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dcxdpdabbles · 3 days ago

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DC x DP fanfic Idea: Pin-Man and the Merry Metal-makers.

The Fenton children all have the misfortune of going home for the holidays and getting tangled up in their father's latest invention, where he, once again, forgot to carry the two. The invention was meant to teleport ghosts into the Ghost Portal as soon as they were captured.

It was supposed to be a long-overdue upgrade to the Fenton Thermos, which Jack had been eager to reveal. His children had all moved out, including the two clones of his son, who had morphed into their own person, and he had taken in as his kids, so it was a real treat to have them home.

Jazz and Dan were both in college four hours away. Jazz was studying psychology, and Dan was studying Law. The two had rented out a house together while working full-time jobs. Dan was one of the older students, but seeing as he hadn't been able to continue his education in his timeline, the Fentons felt like it was not "too late" when it meant learning.

Danny had chosen not to go to college but entered the trades. He had gotten into metal design and jewelry making and was currently learning to wield. Dani shared her brother's love of trade, but she focused more on metal and graphic design. They also lived alone in different apartments despite living in neighboring cities.

With everyone's conflicting schedules, they rarely, if ever, saw each other in person. Texts and phone calls were commonplace but it was nothing like waking up to the chatter of the children (Jack didn't care. They were all well into their twenties and early thirties. They would always be his children)

The holidays were the one time Jack and Maddie fought a year, so she didn't double-check his calculations before Jack fired off the thermos on Christmas morning. It, of course, malfunctioned, sucking in the Halfas twins first, then Dan, and finally, Jazz, who ran over to help, unaware it could pick up humans.

Jack had meant to create a ghost trapper with a self-emptying trash bag. Instead, he made a pocket teleporter. Only he had not designed a way to get what he teleported straight into the Ghost Zone back. Instead, he focused on making sure the ghost was flung as far away from the portal as it could teleport it to, in order to deter the ghost from coming back.

Even though Danny was no longer Phantom Two's protector, Jack and Maddie took up the job of keeping the town safe against ghosts that were actually harmful. It was a hassle having them come back after every fight.

It's safe to say that both Jack and Maddie put aside their yearly argument about Santa Claus to try to track down the children.

_____________________________________________________________

Meanwhile, the Fentons found themselves in the ghost zone, in an area none recognized, before realizing that Jazz could not fly. She plummeted towards the bottomless void, screaming at the top of her lungs, falling straight into a swirling portal of darkness.

Thanks to their ghost powers, the other three were able to get balanced in the air before shooting after her. They didn't care that the portal was colored differently; all that mattered was that one of them caught Jazz as she continued to fall, this time over the landscape of a rather grass field.

In the end, Dani was able to catch up to her, wrapping her arms around her sister and slowing them down into a gentle hover above the ground. The women sighed in relief until their thirty-two-year-old brother and the twenty-two-year-old brother landed on them because their powers fizzed out, shifting them back into humans.

Groans and swears were heard as they quickly unpiled. Dani was also now a human, sporting a large bruise on her back for her troubles.

"Where are we?" She asked, looking around. The large grass field was smacked in the middle of a large desert forest and an even larger city far away.

"Don't know," Dan mutters, clenching and unclenching his fist. "But wherever we are, it's not letting me go ghost."

"Me either," Danny reveals, jumping on the balls of his feet. "Can't even produce ice."

"If your powers aren't working, something happened to your ectoplasm filter." Jazz concludes grimly, rubbing at her ankle with one hand. It had twisted when Danny landed on her. She was staring at her wristwatch, to which their mom had attached an ectoplasm reader. "The ectoplasm levels in the air are so low they're practically non-existent. This isn't our Earth."

"Communication is down too," Dani sighs, staring at the glowing blue screen of her phone, which her parents modified to work in the Ghost Zone, singing on her face. "Can't even get a signal"

"Typically of Dad getting us stranded in a different dimension." Jazz grumbles, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "At least mid-terms ended."

"Amen to that," Dan says before straightening his back and clapping his hands. "Alright. We need to make a plan. Let's go into the city, find out if the currency they use is similar to ours, and get food and shelter if it is. How much money do you all have?"

"I'm literally in pajamas covered in Christmas trees," Dani deadpans. "I have no cash on me at all."

"You're worthless. Next?"

"I also have no money," Jazz winces, gesturing to her plain blue silk pajama set (a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of pants). "I left it in my purse."

Dan rubs his face. He's also clad in pajamas, but he has a checker red and black bottom that didn't match the green shirt with the printed words Comrade of the Grinch. "I have ten dollars because I was going to run down the street and buy eggnog with cookies from that little neighbor girl. Mom handed me the money and told me to go after breakfast."

"I have nine hundred and fifty," Danny announces, ruffling in his jeans pocket until he finds the wad of cash. Everyone stares at him in utter bafflement until he shrugs. "I was going to meet up with Sam and Tucker after breakfast. We were going to gamble a little."

"You call nine-hundred and fifty a little!?"

"Oh no, I owe Tucker seven hundred dollars for that laptop he fixed up for me a few weeks ago. I tried to send it through the virtual payment apps, but his account got locked, so it had to be in cash." Danny waves away their concerns. "I'm sure he won't mind if I ask him to wait until the banks open again."

"Alright. We have a plan and funds- hopefully- let's go." Dan says, moving towards the city. He walks by a sign that reads Welcome to Gotham.

"How bad can this place be?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\

Bruce eyed the screen with wary eyes. The still image of the four siblings didn't change, nor did their bright smiles and strange offits.

It's been six months since the strangers blew into town. Bruce hadn't been able to find evidence of them beforehand, nor did he have a clear picture of their timeline.

What he did know was that sometime in December, the four siblings, going by the last name Fenton, had wandered into a second-hand store, bought a change of outfits, and vanished into the city.

They popped up again three weeks later at a local artist festival. Danny, one of the twins, had rented a booth to sell enamel pins of strangely designed ghosts. He claimed to have created them, and his sister had helped design them.

The following week, his siblings were reported for selling metal wear on the side of the road. It's illegal in Old Gotham to sell things without a license, and it had been run out by the police. They returned soon after with a permit that, despite looking as accurate as can be, was not filed in the city's databases until five days later.

Of course, he would not know any of these until he started building an investigation. What caused this investigation? The Fentons had been inside Scarecrow's latest lair as his most recent test subjects.

The only thing was that, despite the various experiments done on them, none of the Fentons showed any sign of being affected by the needle injections. If anything, they seemed more inconvenienced than frightened by their capture.

Scarecrow had concluded the same thing as Bruce. None of the four Fentons were humans, but for some reason, they were hiding among the human race as metal artists selling enamel pins and metal artwork.

Bruce wasn't sure where they were staying, what they were planning, or what they were after. He would have been okay with leaving them alone, except Damian had reported that the Pin-Man, aka Danny Fenton, had not only spotted him when Robin was doing a stake out of a possible high-ranking member of a mob but had gotten close enough to try and sell him some pins of Damian's favorite anime.

How did he know what show his son liked to watch, and how did he get close enough to a highly trained assassin who didn't notice him until it was too late?

Also, why did Damian buy nine? All questions Bruce needed to have answered.

Bruce Wayne should try to find out what other kinds of pins his son would like if Damian hasn't already bought the whole series. He'll have to stop at the rumored areas where the metal workers were said to be operating.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Pin-man and Merry Metal-Markers #Jack got the kids stranded #The Fenton siblings in Gotham #They look sus #They are human but they evolved differently due to the ectoplasm of their world #It would be the same if the O was higher we have bigger bugs #They been there for months #Damian was so excited to have his favorite anime #Crack taken seriously

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shikaizer · 1 day ago

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pillowtalk. jujuwatkins x reader.

drinking too much, your behaviour got out of line, so your friends decided to call your emergency contact.

alcohol.

you didnt mean to get that drunk, it was just supposed to be a chill nigh, some drinks, some laughs, your friends all crammed into sara’s apartment, music bouncing off the walls, you felt good, free, even, but then someone pulled out the tequila.

you dont remember how many shots you had, just that the room started swaying, and your voice got louder, your jokes messier, your dancing a little too wild, somewhere between knocking over a drink and trying to climb onto the kitchen counter to make a speech, you saw the looks exchange between your friends.

“shes too far gone.”

“should we call someone?”

“who even is her emergency contact?”

there was a pause before someone said her name “juju?” you couldnt stop smiling when she showed up, her face was a little tired, her hair in a bun that you always loved, the same old black hoodie that you used to steal from her.

“hey” she said, and you stumbled straight into her arm "juju! You came! i missed you, i missed you so much” you mumbled against her neck.

she steadied you without a word, guiding you out the door, down the stairs, into the night air, the streetlights blurred as she half carried you toward her car.

“you smell the same” you said, juju let out a quiet breath, didnt say anything, just helped you into the passenger seat.

you kept talking the whole ride “did you ever think about calling me? cause i thought about it, a lot.”

she gave a little shake of her head, eyes focused on the road, you didnt notice the way her jaw clenched “i kept your hoodie" you added, letting your head rest against the window “i still sleep with it sometimes, it smells like you"

by the time you made it to her place, you could barely stand, but she didnt complain, she helped you out of the car, her hand wrapped firmly around yours.

inside, everything looked the same, the same plants you used to water, the same painting you both hated but never took down, it felt like time had barely moved here, even if everything between you two had.

you sat on the edge of the couch, swaying slightly, she knelt down in front of you to untie your shoes.

“i never stopped loving you” you slurred, eyes locking with hers for one breathless second,she froze.

you reached for her hand, clumsily, and whispered “i still do.”

she didnt say anything, just pulled a blanket around your shoulders, stood, and turned off the light.

but before she walked out of the room, you said it again this time, softer “still you, juju, always you.” you didnt see it, but she stayed standing in the doorway long after you fell asleep.

your head is pounding, not the kind of dull ache you can brush off with coffee and a shower, the full body kind, like your brain is trying to piece together what happened while your body begs you not to move too fast.

you blink against the soft light pouring into the room, this isnt your place,the couch beneath you is too firm, the throw blanket unfamiliar, but the scent? that scent is painfully familiar, vanilla. a hint of cedar, something warm and entirely her.

you sit up slowly, the blanket slipping off your shoulders, and then it hits you all at once, the night before, the drinking, the chaos, your friends calling someone, calling her, Juju.

you buried your face in your hands, what did you say? what did you do? “hey” her voice breaks through the fog, Soft, Steady.

shes in the doorway, hair messy, holding two mugs of coffee "i wasnt sure if you’d want tea or coffee" she says, carefully, as if you might run.

you swallow “coffee’s perfect” she hands it to you without a word and sits on the arm of the couch, keeping a respectful distance.

“i, uh… sorry” you manage “about last night, i didnt mean to drag you into that” she shrugs “your friends didn’t know who else to call.”

you wrap your fingers around the warm mug, staring into it like it might give you answers “did I say anything… awful?” you ask, your voice small.

she huffs out a short breath, almost a laugh, almost a sigh “you said a lot.” you wince “figures.”

“you said you missed me, that you still loved me.” your eyes shoot up to meet hers “i was drunk.”

“i know” she looks away “but drunk words… theyre honest sometimes.” your quiet for a long moment, then “it wasnt a lie.” that gets her attention.

“i meant it" you continue, heart pounding “i never stopped missing you, i just didnt think you’d want to hear it." her expression softens, and for the first time, she looks a little unsure.

“then maybe” she says, barely above a whisper, “you should say it again, sober.” you set the mug down, stand up slowly, walk the small distance between you and her, close enough to feel the warmth from her body.

“i miss you, juju" you say “i still love you.”

she doesnt speak, she just leans in and kisses you soft, familiar, and in that moment, with the taste of her coffee still on your lips and her hands slipping around your waist.

"fuck— i missed you too."

masterlist.

🔖 — @addl0vee @tndaqlwifwy @mrsarnold @melpthatsme @bellaprintz25 @janaelalfysblunt @ellehoops @belsoulss @apbueckers @uwupaige @janaelalfysloml @paige05bby @azzisbueckers @paigeluvvr @giavonnii @taylynbueckers44 @jupitermoonbaby @shootingstarrrrr @dalilahissilly @luldejamleer @d7dream @gabbyygoo @bravemode

#juju watkins fanfic #juju watkins smut #juju watkins x reader #juju x reader #juju watkins imagine #juju watkins #lesbian #wlw #wlw smut #wbb

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bullet-prooflove · 3 days ago

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Miami: Dom Pascal x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @buckysteveloki-me @emma-dawson @noxytopy @toasted-stiletto

Companion piece to:

Slutty - You remind Dom that he has a wife to come home to.

The reason the two of you moved from Miami is because you got a promotion, at least that’s what Dom tells everyone. To be fair there’s some truth in it. You were promoted to Captain of the Major Accident Investigation Unit, it just took two bullets and a fuck load of physiotherapy to get you there.

You used to work Auto Theft back in Miami, high end luxury vehicles were your jam. You’d spend hours at the dining room table, poring over the specs for Lamborghinis, Ferraris and Porsches, working out clever ways that thieves could bypass the security systems and then you’d utilise it against them. It had gotten you a great rep, it had also put you on the radar of some really bad guys, the type that didn’t like the dent you were making in their luxury car theft business. These guys, they steal to order, ship overseas and when they don’t make their quota, it makes them look unreliable, it loses clients and the millions of dollars that comes with them.

That’s why they decide to put two bullets in your chest as you step out the house one morning.

Dom had been in the kitchen, tidying away the breakfast dishes when the gunshots tore through the neighbourhood. He’d been on that porch in an instant, found you lying there, trying to stifle the bleeding with your own two hands.

“They put a hit out on her.” He was told in the aftermath by one of your colleagues, his hands shaking, still covered in your blood. “We’ll give you protection for as long as we can but I suggest you consider getting out of the city for a while once she’s stable. An investigation like this, it can take some time to nail down all the key players.”

“Illinois far enough?” He asks because that’s where the two of you used to live before you’d both taken off for the warmer climate.

“Their reach, it doesn’t extend out there.” He’s told and the decision was made, at least for him.

For you it takes the promise of a vintage car, something you can make a project out of while you’re recovering on medical leave because not having something to do with yourself, it makes you a little crazy. He discovered that after you took the coffee machine apart trying to figure out what the clicking noise was when it emitted hot water during week two of your recovery.

It makes the transition all the more smoother when you do make the move because you have something to look forward to instead of fretting about what you were leaving behind. Plus it’s easier to get vintage car parts in Chicago than it is in Miami so that’s a big bonus for you, in fact he thinks that was the selling point.

“How’s it coming?” He asks, popping his head into the garage after his shift at 51. There’s music blaring from the Alexia you set up in here, 80s hard rock. He turns it off when ‘Never Say Goodbye’ by Bon Jovi comes on because it hits a little too close to home even after three months.

“Me and the car are getting on great.” You tell him as you propel yourself out from underneath the cherry red Chevelle on the creeper. You’re wearing your navy blue overalls cinched at the waist and a white sports bra that’s smeared with oil. His gaze comes to rest on the two scars peeking out just under the neckline, the bullet wounds that almost killed you.

“But…” He drawls.

“But I could do with a hand getting up because it hurts like a fucker every time I try.”

He knows that’s probably because of the position you’ve been working in. On your back with your arms up, tinkering with the undercarriage of car. That kind of thing puts a strain on your chest, especially in the place that’s currently weakened from the injury.

“Alright honey.” He says kneeling down beside you. “Let’s get you up.”

His palm cradles nape of your neck, supporting it as you loop your good arm around his shoulders for leverage. He gently guides you up into a sitting position and you hiss through your teeth as you lean back against the grill of the car.

He heads back into the kitchen, retrieving your painkillers and the plastic cup of mango boba tea he brought home with him from that little place around the corner from the firehouse. It’s the only thing you really miss about leaving Miami, you’d told him last night.

“My hero.” You mutter as he uncaps the childproof lock and pours two of the tablets into your palm. You wash them down with boba tea before sighing contently as you sip through the straw.

“Maybe we leave messing around underneath the car until you’re a bit further along with your recovery, focus on the engine instead.” He says coming to sit down beside you. You offer him the boba and he shakes his head. “No, that’s all for you sweetheart.”

“I don’t make things easy do I?” You say quietly, tipping your head back to rest on the car. “I don’t know how you live with me sometimes.”

“Happily.” He says frankly, his hand comes to cup your cheek, guiding your gaze back to his so you can see the sincerity in him. “Life before you was static, it was grey and uninspired but then I met you and it’s like I could see colour for the first time. Brillant, bold, vibrant, it was beautiful and I never wanna lose that, I never wanna lose you…”

“But you almost did.” You whisper as his eyes lower back down to those scars, the ones that are embedded in your skin.

“That was the hardest day of my life, imagining a world without you in it.” He says, his voice a little rough as his fingertips trace over the marks. “So moving back to Chicago to keep you safe, it wasn’t even a tough choice. It was just something that had to happen to make sure that I could spend the rest of my life with you, the way we promised each other we would.”

“We did do that didn’t we?” You murmur, your forehead coming to rest upon his. “We said forever and a day.”

“Yes honey.” He whispers, tasting the mango on your lips as he kisses you. “We certainly did.”

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#dom pascal #dom pascal x reader #dominic pascal #dominic pascal x reader #chicago fire

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deadlysoupy · 16 hours ago

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here's a tfe starbee request: post breakbee breakup, bumblebee wants to make breakdown jealous. starscream has been dealing with annoying comments from megatron since their divorce the end of the war and wants to make a point about him not needing megatron. they get together as each others rebounds and end up catching feelings for each other.

or, alternatively, bumblebee defending starscream from megatron's comments about how starscream is too evil to be allowed to exist in the world unsupervised. they aren't even together and don't even get along at this point but it makes starscream go heart eyes (spark eyes?) because other than hashtag no one's ever stood up to megatron for him.

this one took a while but hey, it's here and it turned out better than i thought it would! (quick note tho for the future: you guys should know i'm not one for "rebound" ships. or jealousy, unless it's starscream. there are some lines i dont want to cross and this is one of them. just letting you know that, unless an alternative is provided, like here, i will not write a "rebound" fic)

(Read here on AO3)

The day has not been going well for Starscream.

If he was being completely honest with himself, he's had a consecutive streak of bad luck looming over his helm. Ever since he was imprisoned, come to think of it. He's had it pretty well during their "stalemate" with the Autobots and the Maltos, but it was nothing he would describe as "lucky".

He ultimately failed in his mission to finally have a home, but that wasn't anything new.

Now, he's forced to share space with the person who pushed him so far into insanity, and he doesn't know what to do with himself.

Mainly, Starscream has learned to avoid confrontation with Megatron, no matter how impossible that seemed. It was working — for some time.

This day turned out to be an exception.

They cross each other in the maintenance room. Starscream needs to upload intel on their new human relations — he didn't read the file, it was too processor-numbing for him — and it seemed like Megatron ended up with the same objective. It had still felt like a strange vision, that Megatron would ever do someone's bidding that easily. The room was small, barely enough for three bots, and given Megatron's frame… well. One could say the air started suffocating Starscream pretty fast.

He grits his denta and reaches out his servo to the main panel.

Apparently, that was the wrong move to make. Megatron regards him with a "look", his size — as always — looming over him, murderous optics drilling into his spark.

"What do you think you're doing, Starscream."

He doesn't shudder under the threatening tone. He needs to keep calm, or it will blow his whole plan out of proportion.

"I'm doing my job, Megatron," he answers, staying as still as possible. "Or is this not what I'm supposed to do?"

The warframe clicks his denta. "You never do your job. There's always something with you."

"I've been nothing but compliant with you Autobots ever since you oh so kindly let me out," he can't help but sneer in response. "I have no reason to do harm, so you should just let me do what I came here to do."

Megatron unleashes his pointed dentas, glinting under the artificial lighting of the room. "I wonder how long this charade of yours will keep working, Starscream. We both know you aren't doing your job out of well intentions — your spark will always be rotten."

And Starscream would have agreed with him on any other day. On any other occasion. He would have glowed in the praise, would have considered it to be the mightiest words of affirmation he's ever heard, and he would have gone on his merry way.

But he wasn't going to let this go. He can't keep pretending to like this presence, this… humiliation. Hashtag, the Terrans, and one other particular bot taught him otherwise.

Starscream's backstrut straightens, high on alert, voice loud. "You may believe whatever you want, Lord Megatron, but I deserve to be here just as you do. You've earned your chance to keep your place among the Autobots, and I should have the space to be able to do the same. Unless… you actually don't deserve to be here? Unless you're just the same arrogant fool you've always—"

A servo squeezes Starscream's shoulder and the plating creaks under it. Starscream's frame buckles, but stands firm. "Shut your ammering, Starscream, or I'll remind you why I don't trust your miserable spark with anything of importance."

"What's going on here?" Bumblebee's voice comes from the entrance. Starscream won't admit it out loud, but he's glad to hear it. The Autobot has been the only one keeping him sane in all of his time outside of the brig.

"Nothing, Bumblebee," Megatron regards him with a short look. His servo moves away from Starscream's shoulder — the ping of pain runs across his entire frame, but it goes away quickly. Luckily, Megatron wasn't able to do a lot of damage. "I was simply concerned that Starscream had malicious intentions. Nothing more."

Bumblebee arches an optic ridge, first at Megatron, then at Starscream, who looks away from them both. He was not going to get involved anymore. It would only make things worse.

"Right," Bee says. "So, that's solved, then? Can't you… I don't know… be nice now?"

"Are you insinuating I wasn't, Bumblebee?"

And when that tone is directed at Bumblebee, Starscream's gears are twitching. He almost wants to open his mouth to retort, but Bee beats him to it.

"Well, by the sound of it — no, you really weren't. Yeah, I've been listening," the scout folds his servos. Star glances at him, and the stance almost mesmerises him. He's completely calm… while scolding Megatron. "I know you're trying, Megs, but come on. We need to be better than this. I'll admit, Starscream can be a little… a lot to handle, but if you deserved even a smidge of doubt, then he does, too. He's not that bad once you get to know him. You don't need to second-guess his every move. Just… be patient, okay?"

Starscream isn't sure whether he should be offended, touched, or enraged at Bumblebee's comments.

In the end, he settles on amused. He doesn't recall a time when someone would defend him and, at the same time, be so very kind to someone like Megatron. It's something Bumblebee masters to an art form. And he's growing to appreciate it.

Despite his efforts not to, a smile makes its way on Starscream's face. He turns his helm before anyone notices.

Megatron huffs air out of his vents. "You're right. We should… cooperate," he sounds like he's fighting the words actively coming out of his mouth. Starscream hopes it hurts to say them. "I'll come back later, when it's less crowded. Good day, Bumblebee."

"You, too."

When Megatron leaves, Starscream still has a smile on his face.

"That was some lecture you gave there, little Bee."

Bumblebee shrugs and walks up to Starscream. "Yeah, well, sometimes the guy forgets who's on which side. Gotta approach everyone differently, y'know?"

And there was also that. How Bumblebee chose his words carefully, suiting it for whoever the bot was talking to. It reminded Starscream of himself, in a way, and made Bumblebee all the more… interesting to interact with.

Bumblebee's nonchalance turns into concern. "He didn't… hurt you, did he?"

Judging by the way Bee glances at his shoulder, any answer might set off alarm bells in the Autobot's processor, so there was no way of hiding it. "Perhaps. Nothing I can't handle, though."

Bumblebee frowns. "Are you sure? Do you want me to… I don't know, stay with you?"

A grin snakes up Starscream's faceplate. "What, worried about little old me, Honeybee? Have no fear — I am perfectly operational. Besides, I'm sure you have your own duties to attend to."

The bot wants to protest, an objection on his lipplates, but a blush takes over on his faceplate, and the thought is forgotten. "…sure. I'll… see you later?"

"Oh, you will," Starscream coos, and Bumblebee turns tail as fast as that.

Despite his tremendous desire to shoo Bumblebee out of the room, it's now sparkless and empty. Starscream clutches his shoulder, still aching, but on its way to recovery. He'll manage without help, as he always had.

Next time, perhaps, Bumblebee. Next time.

#you get so many posts out of me ab starbee today #i dunno im just. eugh #you get starbee overdose and you wont read anything of my own again #i promise i'll calm down a little soon #transformers #maccadam #transformers earthspark #tfe #bumblebee #starscream #tfe bumblebee #tfe starscream #starbee #my writing #tfe megatron #megatron

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winterlico · 9 hours ago

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TANGLED IN YOU ᰔ sim jaeyun .ᐟ

ᯓ★ pairing : gryffindor!Jake x slytherin!fem!reader / fluff , , lots of teasing , makeout ᝰ.ᐟ

2.721 ｡ you thought Jake Sim’s relentless teasing was just a game. Now, you’re stuck between frustration and something far more irresistible.

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You were used to Jake Sim’s antics by now. The Gryffindor golden boy—Head Boy, Quidditch Captain, and an insufferable flirt. He had an uncanny ability to get under your skin, weaving his way into your life with relentless charm and a glint of mischief in his honey-brown eyes. If it weren’t for the fact that you were the top Slytherin student, you’d have long since hexed him into next week just to get a moment’s peace.

But you had a reputation to maintain. Composed, calculating, always in control, never showing a crack in the carefully curated persona that had made you one of the most respected—and feared—students in Slytherin.

“Come on, love, don’t look at me like that.” His voice, thick with amusement, interrupted your thoughts as he leaned lazily against the towering bookshelf in the library, his posture a stark contrast to the studious atmosphere around you.

He was watching you, as he always did, with that knowing smirk on his lips, an air of confidence that seemed to settle over him like a second skin. The golden glow from the lanterns flickered against his face, highlighting the sharp lines of his cheekbones and the cocky gleam in his eyes. He had no business looking that good when he was being this insufferable.

You didn’t move, didn’t even blink. Instead, you met his gaze with an impassive stare, arms crossed tightly over your chest, your expression giving away nothing. “Like what?” you asked, voice cool, uninterested.

“Like you secretly enjoy my company but are too proud to admit it.” He didn’t hesitate, the words rolling off his tongue effortlessly as if he were stating an undeniable fact. He always did this—played this game with you, pushed you, prodded, teasingly walked the line between arrogance and charm, waiting for you to slip, for you to react.

You exhaled sharply through your nose, an unimpressed scoff as you shifted your weight slightly. “In your dreams, Sim.”

“Oh, believe me, you’re in plenty of those,” he shot back, his grin widening as your lips pressed into a tight line. His confidence was infuriating.

Jake Sim was relentless. No matter how many times you tried to brush him off, he kept coming back, like a stubborn cat refusing to be ignored. He had a way of making even the simplest conversations into a verbal game of cat and mouse, and it was impossible not to get caught in his rhythm.

To everyone else, he was the epitome of Gryffindor charm—bold, confident, an exceptional student. But with you? He was something else entirely. Playful, persistent, and annoyingly endearing in a way you refused to acknowledge.

If there was one thing that fueled the already complicated dynamic between you and Jake, it was Quidditch. You were Slytherin’s Seeker, and he was Gryffindor’s. Two of the best players in the school, locked in an unspoken battle of pride and skill that the entire student body kept a close eye on. Every match was an event, a spectacle that had students choosing sides long before the game even began.

The day of the big match was no different. The stadium was alive with excitement, the air thick with the roar of the crowd. The sun hung high, casting golden light across the pitch, illuminating the sea of green and red scarves that fluttered in the stands. Your grip tightened around the handle of your broom, fingers curling instinctively as you took a steadying breath.

“Try not to miss me too much when I leave you in the dust,” Jake’s voice carried easily over the noise, drawing your attention to where he stood a few feet away, his broom slung casually over his shoulder, his grin a little too confident for your liking. His stance was easy, relaxed, as if he weren’t about to launch into one of the most intense matches of the season.

You barely spared him a glance. “I’ll be sure to wave when I’m ahead.”

His laughter was rich, warm, and far too amused. “See, this is why I like you.”

Before you could formulate a response, the whistle blew, and the world shifted. The moment your feet left the ground, the adrenaline kicked in, the thrill of the chase overtaking every other thought. The wind howled past your ears, the crowd’s cheers fading into a dull roar as your focus narrowed to one thing—the Snitch.

Jake was fast. That much had always been true. But you were clever, sharp, able to anticipate his moves before he even made them. Every feint, every sudden dive, you were right there, matching him stride for stride. The tension was unbearable, the air thick with competition as you both pushed your brooms to their limits. Then, just ahead, a glimmer of gold.

Your heart leapt, your body reacting instinctively. But Jake saw it too.

“May the best Seeker win, princess,” he called over the wind, his voice filled with challenge.

“You’re looking at her,” you shot back, leaning forward, pushing harder.

It was neck and neck. The entire school held its breath as the two of you raced toward victory. And then, just as your fingers were about to close around the Snitch, Jake made a reckless move—swerving directly into your path.

The impact was immediate. A tangle of limbs, the world spinning, the weightlessness of falling before the crash of reality as you both hit the ground in a heap. The gasp of the crowd barely registered over the pounding of your pulse.

Jake groaned beneath you, breathless laughter escaping his lips. “Well, that was dramatic.”

You blinked, dazed, realizing just how close your faces were. His brown eyes flickered with amusement, his expression annoyingly charming even in his disheveled state.

“Get off me,” you muttered, your face uncomfortably warm.

“You sure? You look awfully comfortable,” he teased, voice low, smug.

Your glare was scorching, but you didn’t push him away immediately. You hated that his proximity sent your pulse into an erratic rhythm. Hated the way he looked at you—like he enjoyed every second of annoying you.

He lifted his hand, and there, between his fingers, was the Snitch.

Jake grinned. “Looks like I win this round.”

The Gryffindor stands erupted in cheers, but you barely registered the noise. All you could focus on was the way your chest tightened at his victory, not out of bitterness, but because of something else entirely—something you weren’t ready to name.

That night, you found yourself on the Astronomy Tower, the cool night air a welcome relief. The stars stretched endlessly above, a reminder of how small everything felt in moments like this. But, of course, you weren’t alone for long.

“You always pick the best spots,” Jake’s voice broke through the quiet, his presence settling beside you.

“Should’ve known you’d show up,” you muttered, crossing your arms.

“I wasn’t joking earlier,” he said after a moment, his voice steady. “I like you.”

The words hung between you, fragile and heavy all at once.

You swallowed, heart hammering. “Jake—”

“Just think about it,” he murmured, stepping close enough that the warmth of him reached you.

And, for the first time, you didn’t push him away.

For days after your encounter on the Astronomy Tower, Jake’s words became an unwanted echo in your head, replaying at the most inconvenient moments. His voice was relentless, a constant hum in the back of your mind, wrapping itself around your thoughts like a stubborn vine. You hated it. Hated how easily he had embedded himself there, as if he had always belonged in the quiet corners of your mind. Even worse, you hated the way the memory of his presence lingered—the warmth of his breath, the weight of his gaze, the way the air had crackled with something unspoken between you.

You told yourself it was nothing. A fleeting moment. A trick of the atmosphere, of the night, of exhaustion. But deep down, you knew better. Jake had looked at you like he knew something you didn’t, like he had already seen how this story would unfold, and the mere thought of it sent irritation prickling up your spine.

Avoiding him became your primary goal, but that was easier said than done. Jake Sim was impossible to ignore. He existed everywhere—at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, flashing you that insufferable smirk over breakfast; in the corridors, his shoulder brushing yours as he passed, as if by accident, though you knew better; even in the library, where he had never once cared for studying, but now seemed to have developed a sudden, suspicious interest in “reading” just a few tables away from you.

And he was always watching.

That was the worst part. The weight of his eyes on you, a silent challenge, daring you to acknowledge him, to react. You refused. You kept your expression blank, your posture rigid, your focus sharp. But inside, you could feel the cracks forming, the tension coiling tighter with every stolen glance, every near touch, every knowing smile that curled his lips.

It came to a head one afternoon outside the Great Hall. You had turned a corner too quickly, nearly colliding with him. His hands came up instinctively, fingers curling around your wrists to steady you. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through your skin, and you stiffened.

“Merlin, love, you in a hurry to get somewhere? Or just desperate to see me?” His voice was teasing, but there was something else in his eyes—something unreadable.

You jerked your hands away. “Neither. Just unlucky.”

Jake tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “Unlucky? You wound me.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Do you actually have somewhere to be, or do you just enjoy being in my way?”

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to make your breath catch. “Oh, I enjoy a lot of things, princess. Watching you pretend I don’t get under your skin is at the top of the list.”

Your lips parted, but no words came. He had won this round, and he knew it. With one last lingering glance, he stepped aside, allowing you to pass, but not before brushing his fingers lightly against yours in a barely-there touch that sent shivers down your spine.

It was getting under your skin. Slowly, inevitably. And no matter how hard you fought against it, you were losing.

You were doomed.

It was late, the castle halls empty as you made your way back to the Slytherin common room. You had stayed behind after a late-night study session in the library, enjoying the solitude, the silence that came with the late hours. But as you turned a corner, you found yourself face-to-face with the one person you had been trying to avoid.

“Princess.”

You sighed heavily. “Sim.”

He grinned, stepping closer, his presence warm in the cool corridor. “Avoiding me?”

You rolled your eyes, brushing past him. “I have better things to do.”

But Jake wasn’t one to be dismissed so easily. He fell into step beside you, his hands tucked into his pockets, his voice deceptively light. “You’ve been acting strange. More than usual.”

You kept walking, ignoring the way your heart pounded just a little harder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He sighed dramatically. “You wound me. And here I thought we had a moment up on that tower.”

You froze. Just for a second, but it was enough for Jake to notice. He turned to face you fully, the teasing edge in his voice softening. “Did I say something wrong?”

You inhaled sharply, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “Jake, you—”

“Like you?” he finished, his voice steady. “Yeah, I do. And I’m tired of pretending I don’t.”

The air between you shifted, something heavy settling in the silence. Your instinct was to deflect, to push him away like you always did. But this time, you hesitated.

And Jake, ever perceptive, caught it.

Slowly, he stepped forward, closing the space between you. His voice was quieter now, lacking the usual teasing lilt. “I’m not asking for an answer right now. I just need you to know.”

You swallowed, feeling your pulse in your throat. “Jake…”

He reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering just a second too long. “Goodnight, princess.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing in the corridor, heart pounding, mind reeling.

You were really, truly doomed.

Avoidance was no longer an option. After another week of stolen glances and accidental brushes of hands, you found yourself seeking Jake out instead of running from him.

You found him by the Black Lake, his back against a tree, flipping absently through a book. The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the lake, the water shimmering as the breeze carried the scent of damp earth and pine. He looked up as you approached, a slow, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Finally came to your senses?”

You exhaled, crossing your arms, steeling yourself against the pounding in your chest. “Don’t start.”

He smirked but said nothing, waiting. Always waiting.

“I don’t know what this is,” you admitted, the words tasting foreign on your tongue. “But I do know I can’t get you out of my head.”

His eyes darkened slightly, the teasing gone. He studied you carefully, the silence stretching between you like an unspoken challenge. Then, his voice came lower, steadier. “So stop trying.”

The breeze carried his words straight to your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You opened your mouth, then closed it, unsure of what to say, unsure if you wanted to fight him or let yourself fall. But Jake didn’t let you think too long. He took a step forward, then another, until you could feel the heat of him, the barely restrained energy in the air between you.

“Tell me to walk away,” he murmured, voice laced with something deeper, something desperate. “Tell me, and I will.”

You swallowed hard. You should. You should tell him to go, to leave this ridiculous push-and-pull where it was, but your lips betrayed you. “I don’t want you to.”

That was all it took. His hands found your waist, fingers pressing against the fabric of your robes as if he needed to feel something solid to anchor himself. His lips met yours, not gently, not cautiously, but with the force of everything unsaid between you.

The world blurred. There was no Hogwarts, no lake, no rivalry—just the warmth of his mouth, the press of his body against yours as he kissed you like he had been waiting for this moment forever. His fingers curled tighter around your waist, pulling you impossibly close, as if he could merge you together, as if letting go wasn’t an option.

You gasped against his lips, and he took the opportunity, deepening the kiss, his breath mingling with yours in a dance of desperate want and unspoken emotions. His hands slid up your back, his touch searing, his body trembling slightly against yours as if he couldn’t quite believe this was real.

By the time you broke apart, your breaths were ragged, your pulse a chaotic rhythm against your ribs. His forehead pressed against yours, his eyes still closed as if he were trying to hold onto the moment just a little longer.

“I was going to say that I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admitted, voice rough. “But I think you already knew that.”

You let out a breathless laugh, fingers still gripping the fabric of his sweater. “Yeah,” you whispered, voice steadier than you felt. “I think I did.”

Jake’s lips curled into a small, breathless smile before he kissed you again, slower this time, lingering, savoring—as if he had all the time in the world to make up for the moments you had wasted fighting this.

And for once, you let him.

#enhypen #enhypen fic #enha fluff #enhypen jake #enhypen x reader #jake sim #jake x reader #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun x reader #jake fluff

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redfacedpalindrome · 2 days ago

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I get your sentiment. I really do. Realistically though: where would Charles go?

McLaren is committing to Lando and Oscar long term.

The rumours regarding Red Bull‘s motor for the new regs is that it lacks and will fall behind the others. Since a lot depends on the motor it’s not a really viable option imo.

If Mercedes decides to part ways with Russell the will go for Max because he’s „the one that got away“ and a four time WDC.

Aston? Who knows. One seat is deffo taken by Stroll, the other? Probably Yuki since Aston will have a Honda motor.

I‘m not sure I see the others being competitive and even if, the would have to kick other drivers out first and I don’t necessarily think they‘d do it for Charles.

Look, I am all for Charles having a competitive car and a team that backs him no matter what. I want him to win a WDC - I need it - and for his sake I hope it’s with Ferrari but honestly I don’t care as long as he gets to have the trophy and have his name on it.

Next year the playing field is level with the new regs. Charles doesn’t want to leave and the risk is even greater next year because what if Ferrari has a great car and he left?

Unfortunately, I think, what’s actually a great character trait will be Charles‘ downfall- his loyalty. He’s too devoted to Ferrari to leave. There were a lot of rumours of him having talks with other teams in 2023 but in the end he re-signed with Ferrari early. So I’m not so sure about him leaving. I think he has to make up his mind: does he want to be a Ferrari driver or a world champion. But then again, where would he go?

I am team Charles. I will always be. Hell, I have a tattoo for Charles so I wasn’t lying when I said that I need him to win but I genuinely don’t know what’s the best way for him to go from here.

it took me forever to get to this and i'm so sorry!!

short answer: you're completely 100% right. there's not a clear team that would sacrifice everything to have him, at least none that would be a clear step up from ferrari. you can't actually hypothesize that any team will always be on top – mercedes had a pretty mediocre year last year and I actually think they're a shoo-in for P2 this year.

let's take a look at the big 4:

mclaren: are going to sign lando's and oscar's grandkids at this point. it's an absolutely brilliant move from them, honestly. and lando absolutely deserves this kind of loyalty from the team now that they're brilliant, because he stuck through their bad years.

red bull: the engine switch is an absolute wrench in the 'lecbull' agenda. i think the reason so many people like this option is that red bull historically has had a lot of respect for charles, and they've shown that when they have a generational talent that they believe in, they'll throw their support and development behind them effectively. also, a lot of people think red bull will have an opening because max will leave to go to aston. here's the issue - if max leaves to go to aston martin, it'll be for a reason that could prevent charles from going to rb (like their 2026 development being completely freaking ass). if max is at red bull, unlikely they sign charles even if charles wants it (and charles won't want it).

also - with the exception of max and maybe seb before him, red bull is just an asshole to most of its drivers so do we really want charles there?

mercedes: toto has invested long term in kimi to be the new generational talent of formula 1 after this cohort – and as far as I can tell, it's a damn good investment. george is not someone who often draws your attention during a race (excluding turn one crashes) but no one can deny the fact that this man has become silently incredibly consistent. george recently is reliable in a way not a lot of drivers are and at some point we're going to have to talk about it. it would take a downturn in george's performance for mercedes to consider dropping him. i also don't know much about mercedes's 2026 development, so they could drop back to the middle of the pack-ish.

(...i am going to honorable mention aston martin because in my dream timeline they drop both lance and fernando (sorry to my kings) to sign lestappen and then newey just gives them a fucking rocket and they battle in equal machinery and we get a more wholesome brocedes (these will be my last words before i get put on a 72 hour psych hold))

so. does leclerc have a shot elsewhere? ...it really depends on how the other teams perceive charles. unfortunately charles does not have lewis-level street cred and probably can't pull a 'drop carlos from ferrari' kind of move.

so ferrari. my issue is honestly just that by all reports, ferrari is working better. better by what metric i'm completely lost on but ever since fred came in people have been saying all the right things? and yet the start of this season is arguably worse than 2023. also, i got this information off tumblr so take it with a pinch of salt but apparently their 2026 development isn't going so hot either. so if everything from their end feels okay and they're still shit that's honestly way more concerning than if people were regularly engaging in fistfights in maranello.

"Unfortunately, I think, what’s actually a great character trait will be Charles‘ downfall- his loyalty. He’s too devoted to Ferrari to leave." op, you're so right. and as a person with crazy ludicrous delusion-level loyalty myself, it's one of the reasons i love him. it's one of the unfortunate truths of the world that at some point in our lives we'll be loyal to a lord that won't have our backs in return. but the thing about f1 is that we remember champions. will ferrari ever be consistent enough to let him have a legacy? i think fred will try. but for a team that's so synonymous with motorsport greatness sometimes it feels like it's staffed entirely by nepo hires.

all in all, i don't think the question is how much longer should charles wait for the team to be great or how much longer can he wait – because the more topical question is how much longer will he wait? and we know the answer to that is: forever.

anyway if vcarb's development stays decent that might be the surprising solution to our problem (this is a joke, please don't invalidate my opinion based on my leclerc-vcarb-wdc agenda)

also can i ask a follow-up on the tattoo cos you said tattoo 'for' charles and not 'of' charles and i am now about 86% sure you have a tattoo of leo based solely on what would make charles happiest :)

#holy YAP i'm so sorry i wrote too much #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #charles leclerc #ferrari #cl16 #f1 2025 #mclaren #red bull racing #mercedes #aston martin #adrian newey #max verstappen #george russell #forza charles #but cl16 hamartia: unending loyalty really does round out the narrative

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tosxah · 3 days ago

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You know what, his reputation could take a bit of drooling false rumours. Not that many people would be able to deny it for him, not likes he's slept around or next to-... it hit him. Though typically he was a little oblivious to these things, he realised this could also shed a certain light on her too, possibly both of them. "Hmmm." He hummed with a smile boarding on sadistic. "I am willing to risk it. Imagine the rumours of the great Traveller knowing what a Harbinger looks like when they sleep..." He said nothing more.

Childe supposed he couldnt really blame her actions; the way she flinched and second guessed his motives. He might have tricked her into false security before but it blew up in his face just as quickly. He didn't like making the same mistake twice. And besides, his mission was to follow her, not harm her or stop her. He was a stickler for orders. Well- he delivered results, maybe just not in the way one would expect.

He easily supported her weight, as strong as she was she was still petit and barely reached his chest in height. A courteous smile was his reposnse to her thanks.

It went on. Almost worryingly so. The tunnels all looked the same more or less, if someone told him they were moving in circles he'd believe them.

Childe felt the way she pulled away slightly, he tried to reassure her wordlessly with a squeeze to her bare shoulder, he didn't mind the weight on him, he didn't mind supporting a... friend-enemy. A rival. They weren't sparing? Couldn't spar if they both die. It was in his interest to help her.

"Yeah." He agreed. No mora tossing. Not again. Thing is. They needed water. More than anything else at this point. Possibly rest too but water first. Childe looked between their choices. It seemed like a haunting illusion really, these tunnels might separate, one might lead to freedom or what they need but it was very possible they went no where, or even the same way. "Let me try... something." Childe took a breath. It wasn't a trick he had to use often, it wasn't like he tried to willing put himself into deep dark vast under ground spaces if he could help it. But it was worth a shot.

The silence was deafening. Not that his hearing was all that great but if they held their breath he was sure he'd go mad from the quiet. They needed water. They needed a moments respite. Water. He couldn't will water like he should, he tried so hard but it still wasn't enough. Arrows fail at too far a distance, his polearm disintegrates if he drops it for a moment too long. But his vision relies on water. He needs water to use it. It was an extension of him and his abilities. So therefore, possibly amplified by his delusion, sometimes he could 'sense' water. Whether it was clean or not was another story but actually locating something running would be a good start... "fuck" he mumbled under his breath with a sigh, slightly unsure of himself. He didn't like that feeling. No, he loathed it.

"This way." Childe gestured his head to the tunnel on their right. "We need to find something to drink, you need rest too." It also probably wouldn't be a bad idea to wash out his wound. They had no way of knowing how close or far they were to the end.

Ah-ha, she got him this time. She could see the doubt in his eyes, the clogs in his mind turning and working more seriously than she would have imagined.

"I thought you were willing to risk it, so now you know." She shrugged casually, a satisfied light in her weary eyes. And she didn't even bother to reply to his next question, she had known him long enough to be aware he definitely had a particular upbringing, to use simple words, but Harbinger's sense of humour was... Not very humorous.

Arms hanging to her side now, she watched him carefully stand by his side, his dirty uniform brushing against the bare skin of her bicep. Another flinch, another cautious look at his hand holding hers to place it on his shoulder.

He was so unnecessarily tall.

"So you threaten to pick me up without my consent, but you ask for permission to wrap around your arm around me." Yup, she could feel her head definitely throb now. She didn't like to rely on help, or at least not from anyone else who wasn't Aether. Relying on others meant to own something to them, showing a vulnerability she didn't want to admit.

Yet, she allowed Childe to get closer, her body stiffing around his arm only briefly, not used to that foreign contact. He would have to match his pace to hers, she realised, and wondered if that wouldn't cause more issues with his longer legs and not great teamwork skills between the two of them.

He smelled of Chasm, blood, and something fresher even if faint. She had a whiff of it since the first time they had met, but she still was not able to pinpoint that particular smell.

"Thank you." She could be stubborn, but she had manners. She allowed her weight to shift, as she tried to take the first step, her side basically fully lean on his, and for the first time, her ankle didn't scream in protest.

They just had to keep following these tracks and finally end this hopeless journey.

They found no exit from the tunnel, and they never found the familiar view of the first level of the Chasm. Another cavern opened before them, in which the tracks branched out in two different directions, and her head threatened to drop in frustation.

"Your call this time." She moved slightly to give him some rest from her weight.

Last time she tossed a Mora coin, the trip had ended very badly, so nope, she was not taking any decision this time.

#nagareboshiko #chasm

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bluemoviegirl · 23 hours ago

Text

UNDER THE SAME SUN CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 1

joel miller x reader, enemies to lovers

wc: 6.8k

tw: death, blood

summary: we finally get to know a bit more about your past, and another thursday with Joel!!

a/n: there'll be more interactions with joel soon guyz, right now they just really despise eachother <3. also, thanks for all the likes!! this chapter took a bit longer cause i'm super duper busy rn but honestly i'm just motivated to get them together. no rushing it though i love a good slow burn xoxo lmk what u thought i loveee getting comments 🩷

happy reading!! <3

It’s been 2 days since the repair job. It had upset you a lot more than you anticipated. That day had triggered the anxiety you thought you had stuffed so far down it would never dare come up again. And that was weird, you were tough. You’ve been tough. So what? A man got killed in front of you? You’d seen it many times before, you’ve been the one holding the gun so many times.

But the way you were dismissed, the way your presence meant nothing to him. How helpless you felt, your emotions had gone back in time. A time you had tried so hard to forget. The way Joel looked so unbothered by it all, he had looked more bothered about you yelling than the actual murder. It made you feel sick. It made you think of Dane.

10 years ago.

You weren’t supposed to be friends, not really. At first, you weren’t even sure you liked Lois. She was loud, brash, and a little too quick to joke in moments where you thought it wasn’t appropriate. But in a world like this, what else were you supposed to do? Sit in silence and wait to die?

It started like this: the first time you met her, it was over a stolen bag of chips. You were hiding out in a small, abandoned building, just trying to keep your head down. You had a decent stash of food, and you were about to enjoy your first real meal in days when you heard movement behind you. Your hand quickly went to your knife, but before you could even make a move, you saw her—Lois—grinning like she’d just hit the jackpot.

A girl your age, long brown hair put in a braid and thick straight eyebrows moving with every word she spoke. The same way your brows always speak before your mouth does.

"Those for me?" she’d asked, eyes twinkling, like she hadn’t just come out of the shadows like a damn ghost.

"Yeah, right," you muttered, not trusting her one bit. "Find your own."

But she was persistent, and after a few back-and-forths, you found yourself sharing what little you had. Lois didn’t have any food to offer, but she did have something else: stories and jokes.

She talked about her life before all of this—what it was like to have a family, a home, a normal life. It was strange to hear someone speak about it so casually, as if the world hadn’t completely changed. For a moment, it felt like the world was just… normal again.

"You know," Lois said, chewing slowly as she looked out the window, "I used to hate rain. Could never get my hair right."

You snorted, a little caught off guard. "Sounds rough."

She laughed, leaning back against the wall. "Yeah, you’re right. Now? I’d give anything for a real storm. Some kind of normal weather. Anything that doesn’t feel like it’s out of a nightmare."

The conversation drifted naturally after that, with you both talking about small things. Things that, at the time, felt impossible to care about, but talking about them somehow made the world feel just a little more bearable. You didn’t become best friends that day. Hell, you didn’t even like her that much. But she wasn’t the worst person to share a tiny room with.

The next few days passed in much the same way. The two of you stuck together by necessity—safety in numbers and all that. Lois was always the first to crack a joke when things got tense, always the first to break the silence with something silly. Even if it was just the smallest thing, she had a way of making you forget how miserable everything else was. She brought out the social butterfly in you.

One morning, as you huddled together near a fire, she offered you some of her dried fruit. "This is better than nothing," she said, tossing a piece toward you with a little smirk.

"Better than a bag of chips," you replied dryly, smiling despite yourself.

"Hey, don’t knock it. It’s survival food. It’s what’s keeping us alive." She leaned back, her eyes scanning the horizon. "We got this."

And maybe you did. You didn’t know how you’d survive this world, but you knew you couldn’t do it alone.

Over time, you began to learn the little things about her. How she would always tap her foot when she was thinking, or how she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear when she was nervous. A habit you had started doing too. The way she fidgeted with her necklace when she was nervous. The way she would keep you on your toes with her sudden, random bursts of energy or the way she could make even the worst situations feel manageable with a laugh.

You’d never admit it out loud, but it became clear to you: You depended on Lois. In a world where it felt like you could lose everything in an instant, Lois was a constant. Someone who made the emptiness of everything else feel just a little less overwhelming. She became your reminder that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t alone in all of this.

And even if you didn’t say it, the bond was there, growing deeper each day. You shared a glance, a small nod of acknowledgment, and in those moments, you knew—no matter what happened, you could make it through as long as you had her by your side.

One day, you were surrounded by infected. There was no way to get out of it alive unless you had help, and it was as if your prayers had been answered. Before you know it, the infected are getting shot down, beheaded, stabbed, name it and they did it.

This group, led by a man named Dane, had come to your rescue. He was a tall, broad man, dark hair cut short. You two owed him your life. He led a group of around 15 people. He seemed like a good man, promising to keep the two of you safe. You and Lois both knew you were capable of keeping yourself alive but it was nice to have a community. It was nice. Until it wasn’t.

It started off well, Dane welcomed you two like you were going to be part of the family. They actually had a base, a protected fort if you will.

“Our help’s gonna cost ya though,” Dane said, leading you both past the rusted gates. The metal groaned as it shut behind you, sealing you in.

Lois didn’t hesitate. “Of course! We’d be more than happy to help you guys out. After all, you saved our lives.” After a moment of waiting for you to say anything, she nudged your side, expecting you to back her up. You nodded stiffly, but something about the way Dane was watching you made your stomach knot.

“Don’t worry, we don’t bite.” His grin –flashing a silver tooth--was meant to be friendly, to ease your discomfort.

It didn’t.

Lois had taken your hand in hers and squeezed it lightly. Her way of saying you’re okay.

It was somewhat normal the first week. You’d been given chores like cleaning the dining room, washing clothes and cooking. When you first started preparing plates, Dane’s right hand Silas told you to watch the portion control. Dane and a select few eat better meals than everyone else. The rest get scraps. When you point it out, they joke, “Rank has its privileges.”

Lois had thought it was a bit weird but she brushed it off quickly. She adjusted fast, you couldn’t blame her. You’ve endured so much fear, you know what she’s lost and what you two had been through. Of course she’d jump at the option to be protected. You still thought you two were more than capable of protecting yourself. And you certainly didn’t need Dane to be the one to protect you.

Every night you’d have trouble sleeping but you kept telling yourself, you’re just paranoid. You’ve been with just Lois for so long, these aren’t bad people.

Dane was superior, to the rest of the group. No one ate before he did, no one dared to sit in the chair he sat at, Dane had the final say in everything. Everything you owed, they owed. Someone liked your jacket? It was theirs.

“I get that it’s scary being with all these strangers, but I’d never want to put you in any harm. I truly believe this is a good place. Yeah their rules are a little weird, but we have weird rules too. Like our rule that we can never refuse a snack one of us offers? Even if we’re not hungry? Isn’t that silly too?” Lois had replied softly when you finally built up the courage to talk to her about it.

You dropped it and didn’t speak up about your discomfort anymore. It was obvious, Lois wanted to stay here. Who were you to drag her away from all this? And so far, they had actually been good to the two of you. Nothing crazy but you got shelter and food.

As you tried to adjust after being here for 4 months, you managed to actually make another friend here. His name was Jonnie. He was about 5’5, a bit younger than you and had the cutest snort when he laughed. His curly blonde hair always falling before his blue eyes. The thing you loved about him the most was how he still had that pre-apocalypse softness many people had lost. Including yourself. He brought that out in you. He had this innocence to him, like even in this world, he wouldn’t harm a butterfly.

You and him were on cleaning duty, every night after dinner you’d clean up the dining room together.

“You’ll never believe what I have.” He said, his hands behind his back.

You try to peek but he turns away each time. “What is it? Tell me Jonnie!” You chuckle.

He quickly brings his arms forward, revealing a little cassette player.

Your eyes widen and jaw drops.

“Your mouth’s open.” He snorts.

“No freaking way!!” You grab it from his hands, observing it closely. It was old, had a lot of wear and tear. You always said how much you missed music and now Jonnie had managed to get a cassette player? He was truly an angel.

“I’ve never actually seen these things before the world ended.” You chuckle. “Wait but, do you even have any cassettes? Else this thing is pretty useless..” You look up at Jonnie, who’s already holding in a big wide grin.

He reveals a cassette. “Of course I do. I don’t do half-ass surprises.” He takes the cassette player from your hand and pops it in. “Warning though, it only plays one song.”

“It better be amazing then.” You wait for the music to start playing.

The tune starts playing, you immediately recognizing it. You eye Jonnie as he eyes you, both pairs of eyes twinkling.

“We’re talking away. I don’t know what I’m to say..” The grainy sound of the cassette filling the empty room.

You burst out into laughter as you grab Jonnie’s arms and start dancing. More like just jumping around, but it’s still considered dancing in your book. “Take on meeeee” “Take on me!”

You’re carelessly spinning around, arms wide, cheekbones aching. Jonnie’s clapping along, completely off-beat but grinning so widely it doesn’t even matter.

Your dance party is cut short when you hear the door opening though. Jonnie quickly turns off the music. It was Silas.

“Evening.” He says, his finger tracing a table as he checks it for dust. By some miracle he hadn’t heard the music.

You and Jonnie are stood next to each other, hands behind your back, as if you’re some soldier.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just here for a late night craving.” He brushed past the two of you, grabbed some food and disappeared again.

You two both let out a breathe of relief.

“Thank the gods, I don’t know what would’ve happened if he caught us like that.” Jonnie says softly, obviously a bit shaken. “He creeps me out.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

The following clean ups were the one thing you looked forward to every day. You’d start the evening off with a dance party and would have the song on repeat the entire night.

Jonnie and you spent a lot of time together. You’d seek each other out at dinner and of course clean together. You didn’t expect to find one best friend during an apocalypse, let alone two.

One evening, you and Lois are sat with Dane and his select few around the campfire.

“I think it’s time we celebrate our newcomers. You two have been here for 6 months. Really proven that you’re of use.” Dane said, a beer in his hand. You noticed that when he grinned, you could see a broken yellowed tooth. Yuck.

Lois nodded happily.

“You’re a tough nut to crack though.” Dane’s eyes met yours. You felt shivers down your spine.

“Do you like it here?” He took another sip.

You were quiet for a moment before speaking. “I do.” You lied.

“Are you dedicated to us? To me?” His gaze darkened and his voice was deeper.

You were taken aback a bit, why is he asking this crap? You furrowed your brows a bit. Lois could read you like a book, she could tell you thought Dane was a total idiot.

“She is. We are.” Lois chimed in, smiling as she interlocked her arm with yours.

He huffed out a dry chuckle, his eyes showing no sign of amusement. “Show me.”

“What?” She asked, as if she didn’t hear right the first time.

“I want her to show me.” Dane said, looking firmly at you and not Lois.

You felt your stomach drop, what the fuck does he mean?

Before you could even think about what it meant, Silas arrived, dragging a guy with him. He threw the guy on the ground in front of you. His hands and ankles tied, head facing the floor but you could recognize those curls anywhere.

Jonnie.

Your eyes widen as you feel your stomach drop. For a moment, the world was in slow motion. Dane’s laugh sounded slowed down as Silas kicks Jonnie, flipping him over as Jonnie squeals in anguish.

Lois is frozen, as are you.

Your eyes scan Jonnie’s battered body. He’s been beaten to hell. His clothes are soaked in blood, his face nearly unrecognizable. His left eye is swollen shut, his entire right side bruised. Blood stains his blonde eyebrows and drips from a split lip.

You tried to get any words out, to stand up for Jonnie. But you freeze when Jonnie’s eyes met yours and a tear rolled over his cheek. That moment of eye contact told you everything, he was terrified.

Dane suddenly pushes a gun in your hand. You look up at Dane, who sits back down. He’s.. He’s actually grinning.

“Kill him.” Dane nudges his head towards Jonnie. “W-What?” You stammered, a tear rolling over your cheek that you quickly wiped away.

A moment of silence is broken when Dane throws a cassette player in front of you. Jonnie and yours cassette player.

“He doesn’t respect our rules. We share here. Yet, this boy thinks it’s acceptable to keep things to himself. You know our rules right?”

You shakily nod. “Say it.” Dane folds his arms as he manspreads.

“E-everything you own, we own. We- we share everything.” You quietly said, breathing heavily.

“Speak. Up.” He snapped back, his voice raising. It shook you.

“Everything you own, we-“ You choke up. “-own.” You stammered through the tears you could no longer hold back.

“Good. You know the rules. Calm down, let’s make this atmosphere a little less hostile.” Dane snorts as he leans forward to grab the cassette player. He presses play.

The sound of the song startles you. The song that you and Jonnie used to love and dance to every night, was now being played at Jonnie’s possible last moment.

“Takeee onnn meeee.” Silas murmurs with a wide smile.

Lois furrowed her brows as she was no longer holding onto you. You glanced at her, almost afraid to meet her eyes. She had tears welling up but she attempted to blink them away.

“Good. He didn’t respect that rule. Frankly, I don’t know if he’s ever really been of use here. Don’t even know the boy’s name.” Dane chuckles, his eyes showing nothing but evil. “Now, kill him. I won’t tell you again.”

You tremble as you look down at Jonnie, he’s crying too. You had never felt so weak before, afraid your knees might buckle any moment. You stood up before Jonnie, weakly lifting the gun to him but you immediately lower it. You can’t do this. Jonnie’s your friend. Jonnie’s innocent, he got that cassette player for you. You should be paying for this. And as his eyes meet yours yet again, you feel like you might throw up. He’s pleading. Jonnie’s pleading for his life with that look in his eyes.

“I- please Dane-“ You beg, you plead but Dane shows no sign of you getting out of this.

Suddenly the gun gets taken out of your hand, Lois takes it. You look at her, her eyes don’t show sadness and fear like yours are. Her eyes show determination. Like she’s turned off her personality. She raises the gun to Jonnie’s head.

“Lois!” You yelp, your voice cracking.

But she ignores you and pulls the trigger, blood splattering on your face as your tears try and clear your vision. The only thing visible is the light from the fire reflecting off of Lois’s gold locket hanging around her neck.

After that, there’s a moment of silence. Silence filled with that stupid song still playing.

You blink, snapping out of that horrible memory, it’s like you could feel the blood splattering on you again. Your stomach turns. Now you’re sat on your couch, zoned out staring at Joel’s gloves you’d forgotten to return after you stormed off. Even the painted wall felt stupid and the fact that Joel was the one who helped you complete it. Get your act together, you thought. You’re over Dane. Dane isn’t Joel. Joel isn’t Dane. It’s completely different.

And the thing is, you knew it was. You knew it was different. You knew Joel had meant you no harm, not the way Dane had always meant harm. Not the way Dane had harmed Lois- So you convince yourself to at least get dinner at the dining hall today. The dry bread and cans of vegetables weren’t cutting it anymore.

You step outside of your apartment, the cold air breezing through your hair. The feel instantly bringing you shivers. It’s a bit of a walk from your apartment to the dining hall and you happened to run into Selene. Selene was your neighbor, one that had chosen to befriend you in the first two months that you arrived. You’d been cooped up in your place for the first two months but as soon as you were out and about, she came running. She was a tall woman, taller than you were. Her curly auburn hair always put into a bun with pieces sticking out. After those two months you guys talked often. You knew she had a boyfriend, Aaron. He was the opposite of her. She was very loud, very witty and social, while Aaron was quiet, nerdy and very to himself. It was honestly a cute match.

“Hey! Finally I caught you.” Selene said, pacing up her steps to match yours. “Are you headed to the dining hall?” She twirled her hair pieces.

“I am yeah. Haven’t been in a while.”

“Yeah, thought I hadn’t seen you out in a couple days! Everything okay? I get that the change can be tough, I had just the same thing. When my boyfriend and I just arrived here, we didn’t leave our place for two weeks..” She rubbed the back of her neck as she felt a pink tint creeping up, her realizing you didn’t leave your place for two months. “I guess it’s different for everyone.” She chuckled a bit awkwardly.

“I’m doing good, thanks for asking. I just felt like staying in. How are you and Aaron doing?” You smiled reassuringly.

“Oh we’re genuinely fantastic. Okay, don’t tell anyone-“ She leaned in closer to you. “I think we might be expecting..” She smiled widely.

You wanted to be happy for her but it was hard to hide the frown on your face. Who would get pregnant in a world like this? You want to bring more people into this scary world?

She noticed the look on your face and her smile immediately dropped. “I get it.. A baby, in a world like this. It’s crazy. We certainly didn’t plan on it, but I just can’t hide the excitement that I actually get to bring life in a world that takes so much of it.”

to bring life in a world that takes so much of it.

“That’s beautifully said, Selene. I am happy for the two of you, I hope your baby gets your curls.” You smiled, the conflicted feelings fading at the idea of Selene being a mother. You didn’t know her super well or anything, but you could tell she’d be a great mom.

“I sure hope so! Not Aaron’s bald patches.” She snorts and nudges your arm playfully.

You laugh, a genuine laugh.

When you two finally arrive at the dining hall, you were going to sit alone but she urged you to join Aaron and her. With a tray in your hands containing a bowl of stew, a piece of bread and a glass of tea, you sit down, your eyes scanning the room.

Your stomach drops for a second when you see Joel sit at one of the tables, further down. He’s sitting with a girl, looks to be about 14? Joel is a dad? And he’s laughing? Well, it’s a minimal laugh, a tiny chuckle. But you’d never seen it before.

“Isn’t that Tommy’s brother?” You suddenly hear Selene cutting through your thoughts as she leans closer to you. Your eyes snap back to Selene.

“What’s his name?”

“Joel.” You say before stuffing your mouth with bread, not wanting to talk about him any further. Selene doesn’t seem to get that hint though.

“Joel. He’s cute.” Aaron shoots her a look, raising his brows as she said that. “Oh come on, I’m having your baby,” She mouths the word baby. “I’m not leaving you.” She whispers, laughing. He gets a bit red as his eyes shoot to you, not sure whether you knew.

“Yeah I told her.. As soon as I saw her. I actually couldn’t hold myself back. She practically guessed it.” Selene quickly says even though you didn’t even have the faintest suspicion of her being pregnant. You grin.

“So you and Joel? I’ve seen him around, always brooding.” Selene continues, smirking.

You exhale sharply, already over this conversation. “Absolutely not.”

Selene shoots a look back at Aaron before returning to you. “Why not?”

“’Cause he’s world’s biggest asshole, that’s why.”

“Damn, what did he do to you?” Aaron says, intrigued.

“Yeah, spill. There’s not nearly enough gossip in this place.” Selene picks at her curls again.

You shoot them both a look. “I’m all for a little gossip but honestly, this man is just an asshole. I do repair jobs with him and let me tell ya, they are not fun.”

“You have to elaborate!! Come on, we’re super duper curious.” Selene nudges you.

You chuckle a bit, Selene reminded you of Lois in some way, they were completely different yet so the same. The way Selene rambled was the way Lois would ramble too.

“It’s just that, he completely dismisses me. Thinks I’m some weak link that has no understanding of the world outside of these walls.” You start ranting.

“He acts like I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Like I’m some clueless idiot who’s never set foot outside of a QZ or here. He doesn’t listen, doesn’t take me seriously. It’s like he’s already decided exactly who I am, and nothing I do or say changes that. I can tell him one thing, he does not have me figured out. And just—” You realize you’re rambling. “Sorry.” “Oh please, don’t apologize. He sounds like a real jerk.” Selene says, Aaron nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, and I may have been a real jerk to him too. So we’re not on the best of terms.”

Your thoughts go back to the man he killed and the look in his eyes afterwards. Your eyes glance back to Joel across the room. Your stomach drops when you see he was already looking at you. You quickly turn back to the table.

“Oi, you know who I say leaving Julian’s apartment this morning?” Selene grins widely, teeth baring. She’s tapping her hand on the table to get your attention.

“Who?” You can’t hide the smile that’s building on your face as your brows knit together in curiosity.

“Nevermind.. You’ll actually just never believe me.” She fakes looking frustrated as she sighs dramatically before the grin reappears on her face.

“Tell me!” You poke her.

“Okay okay, if you want to know that badly.” She comically rolls her eyes before slapping both hands on the table and leaning forward. “Sasha.” Selene covers her mouth with her hand as she giggles.

Sasha was one of the people who frequently worked at the Workshop, she was always annoyed and honestly, a real bitch. You remember the first time you made your way to the Workshop and asked for a notebook. She had looked you up and down and just scoffed as she walked off. You waited for 5 minutes before realizing she wasn’t going to bring you one. She weirded you out to say the least.

Julian on the other hand, was such a nice guy. He was around 42, fully grey hair and always laughed so loudly it would make anyone else laugh too. So the two of them together, is definitely surprising.

“You’re kidding???” You reply.

“No! I’m not! Aaron, you saw it too right??” She looks at Aaron, who’s just about to take a spoonful of stew. He nods. “Yeah only cause you dragged me out of bed to see that.” He says before eating.

“I actually couldn’t believe my freaking eyes!! How can miss grump fit with mr sunshine?!”

“You have such a way with words, Selene. But I agree. It’s like a perfect book trope.” You grin.

After dinner, you tell Selene and Aaron you’re taking a little stroll. Before you got up you had glanced over to where Joel was sitting but he and the girl had already left. You bring your tray back to the counter and make your way outside.

The stroll is nice. The sound of people chatting, kids playing, the lights on inside the house making you only see shadows of people through the curtains, the smell of campfires burning. You couldn’t believe you were at such a peaceful place. That was, until you were hit with a snowball. Right in the face.

“Jesus-“ Your hands wipe the snow out of your face. “Oh shit! I thought you were someone else!” A girls voice yells as you hear her coming closer.

You blink out the rest of the snow as your vision clears. It’s the girl Joel was sitting with. You smile at her, feeling a tad awkward after being attacked with snow.

“It’s okay.” You’re about to start walking again before she speaks up.

“You gotta admit, that was a pretty good shot.” She laughs. You smile back at her. “Yeah great shot, thanks.” You chuckle.

“I feel like I’ve seen you around.” Her eyes scan you.

“That’s possible.” “You’ve done repairs with Joel, yeah?” She asked but it was more of a statement.

“Yeah—I do actually. You’ve seen me with him or Joel tell you about me?” You asked, for some reason curious if the asshole had talked about you.

“Oh I’ve seen you two coming back, I sometimes wait at the gates around the time your job ends.”

Of course he hadn’t spoken about you, not that it mattered. “Right. Your Joel’s kid?”

She laughs and scoffs. “"Hell no. Do I look like I have his grumpy-ass genes?”

“No, you do not.” You chuckle.

“He’s something like that, not my dad though.”

“Ah.” You nod.

“I’m Ellie.” She looks you over.

You introduce yourself to her. “It’s nice to meet you-“ “Ellie? Christ, I was lookin’ for you.” A voice cuts in from behind you. Joel’s. Ellie’s eyes widen a bit.

“Shit, now my sneak attack didn’t fucking work!” She says.

Joel comes closer, before realizing who Ellie is talking to. You look at him as he stands next you. His brows pulled together a bit as he looks back at Ellie, not saying a word to you.

“I hit her in the face with a fucking snowball. My aim is crazy good, I thought you were coming round the corner but it was her-“ Ellie says, proud of her aim and also a bit apologetic about hitting you in the face. “Language.” Joel mutters.

“Right, I should get going. It was nice talking to you Ellie.” You smile shortly and start making way. That’s put to a halt when Joel suddenly grabs your arm. It’s a light grab. You shiver. Your head shoots back to him and he lets go.

“Y’still got my gloves.” He says, his voice gruff with a hint of irritation, his eyes not even meeting yours until he’s done talking.

“Oh right. I’ll get them to you, if you think I’m capable enough for that.” You say flatly before walking off. Joel sighs sharply.

“Geez, what was that about?” Ellie snorts.

The next day you had made it your task to get the gloves back to Joel. Having to see him every Thursday was enough, so you really hadn’t looked forward to this.

It was early in the morning, you hadn’t really slept well. Rolling around in bed all night, thinking about the past never worked for a good night sleep. So as soon as it was a bit more of an appropriate time to drop by someone’s house, you made your way to Joel Miller’s place.

The town was quiet, a couple birds chirping in the distant and that fresh morning breeze blew through your hair. Mornings like these made the world feel at peace. You never thought you’d become a morning person as much as you are a night person, but nights grew more unsettling while the comfort of daylight made mornings provide a sense of safety.

Joel’s porch creaked under your boots as you debated just leaving the gloves by the door. That would be easier. Less talking. Less looking at his permanently scowling face. You were just about to set them down when the door suddenly swung open.

You barely had time to step back before Joel barreled into you, shutting the door behind him with his back to the world. He mutters a curse under his breath as he turns, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of you.

“Jesus Christ-“ He exhales sharply.

Your brows knitted together. “You don’t think to check if anyone might be on your porch?”

“You don’t think maybe I don’t expect anyone at the crack of dawn?” He shoots back as he looks at you, his usual frown on his face.

You’re quiet for a moment, he’s right. You are really early. After a moment you roll your eyes and press the gloves forward. “Returning your gloves.”

Joel glances at them, then back at you, like he’s debating whether this exchange is even worth his time. Finally, he reaches out and takes them. His fingers graze yours for just a second—just enough for your stomach to twist in frustration.

The way he looks at you, like you’re beneath him.

Joel just raises the gloves a bit before walking off the porch. “Yeah, thanks.” He mutters before walking off. Leaving you standing on his porch.

“You’re welcome, asshole.” You quietly mutter.

When it’s time for lunch, you decide to head into the dining hall with Selene. Aaron was on patrol so it was just a simple girls moment for the two of you.

“I can’t believe Joel just walked off like that! Maybe he’s just that into you that he gets all nervous and stuff.” Selene giggles.

“Right, that’s totally it. It’s not the fact I called him out on being a monster cause his loved one died.” You say, silencing Selene completely as she turns red. “Yeah.. Cold.. Maybe he’s not into you.” She quietly replies before taking a bite of her sandwich.

It didn’t take long for you to become close friends with Selene. She was a social butterfly and you like to think you also were one. So you quickly started confiding in each other, gossiping and chatting about anything and everything. The only thing you just kept to yourself was your past. She didn’t talk much about hers either, so you took it as a topic that was off limits for the both of you. You preferred it that way.

“I do regret saying it. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely despise how he behaved at the outpost. But still, I stooped down to his level. I acted cold and that’s just so unlike me.” You picked at the crust of your bread.

It was true, you regretted saying what you said. It took you a moment to understand how you could say such cruel things. You’ve always been really empathic but Joel had triggered memories of Dane. It made you want to be cold, it made you want to hurt him. To hurt Dane. To turn off the overflow of emotions. You did hate Joel though, no matter how much PTSD you had, the way he had handled the situation was awful.

“What’s done is done. Honestly, don’t even give it too much attention. He’s obviously an ass. Maybe it’s good he heard it from someone. He looks like the type of guy that doesn’t get a lot of back talk.” Selene says before taking a bite. “I know I’d be too scared to give him back talk.”

“You’re right. I’m going to go do the repair job Thursday, completely nail it, no pun intended and I’ll show him he can’t bother me!” You whip your hair as you laugh.

“Mhm, atta girl!” Selene chuckles.

As Thursday comes around, you’re ready and settled on your horse before he even arrived. You wanted to make sure there would be no possible reason for the two of you to speak unless it was absolutely necessary.

As the snow crunches below the hooves of your horses, sounds of birds chirping and the wind whistling was enough to fill the silence that you’d usually attempt to fill with your small talk. You had glanced over at Joel a couple of times, he’d be unreadable staring straight ahead.

It wasn’t often anymore that someone filled you with so much anger, it’s like every little thing he does ticks you off. The way he taps his heel against his horse every so often, the way he held the reins ever so slightly more to the left cause he knew the horse had a tendency to walk more to the right, and especially the way he always furrowed his brows. Always furrowing those damn brows.

“Quit starin’ at me.” He speaks up.

You blink, not realizing you had zoned out looking at him. “I wouldn’t dare.” You scoff as you roll your eyes.

You look ahead of you. The quiet really making you think. Yeah sure you’ve thought about apologizing to him. You’ve thought about it often, about how much you didn’t want to do it. He should apologize to you. The way he pulled the trigger so easily- the thought of it brings you shivers. That day just keeps replaying in your head, the gut dropping feeling you felt.

Lately everything has been reminding you of Dane and Lois and you blamed Joel for it. Hated him for it. Despised him the way he despised you. It worked out in your favor, making that cold remark to him that day. He obviously felt no need to see or speak to you more than obligated and neither did you.

As the two of you arrive at the outpost, you’re very displeased to see that the wall had caved in on the side. It takes everything in you to not grunt out loud. It’s worse than you thought—wood splintered, nails bent out of shape, snow from last night’s storm piled up against the debris.

“How did that even happen?” You exhale sharply. This meant you’d be on the job even longer.

“Christ if I know.” Joel murmers as he walks inside, he looks just as annoyed as you are.

“We need more wood,” you finally say, hating that you have to acknowledge him at all. “And nails. Probably some new support beams too.” You sounded like you actually knew what you were talking about. You felt a little proud cause of that.

That moment was shot down quickly though.

Joel lets out a humorless chuckle. “Real sharp observation.”

You glare at him. “You got a problem?”

“Nope.” He grabs an axe from the supply crate, inspecting the dull blade. “Just wonderin’ how long you’re gonna waste time statin’ the obvious before actually doin’ somethin’.”

Your blood boils. “Oh, I’m sorry, would you like me to just shut up and blindly follow your lead? ‘Cause we both know how well that worked last time.”

“Worked out just fine.” Joel replies before walking off toward the trees.

You stand there for a moment, fuming. The way he always had to have the last reply, or the better reply. If it was possible, there would be actual fire and steam coming out of you right now.

After an hour of working and not communicating, the only sound between you is the crack of splitting wood, the dull clang of nails being hammered in, and the occasional huff. The air is freezing, your breath visible as you work. Every muscle in your arms aches from chopping, lifting, and hammering.

And yet, somehow, the worst part is still him.

Your mind just keeps going back to last week. To that comment you made about his loved one. You hated him, you did. But it was just in your nature to apologize. It literally wasn’t you.

You decide to speak up, you part your lips to say something but it takes you a few more attempts to actually say something. “Hey um, about what I said last week-“

“Don’t.” Joel cuts you off, his voice sounding flat.

Your brows knit together a bit. “I just wanted to apolo-“

“Don’t.” He states firmly, leaving no room for arguing. You just blink a couple times, very confused why he’s not taking your apology. Did it hurt him that deeply? Surely other people must’ve said similar things right? This just makes you feel worse.

“Joel I am sorry about what I said. Don’t get me wrong, I hate what you did. But I’m still sorry.” You decided to push your apology further, not letting him shut you down like that.

It’s quiet for a moment, like Joel is unsure of how to respond. But when he turns to you, it’s obvious he’s bothered.

“I don’t care about your apology.” He turned to you. “Your words mean nothin’ to me.” He said, it genuinely seeming as if he didn’t care, but you knew better. His response to it last week told you enough. “Right, sure seemed that way.” You sigh, annoyed he can’t just take the apology.

His eyes shoot to yours as you said that, he looks angry again.

“You just always have to have a big mouth on you, don’t you?” His voice raising slightly.

“Maybe you just can’t stand someone finally telling you how it is.” You step forward, if he wants to argue, that’s what he’ll get.

He chuckles dryly, shaking his head as he looks you up and down. “Yeah, that must be it.” His back towards you again, not engaging in this argument.

“Dickhead.” You mumble as you continue. His eyes glance towards you for a second, to make sure if you actually said it. He decides not to respond and just slightly shake his head.

Why can’t he just take the apology? He makes your blood boil. You wish you never took this stupid repair job, you literally volunteered to have fights with Joel Miller. The guy everyone moves out of the way for, the guy people rarely look in the eye. You weren't afraid, if you had something to say, he'll hear it.

#joel miller #joel tlou #pedropascal #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #enemies to lovers #slow burn #grumpy!joel

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gemjewlerybox · 3 days ago

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one of my biggest fav/inspo writers, when using/giving interests "names" its usually like based off of what the story/insert is. Mama for a single mother au and her recent is Raspberry Girl (I need to go back and reread all of her work god I took like a long break from that fandom but I so loved her work)

And thats what I want to do for my two readers, for like to know whose who. And I don't want to use their magical girl names (Pearl and Crystal) because I want to separate the two beings. So you may see me change and play around with names in the blog, but I will tots color code the names so yall know whose who. (I also need to change my theme since crystal is now blue)

Anyways after that announcement more tidbits!

What Sweetheart thinks of Darling: She's really nice! She talks to me about shows and stuff- well it's more of me talking. I tend to talk alot- but she listens! Like actually listens! She asks me questions and put in her own opinions! Though sometimes mean ones ahaha...it's nice...really. I don't really mind if she's doing it for the money, it's just nice to talk to others.

What Darling thinks of Sweetheart: Oh, the kid I tutor? I mean, she's fine. A chatterbox really....I don't really mind though. I like the noise, something to pay attention to rather than my own thoughts. I'm surprised a kid like that can survive in this shit of a city.

What Sweetheart thinks of Crystal: That- That was another magical girl?? I did NOT know, I mean duh there's probably thousands put there. But this is the first time I've ever seen one. Did you see her too?? How she moved, how she took down that robber and Robin when those two started bickering?? Effortless, it was beautiful, I want to be like her. Can I be like her...I can right?? I mean were both magical girls...but I don't know how to do all those tricks and magic?? was it??...I haven't been able to preform magic like that...

What Darling thinks of Pearl: Why am the goddamn app chime me here if there's already a magical girl here?? What am I doing here?? What you except me to train her??I barley know how to tutor kids HOW?? am I supposed to train- no, see? Look at her go, she had the situation perfectly handled between that wannabe supervillain and little child in a cape, there was no reason for me to intervene. I don't understand...why did you bring me back when you have someone new and want to do this.....

What Darling and Sweetheart thought when they found out the truth:

Both tied down in chairs in the manor's dining room, where their secret identify was let out.

Sweetheart: ........

Darling: ....I'm trying so hard not to call you out of your name

Sweetheart: HUH???

Darling: I should have just never used a phone again, I should have just became a hermit, I should have just IGNORED that goddamn chime.

Sweetheart: BUT but we would have never known eachother and became sisters!

Darling: Stop using my words against me.

Sweetheart: You think I wanted this too?? I was literally trying to leave to a far FAR college- oooooh I think that the nail in the coffin was for gestures around this.

#gemblogs #magical girl reader #yandere batfam #little hint of how Sweetheart and Darling meets as heros...along with the little terror-#they are also totally ignoring the batfam whose watching this exchange #opal cant do anything because as civilians they only can appear to others as a stuffed animal

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zukoshonour404 · 2 months ago

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The day I stop drawing Donna with her hair down is the day I’ve been murdered

#these took me far too long for what they are but we move #donna beneviento #my art #resident lover #I love necks a lil too much to be normal-#ignore her mouth #I need to learn how to draw expressions

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depresseddepot · 3 months ago

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listen I hate living with my parents for many different reasons BUT I do have a soggy duck drying in my laundry room. so.

#very quick background: we rescued him from someone who took very bad care of him and he's never been able to walk bc of it #something was very wrong with his hips bc he could walk if he had his legs under him but he would fall a lot and theyd get stuck behind him #anyway its sad bc we do have to put him down (he cant move anymore to the point of being unable to bathe or eat by himself)#but like. what a bizarre set of circumstances that have led to me having a really old soggy duck being laid out on my floor to dry #imo my mom should have put him down a long time ago (he hasnt been able to swim for at least a year)#and she should have taken him to a poultry vet the moment she got him but she didn't bc they're ''too far away''#(theyre 30 minutes away.)#but at least she's doing it now #godspeed little soggy man. you hated us soooo much especially when we lovingly bathed you and carried you to your ladies 37 times a day #i almost broke my leg twice slipping on ice trying to carry you into the coop and you yelled so loudly right in my ear the whole time #o7 #also no pics bc he's in a scary alien world and he hates us so much so i don't want to freak him out by trying to take a picture

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aesethewitch · 11 months ago

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When I was a kid, we moved into a house that had a huge lilac tree out front. It was mostly rotten, and it needed to be taken down before it fell. It took a while, but eventually, it was gone.

Mostly. A couple years later, little lilac babies popped out of the ground in its place. My mom was determined to get rid of them, because she'd planted a beautiful flower garden there, and the lilac trees would overshadow and kill the whole garden. I insisted on saving at least a few saplings. She said fine, but I had to dig them out and put them in pots myself.

So, I did. I spent days digging little lilac bushes out of the ground and putting them into pots. Some couldn't be saved, but some could. When all was said and done, I had five brand-new lilac saplings. Seven or eight years old, and it was my absolute pride and joy.

Three died due to sun scorching, severe drought that no amount of watering could save, and perhaps just being moved from their place in the ground. But two survived, and I was awfully proud of them! I'd go out and talk to them every single day. I watered them by hand and made sure they were fertilized properly. I learned all about their favored environments, and I was determined to make sure they lived.

One of my mom's friends saw what I was doing with the lilacs. She asked if she could have one to put in her backyard, and I agreed on the condition that she take very, very good care of it.

It's now fucking enormous. I'm talking ten feet tall and bursting with beautiful purple flowers every spring. My mom still gets updates each year as they start to bloom, which she forwards to me. And all I can think is, "That's my friend! Thriving some twenty years on, there it is."

The other tree nearly died, too. It lived in a pot for far, far too long. I wanted to plant it somewhere in my parents' yard, but my mom was reluctant. Eventually, we agreed to put it in the far back garden. It grew okay for many years, despite the shade, but in all these years, it's never bloomed.

Last year, the massive tree casting massive shadows over the lilac and the garden cracked in half and fell. It tumbled into the garden, crushing part of the nearby shed and destroying a few plants beneath it.

It missed my lilac by inches.

The clean-up is long done. The rest of the tree has been cut down, and my lilac has full sunlight for the first time in fifteen years. It won't bloom this year, I know. But it's got new shoots up. It's taller than ever. I spent half an hour a few weeks ago praising it for surviving all this time, dreaming about its future and telling it how I believe it'll become the tall beauty it's always been meant to be.

I think next year, I'll see flowers.

#aese speaks #a little personal story for you all #the origin of my life-long relationship with lilacs #i've been a garden witch since i was very small! (:#green witch #garden witch #garden magic #the lilac post #hello to everyone reading the og tags on this:#it's a metaphor it's a true story it's real it's fiction it's a poem it's me rambling it's whatever you think it is #30k

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greengoblinswifey · 3 months ago

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girl we need more fics about inho pls your writing is soooo good 😮‍💨

You Belong With Me— The Front Man/Hwang In Ho x Fem!Reader

summary— The Front Man grows protective of you and removes you from the game, keeping you safe in his private quarters. A deep emotional connection forms between you and your bond deepens in more ways than one.

warnings— age gap(reader is 20, he’s in his 40s), fingering, oral(m!receiving), praise kink, hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— thank you, hope you like this <3

In the dead of night, you woke to the rough grip of two guards hauling you from your bunk. You tried to scream, but a hand clamped over your mouth, silencing you. They pulled you down the cold hallways, the walls echoing with the sounds of their pants and your cries. You had no idea what was happening until they stopped before a door you hadn’t seen before. The guards pushed it open, and standing on the other side was Hwang In-ho, the Front Man, the one they had told you they were taking you to. He looked down at you in his mask, unreadable expression, his voice cold and commanding as he spoke.

“You voted out,” he said, his voice steady, “but the majority has decided to stay. You won’t be going back. You’re staying with me now.”

Confusion flooded your senses. You’d voted out to escape the nightmare, but now you were here, in front of him. The air shifted as he noticed your fear, before he spoke again, “You’re safe now. No one will hurt you.”

The guards released their hold on you, but you didn’t move. Fear kept you rooted to the spot. “I don’t understand,” you whispered, the words trembling on your lips. “Why me?”

In-ho’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, then his tone shifted, becoming softer but more firm. “Because I won’t let anything happen to you.” He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. “You’re too precious to be out there with them.”

You stayed quiet, still unsure of what was happening, but something about his words made your heart race—not from fear, but from the strange pull he had on you. He was being protective, almost possessive, and it made no sense. But you were too tired to fight it, too drained from everything you had already been through.

For the following days, you remained with him. In-ho wouldn’t let you return to the game. You slept in his room, far removed from the others, under his watchful eye. Every time you tried to ask why, he would simply tell you, “You’re safe here. No one will harm you.”

He never let you out of his sight for too long. During the days, he would be nearby, always watching, ensuring you were comfortable. His protectiveness only deepened as you became more and more accustomed to your new life under his care. You didn’t argue, after all, there was something oddly comforting about his presence, even if it unsettled you at the same time.

One evening, as you rested on the bed, In-ho approached you. His mask was off, and his sharp features were illuminated by the dim light. He crouched beside you, his dark eyes scanning your face making your breath hitch.

“You’ did well,” he said, his voice low and almost soothing. His fingers reached up, gently brushing a few curls from your face, tucking them behind your ear. The simple gesture was so intimate. He was so close now, his warmth radiating off him as he spoke again, his voice barely a whisper. “I’ve kept you here because you belong with me, away from them.”

His fingers lingered on your hair, his touch soft but firm. You didn’t pull away. Somehow, his proximity, the way he seemed so protective of you, had a strange pull. “No one will ever touch you again,” he added, possessively. His eyes never left yours, and there was a coldness in his tone that let you know he meant every word.

A part of you wanted to resist, to ask more questions, to demand to be let go. But the way he spoke to you, the way he cared for you, made it hard to find the strength to push him away. He hadn’t hurt you, not like the others. Instead, he had kept you safe.

“I don’t want you to go back,” he said softly, brushing his thumb across your cheek, “You’re my sweet little angel. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You looked up at him, not sure how to respond. But with him, the world felt a little less dangerous. The game, the chaos, seemed far away, as if they didn’t matter here, in his presence.

“You’re not going back,” he repeated, his voice firm, yet his gaze softened. “Not while I’m here. You belong with me.”

And in that moment, you understood that there was no escaping this, no going back. You were his now, and he wasn’t going to let you go. You stayed by his side, no longer a part of the game, but under his protection, whether you wanted it or not.

He leaned down, his presence overwhelming as his lips brushed against yours. It was soft at first, a gentle, almost hesitant kiss, like he was testing your response. You felt his body against you, his hands slowly moving to your back, pulling you closer. The touch felt unfamiliar yet comforting, and after everything that had happened, you melted into it, craving the sensation of being cared for, of being wanted.

His lips trailed down to your neck, and you gasped, the contact sending a shiver down your spine. He paused for a moment, his breath hot against your skin, before finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. A small hum of satisfaction left his lips as he nipped softly at your skin. His hand, still firmly on your back, slid lower, his fingers brushing against your waist before moving gently, teasingly lower and into your panties.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured. “So wet already, just for me.”

You felt his fingers rub gentle circles on your swollen clit, his touch light but electric, making your breath hitch. He paused, as if waiting for your response, his eyes searching yours for permission. “Just let me make you feel good,” he whispered, his voice tender yet firm. “It’s just us here. You can trust me.”

You felt a thick finger slip inside your pussy, the action making you press your lips together so you wouldn’t make a sound. He chuckled then moved back to your neck, licking and nipping as his fingers explored your pussy.

“Your pussy gets wet for strangers, doesn’t it?” he teased.

You whined and hid your face in his neck but he used his free hand to tilt your head to look up at him.

“I’m only teasing angel, and you’re my kind of woman either way,” he murmured.

His finger began thrusting and curling, finding the spongy spot inside you that had you writhing underneath him. He used a thumb to rub circles on your clit, the pleasure unlike any other you had felt. You grabbed his hand, as he increased the pace, feeling something build inside you. Were you really about to cum for him? He slipped another finger inside, curling and thrusting as the sound of your wet pussy filled your ears.

“Cum for me sweetheart, be my good girl,” he said.

You weren’t sure what you wanted anymore, but there was something in his gaze, something comforting in the way he pleasured you, that made it easy to let go and cum for him. The world outside seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you in that moment, where you could be pleasure and safe all at once.

“F-feels so good,” you finally whispered, your orgasm taking ahold of you.

“I know baby, I know,” he retorted, “I can make you feel even better.”

In that moment you didn’t know what he meant. What you did know was that you wanted to make him feel good too. Return the favor in the only way you could.

You could feel his gaze burning into you as you gently unbuttoned the top he had given you to put on that day, your heart racing. You paused for a moment, looking up at him, feeling a slight hesitation. His voice was calm. “Are you sure?” he asked, his eyes soft but intense.

You nodded, keeping your eyes locked with his, your breath catching in your throat. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in your chest.

Slowly, you let your movements flow as you continued to undress, your fingers trembling slightly, but you felt a rush of anticipation. “You look beautiful,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl as he took in every detail of your naked body.

You moved closer to him, your eyes never leaving his as you slowly began to unbutton his shirt. The action felt intimate, yet there was something thrilling about it. His breath hitched slightly as your hands moved lower, and you felt the heat of his body against yours as you slowly began to undress him.

“You're incredible,” he said softly, his voice filled with admiration. As you knelt before him, your gaze remained locked with his, and you felt a surge of confidence. His hand gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek. “You're so beautiful,” he repeated, his voice filled with awe.

He took off his boxers, his hard cock springing free in front of your face. He was so big and thick, the biggest you’d ever seen. With shaky hands you took ahold of him, slowly stroking as his eyes fluttered shut. You spat on the tip, using your thumb to spread your saliva along with the pre cum that had oozed out.

“That’s it, you’re a fucking natural,” he praised.

With your eyes on his, you slowly wrapped your plump lips around him, taking him into your mouth. You slid your tongue along his girth, suctioning your lips to give him the utmost pleasure. He hit the back of your throat and you let him settle there for a second before sliding your lips back up to the tip.

“Fuck, that’s it, just like that,” he moaned.

You licked the tip, savoring the taste of the salty pre cum before slowly taking him half way. “All the way down,” he growled. You went lower, taking his cock into the back of your throat as his fingers tangled in your curls. You began bobbing your head, breathing through your nose as your eyes teared up. He stared down at you, his lips apart as his breathing grew heavier. You were a sight for sore eyes, curls framing your face, tears brimming your eyes, pre cum and spit dripping down your chin and your mouth full.

“You look so beautiful like this, such a good cocksucker,” he murmured.

At his praises you began bobbing your head faster, sliding your tongue all over his shaft. Each time you went down, the tip slammed against your tonsil and he let out breathy moans that made your pussy throb.

“Fuck angel, I’m gonna cum in that pretty mouth,” he groaned.

Your hands went to his heavy balls, massaging them then moving down to take each into your mouth before moving back up to his cock and sliding your lips across the shaft.

“Here it comes, take all my cum in your mouth like a good girl sweetheart,” he said.

You suckled on the tip, stroking the base as you felt the unmistakable feeling of his hot cum shooting in your mouth. You stroked him through it then took him down your throat, swallowing his cum.

“Good girl, such a good girl,” he cooed.

He pulled you up, his hands immediately all over your naked body as he kissed you. He flipped you over so that he was on top of you, his dark eyes piercing yours. He leaned down once more, his lips pressed against yours then his tongue slipped inside your mouth. As his tongue sucked on yours, you felt his hard cock press against your pussy.

“Reach down and put my cock inside you,” he panted.

You did as you were told, your bottom lip going between your teeth at the pure intimacy of the moment. You took ahold of his shaft, dragging it up and down your folds as you moaned before pressing it inside your hole. Just the tip of his cock inside made you feel full and you gripped his bicep to ground yourself.

He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as his cock deepened. “Tell me how good it feels,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. You could feel your orgasm building inside you, and though every inch of your body was alive with pleasure, you focused on him.

“It feels so good,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. He moaned softly, his hands gripping your waist tighter, guiding you with each thrust.

His lips trailed over your skin, kissing your neck, his teeth grazing gently as he picked up the pace. “You’re perfect,”’he murmured between kisses, his hands never leaving your body, his touch firm but gentle. “So responsive. I can't get enough of you.”

He kissed you deeply, his lips taking control, his tongue gently exploring as he moved above you. Each thrust brushed against your g spot and sent a shiver down your spine, you responded instinctively, your hands gripping his back as your body arched toward him. The rhythm of his movements was steady but increasingly intense, and every thrust felt more intimate than the last.

“Cum for me,” he urged, his voice husky. “I need you to cum on my cock.”

Your nails dug into his strong arms and he held you close, your pussy soaking his cock as your release washed over you. He kissed your forehead, guiding you through your high as you let out soft whimpers.

As he hovered above you, he whispered softly, “Get on your hands and knees.” His hands brushed your back as you obeyed, fingers lingering as he praised you for how perfect you were, how much he appreciated every moment with you.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured, his tone dripping with admiration as he watched his cock disappear inside you. “I’ve never felt a pussy like this.”

His hands moved to your hair, fingers tangling in the coils as he pulled you closer, not in a harsh way, but with a sense of possession, as if he were claiming you. Each time his cock disappeared inside your pussy, you couldn't help but moan softly at how deep he was at this angle, the sensation of his cock sending waves of pleasure through you.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. His hands roamed, squeezing your ass, the praise never stopping, and it only made you ache for more. “I can't get enough of you.”

The combination of his words and the feeling of him so close to you made your body tremble, your moan louder this time, unable to contain the pleasure that built up within you. “You feel incredible,” he murmured again, his touch firm, guiding your ass back to meet his thrusts. He watched as your ass bounced against him, you were so sexy. A masterpiece.

You could hear him breathe deeply as he continued, his admiration never wavering. “You’re everything I’ve wanted,” he whispered.

He rolled his hips to meet your ass then leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. “Cum with me,” he whispered.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be enveloped in the moment and you couldn’t hold back anymore. You creamed all over his cock, feeling a wave of warmth and satisfaction wash over you. Right after, you felt his cum fill your pussy.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice full of adoration as he collapsed on the bed and pulled you close. “You’re perfect,” he said, his hands brushing your curls back from your face, caressing you softly. His touch was possessive, yet kind, as if he wanted to protect you from everything.

“You belong with me,” he whispered.

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writersblockiskillingme · 3 months ago

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Russian Roulette | The Salesman

Pairing: The Salesman x fem!reader

Summary: After doing everything in your power to find the salesman who got you and Gi-hun into all this mess, he unexpectedly shows up in your motel room.

Warning/s: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2!!, angst, unspoken feelings (until now), guns, playing Russian Roulette, threatening, mocking, blood, character death, cursing (maybe, idk), tears, talk about the games, tension, reader gives off femme fatale energy, also reader has longer hair to fit into a braid but if you don't just ignore it please, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I just watched the first few episodes, and for a little while, I got out of the writers block. NO SPOILERS, PLEASE!

Prequel to this fic here!

Rain was pouring down like crazy, wind blowing around as I drove my black car with full speed as I tried to get to the Pink Motel that Gi-hun and I co-owned as fast as I possibly could after today's events. Gun that was placed on the seat next to me was jumping slightly as I drow down the road every time I hit a bump or such. My left hand gripped the steering wheel til my knuckles turned pure white as my right hand gripped the phone to the same extent.

"I found bloodstains there!" I practically shouted into my phone as I came to a stop, the images of blood seeping down the trash bags and the knife thrown on the ground never really leaving my mind. "Gi-hun is still looking, I'm sure they didn't get far from that alley."

"What do we do, miss?"

"Check all the CCTV and dashcam footage you can collect from the area and keep asking around." I continued to practically shout for him to hear me over the rain on the street, my braid swinging over on my left shoulder as I got out of the car, running towards the entrance to the Pink Motel.

"I'll join you soon." And with that, I ended the call, quickly putting my phone in the left pocket of my jacket.

I roughly pulled loose threads of hair that fell on my eyes as I quickly took out the key. However, I came to a sudden stop. Something wasn't right. I found myself freezing as I slowly moved my head to look around. That's when I noticed. The sign of the Pink Motel was lit up.

Someone is here, and they want me to know that.

I stood there in the rain for a little while before I decided to take a deep breath before entering. I walked up all the way to the fourth floor before entering, the light going on as I did. I walked into my bedroom as quietly as I could. But even before I could prepare myself for what I was about to see, just as I walked to the end of the first corner, I saw him.

After three years of endlessly, tirelessly trying to find him, he was here. Right in front of me. He was standing in front of my wall, a shining black gun in his hand, looking at the calendar on which I crossed the dates with red marker every single day for three years. Next to in was a map of the underground, every single route mapped out, drawn on, and my handwriting shone on it to.

"It's been a long time, Miss."

For a while, I said nothing. I was just standing there, soaking wet, the rain that I took with me inside dripping on the floor. I was staking in his appearance for a moment. He was just as tall as I remember, standing there in his suit. For a moment, it seemed like he didn't change one bit, like nothing changed from the moment that I fist saw him on the train station three years ago.

But it did.

His hair was longer, I won the games alongside Gi-hun, we weren't on the train station, but in my Motel room, he wasn't holding a briefcase, he was holding a gun and I didn't.

But his voice was the same, he was still as tall as I remember, I suppose his smile was the same, too. And maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same feelings he did three years ago before I gained and lost it all.

I just sighed and moved towards the table I ate. There was a towel that I threw last night. I started to pat my hair, trying to dry it off as I looked around for some dry clothes.

"You should've gotten on that plane that day." He said, looking over at me as I paused.

"I changed my mind when I saw you there." I said before continuing to dry myself.

The moment of quiet continued as I put the towel away. He tapped the map with his gun before he started to speak again. I truly didn't know how to feel. After I wasted three years trying to find him, he just shows up at my motel room. Funny.

"It looks like you've been trying hard to find me, darling." I could just hear that ignorant smirk in his voice. Motherfucker.

"Don't let it get to your head." I told him slowly, my voice completely calm. "I just wanted to thank you." I said as I took off my wet jacket, throwing it in the corner.

"Thank me?" He asked as he sat down on one of the sofas by the table next to my bed. I turned to look at him slowly, a dry jacket in my hand. That's when I noticed blood on the collar of his suit and his face. Motherfucker.

"For inviting me to the game." I said as I approached him, his eyes on me as I sat down, opposite him. "I won and took a bloody fortune with me."

He kept quiet, listening to me, his dark eyes flickering all over my face as I spoke.

"So the decent thing of me to do would be to thank you for it."

"I'm just a messenger who delivers invitations." He smirked, but before he could say more, I continued, all off my anger resurfacing.

"And just who had you deliver those invitations, handsome?" I spoke, venom infecting my every word. "Let me meet him. I have something to say to him."

"Give me the message, and I'll pass it along." He continued, giving me a smile at the end. It appears that I was right. His smile is the same.

"Oh, dear." I mockingly pouted as I crossed my legs. "I'm afraid that it's not something I can discuss with an underling like you."

His smile quivered as he raised his eyebrow. Waiting on me to continue.

"You prey on people who are hanging by a thread and corner them at subway stations." I could feel myself slowly starting to shake from anger and despair. "Someone like you wouldn't be able to understand what I'm trying to say, of course."

For a while, there was silence yet again. We were just looking at each other. Our eyes never leaving each other's.

"You know what the funniest thing was?"

"What, miss?"

"For a moment, when I was hunting you down, I was just delusional enough to think that we could actually team up. You know? Take down the games and whoever was behind them. I liked you. And I liked to think that. But now I realize just how wrong I was." I whispered, turning away from him as I spoke. Yet I still felt his eyes on me. "And boy was I wrong. You will never change. You like the monstrous things that you are doing."

"How do you think I got to where I am now?"

"I don't fucking care." I spat at him as I turned to look at him again, his expression unreadable. "I don't care how you became their dog. I just want you to bring me your master."

He looked down, sighing as he cracked his neck, gun still in his hold. After a while he spoke again.

"I used to work in the games when I was younger. I removed and burned the bodies of countless people like you."

He was the pink guard once.

"'These things aren't human. They're just trash utterly useless in this world.' I kept telling myself that and worked hard for a few years." He spoke, suddenly smiling again. "Then they gave me a gun."

The triangle guard.

"It felt pretty good." He said as he lifted up his gun, examining it. "Like my existence was acknowledged for the first time in my life. I don't know which year it was, but one day, I was about to shoot a man who had lost a game. The guy seemed familiar. Guess who it was."

I kept quiet.

"My dad." He finally said. "My dad was suddenly standing in front of me. He was in tears, desperately begging me to spare his life."

He suddenly moved his hand, placing the gun in front of my forehead, but his suddenly, quick movement did not startle me one bit. I was used to it.

"I shot him right in the middle of his forehead, and realized, 'Ah. I'm cut out for this job.'"

He was looking straight at me, his dark eyes mad. I narrowed mine at him. Was I supposed to feel sorry for him? Maybe, but I didn't. Not only did he enjoy it, but he also has no idea how it was like for me. All the things Gi-hun and I went through. All of people we lost along the way... Ali... Sae-byeok... Sang-woo...

"Whether you shoot people in there or con them outside, it doesn't change anything." I said, slowly leaning over towards him. "You have always been nothing more than their dog."

He clicked his gun, putting his finger on the trigger, his expression darkening.

"Miss." He started, his hand shaking slightly as I kept completely still. "Do you think you're special because you won the game?"

I said nothing. My expectation still as I leaned forward just a bit more, pressing my forehead directly on his gun. His dark expression broke into one of shock.

"Someone like you could never know or understand how I made it out of there alive. And how it feels to play the games."

Suddenly, he pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. My expression barely changed, yet I could he on his face that my eyes old him every. Shock, disappointment and sadness.

He sighed before leaning over to me on the table that until now kept us at a distance. He was quiet for a while. I suppose he has always been that way.

"Let's play a game." He smiled at me.

I didn't say anything. He pulled out his phone and placed it on the table, letting a song play.

Time to say goodbye.

He leaned back against the seat as he lifted up his gun.

"I'm sure you've seen this in the movies." He started to explain, never breaking eye contact with me. "It's called Russian Roulette."

Motherfucker.

"Usually, you place one bullet in the gun, spin the cylinder, and pull the trigger." He said, clicking the gun in its place before pulling the trigger, explaining the game as he showed me what to do. "And before the next round, you spin the cylinder again. It rests the odds back to 1 in 6."

"I know." I mumbled and he smiled.

"But I'd like to make this game a little more serious." He smirked. "Because you're truly special, love."

"Cut to the chase." I glared at him and his stupid antics. He blinked at me and continued.

"We'll take turns pulling the trigger without spinning the cylinder again. The bullet will be fired within six attempts, and the game will be over." He paused. "What do you say?"

"Spin the gun." I frowned.

He smirked before gently placing the gun on the table. This could end badly on both sides, but for a moment, I found myself being selfish. Maybe, just maybe, if I lost this game after everything I went through, I could die and find peace with the people I lost. I could join them and leave with the feelings I have for him, that he possibly realized, unsaid. I could finally end it all. The night terrors, the time I spent searching for him, my cigarette addiction, mourning what I lost and what I couldn't have, yet at the same time not enjoying the money I got form the games. Who could enjoy that? Who could possibly enjoy living the life that I live.

He spinned the gun, and its tip pointed at me. Without a second thought, I took the gun and placed it by the side of my head. A few seconds later, not looking away from him, I pulled the trigger. Noting happened. That chamber was empty.

I put the gun on the table. I barely had time to move my hand before he took the gun, placed it by his head just like I did and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He sighed in content as he placed the gun back on the table, smiling at me almost lovingly. I knew.

I took the gun and placed it by my head again, but before I could just pull the trigger he spoke up.

"I've always wondered how you made it out of there alive." He smiled before he laughed a little. "For, one thing, you were even terrible at ddakji."

I said nothing, glaring at him. I pulled the trigger. Nothing happened once again.

He looked at me, impressed by my luck so far. I looked him straight in the eyes as I threw the gun on the table. It slid over on the other side, right in front of me.

He took the gun after he took a moment to just look at me. Not breaking eye contact, he took the gun. Leaned over to me until he was basically touching me, pointing the gun at me. Then he did something that I did not expect at all. He put the gun in his mouth.

Motherfucker.

He pulled the trigger. I winced a little. Nothing again. He laughed at my expression as I tried my hardest to keep myself composed. He slowly took the gun out of his mouth before sitting back, putting the gun back on the table.

I took the gun and as I was about to place it by my head he spoke up again.

"What's the matter?" He asked me, raising his eyebrows. "Is your mind starting to race?"

I scoffed slightly.

Motherfucker.

"Now your odds of death are 1 in 2." He nodded. "That's pretty high indeed. I'm sure you're afraid, darling. Lots going through your mind."

I said nothing.

"Let me guess what you're thinking right now." Motherfucker. "'The gun is in my hand. Screw the rules. Pull the trigger once or twice, and I can blow his face off.' Isn't that right?"

I kept looking at him, glaring as I did. All while he spoke. "If you and Gi-hun want to meet the person you mentioned earlier, the key is in my pocket." At that I allowed my eyes to travel all over him. "You can simply shoot me with that gun and take it. But I'll have you admit one thing."

He took a moment to pause, my hand still holding the gun by my head. He leaned over once again.

"That you're a piece of trash, just like Gi-hun, just like everyone else that was in the games." He leaned over more closely, our lips practically touching as he spoke. "A piece of trash who got lucky and made it out of the dumpster."

He laughed as I pressed the gun against my head, our lips barely an inch away from each other's. This was it, I thought to myself. This round will determine if I live or die. I tightened the grip on the gun, my knuckles turning white again. I pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He looked at me, then at the gun and then back at me. I started to chuckle lowly, like a maniac. Perhaps I was one. I watched his face closely as I pulled the gun away from my head. The grip on the gun still tight as I pointed it at his chin before slowly opening up my palm, waiting on him to take the final, real shot.

His hand touched mine. I felt him and myself freeze at the contact as he took the gun from my hand. I pulled my hand away as he looked at the gun.

"What's the matter?" I taunted him, my face mirroring the smirk that he always wears. "Is your mind starting to race?"

He said nothing as I spoke to him.

"That's right. Screw the rules. Now, with a single pull of the trigger, you could kill me." He looked pale at my words. "But... before you leave me forever this time. I'll have you admit two things."

He looked at me as I brought my hand at his cheek, wiping a little bit of blood on his face.

"You put a mask on your face and do whatever your master says. You run, bark, and wave your tail for them. You're nothing more than their dog." I told him before my voice became gentle.

He waited on me, his eyes soft.

"And regarding this." I said as I waved my hand slightly between the two of us. "You really are a dog. A dog that loves me. And... perhaps I am a fool, too. Because I love a dog that could've made it all work out for us but was too much of a coward to do so."

I leaned over to him, my hand landing under his chin, holding him.

"Admit it." I whispered as we looked each other in the eyes. "Admit that you love me, that you did ever since you gave me that fucking card."

For a moment, there was silence. His tortured eyes, looking at me. I knew. I always did. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, for a moment. This would be the last time that I spoke to him, that I could look into his eyes.

"I love you." He whispered.

All of a sudden, there was a loud sound followed by blood spraying my face as his body fell backward.

I stood up and walked over to him. I don't know how long I stood there, but after a while, I felt a tear sliding down my cheek. My hand touched my cheek as I whipped it away.

Motherfucker.

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