#the mere thought of stepping foot into that work place and seeing their faces makes me sick

[cheekblush]

aw kathi im so sorry this happened to you :( I can understand that some workplaces are just so toxic and there will always be coworkers and even bosses who are just jealous lmao😭 but I’m so confident that you will be able to find something else if you want to quit. You’re very smart, and you’re such a sweet girl. I hope that you know that and that you don’t let those little bitches make you think otherwise 💗 this also might sound a bit cliché, but almost being at your 30s doesn’t mean it’s over! You’re just getting started, and I can’t wait to see what great things life has in store for you❤️❤️❤️ love you so much Kathi💗 I hope you feel better, I’ll always be here ^__^💗

gabby my sweetheart!!! 💓💓💓 you can’t even imagine how much this message means to me especially coming from you!! 🥹💘 i really think you’re my longest mutual on here since most of my long time mutuals have sadly already deactivated 🥲 so to read these words of support from you really means the world to me!!! 🥺💖 i appreciate it so, sooooooo much thank you endlessly angel!!! 🫂 your message really cheered me up and gave me so much reassurance. i just thought i’d have my life figured out by now but it rather feels like i have nothing figured out at all. but you’re right, my life is only beginning not ending i have so much more to look forward to. and i can’t let this job and these phonies rob me of my happiness‼️sending you a million kisses and hugs my love!! really, truly, wholeheartedly thank you soooooooo much for your support and encouragement!! i genuinely appreciate and cherish it!! i wish you only the very best at all times and hope you’re doing well 🫶🏻💞🪽🪷💫🍓🧸💗🎐✨

[akixa]

Throughout || GunxF!Reader

At this point I'm just writing what I just dream...

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄, ⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂

⊹₊꒷︶꒷꒦‧₊˚⊹⊹₊꒷︶꒷꒦‧₊˚⊹⊹₊꒷︶꒷꒦‧₊˚⊹⊹₊꒷︶꒷꒦‧₊˚⊹

As the wife of Yamazaki Yuzuru, the heir of the powerful Yamazaki Syndicate in Japan, you are also known as the White Ghost. The news of your marriage to Gun Park came as a shock to many, as there was no prior announcement of the wedding, leading to speculation and surprise within your social circle.

Your relationship with Gun dates back to your childhood, as you both have known each other since the age of 10. Despite being the same age, Gun exudes a sense of maturity, and the strong bond between you has only grown over the years. He has always been a constant presence, following you wherever you go, and at school, the two of you are inseparable. While others may view you as mere classmates casually discussing homework and projects, in private, Gun demonstrates his affection by gently patting your cheek, kissing you on the forehead, and secretly placing a small flower on your bag.

As you settled into the rhythm of high school, you never expected to encounter Gun again, especially since he attended a different school and lived further away. However, one day, as you sat in your classroom, Gun casually strolled in with a vibrant bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand. Placing it delicately on your desk, he swiftly made his exit, leaving a faint blush lingering on his cheeks unnoticed by you as you marvelled at the beautiful blooms.

As time drifted by, you found yourself perched on the school rooftop engaged in deep conversation with Gun. During this exchange, he unexpectedly broached the subject of accompanying him to Korea, as he had been presented with a job opportunity there. After careful consideration, you concluded that you were committed to completing your college education in Japan, where you were already in your third year, and would soon be graduating. Beside you, Gun nodded in understanding as you pondered the potential outcome of his departure for Korea. Uncertain about how you would fare without him, an unsettling feeling nestled deep in your thoughts.

As you were lost in thought, he suddenly noticed a frown forming on your face. Worried that he might have upset you with his question, he gently reached out and softly brushed his fingers against your cheek, guiding your gaze to meet his. Cupping your face tenderly, he proceeded to caress your cheek with gentle affection. You were looking into each other's gaze.

“Once you go to Korea, will you come back to visit here?���

“Of course.”

He holds you so gently in that moment, forgetting everything except the moment you feel a soft touch on your lips, feeling your heart melodies match with Gun’s heartbeat as you slowly close your eyes and feel the embrace of each other.

As you strolled down the dimly lit hallway, the rhythmic tap of your footsteps reverberated off the walls. It had been five long years since you had lost touch with Gun. Upon completing your studies, you made a life-altering decision to venture to Korea in search of him. Stepping foot in a new country was an overwhelming experience, and it was filled with a mix of excitement and trepidation. Despite exchanging letters for a year, Gun remained silent, never acknowledging any of your heartfelt attempts to reconnect.

Currently, you are walking through the hallway of the HNH company, searching for a meeting room for a gathering of distinguished members. Due to your expertise in the field of marketing, Charles Choi hired you to make a favorable impression, and you have been working for him for a month.

As you arrive at the meeting, you already see Charles Choi sitting while typing on his laptop, next to him is his daughter Crystal doing something on her phone; and next to her is a pink-haired guy. You last heard that guy is a famous Korean idol. Lastly, on the other side of the table is a blonde guy talking to a pink guy who's not interested in the topic.

Upon your arrival, a blonde guy notices you entering the room, and in the blink of your eyes, he suddenly appears in front of you.

“Well, hello there, sugarplum. I'm Goo Kim, and it is a very pleasure to meet a beautiful lady.” Goo grabs your right hand and kisses behind it, making a smooch sound.

You look at him unimpressed and slightly disgusted, but you forcefully put a fake smile on your face and introduce yourself to him.

“Hello, I'm (name); it's nice to meet you too.” Smiling at him, you quickly retreat your hand and wipe the kiss away. Goo tries to take a closer look at your face, making you step backwards to bump into someone behind you.

You feel a soft hand touch on your shoulder, pulling you closer to them.

“Your bad breath will suffocate her, Goo. Back away.” A deep voice came out of nowhere. You look behind to see a black-haired guy with sunglasses on with scars between his eyes. You feel possessive toward this guy. How intriguing this is.

As you keep looking at him bickering with Goo. You took a chance to look underneath the sunglasses and noticed a UI eye was already looking down at you. Surprisingly, you only know one person who has black eyes and white pupils and is a Gun.

A cough from Charles signals you three to take a seat and start the meeting now.

After a meeting, everybody left the meeting room except you, and the sunglasses guy filled up the silence between you two. Your eyes widen as you look at the guy in front of you now, back pressed on your chair, a large hand gripping your shoulder, not too harsh to create a bruise.

“Thought I will never see you, Gun.”

Gun removes his sunglasses, showing off his UI eyes. Looking down at your small figure.

“You… Why are you here? ”

“What else? I'm also here to work.”

“Work here? If I were you, I would leave this place already for safety reasons.”

“Then why wouldn't you? And why are you not sending letters anymore? Don't you want me anymore..?”. You look at him with teary eyes. Feeling unpleasant through your chest when you see Gun's irritated face.

He let out a deep sigh and tenderly brushed away the tears that trickled down your cheeks. In that moment, his gentle touch made you feel as though you were being enveloped by the same warmth and care as you did many years ago.

“Believe me or not, but I did send you letters back. You are the one who didn't send it back to me.”

“What do you mean? I didn't get any… Don't play with me, Gun; you know I hate games.”

“I'm not joking.”

“Then how come you didn't visit me? You said you would...“

“I did, but work caught me and is your safety too. If I visit you, the enemies of mine will come at you and take you away from me. I was glad to know your position is safe, but the place you are working at is in danger.”

“Oh,...” As you looked down, a pang of guilt washed over you as you found yourself questioning Gun's true feelings for you. However, as you gazed back into his eyes, you were met with a warmth, adoration, and unmistakable love that instantly dispelled your doubt. The guilt in your chest gave way to a fluttering feeling of excitement and hope as your mind wandered, envisioning a future filled with happiness and love shared between the two of you.

He gave you a small smile as he leaned down to kiss you on your forehead before leaving the room all by yourself, a blushing mess.

“See you tonight, sweetheart.”

And that night in Gun’s apartment is the best moment together with him, tangled around on the bed, lips crashing together, exploring bodies, and whispering about how you two miss each other. Another year with him again.

As the years passed, both of you still worked for the same company. But Gun is busier than you being the bodyguard for Charles and his daughter and finding a next successor for him. The only time you two can see each other is at night at home, and on his day off, he sometimes spares time for you to get smooches, dates, cuddles, or anything in the short time with him.

When Gun received the news of your retirement, he rushed to his apartment to discuss the matter with you. However, he was left speechless when you revealed that you were pregnant. In a moment of shock, he stood still, unable to find the right words. You gently tried to get his attention, but then he slowly embraced you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to his chest. He held you with tenderness and affection, expressing his emotions wordlessly.

He is completely open to the idea of starting a family with you. In fact, he was overjoyed to embrace fatherhood and is now contemplating proposing to you at an earlier time, envisioning a little version of you both happily playing around the house. Speaking of homes, he even expressed interest in adding a larger, more luxurious residence to the list of potential purchases.

In this new spacious house, you find yourself cradling your daughter as she peacefully sleeps on your lap while you immerse yourself in the pages of a captivating book. Surprisingly, your daughter bears an uncanny resemblance to Gun, except for her eyes, which mirror your own as you gaze at Gun with affection. It's truly heartwarming and endearing.

Behind you, you hear footsteps approaching you. Gun see and your daughter having a comfortable time. You gesture at him to keep quiet, pointing at your daughter, who is still sleeping on your lap. He quietly made his way to you, kissing you on your forehead and his hand caressing your daughter's cheeks, sleeping figure.

"Her cheeks are plum."

"You mean she's cute."

"She is. She seems tired. What did she do all day?"

"Running around here and there." You let out exhausted sighs, making Gun chuckle at his daughter's behavior. Admiring you and the life you both created together. He glimpse at your ring finger the small diamond on the middle shining brightly reminding him that you are his wife and no one else.

“Tell Goo to stop stealing our daughter to sell drugs.”

“Will do.”

He kiss your forehead as you three proceed your evening together cuddling.

Ꮺ .

[verypeanutgarden]

Ushijima would be the type to not know that he is a natural flirty person. He is completely clueless. Especially with you. Being the manager of Schweiden Adlers you have your challenges with his flirty actions. We are now in the volleyball court of Schweiden Adlers...

•••••••

"Ushijima?" You called.

He turns his head towards you, showing off his abs as he wipes the sweat off his chin. His cheeks, red from the training drill they have been doing for the past hour. He shifts his weight as hes full body turns towards you.

"Yes Y/n?" He replied, as he pulls down his shirt and stares down at you. His body, almost shadowing you. You space out until you snap yourself back to reality, you open your mouth to speak...

"Here is your work out plan" you show him your tablet and with the use of your pen you point out and draw what is needed.

"Starting next week monday, you will be doing more weights during your strength training, and we will implement more foot as well as speed training following friday and saturday training. Sounds good" as you explained you didnt realize the lingering presence behind you bend down and place his head near yours to view your tablet

"Sounds good, may I ask if my diet will change at all" he said bluntly as if your faces weren't mere inches apart. With a small blush forming on your cheeks you take a step away and reply a nope, then running off to the next player you need to discuss their workout with. Ushijima who has no idea of how his actions affect others stand there still confused as to why your behavior has been like this ever since you joined the Schweiden Adlers as the assistant coach.

"Ushijima" the voice behind him said. He turns to see kageyama. "We have to do stretching now." Said kageyama bluntly.

As they did their stretches Ushijima spaces out as to why you are acting this way. Which leads him to a ramen place with two of his team mates. Kageyama and Hoshiumi, they simply went because Ushijima said he would buy them anything they wanted. But what they didn't expect is for Ushijima to ask advice about women. It is good to note that none of the two hes about to ask advice from has no experience with women.

"Maybe shes just quiet?" Asks Kageyama "But shes loud with the head coach." Replied Ushijima.

They had just finished eating when Ushijima proposed the question, 'why were you distant with him, and him alone'. This ended with the three men with no experience whatsoever with the feelings of women to ponder why are you distant with him.

"Maybe she is feeling under the weather?" Kageyama asked, "For the past year?" Countered Ushijima. Which leads the two to hold their hand in their chin and ponder more.

"I mean, it makes no sense for her to dislike you because you have done nothing wrong to her" said Hoshiumi.

Which makes Kageyama nod along, the night goes on and they are left there at the ramen shop asking themselves why you didn't like Ushijima. When in reality it was the opposite, but they can't seem to quite understand that. As the night rolls the sky the two wave goodbye to Ushijima, with a solid goodbye and see you tomorrow the three split ways. Ushijima walking to his studio condo near the volleyball court, he still questions as to why you seemed to dislike him, until.

"Ushiwaka?" A familiar voice calls out. He turns to the voice and its Tendou. Ushijima waves and walks towards Tendou. An exchange of greetings, and they seem to catch the conversation they left off a few months ago.

"So how is that assistant coach of yours? Is she still working for your team?" Asked Tendou. With a nod coming from Ushijima, Tendou knew there had to be something bothering him. So his nose got to sniffing...

"Had a tough day? Seems like you're in thought, Ushiwaka..." Asked Tendou.

"I...just don't understand her..." Replied Ushijima in defeat as if his problems have won.

"Why don't you go talk to her?" Asked Tendou. "But what if she doesn't want to talk to me?" Replied Ushijima.

"Then corner her and ask her properly. Because it would be better than you to assume every thought she has." Said Tendou as a matter of fact tone. Ushijima simply nodded, as the night grew colder Ushijima and Tendou separated ways. Promising to tell each other when they would be in town. As Ushijima unlocks the door to his condo, he realizes he should talk to you and address this whole situation.

The next morning, Ushijima wakes up to his alarm that is set at 6 am, two hours before his training later. He gets up to make breakfast, a simple egg sandwich and then he changes into his clothes. Then goes to the gym to practice on his spikes an hour before training. As he walks into the gymnasium he notices a figure moving around the court, as he looks and enters further. He sees you. He notices the way his heart quickens with your every move. He notices the way his voice catches in his throat as you walk by. He was daydreaming until, he saw your figure wave towards him. Which has him wave back towards you.

Ushijima stays silent, this isn't the first time you have shown him kindness in silence so he decided to take the advice given to him last night.

"Y/n?" Ushijima speaks up. You freeze and turn your body towards him. You raise your eyebrows to him, "Yes?" You replied.

The air so dense around them, making it hard to breathe then Ushijima speaks.

"Y/n, I have to ask if I have done something to upset you...If I have I apologize if I have..." Ushijima trails off in thought, and pauses to wait for your reply. A moment passes and you still say nothing, he opens his mouth to speak again. Until you interrupt him,

"Ushijima, I'm sorry if I gave the impression that I hated you...I just..." You trail off with your words and can't seem to face him a blush forming on your cheeks you fidget with the bottom of your shirt, then you raise your head to look up at him until suddenly he is right in front of you. Bending down to meet your eye to eye, your lips just a few inches apart. If you were to simply take a small step forward, you would have your lips on his.

"Your red...are you coming down with a fever?" He asks as he places his hand on your forehead, your face turning more red.

"Y/n?" He asks. Even though he just says your name you can't help but fall harder for your crush.

"Should I bring you to the clinic?" You wave your hand in front of his face, and take a step back to walk away. But before you could turn you felt a grip on your wrist,

"Please don't turn away from me" he says with a pout in his eyes. Who could say no to him, with this it ended with you in the clinic with Ushijima right next to you.

But it would be an understatement that this would be the end of your story with Ushijima. Because one year from now you would be labeled his Girlfriend and soon to be Fiance, he already bought the ring.

[phantomvegetable]

Trapper x Reader

twice saved, once trusted tw’s: typical dbd violence, strong language NOTE: made some edits :B

Kindness was something that did not exist in Evan’s world. Not anymore, anyway—not as long as the entity existed.

The closest thing to kindness to be found here was the sweet, merciful kiss of death after minutes of excruciating pain. To put one out of one’s misery… that is kindness.

So, when Evan—or “trapper,” as these feeble humans titled him in hushed whispers around the campfire—was shown kindness that resulted in being freed from pain without death to follow, he was at a loss for… well, anything.

You showed up without Evan being able to hear you over the blood rushing in his ears; timid and meek, like a rabbit first stepping out of the brush to check for predators. A bear trap—one of his very own—clamped painfully tight around his foreleg, crunching the bone and tearing ligaments at any tiny movement he made. Even worse, he was pinned beneath debris that fell atop the stun pallet that was thrown on him in a survivor’s attempt to flee. It was heavy enough to make him wheeze, lungs rattling with every slow inhale.

Irony was cruel like that—it didn’t care that he was the Trapper, caught by his own bidding. Evan sneered at the thought.

You must have heard his struggle—that, or you simply walked in on his unsightly hindrance and were curious—because you stepped out from the shadows and approached him, cautious.

“Are… you okay?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper. The gentleness and concern make Evan’s ears itch. Did you not know he was the killer? Could you not see who he was?

Unable to see, Evan relied on his hearing to pinpoint your location, listening closely to your careful footfalls that edged closer and closer.

Either you didn’t see that he was the killer and the shock of the situation finally dawned on you, if your startled gasp was anything to go by, or you truly were rattled by the grisly sight of the bear trap and couldn’t help but express it outwardly. Evan waited for you to do something—to run away screaming, to laugh and mock him, to finally kill him for the atrocities he’s committed against you and your community of survivors—but the silence merely stretched on, causing his lips to pull into a tight frown. Maybe you had run away, and he just didn’t hear you leaving.

Evan tried shifting the weight on top of him, the muscles in his calf contracting and making the trap tighten its vengeful grip on him. He groaned, low and in pain. His leg was starting to go numb.

Suddenly, Evan feels hands working to free him, starting with the trap first. It gives one last painful squeeze before loosening, the jaws falling open and releasing his leg from its teeth. The blood that rushes out feels both warm and cold against his skin. The contrast makes him grimace.

Next, the debris pile is being lifted, and finally Evan can see your face. He recognizes you at once—a killer never forgets his victims. Your brows are pulled taught in effort to push the wood and rubble off of him, teeth gritted as you struggle. Sweat causes the hair around your face to stick to your temples, dirt coating your forehead and chin. To anyone else, you might look grimy. To Evan, you were a sheen of light splintering cracks in his darkness.

The pallet and the items it collected topple over, granting Evan air to breathe deeply. His body creaks as he sits up, grunting. He reaches for the bear trap still hanging around his ankle, raising his foot to toss the gear haphazardly to the side. Despite the constant throbbing his leg is giving him, Evan clambers to his feet with low groaning, rolling his wide shoulders. He towers above you, enveloping your trembling frame in his monstrous shadow. You make no moves to get away; instead, you seem to be rooted in place, watching him with wide eyes.

Before you’re able to say, or do, anything further, Evan simply staggers forward on his bad leg and limps away, leaving you to watch his retreating frame in wild confusion that he let you go.

He wasn’t quite sure why, either.

———

The next time it happens, Evan could not be more frustrated or in disbelief at the sheer embarrassment of being caught stuck in a window. The barbs and spikes that protrude from his skin hold him hostage against pinewood, having one leg strung over the sill while the other kept him upright from the outside. His left shoulder remains pinned against the wall, his right arm hanging out the other side lamely. The survivor—Ace, he recalls—stops a few feet ahead of him and turns once he realizes he’s not being followed, barking out an incredulous laugh at the sight.

“Ha! What, can’t get out, big buy?” He sneers. “Should fuckin’ teach ya.” Ace spits on the ground in a show of defiance, but at Evan’s animalistic growl and effort to swing at him, Ace yelps and jumps back, wasting no time to scramble away in a cloud of dust. Evan snorts, unimpressed.

For the next few minutes, he tries to push, to pull—only earning protesting groans from the wall that refused to let him go. He’s ready to start clubbing the building when he hears an all-too-familiar gasp come from behind him, causing his hackles to raise.

“Oh, dear…” You sigh, matching Evan’s bewilderment at the deja vu. You don’t say anything else and tip toe to where Evan is able to catch sight of you in his peripheral vision, revealing the same sweaty face that so sweetly stared up at him with doe-like eyes. You’re sporting a new hat today, one that compliments your features. He would like to admire it more, but he’s growing more agitated by the minute.

As you take in his situation, you chew your bottom lip apprehensively, eyes sweeping him up and down. “Okay… I’m going to touch you, okay?” You warn him, hands hovering just above his bicep, but not making contact. Evan waits, until he realizes that you’re waiting for his consent, piquing his curiosity further. Were you really not that scared of him? Or just stupid?

He mutters before giving an approving grunt, which you take as a sign to go ahead and start pushing. The feeling of your fingertips against his skin is alien—they’re not calloused or rough at all. Not entirely soft, yet not scarred like his. You’re also incredibly warmer than he is, something that Evan finds himself not disliking.

“You—ngh—going to help?” You huff, jostling Evan back into reality. He resumes his attempts, teeth grinding as he strains to pull himself free. There’s a crack, then another one, and at a particularly hard shove from your end the wood finally splinters and breaks. You give one final heave, hands now against Evan’s back, sending the him through the window. Pieces of wood fall to the ground like rain around him, an unshapely hole now cratered on the side of the cabin. Evan couldn’t care less, though.

He staggers to his feet, craning his head to look up at your face, which looks immensely pleased. Evan tries to find his voice to thank you when he realizes that he hasn’t used it in ages, creating a sense of insecurity within him. It’s bound to be an unpleasant sound. He also realizes he’s supposed to be killing you, not thanking you. What Evan failed to remember, the Entity would surely remind him of.

But as he stares up at you—you, whose expression had dropped at Evan’s intense silence; you, who had helped him for the second time in a row without hesitation—he feels angry. A familiar emotion, and an even more familiar recipient.

The Entity. The cause of his suffering. The dark ruler of this forsaken place.

Evan’s grip on his weapon tightens.

“Thank… you,” He manages to garble out, correct about his assumption that his voice would be rough on the ears. It makes his innards recoil.

But you don’t grimace, don’t draw back at the sound of it. Instead, your jaw hangs open in shock, and you almost seem to lean in.

“You… talk,” You spectate. Moonlight filters through the bare tree branches above, casting shadows that dance in the gap separating you and he. Something about it is mystifying.

“…Yes,” He grumbles hoarsely, shifting his weight uncomfortably underneath your awe-filled gaze.

“Do you have a name?” You prod figuratively. Evan’s nose wrinkles beneath his mask.

“Not.. important,” He gruffly rasps, “you.. have a name?” You tell him, and Evan breathes it in like oxygen. Your name is much sweeter than iron and tears.

At the sound of a generator imploding, your and Evan’s head turns, and you’re both reminded of your roles to play in this fiendish game.

“Please,” You plead, earning his sights back on you. “Please, will you let us escape just this once? No killing, no attacking.”

It wouldn’t be the first time that Evan has defied the Entity—the marks on his back were enough to prove that. But, something in the way you look at him has Evan itching to bend the rules again. Break them, even.

So, he nods.

You look like you’re about to cry—something Evan doesn’t particularly want to witness—so he turns to leave. “I knew it,” You whispered, loud enough for his ears only. “I knew there was a reason I was supposed to help you.”

He pauses, then, “…Evan.”

“Huh?”

He faces you, eyes gleaming from behind his mask. “My name.. Evan.”

You crack a smile. If he had it in him, Evan was sure he might return it.

[calliopesdiary]

Okay but Fwb!Barty x reader and she's just flirting either men at aparty and he gets jelly🫶🫶

🪳

currently going feral 🫡

Play Date

synopsis: in your eyes; barty is one of your best friends, but in his eyes? you’re his, and only his.

warnings: cussing, mentions of sexual innuendo but this is a smut free oneshot (:

pairings: fem!reader x barty crouch jr

contents: barty is rlly very hot, friends with benefits,

BARTY HAD BEEN YOUR BEST FRIEND SINCE YOU FIRST stepped foot into the Slytherin house.

but tonight? Salazar was it feeling like the tension between you both was on fire.

you couldn’t explain it, maybe it was the freshly dyed green streaks in his hair. the crop top that showed off his lean abdomen and v-line. or the tight… leather pants… that did nothing for the imagination.

and maybe it was that he was totally oblivious to your presence and was very focused on some pretty young thing he had in the corner of the party.

but you really couldn’t resist the soft ache in your stomach while looking at him from across the room.

so you tried to distract yourself (and make Barty jealous) by flirting with some other guys, but it didn’t work so well.

the “make Barty jealous part did, though.”.

“you know— i’m pretty sure you’re the prettiest girl in Slytherin..” Lockhart insisted, brushing your cheek. you were sure he had said that one to a number of eager Slytherin girls (like yourself).

“Oh? and why’s that?” You smirked, glancing over to Barty to see his face nearly green with envy. to add to his jealousy— you wrapped your arms around the Ravenclaws neck.

“you’re beautiful.” you surely thought that if he was smart he would keep going, but he just stopped there.

“…What else?”

“What else…?”

“is beauty all that matters to you?” you unwrapped your arms from their resting place on his broad shoulders, giving a slight disgusted expression.

“What else is there?” he asked cluelessly.

you scoffed at his words, walking away and leaving the absolute wanker of a man behind.

just before reaching the door to the dorms— you’d been stopped.

“where you off too, babes?”

you could only recognize that voice as one Barty Crouch Jr. aka— the man who you had desperately been begging for his attention all night long.

“away from here, i can’t stand Lockhart any longer.” you rolled your eyes at the mere thought of him.

“ahh, i agree fully, babes. why were you even talking to him?” he slung a lazy (and possibly drunken) arm over your shoulder, before turning your head towards him with one nimble finger.

“i… well… you were off in the corner talking to Umbridge…”

“oh.. come on, babes. you know i’ve only got eyes for you.” he smirked devilishly.

“now— can we get out of here? i can basically smell your hornyness.”

“yes, please.”

[socksracoon10]

From The Unknown

A/N: MY LOVES I AM BACK!! Finally finished all my exams and I desperately needed some Aragorn content! It's so good to be back! Pairing: Aragorn x F!Reader Fangorn forest was never kind to trespassers, especially in late times. The Uruk-hais and Orcs had gouged out many of the Ents, and you were there to witness some of it. Currently hiding behind a shrouded bush, you meticulously sharpened your knife as you tuned into the sounds of your surroundings. A whistle of the wind, the soft rustling of the leaves, and the occasional moaning of the tree creatures as they moved from one area to the other. You almost swore they were moving on purpose to frighten you; one of them nearly placed its large foot onto you the night before when you were scavenging for food. The knife glistened in the moonlight and you twirled it between your fingers, letting it slip and fall gracefully before your thumb jerked it upwards to be caught again.

A crunch of the branches forced you to spin around; it wasn't a deep one made by the Ents, they would never step on their kind. This one was lighter, more precise. Frowning, you held out your knife and approached the sight of the noise, your eyes narrowing at the dark branches that folded around you. If it was an Orc, it would not be the first time you had to deal with one, and with the very little amount of courage that simmered in you, you leaped forward only to be caught and spun around. Your knife was quickly knocked onto the ground, and an arm wrapped around your neck.

"I wasn't expecting to see someone like you in Fangorn," The voice behind you cooed; he had a gentle voice, one that would sing lullabies to the Ents if he wanted to. You wriggled under his grasp, quickly ducking under his arm and bringing your hand onto his shoulders.

"Who are you?" You inquired, wasting no time in understanding the man before you. He cracked half a smile, nodding his head as if he knew you were not one to back down without gaining sufficient answers.

"My name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. I am here to find-" He began but was instantly cut off by your nosiness,

"Aragorn? As in... Isildur's heir? They have spoken wonders about you, and yet... you do not match your title," You scoffed, dropping your arms. You crouched down to pick up your knife, before pocketing it carefully. Aragorn continued smiling at you, before bowing his head,

"Forgive me, I have spent the past few years disheveled as ever. I am here on a mission, though. And I require your assistance."

You never liked working with others, it was one of the main reasons you had spent so long in solitude. As a female, your opinions were often overlooked and Eru knows the amount of men that joked about your place being at home. It tightened your heart at the very remembrance; you grabbed what was left of your items and stashed them into your bag before stalking off.

Aragorn was a bit surprised at your dismissive attitude and took it upon himself to follow you, his footsteps softly trailed behind and he occasionally looked down to ensure he didn't accidentally trip over the roots. He could not deny that he was intrigued by you; why would a woman choose to stay in Fangorn, especially so close to Isengard? Were you aware of the growing dangers, or did you choose to be ignorant? And judging by your appearance, you surely were no elf or dwarf. You were a mere human, not even one of his descendants. He observed your movements; you went in zig-zags, never once staying in one path. He thought it was a good strategy if you were in danger, but of now, he wasn't sure how to gauge a response from you. Considering you hadn't complained about him following you, he figured his presence was still welcome but he had to test the waters before making another move.

"How long have you lived here?" He questioned, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of your face. You swung yourself over a fallen Ent, before turning back to face him,

"Around a few months."

"A few months, and why so? What are you trying to achieve?"

"It's not about achieving anything, I merely wish to observe. I like to keep track of things that happen around me."

"I find your response to be a blatant lie, no man would put himself in danger such as this just to keep track of things," Aragorn exclaimed, leaning closer. You eyed him, warily, unsure of whether you should tell him the truth or not. He was one of the most important figures in Middle Earth and yet you could not bear to divulge him in your revenge tale. Your parents were killed by the Uruk-hai, and you felt useless as you hid for your life. There was something so awful about the tale to you; your parents were dead, but you had done nothing to save them. Swallowing thickly, you turned away from Aragorn and decided to continue wandering around the forest. He did not deserve a full answer, at least not in your eyes. Besides, you surely could not be of much importance to him.

Aragorn's eyes flickered over to Legolas and Gimli who hid among the shadows, and he raised his hand, gesturing for them to wait patiently. They were in search of two hobbits and believed that you would know of their whereabouts, but your reluctance in helping seemed to agitate Gimli more and more.

"Why won't she jus' say it?" Gimli grumbled, shaking his head. He raised his axe to stomp it, aggressively, but Legolas quickly caught it in the air before whispering back,

"Be patient, dwarf. These are matters we should not intervene in. Aragorn will find a way, you must control yourself." He scolded and Gimli's face burned with rage; he hated being chastised like a little boy, especially by an elf of all beings. He muttered a few curses under his breath, before shifting uncomfortably next to a bush, doing everything he could to separate himself from Legolas. In the meantime, Aragorn had now started walking beside you, rather than from behind. You could sense the urgency in his stare, but his patience was what surprised you the most. Finally, after much silence, you sat on a broken log and gestured for him to sit down as well.

"I assume you are looking for the Hobbits," You exclaimed, and his eyes widened at your words.

"Yes, yes I am." He responded,

"They were taken by Treebeard, an Ent, but I did not know which direction they had gone to. Treebeard was never fond of me, anyway. I had overstayed his welcome and before I could even make note, he used his leg to forcefully shove me away." You explained, and Aragorn nodded, before thanking me. A satisfied sigh was heard behind you and your head snapped over your shoulder to find Gimli and Legolas approaching,

"At least she finally opened her mouth," The dwarf scoffed and Legolas nudged him with his elbow, sending him a quick glare before smiling at Aragorn. The man stood up, clearly happy that he had gotten the information that he needed. You sighed under your breath, realizing that your purpose for the future Elessar was fulfilled. You would have to return to foraging these woods and finding a new place closer to enact your revenge. However, as you stood up, Aragorn called out to you.

"I never got your name," He smiled, hands folded in front of him.

"My name is (Y/N) (L/N)," You responded, unsure of what use your name would be to him.

"Well, (L/N), you keep track of your surroundings. I believe we'll need your resources - I'll need your resources." Aragorn stated a twinkle in his eyes. You tilted your head to the side, processing his words. There was something about his eyes that startled you, it forced you into him whether you liked it or not. His eyes were from an unknown place that you had seen when you were a child. And now those eyes beckoned you for an adventure that you sorely needed.

[theetherealbloom]

UNEVEN ODDS — CH. 3

Chapter Three: Light Carries On Endlessly Even After Death

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, ANGST, tiny fluff, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Singing, Suggestive content, the pandemic, character death, Zombies, eventual SMUT, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing

Word Count: 9.7k

A/N: This chapter is inspired by a mix of quotes and songs! Super unrelated, but it occurred to me, if I was in TLOU universe, I would not survive. I need my antidepressants and immediately would call it quits LMAO. (I know dark humor sorry :,) If you want to see my thought process (idk if you want to) I’ll put it at the end notes! Thank you for your comments, reblogs, and notes! I genuinely appreciate it and it means alot to me <3

Song: Make You Feel My Love by Adele

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TLOU WORLD — 2023

TEN MILES WEST OF BOSTON – DUSK

You trek your way into the forest, you hear your footsteps squishing through the mud and dirt, and the pounding of your breath. The sun is beginning to set, dusk then brings you moonlight, a time to reflect on the day that has past and look forward to the day that will be refreshed by the glow of the sun. It is the time when the birds sing farewell till the stars call them to sleep under the wings. Each color intensifies in beautiful solemnity, uniting in the darkness. 

No one spoke for the entirety of the hike, the silence carries your melancholy, yet it is a permanent friend of your subconsciousness. The deafness is only broken by ragged breaths and the beating of human hearts. Joel comes to a stop, his back facing you and Ellie as he speaks, “We’ll camp here for the night. I’ll take watch.”

You look to Ellie who merely shrugs, the two of you say nothing and begin to set up camp on the forest floor. You hear the rushing water of a river nearby and realize where you’ve ended up. Placing your backpack on the floor, you raise your arms and stretch to the sky, undoing the painful knots in your back and neck. You let out a sigh of relief and prepare for the inevitable. Joel calls out your name and you turn to face him, ready to take on the brunt of his pain and rage.

His eyebrows lower slightly, and the tone of his voice goes down a pitch, “You and I need to talk.” You take an uneasy breath and nod in agreement despite the sweat coating both palms. He takes a step closer to you and asks, “Did you know?” he raises his voice a little, “Did you know about Tess?” You look down in shame and whisper, “Yes.”

It takes everything he has to keep his control, jaw clenched and narrowed eyes, “Why?” he says. A question so simple, a three-letter word holding so much weight, and so much anger towards you. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You swallow and avoid responding, choosing silence over an argument. He scoffs and shakes his head, and you cross your arms across your chest. The more he fumed, the smaller you made herself.

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, and only look up to see his broad shoulders and back facing you, he mumbles with a quiet rage, “I’m gonna go check the area and make sure it’s safe and that there aren’t any infected nearby.”

“This ain’ gonna work if you keep hidin’ secrets from me Hummin’ bird.” He turns and walks away, disappearing into the woods. “Well, that was dramatic.” You turn to find Ellie sitting comfortably, back resting against the pine tree in a crisscross position, you open your mouth to ask if she was okay but decided against it. Instead, you nod, “Yeah. I’m, um, sorry about that.” Ellie only shrugs, “He must’ve loved her or something.” Your gaze softens as you whisper into the cool navy twilight, “Or something.”

YOUR ORIGINAL OBSERVABLE UNIVERSE — JANUARY 2023, NOON

WASHINGTON STATE UNIVERSITY, FUNDAMENTAL QUANTUM PHYSICS LAB

The sleeves of your white lab coat itch your arms as you focused on typing up your report. The clacking sound of your keyboard could be heard from around the lab as you typed. You were invited to assist in a study focusing on quantum mechanics and theory. The lab wasn’t as busy today, most of them had decided to join the conference that was being held at Harvard, busy networking and connecting with possible investors or fellow researchers.

It was only you and Adam that was left in the lab, his excuse was he would rather put acid in his eyes than shake hands and give fake niceties. He’s nearby testing his new hypothesis, and decides to make conversation with you, “If we manage to prove this, then it is possible, somewhere in the many worlds, a pandemic happened earlier in a different universe.” You roll your eyes in amusement, “Yeah, I guess so.” You’re in thought for a moment before asking, “Do you think humanity won? Like, they overcame it?” He hums, “Maybe. Or maybe they lost.” You snort and throw a careless joke, “Everyone would blame our shitty government and us, the scientists. How ignorant must you be for it to happen twice?” 

“Well, all disaster movies start with a scientist being ignored.” He says matter-of-factly, and you give no response,  and you continue typing up your report. Silently hoping that if it were true, that humanity would still have hope, small but just enough to let the shine through, and believe that they haven’t lost yet. You look at the time and log out of your work computer, packing up your things, and asking Adam if he would like to join you for lunch he politely declines, so you bid him farewell as you head out the doors to step on the grey pavement of the campus and make your way to a nearby restaurant. It’s a beautiful day, you think to yourself, clear blue skies and a cool breeze that caresses your skin. You take notice of the blue butterfly fluttering its wings and flying right past you, you smile as it leaves an afterimage of change.

TLOU WORLD — 2023

TEN MILES WEST OF BOSTON — CIVIL TWILIGHT DAWN

You wake up with a deep inhale, your eyes struggle to open, and try to understand where you were. Tired from the dream, well, a memory that replayed like a cassette tape on a player that pressed rewind. You blink a couple of times before rubbing your eyes awake and retrace your steps in your mind as you recall what happened last night, only to remember giving Ellie your jacket and waiting up for Joel to come back from scouting the area for any signs of danger.

You sit up a little straighter and crack the aching parts of your neck, you look next to yourself and see Ellie lightly snoring up against a tree, still asleep. You look at the familiar jacket draped over your body that had kept you warm during the cold night. Joel must’ve placed it on top of you when he found you barely awake and functioning.

You can’t help but smile and feel your heart flutter at the thought of him taking care of you. You feel the muscles of your cheeks tighten as you try to hide away your smile and hoist yourself up quietly, not wanting to disturb Ellie’s slumber. Letting Joel’s jacket drape off of your shoulders, you use your hands to hold the collar, creating a cape that drapes behind you. 

You head towards the sound of the stream, it burbles as it travels along its bed, bubbling over rocks and branches. It was a delicate duck-egg blue, like the delicate sweep of a painter's brush. It snuck and snuck its way past all impediments, even the river's stones. Twigs spun across its murmuring surface, small messengers from the mountain trees that had brought them there. The creek rushed across the riverbed's pebbles. It sounded like a starling flock's airy, silky spin.

In the background, the mountains stood silently, a sullen presence of sky-punching glory. Snow brooches adorned their lofty peaks, which were encircled in angel-white wreaths. A weeping torrent cascaded down the granite wall. It appeared to be a silk-blue slide pouring down the mountain. It looked to be bound in silver as it carried its burden of ice crystals. It emitted a distant thrumming sound, similar to the constant rumble of a drum roll. It glowed brightly as it fed the riverbed, the forest's lifeblood. It was a breathtaking sight.

Your gaze turns to fine Joel’s figure kneeling, hunched over, and quietly picking stones from the river’s edge. You watch from a distance as he silently stacks a pile of stones to create a cairn, a memorial for Tess. You make sure your footsteps can be heard as you approach him, but he gave no acknowledgment as you decide to sit atop a large rock. It takes a while before he looks at you, and finds you staring right through him with sorrowful eyes. 

You let out a huff of air before speaking in a neutral tone, “I don’t mean to keep secrets from you. If I had come here a day before the pandemic, a day before your birthday, I would have done everything to make sure this never happened.” You paused for a moment then continued, “You asked me why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t tell you because I thought I could do it on my own. I’ve been doing this for my whole life, keeping the peace and fixing things by myself, and I got it right every time. And the one time I get it wrong it cost someone’s life.” 

You feel your voice quiver as you spoke, eyes darting to look past him, afraid of the rage and grief he feels, “Someone you loved is gone. I’m sorry, Joel. But God, I know that will never be enough and no amount of apologies will bring her back. I had a chance and I fucked up. If I could… If I could press rewind and trade her life for mine I would if that would make it any better for you.”

“No.” Joel states and your eyebrows furrow in confusion, and slowly bring your eyes to look at him, “No?” And he shakes his head and picks up another rock as he says, “I accept your apology, but stop doin’ that.” You tilt your head quizzically, “Don’t do what?” He gruffly replies, “Minimize your life as if it doesn’t matter. As if it ain’t just as important.” She felt her breathing pause and peered intently at him before trying to argue, “But–” He shuts her down before she could go on, “Stop it, as you said, no amount of apologizin’ is gonna bring her back. She’s gone. I made a promise to her that I’m plannin’ on keepin’, you gonna help me or not?”

That throws you off balance, you expected him to lash out, maybe throwing a rock or two at you, not this. Slowly you nod, “Yes. Yes, I will.” Joel looks and searches for any form of malice or lies and finds none. He simply stretches his arm to you, the rock he previously took from the river’s edge, and holds it out to you like an olive branch. You slide off the rock you were sitting on and take the rock from his hand, crouching down and quietly placing it on top of the cairn. 

You stare at the pile of rocks for a moment, quiet in thought, but then Joel says your name in a whisper that wouldn’t even fog the glass, you raise your eyes to look at him as he asks, “Was she, in your world, did she, um, already um…” And you already know what he’s wondering before he tries and say the words, so you save him the trouble of continuing, giving him a nod you reply solemnly, “Yes.”

“And when we get to Bill and Frank’s? What do you know about that?” He says, and you blink back your tears, flashbacks of that episode occur in your mind, remembering their love for each other and what would happen once we got there. You apologetically smile at him, “Out of respect for the both of them. It’s best to find out when you get there.”

His eyebrows arch inwards in concern, “Are they okay?” And you hesitate, thinking how to appropriately word this without lying, but then you remember, “Yes, they’re content.”

Joel’s eyes look back down at the cairn the decides to get up. You see him hold out his hand for you, and you take it to hoist yourself up. “Let’s go back and see if Ellie’s awake.” He states, then let’s go of your hand, making his way back to the kid. You stand there for a second, glancing at the pile of stones that represent her legacy, then back at Joel, you decide to walk forward toward your future beginning to unfold.

TEN MILES WEST OF BOSTON — DAY

The sound of birds chirping can be heard as you walk behind Joel, finding Ellie awake with her sitting upright with her knees pulled to her chest and your jacket still being used as a makeshift blanket. Joel goes through his pack to get a bark of food and Ellie breaks the silence to question you, “You want your jacket back?”

You nod and grab it from her as she holds it out to you, putting it on, you remove Joel’s brown jacket to place it on top of Ellie. Her face drops, “Seriously?” And you shrug to whisper, “You guys need to talk too.” You begin to pack up and wear your backpack.

Joel takes a bite from his food only to crumple the wrapper to throw it at Ellie as if she was some dog. You look at him in slight annoyance as Ellie rolls her eyes and takes picks it up from the ground to also take a bite of food. He makes himself busy as he adjusts the strap of his worn-out backpack, trying to ignore the kid, but Ellie is persistent, “I’ve never been in the woods.” She chews before continuing, “More bugs than I thought.” Joel doesn’t respond, disregarding her statement, and fidgets with the buckles and straps. Ellie huffs, her shoulders tense and her voice louder as says, “Look, I’ve been thinking about…”

Joel shoots straight up to swing his backpack over his shoulder, “I don’t want your sorries.” Your eyes swing over to Ellie as she retorts, “I wasn’t gonna say I’m sorry. I was gonna say I’ve been thinking about what happened. Nobody made you or Tess take me. Nobody made you go along with this plan.” Joel stands there as he listens to her go on, “You needed a truck battery or whatever and you made a choice.” Then her voice lowers an octave and slightly quivers, “So don’t blame me for something that isn’t my fault.”

Joel has his jaw clenched and you could see the vein in his neck preparing to burst, but all he does is give a silent nod at Ellie, then she looks away. Joel picks up his rifle and Ellie stands up to walk to him, backpack, and food, in one hand and Joel’s jacket in the other. She stretches out her arm for Joel to take it from her, a truce, as he gently grabs it and folds it. A small smile stretches across your face and you relax.

“How much longer?” Ellie asks him, and he responds calmly, “Five-hour hike.” The kid nods and states, “We can manage that.” 

You take note of the trees arching and twisting from above you, the leaves creating patterns with their shadows, and not a single blade of grass out of place. It’s surprisingly quiet and almost peaceful as you follow Joel and Ellie across the wooden bridge, letting your mind wander, and quietly hum tunes that remind you of home. And when you no longer wanted to hum, you reflected on what happened on September 26, 2003. When it all fell apart on Joel’s birthday. The day seemed so normal, with clear blue skies and a celebration of life between a father and a daughter. You should have known, but now you learn, blue skies were a sight you never trusted again. 

“You’ve gone this way a lot? No infected?” Ellie asks, seemingly exhausted from not talking for so long. “Not often, no,” Joel replies, steadily looking for any form of danger, “What are you looking for?” And you respond for him, “People.” Ellie hums in acknowledgment, “Are Bill and Frank nice?” Joel replies lightly, “Frank is.” Glad you’re behind the two, and maybe it’s the past that’s talking, but flashes of their love come back to you in a blur. 

Ellie continues asking Joel the question, “Where’d you get that scar on your head?” You frown at that and remember exactly how he got it, he sighs at her. “What? Is it something lame? Like you fell down the stairs or something?” Ellie teasingly said, and his whiskey-deep voice gravelly replied, “I didn’t fall down any stairs.” 

“I fell down the stairs a lot in high school. Every year for four years.” You mumble your input without any thought and Ellie looks over at you with concern, “How the fuck are you still alive.” And you frown slightly, “To be honest, I have no fucking clue either.” The kid turns back to Joel, “Okay, so what then?” Ellie asks and Joel vaguely replies, “Someone shot at me and missed.”

“See, that’s cool. Did you shoot back?” The young girl states and looks at Joel with so much wonder and amazement, Joel glances at her and then responds, “Yeah.” Ellie continues, “You get him?” He’s practically done with her asking so many questions but replies anyway, “No, I missed too. It happens more often than you think.” 

“Because you suck at shooting or, like, in general?” You then bite back a laugh at Ellie’s comment, however, your eyes crinkle as you do. Vexed, Joel turns to look at Ellie, then away from her, “In general.” You snort at his response and this time he looks over his shoulder to look at you and you stare right back at him. 

Ellie glances at Joel’s revolver gun in its holder and looks back up at Joel, “You know, seeing as it’s just the three of us, and she has a gun already, I was thinking I should pro–” Joel doesn’t hesitate with his response, “No.” Ellie only rolls her eyes at his response and keeps quiet for a bit.

The three of you step over a fallen electric pole and turn a corner, “Cumberland Farms.” Ellie reads out the sign as you pass by it, Joel hurries his pace a bit before saying to you both, “Hang back a minute. I gotta grab some stuff I stashed.” 

“Stashed? Why do you have stuff stashed here?” Ellie asks still following Joel, irritated he says, “You ask a lot of goddamn questions.” She smirks, “Yes, I do.” Joel opens the door to the store, the sound of metal scraping against the floor as he does. “So, you gonna answer me or what?” Joel sighs and gives in, “We hide supplies on routes in case we find ourselves short on gear which I currently am because…”

“No way!” Ellie exclaims happily, and hurriedly makes her way to a Mortal Kombat machine, “You ever play this one?” You watch her mash buttons and mess with the joystick, while Joel lingers around, “I had a friend who knew everything about this game. There’s this one character named Mileena who takes off her mask and she has monster teeth and then she swallows you whole and barfs out your bones.” She sighs, “Oh man.” You look to Joel, entertained by him looking through a bunch of junk, Ellie turns to notice what you're looking at, “You forgot where you put your stuff.”

Joel shakes his head and denies, “No. I’m just zeroing in on it. It’s been a couple of years.” You lightly laugh, your shoulders slightly bouncing up and down as you do, “So, what? You’re using echolocation to look for it?” Joel only glances at you and sighs. Ellie smiles and says, “Okay, well, I’m gonna take a look around. See if there’s anything good.” Joel kicks something and replies, “Trust me, it’s all been picked over already.” Ellie hums thoughtfully, “Maybe, maybe not.” She makes her way to an open door and asks, “Is there anything bad in here?”

“Just you.” He retorts, and Ellie sighs, “Ah, getting funnier.” 

Joel shoves something and it doesn’t budge, “Fuck.” You laugh again at his struggle, and he looks at you unimpressed, “Do you, by any chance know where it is?” You smirk, “Yep.” He raises his eyebrows at you, “Do you wanna, maybe, I dunno, help me?” You twist your mouth to the side, cross your arms across your chest, and look up, mockingly thinking, “Eventually.”

Joel sighs at you, one hand on his hip as he does, then he says your name in a low-pitched voice, and you smile innocently at him from across the store. “And why won’t you tell me where it is?” You shrug and playfully say, “I like seeing you struggle.”

Electricity fills the air and you feel the warmth on your face, his brown eyes have now turned a shade darker than usual, and you watch him breathe a little deeper. Your tongue darts out a little bit to wet your lower lip and feel your heart race wildly. He stands there confidently, you notice his salt and pepper hair, his beautiful tan skin, and how the lines under his eyes and forehead remind you of maps you wish to trace your fingers on as they stretch, and there are too many miles to count. 

Wide-eyed in realization, you open your mouth, finding words to explain or excuse yourself but found none. Closing your gaping mouth, you quickly turn around to walk out of the store. Joel says your name, low and thick, you can feel the vibrations through your bones, it stops you in your tracks with your back facing him, “Where do you think your goin’? Turn around.”

You close your eyes for a second and try to quiet your beating heart, you follow his command, like a puppet on a string. “Where is it?” He asks as you feel his stare roam all over your body even from the large gap between you two, and you blink owlishly at him and out of breath, “Um, it’s at, um…” You clear your throat and try again, “It’s at the end of the aisle, underneath the newspapers.” 

“Come over here and help me lift this shit.” And your feet move forward to the man who is now crouched down and waiting for you. You kneel next to him, and as you tilt your head to look at him, you are now inches apart and unknowingly even closer at heart. You shyly look down on the piece of wood hiding his stash, “You should um, probably open it.”

He says nothing in response and you watch as he pulls his knife out and slices through the wood to create a small gap to lift it off the ground. You help him move it to the side, fingertips brushing against each other, feather-light touches that ignite a fire within you. In the corner of your eye, you see him begin to dig through the supplies he had left behind. It then occurs to you that you haven’t heard from Ellie in a while, you look to Joel with a concerned look, “We haven’t heard Ellie in a while,” you whisper.

He nods and proceeds to call for her, “Ellie?” He receives no response and the worry expands in your belly. Joel gets up and so do you, this time you try to call for her, “Ellie.” Getting nothing as well. Joel pulls out his revolver and turns to you, “Wait here.” You nod and follow his request, he approaches the door, “Ellie?” and she walks out fine and unscathed, “Picked over, my ass.” She says holding up a box of tampons. 

You let out a sigh of relief, even though you knew she would be fine, but the nagging voice in the back of your mind reminds you that things could change for the better or worse in any situation. Your being in this universe has an effect now, especially the fact you’re running around with the two main characters of this story. Whatever you say or choose not to say will have repercussions if you’re not careful. That’s something you learned the hard way.

Joel puts his gun away as Ellie shoves her find into her pack. He kneels down to put away the green toolbox and rifle under his stash, Ellie watches and asks, “What are you doing?” He responds, “There’s not much ammo out there for this thing. Makes it mostly useless.” You help him put the board back on and to no one’s surprise she tries to take advantage of the opportunity, “Well, if you’re just gonna leave it there…” Joel stands and you follow suit, he looks at Ellie sternly, “No.”

He turns to walk out of the store and Ellie follows after him, defeated. You watch the two go-ahead before glancing at the open door, knowing exactly what Ellie had found down there. Swallowing down your fear, you force yourself to keep going.

You continue to walk along the road, the clouds march on and the trees bow down to give their leaves, to offer you some shade along your journey. Walking by you see the wreckage of an airplane atop a hill, broken parts, and pieces scattered along the field. Ellie breathes out, “Holy shit.” The three of you stop walking to gaze at it fondly, “You fly in one of those?” The kid asks you and Joel, and he replies, “Few times, sure.”

Ellie is looking up at you, searching for your answer, and you give her a nod, “Yeah, a couple of times.” She brings her focus back to the wreckage and sighs, “So lucky.” Joel disagrees, “Didn’t feel like it at the time. Get shoved into a middle seat, pay 12 bucks for a sandwich.”

“Dude, you got to go up in the sky,” Ellie says, and you frown, simple things that got taken for granted, you knew all too well. “Yeah, well, so did they,” Joel says with dejection in his voice, then decides to keep moving. Something all he’s ever known. Ellie mutters, “Grim.”

“So everything came crashing down in one day?” Ellie questions and Joel nods, “Pretty much.” Ellie doesn’t settle for that and chooses to follow up with a, “How? I mean, no one was infected with cordyceps. Everybody’s fine eating in restaurants and flying in planes. And then, all at once? How did it even start? If you have to get bit to get infected, then who bit the first person?” She pauses, “Was it a monkey? I bet it was a monkey.”

You huff in amusement, “If it were a monkey, this wouldn’t have happened.” Joel looks at you then turns back to Ellie and replies, “It wasn’t a monkey. I thought you went to school?” Ellie frowns, “FEDRA school. They don’t teach us how their shitty government failed to prevent a pandemic.”

You flinch at her statement and think for a nanosecond, fuck. You hear your memories echo back to you. You snort and throw a careless joke, “Everyone would blame our shitty government and all the scientists. How ignorant must you be for it to happen twice?” Adam replies, “Well, all disaster movies start with a scientist being ignored.”

You painfully exhale and look to Ellie, parroting back the words you heard not long ago, “All disasters start with a scientist being ignored.” Joel and Ellie listen to you intently as you remember what had happened, and you continue on, “A scientist named Dr. Neuman sometime in the 1960s had feared this would happen. People laughed and brushed it off.” 

You close your eyes and try and untangle the strings of memories and information about their world, “Your outbreak started in Jakarta, Indonesia on September 24, 2003. A flour and grain factory,  on the west side of the city. The perfect substrate. A normal woman suddenly turned violent, attacked four of her coworkers, and bit three of them. They locked her in the bathroom and when the police arrived, she tried to attack them, and they shot her. The people she bit were taken for observation. You could imagine what happened a few hours later.”

You open your eyes to realize you had stopped walking and see Joel and Ellie analyzing the new information, you press on, “No one knows who bit her first, but there were fourteen coworkers missing. Possibly already spreading the virus. The cordyceps mutated because the world got warmer, and some of it go into the food supply. Flour was the case, and there were certain brands of food that were sold everywhere all across the country, and across the world. Bread, cereal… pancake mix.” You paused, unable to go on, so Joel picked it up from there and continued walking as he spoke, “If you eat enough of it, it’ll get you infected. So the tainted food all hits the store shelves around the same time Thursday. People bought it ate some Thursday night or Friday morning. Day goes on, they started to get sick. Afternoon, evening… they got worse. Then they started biting. Friday night, September 26, 2003. And by Monday, everything was gone.”

Ellie is quiet for a bit then nods, “It makes more sense than monkeys. Thanks.” Joel lifts a shoulder, “Sure,” while you only nod with the silence that you continue to carry. Joel raises his arm to stop you and Ellie, “What?” She asks him. He exhales, “We’ll cut across the woods here.” Ellie looks at him skeptically, “Isn’t the road easier?”

“Yeah, it’s just… There’s some stuff up there you shouldn’t see.” Joel says, the tone in his voice very fatherly. You look to Ellie expectantly, as she cheekily smiles at him and walks ahead, “Well, now I have to see.”

“I don’t want you to.” Joel comments disapprovingly, but Ellie marches on, and he grunts, “Serious. Ellie.” You follow after the two, and the young girl asks, “Can it hurt me?” Joel replies straightforwardly, “No.” She turns and walks backward as she talks to him, “You’re too honest man. Should’ve said ax murderer.” Ellie carries on walking normally, while you and Joel look at each other consciously, with full awareness. 

You decide to take a risky leap, gently take his hand, and squeeze it reassuringly. His weary eyes are drawn to your linked hands, fingers interlaced like a beautiful zipper of prayer. Hands are the maps and compasses we use to navigate our lives. Some people read palms to predict the future but you read hands to predict the past. Every scar has a tale worth sharing. Each calloused palm and fractured knuckle represents a missed punch or years spent in a factory. Your eyes tell him, ‘It’s okay, let her know.’ And he seems to understand, giving you a short nod. Because, what is a girl if not a buzzing creature discovering what the world will take from her?

“Whatever it is, I think it’s gone,” Ellie yells out to you both, only to stop short moments after to look at the ditch below. Skeletons were jumbled together and littered the dirt. You and Joel reach Ellie, with hands still intertwined, she’s looking up at you both for an explanation. Joel emits a long, deep, audible breath expressing his sadness, “About a week after Outbreak Day, soldiers… went through the countryside and evacuated the small towns. Told you you were going to a QZ, and you were… if there was room.” He hesitates, “If there wasn’t…” 

These people were wiped clean away, leaving only a wristwatch or a blanket. The only proof that they ever existed. Ellie feels out of sorts as she mutters, “These people weren’t sick?” Joel replies fixed and controlled, “No, probably not.” The girl nods while blinking away her melancholy and frustration she asks quietly, “Why kill them? Why not just leave them be?” You take a shaky inhale before responding, “Because dead people can’t get infected.” 

Joel squeezes your hand in reassurance, and it grounds you from remembering what had happened that sunny day. How easy it was for the government and military to manipulate everyone into believing everything was under control. People that you trusted and elected for a hopeful cause only for them to betray you in the end. You tip your head up to Joel and he looks at your sparkling eyes, looking up at him searching for some kind of answer. But he gazes at you, with no answers, instead, is filled with promises. Because what is an adult if not a terrified being desperate to protect something you can't save?

AMHERST COUNTY, MASSACHUSETTS, LINCOLN, – NOON

You, Joel, and Ellie approach the electric fence gate surrounding the small town of Lincoln. The site is hauntingly beautiful, a white large house can be seen from a distance, while trees dance in the wind, you can picture this neighborhood having plenty of kids playing out on the street without a care in the world. As you approach the gate, there’s a number keypad attached to the side, he glances at you and Ellie, “Stay there.” He punches in the four-digit code and there is a high pitch ring, indicating that the passcode was correct, and the metal gate unlocks.

Joel opens the gate for Ellie to walk through first, and then you. He closes the gate behind him as he follows you both inside. The environment is suspenseful and suspiciously quiet, Joel places his hand on his revolver while noticing the wilting yellow flowers outside the house. He pushes down on the door handle, surprised that it was left unlocked, he removes his revolver from the holster and cautiously walks inside. Ellie mumbles, “What the fuck?” while Joel yells out, “Bill? Frank?” Your palms begin to sweat and you discreetly wipe them down on your pants, Joel turns to look at you and Ellie, “You stay there. You hear anything… you see anything yell.” 

“What if they’re gone?” Ellie asks and Joel doesn’t respond, only looking at her before turning and opening the door to the kitchen. She sighs and proceeds to look around the house. A grand piano sits in the living room, and Ellie curiously presses on a bunch of keys to listen to the notes play. And then you spot it, head tilting, you carefully take the envelope and key that sat on top of the wooden table, and feel the sense of sorrow you knew followed you around like a shadow. 

You look to Ellie who was staring at you expectantly and then hand her the letter. You didn’t need to read what you already knew. Your footsteps are heavy as you pull out a seat from the dining room table, and fold your arms atop the desk before bending your head down. Your muscles were aching and exhausted, while the pounding in your head decided to return for another round. Ellie pulls out the chair next to you and opens the letter, quietly reading it.

You hear Joel from down the hall, trying to knock and unlock the door of Bill and Frank’s room, but hear the front door shut from the wind. This causes him to jump and call out for you and Ellie. None of you decide to reply. He stalks down the hall and turns right to the dining room, to find you quiet and resting your head against the dining table with Ellie reading the letter.

“It’s from Bill.” The girl says, and Joel decides to holster his revolver again. She reads aloud,  “‘To whomever, but probably Joel’. I figured I fell into ‘whomever.’” And then shrugs, “It came with this,” she pushes a key across the dusty table adjacent to her and he removes his backpack before tossing it to the floor. He grabs the key to inspect it and then states, “So they’re dead?” Ellie nods, “Mhm. You wanna…” Joel shakes his head no, “Go ahead. You do it.” 

Ellie clears her throat before reading out loud the words you cried over for a good week, “August 29, 2023. If you find this, please do not come into the bedroom. We left a window open so the house wouldn’t smell but it will probably be a sight. I’m guessing you found this, Joel, because anyone else would’ve been electrocuted or blown up by one of my traps. Hehehehehehehehe.” She pauses in confusion but goes on, “Take anything you need. The bunker code is the same as the gate code but in reverse. Anyway, I never liked you but still, it’s like we’re friends, almost. And I respect you.”

You can already feel the flip in your stomach before you’ve even heard the part that would hit him the most, “So I’m gonna tell you something because you’re probably the only person who will understand. I used to hate the world, and I was happy when everyone died. But I was wrong because there was one person worth saving.” 

And it all comes rushing back to you, the love story of Bill and Frank, a chance meeting that would have only happened during the end of the times. You quietly tried your best to sit up straight, but your posture is still drooping and sagging. Placing your elbows on the table, and folding your hands, interlocking your fingers, you closed your eyes and let your head rest against your hands. And when your eyes closed, your guards came down, tears freely flowed down your cheeks, mentally deadened, tired, and nauseous as you listened, “That’s what I did. I saved him. Then I protected him. That’s why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do and God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep…” Ellie stops abruptly, not wanting to continue. 

Ellie purses her lips together in a line while Joel snatches the letter to read what she could not. To keep Tess safe. He swallows down his guilt and anger, “Stay here.” You open your puffy, bloodshot eyes as you hear him storm out of the house leaving the door open behind him. Feeling out of focus and indisposed, like a single loose thread that comes all undone. You curl one leg up to your chest and let your chin rest on top of it, and you can feel the snot dripping down your nose as you do. Bring the sleeve of your jacket, to wipe it off from your face, then use the palms of your hands to wipe the tears away. 

But it proves useless as the tears continue to flow, Ellie silently moves to stand next to you and then gives an unexpected, but not unwelcomed, hug. You continue to cry harder, choking on every breath you take as you do, as you wrap your arms around Ellie’s waist and silently stroke your hair. Joel comes back to the house finding the sight of you broken and sobbing uncontrollably. Ellie only looks at him with saddened eyes, and a silent plea to help you.

You’re uncomfortably shattering into pieces,  stitch by stitch it tears you apart, and a stained-glass variation of the truth leaves your brokenness on display. Joel walks behind you, unsure what to do or say, but he can feel the magnetic pull of wanting and needing to help you, quietly he asks you, “What do you need?”

He wouldn’t have heard it if it wasn’t incredibly silent if your voice hadn’t echoed off the walls, your voice hiccuping, so small and soft as you admit, “I don’t know…” But Joel does. Without question, Ellie gently lets go of you, to be replaced by Joel’s large arms wrapped around your shaking frame.

The seasons will eventually change, and you may choose to go into them shattered and busted, with stiff souls, wounded hearts, and raggedy spirits. But the tiny part of you will continue on because hope endures the agony of sadness; it does not require your protection or defense. For now, you will allow yourself to cry, sigh, and wish for things to be different in the comfort of the two people you’ve grown close with. Later, you will discover raw, wrung-out calm when you allow yourself to be human.

After a reprieve, you willed yourself to stop crying. You take a shaky inhale and be the first one to pull away from Joel. Sweaty, puffy, and slightly dehydrated, from the amount of crying you’ve managed to do in a small amount of time. You feel drowsy, exhausted, overwhelmed, and embarrassed. Rubbing your face with both hands, you heavily exhale and try to regroup yourself as you do.

Joel gently holds your wrist to reveal your face, he’s kneeling down in front of you, “You good?” Your eyes shift uncontrollably across his face, not able to focus on him properly but you nod anyway, you have to keep going, “Mhm, yes. I’m good now,” you said. He gives you a short nod and slowly pushes himself up to face Ellie who was quietly sitting down again, “Show me your arm.”

Ellie stands up and lifts her sleeve to reveal the bite on her arm already healing. Joel nods and says, “I just finished making a truck battery. It’s charging right now.” Ellie nods back, “Okay.” He continues on, “I have a brother out in Wyoming. He’s in some kind of trouble and I’m headin’ out there to find ‘em. He used to be a Firefly.” Ellie continues to silently nod, indicating that she was listening to him as he spoke, “And my guess is he knows where some of them are out there. Maybe they can get you to wherever this lab is.” 

Ellie blinks, “All right. Listen about Tess…” But Joel shuts that down pretty quickly, he lifts his hand to stop her, “If I’m taking you with me, there’s some rules you gotta follow. Rule one, you don’t bring up Tess. Ever. Matter of fact, we can keep our histories to ourselves. Rule two, you don’t tell anyone about your… condition. They see that bite mark, they won’t think it through. They’ll just shoot you. Rule three, you do what I say when I say it.” 

Joel looks at you pointedly, “Rule three applies to you too Hummin’ bird.” Your face scrunches up in annoyance and exclaim, “But I’m a grown adult!” Joel only lifts his eyebrows, “Do you know exactly what happens now from here on out? You ever lived in an apocalyptic world?” You move your eyes away from him and mumble defeatedly, “No, and just a few hunches and theories, I guess.” He harrumphs and looks at you and Ellie, “Are we clear?” He says. You both respond, “Yes.”Joel’s eyes narrow and says without smiling, “Repeat it.”

“What you say goes,” Ellie says and he looks to you for the same statement, “What you say goes, Cowboy.” He lets out a huff and shifts his weight to his other foot, “Okay,” he mumbles. The kid questions aloud, “So what now?” And Joel decides it’s time to start preparing, “We grab what we can.”

Loud footsteps are heard as the three of you descend the metal stairs, Joel flicks on a switch and the lights flicker open. The sound of the 80s playlist playing can be heard filling the room. Joel goes to pause it while Ellie takes a good walk around the bunker, and looks at the wall of guns, “Holy shit. This guy was a genius.” You laugh lightly at her comment, walk over to Joel’s side to look at the playlist and security cameras, saying “Well, under normal circumstances, this would be seen as paranoid.”

Ellie snorts in amusement and acknowledgment, she turns to Joel and asks, “Why was the music on?” Joel places his hands on the table and replies contemplatively, “If he doesn’t reset the countdown every few weeks, this playlist would run over the radio.” Ellie makes her way to the side of the monitor, she peeks at it and states, “‘80s.” He glances from behind him, not wanting to dwell on it any longer, and tells the kid, “Grab some cans from over there. Nothin’ dented or swollen.” She lingers a bit by the wall of guns on display and points at it saying, “Dude.” Only to be replied with Joel’s firm, “No.” Ellie exasperated, “There’s a wall of them.” He gives her one hard look and Ellie pinches her lips into a thin line, walking away to start grabbing the canned food.

Joel’s gaze turns to you, while you tilt your head to the side to look up at him, and you feel a question forming on the tip of your tongue, the way you hold your breath as you wonder if it’s even worth bringing up, you and him inches away from touching, lingering and wanting you to say something. Instead, you pull away from his malt-musing mountain gaze, away from the comfort of his warmth and inviting pull. Afraid of what this could mean, or the possibility you might wake up and find yourself alone again. To only find his ghost wandering in your kitchen, haunting you if this all turns out to be nothing.

“I’m gonna go, um, help Ellie.” You say pointing behind you with your thumb, and then stumble your way around the bunker to look for the young girl. He watches you leave his side, and if he could have one wish it would be to have more time. He’d like to stop the clock and make time stand still because this is just how he always wants to feel. To hear the way she stumbles when she answers, and just for a little bit, secretly, he forgets about his cynicism because he can't wait to see what happens next.

You three end up going through everything in Bill and Frank’s home. On the upper floor, you and Ellie look around the bedroom as Joel opens the door to a closet, pulls on the pull cord switch of the light, and grabs a box of women’s clothes in Ellie’s size and yours. You and her open the box and happily dig through the pile of clothes that had been left behind. Eventually, you settle on a basic white tee, a pair of cargo pants, new white socks, and a lovely maroon leather jacket.

All three of you decide to check on the battery, Joel turns the knob of the charger and grunts, “Needs another hour.” Ellie checks the faucet by the sink and turns it to the right and happy squeals, “They have hot water! I’m taking a shower.” She then looks to Joel who was busy sorting through the clutter, “And then you’re both showering. Because seriously…” And before walking away she makes a sound to signal you both that you reeked of sweat and more stench imaginable. She walks away to go back inside the house and leaves you both alone together. 

Not knowing what to do or say, you give yourself a hug, arms folding in front of your middle, eyes darting to everything but him. Joel watches the way you shift around the bunker. He does not know what you are thinking, how you prefer your tea, if you take sugar in your coffee, or whether you like walking in the rain. He takes notice of the way you keep going just like he does, when you laugh it sounds like a melody he’s all too familiar with but there’s a different hidden note between each breath you take. 

You are impossible. Impossible is admitting you came from a different universe, it’s also attempting to connect in this world, trying to hang on to others while everything around you is exploding. And yet you’re standing there in front of him, real and full of light. He does not want to believe it, he worries in his mind that he will destroy each and every part of you, engrossing darkness and bitterness he has accumulated for the past twenty years. Beginning on the day the world fell apart, when it took Sarah away from him. And the weight of the world was placed on his shoulders.

You begin to hum to yourself as you take a walk around the bunker and appreciate the lengths Bill went through to keep him and Frank safe. Joel finally gives in to the tug of war in his mind and asks, “What song were you hummin’ on the hike here, Birdie? I didn’t recognize the melody this time.” His question pulls your attention away from the wall of guns and you incline your head toward him, “Oh? Uh, just a song from my world, I guess…” He looks at you expectantly and you take it as a cue to continue, “It’s a song by Adele.” You said as you scrunched your nose a bit.  A look of puzzlement crossed his face, “Who’s Adele?” he says. You slowly blink at him, “Damn, your world ended too soon and robbed you of Adele.”

The conversation continues on, it goes from books to favorite drinks, and bit by bit you’re beginning to piece together the man in front of you. It astounds you, how he kept going even when the world took away the people he loved. And later you hear Ellie yelling from the house, telling you both she’s done, you look to Joel and he tells you to use the shower first. You smile at him and give him a small thanks as you head up the stairs. The small talk you both had left him floating and hates that his mind continues to think about worse-case scenarios and look for emergency exits just in case. But is it courage or faith that he shows up every day? And maybe one day he won’t be afraid.

After the nice steaming hot shower, and changing into your new-ish clothes, you yell Joel’s name to tell him it’s his turn. He proceeds to go into the bathroom and you go downstairs to see Ellie messing with the piano keys, you gently tap her shoulder and she looks up at you with adorable eyes full of wonder, “Scoot over.” The kid moves and you sit down on the piano bench next to her, you mumble, “I’m surprised it’s still tuned after all these years.” Ellie’s ears perk up, “You know how to play?” and you tilt your head to the left, “Just enough to impress friends now and then.” She smiles, “Can you show me? Please?”

Your mouth pinches in thought, wondering which song you could play, “Hrm, I guess I could. But you might not recognize this piece of music since it was never released here.” She nods excitedly, “It’s no big deal. I need to hear you sing since you keep humming all the time.” You roll your eyes at that, “Okay, okay.”

You ready yourself, comfortably slouched, and your head down. Your fingers glide over the keys and you begin to sway as you play the starting notes of Adele’s ‘Make You Feel My Love’. “When the rain is blowing in your face. And the whole world is on your case. I could offer you a warm embrace. To make you feel my love,” You sang softly as your fingers continued to dance over the ivory keys, your spirit became virtually an allure with each small sway of your head and body. Joel silently walks down the stairs, enchanted and allured by your melodious voice. He leans on the frame of the foyer, slicked back salt and pepper hair, and currently has the softest eyes for you.

“The storms are raging on the rollin' sea. And on the highway of regret. The winds of change are blowing wild and free… You ain't seen nothing like me yet.” You sang and the buildup as it developed into a slow roll that shattered into the souls of everyone who listened like a tremendous tsunami. Joel and Ellie were entranced by the enticing music emanating from your voice, resulting in a tranquil silence. The lyrics soared and swelled from the depths of your spirit as if everyone in that room could sense your hope and affection. Your love became their love, and the audience and singer became one.

“I could make you happy, make your dreams come true… Nothing that I wouldn't do. Go to the ends of the earth for you, to make you feel my love. To make you feel my love.” You vocalized and slowly stopped playing on the ivory keys, letting out a sigh of relief you turn to Ellie who is in awe of your talent and skill. “Damn, I wish we could bring this with us.” She says and you throw your head back in laughter, your shoulder moving as you catch your breath, “Joel would break his back carrying this thing.” 

“You callin’ me old, sweetheart?” Joel says smugly, you and Ellie swiftly turn to look behind you, to find him relaxed, happy, and all cleaned up. You can feel your body begin to burn in embarrassment and attraction to the pet name he called you. Including the fact, he’s pulling off the wet look pretty damn fucking well. Ellie saves you from having to explain yourself and comments on his appearance, “Well, don’t you look pretty.” 

That brings him back to reality and begins to become grumpy old Joel once more, “Shut up.” He mutters and then tosses her a stick of deodorant which she catches. The kid looks at it and comments, “Nice,” then proceeds to get up from the bench with you following after the both of them.

You make your way to the blue Chevy S-10, Ellie goes to the front passenger seat but Joel clicks his tongue, “Go sit in the back, Ellie.” She groans and as she was about to walk to the back of the Chevy you shake your head, “It’s okay, you can take it for the meantime, I suspect you haven’t been in a car before.” And Ellie is practically vibrating with joy as she hops inside the car, Joel looks at you from the rearview mirror and you give a thumbs up while Ellie continues to explore parts of the car, “It’s like a spaceship,” she says and you hide a laugh while Joel mumbles, “It’s like a piece of shit Chevy S-10 but it’ll get us there.” And after a moment he adds, “I think.”

Joel begins to put on his seatbelt and he tells Ellie to do the same, but she only gives him a perplexed look, which he then shows her and she clicks it in place while smiling, “So cool.”

He turns the key and the engine rives to life, Ellie opens the glove compartment and finds a cassette tape, he glances at her, “Would you leave it?” Ellie gives him a cheeky grin to slide it into the radio. “Put it back. Ellie.” Joel states in a serious tone. Linda Ronstadt’s ‘Long Long Time’ begins to play, the first ever song you hummed a couple of days ago. You look out the window to the left, Joel and Ellie converse as you tune out the rest of the world, only listening to the music. You hear the buzzing of the gate open and Joel drives into the open road, and the lovely voice of Linda Ronstadt reminds you that love will transcend into every universe, and the thought of that lulls you to gently close your eyes and let yourself fall asleep.

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter

End Notes: (Idk do people read this? Btw this is lengthy since lol almost 10k words o-o)

Yes, Type 9 is The Runner-away-er of Conflict… hecking I had this whole argument planned out at first, all the yelling and fighting between the reader and Joel and nearly going through with that concept, but in the end decided against it. Because to me, it felt too soon. It wouldn’t progress the story forward, it would have just taken twenty steps back lmao. Joel is the type to keep going, to keep moving cuz he has to. So him reminiscing would be out of character and the reader getting mad and confronting him wOULD ALSO BE OUT OF CHARACTER LMAO

Anyways, as you read, I ended up giving them a moment to mourn and talk it out, because I felt like you needed to hear those words too. Do not throw away your life just to make someone happy. That’s destructive. 

I tried my best to write about grief this chapter, and had to rewatch Episode 3 to put myself through the torture again hooray! Towards the end, you can see my writing become somewhat poetic(?) but honest. I didn’t want to extremely exaggerate it but just enough to hopefully make u cry a bit. If you did cry pls tell me, it tells me that I wrote okay enough for you to cry)

But I also wanted it to give you some hope and to remind you that you are a light in many people's lives I promise.

Furthermore, I lowkey procrastinated on this chapter, I was hoping it would be out by Wednesday but the new Hogwarts Legacy game has me in a chokehold so I 1000% got distracted!

OFF TO EPISODE 4 I GOOOO I LOOK FORWARD TO SEEING UR COMMENTS MWA ILY <3

-Grace

TAGLIST:

@memento-mora @elijahssuit @tartiflvtte @lillylilly2 @kyuupidwrites @amethystwonder11 @syd-vixious @themysticmonstercturtles @kidkrow666 @soulofapatrick @ponyboys-sunsets @superflymaterial @chaotic-imposter @vainbimbo @eva-stark @loki-an-idiot @littleshadow17 @undermoonlightwalk @afternoon-evening @notmysunnydale  @slurmp69 @gyllord @aerangi @mac5323 @friskynotebook @romans-roys @earth-to-lottie @chaotic-imposter @kodzuvk @hawkins-2000 @reallysparklychaos @trust-dreamcatcher @darkened-writer @memeorydotcom @welcomebackfelicia @rainbowpitofdoom @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @marvelsimpcz @dorck26 @evienorville @munsons-queen @little-miss-bi @mxltifxnd0m

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[hard-core-super-star]

shock to your system [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: your move to new york isn't as panic-free as you would have hoped but thankfully, your girlfriend knows just what to do to help.

warnings: panic attack + general mentions/descriptions of anxiety; hailee being the sweetest person in the world even in stressful situations; cute cheesy fluff; one day i'll figure out how to write endings, i promise; me dragging new york again, i'm so sorry

wordcount: 1.3k

a/n: title (and inspiration) comes from shock to your system by tegan and sara, i cannot recommend the song enough, holy crap. this request by sent in via pm and it's slightly heavier on the anxiety side than some of my past works. important disclaimer: i've never experienced a panic attack before despite living with major anxiety so hopefully the descriptions aren't totally awful. hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

You should’ve known better than to keep your growing anxiety to yourself. Despite the nagging feeling in the back of your mind, you had dismissed it at first. You were sure it was just the average amount of discomfort that comes with moving to a different city and because of it, you didn't say anything to your girlfriend.

Clearly, that had been a bad idea.

You didn’t know where it stemmed from but it was obvious the move to New York had left you a little more uneasy than you had anticipated. It’s not like you were a stranger to the city but living here is something completely different to visiting every few months. Everything about it is loud and overwhelming and incredibly different from the ocean-blue views of L.A that you’re so used to.

Not only were you dealing with the move, but you were also dealing with Hailee’s absence most days. Hawkeye had been picked up for a season 2, hence your hurried move to New York, and your girlfriend was on set pretty much every hour she was awake. She didn’t technically have the title of executive producer like she did with Dickinson but she certainly behaved like one, choosing to stay on set even when she didn’t have any scenes to film.

In hindsight, the signs were obvious. And yet you managed to ignore them over and over again until you finally snapped.

You had spent most of the week laying in bed and pretending like everything was fine. Hailee was distracted enough that she didn’t question you even when it was obvious you were avoiding things and you made no effort to fill her in on what was going on inside your mind. You didn’t see anything wrong with it…until today when your anxiety got way out of your control.

You don’t even know how it happened. One second you were fine, relaxing on the couch and texting your girlfriend who was on her way back to your apartment, and the next you felt the walls closing in on you. All it had taken to tip you over the edge into an ocean of panic was a genuinely sweet question from Hailee, an offer to go out tonight and explore the city together.

The mere thought of stepping foot outside of the walls of your new home was more than enough to make you spiral.

And spiral you did.

You’re not sure how much time passed, it felt like both an eternity and a second to your overwhelmed mind, but the tightness in your chest slowly increased until you were left gasping for breath.

You’re so lost in trying to remember how to properly breathe that you miss the sound of the door opening until the caring voice you love so much calls out for you. “y/n?”

You open your mouth to say something but all that comes out is a choked sob full of more desperation than sadness. You want to look up at Hailee but you feel frozen in place like all you can do is shake and struggle to get enough air into your lungs.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she says as she crosses the space between you until she’s kneeling in between your legs. “Can you look at me, baby?”

“Can’t- Too much-”

“Shh, I know, I know. Take your time, you’re safe, love.”

Her gentle hands come up to caress your face, her thumbs wiping away the tears you hadn’t even realized had been slipping out of your tired eyes. Her touch helps ground you despite the chaos swirling around your mind, almost as if she’s the only thing keeping you anchored to reality.

She moves slowly but she manages to help you lift your head enough to be able to look into the loving eyes you call home. “There we go. Focus on me, alright? I’m not going anywhere.”

You sort of mumble in agreement although the sound comes out slightly muffled and incoherent. Hailee doesn’t judge your panicked response and instead does her best to comfort you, keeping her eyes trained on your face for any subtle hints that the panic attack may be growing stronger. There’s an underlying sweetness to the moment that not even the demons in your mind can argue against.

You do your best to focus on the sweetness of the moment and the sheer warmth she radiates so effortlessly while you struggle to get your breathing back under control. It’s a slow process filled with Hailee’s whispered words of encouragement and soft caresses but eventually, your shaking subsides and your breath starts coming in somewhat steadier than before.

You feel as if you’ve run a marathon despite having been frozen in place for who knows how long. The relieved smile that spreads along your girlfriend’s face offers more solace than the air that fills your lungs. “Better?”

“Yeah.” Your voice is barely louder than a whisper but at least you can finally talk without hyperventilating. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” she replies with a small shake of her head. “I’m just glad I could help you.”

You reach for her with shaky hands and she instantly understands your silent request. She joins you on the couch, her arm instantly wrapping around your waist and offering you more comfort than she could ever imagine. You shift your body toward her and rest your head against her shoulder while making sure to keep your breaths slow and deep.

A few moments of silence go by before Hailee speaks up, the question she asks breaking your heart a little. “y/n…why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t realize it had gotten so bad.” Your words are laced with both honesty and small traces of guilt. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, baby, I should’ve known.” Her grip on you tightens the slightest bit and it's obvious to you how genuine her concern is. It makes your heart flutter in your chest, the love that flows between you being more than enough to help your leftover discomfort disappear.

“Hailee, you’ve been so busy lately, it’s okay.”

“That’s not an excuse,” she argues. “I made you move here with me and then ditched you every day when I didn’t even need to be on set.”

You hate the way she blames herself but you know it’s only because she cares about you so much. It turns the whole situation into an easy pill to swallow. “Lee, I moved here with you because I wanted to. I love you, and I love New York, it’s just a lot to wrap my head around and that’s not your fault.”

She chuckles but the sound comes out a tad too deflated for your liking. “I’m supposed to be comforting you, not the other way around, love.”

“We can comfort each other. It doesn’t have to be a competition." You tilt your head slightly so you can gaze up at the proud owner of your heart. You pretend not to notice the thin layer of tears in her eyes, not wanting to spend any more time dwelling on the bad.

You're in your girlfriend's arms with nothing but time to spend with each other. And that's what matters to you.

"You...are way too sweet for your own good, you know that?"

She doesn't give you time to argue with her. Instead, she leans down and captures your lips with her own. You practically melt in her arms. After going almost a full day without her, this was heaven on Earth, you were sure of it.

You reluctantly pull away from the kiss, the smile on your face wider and more genuine than it's been all week. "I know you wanted to go out but how about we order pizza and watch a trashy rom-com?"

"You read my mind, baby."

[snapeaddict]

Minvember Day 3 - Dance rehearsal

"Severus, you must help me."

"I am busy."

"Busy doing what, exactly?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"..."

"The fumes, Minerva. I am watching the potion fumes. The thicker it is, the better the result for this experiment."

"I see. I thought you were merely contemplating your laboratory, brooding over the absurdity of life as per usual."

Severus rolled his eyes. He unfolded his arms and took his eyes off the cauldrons that stood a few feet before him, glancing at the deputy headmistress with an unreadable expression.

"How may I be of service?"

"My left foot."

He raised an eyebrow.

"You will have to be more precise."

"It hurts."

Almost imperceptibly, his lips quirked in a sort of twisted, half-repressed smile.

"That is most unfortunate", he merely replied.

"Well, do something about it, you annoying man!"

"I do not see how. Certainly Poppy is the one qualified-"

"You know how she is! She might talk - tell Albus -"

Severus leaned comfortably against the nearest work-table. He could have been filing his nails for all that mattered; he looked especially unbothered, with a cunning and satisfied expression patiently waiting to move each of the carefully trained muscles of his face.

"Tell Albus what?" he asked.

His voice, as usual very smooth, was a steady mix of amusement and faked ignorance.

Minerva sighed heavily. She looked over her shoulder, then replied:

"You know he stepped over my foot the whole evening. And the day before. And the day before that."

"Really? But I thought you were an experienced waltz teacher -"

"Severus -"

"Such a brilliant one, in fact, that even the headmaster could become a successful dancer under your guidance, if I recall your very words -"

"Severus -"

"And, if my memory does not fail me, to that I humbly replied-"

"FINE! YES! Albus is a lost cause. It is like his arms and legs do not belong to the same person. He smiles confidently and then moves completely out of rhythm. Are you satisfied?"

Severus smiled cunningly. He set out to the other side of the room, opened and closed a cupboard and then came back to his original place, holding a jar of white cream. He handed it to her.

"This will reduce the inflammation in under ten minutes, if applied generously. It is scented with camomille - your favourite."

"Thank you."

She turned to leave.

"Oh, Minerva?"

"What now?"

"Do you know when this was prepared?"

"I am sure you will tell me."

"August 13th. The day we learnt there would be a Yule Ball."

She rolled her eyes and left, cursing under her breath. From what Severus could make out, it was something about never taking a bet again; he turned his attention back to his cauldrons, looking very pleased with himself.

[doctorbrown]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 ⸺ 「 9 / 31 * A NEW ‘PUPPY’ 」

August 7, 1895

“Are you sure about this, dear?” The sun streaks across the Train’s sleek lines and Clara marvels at the massive steel beast, powerful and elegant, carving its presence out of the otherwise dreary California landscape. Much like her husband, it is a fusion of the times, the present—by her account—and the future, blended seamlessly to create something larger-than-life that would put even Captain Nemo’s prized Nautilus to shame.

“I’m positive it’ll work. Besides, somebody has to test it to make sure everything is properly calibrated and I’d rather not put you or the kids at risk.”

It isn’t that she doubts her husband on this—he’d already invented a Time Machine once—that fancy metal behemoth propped up in the Delgado Silver Mine where it would wait for another sixty years until Mr. East—Marty came to retrieve it, facilitating the events that, to them, have already occurred.

He had been working diligently on this ever since they’d agreed that they couldn’t remain in this time, lest they threaten the space-time continuum and potentially jeopardise Emmett’s own existence. Even when she could no longer keep up with his future knowledge of science that still bordered the realm of science-fiction by this time’s standards, she had nothing but confidence in his ability.

No, it is the inherent risk that any scientific experiment entails that has her worried for Emmett’s safety, for time is the one barrier she has no hope to breach should something go terribly wrong.

But she can’t allow herself to think like that.

“I’ll be back in about ten minutes’ time from your perspective.” Emmett wraps his arms around her waist, radiating such confidence and conviction that Clara almost feels foolish for worrying so much.

“And not a minute longer,” Clara teases, leaning in to send her husband off with a fond kiss.

The train whistle blares, slicing through the tender parting and causing both Doc and Clara to leap a foot in the air. Laughter, muffled, yet still filtering out from the open cab, takes the place of the silence and if Clara strains her ears, now ringing from the sudden unexpected noise, she can hear Jules and Verne shouting at each other from inside the Train, the latter complaining how he wants a turn.

“I’d better go before the boys decide that I have to wait for them to be finished before I’m allowed to interrupt.”

“Boys, come out of there,” Clara calls, projecting her stern teacher voice that leaves no room for discussion or debate. “You know the Time Machine isn’t a toy and your father has very important work to be doing.”

Jules and Verne both groan, but in mere moments, they trudge their way out of the Train, carefully descending the steps.

“Can we come too, Dad?” Jules asks, throwing that wide-eyed, pleading look at his father that usually has him folding.

“Yeah! Us too!”

“I’m sorry boys,” Emmett says earnestly, “not this time. But I promise that the next time we use the Train, it’ll be as a family.”

“He’ll only be gone for a few minutes,” Clara adds, to which both of the boys’ faces immediately fall, their expectations of some grand adventure dashed.

Emmett climbs into the cabin and retracts the steps and Clara ushers the boys back several feet, mindful of Emmett’s tales of the first Time Machine and its aggressive displacement method. The boys wave as the Train picks up speed and Clara finds herself holding her breath, her chest tightening with each crack of thunder resounding through the air in spite of the idyllic blue California afternoon. The shockwave rattles her bones and when the flash of light subsides, leaving nothing but a trail of fire and smoke where the Train was only a moment ago, Clara finally lets out the breath she was holding.

“Whoa!! Did you see that, Mom? Dad’s gone!”

Verne runs along the side of the tracks, chasing the ghost of the train with Jules in tow, and Clara stays rooted where she is, overcome with a number of complex thoughts and emotions. The reality of it thrills and excites—time-travel would open doors and wonders that she only ever dreamed about, only ever found through the escape of fantastic books—while paradoxically releasing hordes of butterflies in her stomach, each flutter of its wings an uncertainty, a yet unforeseen trouble, an obstacle to overcome.

The Twentieth Century awaits—she could practically grasp it in her hands now, alive with possibility and promise and peril—and they were going to greet it together, as a family.

Clara doesn’t know how long she stands there until she comes back to herself, pulling out her pocket watch to check the time. Two minutes until Emmett should be getting back. Jules and Verne have moved well enough away from the tracks now, likely chasing one of the small critters if their fixation with the ground is any indication.  

When the storm rolls in despite the conspicuous lack of overcast, Clara’s attention snaps back to the tracks at the same time the boys whip around, eagerly awaiting their father’s return. The Train returns with all the pomp and circumstance it deserves, steam rising from its engine, and once Clara confirms that it’s safe to approach, the boys take off, meeting Emmett at the cab.

“It worked, Dad, it worked—but it’s so loud!”

Emmett peeks his head out of the window, grinning triumphantly down at his family. “Right on time. The temporal displacement worked perfectly—in reality, I was gone for almost three hours.” Both Jules’ and Verne’s eyes go wide. “But according to my watch”—he digs around in his pocket, fishing out the watch—“it has only been ten minutes exactly. I thought I might have to recalibrate the Time Circuits, but it looks like—”

Something barks from inside the cabin and Clara and her husband exchange a look.

“What was that, Dad?”

“It barked! Did you get a dog?” Verne gasps. “Did you bring a dog from the future?”

“You remember me telling you stories of my faithful companion Einstein, don’t you?”

“Named after one of your heroes of the Twentieth Century,” Clara says, recalling the countless tales in which Einstein the dog made an appearance. She had known she would come face-to-face with her husband’s best friend—before Marty, that is—at some point, but she had hardly expected the large, shaggy creature sitting comfortably in the train as if this is old news, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

Einstein looks around at the unfamiliar surroundings, then appraises each new unfamiliar face in turn.

“And the world’s first time-traveller,” he says proudly, reaching down to scratch Einstein behind the ears. “I grabbed him from the lab when I could be certain Marty wouldn’t show up unexpectedly.”

“Does he bite?” Jules asks, his voice trembling slightly.

“Only if he doesn’t like somebody. But Einstein is an exceptional judge of character—he’s more likely to lick the skin off your face if you don’t push him away than he is to bite you.” Emmett ushers Einstein out of the Train and gestures to each member of his family, introducing them as if Einstein was possessed of human intelligence.

“I know this is all confusing right now, Einie, since I’ve only been gone a couple hours as far as you’re concerned, but I’d like you to meet my family.”

[queeniecook]

December 2

The Count is in the basement, playing his organ while James' lovely wife is off with Asa - hunting. That leaves James in a rare moment by himself in the Straud Mansion upstairs area.

He's brooding over his interactions with Dakota in the Magic Realm the day before as well as his past. He has a longer past than many think. Caleb Vatore might be the only one who has even an idea of how old James really is. Magic can do wonders. The particular thing he's thinking about happened a mere few years ago. Back before he even made his presence known again to Caleb - to anyone. He had been living with Liberty in Germany for about a year when he made a trip to Strangerville to gather some ingredients he needed for a potion. Strangerville is the only place in the world that has what he needed -  petals from one of the weird plants that grow in that town. He wasn't expecting what he saw when he stopped in at the bar that night. After some research, he formulated a plan.

A few years ago in Strangerville...

James waited until Jillian Ambrose was away for a few hours before approaching the property. With a few words in latin, he temporarily brought back an angry spirit back from her days of haunting the house.

James gave it a few minutes to let the spirit get her footing in the land of the living, before entering the house with a good ole trick he learned in his youth - picking a lock. Not everything he does relies on magic.

"Temperance." James called from the living room, seeing the woman in question standing in the kitchen. 

Temperance didn't answer the voice, she just stared at the kitchen. It was once her kitchen, granted it doesn't look like the way she had it. She hates the decor. "Why?" she whispered. Why was she breathing? She was busy haunting a wine bottle when suddenly she was flesh and bone again. Air was rushing in and out of her lungs. She almost fell flat on her face as she took a step towards the stove. 

"You want to live again, don't you?" The voice asked as it grew closer. She finally managed to turn to look at the intruder.

"Well duh." was her response as she eyed the man. He's not bad looking and she can tell he's magically endowed and possibly endowed in another area as her mind wanders. It's been quite a while since she's gotten to engage in certain physical pleasures. 

James almost rolled his eyes at Temperance's traveling gaze. "I have an deal for you." there's silence as Temperance once again looked at his face. He knew he had her attention. "I want you to kill the woman who bought this house. Do it and I'll make you human again."

Rather than question James over the specifics, as he expected, Temperance immediately agreed to his offer. "You have yourself a deal." She stated, holding out her hand for a handshake. James slowly shook her hand as she lightly rubbed her thumb over his. With that the deal was struck.

Temperance almost succeeded. 

She would have succeeded, if Dakota hadn't been there and Guidry hasn't warned them. James finds himself oddly glad his plan hadn't worked. That thought seems to trouble him the most.

[thief-of-eggs]

‘Thoughts of You Consume’ writing update for you all (plus a sneak peek of a later chapter)

First off, I want to say thank you to all of you who have been reading and invested in my works. Truly, I cannot tell you how much your support means to me, and it never fails to make me giggle and kick my feet when I think of how many people are enjoying my silly stories.

For everyone asking- yes, I am still writing my snowjanus longfic ‘Thoughts of You Consume’. I’ve gotten a lot of comments and asks, and it felt easier to post this then answer them all (although I still might try to)

There has been a lot that’s arisen in my personal life this past month (unexpected move, loss of a pet, relapse with my auto-immune disorder) that has caused me to put my fics on hold while I focused on getting my life back on track. (Aka- i’ve been reading a shit ton of books. Sometimes the writer just needs to be the reader for a moment)

I have not forgotten about the fic, or about all of you lovely readers! I have the next chapter half written, and I try to visit it every day to add even just a little <3

I’m hoping to have a new update for you soon, but in the meantime, as a treat- enjoy this little excerpt from a future chapter:

(Spoiler Warning)

Coriolanus is quiet as he sneaks back in to the Snow’s apartment, though he’s not entirely sure why. Surely their grandmother has already gone to bed, and it’s not like he has anything to hide. So he’d been out with a friend- that’s not too absurd is it?

Yet he still feels as though he’s done something wrong.

He begins to head straight to his room, but pauses as he passes their kitchen, seeing a candle lit on the table. His cousin is bent over her latest bit of embroidery- some tablecloth for Fabricia. He doesn’t know what leads him to it, but he finds himself walking closer, crossing in to their little kitchen.

His foot steps on a creaky floorboard, causing Tigris to startle, before laying her eyes on him.

“Oh! You’re home- I hadn’t heard you come in.”

Coriolanus hums, walking silently to their worn kitchen table, and takes a seat across from his cousin.

“Did you have a nice night?”

Again he hums, watching as she returns to her embroidery. Her needle slides delicately through the fabric, weaving an intricate floral design with mere thread alone.

“Did you eat while at the Plinths?”

A spike of fear grips his heart- how did she know where he’d been? He certainly hadn’t told her, that’s for sure. But then… where else is he known to go? He doesn’t maintain friendships outside of the Academy, hasn’t gone over to anyone’s place besides Sejnaus’s. Yes, that’s right. It was a mere logical deduction on her part, nothing more. She hasn’t picked up on anything, other than his mundane habits.

The thought eases a bit of his chest, though really, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she knew. Tigris has come to be his one and only confidant, and the fact that he’s kept this from her so long eats away at his insides, a muddled up secret begging to be set free.

The two of them sit in relative silence for a while after. Coriolanus watches the candle sink lower and lower, his mind playing over the events of the day, playing over Sejanus’s face, Sejanus’s words, Sejanus’s everything.

Eventually, it becomes too much to bear. He opens his mouth and pauses, weighing his words in his throat before finally speaking.

“Can I- can I ask you something Tigris?”

His cousin looks up from her embroidery, her needle in hand as she peers at him in the dim light. She cocks her head, care and concern laced in her expression.

“Of course Coryo. What is it?”

Coriolanus takes in a breath, holding it carefully in his chest before releasing. He tries and fails to formulate just how to go about asking what he means. Eventually, he settles for something more cryptic than he’d have liked.

“Would it be so wrong if I were… different?” Coriolanus asks, desperately hoping Tigris will somehow pick out his deeper thoughts and meaning.

“Different how?” She replies, and Coriolanus feels his chest deflate like a balloon. Of course she couldn’t know- and he isn’t likely to tell her just now.

“Never mind,” he mumbles, standing from the table. He’s suddenly quite exhausted, and finds he’d like nothing more than to curl up and let the day be washed away in the grips of sleep.

“Coryo, wait-“

Tigris stands as well, reaching out to grab onto his arm. He allows himself to be stopped, turning to face his cousin as she steps closer, standing directly in front of him as she places her hands on his shoulders.

“Different is never bad, Coryo.” Her eyes bore intently into his, so full of tenderness, full of love and care. “You could be all sorts of different, and it wouldn’t matter one bit to me.”

Coriolanus can’t tell if she’s grasped at anything, or if her statement is truly a blanket one. But still, it makes the ache in his chest loosen, makes his eyes flood with tears that he can’t fully understand, besides knowing that they’re partly forming out of relief that his cousin wouldn’t abandon him should she find out he were disgrace to their family name.

“Thank you Tigris,” he murmurs. She reaches up to cup his cheek, gently wiping away a stray tear that falls.

“Oh Coryo,” she whipsers, before pulling him close in her arms. He buries his face in her neck, holding his breath as though he could hold in his tears, his eyes screwed shut as her hand passes gently through his hair.

He pulls back a moment later, his vision blurred by his unshed tears. “I’m off to bed,” he says with a sniff, stepping back with his gaze trained at the floor. He doesn’t wish to see Tigris’s pity in her eyes just now, doesn’t wish to see all the ways she might suspect him different.

“Alright,” she murmurs. “Sleep well Coryo.”

He nods, turning on his heel to trudge back into his bedroom. Once past the threshold, he closes his door, leaning back on the thick mahogany wood with his eyes squeezed shut, his breath held tight in his chest.

It’s no use now that he’s alone. The sobs come quietly, because Coriolanus had learned early on in life how to manage his grief in silence. Slowly, he slides down the door until he’s sitting on the barren floor. He tugs his knees up to his chest, buries his face in his hands, and weeps.

He can’t fully work out just what he’s weeping for.

[divineordiabolical]

Once Allay and her family slept profoundly, Sora stood up from his resting place to grab a pencil and paper.

Once he was done writing, he left it on top of the stove, grabbed his newly washed cloak, and disappeared into the night.

He was walking around for a while, thinking about the events that’ll take place as soon as he would be found…he dreaded it….it made him nauseous to even think about them.

It was until he stumbled upon a church, he returned from his thoughts into the real world again.

“A…a church???? I don’t remember ramshackle having a church…”

He decided one little peek wouldn’t hurt.

He stepped inside, careful not to make any sounds.

He was AMAZED at the church’s interior…it felt…peaceful and a bit…creepy.

But he also felt guilt and disgust…for he remembered his aunt telling him about the time they went to a church, the pastor humiliated his mother when she was pregnant with him. Her aunt defended her tho and they never stepped foot inside a church ever again.

He sat down in the front row as he was lost in thought. He started to cry, unaware that someone was watching him.

The church was overcome with utter stillness upon the stroke of midnight hour, bathed in the silver glow of the moonlight streaming through the stained glass windows. The air was heavy with the scent of incense and candle wax, lingering from the evening service. Anastasia, clad in her chemise nightgown, stood before the altar, lost in contemplation. The flickering candles cast dancing shadows on her serene face, reflecting the myriad thoughts running through her mind in unholy hours of the night.

Her aching solitude was interrupted by the sound of quiet sobs, echoing through the hollowed halls of the empty church. Turning her gaze towards the source, she saw a boy, around her Asya's age, knelt upon the pews. His shoulders shook with the weight of his sorrow, each tear glistening in the dim light like fallen stars. Intrigued and moved by his evident pain, Anastasia hesitated for a moment, then slowly approached him, her bare feet making no sound on the cold stone floor.

As she neared him, she could see the depth of his anguish, the rawness of his emotion laid bare in the silent sanctuary. The boy seemed to be a fragment of something larger, a piece of a story yet untold, his presence here in the dead of night a mystery. He wore simple, worn clothes, his hair disheveled, as if he had wandered in from tumult fought.

Anastasia felt for him profoundly, their sorrow mirroring her own— this stranger who had somehow found his way to this sacred place, seeking solace or perhaps merely a refuge from the world outside. She knew the feeling well, the desire to escape, to find a moment of peace amidst the chaos of life. She had often stood in this very spot, letting the sacred divinity of the holy establishment wash over her, hoping it would absolve her mortal sorrow.

Although, it scarcely ever worked that way.

"A-are you alright?"

[sunkissedandseraphic]

My Guardian Angel is Crying: Chapter 6

Story Summary: When Rick and Michonne watched Judith walk onto the school bus, calling out a small "I love you!" before the doors closed behind her, they smiled, knowing their family had welcomed another good day. But merely hours later, they receive a call that shatters their world: while going back to the classroom after their time on the playground, someone had managed to kidnap Judith, and there was no trace of who took her and where she was now. Desperate to find their little girl, Rick and Michonne were determined to get to the bottom of this, even if that meant supporting each other and their son in the midst of their own breakdowns. They had to find her, because if they didn't, they'd crumble into pieces too small to put back together

Chapter Summary: As the story comes to its end, the Grimes family earns the happily ever after they were scared they would never get to see

A/N: And that is the end of this fic! Please go follow my ao3 account (same username) as I tend to post first and more often on there, but I do eventually transfer everything here! I am also working on a new fic centered around Daryl and Carol, so be on the lookout for that

The only things stopping the Grimes family from getting to that hotel any faster were the laws of speeding and physics. 

Rick was behind the wheel, shaking with so much pure joy he thought the car might start shaking alongside him. He was leaving indents in the steering wheel leather at this point, but he didn’t care. They were going to get Judith back, and he had never craved something so badly in his life. 

While Rick searched for every shortcut, he glanced in the rearview now and then to watch Michonne and Carl in the backseat. Michonne's smile was as bright as the sheriff had ever seen as she ran her fingers through Carl’s knotted hair, listening as the words spewed from his lips; for a boy who had spent almost a week so silent you could hear a pin drop, he surely has no intention of shutting up now– and honestly, Rick and Michonne had never been so happy to have their ear talked off.

The boy rambled on about how he, to cope with the situation, had cleaned Judith’s room the other day in preparation for when she would be found: placing her books in the correct order on her shelf, returning her toys to the chest at the foot of her bed, making sure her favorite Mulan pajamas were folded neatly and laid on her bed, and lining up each of her stuffed animals against her pillows. Carl was glowing as he missed not a single detail, and the couple watched his eyes light up with each praise they gave him.

The drive to Atlanta felt never-ending, but eventually, Rick spotted the sign for the Holiday Inn Express, and the three Grimes’ were out of the car before it had the chance to fully stop. 

It was a race to the entrance of the building, but just as they were seconds away from stepping on the curb, a voice Rick recognized called out behind them. “Rick! Can you and Michonne come here? We need to talk,” Said one of the King’s County troopers, waving over to the sheriff. 

Rick didn’t know where to look first when he moved to face the cop. There were of course the men Deanna had sent to complete the arrest, then beside them were two women he assumed were the ones he had to thank for saving his daughter’s life, and in the patrol car, seated behind the barred windows, were the people he restrained the urge to make suffer for the rest of their shitty lives: Shane and Lori Walsh.

If his son was not two feet away from him, Rick would have dragged the two out of the car and made them pay for the hell they put him through. Although, knowing to breathe his way past the rage, Rick determined that he would keep civil, collected, and remain cooperative with whatever his coworker asked of him.

Rick turned to Carl, whose eyes shifted between the car and the entrance to the hotel. Resting his hand on his son’s shoulder, Rick gave him a gentle smile and cocked his head in the direction of the door. “Go, she’ll want to see you,” He said, knowing how much Carl needed Judith. 

Carl gave a glance back up at his father, anxiety shining through his wide eyes, but after a moment, he swallowed against the lump forming in his throat and nodded. His surroundings were blurry as he felt Rick take his hand away and walk towards the cop, Michonne following close in step. While they began discussing things with him and the two women, Carl felt his gaze drift over to the patrol car and without even realizing it, he snapped out of his daze to find himself making eye contact with Lori. Making eye contact with his mother.

God, he felt disgusted even thinking about Lori in such a way. That wasn’t his mother; a mother would love her children instead of neglect them, protect them instead of steal them away from the people that held them dear. A mother would never stoop to such heinous levels just to get her way. A mother was everything that Michonne was, and he was horrified he had ever seen Lori in that perspective. 

As the cherry on top, Carl felt his stomach churn when Lori smiled at him, pursing her lips to blow a kiss in his direction. Without hesitation, he responded with a scowl and the raising of his middle finger, displaying it proudly towards her and Shane before turning his back to them and making his way inside the hotel. 

When Carl placed his foot through the entrance and onto the carpet, he was greeted by a hubbub of employees, concerned guests, and even more cops. It was a little overwhelming to the teenager, and he was frantic to see anyone or anything he could recognize. It took a moment or two, but soon, Carl spotted a taller man he remembered from one of his father’s work gatherings across the room: Lieutenant Mercer. His eyes landed on Mercer and as they slowly trailed down, Carl noticed the small figure that he was speaking to. 

Judith.

Mercer must have noticed Carl’s staring because he saw the lieutenant chuckle and point to him, mumbling something to Judith that Carl couldn't make out. None of that mattered though, because when Judith peered over her shoulder and found her big brother barely twenty feet away, she flashed him the largest grin in the world and broke out into a run.

“Carl!”

Judith cried, making a beeline for Carl. Without a second thought, Carl crumpled to the floor and quickly gathered Judith up in his arms, pulling her into his chest and gently cradling her head. “Judith!” He cried, not bothering to hide the tears that streamed heavily down his blotchy cheeks. 

The siblings stayed like that for a minute or so, taking in the security of the embrace. Judith, not truly understanding the gravity of what was going on, pulled away and responded to Carl’s tears with a look of puzzlement. Giving it little attention, she made grabby hands towards Carl’s sheriff's hat, to which the boy took from his curls and placed it onto his sister’s. The giggle she let out as he did so was enough to make his whole life worth living; Carl looked at Judith like she was the sun. “I love you, Jude, to the stars and back,”

He whispered, caressing her face with his hands, voice cracking with the emotion that bled through his assurances. Retaining the knowledge her brother had taught her about the stars and the solar system– one of the things that fascinated Carl– Judith held out her pinky and met his line of sight with hopeful eyes. “Even the big dipper?” She asked innocently, and let out his first laugh in days as he confirmed, wrapping his pinky around hers and holding on. “Especially the big dipper,”

It was only a few seconds later that Rick and Michonne burst into the lobby, heads going in every direction attempting to see where Judith was. Upon first sight of them, Judith leaped from her spot in Carl’s lap and raced over to the two of them, running as fast as her little legs could carry her. 

“Daddy! Daddy!”

Her cheers echoed in the room and the instant she collided with Rick’s legs, Rick unleashed a sob that wracked his core. “Judith!” He swept Judith up into his arms as his knees buckled, sending him crashing down onto the rug beneath him. Rick pressed his face into the crook of her neck, unable to believe he was holding her once again. “Oh, my baby, my sweet Judith,”

He hastily released Judith from his grip and began inspecting her up and down, terrified that he would discover some type of mark, bruise, scratch, anything of that nature. To his delight, he found not a single inch of her had been harmed, and Rick felt like he could breathe again. “God, you’re okay, you’re okay!” He said, laughing and pressing kisses to the curls poking out from underneath the sheriff’s hat 

Lastly, Judith noticed Michonne to her left. Unlike Lori, the sight of Michonne filled Judith with warmth, never once having felt dread upon being near her. She managed to wiggle her way free from Rick’s trembling hands and rest in Michonne’s lap as if this were nothing more than a usual afternoon.

“Hi, Mama!” Judith cooed, becoming putty in her mother’s lap as Michonne began to run her nails through her hair and against her scalp, unable to stop another giggle at the feeling; oh, how Judith missed her Mama. 

Witnessing her daughter melt at her small touch, Michonne allowed the teardrops to bubble over and trickle down her cheeks. She didn’t bother with hiding or wiping them, she knew any effort would be in vain. “Hey, sweet girl,” Her voice was raw and quiet, but as long as Judith heard, that was what mattered. Judith couldn’t understand why her family was crying, and it scared her. 

Of course, she’d seen them cry in the past, but with reasons, even when those reasons weren’t always clear. Judith had seen Carl cry on days when he would assure her it was nothing more than the stress of what he called “big kid school”, and there were times– times Judith was meant to be asleep amongst the company of stuffed friends– where she saw Carl crying seated on the cold bathroom tiles, their father with him, cleaning and bandaging small cuts on Carl’s arms. Judith had seen Michonne become misty-eyed a few times, usually when a car accident had been shown on the television. Judith, though, had never, not for as long as she could remember, ever seen her father shed a tear. 

“Why are you crying?” Rick had to tread lightly when starting this conversation. She was so young, and the last thing he wanted to do was scare her. “Judith… do you know what happened?”

With a nod and a sense of childhood innocence, Judith explained what she believed to be the events of the past few days. “You told Mommy that you wanted me to go stay with her and Shane because you’re not my real mommy and daddy, and she said that Carl didn’t want to come with us, and when she tried to call, you didn’t want to answer,”

The admission came so easily from Judith as if it had been rehearsed or drilled into her over and over again; it broke their hearts. A six-year-old girl should not have been able to say those things unfazed. 

The blood in Rick’s veins was boiling, his face growing red to match. He swallowed back the bile crawling up his throat, forcing himself not to lose his temper. Letting out a deep breath, Rick reached his hand to Judith’s back. “Sweetheart that’s not true, okay? We never, ever , told her that we wanted you to stay with them.” Rick spoke slowly, articulating every word. He needed Judith to understand, to know the truth. “No matter what they told you, we didn’t want you to be with them, and we are your real mom and dad. I am your real dad, and Michonne is your mama, okay?” “Shane told me that’s not true. Shane told me he was my dad!” 

Rick’s mouth went dry. 

For six years, Rick had been Judith’s father. He was there the day she was born, holding her in his arms as she slept for the first time since entering the world. He was there for her first steps, her first words, watching her first movie, her first birthday; Rick had been the one raising her towards each new milestone. He was the one being her father. The day Rick decided to leave work early and surprise his wife with a nice evening out, the day he discovered Lori and Shane already in bed, checking off the last item on Rick’s list for said evening, was the day he knew he was an imposter. 

But that, of all things, would not stop Rick Grimes. He had raised this girl, she was the light of his life, and goddamnit, nobody was taking that away from him.

From that fateful night on, Rick chose to keep this from Judith; for now, at least. But now? Hearing his shameful secret so easily released from the very one he was hiding it from? It was a knife in the gut. Rick hadn’t realized that instead of attempting any coherent reply, he had just been staring at Judith with his mouth agape. Michonne was quick to take over the conversation, to which Rick owed her the world. “Shane is lying, sweetheart. Shane is a very bad man, and he lied to you.” Michonne assured, knowing that was not a discussion the family was at all ready for. 

Snapped from his spiral, Rick hesitated before opening his mouth. All of this was no doubt going to prove a lot for Judith to process, but she had to know. This was serious, and as a matter of her future safety, Rick understood that the hardest talks were always the most important. When he settled his gaze on Judith, cuddled in Michonne’s lap, he saw the faces of all the kids he’d had this talk with in his career. He could say with certainty that he never thought he would give Judith this same spiel. “Judith, do you know what kidnapping is?” Ironically enough, Judith’s face lit up. “Uh-huh! Mr. Rovia made us have an assembly about it! He said it’s when bad people take you and they’re not supposed to,” She held her head high as she answered, pride in knowing the correct answer radiating from her. 

“That’s right, good girl,” Judith grinned when Michonne’s praises reached her ears, and after glancing towards Carl and Rick for a final confirmation, Michonne ripped the bandaid off. “Judith, honey, Mommy… Mommy and Shane kidnapped you. They aren’t supposed to talk to you or be around you, and what they did was break the law. We didn’t know where you were, and we were so scared, baby,”

As the information sunk in, it was like someone flipped a switch. Judith’s expression morphed into terror, tears blurred her vision, and she abruptly clung to Michonne’s waist as if it were a lifeline. Michonne wasted no time in reciprocating the embrace, whispering repeated reassurances in hopes of keeping her calm. “I don’t wanna live with Mommy and Shane! I wanna stay with you and Daddy and Carl!” She wept, burying her face into Michonne’s sweatshirt. The three of them crowded the girl, doing their best to comfort her. In all honesty, Michonne and Rick were surprised at how tame she was reacting; with being the sheriff, Rick had seen sobbing and screaming and feelings that no one could console from kids in her position. This, though, they could handle, this they could help Judith heal from.

Amidst her panic, Judith heard a voice calling out to her. Timidly, she peeked from her curled-up position to find Carl with his arms extended to her, and Judith moved from Michonne to Carl’s embrace before anyone could even blink. 

As Carl lifted his thumb underneath her eyes, slowly wiping away any drops that threatened to spill, Judith felt safe. There was never any doubt that Carl would go to the ends of the Earth to keep her safe, and Judith could feel it in his hugs. “You’re not going anywhere, Jude. You’re gonna stay with us, we’re gonna go home, and we’re gonna keep you safe, I promise,”

The world seemed to fall away after that, leaving only the four– finally, four of them once again– Grimes’ to share the emotional rollercoaster of their reunion. It wouldn’t be easy for any of them to move past this horrid week, but with time, the scars would scab over and the wounds would heal. Michonne and Rick would teach Judith to defend herself and no longer feel obligated to watch her like a pair of hawks. Carl would no longer feel the need to strictly carry his sister when out in public, no longer fearing that was the only way to guarantee she wouldn’t be swept away again.

It would take time, but they had all the time in the world. Judith’s guardian angel would dispose of any tears and keep watch on the girl as she grew, ensuring that Judith’s light remained immortal with every breath she took.

[writtenjewels]

See No Evil

It was completely dark when Jason opened his eyes. He coughed out the lungful of dirt he had inhaled when he fell and reached up to turn on his flashlight. Nothing happened. He gave the light a sharp slap with his palm but it still remained off.

Well, fuck me. Not only did he fall into some hole, but he busted his flashlight while doing it. This was going to make getting out of here a hell of a lot harder. Jason took off his backpack hoping something inside might help. He found his fire starting kit and eagerly took it out.

Jason could hear the strikes of the starter but he didn't see any sparks. Something was very wrong here. He paused, turning his head to take in his surroundings again. It was complete darkness, like he had his eyes closed. Surely his eyes should have adjusted to the point where he'd pick up something, even if it was just a shape.

“Fuck,” he cursed out loud. “Fuck.” Hands shaking, he returned the kit to his pack. What the hell was he going to do now? He heard a voice calling out and he turned his head eagerly in the direction. “Hello?” he answered. “Someone there?” Jason's heart pounded while he waited for an answer. He could hear the sound of feet approaching.

“So you fell down here, too,” a voice remarked. The accent was one Jason didn't recognize. He squinted into the darkness.

“Do I know you?”

“No, I don't think we've met before,” the voice answered hesitantly. “Is there anyone else here?”

“Not sure,” Jason shrugged. He fumbled for his radio. “This is Mailman Two-One Actual to all call signs. Anybody read me?” He got static as a response.

“I couldn't reach anyone, either,” the voice told him. Footsteps told that the person was moving closer to Jason. “It may be just us.”

Jason took a careful step in the voice's direction, sliding his foot across the ground when he moved. It was the most disorienting feeling to not be able to see. He continued taking shuffling steps until his toe nudged against something solid. His heart skipped and he lifted his hand, brushing fabric. Jason held back the shudder of relief even as he closed his fingers around the material.

“Are you all right?” the voice asked him in concern.

“I'm fine. Just fuckin' great.” Jason turned his face where he thought the speaker's face might be. “Just makin' sure you were real.”

“I understand what you mean.” Warm fingers rested over Jason's hand. Jason's fingers twitched and the feeling disappeared. “This is a very strange place; I wasn't entirely sure you were real at first, either.”

“Well, we're both real enough.” Jason tugged gently on what he assumed was the man's sleeve. “My name's Jason.”

“Salim,” the other returned. “Listen, Jason. I think it would be best if we work together in finding a way out of here.”

“Yes!” Jason agreed, closing his hand around Salim's arm. He felt the man stiffen. “Uh, why don't you lead?”

“All right.” Salim pulled away from Jason's touch. Jason felt his stomach sink down in horror. He was frozen, heart beating wildly. He slid his foot forward hoping to nudge against Salim's shoe again. “What's the matter?” Salim asked him.

“I can't... fuck.” Jason gritted his teeth. “I can't fuckin' see anything. The fall fucked up my sight somehow.” There was silence for a few moments.

“You aren't messing with me,” Salim realized. “You really can't see me.” Silence fell again, but to Jason's relief he felt Salim's hand close around his. He didn't fight it as Salim guided his hand back up until Jason could grip onto fabric.

“Thanks,” Jason said. “Now let's get goin'.” Salim moved forward and Jason stumbled a little before picking up the pace. He closed his hand around Salim's arm again.

“I'm not going anywhere,” Salim assured him. Jason merely tightened his grip and continued to follow Salim. It was still disorienting to walk without seeing where he was going, but at least he wasn't alone anymore.

[another weird/random idea of mine. Not tagging the ship since nothing shippy has happened yet]

[englishstrawbie]

“ maybe you could stay? just for tonight? it’s dark outside, and it’s raining. my arms are much safer. “ for marina please :)

Maya had learned early on that one of Carina’s love languages is acts of service. Since the day she had turned up at the station with a container of lasagne, a gesture to make a bad day better, she has continued to do little things that bring a smile to Maya’s face. A homemade tiramisu or cannoli from her favourite Italian deli when she is working, Carina insisting that the sweet treats will keep her energy up during her long, twenty-four hour shifts. There are massages when Maya’s body aches and she will wake up with a blanket over her legs when she falls asleep in the middle of a movie. One morning, Maya had raced out of the apartment, late for work, and when she had returned the following day, her messy kitchen was spotless.

So it doesn’t surprise her when Carina shows up on a stormy night after hearing about the fire under the bridge in the park. A group of homeless people had lit some fires to keep warm, only for those fires to quickly grow out of control; embers being picked up by the wind and landing on their tents and blankets. They had lost two lives today and the whole team are feeling it.

She hasn’t heard from Mason since she had gifted him paints and brushes; she knows he left the camp a few days later, but it doesn’t stop her body from turning rigid when she realises that the fire is under his bridge, her eyes watching the mural he left behind become scorched by the flames – her only connection to him erased.

She had looked for him, of course – just in case. There was no sign of him and Maya had felt both relieved and disappointed. She longs to see him again, desperate to know he is safe and happy.

Only Andy knew why this particular bridge was important to her, but the rest of the team had heard that the last time Maya had seen her brother he was living on the streets and they understood her reaction.

Carina knows a little about it too, from what Maya has been willing to share. She is still guarded at times, the walls coming down slowly. But as soon as she had heard about the fire, Carina’s instinct was to grab her coat and bag, and head over to the station.

She finds Maya behind her desk, staring mindlessly at her computer screen and looking sad. Maya doesn’t hear the soft knock on the door, only looking up when Carina is standing in front of her desk, a takeout bag in her hands.

“Hey you,” Maya says with as much cheer as she can muster, painting a smile on her face.

“Hi bella,” Carina says softly. She glances at the plate of food on the desk, dinner turned cold, and places the bag on the desk. “I stopped by The Pink Door, I thought you might want something decent to eat.”

Maya’s lips turn upwards into a small smile. Carina has never thought much of their cooking – unless it’s Travis’s turn.

“Thank you,” Maya says, although her glum mood masks any hunger she may be feeling. “Let me guess – you spoke to Bailey, who’d spoken to Ben?”

Carina nods.

“Did you see Mason there?”

Maya shakes her head, no. Carina steps around the desk and perches on the edge next to Maya’s chair, tucking her foot under the wheels and encouraging Maya closer.

“Are you okay?”

Maya merely shrugs. She spins her chair and drops her head, leaning her forehead against Carina’s stomach. Her hands rest on Carina’s hips, her fingers digging into her waist. She breathes deeply, letting out a contented sigh when she feels Carina’s fingers comb through her hair.

“What do you need, bella?”

Maya lifts her head to look up at her, her eyes sweeping over Carina’s face and hair, dropping to her chest and the small silver necklace she wears.

“Show me,” Carina says in barely a whisper.

Her hands tug at Maya’s hair and she stands up, pulling Carina into a kiss. Carina’s hands circle her back, holding her close. Maya yanks at the hem of Carina’s shirt, finding her way underneath, her fingers sinking into Carina’s skin. She moans happily, making easy work of the buttons to expose Carina’s abs, toned by all the yoga she does.

“Maya,” Carina mumbles in between kisses. “Not here.”

“Why not?” Maya says breathlessly.

It is not the first time they have got carried away in the captain’s office. Carina has become a frequent visitor to the station since they started dating and Maya figures it’s a privilege that comes with being captain – one that she is more than willing to exploit. Besides, no-one was going to know. The team are scattered around the fire house: some in the beanery, some in the break room, some hiding in their bunks.

“Maya! I mean, not here,” Carina says, giggling as she wriggles out of Maya’s grasp. She steps back, dragging Maya towards the Captain’s bunk.

An hour later and she is curled up against Maya’s body, her head resting on Maya’s chest and listening to her heart beating beneath her. She sighs happily, enjoying the feeling of peace that always comes when she is in Maya’s arms.

“Well, I feel better,” Maya says cheekily, her lips brushing against Carina’s forehead, her fingers playing with the ends of Carina’s hair.

Carina looks up and grins at her. The room lights up suddenly, soon followed by a crack of thunder, so loud it feels like the walls are shaking.

“I should go,” Carina says ruefully. She doesn’t usually stay overnight when Maya is working, knowing that she can only get away with distracting her for a short time before she returns to her usual ‘eyes forward’ mentality. Plus, she wants to be home before the storm gets any worse.

She tries to pull away, but Maya only holds her tighter.

“Maybe you could stay?” she says, a hopefulness in her voice. “Just for tonight? It’s dark outside and it’s raining. My arms are much safer.”

Her chest heaves, nervous for Carina’s answer. Sure, Carina has slept over at Maya’s apartment a lot but Maya has never asked her to stay. It is a vulnerability that Maya doesn’t usually show, an intimacy they haven’t shared yet.

She doesn’t need to be nervous. Carina’s eyes shine up at her, a smile spreading across her face.

“Si… yes, I’ll stay.”

She lifts herself up so she can embrace Maya in a gentle kiss, then snuggles back into her arms.

It is only then that Maya’s stomach rumbles, demanding food.

“You think that takeout is still edible?”

“Hmm maybe,” Carina says. “You’ll need to heat it up though.”

Maya huffs. “That would involve putting clothes on.” Instead, she makes herself more comfortable, wrapping her arms around Carina and resting her cheek against the top of her hair.

“Will you tell me about your day?”

“Which part?” Carina asks.

“Any part,” Maya says. “I just want to listen to your voice for a while.”

Romantic moment prompts

Thank you for the prompt @mayasdeluca - sorry for the delay, but I hope you like it!