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fuckyeahdindjarin · 11 months ago

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Voicemail

A Seams oneshot, but can be read independently of the series

{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: T

Summary: You find Joel's old Nokia at the back of a drawer.

Warnings: Angst, description of a panic attack, grief, comfort, no use of Y/N, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has no physical description, definitely incorrect description of how mobile phones work, very lightly edited.

As always, Seams oneshots are set on a relaxed timeline. Voicemail can be considered to take place at an unspecified time after Part IV.

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: I don't know if anyone has written anything similar, but I've always wanted to write something about Joel's Nokia (the idea for Butter actually came from the phone scene in episode 1 - can't you tell? lol). This idea took me by surprise one night and didn't let me go.

Important note: I know voicemails don't work this way, but let's pretend that they are saved onto the mobile phone itself and can be accessed decades later, and that a Nokia can indeed survive the apocalypse.

After the outbreak, after Sarah, after missing his shot - he doesn’t remember much of those early, blurry days. Tommy barely managed to drag his catatonic ass to an abandoned house somewhere on the outskirts of town, where he had to punch him in the face to snap him out of it.

It being a cocktail of shock, grief, pain and numbness that should’ve killed him, could’ve killed any man. And for the longest time he wished that it did.

It was in the aftershock of that punch, left cheek snapped to his shoulder and his eyes downcast, that Joel saw his Nokia was still clipped to his belt, by some miracle unscathed when everything else had fallen apart.

And he keeps it all these years.

He hadn’t meant to take it with him when he packed up his meagre life to leave Boston behind. But the grubby afternoon light glanced off the screen when he was grabbing maps and hammers from under the dusty floorboards, and with a fuck it, he shrugged and shoved it into the bottom of his backpack.

If he was being honest with himself, it didn’t feel right leaving it behind.

And so the phone made it to Jackson, and survived the detour to Salt Lake City, largely forgotten. Joel was almost surprised by the sight of it when he finally unpacked his bag in the house that was now his and Ellie’s.

With a wry smile, he tossed it into a nondescript drawer in the garage, never to see the light of day again.

Until one weekend, Joel asks you to help him find some obscure screwdriver in his garage, not able to get up from where he’s on his back, stemming the flow of the perpetually leaky sink in Ellie’s bathroom.

The space is cool, the shutters down and the air dank from the lack of sun. Under the flickering fluorescent light, you go through a frankly ridiculous number of toolboxes without sighting the elusive screwdriver. With a sigh, you try the middle drawer in the workbench, which is clogged with what looks like everything under the sun.

Your lips twitch - Joel Miller is a messy man.

Digging around the random clutter, you startle when your fingers brush the long-forgotten, yet instantly familiar plastic case of the Nokia.

Wrapping your hand around the rectangular frame, you smile, in disbelief that you’re holding a mobile phone. You had a similar one that got lost in the confusion of the first days of the outbreak, and you haven’t seen one in the years since. At least not one in such good condition.

Joel’s faraway voice jolts you out of your thoughts. ‘Found it, sweetheart?’

‘Just a second!’ you call back.

Tucking the phone back where it came from, you grab the nearest screwdriver and hope for the best.

It takes you a few days of asking around town, poking around dusty storerooms and untangling twenty year-old electric cords, but you eventually find what you’re looking for, and there’s a spring in your step as you cook dinner that evening.

Joel seems to pick up on your energy, and he grins, amused, when he brings in the empty dishes after you eat.

‘You’re buzzin’ out of your skin, sweetheart,’ he teases, grabbing you by the waist. ‘What’s up with you?’

You cock your head to the side. ‘Well, I have a surprise for you.’

‘Is that so?’ he hums, then lets his voice drop an octave in playful insinuation. ‘What kind of surprise, hmm?’

‘Not that kind of surprise,’ you huff with a smile. ‘It’s - it’s hard to explain.’

‘Try me.’

Twisting out of his grip, you open a cabinet and pull out something that fits neatly in your palm. Joel frowns, confused by what looks like - a charger.

When you speak, it’s slow, as if you don’t want to startle him. ‘There’s a whole warehouse of wires and things down by the canteen. A patrol stumbled across an electronics shop in a nearby town a few years ago.’

He gives you a crooked smile. ‘And what am I s’pposed to do with it, sweetheart?’

You take a moment, making sure that his eyes are on you before the words come out. ‘I found the Nokia in your garage the other day, when I was looking for the screwdriver.’

You watch as Joel processes your words, and he goes still, stiller than you’ve ever seen him.

Then he blinks and shuffles his feet, glancing down at the charger. ‘I - I didn’t expect this.’

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. ‘I know. And you don’t have to do anything with it, really, but I just wanted you to have it.’

He nods, slowly. ‘Ok.’

Hesitating, you stutter, ‘So, um, do you - want to take it -?’

Joel holds his hand out, calloused palm quietly upturned. You half expect him to jump at the contact, but he doesn’t move a muscle when the black wire lands in his grasp, and his thick fingers curl around them.

‘I got the dishes, if you want to go first,’ you prompt softly.

Joel swallows, then nods. ‘Yeah, I think I’ll do that. If y’ don’t mind, sweetheart.’

‘Of course,’ you smile, pressing a kiss to his lips.

It’s cold outside, but he doesn’t feel it, not when the charger seems to be burning a hole in his hand. When he gets back to his house - empty, Ellie is at Lucy’s for dinner - he heads straight to the garage, and tugs open the drawer.

The Nokia stares back at him, screen blank.

Flinging the charger into the drawer without seeing where it lands, he shoves the drawer close with a snap.

Weeks pass. It hangs in the back of his mind like a spector, even though you don’t bring it up again, and he doesn’t either.

He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all - hopeful of what he would find on it.

It’s been twenty years. Electronics don’t last that long. It’s gotta be wiped clean.

One Wednesday night, Ellie is upstairs, music blaring, doing ‘homework’ or whatever she does on a weeknight (he doesn’t believe in helicopter parenting), and Joel finds his thoughts drifting to that damn drawer.

Feeling reckless, he reaches for the top shelf in the kitchen, pours himself two fingers of whiskey, and charges into the garage.

Hopping onto a workstool, he takes a big gulp of liquid courage and sets the tumbler on the work surface. Before his resolve slips completely out of touch, he yanks on the handle, and he winces when the drawer yawns open with a screech.

The Nokia feels foreign to the touch, like he’s forgotten how to hold a phone. It was, of course, glued to his ear almost all hours of the day and night once upon a time. He turns the plastic case over and the other way around again, smoothing the pad of his thumb over the buttons.

There’s no putting it off forever.

In goes the plug into the electric socket, and he looks down, phone in the left hand, the end of the charger in the other.

He thinks he’s seeing double until he realises that his hands are fucking shaking.

In one determined motion, he slots the charger into the bottom of the phone and drops it like it’s acid.

Then he downs the rest of his whiskey.

He’s not sure how long he stares, the very air around him as unmoving as himself, and he feels the alcohol spread its warm fingers through his veins.

Just when he’s about to look away, it happens.

The battery sign appears on the screen.

Joel almost chokes on a chuckle. He can’t fucking believe it. You really can’t kill a Nokia if you tried.

It doesn’t take long for the familiar home screen to pop up, the time on the top right corner, the battery in the bottom right. The bright green glare casts a cool glow in the dim. Joel picks up the phone, only to be nearly knocked backwards off the chair when the words flash across the screen.

1 NEW VOICEMAIL.

He’s sure his heart has stopped, it definitely feels like it, a deadweight in his chest sinking into his stomach. But he hears it, the relentless beat of it, pounding violently in his ears. Too fast. Gripping the edge of the work surface, he tries to breathe, mouth open, but air isn’t getting in.

It could be nothing. Could be a voicemail he missed from a client that night, or a junk call.

He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all -

He’s trembling so badly that he needs both hands to hold the phone steady, just so that his thumb presses the selection key.

He doesn’t hear the pre-recorded message, his brain skips it entirely. Then there’s five seconds of silence, and his life flashes before his eyes at the familiar beep -

Dad, are you on your way home? Please tell me you remembered the cake. Uncle Tommy bet me ten dollars that you won’t and I kinda need that lunch money tomorrow. See you soon, love you dad -

And everything goes white.

When Joel comes around, he’s on his knees, the empty tumbler in crystalline pieces around him. The phone is no longer attached to the charger, clutched so tightly in his hands that he feels the imprint of every button in his palm.

He won’t know that his face is wet with tears until you thumb the streaks off his cheeks on your doorstep minutes later, no memory of how he got there. You draw him into you, but your embrace barely contains his broad frame.

You can’t get him far in his state, whiskey on his breath and shivering all over. You drag him across the living room and onto the couch, where you curl up against him, warming him up with your body heat, cradling his head on your chest. The candlelight bounces off the phone screen, which glows green in his grasp.

It will take him weeks to get his head around what you have given him. And when he does, he will ask if you want to hear Sarah’s voice - shyly - as if you would ever say no.

Watching him watch you, Sarah’s warm, fun-loving voice in your ear, the seams of your lashes sting with tears as your heart clenches, swells, breaks for him - and then put together again by his hand finding you, fingers filling the gaps between yours.

But for now, he lies prostrate, his weight pinning you to the couch, as you comb soothing fingers through his hair, anchoring him to you.

‘I got you, Joel,’ you whisper in his ear, and his eyelids droop and his breathing evens out, as if he’s run a thousand miles. ‘I got you.’

As he drifts off to sleep - his baby girl's love you dad echoing between his ears - he knows that you do.

More notes: I don't lean too hard into angst in my fics as a rule, so this took me places I haven't been for a while, but it's ok cos Pin's got our man 🥺 Thank you for reading, as always! ❤��

#fuckyeahseams #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller oneshot #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction

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medlilove · 7 months ago

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(Edited to add headshots because tumblr hates detail) I've etched away at this is a lovely few weeks, so click for full res and all the little details, okay? It's my love letter to the journey I've found myself on

This is long-ish, so its under the cut (but worth reading...)

I had been thinking a lot recently about that double feature episode, you know the one? I half remembered it then, when they chased a bunch of alien spies so fast through the solar system they all got thrown back in time. Half the crew went on a little undercover adventure in Toronto in 2024. It was great because they got completely cut off from the Enterprise, so half of them, well mostly Uhura and Spock if I recall correctly, spent their time collecting as many radios as possible and worked on building their own communications. Uhura and Spock were basically taking turns constantly tweaking radios by the window with wires everywhere. Oh yeah, their base of operations was the whole top floor of a worn out old building looking over a big square. They ended up in the really arty/queer part of town full of art galleries and thrift stores.....??

Chapel and Chekov were sent out to those shops to find disguises for everyone. I loved the joke that Chekov was puzzled and slightly alarmed that Christine just knew everyone's clothes sizes and measurements with no explanation. Later on, they ended up getting separated from the rest of the group and getting held up by B story shenanigans, mostly getting lost and running into culture shocks. It was fun to see them having their own adventures and made for a pretty interesting combo. Spock and Uhura spent most of their time with the tech, accidentally listening to the times most popular music while changing frequencies. Jim and Sulu paired off to search for clues, and getting supplies and spent a lot of time talking to the locals setting up for a Pride parade. McCoy, feeling paranoid and irritable that he had practically no equipment, wandered around with Dr Alfred Nahdi, the Botanist, who kept picking random weeds and talking about how extraordinary the little dandelions were. Oh and together they stole a whole medical bag out of an ambulance?? It was pretty funny. Anyway, the main issue was they couldn’t risk leaving the area because all these alien spies had assimilated into the population and they had to track them all down and bring them back with them so as not to disrupt the timeline or something. They had to track down the aliens while making sure the aliens didn't pick up on who they were or that they were also out of place. They ended up being there for around two whole ass months, I think. The spies were spread out all over and there were about 30 of them, but it ended up being the Botanist, Alfred (Alfie) Nahdi who found the enemy base of operations by complete accident. Alfred, who had spent most of the time studying all the common flowers and weeds that were so ordinary at that time but were extinct in their time, figured out where the aliens' base of operations was because the big plant shop at the end of the square had a few succulents that could not have existed in 2024. It was a big "woah" moment. And there was this whole thing where he had to act like he hadn’t just figured it out because the florist, who was almost certainly a spy, was watching him and McCoy. But soon after, it all went to hell anyway when a fight broke out and Sulu was straight up shot with the aliens' weapon that had bullets made from alien metal. So then Bones had to perform old school surgery on him in their HQ, with only 2024 equipment. Jim, Spock, and Uhura were out fighting and ran into Chapel and Chekov and were able to finish them off, but it got really crazy because there was a Pride parade in the square at the same time so they had to make sure no one noticed them. While Bones was pulling bullets out of Sulu, with the botanist assisting him until Chapel (who had been sent by Jim) appeared and took over. McCoy said something like, “Christine, I’ve never been so glad to see you in my life,” and they sewed him up all old school. And it worked out! But Bones was a mess because he had to do messy surgery with none of his kit, and so much pressure, and more blood than he was used to... Chapel stayed with Sulu, and Bones and Nahdi went to sit on the fire escape stairwell and had a sweet scene of Bones just full of adrenaline, his hands couldn't stop shaking. They sat hand in hand for a while listening to all the people on the streets below. Then Spock, Jim, Uhura, and Chekov appeared at the stairwell and they all had a happy, albeit exhausted reunion. After a day of everyone recovering from all the excitement, Uhura and Spock used some extra tech they got from the aliens and finally made contact with poor Scotty who was up on the Enterprise losing the will to live. Anyway, their outfits were iconic tbh.

I invented this whole thing to draw Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy in a sweater. I lost control of the situation. I spent a lovely two weeks etching away at this with the support of my lovely ST server, I love you guys. This ones for you.

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lincolndjarin · 1 year ago

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Every Now and Then - ch. one

[ I Dream of Something Wild ]

pairing : joel miller x f!reader, platonicsoulmate!tommy & f!reader

word count : 6.4k

summary : Joel Miller destroyed you. He loved you, then he left, leaving you in the New York City, QZ. But he's a good southern gentleman, so of course he didn't leave you without a reminder of the time you spent together. Four years later you're living in Jackson, in a lovely little ranch house. (With your reminder.) The last person you want to see is Joel Miller, unfortunately you've never been particularly lucky.

tags/warnings : 18+ mdni, angst, canon typical violence, injury, language, manipulation, joel takes advantage of readers situation, eventual smut, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, she is picked up by joel at one point but i'm a firm believer that he's strong enough to lift any one who may find themselves in the pov of our reader, joel is possessive and controlling, dark!joel miller in a sense?? like he's not really dark now but he's going to be, multiple time lines, not canon compliant, mentions of prostitution, i sorta made up my own timeline, i probs missed tags sorry!!

a/n : i really need to fix my writing schedule so i'm hoping that having a new fic to put my energy into is going to help!! also sorry if this chapter doesn't have much going on i need to set up a lot of stuff but i promise more action in future chapters

ao3 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ main masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ kofi

He crept up on you like the shadows as the sun sets in the west. An all encompassing darkness that blotted out the sun until all that was left was night. He sunk his claws into you so deep that your eyes adjusted to the dark, and you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you shrunk away from the inevitable sunrise that made him cower away from the dawn as if he never really was big and scary.

And in the light of day you saw him for what he really was.

He was just a man, who was once a boy, who was scared of the dark.

So he made himself big, and terrifying, and he grew so accustomed to the thing he once feared that the very idea of anything else made him recoil.

You feel something akin to pity when you think of him now. That doesn’t mean you forgive him, but when you can stomach it you try to, for the sake of your peace. You’d probably be happier if you could just forgive him.

But you can’t.

So you don’t.

It’s hard when his own blood doesn’t think he’s a good man. Tommy was afraid of him. Terrified at the very thought of his big brother. You can recall several nights where you had woken up to him screaming in the sleeping bag beside you, absolutely petrified of a memory that had inevitably snuck in through the darkness. You never feared him quite like that, but seeing the effect he has on Tommy makes your stomach churn, a painful reminder of your own suffering.

Most of the time it’s easier to just not think of him at all, despite the reminders he’s branded into you forever. You ignore him when he tries to soak back into your very being, but at the end of the day he’s unavoidable. You see him in the dark brown eyes of others, hear him in Tommy’s southern drawl, taste him when you have the occasional sip of whiskey. He tries and tries relentlessly to worm his way back into you, but you never let him. You put up walls and you focus on other things, anything, that isn’t Joel Miller. And even though you can’t forget him entirely you manage to ignore the memory of the man you once loved for several years.

Until one day it’s impossible to keep the thought of him away.

Until he himself makes it impossible.

Then - NEW YORK CITY, QUARANTINE ZONE : 2019

“Stay off of it or you’re going to lose it.”

That’s what the QZ doctor had told you. A couple weeks of bed rest was the most he could offer when you came to him with your broken ankle.

A couple weeks without working is a death sentence.

If you don’t work you won’t be able to afford food. And you don’t have anybody to fall back on, no family, no friends, not even an acquaintance to borrow funds from.

Lose your leg or starve.

As appealing as it sounds, starvation isn’t an option, too painful.

So you have to work. The only issue with that is you’ve been blacklisted, the stupid doctor had you put on a no-shift list. You beg them to let you work, you’ll do anything, but they never budge.

You only have enough ration cards stocked up to make it to the end of the week so you have to consider your other options. You could sell yourself. It certainly isn’t uncommon and the money’s good but it’s too dangerous, especially if you can’t run on your leg. You’ve seen too many people get hurt in that profession to risk it. You don’t have a trade. You’re terrible at sewing, you can’t cook, there isn’t a need for much of anything else and you own nothing valuable.

So there’s only one other option for you.

You steal.

You dress inconspicuously, in your only pair of jeans and a plain shirt, both of which are getting rather tattered at this point but you have nothing else. With your jacket on you pull up your hood and you do the exact thing you aren’t supposed to do, and you walk.

The conditions in the QZ are poor enough that your limp doesn’t stand out. You walk up and down the streets all day, slow and steady, with your head down and you don’t take risks. You don’t take anything big or obvious, just little things. A single ration card peeking out of a pocket, a pocket knife off a vendor's table, stale bread, set away from the good stuff where no one is looking. And you return home each night with your pockets full and your leg aching.

By the end of your second week you’re still barely scraping by but you’re managing. What little ration cards you manage to snatch you use to buy food, but it’s still nothing compared to what you’re used to making. Your ankle feels worse by the day.

You need more.

You need to find a source of income that will let you rest or you’re going to lose your leg, which will leave you in an even worse position. It isn’t until you hear your neighbor slam his door that you come up with an idea.

Your neighbor probably has more cards than he knows what to do with, and he’s always coming and going so he probably wouldn’t even notice if you skimmed a little off the top. Nothing substantial, just enough to keep you going and give your leg time to heal.

The only problem is your neighbors reputation.

You doubt you’d have much of a chance of surviving him if you got caught. Joel Miller was a bit of an urban legend around the QZ. Of course you only knew him as your stoic neighbor, just a guy who didn’t make a lot of noise and came home at strange hours, and sometimes disappeared for days at a time.

But everyone else acted as if he was some kind of Boogey Man. You didn’t see him much in the streets but when you did children ran and people whispered, and while you had no knowledge of how he earned that reputation you knew it probably wasn’t pretty.

So you’d have to be careful.

He’s gone now, you’d heard him stopping down the hall so you decide it couldn’t hurt to take a peek, just scout out the area.

You climb out onto the fire escape, your leg aching as you do, and you use the dull little knife you’d stolen a few days ago to shimmy open his window lock. It slides open pretty easily, he’s probably rather confident that nobody would ever mess with him so he doesn’t seem to have the usual precautions taken to protect his belongings.

Lucky you.

Stepping into the room you wince as you land on your bad leg, stumbling onto the floor, knocking a board loose in the process.

“Shit.” You groan, sitting up quickly, trying to put everything back in its proper place when you catch a glimmer of something under the floor.

A revolver.

You shouldn’t be here. Joel Miller is a dangerous man, you knew that but you did this anyway, you can’t help but feel incredibly stupid as you stare at the weapon. You feel so stupid that you don’t even hear the click of a lock. You don’t even bother with the ration cards you can see peeking out from under the gun, you just want to leave and forget that you ever thought this was a good idea. It’s a struggle, getting back to your feet, your leg is throbbing, begging for a rest you can’t afford to take right now. With a groan you push the window open, eager for this silly idea to be over you try to figure out the best way to go about this. You’re starting to lose feeling in your leg, should you go bad leg first or try to balance on it while shimmying the rest of your body out the window?

You never get to decide what the best course of action is because your head is slammed against the wall, your knees crumple underneath you as you hit the floor, the room spinning as your leg bends at an angle that makes you shriek. You slap your hand over your mouth but it’s far too late for that. He’s been here the whole time. It’s dark but you can still make out the foreboding shape of his figure. The broad shouldered beast that’s glaring down at you, his boot nudging your chin roughly as you bite back a shriek of fear.

“I could report you to FEDRA for this.” The gruff voice whispers into the darkness.

You’re desperate to avoid lockup, you know you’ll die in there, or worse. Although you’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen to you either way.

“I- I’ll tell them about your contraband.” You point frantically at the loose floor board. “They’ll lock you up too.” His glare is unwavering as he stares down at you. You’re a little worried that he might just kill you himself, there would be no consequences, no one would be looking for you.

No one would look for you.

The thought makes you shudder and even though you try to stop yourself you feel your eyes beginning to water. You hear footsteps, watching his outline move across the room before you’re shrinking away from the light of a dim lamp in the corner.

“You gotta be real dumb to find yourself in this situation.” He mutters, turning back around to stare at you. His gaze makes you want to cover yourself up, it’s like he can see every single part of you within that icy glare. You’ve never taken the time to really, truly look at him before but you do now, after all this might be your last chance to look at anything at all.

He isn’t a terrible last sight.

Sure, he’s ominous enough to make you want to try and run despite the ache in your calf right now, but that doesn’t make him any less handsome. In a rugged, weathered sort of way. He’s older than you thought, gray sprinkled throughout the mess of curls framing his face. What a nice face it is. Soft where it needs to be soft, sharp where it needs to be sharp. He marches back over to you, easily taking the pocket knife from your hand and crouching down in front of you.

“Give me one good reason not to finish you off right now.” He points the blade in the direction of your leg. “Seems like it’d be a mercy at this point.”

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe it would be a mercy to just let him put you out of your misery. Why have you been fighting so hard? You can’t seem to recall a reason other than the fact that that’s what you’re supposed to do. Your mind tells you that you’re supposed to keep fighting but you can’t think of a single driving force. You’re in pain, constantly, you live in a world that wants you dead, and you have no one relying on you.

You don’t have a good reason, other than the fact that surviving is all you know how to do. So you look up at him and you nod. Taking in the sight of the pretty, frightening man one last time before closing your eyes.

It feels good. You feel good, for the first time in a long time, knowing that you won’t hurt anymore. You won’t have to be afraid of someone kicking your door in, you won’t have to worry about where your next meal is going to come from, and you won’t have to worry about turning into a monster. It’s a mercy.

So you close your eyes.

Suddenly grateful for the killer before you, your guardian angel, here to deliver you the peace you didn’t know you needed.

You wait patiently for the sting of a blade or the embrace of his hands around your throat but all you're met with is a sigh. When you finally find the courage to open your eyes he’s sitting on the edge of the bed across from you, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Just go.” He grumbles, muttering a few other words you don’t catch.

You’re almost disappointed, having accepted this was the end, and now you’re being shoved back into the cold and unforgiving world. You start to get to your feet but your knees buckle under you. You try again, willing your leg to just work but much to your dismay you can’t even straighten out your leg anymore. When you try to move it all you find yourself only able to bend your knee a few inches.

Shit.

You think of the fall you took on the way in and wonder if you finally pushed yourself to the limit. If you go back to the doctor will he remove the entire thing? Maybe you should just ask Joel to finish the job before it comes to that. It would be a kindness, between a quick death here or a slow death starving in your apartment you’ll take the quick way every time. Before you even have a chance to ask he’s on his feet. Maybe his patience has run out and you won’t have to ask at all.

“Let me.” His voice rattles around in your head, so low and commanding that you put up no resistance as he lifts you up under your arms and sets you down on the edge of the bed where he just was. He flips the knife out, going to cut your jeans off of you but you stop him.

“Wait!” He freezes in place, giving you an impatient look. “These are my only jeans, just- just pull them down.” Before you can realize how embarrassing it might be to show your neighbor your faded pink panties, you're already unbuttoning your pants, lifting your hips up so he can pull them down your legs with a roll of his eyes. It’s painful, the feeling of the denim running against your skin but it’s better than not having any pants at all.

Fuck.

It’s been a while since you’ve actually looked at your leg. You’re surprised he was able to get your jeans off with how swollen it is, the flesh bulging around your ankle and now up your calf. The skin is shiny and blotchy with shades of purple and red. The sight of it makes you want to hurl but you manage to swallow the urge, looking away as he pokes at the tender flesh.

“Christ girl, what the hell did you do?” When he grabs your ankle to lift your leg you yelp in pain, making him set your leg back down instinctively.

“I just- it’s just a broken ankle.” You mumble as he gives you an incredulous look.

“Like hell it is.” Something about the sternness of his voice demands your obedience as you nod. “Wanna tell me what really happened?”

“Well I- I fell and-” You struggle to find an excuse to justify how bad you let this get but you come up empty. So you tell the truth. “I fell off a ladder while painting over graffiti during my shift and broke my ankle. The doctor told me to stay off of it and- well, I couldn’t afford not to work so I just… didn’t” You rush through your words, staring anywhere else but into his demanding gaze as you explain yourself.

“So you turned to stealin’.” He says it like the fact it is and you can only bring yourself to nod. “You need antibiotics.” He says just as matter of factly. “You know how much that sort of thing costs?”

A lot.

More than you’d have even if you were working overtime.

He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes.

His eyes were so dark that day they threatened to swallow you whole. Were they always that dark? Or was it just that day, the first day, when he realized that he had you.

“Look, I don’t do this kinda thing for just anybody. But I can help you.” He had sounded so kind, his hint of a smile had seemed so promising.

“I can’t afford it-”

“You can use alternative methods to pay me back.”

You told him you’d think about it.

And he hadn’t pushed you, he had simply helped you back into your jeans and carried you back to your apartment. He told you he’d check on you tomorrow and see if you had an answer for him.

So when the next day came and you had a fever and your leg was throbbing, demanding your attention you’d been all too eager to accept his help.

And just like that, it was your idea.

It wasn’t his, he was blameless, you asked him to help you. And it didn’t matter who had suggested it first, it mattered who brought it up after.

You had been certain that when he had told you you’d be using alternative methods to pay him back that his intentions were unsavory. And at that point you didn’t really care, you’d made your peace with that. The medicine you needed wasn’t cheap and you could find worse looking men who didn’t take care of themselves the way Joel did.

But he wanted nothing of the sort.

Southern Manners.

All he wanted was for you to take care of his apartment when he was out with his business partner, a woman who didn’t seem to dislike you but certainly didn’t care for you. He told you to take a week to just rest, take the medicine he brought you, eat the food that he fed you, and be good. So you did as he asked. And after a week you could move a bit more, you started spending your days at Joel’s tidying up and organizing while he was gone, it was much easier to stay off your leg for most of the day and he always made sure there was food and books for you while he was gone. And when he returned he would help you hobble back to your place and help you into bed without complaint and with a promise that he’d be back in the morning.

But you still don’t relax around him.

It doesn’t make sense. Even someone who wasn’t known for their cruelty wouldn’t just take a stranger in. You’d like to believe that there’s good in people but you know better than to have that kind of faith. There isn’t enough left of the world to share the remains. Yet Joel does. He doesn’t ask to know you better and he certainly doesn’t tell you about himself yet he shows you more kindness than anyone else in your life has before.

He must like having someone to take care of.

That’s how you explain it to yourself.

You watch him with Tess and it’s clear who’s in charge there, she barely even lets him stitch her up when she returns to the apartment. Joel gets frustrated every time, huffing and pacing around the room before finding some way to tend to you in her place. Icing your leg, or bringing you a new book to read, or feeding you.

It took a few months for your leg to heal, it had been in such bad shape a part of you worried that it might never be the same as it once was.

After the first month of your arrangement Joel told you his knees hurt and he wouldn’t be able to carry you home, you offered to just walk yourself over, your leg didn’t hurt that bad anymore and you were more than capable of walking short distances. But he insisted you stay, told you you could sleep in the bed and he’d take the couch.

But his knees hurt, you couldn’t let him do that.

And you told him you’d take the couch and he told you he wouldn’t feel right making you sleep on the couch with your leg the way it was.

So you told him you’d both just sleep in the bed. It wasn’t a big deal. You trusted him, of course you did, he had an opportunity to exploit you and he didn’t, if he was going to hurt you he would have done it already.

He had acted unsure.

You know now that it was acting.

So you had insisted. You told him it was okay, you told him you felt safe with him.

It was your idea.

Even though it hadn’t been your idea to stay that night.

You had insisted he get in the bed with you.

A fact that he would bring up often in the months to come.

He would still help you to your apartment some nights, but just as often he’d complain about his knees and you’d stay. You got used to his warmth, you got used to waking up in his arms and not talking about it in the morning.

So it made sense when he told you that you should keep your pajamas at his apartment.

It made sense when he got a toothbrush for you to keep in his bathroom cabinet.

It made sense when he told you that he couldn’t find new clothes in your size and you could just wear his.

It made sense when he told you that he and Tess had never been a thing, so you had no reason to feel weird about sleeping in his bed.

And it made sense when he told you that he’d hold onto the keys to your apartment, afterall you wouldn’t want to lose them.

Joel Miller was a glue trap. And you had waded across his sticky surface without a care in the world, never realizing that it was getting harder and harder to move until you were standing still. Until the only way you were going to escape was by biting off your own leg.

You don’t remember when you stopped returning to your own apartment completely, but you know that it happened early on, before you’d even started chewing.

Now - JACKSON, WYOMING : 2023

“Ruth?” You’re gonna be late if you don’t find her soon. The turntable in the corner of the kitchen plays a 3 Doors Down song as you lift the table cloth, searching for the little girl. “We don’t have time to play, we need to get you to school.” You groan, turning to face the boy currently sitting in a highchair he’s just about grown out of. “Do you know where she is?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, glaring at him as he shrugs.

Of course he isn’t going to tell. They look out for each other before anyone else, a fact that normally fills you with joy but not when they’re ganging up against you. Thankfully you catch his eye as he shoots a glance at the pantry. Pulling the door open you’re quickly met with the sight of Ruth, giggling on the floor. You pick her up, putting her in her own highchair before setting a plate of fruits down in front of her.

“Eat. We don’t have time to play this morning, young lady.” You poke your fork in her direction as you sit down across from them.

“Eat.” She repeats in a mocking tone, her brother erupting into a fit of giggles at the impression as you sigh. They need to be at the community center in half an hour. You make the job schedules on Friday and you need as much time as possible if you want to finish them in one day. You’re having a hard time focusing on the mess your son is making as he smashes each blueberry down onto the table before popping them into his mouth as you try to schedule your own weekend.

You need to finish all of your work today while the kids are gone so you don’t have to juggle watching them and working later, it shouldn’t be too much of an issue, scheduling should only take a few hours if you really zero in on it. You have dinner with Tommy and Maria tomorrow and you promised to bring dessert so you’ll have to take the kids to the market tonight, which also means you’re going to have to find supplies to barter with before you go.

You have nothing planned on Sunday.

You’ll have to change that.

You hate having nothing to do.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts as a blueberry hits you in the forehead. Both twins laugh now as you frown at them.

��Behave or I’ll tell your aunt that you’ve been bad.” Both children look at each other nervously before returning to their breakfast. You were never stern enough with them. You loved them too much, you couldn’t ever bring yourself to yell at them, and it wasn’t like they were troublemakers by any means, they were just kids with a lot of energy in the mornings. And when they did misbehave a small threat of telling Maria was enough to make them stop whatever it was they were doing.

You finish up your own plate and start getting ready to leave as the kids start giggling again to themselves. When their plates are empty you use a wet washcloth to clean their hands and faces before lifting each of them out of their respective seats, letting them run off a bit more energy before you head out. You set all three bags down in front of the door. Yours being the beige over the shoulder bag accompanied by two little backpacks. Ruth’s green canvas bag is covered in mud and other remnants of the yard that she’s brought in with her but Arthur’s purple backpack is kept neat and tidy. You slip into your coat before turning just in time to watch your son dive into the couch, quickly followed by his sister.

“Come on little ducks. Time for school.” You take their jackets off the hook, holding them out to them as they rush over to you, tugging their own coats on before grabbing their bags, once you pull the door open they both rush out into the cool autumn morning, talking to each other in hushed tones. Always secrets with those two. It would probably make you a little worried if these were normal circumstances, the way they don’t let anyone in except each other, with you being the only exception. But the world is a terrifying place, it brings you peace to know that they have each other.

A part of you is certain you wouldn’t have been able to handle just one.

One little person relying on you, all while you’re doing your best to hold it all together? It sounds like a nightmare. It’s better that they have each other. Once you’re standing outside the community center, busy with parents dropping off their children, you kneel down.

“Be good, if you behave today you can go to the market tonight.” The promise of the market has both of them grinning, showing off the teeth they’ve both recently had grow in. “I love you, I’ll see you in a bit.” You hold open your arms, each of them taking their respective sides as they wrap themselves around you. You take your daughter's face in your hands before pressing a kiss to her forehead, repeating the motion with your son. After a few “love you mama’s” they both run into the building, once you’re sure they’re safe inside you head off in the direction of town hall.

You have what you would call the best job in town, despite the fact that no one else seems to want to do it.

Maria understood when you arrived that you needed something that let you work from home if needed, you needed something that kept your mind busy but also gave you time with the kids. So you took care of the parts of Jackson most didn’t think about.

You document all of the citizens, you make the shift schedules, and you make sure everyone has the necessities. You take care of housing, when big hauls from scavenging come in you divide them up among the people who need them. You make the meal schedules for the dining hall, and you make the crop schedules.

You keep Jackson moving.

When you arrived all of this was Maria’s job along with her other duties, when you told her you wanted something engaging and demanding she was more than willing to pass off those duties to you. So now you’ve got to make the schedule. Town hall is nothing more than a house with several desks for people doing work similar to yours but thankfully you’ve been lucky enough to reserve your own office in one of the bedrooms.

Most Friday's Maria visits you for lunch but you know she’s on patrol currently, another perk of this job is knowing where everyone is, all the time.

No surprises.

You hate surprises. (With a few exceptions.)

One of the exceptions is waiting for you in your office, Tommy sits with his legs up on your desk, reading over this past week's schedule.

“You put me on crop harvest way more than anyone else.” He grumbles, tossing your notebook down.

“It’s the end of the season, everyones on crop harvest.” You lean down, kissing his cheek before taking your place across from him, immediately getting to work as he groans.

“Maria gets to go on patrol.”

“Council gets first dibs on patrols during harvest season.” The tip of your favorite pen is dry so you quickly bring it to your mouth, wetting it with your tongue before you start writing out jobs for this upcoming week. The second he sees how many farming related jobs you’re listing he leans back in his chair, groaning and running his fingers through his dark curls.

Today’s his day off. You always gave anyone doing more manual labor three days off instead of two.

“I can get you on one patrol shift but they’re going to need your help with the corn.” You write his name in with the Monday and Tuesday patrol squad, filling in the rest of his week with harvest as he grins.

“Thank you, darlin’.” He drawls. You hate that nickname, you hate that he isn’t the first to give it to you but you never complain, you’d let Tommy get away with murder at this point. It’s the least you can do considering everything he’s given you.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. You’re only getting a two-day weekend next week.” You mumble, searching through the list of citizens, trying to pick out the people you know won’t mind the hard work.

“Fine by me.” You have a complicated relationship with that smile of his. You can love it all you want but that doesn’t change the fact that it makes you uneasy, it doesn’t help that you’re starting to see that same smile in your son.

“I was thinking about berry cobbler for tomorrow night.” Molly twisted her ankle last week, make sure she isn’t standing. You put her down for shucking corn, she can sit in the dining hall and work.

“We have a bunch of extra sweet potatoes if you want to make sweet potato pie.” He takes your crop ledger, flipping through it, clearly not reading a thing.

“Ruth hates sweet potatoes.” Marcus insists he’s capable of doing manual labor, his pride won’t let him act his age. You put him down for pushing the wheelbarrows, he won’t have to bend down to pick anything up but hopefully he’ll still feel like he’s doing enough. You’ve told him countless times that at his age he shouldn’t be working so hard but he always insists.

“Shit, forgot about that. Maria might have some apples.”

“I’ll stop by tonight before I take the kids to the market.”

You’re thankful for Tommy.

He keeps your mind busy with conversation while you work, and he’s one of the only people you actually trust. By the time you’re almost done you know you need to go get the kids, with a conflicted glance at the clock you start to gather your things but Tommy beats you to it.

“I’ll go get them, Maria should be home from patrol soon, she’ll want to see them.” He’s already putting his coat on so you stay seated.

“Are you sure?” You already know there’s no reason to argue, he’s stubborn, just like his brother.

“It’s the least I can do to make up for bothering you all day.” He steps around the desk to give you a peck on the cheek before going to leave. “Just come by the house when you’re done, no rush.” And just like that he’s gone.

You make quick work of your remaining duties. Finishing everything within a half an hour before heading out in the direction of the Miller’s farm house on the edge of town. It’s only a few houses away from your ranch house, a fact that you couldn’t be more grateful for, if it weren’t for Tommy and Maria you aren’t sure you’d have been able to handle those first few months of parenthood. Most people in town assumed Tommy must be the father purely based on how much effort he put into taking care of not only them, but you as well. As you make your way up their porch steps and into the living room you’re also reminded of the similarities. You can’t blame people for making assumptions, even Maria thought he was the father. The twins have his eyes, (which by association means that they also have his eyes, but you try not to dwell on that.) Ruth has your nose but Arthur has that Miller curve already starting to show on his little nose. Both little ones are sitting in the big recliner with their uncle as he tries to get them to settle down while he reads to them but the second they see you, both are scrambling out of the chair to hug your legs.

And everything goes exactly how it’s supposed to.

(Of course it does, you plan every day down to the minute.)

You give Tommy the list of things you need along with a few things he can trade them for and he takes the kids down the street to the market as you sit at the kitchen counter, talking to Maria about her patrol. You had all planned to go to the market together but she’d insisted she was tired and you didn’t want her to be here alone so you stayed, helping her cook dinner. And you talked about all the things you knew you would, something cute the kids did, how her patrol went, what things you could put on the dining hall menu in the coming weeks.

It’s all exactly how it should be.

Until she frowns.

“Are you busy Sunday?” You had sensed something was wrong with her but you assumed maybe she was just a little rattled coming off of a three day patrol.

“No, did you need something?” You continue to chop up the sweet potatoes she now planned to use tonight instead of tomorrow.

“We found a couple of strays, I thought maybe we could get them settled in.”

Odd.

Normally finding survivors would be the first thing she mentioned after returning, even stranger is the fact that she’d often waste no time getting them supplies and a home to make their own. But you're not one to question Maria’s judgment.

“Sure, we can do that Sunday morning.” You want to ask questions about it but she’s already changed the subject to doing a clothing drive at the community center so you don’t press. Despite the way the look on her face is bothering you.

It wasn’t fear, or discomfort, or something you could explain away with the excuse of the strays being off putting or violent.

It’s a look of pity.

As if she feels bad for even asking.

It unsettles you enough to leave it be. Making idle chit chat with her until Tommy returns with the twins and you take them home. It unsettles you as you make your own dinner, as you give the twins a bath, and as you help them into their pajamas and read them a story. It never leaves your mind.

“Goodnight Ruthie.” You lean down to kiss her forehead, watching her eyes flutter shut as she continues to fight sleep. Always the stubborn one.

“Night Mama.” You take the stuffed bear from the foot of her bed, tucking it in beside her before quietly standing, walking across the room to your son's bed.

“Goodnight Arthur.” You lean down, kissing both of his rosy cheeks, he doesn’t fight sleep the way his sister does. So similar but so different.

“Goodnight Mama.” His little voice has the same southern drawl you know he’s been picking up from Tommy.

“I love you, little ducks.” You smile at him, turning to see that Ruth is already asleep, you tuck in the blankets around Arthur before leaving, keeping the door cracked open a bit so the light from the kitchen can act as a night light.

God, you're tired.

You’re quick to shower and slip into your own pajamas, crawling into bed with a yawn. You take the book from your nightstand, flipping through until you find where you left off yesterday.

You never really know what’s going on in the books you read, they serve a singular purpose and it isn’t entertainment.

You read until you fall asleep, they’re just a distraction to keep your mind busy with thoughts so he can’t sneak in right before you fall asleep and embed himself in your dreams.

It works.

Your dreams never feature him.

They aren’t good dreams by any means, they’re wild. Often of your journey to Jackson, the fear you felt then. But you’ll take that over Joel any day. Tonight isn’t any different, your sleep is restless as you fight the memories of fighting for survival in those woods, but instead of your usual nightmares of infected hunting you through the trees you’re faced with a sight that somehow makes you even more uneasy than the living dead.

The look on Maria’s face when she told you about the two strays.

support me on kofi!!

a/n : this fic has been bouncing around in my brain for months now and it feels so fucking good to finally start it omfg. sorry if this felt a little slow, i really needed to set a tone and a base for the story, sorry!!

#lincolndjarin #fic : every now and then #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou joel #joel tlou #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #tlou fic #joel x reader #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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shebsart · 6 months ago

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Ok I don't wanna be a joykill but I've been seeing a lot of posts about how Sophie made Howl and the Witch get together but that is not true. So I made a rough timeline.

First of all, in order for Sophie's magic hat to work, the Witch or Howl would have to wear it but the first and most likely the only time The Witch visits Sophie's shop is AFTER Howl already jilted her, because she is looking for information about him at this point. She puts a spell on Sophie thinking she is Lettie, whom Suliman-Justin mix(the dog man) cares about. Because he witholds information about Howl from her. (plus the witch has heard sophie works powerful magic so thats two birds one stone)

Second, Howl met the Witch a year before the main events but it doesn't add up with the time Sophie speaks this to the hat:

This is during Sophie is alone at the hat shop after Martha and Lettie left.

Howl later says this(which is hardly a month after May Day):

she says this on May Day:

Sophie has been working at the shop by herself for a few months before May Day, and around a week later she meets the Witch.(she says at least 3 days to around a week has passed after speaking to Martha on May Day)

Anyway here is the rough timeline of the main events:

1. The Witch threatens Princess Valeria, The King sends Suliman to her and he's caught by the Witch (a year prior the main events)

2. A few months later, Howl is possibly looking for Suliman and he meets the Witch in the process:

that's around the same time Howl settles his moving castle on Market Chipping Hills (this is a little while before Sophie's dad dies and the sisters go their seperate ways):

We actually don't knoew when exactly he made the moving castle or why, but if Michael is correct it's after Howl jilts the Witch:

buut Howl doesn't say anything about that so I assume he made it for convenience and to escape the responsibilities of being a good wizard lol but let me know if i'm missing something (to me, the castle phsically moving is only for the appearances, it doesn't actually do any good for running away from anyone. the real trick is the multiple portals and settlements of the castle)

3. around this time Prince Justin goes after Suliman

ok so when justin and count are looking for suliman, sophie is working at the hat shop because count meets jane when she was wearing sophie's hat

4. May Day comes, Sophie meets Howl without knowing it's him.

5. around 7-10 days later, The Witch visits Sophie's shop and puts a spell on her. She leaves the shop and enters Howl's castle on the hills.

6. Her stay at the Castle is around 1,5 months

she enters the castle on lets say 8-9th of May, until Howl's curse comes true on Midsummer's Day (which is mid july)

-Oh and, speaking of a common misconception, Howl didn't buy the guitar to impress girls, he thought it was related to Suliman somehow because it also came from Wales (so did the skull and Suliman). According to Calcifer, he uses it to impress girls but im not sure if that's true entirely:

So when he takes his guitar with him, he is probably looking for Justin and Suliman, maybe he thinks the guitar would help finding them. But probably it also works with the ladies so it doesn't hurt kfdls

-The Witch did curse Howl for jilting her, but she wasn't looking for him only because of that. She wanted his head (the second most powerful wizard next to her most likely) for her frankenstein's monster to rule with her dksl. Same with Suliman. She probably didn't want Mrs. Pentstemmon because she was also old and wasn't much use to her anymore. Or maybe Mrs Pentstemmon wasn't showing any weaknesses to the Witch which made it hard to capture her. not sure

#shes really good at saying things that are true wothout knowing theyre true cjdkde #howl's moving castle #hmc book #diana wynne jones #howl's moving castle book #sheb rereads hmc #hmc

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tomhockstetter7-111 · 2 months ago

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Highest Form of Empathy (Masterlist)

Summary

Growing up an empath was never easy. Seeing what people thought and how they felt about you all the time was more than enough to turn you into a loner. No one got further than arm's length. Thus, came your profession as a therapist. Here, your power could finally be a benefit, at least to someone else.

One night, after a long day at work, you found yourself buzzed on a sangria and speaking to some guy who's name you didn't care enough to ask for. But, his eyes stick with you, almost like deep whirlpools sucking you in. Silently, you agree you could both burn off some steam on each other. But, try as you did to ignore the torment plaguing his mind, it was just too much. You couldn't leave him in that state. Not in good conscience, anyway. You'd take away his pain and give him a break, even if just for the night. Besides, it's not like you would ever see him again.

Not much later, you receive a call from a one Charles Xavier, who claims to be offering you a job as a counselor for the students of his school and as a team member of a government task force. The job seems easy and straightforward enough. At least, it did until you saw them, again, those eyes from the bar.

There's no way this could go well.

Content notes and warnings

Enemies to Lovers

Goal of Weekly Release

Takes place after X2. Movies involved are Origins, X-Men, and X2 (HEAVY SPOILERS). Small bits of First-Class timeline are weaved in. VERY minor lore changes here and there, especially for Remy. All other lore I took outside and crushed under the heel of my New Rocks.

No use of Y/N, Y/L/N, etc.

General Series CW: Drinking, Alcoholism, Angst, Sex, Trauma, Violence and Mentions Of, Mentions of Death

Reader is afab (referred to as “she” in bonus chapters)

Main series

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Bonus Chapters (Not beta read or peer edited)

Chapter 1.5 (Logan)

Chapter 4.5 (Logan)

Chapter 10.5 (Logan)

Chapter 14.5 (Logan)

Chapter 19.5 (Logan)

Feel free to request bonus chapters

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jadeshifting · 1 month ago

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— THERE ARE PLENTY OF FATES WORSE THAN YOURS

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

alright, listen up, and let’s get one thing straight—you’re sitting on a goldmine of potential. you’ve unlocked the secrets of the universe, and yeah, it may take patience, but that’s nothing compared to being stuck in the mundane grind of never knowing or accepting the truths of our universe. let’s talk about Supernatural, specifically Season 4, Episode 17—because Dean Winchester learned a lesson you could stand to hear, so stick with me

most of us walk around complaining about how hard it is to shift, like we’re starring in some cosmic pity party. but guess what? there are plenty of fates worse than yours, and it’s time to put some respect on your ability to shift and your role in the grand scheme. buckle up, buttercup. it’s about to get real

★⋆. — “MOST PEOPLE LIVE AND DIE WITHOUT MOVING ANYTHING MORE THAN THE DIRT IT TAKES TO BURY THEM”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

in this particular (EXTREMELY shifting-coded) episode of Supernatural, Dean is feeling sorry for himself and the fact that he has to save the world—to teach him a lesson, he’s forced into an office job. Dean hated that office job. you could see the light leaving his eyes with every soul-crushing task. he wasn’t built for spreadsheets and watercooler chat. and you? you weren’t built to stay locked in just one version of existence either. the archangel’s lesson hit hard: most people live their whole lives without ever realizing there’s more out there.

think about it. billions of people out here just existing, tethered to their routine, their one-and-only timeline, their same-old, same-old. they’re not reaching for alternate realities, parallel worlds, or dream lives. you, though? you know what else is possible. shifting means you’re not just sitting back and accepting the cards you’re dealt. you’re taking the entire deck and shuffling it until it deals you a royal flush.

if you ever find yourself whining about how hard it is to shift, remember this: you’re already ahead of the game. you’ve got the keys to the multiverse in your back pocket. don’t waste time complaining when you could be making it happen right now.

★⋆. — “ARE YOU READY TO STAND UP AND BE WHO YOU REALLY ARE?”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

here’s the tea: shifting isn’t about sitting in your CR feeling sorry for yourself because you haven’t woken up in Hogwarts or a beachside villa in your DR yet. it’s about stepping into your power and deciding that you have. Dean had to face his destiny head-on, even when it scared him. and shifting is no different—it’s your call to make it happen

let’s be real. the process can be frustrating. you’ve been told over and over again that you need the affirmations, the visualizations, the rituals—that it all takes time. but every time you accept the idea that you have to work to earn this ‘prize’ (WRONG) and roll your eyes at the effort, ask yourself this: are you ready to be the main character in your own story? are you ready to open your eyes to your dream life and embrace the infinite possibilities waiting for you?

your DR self isn’t some far-off stranger living in some far away world—it’s you, in a different form, living the life you’ve dreamed of. so, what’s stopping you from standing up and saying, “i’m her, i’m there”? spoiler: it’s usually your own excuses and fear of failure. drop them like they’re hot

★⋆. — “FOR GOD’S SAKE, QUIT WHINING ABOUT IT”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

(technically the words of Archangel Gabriel from Supernatural. i wouldn’t generally be so rude, but the message is all the same.) Dean needed that tough love. and honestly? so do you. while shifting is a natural process, something everyone’s born with the right to do, knowing about shifting is a privilege. let me repeat that louder for the people in the back: knowing about shifting is a privilege

you’re out here rolling your eyes at the time it takes to meditate or how you can’t hold focus during visualization. meanwhile, there are folks who’ve never even heard of shifting, who don’t know they could rewrite their own story with a snap of their fingers !! what the fuck, right !!

every time you catch yourself moaning about ‘how hard it is to shift’, use my newly invented technique of imagining Dean Winchester (or literally anyone you prefer, really) sitting across from you, scowling and saying, ��for God’s sake, quit whining about it.” because he’s right. every moment spent wallowing is a moment you could be aware of your DR, if you put that negative energy into deciding it for yourself. plenty would argue that the struggle, despite being an unnecessary product of overcomplication and misinformation, is part of the journey, and even that it makes success that much sweeter

★⋆. — “THERE ARE PLENTY OF FATES WORSE THAN YOURS”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

this is the kicker. while you’re griping about not waking up in your DR, remember there are much, much worse things than waking up in your CR again

picture this: never knowing about shifting at all. never realizing you could step into any of infinite worlds where magic is real, where your favorite characters are your friends, where you’re the rightful star of every storyline, and you step into all of your desires as easy as breathing. that’s the true tragedy—not failing, but never trying. never even knowing to try

Dean learned that even when the stakes are high, it’s better to face the challenge than to live a life devoid of purpose. and for you, it’s better to keep working toward shifting than to settle for the status quo of your CR. you’ve been given the tools to break free. use them.

★⋆. — FINDING GRATITUDE ON YOUR PATH

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

everyone has dark moments—doubt, frustration, or even downright hopelessness. i’m not detracting from those feelings—they’re valid, and i get them too. but i implore you to, if nothing else, appreciate your journey so far. find beauty in your meditative moments, truly enjoy the excitement of scripting, and the anticipation of waking up in a new reality

when you start to feel frustrated, remember this: every affirmation, every visualization, every late-night meditation is a step closer to the life you already have, and just have to become aware of. and the fact that you even know about shifting? that’s a gift. gratitude for that isn’t just a nice thought or a pointless platitude—it can be the fuel that keeps you going

★⋆. — THE BOTTOM LINE: BE DEAN, NOT A DESK JOB

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

Dean’s lesson in that office job was clear: stop taking your path for granted. he might’ve hated the apocalypse gig, but it was better than the alternative—living a mundane life without meaning. and for you, the same truth applies

don’t complain about the perceived struggles of shifting when you’re one of the lucky ones who knows it’s possible. you’ve got the knowledge, the key to live a life beyond imagination. so for God’s sake, quit complaining about it, buckle down, and make it happen. because there are plenty of fates worse than yours—and staying stuck in your CR isn’t one you want to settle for

#shifting motivation #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting antis dni #hogwarts dr #shifting to hogwarts #shifting blog #shifters #shifting script #hogwarts scripting #shiftinconsciousness #shift #shifting consciousness #shifting realities #shifting #shifting community #shifting to harry potter #shifting diary

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beingsuneone · 1 year ago

Text

Memories & Delusions

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

SYNOPSIS: Jason Todd is dead, you have to remember that; even if the newest villain in town is both incredibly sexy and reminds you of the boy you used to love.

FANDOM: DC

PAIRING(S): Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

RATING: PG

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Tim

GENRE/AU: fluff, different timeline AU (not mentioned in detail but the timeline is different than canon), canon divergence, reader is kind of like Stephanie so NOT Bruce’s kids but she does live in the manor.

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

WARNINGS: Swearing, mentions of blood and injuries.

A/N: I could fs do a part two to this ;)

DEDICATIONS: Myself for having this idea for more than two years and finally getting it out in writing in some way

CREDITS: N/A

“Jesus Christ! Who the fuck is this guy, Batman?” You exclaim, panting hard through your mask; whoever this Red Hood guy is… he really knows your team's weaknesses. It’s disconcerting.

Weirdly enough, he’s left you mostly alone.

Bruce shrugs from across the room. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

It’s a blur of movement as Red Hood tries to attack mostly Bruce, only attacking Dick or you if you get in the way.

He’s said almost nothing since this fight started.

After a few minutes, Bruce sends a signal and jumps out of the half destroyed building; Dick follows and jumps out shortly after.

Leaving just you and Gothams latest criminal.

You’re about to turn to jump again, when suddenly your wrist is caught in Red Hood’s hand.

The familiarity of it makes you gasp and freeze.

He stares down at you, intimidating and silent through his red helmet.

Returning his stare, with as much fiery energy as you can muster, you try to pull your wrist away; His grip is like iron and you can’t.

“Don’t get in my way, Y/n.” He says, making your heart drop with the use of your civilian name. “I won’t choose between you and my goal.”

Your back is rigid and you’re breathing has stopped… if he knows your name, that means he probably knows everyone else’s too.

Fuck.

He finally lets go, brushing past your stiff body.

You’re too shocked to follow him.

….

“He knew my name, Bruce!” You say, feeling panicked. “Do you know what that means?”

Bruce nods curtly. “It means you aren’t suiting up until we’ve taken him down.” You try to protest but Bruce holds a hand up to cut you off. “It’s not up for discussion.”

You fidget with the small red pendant hanging around your neck, something you do whenever you’re feeling too many emotions.

It reminds you of Jason, the first boy you’ve ever been in love with and also the last; Jason was also Bruce’s second adopted son.

Jason Todd died five years ago.

But when he was alive… There was something special about him. He was always so eager to help Bruce by being robin.

That was back before you had your own suit; really, you’d only gotten a superhero identity so you could hunt down the joker and get revenge for Jason, but Bruce had managed to convince you not to do that in the last five years.

Probably for the best, even if seventeen is too young for someone to die; even if having a strong bond ripped away from you before it could become anything still hurt so badly.

You follow Bruce down into the batcave. “What do we know about Red Hood? Do we have any idea how he originated? It seems like he just popped out of nowhere.”

Bruce contemplates his answer as he unlocks the bat computer. “All we know is that he would have had to fly under our radar for months in order to take over the whole underground drug ring.”

You over hover his shoulder, trying to see what’s on the screen below him. “I don’t understand how we wouldn’t hear anything about him? With that many people who work for him, you’d think one of them would mention something.”

He hums in response. “They must be terrified of him.”

Alfred inserts himself into the conversation and ushers you back into the main part of the manor. “Alright, Miss. Y/n, You’re officially off duty indefinitely.” He pauses. “Like Master Bruce said, it is safer if you disconnect yourself from your hero identity.”

You frown. “If he knows my real name, he probably knows where I live.”

“He also told you, quote ‘don’t get in my way’ end quote.” Alfred tuts. “He clearly has no intention of hurting you as a civilian.”

You huff and head up to your bedroom, feeling like you really need to be out there but not really knowing why.

You suppose you don’t know what to do with your time anymore, now that you’ve been superhero-ing for so long.

When was the last time you read a book? Or watched a movie, just because you wanted to? It’s been too long…

Your bookshelves mostly carry decorative encyclopedias and other books that would bore you to sleep, so you leave your room and head just down the hallway.

The door creaks as you push open and clicks when you push it shut; then, you’re left in the silence of Jason Todd’s bedroom. Unchanged and untouched from the last moment he was in here.

It’s a little messy but nothing out of the ordinary for a teenage boy; the bed was never made, and his clothes were ever put in his drawers despite them being washed.

There’s books pulled out and just scattered in places, schoolbooks, comic books, novels… finally you spot what you wanted to find.

It’s a very old and very worn copy of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, something the two of you used to read together when you’d sneak onto the roof of the manor at nighttime.

You’d watch the stars and one of you would read the book out loud, until eventually you both would pass out and give Bruce a heart attack the next morning.

Maybe it was time to revisit that tradition, even if you were only reading to yourself.

Bruce and Alfred are in the Cave so you find your way into the roof and lay back. The shingles are definitely more uncomfortable without Jason to lay on, but it’s still a nice feeling nonetheless.

Just the act of laying under the stars with that book in your hands, makes you feel a kind of warmth that you haven’t felt in years.

You close your eyes and take a long, deep breath of night air; It’s fresh and ever so slightly damp, but in a way that makes you feel nice. The cold nips at your body in all the right ways.

Unfortunately, all bliss is momentary, and someone clearing their throat makes you jump a couple centimeters upwards.

You’re met with the bright red helmet of Red Hood.

“Pride and Prejudice, huh?” He says casually, though you're pretty sure he has a voice changer on, which makes his voice sound more irritated than it probably is.

You back up a few inches. “Bru-” Red Hood slaps a hand over your mouth before you can finish yelling for help.

You squirm in his grip, but he just maneuvers you so that your back is to his chest and you can barely move which makes your body lock up again— you can’t help the feeling of familiarity that settles in your stomach, or the way your body reacts to his.

Worst of all, he smells just like… no, it must just be where you are.

Jason Todd is dead.

And yet.

“Relax, Y/n, I’m not here to hurt you.” Something about him makes you listen and you relax your body. He kind of half-scoffs in response. “Are you done?”

You nod as best you can. He releases you.

“Who— why are you here?” You say, trying to ignore the fact that everything about this masked man reminds you of Jason.

Your chest rises and falls irregularly as he stares at you.

His head snaps away randomly. “Why should I tell you that?”

“Don’t answer my question with a question.”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”

There’s a look of defiance shared between the two of you, or, at least, on your end. You can’t actually see his face so you’re really just assuming.

You spin away and blow out a labored breath. “God, I must be going insane…” Even the way he talks with you sounds like Jason.

“You’re so short, you look like a bunny who lost its carrot.” He says with a laugh.

“I do not!” You exclaim angrily, your mouth dropping open. “Okay, that’s it, I’m calling Bruce.” Your hand slips into your pocket to pull out your phone, and just as it's out of your pocket, Red Hood grabs your wrist; he traps it in one spot and yanks the phone from your hand.

He gently sets it on the ground. “Tell that fucker whatever you want, but wait until I’m gone.” The tone in his voice sends a chill down your spine. He seems so angry…

With that, he leaves, taken the same way that you took off the roof.

You stand there until you hear the roar of his motorbike, and then you finally retreat from the roof with the book clutched tightly to your chest.

…..

“I’m going with you, Bruce. You can’t stop me.” You say, already moving to try to grab your suit.

“No, you’re not.” He says sternly, blocking your path. “You need to stay out of this fight.”

You raise your eyebrows in challenge. “I’m going whether you let me wear that suit or not.” Bruce apparently doesn’t like this because he frowns even harder than before. You continue, “You can’t go alone. Dick is out of town and Tim is at school. Let me come.”

“You forget I did this by myself for quite a while before I adopted Dick.” He says firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Bruce doesn’t need your help, you know that; helping him isn’t your real goal.

Ever since the rooftop incident with Red Hood you’d gone into some sort of obsessive spiral over his similarities to Jason.

You feel like you need to talk to him again, touch him again… just to see why he’s so familiar; you feel insane.

The deepest parts of your brain scream at you that it’s not just similarities, that he really is Jason but… he can’t be; you watched them bury Jason’s body.

“There’s something else going on with you.” Bruce says, basically sizing you up.

You stiffen, which unfortunately gives away your next lie. “There’s nothing going on with me.” No excuse comes to mind so you don’t say anything more.

Bruce pauses for a beat.

“This has nothing to do with Red Hood.”

“Okay? Why would that matter?” You say dismissively, but also way too fast. “I don’t think keeping me locked up at home helps anyone.”

He sighs and finally caves. “Fine, you can come.”

…..

You aren’t sure how this situation devolved so quickly, but your communications got cut off a while ago and you haven’t been able to find Bruce or navigate very well through the rubble.

You’re bleeding heavily from a few different cuts and you’re pretty sure you sprained your ankle.

The faint cackle of the Joker makes you dive under a fallen piece of concrete, because if he comes this way he’ll surely kill you.

But the laugh recedes so you crawl out and sit against it instead.

You’re just about to start sobbing from the pain when you hear footsteps again; you go silent and try to move but you don't allow that.

You see a flash of red, and then Red Hood turns a corner into your line of sight.

“Christ’s sake, Y/n.” He mumbles. “What happened?” He approaches and drops down so he’s sitting on his feet, he stares for a moment, and you assume he’s assessing your injuries.

“You can’t call me that— here.” You hiss when he presses a finger against your ankle.

He stands up and takes both your hands, completely ignoring what you said. “Up. But don’t stand on your bad ankle.”

You grip his hands and stand up, holding your bad ankle in the air; Red Hood scoops you up bridal style not a moment later.

You squeal. “What are you doing?”

He stops walking and turns the face of his helmet directly toward you. “I’m taking you back to my base so I can help you get fixed up.” He interrupts you before you can speak, answering the question you were going to ask. “Batman isn’t here anymore, he went to follow after the Joker.”

It’s a rough walk to his bike, and it lasts for about ten minutes; ten awkward minutes of you being carried by Red Hood.

Red Hood who’s supposed to be a criminal and your enemy. Red Hood who brings you more comfort than he should just because of who he reminds you of.

He settles you onto the bike, pulling out an extra helmet before he speeds off.

…..

“Jesus, you sprained your ankle really badly.” He curses, performing whatever medical procedures as you hiss and whine at the pain.

He’s already stitched and/or dressed any of the open wounds you had and he saved the worst for last.

“Okay,” he says absent-mindedly. “I can’t do this properly with this thing.”

He reaches for his helmet but you stop him. “You’re taking your helmet off?”

He hesitates, then nods slowly. “I have to. If you don’t want to see, then shut your eyes until I’m done.”

You nod and squeeze your eyes shut.

He sighs softly and gets back to working on your ankle.

…..

“I swear to god, Bruce, it’s him. Red Hood is Jason.” You say, purposfully making your voice flat and void of emotion. “He has to be.”

Bruce just stares.

And stares.

Sympathetically, softly. But he stares.

“Jason has been dead for a long time, Y/n, and you know that.”

“No— I know, but he can’t be— that has to be him.” You back up into one of the chairs in the batcave, trying to calm your racing heart; you still try to keep a calm outward facade.

“What makes you think he’s Jason?” Bruce asks.

You weakly gesture at nothing with your hand. “Just look at him. He’s— everything about him is the same.”

Tim snorts from the computer. “The running drug rings and murders?”

“Not appropriate, Tim.” Dick says flatly and Tim’s face falls quickly.

You don’t blame him, you probably would have made a joke like that too.

Shaking your head, you stare at the floor past Bruce. “They sound the same, they talk the same way, they look similar— hell, they even smell the same.”

Bruce’s brows furrow. “How do you know what he smells like?”

“Uh…” you stall. “You know, close combat.”

Apparently, he drops it even though he clearly doesn’t believe you, because he asks another question. “We’ve never seen Red Hood unmasked, how do you know they look similar?”

You shrug. “They just do. There’s just something about him. I haven’t been able to shake the feeling for a while.”

It’s silent again for several long moments.

Then Bruce shakes his head absentmindedly.

“Jason is dead, Y/n. No matter how much we miss him, he can’t come back.”

But he’s wrong, he has to be.

Because no one is that similar to someone. You’re sure of it.

……

Your cheeks are wet and your eyes are starting to become raw from you rubbing at them.

Sobbing pathetically on the rooftop of the manor because you had to be reminded about a death that happened a long time ago is not the highlight of your day.

It’s stupid, going from sure of yourself, to telling yourself you’re so stupid for ever thinking it could be true in the first place.

There’s footsteps beside you, but you don’t look up. You don’t care enough to see who it is.

You fidget with the necklace around your neck as you sniffle into your knees.

Something clicks and then hisses as if air pressure is being released before you hear a tiny thud, and then someone pulls you into them.

You know who it is now.

“What’s wrong?” He asks quietly. You know you could look up and confirm your suspicions at any moment but you just can’t bring yourself to do it.

It’s not true, after all, because it can’t be. It’s not possible.

You shrug against him. “I’m reopening old wounds for no reason.” You pause. “Why do you trust me?”

He’s silent, contemplative for a while. “You’re you.”

You laugh dryly. “That doesn’t explain anything.”

“You haven’t even bothered to look have you?” His hand strokes lines in your hair. “You could. I don’t think I’d mind.”

“I don’t want to know.” You say, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m not ready for that.”

He nods, you can feel the movement through his body, even though it’s subtle.

You sit, wrapped up in his arms for a long while before he clears his throat softly and asks, “what old wounds have you been reopening?”

Your eyes well again, but you choke back the tears. “An old… friend, I guess. He died.” You start to pull back but you don’t look at his face.

Instead, you bury your face in your hands again. He lets you pull back. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

You shrug. “It was a long time ago, he just meant a lot to me— and it’s really hard because you remind me so much of him.”

He makes a sort of strangled sound and then clears his throat again but more rough this time. “Why do you say that?”

His voice sounds even more similar without the helmet and voice changer. This man is going to be the death of you. Maybe literally. “I don’t… I don’t know. It’s just everything.” You shake your head and laugh sardonically. “It’s driving me insane.”

“How did he die?” His voice is darker than before, and there’s a sort of undertone you can’t place.

“Brutally.” You stop, take a deep breath, and offer only a bit more context. “The Joker.”

He hums. “The Joker‘s alive and ruling this dumb city.” He pauses. “How do you think your friend would feel about that?”

“Probably about the same as I do. Sick.” You run a hand through your hair, purposefully trying to avoid seeing his face. “That’s why I became a hero, you know. I wanted to kill the joker because he killed Ja- um, my friend.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“People stopped me before I did something I couldn’t come back from.” You say, wrapping your arms around your legs. “I hope the joker suffers a terrible death, but I don’t think it should be by my hands. He wins if I spend the rest of my existence regretting it.”

Red Hood picks up his helmet and clicks it back on. “Right.” He stands and stares down at you. “I have to leave now.”

You shudder at his sudden coldness, and stand abruptly. “Okay, I— um, goodbye…?” You want to smack yourself at how unsure you sound. “Did I say something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “I just don’t know why you would ever regret ridding the world of someone like The Joker, that’s all.”

Stiffly, you nod and wipe your hands on your pants.

“Sorry about your friend.” He finishes, before leaving you alone on the roof again. “Too bad I didn’t know him.”

Basically, crushing any hopes you might’ve had that he was Jason.

……

This is an atrociously stupid idea, you know; driving directly into the den of Gotham's biggest drug lord is the smartest thing to do.

But Gotham's biggest drug lord is Red Hood, and you’re fairly sure he won’t hurt you. Mostly.

His lackeys though, don’t seem so forgiving.

“Who the hell are you?” The man who barks the question at you, is raggedy looking and has the worst, most distasteful tattoos you’ve seen in your life.

“I’m here to see Red Hood.” You amend quickly, “I’m a friend of his.”

“Yeah, right.” The other guard says, a bulky looking woman who is also insanely beautiful… unsettlingly so. “A fragile little thing like you, friends with our boss… please.”

You scoff. “Trust me, I’m not fragile.” Stopping, you contemplate whether it’s a good idea to start something, considering your ankle is still healing. “Just call him.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine, whatever.”

An old phone hangs on the wall and she picks up the receiver and quickly dials a number. “Hey, I have a woman here who says she’s the bosses friend— her name? I have no clue— Oi, what’s your name?” The woman barks at you.

“Y/n.”

“Her name’s Y/n.” She’s silent for a minute while we all wait, then she hangs up the phone aggressively and yanks your arm into her grip. “Lucky. Let’s go.”

The corridors are a bit confusing to navigate, but you’re mostly just following the woman, who seems very familiar with them.

After ten minutes you reach a door, it matches almost every other door, but it has ‘boss’ written crudely on it in spray paint.

“You’re on your own from here.” She says gruffly before stomping away.

You take a moment to collect yourself before you knock, and the door swings open before you can even finish knocking.

“Why are you here?” Red Hood sounds breathless behind his mask, as if something winded him. “How did you remember how to get here?”

“I’m… actually not sure.” You chuckle quietly to yourself as Red Hood pulls you inside.

He sits down at a desk after pulling a chair out for you to sit in. “Again, why are you here?”

Your heart seizes for a moment as if the reason why you’re here hit you all over again. “I want you to show me who you are.”

“Are you sure?” Red Hood questions slowly, his body locking up. “You’re not going to like it.”

You nod curtly. “Yes, I need to know.”

He takes a deep breath and stands up, coming right up close to you. Far enough that you could see his face clearly but close enough to have your knees buckling.

He reaches up and presses a button you can’t see. The helmet hisses and opens, he pulls it off.

And your jaw drops.

Standing there, in grown up glory, black hair, green eyes that used to kill you, is Jason Fucking Todd.

“You’re— You’re not— dead.” You stammer, almost reaching out to touch him before you yank your hand back.

You’re so irrationally angry and also relieved and devastated all at the same time.

Jason sets the helmet down. You can’t decide whether to hug him and never let go or slap him for waiting so long to tell you. “That’s a… complicated story.” He pauses. “I promise I’ll tell you that story but I just— can’t get into that right now.”

You nod slowly. “Okay… that means I can get fucking pissed now.”

You’ve clearly confused him when you wrap your hands around his waist and squeeze tightly while also cursing him out. “I can’t believe you waited this long to show me.”

You can see the smart-ass comment on the tip of his tongue but he bites it back. “I knew you’d find out eventually.” His eyes caress your body and there’s a look of longing lingering in his eyes; he seems to be contemplating something. “Fuck it, I’ve been waiting too long to do this.”

You barely have time to react as Jason lowers his face down to yours and kisses you; As soon as you realize what he’s doing, you kiss back.

His hands go to rest on your hips, as you slowly get pushed back into his desk behind you. When you hit the ledge of if, Jason lifts you onto its surface, and pulls back.

“I’ve wanted to do that since we were kids.” He says quietly.

You gently touch your lips, almost in disbelief. “I’ve been wanting you to do that since we were kids.”

All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.

#dc #dc x reader #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #batfam x reader #batfam x y/n #batfam x you #red hood #red hood x reader #redhood x reader #redhood #dc universe

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she-wolf09231982 · 8 months ago

Text

Joe Toye

“The Bunny and The Fox”

Summary: You thought Joe Toye was too scary to even consider a friend, but he proves to be not only a great friend, but also a lover.

A/N: One shot, Mature audience, JoeToyeX!FemMedic, WW2, Female Pronouns, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Womanizing Comments, Military and Medical Terminology, Inappropriate Nicknames, HBO Band of Brothers References, Mentions/Descriptions of Injuries, Weaponry, Smoking. Angst/Conflict, Smut, *John Wayne/McClintock Movie Quote*, FOREVER FLUFF

@awaterfalls 😁🪖♠️🦅❤️

These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real soldiers the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*

~~~~~~~

He always appeared so….serious. His face in a constant state of pissed off and disdain. If looks could kill, Joe Toye (and Johnny Martin) wouldn’t have needed weapons in the war.

You avoided him all through Toccoa. He just seemed like the type to leave the hell alone. But every now and then, you caught a glimpse of him smiling or laughing with the guys.

“Not bad.” You’d think to yourself as you admired his smile.

Since you trained with Easy as a medic, you rarely had an excuse to speak to him unless he was injured. Even then you kept your conversation short and sweet with hardly any eye contact. But with his low raspy voice came a sense of calm while you took care of him. You supposed he seemed friendly enough.

~~~~~~

June 1944 Post D-Day

Orders were given to take Carentan where German soldiers were being sheltered. Carentan was the main crossroad between Cotentin and Calvados where the ally force's tanks needed passage to attack the main objective, Cherbourg.

"Listen up!" LT Welsh shouted. "It'll be dark soon. I want light and noise discipline from here on. No talking, no smoking. And no playing grab-fanny with the man in front of you, Luz. We're taking Carentan. It's the only place where armor from Omaha and Utah Beach can link up and head inland. Until we take Carentan, they're stuck on the sand. General Taylor's sending the whole division."

Some of the men began to grumble under their breath. Everyone started to stir to gather their gear to begin the journey to Carentan.

Walking in a file formation on each side of the road to Carentan. You found yourself walking in front of Toye as Perconte proceeded you.

“Hey Toye, why you always in the middle when we convoy anywhere? Ain’t you ever in the front?” Guarnere teased.

“I go wherever the medic goes in case I get hit, Bill.” Joe responded.

You blushed and dared to sneak a glance behind you. As you did, Toye met your gaze shooting you a quick wink. You quickly look back to the front embarrassed he caught you acknowledging him.

“Awe now look what ya did. You scared her.” Guarnere teased.

You hear some of the guys laugh.

“Maintain your noise discipline.” Winters reminded.

~~~~~~~

"MEDIC!!"

You and Doc on separate ends of the streets trying to keep low to tend to the wounded.

You rush to two soldiers landing on your knees next to them, one on the ground with a trail of blood coming from his helmet, the other crouching over him.

"He's still breathing, help me carry him!" You call out. You each grab an arm of the injured soldier and drag him behind a building.

While you're working on the nameless soldier's head wound, a drug store gets blasted by German artillery not far from where you were, the force from the explosion sending you sideways into the brick wall next to you.

You shake your head to stop the ringing in your ears. Everything you could hear was distant as your vision became fuzzy and dark. You start to smack your ear trying to make it pop so you can get back to your senses.

“Y/L/N! We gotta move! Get up!” Toye’s muffled voice yelled out.

He grabbed you by the arm pulling you up to your feet. You still couldn’t barely see so you held onto his arms for dear life.

“I-I can’t see nothin’ Joe!” You called out to him.

“Ok, come on…UP we go!” You hear him grunt as he threw you over his shoulder.

You feel him trotting to safety while blast after blast erupted all around you. You feel him lower you as gently as he could to the ground against a wall.

“Hey, look at me.” Toye said as he guided your face towards his, “Can you see me now?”

You shake your head, “No, it’s all dark and blurry.” You reply as tears started to stream down your cheeks.

Were you going blind?? Is this it? You’re not going to be able to see your family’s faces? Never see your own reflection? You feel yourself slipping into shock.

“Hey! Stay with me now, ok doll? Don’t cry. Doc’s on his way.” You hear Toye’s voice break through your thoughts.

Doc ducked behind the wall with you and Toye.

“What’s the matta’ with her?” You hear Gene ask.

“She can’t see. Says everything is blurry.”

“Gene, I think I’m going blind. Am I going blind??” You asked panicked trying to reach out for him.

“What happened before she couldn’t see?”

“A shell dropped right by her and she went flying into a brick wall.”

Gene nodded, “That’ll do it. You got a concussion, Y/L/N, you ain’t goin’ blind.”

You released a sigh of relief.

“Joe, can you get her back to HQ? She ain’t no good out here if she can’t see nothin’.”

“I got her, Doc.”

~~~~~~~

Toye got you back to an aid station not long after Easy Company claimed victory over Carentan. You remained there until the following day after your vision returned. As you approached a group of the guys from Easy, you were welcomed with whoops and cheers.

“Hey! Look who it is!” Luz called out.

All the guys turned to find you walking towards them.

“Hey look what the cat dragged in!” Malarkey joked.

The chorus of laughter from the men lifted your spirits.

“Yeah, I look rough, I know. Thanks guys.” You greet.

You looked around for Toye.

“He’s over there.” Luz pointed out as he gestured with is thumb over his shoulder.

“Oh, I just, uh, wanted to thank him for-“ you began.

“-yeah, yeah we know. He’s over there.” Malarkey interjected pointing down the street.

You feel yourself get flustered so you scamper off to where they said Joe was. As you walk through the rubble that Carentan has become, you see Toye standing in a circle with a few of the other guys from Easy. He throws his cigarette butt on the ground, stomping it out with his boot before he turns and sees you.

His face lights up when he saw you walking up.

“Hey there she is!” Guarnere hailed.

Bill met you and extended his hand for you to shake, which you obliged.

“Good to see you, Bill.”

“Glad to see you up and about, doll.” He pulled you in closer, “Someone’s been real worried about you since they left you at the aid station, by the way.” He disclosed.

You pull back and met Bill’s face with confusion. He winked and motioned over to Toye with his chin.

“Go on and say hi to him.” Bill added.

You narrow your eyes at him and smile. You slowly approach Toye as he stood there with his hands in his pockets and smirking as he patiently waited for you.

“Hey, Toye.” You squeak.

“Hey, Y/L/N. Good to see you.” He replied with his signature husky voice.

“Well, if it weren’t for you, I probably wouldn’t be here. Thank you for helping me.” You say as you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

You hear Guarnere whistle. You turn around and shake your head at him.

Toye cleared his throat, “It was nothin’.”

You both stood there awkwardly until Bill came over.

“Hey, the guys were going to go to the bar that survived the wreck. You wanna join us later for a few night caps, Y/L/N?”

“Sure, if I can find a place to get cleaned up.”

“Ok it’s that little place over there. We’ll all be there around 1900, aight?”

You knew Bill was scheming something for you and Toye. You look at him suspiciously.

“Ok, I’ll see you guys there later.”

~~~~~~~

You breeze through the front door of the pub and begin scanning the room for the familiar faces of Easy.

“Hey! Y/F/N! Over here!” Guarnere called out waving his hand.

You push through the crowd to get to the table where most of your guys were sitting. You catch Toye playing darts with LT Compton, Luz, and Heffron.

“What can I getchya?” Bill asked.

“Oh, whatever you’re drinking, Bill.” You reply.

“Comin’ right up.” He announced as he walked to the bar.

You look back to Toye and catch his eyes looking at you too. He smiled and raised his glass to you with a wink. You smile back and give him a little wave.

“Here ya go.” Bill returned handing you a pint glass of beer.

You cheers and take a hearty gulp.

“Thanks, Bill.” You say as you squeeze his arm.

~~~~~~~

The night was filled with laughter, banter, and taunts amongst Easy. And somehow, your glass kept getting magically refilled by each of the guys. You had to refuse Malarkey’s offer to buy your next round because you felt your head starting to spin.

“Ok, we’ll slow down.” Don chuckled, “But when you’re ready, I got the next one!”

“Yessir.” You quipped.

You turn towards the dart boards and see that Toye had moved. You began to search the room for him and suddenly stop at the bar where he was talking to a local woman dressed in a tightly fit dress.

You felt a distinct sense of dread mixed with anger, but you weren’t sure why. The longer you watched Toye leaning closer to whisper in her ear while she giggled, the more your rage boiled over inside.

“What’s the matter, doll? You gotta look on ya like you’re gonna murder someone.” You hear Guarnere chime in.

You avert your eyes to the floor.

“It’s nothing.” You say quickly.

Bill looked where you were just looking.

“Well ain’t that a son of a bitch. After all the trouble I went through to set you’s guys up, he goes and finds another bird to chat up.”

You look at Bill, “What do you mean set us up?”

Bill looked at you alarmed.

“Oh, well, I thought you knew. Toye over there has got it real bad for ya. Has ever since basic but he figured he never had a chance. I told him you were a catch and that you had a thing for him too.”

“Oh do I now?” You asked astounded by his response.

“Well, don’tchya?”

“I suppose he’s handsome. Good soldier. But looks like he’s not as sweet on me as you think.” You state as you gesture to Toye by the bar getting disgustingly close to the blonde bombshell.

“Ah, he’s an idiot. He’s just trying to get laid.”

You look at him with daggers behind your eyes. Bill’s eyes widen.

“Uh, what I mean is he don’t care about her, ya know? He’s trying to not think about you because he thinks you’re outta his league.” Bill hastily explained.

“Yeah? Well, I’ll get his attention.” You declare as you storm off towards the bar.

“Ah shit.” Bill mumbled to himself rolling his eyes.

You walk up to a soldier from Fox Company standing a few feet away from where Toye was with his new little friend. You approach the bar and slightly bend over to the surface of the bar and rest your elbows on it. The soldier noticed you right away and a devilish grin appeared across his face.

You look over at him and smile.

“Hey, angel, you’re the prettiest face in here.” He said as he scanned you from head to toe.

You see Toye look over the blonde’s shoulder at you. So you inched closer to the stranger.

“At least someone noticed how hard I worked on my make up tonight.” You say loud enough for Joe to hear.

Toye’s jaw started to tighten. Your plan was working like a charm.

“What are you talkin’ about? You’re a dish!” He returned enthusiastically, “Can I get you a drink?”

“A pint is fine.”

Toye excused himself from the company of his little vixen and approached you with obvious vigor. He stopped so close to you, you can feel his breath on your face.

“You think you should have anymore?” Toye asked in a low gravelly tone.

You were almost a puddle at his feet.

“What’s one more?” You dismiss.

“Hey, buddy, this one’s mine. Get lost.” The Fox soldier warned.

Toye glared at him, a clear warning with his fierce gaze to back off. “Shut up.”

He turned back to you. “You hit your head hard yesterday. You got a concussion, remember? Drinking too much isn’t good for you right now.” He cautioned.

The soldier behind Toye huffed outloud. You bring your face closer to his.

“How about you go on back to your little blonde bunny over there and worry about her?” You say softly staring intensely into his eyes.

You snidely smile and gently push him aside to accept the beer the Fox soldier was holding for you. Toye grabbed your wrist before you could get your fingers around the glass.

“Because I’m worried about you.” He sternly replied.

“Hey, pal, I’m not gonna tell ya-“

Before the guy could finish his sentence, Toye swung and punched him across the face sending him to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

“Joe, what the hell is the matter with you?” You bark.

He turned to face you, his teeth clenched and resentment in his eyes.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? You got my attention.” He said raising his arms to the side.

Just then, another Fox Company soldier soared in and tackled Toye. When Guarnere saw Toye get sacked, him and the rest of Easy rushed in, clashing with Fox Company in a battle royalé in the middle of the dance floor.

You grab a bottle of whiskey and force your way into the horde to smash it over the head of one of the opposing soldiers when you suddenly feel your feet swiftly leave the floor, and you find yourself once again thrown over Joe Toye’s shoulder as he rushes out the front door.

You start to push off of his back to look at him.

“What are you doing?? Put me down, NOW! This is completely barbaric! Were you raised by wolves??”

“Shut your mouth.” Toye said sharply.

He wouldn’t cave no matter how hard you struggled. He continued to carry you until he got to the house where you had been staying at with the field nurses. He opened the front door and practically threw you onto the couch in the main corridor.

“You’re an absolute animal, Joe Toye.” You snarled at him.

“Yeah? You haven’t even seen the worst of it yet.” He retorted.

You stood up, only to lose your balance and fell backward on to the couch again.

“Well save it.” You spit back crossing your arms, “You can go now. I’m sure that little dish at the bar is waiting on you.”

Toye furrowed his eyebrows at you, “You’re the only one even thinking about her. I haven’t even given her a second thought since you walked through the door of that place!”

You scoff, “Sure, Joe. Didn’t seem like it when your hands were all over her like a magnet.” You pointed out as you stood up slowly.

“Yeah?” He queried as he closed the gap between the two of you, “You mean like this?”

He roughly grabbed you by the waist and kneaded your hips with his strong calloused hands as he pulled you into him. Your faces so close, you thought he was going to kiss you, but he only hovered over your mouth. You were a deer in the headlights, your words caught in your throat somewhere. You almost forgot to take breath when you started to feel faint, so you took in a deep breath through your nose to recover.

You put your hands on his chest and started to push away.

“What are you doing, Toye?” You manage to say.

He jerked you back into him, slithering his one hand across the small of your back while the other one firmly caressed the swell of your ass. You tried to protest, but your voice betrayed you only allowing a whimper to escape from your throat. This man had you a melting hot mess in his arms and it only made you angrier that he was getting you flustered.

“What? Got nothin’ snarky to say now, sweetheart?” He teased.

The fire inside you began to rise, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were turned on, or pissed off.

“I hate you.” You sneered as you slipped out of his grasp and headed for the staircase.

Before you could lift your foot to take the first step, you feel yourself twirled back around and face to face with Toye in his arms.

*“Half of the people in the world are women…Why does it have to be you that stirs me?”* He growled before grabbing the back of your head to bring your mouth to his.

You wanted to fight back and push away again, but your body fought you, leaning into his body and fisting his uniform jacket to pull him as close as possible to you. You part your lips to allow his tongue to pass and explore yours. You playfully nip at his bottom lip eliciting a deep guttural groan from him. His hands scoured your body as his hips instinctively pushed his hard on against you. You dig your nails into his shoulders as you moan into his mouth.

You pull back, “Let’s take this upstairs.”

Toye only replied with a mischievous grin, then picked you up bridal style to carry you up the stairs. When you direct him to your room, he set you down to secure the door. Right at the moment he turned around, you forced him against the door and hungrily kiss him while unraveling his tie.

He grabbed you by the shoulders swinging you around pinning you against the door with a ‘thud’ then placed his hand around your throat. He tightened his grip enough to make a point he was in charge, but not hard enough to alarm you. You instinctively grab his wrist with both hands as you clenched your thighs together, hoping to get some friction against your core and to prevent the wetness from dripping down your leg.

You hissed through your teeth as a smile stretched across your face. Toye pressed himself harder against you, the bulge in his pants grinding into your pelvis. You slide one hand away from his wrist gradually finding your way to his belt buckle. His fingers around your neck increased their grip.

You ran your tongue along your lower lip. He looks from your eyes to your mouth as a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. He suddenly scooped you up from behind your thighs wrapping your legs around his waist and carried you over to the bed, dropping you on your back onto the mattress.

He removed his tie, then with one hand unbuckled his belt all the while staring at you like a starved wolf about to pounce on his prey. You scoot to the edge of the bed and start to unbutton your uniform top. He situated himself between your spread knees at the edge of the bed.

You look up at him through your lashes and smile as you start to work on removing his pants. Your top partially open with your cleavage peaking through, he fisted the front with both hands and yanked the blouse off your shoulders. You wiggle out of the shirt and drop his pants and briefs as he removed his uniform top.

Now you were both ravenous for eachother just yanking off articles of clothing and throwing them carelessly onto the floor. Finally when he slid your panties off, a devilish grin graced his face when he saw how wet you were for him.

He looked at you roguishly as he glided two of his fingers up and down your drenched slit.

“Is this all from me?” His gruff honeyed voice had you melting in his hand.

You nod without breaking eye contact. He crawled over you, caging you in between his brawny arms. As his hardened dick rested on top of your center, he started to grind into you, coating the tip of his cock with your slick between your folds.

You couldn’t help but arch your back, rhythmically moving your hips with his to feel him rub against your clit. Your needy sighs spurred him on, knowing he was making you feel so good.

“Oh my God, Toye-“

“No. No more ‘Toye.’ I want to hear you say my name.” He commanded.

You stare at him.

“Fucking say it.” He ordered.

“Joe…” you breathed as you playfully nip at his lower lip, greedily locking onto his mouth.

He lifted you by the ass and pushed his length through your dripping entrance with one fleeting thrust forward.

You gasp then wrap your legs around his waist, waiting for the ride to begin. Joe unleashed over a year’s worth of pent up rage and frustration from the war onto you, railing into you in almost a deliciously painful pace. He was rough, and aggressive, yet attentive and sensual.

He sat up resting on his heels and angled you closer into him by hugging your thighs against him and driving into you, hitting that spot that had you edging to your finish.

He feels your walls constricting around his cock, and starts to slow his tempo. You look at him with a pout.

All you could manage was a strained, “Why?”

He pulled out and hastily flipped you onto your hands and knees. He reached around your front under your arms once again grabbing your throat with his perfect hand. He pulls you back until your back was flush with his chest.

He guided the back of your head to rest on his shoulder before he turned to your ear.

“You think that fucking Fox Company chump could’ve done this for you?” He hissed.

You feel his grip constricting your neck. You’re so fucked out you can’t help but laugh.

“Fucking answer me, sweetheart. You think that asshole’s got anything on me?” His voice rumbling in your ear like thunder.

You start to pant, your bare chest and peaked nipples heaving from overstimulation and restriction of oxygen.

“No, Joe. Never.” You huffed.

You feel his lips curl into a smile against your jawline. He nipped at your ear.

“That’s right, baby.” He purred before he thrusted you forward on all fours.

He lined his dick up with your slippery pussy and entered you with a sweet push forward until he bottomed out. He plummeted into you, spanking you occasionally while his hips slammed into you.

“My God, Joe.” You moaned pushing back into him so he can get inside you as deep as possible.

“Yeah, scream my name so all Fox Company can hear.”

He had a vice grip on your waist, guiding you back everytime his hips came forward. The slams of his front against your ass grew steadily louder with groans and grunts between the two of you.

His stride began to stagger, and you could feel him pulsate inside you.

“I’m getting close, sweetheart.” You hear his low rugged voice from behind you.

“Me too, Joe.”

“I know, I can feel you squeezing on me. Let go, baby.” He hummed.

He reached around finding your clit and began rubbing hard circles onto the bud.

You close your eyes and focus on the sensation of where his hands were and the throbbing of his cock inside you then hearing his voice roar,

“Come on, baby, let go for me.”

He chased your orgasm until he felt your walls fluttering around his cock. You throw your head back practically howling as ropes of Joe’s cum released over and over again inside you. A guttural grunt left Joe’s lips as he groped your ass to have something to hold onto to steady himself.

Sweat glistened on his chiseled torso while he caught his breath. He snatched the hand towel by the basin next to the bed to clean you up after he pulled out. He plopped onto the bed next to you, pulling you into him to hold you.

You each sigh, content and relaxed in eachother’s afterglow.

“Your little bunny friend is going to be heart broken.” You joke.

Joe chuckled, “Yeah, I have that effect on people.”

You giggled.

“I got my girl right here.” He added.

Joe looked down adoringly at you with your head on his shoulder, sensing his eyes were on you, you look up at him. He gently kissed your lips, then rubbed his nose on the tip of yours.

~~~~~~~

#band of brothers #hbo war #101st airborne #easy company #ww2 #joe toye #kirk acevedo #Joe Toye smut #joe toye x reader #Joe Toye x female reader #Joe Toye x medic #medic #band of brothers smut #bill guarnere #eugene roe #donald malarkey #george luz #one shot

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ghostboneswrites2 · 8 months ago

Text

D.D. || Seductive Summer

Fic Challenge (18+)

How to participate:

Choose your prompt below!

Tag me in your post and use the tag #ddssf so that I can easily find your work!

Challenge open until August 31!

Rules:

500-5k word limit

You may only choose one prompt

You may only enter one story from one account/blog

Story must be able to stand alone. You can use it as part of an ongoing series, but it needs to stand on its own just fine.

Clearly tag NSFW works and use warnings

To keep things simple, stories must be reader inserts (Daryl x Reader)

Not a rule, but feel free to keep reader descriptions vague for the sake of inclusivity!

Story does NOT have to include smut!

Results:

Stories posted/submitted by August 31 will be compiled into a challenge masterlist (which I’ll also link on my main masterlist)

Within the second week of September, polls will be posted for readers to vote for their favorite story from each prompt

Winners from each prompt will have a story of their choice linked on my masterlist & to all of my one shots & reader requests until October 1st!

Prompts:

In spirit of this particularly hot summer, these prompts are all inspired by refreshing fruits 🍉

These prompts are intentionally somewhat vague to leave room for interpretation and unique execution.

This means these can be AUs, pre-apoc, within the canon timeline, etc.

Quick edit!!! - The collages I made for these prompts are very fem coded and that is for one reason and one reason only: because the app I use doesn’t have many (if any) masc stickers to use for things like this. Your reader does not have to be fem!reader!!

1. Lemonade 🍋

Prompt: Serving a cold treat on a hot day.

Quote: It’s mighty sweet.

2. Cherry Bomb 🍒

Prompt: He can’t focus on the task at hand with a vixen around to distract him.

Quote: Quit smackin’ your red lips and help me.

3. Peachy 🍑

Prompt: The Georgia Peach can’t resist the bad boy next door.

Quote: Well ain’t you just a peach.

dividers from @sister-lucifer

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #fic challenge #daryl dixon fanfiction #fanfic writing #fanfic challenge #my challenges

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jumpscaregoose · 3 months ago

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tss is kind of a weird manga if you think about it. I've been doing that a lot

its main goal is to be a sequel to flowers, and in that a sequel to the original shaman king, but then you read it and that's. really just the tip of the iceberg. tss is already a confusing, messy story if you know what it's doing, but if you go into it only having read og shaman king and flowers (like I did the first time around) you are going to be so lost

takei has this habit of reusing characters and concepts in his work, he's been doing it literally since the beginning. if we're counting each one separately (including alumi), he's written five anna the itakos. the anna that shows up in butsu zone is almost identical to anna from the original oneshot. he does this reduce reuse recycle thing in shaman king too, most obviously with anna and gandhara. and of course this continues into the mainline sequels.

flowers is interesting in comparison to tss, because it is a shaman king sequel in the way you'd expect. it repeats many of the same characters and plot beats as the original (apathetic main character, itako no anna fiance, edgy rival with a goth older sister). hana even mentions a few times that he doesn't want to relive the same beats as his father. compared to tss, the prior work flowers draws on the most is shaman king. for a few chapters. because then we get yahabe.

yahabe is probably the cleanest copy paste into the shaman king universe, excluding butsu zone. it was a oneshot that wrapped itself up after clearly defining its premise while leaving room for the story to continue. except, instead of this continuation being a full yahabe serialization, we just get yosuke in shaman king. yahabe!yosuke and mankin!yosuke could exist on the same timeline, and with how the flowers anime reuses shots from the yahabe manga and ova, that feels like what's supposed to be canon. any deviations from the shaman king canon in yahabe itself can easily be explained away by yahabe being from yosuke's perspective as a non-shaman who doesn't know what the hell is going on. he integrates so cleanly into flowers I didn't even know he was from something else until earlier this year. the same thing applies to death zero, because I fully forgot that was a different thing while writing this.

so flowers has shaman king, and yahabe, and death zero, and it sets up the main plot. and then there's tss.

tss is completely incomprehensible if you haven't done at least 30 chapters of external reading.

or, it's comprehensible, but it's also bad. the reading experience is made so much worse if, for example, you haven't read ultimo and don't know how terrifying not-stan lee actually is. or how important the themes of ultimo are to tss itself. ultimo is a conversation on the objectivity of good and evil, in the same way tss is a battle of ideologies between gods. if you haven't read ultimo, the dong family comes out of absolute nowhere and make even less sense then they do with context.

and then there's senju. the page where senju, when asked what he's learned on his 40 (20 in real actual life) year journey, smiles and says he "can't save people after all" is probably my favourite moment in anything takei's ever written. the weight of that statement means nothing to the reader who's only come from shaman king, because the senju we see in shaman king is sati saigan's spirit ally and nothing else. "I can't save people after all" is an answer to the main thesis of butsu zone, an answer given decades after that manga was cancelled to a collection of readers who might not even know what that is. it's an impactful moment if you've read butsu zone, if you know how it was cut short before takei could take the story where he wanted, if you know the creator has been writing about the same things, about the state of the world and doing what's right and how there are no bad people who can see ghosts, for decades. it makes you think about the thing you're currently reading, the sequel to the one story that author told that made it, that got to say its piece.

because takei's work is kind of cursed. his manga are frequently cancelled, his oneshots never picked up for serialization. the magazines his sequels run in getting cancelled themselves, leaving his stories in limbo. even shaman king, his most successful work, only got its true ending years after it concluded. there is so much in takei's work that has gone unsaid.

when senju stands in front of daremoine and says he can't save people, it's satisfying. it may have been what takei set out to write in 1997, or maybe it was something he thought of in the years between, but either way. this is the ending of butsu zone. this is how its theme's conclude. in the sequel to the sequel of a manga from which its original protagonist was a side character, and underdeveloped plotline. and when you've read butsu zone, it feels good, it feels complete. it hits you like a ton of bricks

this is why I think flowers and super star lose people. because they aren't sequels to shaman king. they're sequels to everything takei has ever written.

to get the most out of super star, you need to have read not only shaman king and its spinoffs, not only flowers, but butsu zone and ultimo and yahabe. hell, to understand shaman king you need to have read mappa douji, or the entire ending falls flat on its face

if you lean into it, this creates an interconnectedness to takei's work, a sense that what you're reading right now is a part of something bigger. whatever is being contemplated currently ties into a much larger conversation about society and morality spanning one man's entire career.

if you don't, you get... a bunch of messy stories. tss makes no bloody sense half the time. ultimo is insane enough on its own, and you're supposed to keep track of that and all the little changes that fit it into this timeline? not to mention the flaws in takei's writing itself, how he tends to pace things weird and leave gaps in his stories, all of it makes tss specifically pretty inaccessible to the average reader.

what is there to take away from this?

I'm not sure, really. I love tss, a lot actually. I enjoy the sense of discovery that comes with engaging in this twisted knot of a story. I think that if you tried to read tss with only shaman king and were frustrated, you should check out yahabe and ultimo and especially butsu zone and try again. you might still think it's a mess, but I think it's worth it to see if that's what lost you

but I know that's also a big ask, that's over 80 chapters of manga to read just to have the backstory for the insane stuff in tss. not everyone's up for that, and that's fair

do I think tss would be more accessible if it only drew from shaman king? yes. do I think it would have been better?

#shaman king #shaman king the super star #I have mixed feelings about takei's work and tss especially but I still really love it #I've been trying to condense these thoughts into some kind of video essay so consider this post a first draft #I'll probably think some more on this later

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signanothername · 4 months ago

Note

Was nereid actually the cause of ccino’s alternative timelines being destroyed??? Because I know we haven’t really seen error but error… tends to not be one to leave a job unfinished

You’re completely right, it isn’t like Error to leave an Au without making sure it’s completely and utterly extinguished

But see, the trick is that, this is Nightmare’s guess, that it’s Error, and he’s right.. partially

It was Error who destroyed those alternative timelines of Fluffytale, Error worked his way up till the main timeline is all that’s left, the problem? Fluffytale’s main timeline’s code was already corrupted way before Error destroyed any of the alternative timelines

With Frisk missing, and resets were no more, Fluffytale existed in that sort of a limbo state, where the timelines that were created before Frisk went missing stayed there, but the creation of other timelines completely stopped, and with the supposed “main character” of the story gone, Fluffytale’s code ended up scrambled as it tried to repair itself, except there is always that hole in the code that the universe couldn’t patch up

But I think it’s important to explain how I see codes working in universes for this to make sense xgxhhdhd

The code of a universe that attaches to the multiverse as a whole is only truly attatched to the main timeline, and any other timeline has a code of its own that attaches to said main timeline of the universe itself

But other timlines are “copies” of the script, so when the corruption of the code happened, the code of the main timeline is the one truly affected, it didn’t affect any other the other alternative timelines

Think if it as a word document of the same subject, you make the first document and save it to your computer right? Then you decide you want to edit on the document without changing the og one, so you “save as” and put the new copy of the document under a new name

If you go and edit the og document, the copy won’t change cause of it, and if you edit the copy, the og document won’t change either

So when the main timeline’s code got corrupted, none of the codes for the alternative timelines changed

So Error didn’t face any problems (unless you count Ink a problem hchchcch) with destroying the alternative timelines, one by one, went in, “cleaned up”, went out

When he finally reached the main timeline, he tried destroying it, it didn’t go so well, his strings couldn’t even leave a single scratch on any of the code of the timeline, Error tries every trick in the book but nothing works

Eventually he realizes the problem, the code of the universe is corrupted, that of course doesn’t stop Error from trying to erase it, only whoops!! Turns out corrupted anomalous code (Error) dealing with corrupted anomalous code (Fluffytale) isn’t a smart idea

Fluffytale’s code deals with Errors code as a sister code, it wrongly identifies and recognizes it as part of its own code, and boom, it gains immunity to Error’s powers, and until Error’s able to find a way in which that mess can be dealt with, Fluffytale survives

Of course Error threw a tantrum over it, but there’s nothing to be done, so he left the universe alone and went to eat chocolate and talk to anomaly #13 to cope chhcchhcfh

———

Context

#anothers ask #fluffytale #error sans

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orphiclovers · 7 months ago

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Yoo Joonghyuk's timeline (approx.)

The scenarios start when he is 28 years old. We know this from the first time Kim Dokja activates Character Summary, so at least that's for certain.

And we actually get his POV of the first time he went through the first scenario. Here's what World Of Zero has to say for himself.

There's a couple of things here. When he talks about 'discord between teamates and director's high-handedness' he's talking about events of Yoo Mia side story, which he said happened 'years ago'.

Since then, he has stopped going out of the house, so, become a shut-in, and is 'staying under the radar'. Presumably, he's not working as a pro-gamer anymore.

One other thing he mentions is that his sister was left to him when he was 'on the fast track to success'. More on that later.

Here he quickly summarizes his whole pre-scenarios life, skipping some details. All of this is expanded on in yoo mia side story, but it's nice to have corroboration from the main story.

Onto Yoo Mia Side story. Let's say it happened 3 years before the start of the scenarios for simplicity's sake, since that's an amount of time that could be described as 'years ago' while also not so long ago that the media would have forgotten him completely. So Yoo Joonghyuk would be 25 years old in Yoo Mia side story.

He had been on Team Ash for 3 years total at this point, since he was 22 years old. A year into his gaming career with Ash, at 23, he got a big break and became famous.

This must be around when he got Yoo Mia left at his door.

If she wasn't a newborn, she was still very young. I think if she was 1 year old at the time, she would be 3 years old in Yoo Mia side story and 6 years old at the start of scenarios, which makes sense to me. She already knows how to talk in Yoo Mia side story, but her sentences are quite simple and she baby-talks a lot, which would match the development of a 3 year old. Kang Woohyun seems to think her language skills are lacking for her age, but that's probably because she (is implied to have) some kind of speech impediment.

(This would mean post timeskip, she's the youngest transcendent in history at 9 or 10 years old. Also, she calls Gilyoung and Yoosung 'oppa' and 'eonni', meaning they are older than her. If they at 11 years old and she is 6, that tracks.)

One thing that makes no sense is that Yoo Joonghyuk says she's 'about 68 cm tall'. That's the height of a 10 month old baby, which she definitely isn't, as she walks and talks and eats solid foods. I'll assume Yoo Joonghyuk is just bad at judging heights and leave it at that.

Back to Yoo Joonghyuk.

Here he is reminiscing on meeting Park Jinsang 3 years ago at 22 years old.

Before that, he was at his first 'workplace' - Director Kim's camp. This is his earliest memory, as Zero tells us, the 'illegal work site' he conveniently spawned in.

He worked there for an unknown amount of time until Park Jinsang took him away. Probably somewhere between a couple of months and 4 years, since the impact it left on him leads me to believe it wasn't less than a month and it couldn't have been much before he was 18, since Zero says this and he's probably right.

Yoo Mia side story Yoo Joonghyuk says it a little differently, that he 'doesn't remember when he started living alone.'

I interpret this as his first memory is still spawning at Director Kim's camp, but he just assumes there must have been something before that, as he's younger and less shrewd than Zero and hasn't accepted the supernatural nature of his amnesia.

Okay, there's one more thing and then this damn post can be over.

Yoo Joonghyuk at one point calls his past with Park Jinsang his 'teenage years' when he would have been over 20 at that point. If this isn't a translation error, I think Yoo Joonghyuk is being hyperbolic here in that it feels like 'teen years' to him as it's his earliest memories and he was a lot more naive back then. It's the only way I can figure it all making sense in a cohesive way...

Aaaaand that's it! Yoo Joonghyuk's life from around 18 to 28 years in reverse chronological order :P

#yoo joonghyuk #sorry for the 'dont you love the color of the sky' length post. it is what it is #orv spoilers #yoo mia side story #orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #yoo mia

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ghostfanwriter · 2 years ago

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💖🧰 Dirty Hands 🧰💖

Part two

🧰 Pairing: Joel Miller x Afab!Reader

💖 Synopsis: Your dads, Bill and Frank, are the only people you've ever met. When Joel Miller comes to visit, you learn about new and exciting feelings.

🧰 Features: 🔞, soft!Joel, kissing, very secluded and kinda oblivious reader. Honestly there's not much, this is mostly just the setting of the story.

💖 Word count: A bit over 5k.

🧰 About this: Timeline's a bit different from the show. Basically their ages are the same from the show, Bill and Frank are older than Joel. But here, they all meet in 2023, after the raiders already shot Bill. The main difference from the show is that here Bill and Frank are not as old in 2023 as they are on the show, I picture then as old as they are when they meet Joel and Tess on the show.

💖 Author's note: She's finally here! I loved writing Bill and Frank ✋🏻🤧 literally my favorite. Writing their dynamics with reader was a joy, loved it.

Good reading 🧰💖

💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰💖🧰

You've lived in Lincoln your whole life, but the majority of it was inside the town your dad built for himself right after the outbreak.

He was the only person you knew — or remembered, at least — until Frank arrived.

You were six or seven when your dad told you to lock yourself inside your bedroom and gave you a gun, which he had already taught you how to use. "You only open this door for daddy or to kill whoever is inside that trap, alright, cupcake?" You obeyed, looking out the window and watching him talk and then walk the man past his gates.

You only opened your door when he called you, a couple minutes later, a plate of food in his hands. "This is for you, baby. I'm gonna feed him and he'll go away. He can't see or hear you, so you stay here real quiet. I'll tell you when you can leave."

And you did, but instead of calling you, he came back later, tucked you in and told you not to leave your room for the rest of the night. You had a bathroom and he brought you more food and told you not to worry, so you didn't mind.

Next morning he introduced you to Frank, saying he'd stay around for a while.

A while became forever, and before you knew it, you had two dads. Two very different men who did their best to look after you.

But nothing they did could prepare you for today.

Nothing could prepare you for the man you'd see today.

🧰💖≈

Your dads were having people over for the first time in literally forever. But you wouldn't be a part of it.

"Bill, for God's sake, she would have so much fun! She needs to see people." You heard Frank almost yell from the kitchen.

"I'm not letting them see her! I don't know what got over me to let you give them our fucking location! I won't let them know we have a daughter!" Bill sounded angry and upset, he was afraid everything he worked so hard on building could be destroyed by Frank's "friends".

So the first woman — if you don't consider the one in your faded memories — you've ever seen, and the very first man who wasn't one of your dads, had to be seen from your bedroom window.

When you saw her you smiled, thinking about all the things you two could talk about. Did her hair annoy her as much as yours did sometimes? Did she feel the same things that you did? What would her voice sound like?

Your wandering was cut by the next new person you saw.

Tall, broad shoulders, short and greying hair and beard and a sculpted face. An imposing figure that took over your senses, setting itself instantly as your new favorite sight. He made your stomach feel like it was loose, floating around your belly, but you couldn't bring yourself to look anywhere else.

You watched from your window as they sat down and ate. Your dads clearly having two very different experiences, Frank was laid back and having fun, while Bill sat stiff and you constantly saw his hand reach for his gun.

Your attention was focused on the man, though. The way he sat, how his jaw moved when he chewed on your dad's food, how his eyes were hooded and serious, most of the time holding your dad's gaze.

His eyes were so pretty, from a distance they seemed dark and mysterious, and you stared into them, your brows furrowing with the intensity of his look. You were so lost in them that it took you — way over — a second to realize he was looking right at you. And you only noticed because your dad yelled.

"Frank, not inside!"

You hid behind your curtains. Your chest moving so fast it hurts, and you can feel every contraction of your heart.

Your dad will fucking kill you. They shouldn't have seen you, but now the man has.

"Aren't you going to introduce us to her?" He had barely spoken yet, and his voice sent chills down your spine, pooling in your panties.

"Who?" Bill asked, his hand reaching for his gun. He was ready to kill both of them at any wrong move.

"Oh, shit." Frank sighed under his breath. "Bill, it's okay." He said, resting his hand on Bill's shoulder.

"There's a girl?" The woman asked excited, looking around to see if she could find you.

"Fucking — stay here." Bill told the man and the woman.

Him and Frank walked inside, and you, still hidden behind the curtains, kept looking at the man. Your heart felt like it didn't fit inside your chest anymore.

You stepped away when they walked inside your bedroom.

"Honey, I told you to be careful. Goddammit." Bill said, opening his arms as you run towards him, tugging yourself under his embrace.

"Sorry, daddy. I wanted to see them." Frank invited himself into the hug. "It's okay, darling. We'll take you to meet them, if you want to. They seem like good people, even your dad has to admit." But Bill's face didn't look like he agreed with it.

"Can I?" You looked into Bill's eyes and he looked at Frank, shaking his head no, but looking back at you and sighing.

"Okay. You can come down. But!" He said when you started giggling into his chest, hugging him tighter. "But they think we have others come over, so keep that in mind. And, listen to me. You're gonna stay with us, alright? I want to keep my eyes on you the whole damn time." You nod enthusiastically, hugging Frank.

"Oh, you'll love Tess!" He said and you made a little happy sound.

"I know! I have so much I want to talk to her about!" You say excited. Bill sighing behind you, scratching the back of his neck and shaking his head, a soft smile breaking through his face.

You three reach the front door. Your arm is tangled with Bill's, your eyes wandering around as you walk outside.

"Look, there is a girl. She's our daughter. She's... We wanted to know you first, before you could meet her." Frank said, walking outside first, you and Bill following right after.

You were wearing a yellow summer dress, and you could see the man gulping when he saw you. You were a vision he thought this world would never provide him again.

Feminine and pretty. Colorful amongst all the muted colors everyone was wearing.

Your dress perfectly outlining your curves, your hair looking like silk, falling carefully over your shoulders, your eyes wide; attentive but curious at the same time.

"Oh, look at you! You're so pretty!" The woman said, and you couldn't hold your smile back anymore. "I'm Tess, what's your name?" You looked up, at Bill, who caught your gaze and nodded for you to respond.

You told her your name, and you could see the man's brows furrow behind her when you said it.

"Well, it's really nice to meet you. This is Joel, we're..." She looked back at him, then at your dads, and she seemed uncomfortable for a second. "We're friends. And we're really glad to be here, to meet this place. To meet you!" She finished with a warm smile.

You loved her.

You shook her hand and the man approached you, shaking your hand as well, his eyes sweet but intense, and a soft smile on his lips. You couldn't help the girly smile that stamped your own lips while greeting him.

His hand was big, rough, textured, but also soft and warm, his fingers double the size of yours, distracting you. It made your breath get stuck on your throat, and your mind wonder what it would feel like if he held you the way your dads held one another. If he touched your face or your sides. If he ran his hands up your legs, like you do sometimes at night.

If his rough fingers would hurt you if they touched you on other places, how much further than yours his fingers could go, how much more you'd have to open yourself to him.

You loved him.

You all sat back down at the table, Bill insisting you'd sit between him and Frank. You talked a lot to Tess, about things you had tried to talk about with your dads, but they never seemed to fully understand.

After your dad lowered his guard a little, he let you, Frank and Tess walk around, show her some things and talk. You felt comfortable around her, like she was someone you had always known.

Whenever you looked at the man, though, you felt the same things from when you were watching him through your window. Your stomach felt funny, and your palms dry and sweaty at the same time. The fact that he kept looking at your direction didn't help you, either.

Everytime you were not around him you felt in your guts that you were wasting your time, that you should come back and try to get close to him.

It was like there was a magnetic field between you two. You couldn't stop looking for him, and he seemed to not find interest in anything else after seeing you.

Every fucking time you looked at him you found his eyes already on you. Analyzing you, studying you, as if he wanted to engrave you on his mind.

You were everything he thought didn't exist anymore. You were feminine, your hair was pretty, your skin was soft and you smelled good. Frank had made you a perfume with a few flowers and fruits, and you wore it everyday.

It smelled fresh and delicate, and the smell got stuck on Joel's wrist, coating his mind with a soft but persistent layer of you.

Even more than the smell, the hair or the soft skin, it was you that drove him crazy. The silly smile you had stamped on your face the whole goddamn time, the way you talked to Tess like you could never run out of things to talk about, how delicate you looked.

But also how your dads told the story of the day raiders tried to invade Lincoln, how you and Bill shot them, how you killed the one who shot Bill. Most of all how you told the whole thing with a smile on your face. How not fragile you were, despite your girly figure.

How intriguing you were.

And Joel couldn't keep his mind and his eyes off you.

He knew he wouldn't find someone like you ever again, so he wanted to make sure he had your frame right on his brain.

Having his attention made you feel good, in a different, new way. In a way you've never felt before. But it also made your stomach feel funny, like you were sick.

You went for Bill, who was sitting on a porch chair next to the man, taking to him. "Daddy, is it okay if I go to bed? Not feeling great." You asked your dad, the man shifting by his side.

"Yes, darling, sure. Do you need anything?" He asked, his voice coated with concern.

"No, I'm fine. Think it's just been a lot for one day. Just wanna lay down for a bit." You bend down to kiss his cheek, and he kisses you too, the man's eyes glued to your body the whole time.

"See you, Joel. Nice to meet you." You say to the man, who nods and smiles at you, offering you his hand again, making your cheeks burn at the feeling of them.

💖🧰≈

You wake up with a soft knock on your bedroom door.

You open your eyes to find Frank, who invites himself in, sitting on your bed.

"Hi, darling. How are you? Tired already?" He mentions for you to sit next to him, which you do, snuggling next to him, hugging his side.

"Doing fine. Better anyway." He looks down at you, worried. "Oh, what was wrong? You didn't say anything."

You don't know how to explain, but you try anyway.

"I don't know, I felt weird since they arrived. Felt this thing on my stomach, like I would throw up. But now I think it's gone."

"Oh, sweetheart-" your dad starts, but he stops when Bill and the man stand on your doorframe. The man looks at you from behind your dad, up and down, smiling softly at your sleepy face and hair. "Frank, cover her up, please."

He does it, covering your body — previously covered only by a tight tank top and an underwear — with your blanket. "I'm showing Joel his room. Baby, are you feeling better?"

You nod and smile. "Good, was worried about you. Now, keep your door closed. Locked, please." Bill says as he closes your door and leaves with the man.

You grunt, feeling the same thing again. "Ugh, here it is. Not gone yet. Dad's food never made me feel like this before." You snuggle closer to Frank, who sighs and hugs you tighter.

"Oh, honey pie, you're not sick. It wasn't dad's food." You look at him.

What could it be, then?

"But don't worry, Tess already left and Joel is just hanging over for a while to help me and dad around with some fixings."

You grunt, feeling funny again. Thinking about Joel leaving and never seeing him again makes your heart sink down on your chest.

💖🧰≈

You spend the next day inside your bedroom, watching the man work with your dads, fixing some things on the exterior of your house and helping them with things they can't do by themselves anymore.

Watching him carry heavy things around and laughing with your dads made you uncomfortable. Your body begging you for some relief.

So you give it some. You lift your skirt and touch yourself over your panties. Steady and fast circles around your clit until you cum, the man being the only thing in your mind.

You imagined what it would feel like to have him hold you, his skin touching yours, what kissing would feel like. How he'd hold you on his strong arms, how he'd move you around.

You wondered if he looked like the men from the magazines you found on your dad's car, and what he would to with it, what it would be like, what it would feel like.

As soon as your high was over you heard your name being yelled from outside. It was already dark, but you were close to the window and got worried they may have seen you.

You'd be fucked if they did.

You looked down and found all three of them looking at you. Bill was the one to speak.

"Baby, can you cook us something for dinner, please? We're gonna be here for a while still." You hoped your voice would come out okay.

"Sure daddy, be right down." You answered, Joel's gaze weakening for a split.

"Thanks, love." Frank said and they went back to work.

💖🧰≈

You felt funny while you cooked dinner. Specially since you knew Joel was gonna eat. You couldn't pull yourself out of him while you cooked, thinking about how tired and hungry he must be, and how you'd be the one providing food for him. How you'd be making him feel good after working all day.

It makes you want to do it more, to do things for him, help him feel better after a tiring day.

You're so lost on him you don't notice when he walks in the kitchen, watching you for a while in silence. You drop a wooden spoon on the floor and bend over to grab it, your skirt fully lifting and leaving your whole ass on display.

He chokes on his saliva, startling you, and you get up, looking at him. "You always wear that around the house?" He asks, talking directly to you for the first time since you introduced yourself the day before, his voice a little broken.

"Yes, she does. Because she's our daughter and it's usually only us around here." Frank says out of nowhere. "But I told her she should wear more appropriate things while Joel's around, didn't I, love?" You blush.

He did, but this was literally the first time you had someone over, so you forgot. And honestly "appropriate" isn't exactly clear. You weren't naked, and your clothes were never questioned before.

"Sorry, dad, I'll go change. Can you watch the pans for me, please? Thanks." You say rushing out of the kitchen, avoiding Joel's gaze.

"You back the fuck off, alright? Bill will fucking murder you if he sees you watching her like that." Frank says after a bit, while Joel grabs a cup of water.

"I wasn't watching her, I'm sorry. Just stopped and she dropped it. I just wanted some water. Besides, there's Tess—" Frank looked at him from over his shoulders while he stirred a pan with pasta. "Don't shit me, Joel. Tess told me about you two. I know you're not a couple anymore." Joel shifts on his feet. Tess shouldn't have said anything.

"But she's young, and she's used to only have us around the house. She got overwhelmed by you, and I believe you may be a good man, but not for my daughter." Joel's heart aches a bit. He thinks of Sarah, how livid he'd be if a man ever looked at her the way he found himself looking at you.

"And again, be thankful I was the one to walk in and not Bill. You'd be buried outside by now. If he left anything to be buried, that is."

You walk back in, in a sweater and pants. Bill walks in at the same time, drenched in sweat, panting quietly.

"You're sick, honey? Why are you wearing this?" You look over at Frank, who rolls his eyes. "She just wanted something more cozy, Bill. She's alright." He looked at the three of you, his gaze softening at you. "Okay then, I like that you're fully covered." He says, eyeing Joel for a second before looking at you again.

"I'm gonna shower and then we can eat. Thank you, darling. It smells amazing." He kissed your cheek and went to his bedroom.

"Love the outfit, sweetheart. Don't listen to your dad, this is perfect. Joel, why don't you go take a shower too so we can all eat together?" Frank says.

Joel looks at you, then at Frank, then grunts in agreement and goes upstairs.

"Dad, is it bad that I... Think about him?" You ask, genuinely concerned. Frank turns the stove off and looks at you. "What do you think about him, love?"

You feel your cheeks on fire.

"I don't know." You respond, not wanting to welcome your dad on your daydreams. He comes towards you, cupping your cheeks loosely.

"My love, do you think about him like dad and I? You you think of doing to him what you see us do? Kissing, hugging?" He asks low, afraid somehow Bill could hear them.

"I do." You whisper, pushing yourself into his embrace, hugging him tight and snuggling your face on his chest. "I think about what kissing him would be like. What having his hands on me would feel like. What hugging him would feel like." You say, knowing well that you can't lie to your dad.

"Darling that's perfectly normal. Joel is a beautiful man, the only man you've seen besides me and dad." He waits for a response, but you have nothing to say.

"Just... There's a lot you don't know, okay? A lot we didn't think we had to tell you about. And your dad and I are just afraid someone might take advantage of that." He hugs you tighter, hoping Joel wouldn't be that someone.

🧰💖≈

After dinner, you help Bill with the dishes while he chats with Frank and Joel, who are still at the table. They're talking about construction, cars and resources, and you're just listening to them.

Then you all go to bed and you lock your door, just like your dad asked you to.

Before you could sleep, though, you let the man take over you again.

You insert two fingers inside you and circle your clit desperately, trying to just get some relief so you could go to sleep. Softly, you moan the man's name when you cum, and pray he couldn't listen to you.

Your water bottle was empty, and you had to go downstairs to refill it. "Fuck!" You said, if one of your dads saw you outside your bedroom, they would kill you.

But your throat was dry and you didn't want to grab water from your bathroom. So you had no choice.

You almost fell on top of Joel when you opened your door and found him standing right in front of you.

"What are you doing here?" Your voice high and scared.

"Thought I heard you call me, came to see if you needed my help for something." His voice low and heavy, like his words were thick and hard to let out.

"I wasn't calling you. I don't need help, I was just going to grab some water." You respond way too fast, barely taking breaks between your words.

"Hum, I could swear I heard your pretty voice call my name just a minute ago. Joel, Joel, Joel. Multiple times. Didn't know you did those things, baby." His expression is serious and dark, looking down as he towers over you.

He wasn't going to try anything. But since you were calling him...

Fuck.

"I... I wasn't calling you. I'm sorry, I have to get back to bed." You try to close the door, but he doesn't let you, easily keeping it open with his forearm.

"But you weren't sleeping, were you, baby?" He steps in, forcing you to walk back inside. "I'm sorry. I just... I… I saw you and you were looking at me and I… I shouldn't, you barely even spoke to me, I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

He closes the door behind him.

"Oh, I don't mind angel, I'm not mad at you. My name never sounded sweeter. But I can't sleep now. Not now that I've heard it." His arm snakes around your waist, and he pushes you close.

He connects his mouth to yours, and you finally learn what a kiss feels like. His beard makes you flinch at first, scratching and almost hurting the sensitive skin of your face.

You're used to your dads' beards when you kiss their cheeks, but Joel's feels different, it hurts in a way that makes you want to feel it even more.

You moan into it and your body softens under his embrace, your legs give in and you're only standing because he's holding you. Your hands grab his back and his hair, and you moan into his mouth when his tongue opens it's way into yours.

His arms hold you tight and squeeze you, his large hands hold you you firmly, and you feel like that's what was missing for you all along. To be in Joel Miller's arms.

He is intoxicating.

His perfume, woody and different from the ones your dads have, mixed with his natural essence make you dizzy. His strong arms hold you in a way you didn't know you needed to be held. His mouth explores you with such hunger, such passion, and you've only just met.

It makes you wonder what it would be like if he loved you, if he cared for you. How much more of this intensity you'd feel from him.

You deepen the kiss, exploring his mouth with hunger and curiosity, all while doing your best not to drown in saliva.

He breaks the kiss and goes to your jawline and neck, smelling, kissing and biting you, his beard scratching you deliciously, making you moan.

"You smell so good, baby, you're so soft. Been a long time since I saw a girl like you. All pretty and sweet for me like this." He says as he runs his hand through your hair, his rough fingers caressing your scalp, pulling your head back to make more room for his lips.

You feel something hard pressing on your lower belly and you pull away. "Wait, Joel. I think there's something in your pocket." He looks down and laughs, grinding himself on you.

"This, baby?" His voice low and breathy. You nod and he looks at you, his breath heavy, his brows furrowed, now showing more confusion than arousal.

He lets you go abruptly, looking puzzled at you, analyzing you. "How old are you?"

You frown.

"I don't know, actually." You respond.

"What? How… how do you not know?" He turns his head, even more confused.

It was confusing, you'll give him that.

"Well, my dad, Bill, found me on a road a few days after the outbreak. After FEDRA evacuated the town. He said I could walk and speak, but was still really small. So he thinks I was around 2 or 3." He looked at the roof and then at you, doing the math in his head. "So you're 23?"

You nod. "Yeah, probably."

He puts his hands on his hips, looking at you and at the door.

"And... How do you not know what this is?" He asks mentioning the tent on his pants.

Oh... Maybe because you've never seen a man other than your dads, and you've never fucked any of them. Maybe that's why?

"Well, you and Tess are really the first people I see that are not my dads, and, well, the people I knew before them. Y'know, not a lot of friends to have around here." You say moving your arms around, mentioning the empty town and all the emptiness surrounding it.

You get close to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and talking close to his ear, your hands roaming all over his back and hair.

"But I know somethings. Things I listened in songs, read in books. Things I want you to teach me." You say, touching his crotch, his cock throbbing inside his jeans.

But he thinks about your dads again, about you, and how he'd kill the man who tried anything similar with his own daughter.

"Sorry, baby. I can't. Your dads didn't tell me this. They said they had people come over before, just never stay. I thought you maybe got with one or some of them."

"You're the first." You say, not fully aware of all the weight the sentence has.

"I can't be your first one." He says, making you furrow your brows.

He pushes you away, walking towards the door.

"Why not?" you ask.

"Because you don't know me, baby. You're young and you need someone who knows you, and who you know. Someone who'll take care of you like you need." He sounded serious and decided. His voice deep and just slightly above a whisper.

He was kinda into the idea of you being innocent and naive. But when you're this untouched, it feels too much for him.

"But I want you." You say, returning his whisper. "I've been thinking about you ever since you showed up. Sometimes I feel this burn, this ache between my legs, and I used to fix it by just touching it. But today when I did it, my mind kept going back to you." You confess, and he swallows hard, his Adam's apple moving slowly as he did.

You see his eyes wander back around your body, and his gaze get darker again. But as soon as it darkens, he sees your face and it softens.

He turns towards the door, walking towards it.

Noticing how your words affected him, you keep going.

"I was calling you, Joel. I was doing it because of you." His body stiffens and he stops, his hand on the door handle. He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder.

"Please." You say, your voice sincere and sweet.

He turns back around, looking at you like you were tearing him apart. "I'm sorry. Can't do this to you. I don't know if I know how to be gentle anymore, I don't want to hurt you."

"If it's not you then who is it gonna be? My dads trusted you enough to let you inside our house, to let you sleep here with us. That has to mean something." You say, and he moves his jaw from side to side.

He knows he can't, but you're right. Someone could do worse than him trying his best to be gentle.

"Baby, if I have you, I won't want anyone else to have you after. If I'm your first one, I'll be your only one." He said, getting close to you.

"I don't know if I'll want anyone else after you." You respond, walking close to him and caressing his hair with your fingers. "I know I don't regret my first kiss." You whisper, your face close to his, and his eyes go darker, staring into yours.

He was your first kiss too.

"Could've been more gentle?" He asks with an embarrassed smile.

"It was perfect." You respond with a smile.

He looked at your lips, his hand coming to cup your cheek. You snuggle your face onto his hand, enjoying the texture and warmth of it.

"But I mean it. I can't do it. Not right now." You whimper, and he gives you a faintly stern look, his fingers pulling your hair behind your ear.

"Told you. You don't know me. I'll be around for a few more days. We'll be patient and see how this goes." Your face must be the one of a lost puppy by the way he's looking at you.

"Just don't want you to regret it. Can't just sleep with the first man you ever see, princess." He says with s laugh. The nickname makes your knees weak.

He kisses your cheeks, both of them, and let's go of you, grabbing your water bottle. "I'll fill it for you. Don't want your dads seeing you downstairs."

After a few minutes he comes back, finding you sitting on your bed. He places the bottle on your nightstand.

"Sleep tight." He wishes, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" You ask, feeling vulnerable already being so clingy to the man.

He holds your chin, caressing your jaw.

"I'll be here for a whole while, angel. Promise I won't go anywhere before we talk about this, okay?" You nod, getting up to lock the door after him.

He gives you a little kiss on the cheek and leaves, and you go back to bed, letting anticipation bloom on you, feeling like you're gonna melt.

To think that he was indeed also thinking about you, that he wanted you the same way you wanted him, made you feel funny, like you're gonna scream.

It made you revisit all the times you caught his gaze, everytime you saw his eyes go from your body to your eyes when you looked at him.

How maybe he did the same in his bedroom, thinking about you the same way you thought about him.

Just picturing that makes you feel funny, and you smile to yourself. Feeling all special to be noticed by a man like him: strong and resourceful, the things your dads taught to be — and to look for.

Your dads were worried he would take advantage of you. But on his grand opportunity to do so, he said no and told you to go back to sleep.

And that just made you want him more.

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Coming up: You convince Joel he's the right one to be your first, but how hard will it be?

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Did you like it? Hopefully yes, I loved writing this so much it hurts that it's finally out. I'm currently working on the part two 💖