the side, “Too long, but it’s all good. Needed a fresh start,” she explained while brushing a piece of hair away from her face. He nodded before pressing his lips together.

“Denver’s a great place for that,” he mumbled.

The barista called out Cale’s name and the two other guys jumped up from their seats to go grab their drinks. They were all hot coffee in to go cups.

“It is,” she mumbled as she continued to look into his eyes, “H-how’s the season going? You know I don’t really pay much attention-”

“Still a Habs fan?” Nathan asked as Cale handed him his drink. She smiled and nodded. “Well, we’re heading to the playoffs in a week so we’ll see.”

“Better than the Habs,” she muttered jokingly. He chuckled as he continued to look into her eyes. “That’s great, I hope it works out for you guys,”

“Tha-thanks,” he mumbled.

“Nate, we gotta head out,” the other guy said walking up behind them, “Got to get to the arena. Why don’t you get her number and call her after our meeting?” he teased as he pushed past them. Nathan chuckled as watched them walk away before he met her gaze again.

“That’s Gabe, doesn’t know how to switch off being captain,” he explained. She smiled as she looked into his light eyes again, something in them made her heart flutter. He looks so good.

“I see,” she mumbled as she saw the barista hold out her drink towards her, “Thank you,” she said as she gladly took the drink. Nathan took in a sharp breath as he pulled his phone from his pocket.

“My number’s changed a few times since secondary school,” he explained as he held out an empty contact in his phone. She took a hold of it and added herself to his phone. “Just in case you need some friends in the city, I’ve got a few to spare,” he continued meeting her eye.

“Thanks Nathan, I guess I’ll see you,” she muttered. He nodded before he walked out of the coffee shop. She watched him leave and felt herself overthinking the conversation. Did that really just happen?

“I’m so sorry but how do you know Nathan Mackinnon?” the barista said as she leaned over the counter. Y/N pulled herself out of the small trance she was in and looked towards the dark brown haired girl beside her.

“We grew up together back in Canada. I haven’t seen him since we were sixteen,” Y/N explained, shocked to say the least. The barista smiled widely.

“Wow, that’s like-so cool,” she said while shaking her head. She turned around and immediately started cleaning something.

Y/N nodded with a hum falling from her lips, she continued to walk out of the coffee shop to head towards her apartment again.

~~~

It had been a few days since she ran into Nathan and they had been texting constantly since Nathan was incredibly busy with the end of the season coming up and their first round in the playoffs against the Predators.

Her apartment was slowly starting to come together. Majority of her furniture arrived and she convinced the movers to place it exactly where she needed it to be. Even after a handful of “wait can you actually put it on that side, thank you.” She hated being that person but she didn’t have anyone to help her move them.

The thought of asking Nathan to help crossed her mind but it was such a difficult and essential time in his life. They were in Minnesota for the last game of the season and even in the text messages it was obvious that he was nervous. But he was Nathan Mackinnon and he was not supposed to be nervous.

For the first time by herself, she decided to sit down and watch a hockey game. Her former boyfriend was a huge hockey fan, specifically the Pittsburg Penguins. Because he was such a nice guy he had the multi-broadcast so she could watch the Habs play as well. Whenever they were playing at the same time.

She sat at the center of her new couch and draped a light pink blanket over her lap and she turned on the local Altitude broadcast. She put on her Lehkonen jersey that her father gave her after she said she was moving to Denver.

He told her that if his two favorite people were moving to Denver at least she should have his favorite player’s jersey. He was joking mostly, but her mother didn’t find it that funny. But she promised that she would wear it every time she watched a game or went to one. Especially since her dad actually was close to heartbroken when he was traded.

The game started and she saw Nathan take the draw. She found herself smiling. She was also excited to watch the game again. She hasn’t been excited to watch the game since she was a kid. The joy of watching it with her dad and bonding with him over it was everything. Except Carter took that away from her. The game was ruined for her because of the rage he would get every time they made a bad play or lost the game.

But she was alone, a glass of rosè in her hand and her dad’s favorite player on her jersey. The apartment was nearly pitch black and the only light was the TV screen.

The game ended with a difficult loss but she was happy to actually have enjoyed the game.

All she knew was that the next set of games were going to be hard and she was excited to watch and excited to talk to Nathan about it. The more she thought about him over the last few months, the more she realized how close they used to be.

There was a time in her life where Nathan was always around and they were inseparable. Until he joined Halifax and he became a future star. It wasn’t intentional with how he left, he tried to reach out and be there but his life was going warp speed and hers was slowly moving on.

She never forgot about him and he clearly hasn’t forgotten about her. She took in a deep breath before she stood up from the couch. Placing her empty glass onto the coffee table before she folded the blanket and draped it over the top of the couch.

Her father started to video call her and she pulled her head back for a moment. Never someone to call this late, let alone call her ever. She answered it and held it ahead of her waiting for him to show up on the screen. He smiled widely as he saw the Habs jersey on her body.

“Were you watching hockey?” he asked. She nodded as her lips curled upward into a small grin.

“I ran into someone,” she muttered. Her dad’s eyes squinted while he furrowed his eyebrows. “Nathan,” she let out simply. He tilted his head to the side for a second before his mouth fell open.

“Our Nate?” he let out. She wasn’t sure if he meant Nova Scotia’s or their little social circle.

“Yeah, literally two days after I got here. How crazy is that,” she expressed.

“Man, you guys haven’t talks since he joined the Mooseheads, wow,” he let out. Something felt off with his tone, nearly sarcastic.

“Why are you talking like that?”

“I’m not talking like anything,” he said, pouting his bottom lip slightly.

“Dad,” she nearly scolded.

He took a long dramatic inhale before shutting his eyes, “Nate told his mom about running into you and then she called your mother and we’ve been waiting for you to bring it up to talk about it,” he opened his eyes and glanced away from his phone, most likely her mother.

“I forget how tiny that town is sometimes,” she muttered before she ran her hand across her eyes.

“Are you guys talking?” her mother shouted, it sounded faint through the phone.

“We’ve been texting but he’s busy-you know- being a professional athlete.” she explained while laughing nervously.

~~~

The series against the Predators ended with a sweep for them which led to a long break until the next one for the Avalanche. Which led to Nathan coming over to help finish decorating her apartment. Aka, she went on a late night shopping spree while wine drunk and now her living room is full of boxes once again.

The doorbell rang and she felt her body jolt. She walked towards the door, taking in a deep breath. She pulled the door open and Nathan was standing there holding a bottle of wine. He smiled widely once he met her gaze.

“Hey,” he mumbled. She smiled as she stepped aside letting him into her apartment.

“Hey, you didn’t have to bring anything,” she expressed, referencing the very expensive bottle. He glanced down, smirking.

“It’s actually not meant to be drunk tonight,” he let out. Meeting her eye, she nodded as she watched him delicately place it down onto the counter. Squinting her eyes suspiciously as she pursed her lips forward. He pressed his lips together as he continued to look into her eye.

“I know it was a long time ago but I’ve been doing some thinking. The last time we hung out before I started playing for Halifax we talked about what would happen when I joined the NHL. Do you remember?” he asked, a smile toying to his lips. She shook her head as she leaned against the counter. “We talked about what would happen if I get a chance to win the Cup.”

She nodded, “Oh yeah,” she said with a smile.

“We talked about if I win, we’d drink a $500 bottle of wine and celebrate just you and me,” he expressed. She glanced down towards the wine before flickering her eye back towards him. Furrowing her eyebrows slightly, she tilted her head to the side.

“Every playoff run I’ve thought about that conversation. Even though you were back in Nova Scotia, I still thought about it,” he explained as he tapped his fingers against the countertop. “This was the first season I bought a bottle. I bought it two days before we ran into one another at the coffee shop,”

“Wait, so you bought it before you knew I moved here?” she mumbled.

“If we won the Cup, you were going to be one of the first people I called,” he explained as he smirked towards her. She nodded as she took in sharp breath, “Anyway, let’s get to decorating.” he said switching the subject quickly. She pursed her lips forward as she delicately took a hold of the bottle. Slowly, she delicately ran her thumb across the label, hoping she would get a chance to open it with him.

“I’m looking forward to opening it,” she let out nonchalantly as she put the wine bottle onto a different more secluded counter.

He chuckled nervously as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Gotta win the Cup first,” he mumbled.

“You will, Nathan,” she said with a wide smile. He smirked as he stumbled backwards towards her living room. “I honestly don’t remember what I bought, so this should be fun,” she sat down in front of one of the boxes as he followed in pursuit. Without hesitation, he ripped open the box. He pulled out a picture frame an empty picture frame.

“An empty frame?” he let out while chuckling. She rolled her eyes playfully as she attempted to rip open the box in front of her.

“I told you I was wine drunk,” she defended as she finally ripped open the box. She let out a sudden laugh as the blanket she purchased came into full view. It was a red and white Habs blanket. She pulled it out and held it towards Nathan. His mouth fell open as he giggled.

“You’re going to have to put that away when I come over,” he said while shaking his head.

“Oh, just wait,” she teased while raising her eyebrows. She stood up from the ground and quickly sped walk down the hallway towards her bedroom. After a minute she returned to her living room holding up her Habs jersey against her chest. Nathan looked up towards her giggled.

“Who is it?” he asked while moving his head back and forth trying to see the number on the side. Spinning it around, she showed the Lehkonen on the back. He clapped his hands together while tilting his head back.

“Now you’re just rubbing it in my face!” he let out while laughing.

“At least he plays on your team now,” she said as she sat down on the floor again, delicately placing the jersey on the couch directly behind her.

“Fucking great guy,” he let out while raising his eyebrows.

The rest of the evening was filled with giggling and showing off the ridiculous decor she bought. It nearly reminded her of how they were when they were teenagers. It was as if there wasn’t a decade between the last time they hung out like this.

It’s been years since the last time she felt so giddy. It was almost impossible to let him leave. They hovered at her door for several minutes before he slipped out of the apartment. Hovering for a long time, lot of intense eye contact. Subtle smirks and lack of distance.

~~~

Tonight was a roller coaster of emotions. It was game five against the St. Louis Blues and Nathan had a hat trick and an assist. It should’ve been more than enough to push the Avs to the third round. Except the Blues tied it late and won it in overtime.

She watched the game from her couch, despite Nathan telling her she could hang out with the WAGs. She declined because it felt weird to her since she wasn’t a part of the club. She had her Habs blanket wrapped around her shoulders, squeezed tightly to her chest just beneath her chin.

Her gaze shifted towards the bottle on the counter a few feet away. Knowing that they will get to open that bottle this season. The post-game show was playing in the background but she was only half listening as she was scrolling through her Twitter feed. Most of it was about anything but hockey, it was a decent distraction.

Her eyes widened as her phone started to vibrate in her hands, Nathan was calling her. Her lips curled upward as she saw his name, she knew he wasn’t going to be in a great mood but she answered it anyway.

“Hey,” she mumbled.

“Hey, can I see you?” he asked, his voice was grogging and raspy. It was sudden but she hummed unsure of how to reply, she couldn’t tell how he was truly feeling. “Okay, I’ll be over in like ten,” he said before he ended the call. She pulled the phone away from her ear, staring towards it for a moment before she delicately placed it beside her.

She took a hold of the TV remote and put on New Girl to have in the background. She kept snuggling the blanket in the pitch black apartment, the TV being the only bit of light.

Her phone buzzed beside her and she glanced down to see a text from her dad. She smiled as she lifted her phone to read the message: Give Nate a hug for us, he’s got the next one.

She replied quickly before she turned off her phone and wandered towards her kitchen. She reached into the freezer and pulled out a small pint of ice cream. Quickly, she took a hold of a spoon and began to eat some of the ice cream before Nathan arrived. He was very determined on sticking his diet so he would not be phased by it even if she was eating it in front of him.

After a few minutes, there was several knocks on the door and she set the pint down onto the counter. She walked towards the door and pulled it open. Nathan stood in the doorway, he looked exhausted. His lips fell into a small pout as he looked into her eyes. She reached her hands around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace.

He loosely wrapped his arms around her waist as he slowly stepped inside gliding her inside. The door shut behind them as he continued to hold her to his chest.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she whispered as she started running her fingers through the ends of his hair for a moment. He pulled away looking into her eyes, as if for the first time.

“I’m just glad you moved here,” he let out as he continued to look into her eye. She furrowed her eyebrows, confusion written all over her features. His lips curled up into a small grin, “It was a tough night but next game we’ll win,” he let out.

“That’s it?” she asked suspiciously.

“We lost, did it suck, absolutely, but there’s next game and we’re winning it. Simple,” he explained before he slowly slipped away from her grasp towards the couch.

“You used to go silent after games you lost. There was a time you didn’t talk for nearly two days after you lost a regular season game back before the Mooseheads,” she expressed as she quickly reached for her ice cream and walked towards the couch again. He let out a dry laugh before he rubbed his nose.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Y/N, I’ve grown,” he said sarcastically while he took a hold of the Habs blanket and draped it over his lap, “You’re lucky Drouin’s over there,” he muttered as he held it open for her to sit beside him. Delicately, he laid it over her lap.

Every times the Hab’s were even slightly brought up, he had to have a dig towards the fact that she was a fan, always hinting that she should convert to an Avs fan. Even left her a gift of Lehkonen’s Avs jersey on her doorstep. Said that Lehky’s gonna be sticking around, so you better get an updated jersey.

“It’s good to see you… like that,” she expressed, finding it difficult to get the right words out.

“I would do the silent thing for a long time in the league. I would just get so mad that it was easier to stay quiet than talk,” he said as he held his hand out towards her. She stared towards him mildly concerned. He stole the spoon from her hand and took barely any ice cream and brought it towards his mouth.

“Did you just-”

“Yup,” he teased before he dropped the spoon back into the pint. She chuckled as she took a much bigger spoonful and brought it towards her own lips. “I’ve gotten a lot better and letting things go,” he continued. He took in a sharp breath, “Letting go most things,” he let out as he met her gaze for only a second before looked back towards the screen.

Swallowing hard, she stared towards his side profile. She was always fond of his nose, despite how crooked it looked since his teenage years, he was elegant. “What haven’t you let go?” she poked.

Looking back towards her, meeting her eye he fought the words he wanted to say. “It’s stupid,” he dropped his gaze towards his lap.

“Say it,” she pressed as she leaned forward, placing the ice cream onto the coffee table.

“The night we talked about the Cup and the wine bottle or whatever back then, I remember that was the moment I realized I liked you,” he expressed, “I didn’t really realize it fully but that night I felt something for you I never felt before and then we never hung out again. Which was my bad so I-I guess that I never let go of the fact of what would have happen if I told you, I guess,”

She smiled softly, staring down towards her lap. “What do you think would’ve happened?” she asked, sliding towards him slightly. He tilted his head back against the top of the couch.

“Honestly, we probably would’ve gotten together and I probably would’ve ruined it,” he ran his fingers through his hair, awkwardly.

“Why would you say that?” she pressed further turning her body towards him, leaning her head against the top of the couch. He turned his head, meeting her eye.

“Same reason why I stopped reaching out, being away from you would’ve been too hard,” he expressed. She nodded as she continued looking into his eye.

~~~

She was on the couch watching Nathan raise the Cup. He was crying tears of joy with the horrendous scraggly beard on his face. The Stanley Cup champion hat on his head, he had achieved his childhood dream. The summer of celebrations was about to happen. She wiped her hands across her cheeks, clearing the tears from her skin before she stood up.

She took a hold of the wine bottle and placed it into the fridge because who likes warm wine?

A smile formed to her lips as the Avalanche jersey on her frame was something she never thought she would wear. Especially with how serious her dad was about the Habs. But she knew that he was rooting for Nathan and so was she.

She sat back on the couch and laid down as she watched the remainder of the broadcast, Nathan’s interview, and the team photo. An audible laugh fell from her lips after she watched Nicolas Aubė-Kubel drop the Cup. Everyone’s face was ridiculous.

She reached for her phone to see a text from Nathan: I can’t wait to be in Denver to celebrate with you.

The following morning she awoke to several missed called from Nathan almost as if he spent most of the night trying to get a hold of her. She rolled her eyes playfully as she began to call him back as she stumbled towards her kitchen and her coffee maker.

It took a handful of rings before he answered.

“Hey,” his voice was nearly gone, so hoarse it was barely audible.

“Hey champion,” she teased.

“Still does not feel real,” he let out.

“Denver was crazy last night, they’re excited for you guys to bring it home,” she explained. He chuckled.

“Can’t wait to see you,” he let out, “-And that wine bottle because it fucking happened and we are fucking celebrating,”

It was that same night and she has spent most of the day simply waiting for Nathan. Ever since game five against the Blues, they started flirting more and the tension between them was getting more and more intense.

It was hard to decipher exactly what was the tension from, lust or longing. It was impossible but tonight was the night she was going to try and dissect it and figure it out. She ran her fingers through her recently styled hair and stared into her reflection, trying to decide if she was happy with the way she looked.

It didn’t matter as Nathan rang her doorbell three times. She leaped out of the bathroom and jogged down towards her front door. She pulled it open and smiled towards him. Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. A giggle fell from her lips as slowly glided her inside of the apartment.

“It was better than I ever could’ve imagined,” he mumbled against her hair. “Wish you were there to experience it,”

She slowly pulled away, meeting his gaze as she rested her hands on the base of his neck, “I’ll be there for the next one,” she let out. He smirked as his gaze flickered towards her lips for much longer than he would like to admit.

“Yeah?” he let out. She nodded, keeping his gaze towards her lips. “Where’s that bottle?” he said slowly slipping away from her grasp. Perhaps in the need of some liquid courage.

She pointed towards the fridge and he immediately pulled it open to look towards the bottle that’s been on his mind for over a decade. He pulled it out and delicately rested it onto the counter. She had already placed two glasses onto the counter as he was fetching the bottle.

He popped it open, a grin wide on his lips. They giggled as he happily poured two large glasses of wine. He placed it back down as he slid the glass towards her. He brought it towards his lips at the same time as she did and they both took a long sip. It was probably the fanciest wine she’s ever had. He shut his eyes content as he took in a long breath.

It had been several hours later and safe to say they were giggling and incredibly wine drunk. They were laid across her bed, nearly a bottle and a half shared between them, both of them were quite the lightweight.

“No-no cause look I’ve got a bruise from that hug-alright!” he let out while laughing, he tossed his body to the side to try and find the bruise from the impact, he was unsuccessful, it just ended in more fits of laughter.

They slipped in and out of different conversations as they were sprailedd out on her bed, distant at times and really close at others. In this moment it was one of those times where they were incredibly close. Their nose bumping at times from how close they were.

“When I moved here, I genuinely didn’t think I would see you,” she expressed. He hummed as he kept his gaze on her lips, his bright red cheeks were not hiding the fact of how intoxicated he was. Her rambling words were a sign of hers. “Like it didn’t even cross my mind that you lived here because it had been so long but I’m so glad I ran into you,”

“Me too,” he let out.

He reached over towards her and took a hold of her chin as he leaned towards her kissing her delicately. It wasn’t urgent but so delicate that it was almost a confession of love in the process.

He pulled away, keeping a small distance between their lips. A smile formed to her lips before she leaned towards him, kissing him again. She slowly rolled onto her back allowing him to climb on top of her.

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