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#ribbon raiders
saucyzoo · 3 months
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Christmas Style Poll!
UPDATE: ribbons won by a landslide! I should’ve known better than to only include one R rated style, I won’t make that mistake on the next poll. Still, I look forward to showing you all what I can do with this idea :)
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fr3sh-tragedies · 3 months
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Serenity
[Shadow of the Tomb Raider] Lara Croft x Female Reader
Word Count: 5.12k
Proofread: Yes
Content Warnings: Touch starved Lara (?), feelings of homesickness, fear of death, mentions of mourning, brief descriptions of wounds
Categories:
Angst Fluff Mix
One-Shot Preference Headcanon
[A/N]: Wanted to try a bit of a different format for the summary, hope it makes sense.
Enjoy!
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Harsh winds whipped past the shape of the land, bending around every mountain and down every ravine and valley like ribbon. Shivering harshly and clutching onto her heavy coat, Lara sighed, planting herself in front of the campfire she had set up. As the flames crackled to life and began to grow, she scooted closer, holding her hands out towards the blazing heat in an attempt to warm them. She huffed out hot air into her cupped palms before rubbing them together and shifting to hold them out again.
She repeated this motion a few more times before wriggling her fingers around a bit. Once she was sure they were warmed up enough, she slipped her journal out from her traveler’s pack and took her pen out. She flipped over to the next blank page, beginning to jot things down with stiff hands. It started with her summarizing all that had happened during the current expedition up until that point, but quickly shifted to her feelings of homesickness. It wasn’t the manor or her private apartment she was missing, however. She was missing the woman waiting for her back home.
A small smile of content formed on her lips at the mere thought of her.
“God, [Y/N], I wish you were…”
She shook her head as a chill ran down her spine, as if she was being reminded of the brutal conditions she was in. With a small struggle, she scribbled out the ending of the sentence before starting a new one.
“No, I wish I was there with you. I didn’t realize how much I’d miss you. Especially how warm you are. It’s freezing out here, although I’m not sure what I was expecting. Even when we stayed by the hot springs for a bit, my hands were too frozen to do anything. Writing this right now is extremely difficult because we’re headed toward the peak of a mountain where the snow is really dense. The altitude levels are getting high, and it’s making some of the crew sick, so we had to set up camp in the meantime. Aside from Jonah, the crew here doesn’t really care for all of this. They’re either doing it for the media exposure or for the money. The majority of them have made it clear that they aren’t doing it for the sake of discovery. I do kind of wish you were here in all honesty. Jonah is interested in what we’re looking for, but it always takes some convincing with him. With you, you’re always on board immediately. And, according to the others, you share the same level of enthusiasm as me. I guess I never really noticed it.
“Which is honestly a bit of a surprise. I know I can get a bit…aggressive about these things, or obsessive. People tell me I start getting picky about things once I realize they don’t have the same interests and intentions as me. And Sam wonders why I don’t like hanging out with other people.”
She laughed softly to herself, skimming over her words before she continued writing.
“Except you, of course. I wish I could bring you along with me to these expeditions, but I’m just…worried Trinity is going to get to you somehow, and aside from Jonah, you’re the only one I have left. If they got ahold of you, I don’t know what I’d do with myself. I’ve lost too many people already. I can’t lose you too.”
A small pause. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself during these trips anymore. Before she had met [Y/N], she had gotten used to sleeping alone and spending the majority of her time alone. She could go on journeys without worrying about returning home to someone. She didn’t want to die, that wasn’t what she was thinking of. She just didn’t feel guilty about trips taking longer than she initially planned. Deep down, though, she knew [Y/N] understood. Each time she’d make it home to her girlfriend, she was always greeted with relief and excitement rather than annoyance and resentment.
During the nights where she was alone on the expeditions, she could eventually get herself to fall asleep for short periods of time, pretending she was back home in bed with her girlfriend, cuddled up together under the blankets and sleeping in.
Another thing she had to readjust to was doing things solo. The only thing she tended to do on her own at the manor anymore was paperwork. [Y/N] would do everything with her there: researching, reading, cleaning, taking trips to different cities, and so on and so forth. She had grown so accustomed to that to where she found herself itching to talk to someone or move around at the campsites when she used to just sit there and think to herself.
She genuinely enjoyed the idea of having someone to come home to every time, but it still caused guilt when anything went wrong. There was a near-constant worry that her job was straining the relationship, regardless of what [Y/N] told her.
She had never been in a relationship before, so she really had no idea what to expect. It was stressful trying to learn how to open up to someone, but once she realized she could fully trust [Y/N], she found it much easier to start talking about her past.
Another sigh slipped past her lips, her gaze dropping down to the page of her journal again.
“I can’t wait to get home to you again. And honestly, I never thought I’d be able to say that. With how often I’m traveling, I figured I wouldn’t find someone who was willing to put up with my constant researching and preparing. I suppose I could take you on easier trips where I know Trinity won’t be. I could teach you how to go rock climbing and the basics of how to survive out in the wilderness.”
A sense of fondness washed over her, remembering how Roth would take her backpacking and traveling to random places so she could learn all of his tricks.
“If Roth were still here, I bet I could’ve convinced him to let you come with us to one of our training expeditions. He loved teaching all about journeying. He probably would’ve talked your ear off the way he did with me.”
Once more, a soft laugh escaped her.
“I’d honestly give anything to hear him lecture me about trusting my instinct again. You would’ve loved him. He was a good man.”
She studied her entry, repeatedly skimming over Roth’s name scribbled out in her shaky handwriting. 
“I wish you could’ve met him.”
She frowned at the memory of what happened in Yamatai, guilt beginning to bubble up to the surface again. She sighed, trying to shift her focus to something else.
“I can’t wait to get back home to you. I miss you. Hopefully I’ll be able to see you sooner rather than later. I already want to come back just so I can be with you again. I love you.”
Gently, she shut her journal and tucked it away again, dropping her pen in on top of it before zipping the bag shut. Once she placed the bag to her side, she shifted to turn back to the fire, which had grown to a decent size. Her unfocused gaze watched the flames in front of her dance wildly to the bitterly cold gusts of wind. Soon, as she waited for Jonah to call her over, her mind wandered off, her body shivering, aching, and craving to be in her warm, plush bed by [Y/N]’s side again.
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The expedition finally came to an end. Unfortunately, it had taken an extra three days thanks to Trinity’s operation disrupting everything. Lara was returning home with another artifact, one which she planned to donate to a local museum instead of adding to her personal collection. She asked Jonah to drop the artifact off for her, her expression alone telling him all he needed to know. He agreed, knowing she just wanted to get home to [Y/N] again and rest. Once the plane landed and they disembarked with their luggage, Lara instantly found her car still parked in a private garage she had paid for ahead of time.
She hopped in instantly after tucking her small amount of luggage into the trunk, started the engine, and sped off toward her home. The majority of the drive there, she reflected on what had happened during the expedition. Although she had been in a warm environment for hours on the way back, she still felt chilled to the bone after swimming in glacial waters for hours on end. All she craved was to get home and warm all the way up so she could sleep comfortably, even though she knew the moment the numbness subsided, her joints would ache even more.
Once she finally arrived, she parked her car in her usual spot and headed inside, completely forgetting about the bags in the trunk. Her body felt like it would collapse any minute, so she was desperately trying to get inside and find [Y/N].
With a great deal of effort, straining the aching muscles in her arms and back, she shoved the main door open leading into the front parlor. Before any of the servants could lead her somewhere to get her injuries treated or get changed into warmer clothes, Lara made a beeline to the stairs leading up to the second floor of the main building. She wobbled down the hall to her bedroom door, weakly pushing it open with a small grunt of pain. She didn’t spot [Y/N] in the bedroom right away, so she checked the bathroom attached to it.
She wasn’t there either. Odd.
With a groan, she forced herself to trudge back out of the room and down the hall, planning to check the library next. And if she wasn’t there, she’d search the main study. Before she could make it to the doorway leading to the library, [Y/N] stepped out carrying a couple of books. When she spotted Lara, her face lit up, excitedly placing the books aside on a nearby console table and rushing over to the brunette. At the sight of [Y/N] heading her direction, a small surge of energy bolted through Lara’s senses. She beamed over at her and opened her arms, sighing in relief when the smaller woman leaned heavily into her embrace.
“Lara, you’re back! How was the trip? Find anything good?”
Lara grinned wider at her enthusiasm–a breath of fresh air to have someone show genuine interest in her own passion. “Yeah, we found an old artifact, but I told Jonah to just go donate it to the local museum. I don’t have much space left on the shelves in my study, and I don’t want to clutter our room with them.” [Y/N] chuckled at her words, a small nod as her response as they remained in their embrace a moment longer.
At length, much to Lara’s dismay, [Y/N] leaned back. One hand dropped down to gently take hold of the brunette’s, and the other lifted to cup her cheek. At the feeling of warmth against her face, Lara leaned into the touch, her eyes shutting as she sighed. “C’mon,” [Y/N] started softly with a warm smile, “let’s get you patched up and changed. Then you can get some sleep.” Before she could try to refute, Lara yawned and nodded, wearily following the smaller woman’s lead as she carefully tugged her toward the bedroom again.
Once in there, she sat Lara down on the bed, retrieved the First Aid kit from the medical cabinet in the bathroom, and joined her on the mattress, which the brunette seemed to immediately sink into. She pulled out a damp rag she had also grabbed and began to dab cautiously at the scratches and cuts littered across Lara’s skin. When she began to apply the antiseptic, she earned a few hisses of pain, though they quickly died down with each passing second. All the while, Lara’s eyelids were growing heavier. She did her best to bite back her yawns, though most of them still snuck through.
After cleaning all of the visible marks, [Y/N] stitched up what she needed to, and applied bandages to what was left. She quickly packed the kit back up and stored it in the bathroom once more. Then, she helped Lara head into the bathroom and get undressed, helping her step into the bath when the warm water filled up enough. Once the brunette was situated and comfortable, [Y/N] took her hair down for her and began to rinse and lather it with the shampoo she had set up beforehand. Once her hair was clean, she then washed Lara’s back, shoulders, and mostly everything but her stomach, legs, and mostly whatever was underneath the water, which she let the Croft do on her own.
By the time Lara was clean and wrapped up in a towel after stepping out of the tub, [Y/N] left and came back in carrying a pair of clothes that had just been pulled out from the dryer. She gave the brunette a bit of privacy to get dressed. Lara hummed contentedly at the warm, soft fabric brushing across her skin: a pair of black fleece pants with a slightly oversized gray t-shirt.
She stood after tugging her clothes on. After folding the towel back up enough to hang on the rack on the wall, she flipped the lightswitch off and left the bathroom, finding [Y/N] standing by the bed with a tray in her hands. Curiously, Lara walked over and sat down at the foot of the bed with an eyebrow raised. Before she could question what it was, [Y/N] moved to hand the tray to her, revealing her favorite dish warmed up and placed nicely on a plate.
At the sight of it, she blinked, and soon looked back up at her girlfriend, who had moved to her own side of the bed. “Go ahead and eat. I wanted you to have something in your stomach so it doesn’t growl and wake you up like last time.”
With a pleased grin, Lara nodded and shifted up to her spot in bed to prop herself up against the headboard. She was quick to pick up her fork and dig into the dish, clearly grateful to have something prepared for her instead of needing to fix something for herself the way she had done the past few days in the wilderness. It saved her a lot of time and energy, all of which she could spend on recovering from the trip. Within minutes, the plate was clean and her cup was empty. She moved to get up and bring it to the kitchen downstairs, but [Y/N] was quick to stop her and take it from her hands. “Hey, no, go ahead and stay here, alright? I really just want you to relax for a while.”
Even if Lara had planned on refusing the help, it would’ve been no use, as [Y/N] was already by the door by the time she finished speaking. She quickly slipped out of the room, leaving Lara there to wait. She hadn’t even had a chance to nod. She sighed, shuffling downward to bundle up underneath the thick blankets layering her mattress and tugging them partially over her head. The moment her head made contact with her pillow, she groaned in relief, the plush surface welcoming her and pulling her into a partial slumber already.
She fought to stay awake a little longer, however, wanting to be cuddled up against [Y/N] as she slept so she could hear her heartbeat. Ever since the two had started sharing the bed, that’s how Lara fell asleep. It’s why going on long expeditions was so difficult sometimes–she had no heartbeat to listen to, no breathing she could hear but her own, and no warmth to lean into when she got a chill or had a strange dream that kept her eyes pried open in alarmed confusion. Another yawn pushed past her lips, her eyes slowly fluttering shut. Just as she was close to being lulled into sleep, the bedroom door creaked open again. [Y/N] stepped inside and turned the lights off, then headed over to the windows and closed all the heavy curtains, leaving a very dull light in the room.
She then crawled into her side of the bed, though she was quickly met with Lara scooting over and pressing her head against her chest, planting her ear directly over the girl’s sternum to hear the steady thumping of her heartbeat resting safely behind her ribs. A sigh of relief made its way from Lara. She wriggled over a bit, nuzzled her face further into the blankets, and finally settled for a position. With a small smile, [Y/N] rolled over just enough to wrap both of her arms around the brunette’s torso. She pulled her closer as softly as she could.
“Did you wanna talk about the trip?” She whispered softly. A bit of a delay, but Lara answered with a small shake of her head. “No,” she murmured almost inaudibly. “Maybe tomorrow.” [Y/N] nodded in response. She slid one of her arms over a bit, earning a groan of disapproval, though it was quickly replaced by an even fainter groan of pleasure once her fingernails began to gently rake through Lara’s brunette locks. [Y/N] repeated this motion for a while before changing to let her nails scratch soothingly at the sore muscles of the taller woman’s back. “Mmm, what about you?” Lara finally managed to slur out after a few minutes.
[Y/N] hummed, confused. “What about me?” She questioned quietly. Again, there was a pause before she got a response. “What about your day? Tell me…about your day.”
“Oh. Well, it wasn’t very eventful, to be honest. I just helped some of the maids and then read a few books. That’s why I was leaving the library when you made it in.”
“Mmh.”
Lara groaned and shuffled even closer. “I missed you so much,” she whispered. [Y/N] beamed down at her, pure adoration in her eyes. “I missed you too.” She pressed a kiss to the brunette’s forehead, to which Lara responded by scrunching up her nose and leaning her head forward, wordlessly asking for another one. The smaller woman complied after letting a gentle giggle slip in between breaths and pressed a longer kiss to Lara’s head, earning a small huff of satisfaction.
For a while longer, [Y/N] continued to talk about whatever came to mind. Lara wasn’t entirely listening, she just wanted to hear her voice, but [Y/N] already knew that. She didn��t mind. She could talk about seeing a bird on the window sill, and Lara would still find it calming solely because she could hear her speaking. She could hear the low rumbling and vibrations in her chest with every word spoken, and on top of the sound of her heartbeat, it was like the ultimate white noise for Lara.
She wasn’t entirely sure why it brought her so much comfort, but she certainly wasn’t complaining. It helped her fall asleep and stay asleep, which is something she struggled with for the longest time. Being able to get a proper night’s rest felt so refreshing.
Especially after having to be on high alert and sleep lightly for weeks on end during most of her journeys.
After a while, [Y/N] ran out of things to talk about. However, knowing that hearing her make noise was what helped Lara fall asleep, she opted to sing softly instead. An hour or so must’ve passed before Lara’s breathing deepened and slowed, evening out as her body signaled she was fully asleep. After finishing the song she had been practically humming at that point, [Y/N] stopped singing. When she fell silent, her own eyes beginning to droop from fatigue, Lara tugged her closer, unconsciously trying to find the source of the noise again. She settled after a moment when her hearing focused in on her heartbeat once more.
She mumbled something under her breath, though the blankets muffled most of it. The other half of the incoherent speech was caused by her lack of conscience. [Y/N] didn’t mind it though. Finally being able to hold Lara safely in her arms again after two and a half weeks was all she had been wanting. She glanced down at her, smiling tiredly and pressing a gentle kiss to her head again before yawning and closing her eyes.
Soon enough, she fell into a deep slumber as well.
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The following morning, the sun crept in through the blinds, alerting everyone of its wake. Bright golden beams trailed their way into the bedroom, sneaking up the covers and making Lara suddenly aware of her surroundings again. She grumbled, calloused fingertips grasping at the hem of the comforter that had slipped from over her head and tugging upward, desperately trying to block out the warmth that stirred her awake. It had been years–until she met [Y/N], anyway–since she had been able to sleep in peacefully without the overwhelming worry of needing to constantly accomplish something. She wanted to stay asleep at least long enough to finish her dream.
For a moment, she smirked to herself, noticing just how soft she had gotten once her relationship had been established with the other woman. Had they never met, nor had they gotten as close as they did, she’d likely still be awake at this hour, buried away in her personal study with stacks of books and loose files strewn about.
With a sense of bitter hesitation, one in which she debated falling back into the dream she had been having just a moment prior–which thankfully wasn’t another nightmare keeping her awake–she let her weary eyes flutter open. A small shove downward let the covers fall free from over her head again, begrudgingly allowing the sunlight to caress her features in a more willing manner. A sigh of relief slipped past her lips once she was able to let her eyes adjust to the blazing beams of light dancing around with each small movement.
After a moment of gaining her bearings, she yawned, drowsily rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes as she shifted over to find [Y/N] still resting at her side. The corners of her lips perked up into a small smile of contentment at the sight. She hummed, shuffled up to let her head rest even in front of [Y/N]’s, and gazed over at her.
The light that had disturbed Lara of her rest now brought her a sense of peace. The warm glow of the amber streaks lighting up the room seemed to embrace every little mark across [Y/N]’s skin, highlighting each scar and stray freckle. Never before had she seemed so at ease in her slumber–or maybe Lara had been too focused on holding her close to have noticed. She noticed it now, though.
And she intended to savor every minute of it.
Moments passed, and her hands were itching to feel the softness of the woman’s skin. With a slight ounce of uncertainty, worried she might stir her awake, she finally lifted her hand from the spot on the mattress next to her and drove it up to let the backs of her fingers graze over [Y/N]’s cheek, huffing out a small sigh at the warmth as though she hadn’t been pressed tightly against her mere moments before.
Her fingers trailed up to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind the sleeping woman’s ear, slowly and silently shuffling forward to press a featherlike kiss to her forehead. At the feeling of soft lips and touches against her skin, [Y/N] began to wake, her brows furrowing together momentarily in thought, as if she were stuck between her dreams and lucidity. Her features softened just as quickly as they tightened, followed by her eyes flitting open and instantaneously focusing on the smitten gaze in front of her. She hummed, grinning and letting her hand slide up to gently take hold of Lara’s. With a small squeeze to her lax hand, [Y/N] turned her head to press an equally soft kiss to her palm.
“Morning,” she murmured against her skin, letting her focus flicker back toward the deep brown eyes now somehow filled with even more love than before.
“Morning,” came her faint reply.
“Are you feeling better now that you’ve slept?” Lara grinned, nodding almost unnoticeably. She carefully slipped her hand from [Y/N]’s, then letting it trail down to the smaller woman’s hip. Once moving a bit closer, as well as shuffling back down further into the comforter, she wrapped both arms around [Y/N]’s waist, tugging her closer and letting her head fall against her chest. Once [Y/N]’s chin moved to rest atop the brunette’s head, Lara sighed, her eyes fluttering shut once more. “Yes, but if I’m being completely honest, my entire body is aching right now. So much happened before I got back.”
She chuckled, wincing to herself at the sudden jolt of pain that erupted from the nerves in the skin taut against her stomach. “I don’t know if I can physically get up yet. Or if I'll be able to at all today.”
A playful snicker sounded above her, prompting her to lift her head and look up at [Y/N]. “Are you sure that’s why? Or do you just want to stay in bed and cuddle like this for the day?” Lara rolled her eyes with a smirk of her own. “I’m telling you: every single muscle in my body is painfully sore. I could get up if I absolutely needed to, but I don’t, so I’d really just prefer to stay here.”
With a moment in between the playful banter, Lara dropped her head back against [Y/N]’s chest. She waited, pondering what she wanted to say as her nails gently scratched at the soft fabric of the shirt she leaned against, sighing silently at the feeling of the motion being reciprocated in a far more soothing way. As she focused on [Y/N] tracing random shapes and words against her scarred skin, subconsciously wondering if she could make out anything specific if she focused, she closed her eyes.
“But even if I somehow wasn’t sore like I am now, I’d absolutely want to stay like this for the day. I missed you,” although her voice had already started off gentle, her tone only seemed to drift further into silence. Whether it stemmed from sheepishness or fatigue, [Y/N] didn’t know. She didn’t mind it, however, and instead pulled her closer. “I missed you too. So very much.”
She paused, one of her hands stroking the brunette strands sprawled out on the mattress behind Lara as her brow creased in thought. “I do worry about you though,” she admitted after what felt like hours, not sure if Lara was still even awake at the moment or if she had heard her. She had, however, and was quick to gaze back up at her, partially hidden way beneath the comforter. Her eyes, which had just been staring at her with a mix of blissful fatigue and love, were now a concoction of bleary concern and confusion. “Why?”
“Because sometimes I worry that something is going to happen to you while you’re away, and I’m never going to know. I mean, I know you won’t go down without a fight, but I’m still terrified that there will be a day where I see you alive for the last time. That thought alone plagues my mind every single time you leave, and it just…scares me?” She scoffed. “No, it’s so much more than just feeling scared. I’m terrified beyond belief that a thought like that could somehow become a reality.”
She hadn’t realized she had begun rambling until Lara shifted up to be eye-level with her again, a far more serious expression taking over. With her features creased with concern, Lara cupped [Y/N]’s face, the pads of her thumbs stroking away the tears that she hadn’t even realized had fallen. When had she started crying?
“I promise you I’m never going to let that happen, alright? There’ve been so many times I shouldn’t have been able to survive, but I did. Like you said: I won’t go down without a fight. And now that I have you here, I have all the more reason to fight to stay alive. I couldn’t bear the thought of never coming home to you. Just…don’t ever worry about me not coming home, okay? One way or another, I’ll find a way to get back to you.”
Her tone softened with every passing word, her heart and mind filling with relief upon seeing a gentle smile grace [Y/N]’s lips. She returned her grin and leaned forward to rest their foreheads together. “Even if it means I have to admit to Jonah that I’m wrong,” she added with a fake annoyance and a small roll of her eyes. [Y/N] couldn’t help but chuckle at her words, allowing Lara to finally let out a small sigh of solace.
“I wouldn’t trade my time with you for anything,” she reassured, trading roles and pulling [Y/N] into her chest instead. “Not for an artifact, not for a trip to some uncharted land, not for my studies, not for anything. I know I may not be the best at showing it, but I truly love you, [Y/N]. I promise you that I’ll always find my way back to you.”
At her reassurance, [Y/N] nuzzled closer to focus in on her heartbeat, unable to bite back the wide smile that stretched across her lips. “I love you too,” she whispered.
Her words were true, she just wished she could find a way to prove it to her every day. Regardless of how invested she could get in her studies or research for her next expedition somewhere far away, she wouldn’t trade these moments of serenity for the world. She treasured them far more than any artifact she had discovered, and would do anything to ensure more of those memories could be made. Not even the strongest forces out there would stop her from returning to the one person she could call home, and she vowed, one way or another, to make sure it stayed that way for good.
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dancingtotuyo · 4 months
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3. pick up your clothes and curl your toes
Woman | Joel Miller
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Series Rating: Mature/Explicit
Chapter Summary: You and Joel settle into a routine.
Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (Reader is 42, Joel is 56). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.
Chapter Warnings: swearing, talks of & references to grief, death (child and spouse), and suicide. Anxiety. Reader has a panic attack. consumption of alcohol. Angst. Hurt. Comfort. SMUT. Explicit sex (P in V). Unprotected sex. Oral Sex (F receiving). Let me know if I missed anything.
Note: THANK YOU TO MY BEAUTIFUL BETA READERS @planet-marz1 @pamasaur & @kajashe
Words: 8926
Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist
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THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT AND IS INTENDED FOR READERS 18 YEARS AND OLDER. MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT OR READ.
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Joel Miller is going to hell in a handbasket. He already was, but this is the seal on the envelope, the pretty red ribbon tied neatly around it. He felt relieved that your husband is dead. What kind of person feels relief over someone’s misfortune? Their grief? A bad one. A person headed straight for the gates of hell. 
He lets out a huff of air, staring at the spinning ceiling fan. He tries not to think of you across the street, laying in bed in that fucking matching pajama set, but with most things the harder you try not to think of them, the more it’s at the forefront of your mind. The picture of your legs in those shorts jumps to his mind. He remembers those fleeting charged moments from tonight. Desire stirs in his gut drifting downward. 
He groans, flipping onto his stomach. He buries his head in the twenty-something-year-old pillow as he takes deep steadying breaths. He won’t do this. It can’t happen. You’re a friend. A connection to the past. A connection to his Sarah. He’s not gonna fuck that up. 
He falls asleep definitely not thinking of you and that fucking pajama set. Pictures of you definitely don’t invade his dreams. Joel Miller can only see you as a friend, and friends don’t do the things he does to you behind his eyelids. 
The next evening, Joel finds himself hardly waiting on his steps, worried he missed you until you step out tonight in jeans and a sweater. For that, he’s all too grateful. A smile stretches across your face. He stands his lips tipping upward as he meets you in the middle of the road once again. 
“Howdy, neighbor,” Joel says. 
You push back the small shiver that runs down your spine. You chalk it up to the lower temperatures. “Look at you, adjusting to the Jackson way of life.”
“Learnin from the best, Sweetheart.”
The chills hit again and you chalk it up to the chill. Spring is breaking through, but winter still clings to the darkening air. You settle in your route. The crunch of Joel’s steps is familiar next to you, comforting even in the silence between the two of you. 
It’s Joel who speaks first tonight. “It’s weird,” he says. He’s more eager to talk tonight.  “Being here- safe. I keep expectin’ raiders to ride in or infected to pop out.” He looks over at a small cluster of trees. 
“It takes a long time.” You watch the sun creep down, closing the gap between it and the mountain tops. “I’m not sure when it happened but one morning I just realized I’d stopped looking over my shoulder or listening for footsteps.” 
“It happens though?” He asks. You catch a glimmer of hope in his eyes. It barely peeks through the weariness he wears like a badge. 
“Eventually.”
“Not that I ever thought it was an option, but I’m not sure I wanted to find peace- to be still like this again.”
You cock your head to the side, but you don’t have to shed a word for him to tell you more. 
“Spending life on the run was easy. Always lookin’ toward the next haul, the next run. Didn’t leave any time for thinking.”
You nod. You understand from the other side. You lived alone for years, wild, haunted by your friends, rattling around an empty house with only your thoughts and memories. Somehow, you’d found peace here, a family even. 
“What about now?” You ask. 
On good days, you can push back the when of it all. When will the world take another person from you in a new way crueler than the last? When will your son’s innocence be stripped away? When will it be you who’s taken? On the bad days, you shut yourself in your room, only to be dragged out by Carter’s small voice or Maria cooking in your kitchen. Today is an especially good day. 
Joel studies the horizon. He takes in a hawk riding the air currents. It all mingles together in his chest: the grief, the joy, the pain, the acceptance. It’s hard to put words to it. “It still hurts. Can’t even say it hurts less… but I don’t fight it anymore. I think making room for someone else helped.” 
You bite your lip. A pang shoots through your heart. You fight to push the door to your heart closed. You can allow him to exist in your life, but anything more than neighbors is too much. You think you feel the door latch, but you don’t catch Joel’s foot wedged in the door jam. 
“How did you and Ellie cross paths?”
Joel spends the rest of your walk recounting his and Ellie’s adventures across the United States. You find yourself hanging on every description. You didn’t travel a lot before the world ended. Your parents had been die-hard Texans. You weren’t sure your dad had left state lines before meeting your mom. There were the yearly trips to your grandparents' house in the mountains surrounding Jackson, one trip to Disney World in 8th grade, and you’d gone to Mexico for spring break your junior year of college. That encapsulated your traveling days. 
After Joel tells you about Silver Lake, he stops in his tracks. You look back at him. He’s staring at the darkening horizon again. His eyes gloss over. “When things like that happen- I find myself relieved that she’s not here- that she doesn’t have to go through it- do all the shit we do.”
You suck in a breath. In some ways you understand it. As a parent who willingly brought a child into this world, you often wonder if it was the right choice or just a selfish one. You nod. 
“And then I feel guilty all over again. Because I would give anything to have her next to me, and see her smile. I mean, what kind of parent is relieved their child isn’t alive?” 
You give the words a minute to roll through your head. You’re not sure of the best words because there really are none, but you pull from your own experience. 
“I think that’s the reality of being a parent in this world. You feel guilty if they’re here because the world is fucked up, but you feel guilty if you’re relieved they’re not.”
Joel makes eye contact with you. “Bein’ around you makes me feel closer to her.” 
Joel is not sure where the confession comes from. He barely talked to you before last night and hasn’t seen your face in 20 years, yet the words just slip out. Something in him says you’re safe and he thinks maybe, he might just have room for you too. The air between you charges like it did the night before.
It sends a hum of electricity through your veins. It’s one you recognize all too well. It feels good and exciting, the thrum of desire, but it’s dangerous. It’s something you cannot afford. You look away, breaking the connection, but mellowing currents still wrack over your body in waves.
“You raised a really great kid, Joel.” You force a smile. “and the world fucking sucks.” You kick at the dirt as everyone’s faces flash behind your eyes. 
“You helped.” 
Your head snaps back up, confusion on your brow. “I doubt that.”
“It’s true.” The memories flood to the surface- the ones you forget exist in the depths of your mind drowned by years of survival and trauma. “You helped her with all that stuff I was too awkward to boys, her period, shopping for her 7th grade banquet. I would’ve sent her in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.”
“I don’t think Sarah would’ve let you do that.” You manage a laugh. You appreciate Joel’s attempts to make you feel better even when he’s hurting. There’s a beauty to the way sadness and laughter coexist in the space the two of you create. 
Joel shrugs. “I’m just saying, you helped. A lot. Even if you don’t realize it.” 
“You should give yourself more credit.”
“So should you,” he says, eyebrows raising. 
You fight against the smile that wants to sprout on your face. He’s just as stubborn as you remember and probably more. 
As your walk draws to an end, you find yourself searching for anything to draw it out. You watch him walk up his porch steps, desperate to keep him in the street with you but his door shuts before you find the words. 
Joel joins you the next night and the night after that, and the night after that it rains. You catch the disappointment, trying to let it go. Carter won’t settle, too intent on watching the rain hit the window. After 30 minutes, you give up, pulling a light sweatshirt over his head. 
“You wanna sit out on the porch?”
Carter nods and you kiss his forehead. You see the sleepiness in his eyes, but you don’t have the energy to force him to sleep tonight. He grabs his two toy cars following behind you. You pull the blanket off the couch, opening the front door. 
“Oh my god.” You jump, heart rate spiking for a second. Carter runs into the back of your legs, promptly falling to his bottom. 
Joel Miller stands in front of you with a sheepish look on his face. “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to startle you.”
You turn around, picking your toddler off the floor. “You just hanging around on stranger’s porches now?” A grin starts to crowd the edges of your smile. 
“I’d hardly call you a stranger, Sweetheart.” Joel grins. 
That familiar feeling begins to seep through your chest, making you feel like a college student and not a woman in her 40s. Before it can completely overtake you, you push it down, clearing your throat. 
“I don’t think you’ve gotten the chance to meet Carter yet.” You nod toward your son.
Carter waves. “Hi.”
Joel smiles back at him. “Nice to meet you, little man.”
Carter holds out his toy cars for Joel to admire. Joel’s eyes glance over the faded and chipped paint of the old Hotwheels. “Those are very nice.” 
Carter looks toward you with a big grin. He’s a kid of few words but big expressions. You smile back with a nod and he slides out of your arms.
“He wouldn’t go to sleep so we came out to watch the rain.” You hesitate a minute, but the pull of Joel’s familiarity wins out. “You’re welcome to join us. The porch swing is a little rickety, but it does the trick.”
“I was hoping you’d want some company.” Joel pulls a bottle of dark liquor from under his arm. You notice his rain-damp hair and shoulders for the first time. A few droplets slide down his curls.
“You getting used to me, Joel Miller?”
“You could say that.” He cocks his head to the side, smirk playing on his lips. 
You turn your head so he doesn’t catch your own grin, but he does anyway. Spreading the blanket on the porch for Carter to play on, you disappear inside grabbing a couple of glasses. 
When you come back, Joel is on his hands and knees with Carter, both making race car noises with their lips. It knocks the wind from you, and you brace against the door frame. You’d imagined this lost moment a thousand times. Sometimes you swore you could see Gabe sitting on the floor with Carter, the proudest smile on his face, but this is real and it’s not Gabe. 
Carter makes a screeching noise, learning them from some racing movie they showed a few weeks ago, crashing his car into Joel’s. Joel makes his cart flip over and combust into flames. Carter laughs. There’s a piece of your heart that seems to mend, and another that seems to break. Gabe feels further away, a more distant past. Yet, you’re focused on what’s in front of you. 
When Joel catches you watching, he smiles, says something to Carter, and rises to his feet. It feels like a scene from a movie where you don’t hear anything, but the single look is the most significant part. 
Joel says something, taking the glasses from your hands. His lips move but you don’t hear him. His back is turned before you realize it, shaking your head to wake up your senses. “Sorry- what did you say?”
Joel chuckles, pouring a couple of fingers of whiskey into each glass. He hands one to you. “I said, I’m getting too old to get on the ground like that.”
You accept the glass, letting the liquid warm you. This feels so easy, too easy. It sends warning bells through your head, but you don’t want to deal with them. They're too easy to push away in Joel’s familiar presence. 
“You didn’t have to.” You move to the end of your porch, easing onto the swing. 
Joel’s eyes inspect the old swing with years of training before he decides it will hold for one night and settles next to you. “Nah- it was fun. I haven’t played cars in a long time.” 
You take a sip of the whiskey to hide your grin. 
“He doesn’t look a thing like you.” Joel teases. 
“Spitting image of his father.” You laugh. “Gabe always said his genetics would win out. I can only imagine the gloating I would’ve heard from him.” 
“He never knew him?”
You shake your head. “Gabe was infected while out on patrol when I was 7 months pregnant.” 
You leave it at that. You don’t expound on one of the darkest times of your life, and Joel doesn’t ask. He’s being trained for patrol now. He knows a bite earns you a bullet in the head and your body burnt to a crisp. You sip from the glass, taking a little too much whiskey. It burns away the tears. 
“I don’t know how you did it,” Joel says. You turn to meet his gaze, eyebrows raised. “Survive out here all those years alone. I wouldn’t have made it.”
“You did.”
Joel shakes his head. “No, I had Tommy and some friends along the way. And that almo- it wasn’t enough.” 
He turns away subconsciously presenting his profile. You catch the scar on his temple. You’d never given it much stock until now. It hits you like a brick to the chest. Your fingers drift toward it, brushing over the old wound. 
“After Sarah died- I didn’t see much point in going on.” His eyes land on yours again. Your fingers stay. “I flinched when I pulled the trigger. Missed”
He searches your eyes for judgment but finds none. He’s certain all he finds is understanding, a silent assurance that you know that hopeless feeling too. 
Your fingers edge toward his hairline. The rain seems to fall heavier around you, creating a mist under the overhang, but it all seems far away with Joel Miller right in front of you. You’re both still, scared to spook the other, waiting for a sign you refuse to give yourself. 
“Joel!” Clumsy footsteps clamber up the wooden steps to your home. Ellie appears with a lopsided grin and soaked hair. “You’ll never guess what I traded for, morherfucker.”
The tension snaps away until nothing. The space on the porch swing is seemingly greater than ever. 
Joel raises an eyebrow at her, arms crossed over his chest. 
Carter looks up at the intruder, taking stock before returning his attention to his cars. 
“Oh, what? Did I interrupt something?” 
“No,” you say, possibly too fast. You don’t leave time to consider what was potentially interrupted. You latch on to Ellie’s joy instead. “What did you get?” You ease back, casting Joel a teasing look. He doesn’t look your way this time.
“I knew I liked you, Nurse… er- Lady.”
Joel opens his mouth to supply your name but you beat him to it. “That’s me, Nurse Lady.” 
Carter points at you. “Mommy.”
Ellie looks you dead in the eye. “I’m not calling you that.” 
You laugh. 
“What did you get, Ellie?” Joel asks, a little more give in his frame than a few seconds ago. 
Ellie pulls a big, atlas-looking book from under her damp sweatshirt. “It’s pictures of space! Ones I haven’t seen before!” 
“Space?” Carter’s head shoots up and a smile spreads across your face. 
“Yeah!” Ellie exclaims, opening the book toward him. “See! Isn’t it cool?”
Carter ventures toward the new person carrying a book of great interest to him. “You like space too?”
He nods, watching with wide eyes for a few more pages, and then grabs Ellie’s hand, pulling her toward his blanket. “Sit.”
She listens and Carter climbs into her lap. “More.”
Ellie laughs. “Sure thing, bud.”
You go to tell Ellie that she doesn’t have to listen to the two-year-old. She can take her book home and enjoy it in peace, but you stop yourself. Something tells you that Ellie wouldn’t stay if she didn’t want to. She reads the words in the book with the same fascination that shines in Carter's young eyes until he falls asleep. 
Joel stays next to you, the swing creaking rhythmically, the moment hidden away from the rest of Jackson by the cover of rain and a setting sun. 
You and Joel go back to walking the next evening. 
A couple of days later, Maria sits at your kitchen table when you come in from your walk with Joel. A steaming cup of tea sits in front of her and another caddy corner from her. You furrow your brow. The last time she’d greeted you with tea was when she told you she was pregnant. This welcome was usually reserved for serious conversations. 
“Carter wake up?” You slide into the chair, taking the mug into your hands. 
“No, just wanted to talk to you. It’s been a couple of days.” She eases back, hand resting atop her swollen stomach. 
“I saw you at the clinic this morning.” You raise an eyebrow.
Now 7 months pregnant, you’ve monitored Maria and the baby closely. Tommy and Maria are so excited. You see it in their eyes every time it comes up. You’re trying your hardest not to let your fears cloud it, but you won’t be able to make it if something happens to Maria. 
“We haven’t really talked though. Not since Sunday at dinner and Tommy has the guys over for Poker tonight.”
“You miss me after 3 days? I thought I was the codependent one.” You smile up at her with a laugh.
Gabe would have called it a sparkly smile. Maria clocks it immediately, and it stays, lingering across your features. She gasps. She’s seen nothing but glimpses and flickers of it since his death and now here it is on full display.
“Did I grow a third head or something?” 
“No, just haven’t seen you like this in a while.”
“Like what?”
“Happy, Smiling.” Maria tilts her head to the side. “I thought I was imagining it this morning. Tommy mentioned it too.” 
“I smile.”
“Not the sparkly kind.”
You pause, heart clenching at the thought. You know it’s what Gabe would have wanted. He loved your sparkly smile- given it its name. It feels like it should feel wrong for someone else to bring that out of you, but it doesn’t. All he ever wanted was for you to be happy. 
“This have anything to do with your new walking partner?” Maria says over the lip of her mug. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You feign innocence, looking out the window. Joel’s porch light glows across the road. Your wedding band is cool against your fingertips as you twist it. A smile pushes against the borders of your lips. 
“You act like your route doesn’t cut directly through town and past everyone’s houses 3 times.” 
“We just walk together, Maria.” 
She raises a suggestive eyebrow. 
You roll your eyes. “Just walking.”
“More than walking is okay too.”
You cross your arms. “I thought you didn’t like Joel. It was all I heard about after he came through the first time.”
“He’s my brother-in-law. I have to try.” Maria bites her lip. “And he grows on you.”
You sigh trying to push away the thoughts that crowd your restless mind. Your attachment to him is beginning to feel inevitable like you never stood a chance because it had always been there. A holdover from before. It reminds you of the way you and Tommy bonded when he came to Jackson, that invisible tug from a former life tying you together, but there is something different with Joel. The all-encompassing crush from your early ears creeps up like a blush. You won’t say it lingered, but you know something is forming now as much as you try to ignore it. 
“Doesn’t matter. I’m not doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“This,” you motion around you. “Building a life with someone just for the world to rip it all away.”
“That’s not-“
“Not what, Maria? You know it will happen.”
“Might not.”
“Might happen tomorrow.” You square your shoulders. Joel goes on patrol for the first time tomorrow. It’s a short shift for him to get the lay of the land, but so was Gabe’s. you’re terrified, and you’re terrified to admit you’re terrified. 
She stares into your eyes with a still determination searching for any cracks to slip through as your impenetrable walls rise back up. All evidence of the sparkly smile is gone, erased from your face. Maria sighs, slowly rising to her feet, her cup of tea dried up. 
The two of you say nothing as she moves about your kitchen with easy familiarity. She’s moving slower these days and for good reason. It eases your anxiety to know that she’s listening to you in that department. 
She sets her cleaned mug on the dish wrack, drying her hands with a towel. You sip on your tea letting it warm you from within. It does nothing to ease your racing mind. 
Maria’s firm, caring touch lands on your shoulder, drawing your attention up toward her. You know she can see it behind your eyes. It’s that same wild look she saw in you when she met you. You can only hold her gaze for so long until you have to look away. She can see too much in you. 
Maria squeezes your shoulder. Her hands slide around your shoulders as she pulls your reluctant frame closer to her. She’s warm and comforting like a well-worn sweater. When her warm breath hits your temple followed by the soft kiss of a concerned parent or older sibling, you let your eyes flutter shut and inhale deeply. Your body relaxes as your sympathetic nervous system accepts the easy pressure of her embrace and your mind seems a little more quiet. You lean to the side, temple pressed to your best friend’s forehead. 
“I’ll see you at Sunday Dinner,” Maria says. She’s using her soothing mom voice, and it works. 
“Okay.”
She gives one more squeeze before releasing you. Your hands wrap back around the mug, searching for the warmth you lost. 
Maria grabs her coat. “Oh, I invited Joel and Ellie too.”
You snap your head around. Maria wears a knowing grin but gives you a shrug. “They’re family now.” 
You roll your eyes. Maria’s laugh is the last thing you hear before the front door clicks behind her. Silence falls over your home. When a tear falls from your eye, you swipe it away, stuffing down all the feelings rising to the surface. 
The next evening, Joel isn’t on his porch when you come out. The worry you’ve pushed down all day bubbles over before you can stop it. Your heart beats in your ears as you stare at Joel’s front door, hoping, praying it opens. In the minutes you watch for him, you beg the world for a sign that Joel is okay, nothing happens. The house is still with no signs of life. 
Anticipation melts to dread. They haven’t gotten back yet. That can only mean bad things. The same resolve hits you over and over. You can’t let this happen, not again. Stepping into the street, you try to go on as usual. Same path. Same pace, but the further you get from his front porch, the more you fight against the tug pulling you toward it- toward him. It wraps tight up your ankle like a vine. You think you can snap it with enough force and distance. 
Instead, it climbs your leg further, piercing through your stomach. It constricts around your lungs like a snake and its branches encircle your heart. Your breathing quickens and shortens until you can’t see more than 2 feet in front of you. You can’t do this. Can’t let this happen. Your fingers bite into a tree as you stumble forward, grasping for stability. Bark digs under your fingernails. A sob releases from your throat, the one that sounds otherworldly but you’re all too familiar with, and you realize it’s tears that blind you because you refuse to give the world another person to tear from your arms, yet you fear you already have. 
A warm hand lands on your back. You whip around in a fury of tears and ragged breathing. He recognizes it instantly. It’s the same look he used to see every time he looked in the mirror. He sucks in a breath and takes a step back. 
You think the space will make it easier to breathe, but the panic sets in deeper. You don’t want him to go. It’s not fair. You thought you were stronger, but it only took days for Joel Miller to demolish the walls you worked so desperately to build. He had pinpointed the weakness in them as if he’d built them himself and came in swinging. 
Your hand shoots out, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. You’re a dear in the headlights, unsure if you should flee for your safety or stay and get hit by what’s coming. 
Joel’s hand slowly covers yours. It’s warm. It settles your breathing. His heart beats under your palm a little faster than his calm demeanor lets on. 
You sniff back the tears. You realize you were so focused on the traps underfoot that you didn’t realize you walked right into the mouth of one from the very beginning. The moment you leaned into Joel’s familiarity, it snapped shut with no way out. Joel cautiously reaches out, swiping away the tears on one cheek. When you don’t shy away from his touch, he wipes away the others.
It’s a spacious trap. There’s room to roam around. You don’t feel confined, and Joel is in it with you. 
“I don’t have to walk with ya tonight.” His voice is quiet. His eyes are soft and understanding. “I understand if you need some space.” 
Despite offering you space, he squeezes your hand tighter and leans in, and godamnit, you like it. 
“No.” You shake your head. “Stay. I like the company.” 
His brow furrows. “You sure, Sweetheart?” 
“Yeah.” You nod. His shirt eases back around his chest now crinkled from your grip, but your hand stays. “Believe it or not, I enjoy having you around.” 
You force a smile. 
“Yeah…” He smiles softly. “Me too.” He takes a step backward. You ignore the soft pang in your chest at the increased distance. 
You and Joel settle back into the path as you have the past two nights, but he’s closer tonight. His shoulder brushes yours every so often. He keeps the conversation light. He doesn’t ask about your anxiety attack. 
At the end of your walk, Joel’s arm slides around your waist pulling you against his chest. Your breath catches as his other hand slides across your shoulder blades leaving a trail of fire behind it, landing at the base of your skull. He comes over you like a wave, heavy and disorienting when it hits but peaceful once it settles. Your eyes close, resting your head against his chest. 
His fingers knead slowly at your skull, releasing built-up tension. Sparks ignite low in your belly. You don’t try to extinguish them this time. 
“Sleep well, Sweetheart.” 
You swear you feel his lips on your forehead, but he’s gone before you have time to consider it further, back behind his door leaving you to wrestle with that moment all night. 
On Thursday morning, Joel works in the barn fixing the big swinging door when Tommy strides in. Joel is so focused on his craft, the long-forgotten feel of wood beneath his touch that he doesn’t catch the grin etched on his younger brother’s face. 
“What’s going on, big brother?” Tommy says with a prying tone.
“Can you hand me that hammer?” Joel says, sweat beading his forehead. 
Tommy chuckles, handing it to Joel. 
Joel turns an eye toward him. “You’re in a good mood.”
“A little birdie told me something.” 
Joel lifts an eyebrow. He doesn’t have time for Tommy’s antics. There’s a door to fix and he knows his brother gets more joy drawing things out. Joel does not. “What?”
“Oh come on- you have to guess.”
“Tommy, since when have I played along with your games?”
Tommy sighs. “Buzz kill.” 
Joel chuckles.
“Rumor has it, you’ve been walking around with a certain babysitter.”
Joel’s face falls stoic. “She’s not the babysitter anymore.” He sets down the tools with a sigh “What’s it to you?”
“Oh come on, Joel. Is that why she’s been smiling so much lately? You giving her a reason to smile?” Tommy grins.
Joel looks at Tommy through the corner of his eye. “You askin’ me if I’m fucking your dead buddy’s widow?”
It flashes across his face, the pain of losing someone so close before his smile is back in place. Joel doesn’t have time to feel bad for it. 
“Not to sound crass, but he’d be happy if you were.”
“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Joel lets the tool drop to the ground, giving in to Tommy. 
Tommy sighs. “When I came to Jackson, she smiled all the time. Reminded me of when we’d get back from a job and she and Sarah were up to no good.” Joel’s nods. He’d felt the same pull toward you. “Gabe- he kept her smiling. I know we’ve all been through some dark shit, but she went at it alone. Since his death, her smiles have been few and far between ‘til now. He didn’t want her to go back to how she was before. Told Maria that much.”
“Maria?”
“Yeah, they were out on patrol together when he got infected.” 
Hit stomach hit the ground. If Maria was with Gabe when-  “Shit,” Joel breathes. “I didn’t realize.”
“Yeah…” Tommy says but doesn’t let the silence linger. Gabe’s demise is still a sore subject for him. “Gabe, all he wanted was for her to be happy, for her to smile. You’re doing that, and it’s a big deal.”
Joel hopes his brother doesn’t catch the stutter in his breathing, the way his thoughts drift back to you. He doesn’t need anyone’s permission. You’re grown adults, but it’s there. Gabe wanted you to be happy- they all want you to be happy and somehow, he’s one of the people that does that. Tommy’s not judging him at the possibility of being interested in a woman 13 years his junior. If anything, he’s encouraging it. Joel feels easier and lighter. In it all, he realizes just how much he wants you. 
The following evening, Joel is almost embarrassed at how quickly he clocks the missing gold band on your left knuckle. His mind races with possibilities. He knows you don’t wear it when you work at the clinic, but he hasn’t seen you without it outside of the clinic. Granted, the only time he’s noticed was on your walks. Did you forget it? His heart leaps a little. Did you do it on purpose? And you’re wearing those damn matching pajamas again. The same ones that got him here in the first place. 
There’s something in the air tonight. The hairs on his arms stand on end. He walks closer to you. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or make things weird, but the whole time his eyes keep drifting back to your bare knuckle. What does it mean? And he wants to know if you feel the same. 
He can't feel the way your skin burns, heat exploding like fireworks across your body blooming and fizzling one after another. You’re tempted to pull him off your beaten path early, dragging him in front of the whole town across your threshold after just the first lap, but you resist and spend the next lap wondering if he’s walking closer tonight, talking slower tonight. Even the timbre of his voice seems to change, conveying the burning need of desire. Still, you hesitate to confirm it. Maybe you’re wrong about it all. What if you’re wrong about it all? 
Joel follows you to your porch tonight. Maria’s suggestive remarks fill your brain. More than walking is okay. It puts out any doubts filling your head. You glance up at Joel, you read it in his expressive eyes. Eyes you’ve come to know so well. You’re fighting the fire blazing its way through your body with logic and reasoning. Neither is good at fighting fires, and your limbs burn with desire.
Joel waits at the bottom of your porch steps. You rest against the support beam watching him with a careful eye. 
He gives you an easy smile. “I enjoy our walks.”
He makes no moves toward or away from you. He’s leaving this in your hands. You’re not naive. Just sex in this world comes with its own set of risks. It requires trust in a world without STD testing, treatment, and contraceptives. You’re still well within childbearing age. Maria’s pregnancy is a constant reminder, but you trust Joel. You always have.
He stands at the bottom of your porch steps, hands in his pockets as you lean against the support beam. He’s staring at you with that look you’ve caught glimpses of this past week but it’s on full display now, burning into you like a raging wildfire. 
You tip your head up, catching a glimpse of the moon under the awning. A smile plays on your lips. You’re buzzing like you’ve spent the evening sipping on cocktails at the bar. “I shouldn’t tell you this- but here we are.”
Joel’s eyebrows raise. “Tell me what?”
His voice is smooth and bold like a cup of morning coffee. You can taste it on your tongue- bitter but full of life. You laugh to cover up the embarrassment flooding to the surface, but you feel alive for the first time in a long time. You wonder if he’s seen the desire in your eyes too. You know it’s been there. You want him, and you intend to have him tonight.
“I had the biggest crush on you in high school and college.” 
Something about putting the words out there doesn’t seem as embarrassing as it did 5 seconds ago. You’re a grown-ass adult and that was 20 years ago. Joel chuckles and you join him again, laughing under the moonlight like he’s dropping you off after a first date and you’re playing with your keys. 
Joel’s boots hit the first step, hand gliding over the worn railing. “You did? Must’ve done a damn good job at hiding it.”
“Or maybe you were just blinder than a bat.” 
“Were you trying to make moves on me then?” Joel comes up the second step. His body heat is just out of reach. 
“No. Wouldn’t have been appropriate. I knew that much.”
Joel rises to your level. You can smell him now- pine. It's one of the three scents you can trade for in this town. You didn’t imagine differently. Joel didn’t strike you as a Lavender or Lemon kind of guy. His hand rests above your head as he invades your space. You feel his body heat close in. You stand straighter, meeting his searing gaze. The air is thick between you as your breathing deepens. 
“And what about now? Would it be appropriate now?” 
His voice is low and husky. Just how you imagined it would be all those years ago, but you still catch the hesitancy in his eyes, the restraint pulling at his throat. It sets a fire burning across your skin.
You step back, ducking out of his space. You miss his proximity immediately. You catch the slight embarrassment that flashes across Joel’s face. He looks around nervously like he didn’t just read the situation completely wrong. You feel almost bad as your hand touches the door knob and you look back at him.
“Are you gonna come in?” You open the door. He looks relieved. “I think the neighbors are gonna talk, but I’d rather keep them talking than put on a show.”
You turn your back to him crossing the threshold. You try to calm your beating heart. His boots are heavy on the porch. Before you can comprehend it, the front door shuts. The hardwood presses against your back, and Joel’s hands rest against the door on either side of your head. You feel the heat radiating off him, but he doesn’t touch you. Your hands hang in fists at your side refusing to touch him first. You meet his wild gaze. 
He leans in and heat rushes through your body settling in your core. You squeeze your legs together and wonder if he catches it. You tilt your chin up to meet his lips. They come so close but circle just out of your reach. His hot breath hits your ear making your toes curl. You want to fuss at him. You almost do, but resist. You’re wet and he has yet to touch you. 
“Tell me this is okay. Tell me you want this.” He’s still hovering, refusing to touch you.
Your head turns to meet his gaze. He thinks he’s doing something wrong. “Joel, I’m a 43-year-old woman, not some naive-”
“Tell me.” There’s a force behind it, a desperation. 
You look at his eyes, blow wide with lust. It shortens your breath. Your limbs feel heavy with need.
“I want you.”
He surges forward, lips crashing into yours. Your teeth nash against each other, but you don’t care. Threading your fingers in his thick curls, you pull him closer, craving him. Desire pumps through every ounce of your being.
His hand settles over your hip slipping under your pajama shirt. Your nipples harden as his hand glides over your skin, going up until he cups your breast. His thumb circles over your clothed nipple and you gasp into his mouth. He smirks pressing you further into the door. Your leg instinctively hooks over his hip and his hard cock presses against your core. 
“Joel.” You moan, moving your hips against him.
A moan falls off his lips as he sucks on your bottom lip. “You’re killing me, Sweetheart.”
He moves to your neck. His fingers wrap around the back of your thigh guiding your other leg around his waist. He squeezes your breast again and your legs squeeze around him. He bucks into you. 
Your head falls back granting him further access to your neck. You need to be out of your clothes. You want Joel out of his. You don’t care if it’s here or in your bedroom or somewhere else. It needs to happen and it needs to happen soon. 
Your fingers find the buttons of his shirt. There’s an urge to rip it open and let the buttons scatter across the floor like you’d seen in movies, but you don’t. Resource management is still essential even in the throws of passion. 
The first two pop open. He’s sucking on your neck, nipping like a herd dog. “You tryin' to mark me, Miller?” He pulls your Texas draw out like honey.
He doesn’t respond, teeth grazing your collarbone, making you gasp. His hips jut forward and his name rolls off your tongue. 
He pulls up your shirt, groaning when your sports bra comes into view. He’s not getting you out of that while you’re against the door. It’s like you can read his mind. “First door at the top of the steps.”
He glances up the staircase behind him. You think he’s gonna let your legs drop to the floor and drag you up the steps. Instead, his fingers dig into your ass. Before he can lift you away from the door, he realizes you’re not wearing underwear under your thin pajama shorts. 
“How long have you been walkin around without panties, Sweetheart?” His cock brushes over your core. You’re sure you’ve left a wet spot on his jeans by now. 
“How long have you known me?” It’s out of your mouth before you have time to think it through. Your cognitive function has been reduced to one goal: getting Joel Miller into your bed. 
Joel considers the implication. For a split second, you think it might make him bolt. Remind him that he knew you as a teenager, but he groans, leaving you putty in his calloused hands. He presses hot, open-mouth kisses on your neck. Your fingers tangle in his hair to keep his mouth on your flesh. His hands adjust under your ass and he’s carrying you up the steps. 
It doesn’t matter how fit survival made you, going up the steps with the extra weight of a toddler was hard enough, much less your entire body. It’s far from effortless on Joel’s part. He gives up on the third step. You applaud his efforts through your laugh. 
“Come on, old man.” You wink, dragging him behind you up the remaining stairs. 
“Who you calling old man?” He growls, crowding behind you. 
He kicks your bedroom door closed and you pray it doesn’t wake your sleeping child. 
You pull off your shirt. Joel backs you onto your soft mattress. Before you have a chance to catch up, his fingers are in the elastic of your flimsy pajama shorts sliding them down your legs in haste. Letting them fly across the room. Your bra joins them in quick succession. 
He’s crawling over you so slowly, eyes raking over your bare body as he does. You burn under his gaze and he’s still not touching you, not in all the places you crave. 
His jean-clad thighs push against yours, spreading your legs slowly. They’re rough against your thighs, but in the way you love. You reach up, allowing your fingers to play in his hair again. He pushes into your touch, eyes fluttering closed as his lips leave soft kisses over your palm. 
His hand starts on your hip. You push into his touch a soft moan vibrating in your throat as you bite your lip. You’ve always loved the feel of your hips being touched. He chuckles, sliding his hand up your sternum. He comes just under your breast before ghosting his fingers back down. He repeats the path but this time with his lip. They leave a fire burning across your body in their wake. You watch him under heavy lids and low hums. 
He doesn’t stop under your breasts this time. His tongue slips out as he makes it to your nipple, going over it with one smooth swipe. It pulls a sweet gasp from you. He repeats the process with your second breast. You roll your hips as his name rolls off your lips. 
He groans nipping up your chest again. Your hands roam up and down his back. You catch the faint catch of scarring every now and then, but it’s all a part of Joel. It tells his story and you’re a part of that now. If it’s just tonight, that’s fine. If it’s more- you won’t think about that. 
His teeth scrape against your collarbone, pulling you back into the here and now. He doesn’t slow down as he ascends your throat crawling higher and higher until his lips are on yours. Your fingers are in his hair. He slides his tongue into your mouth and his hand over your breast, tweaking your tight nipple every third interval. 
You push your pelvis against his. You’re slick and desperate for relief, and his jeans are still on. 
Joel chuckles, squeezing your breast as he devours your mouth. Your hands make their way down his chest to the fly of his pants. You pop open the button before Joel pulls back. You try to capture him again, but he slips away.
You want to whine and throw a temper tantrum. “Joel.” You fuss, pupils blown wide. 
He chuckles deeply. “I know, Sweetheart.” 
He brushes over your hips with his fingers dragging them down your thigh. Before you can spread your legs for him, he pushes your knees up revealing your slick cunt. 
You expect more teasing, for him to lean in and pull back right away, but he doesn’t. He leans in, nose running through your wet folds. You moan out his name trying desperately to get closer to him. 
His hand drags down your stomach, spreading your lips. He eased down again, dragging his tongue through on his second journey. 
Your moans grow louder. You tug on his curls. When he pulls your clit between his lips, your legs snap, trapping his head between your thighs. There’s a tug in your stomach. Joel continues to work the sensitive bundle over and over and over. Your pleas turn to encouragement until they’re no longer words at all. Please. Yes. Yes. More. More. More. The sounds marry together with your body, an extension of sensation until warmth spreads throughout like water soaking through a paper towel across your entire body in a crescendo long laid dormant. 
Joel works his way back up your body with hot opened mouth kisses as you pant, catching your breath. Your fingers brush across his back in smooth trails. He shivers against your touch. 
“So beautiful.”
Heat races toward your cheeks as if the previous minutes weren’t worthy of that. He smiles, dipping down to touch your lips. 
Your hands work toward his waistband. You shove his pants down as best you can. Joel tuts your name softly but helps in your pursuit. His pants and underwear fall to the floor, his cock standing tall. You ogle it like it’s water in the desert.  “Someone’s eager.”
“Wanna take care of you too.” You pant, still fighting for breath. 
Joel's head falls back. “Fuck, not to tonight, Sweetheart.” His hand tangles in your hair. 
He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw and then another and another. “I’m not gonna last long tonight and I wanna make sure I get the chance to be inside you.”
It is the damn truth too. Joel hasn’t been with anyone in almost a year. He hadn’t had the chance for much other relief while traipsing across the western states either. His body is only starting to come down from the constant alertness and tension that came with being on the outside. 
You spread your legs out, your dripping pussy on display for Joel. He swallows, crawling over you. You hook a leg over his waist. Joel takes his time, igniting small fires over your skin. You whimper with impatience, making him laugh. 
“Please, Joel.”
“So goddamn impatient for me.”
Does he know how goddamn patient you’ve been? That this picture embedded itself in your mind 25 years ago? A picture you labeled never gonna happen. 
Finally, he eases into you, slowly, like he’s savoring it. Watching his eyes roll back in his head confirms that he is, sending shivers down your spine. You force your hips toward him, forcing him further into you. You’d forgotten the satisfying stretch of being wrapped around a man. Your moans tangle with Joel’s as he enters you fully, sweat forming across your abdomen.
His fingers intertwine with yours on the mattress. His eyes lock with yours, sending more shock waves across your skin. Your walls clench around him of their own volition. He falls forward with a hiss, catching himself on his forearm. “Fuck, Sweetheart. It’s been a long time. I ain’t gonna last if you keep doing that.”
You squeeze his hand and trail your fingertips down his chest and stomach. He shudders at your touch. It sends another thrill, another wave of electricity straight to your bones. You squeeze him again, and he gasps. You’ve forgotten what it was like to have this effect on a man. 
“You gonna fuck me, old man?”
He groans, burying his face in your neck. Hot breath spreads across your skin in an uncontrollable blaze. Finally, his hips rock against yours, setting sparks off where his skin connects with yours. You moan, arching your back and baring for skin for him to consume. He nips at your neck and collarbone, teeth scraping behind. Your breath catches and Joel notices. His eyes sparkle down at you with mischief. 
He nibbles at your ear lobe. “I’m going to keep that tucked away for later.” and then he picks up the pace, pulling out and pushing in over and over. Your stomach clenches at the promise of more. More than one night. Nights. You shut your brain off there. Any further and you’ll spiral. 
You focus on the thrust of his hips. In and out. In and out. Your hands land on his hips, thumbs caressing the skin there. A bead of sweat falls from Joel’s brown. His lips land on yours again. You can tell he’s close, the tension of your orgasm building. 
You slip a hand to your cunt, reaching for your clit. Joel smacks your hand away, replacing it with his own. “That’s my job, Darlin.” 
Your nipples tighten. Your walls clench around him, your head swimming with incoherent thoughts and words as the sweat builds across your flushed body. Joel barely touches your clit before you’re crying out, muscles tightening before releasing with pleasure. It crashes over your body like much-needed waves after years of drought. 
“Fuck,” Joel hisses, pulling out of you completely. 
His lips connect with yours, soft and tender this time. His calloused hands cradle your face as small cries come from your mouth as words still fail to form. 
“I know, baby. I know.” He kisses your forehead, pushing back your hair until you come back down. 
Your limbs tingle and your body buzzes with a relaxing energy. You’d forgotten what the high was like- the comedown. You feel lighter than you have in months, years even. A smile begins to spread across your face, the bubbling of laughter in your chest. You run your fingers through Joel’s hair and he smiles back. 
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing really.” But the soft rumble of your chest continues.
“Is that so?” Joel’s crow’s feet crinkle making your heart clench. He presses another soft kiss to your lips, another to your forehead. 
“That’s so,” you hum with contentment. 
He chuckles. “We should get you cleaned up.” 
Joel eases off the bed, entering through the open door of your en-suite bathroom. You take a second to appreciate his bare form before your gaze travels to your own body. Your brain finally registers Joel’s warm semen, sticky across your stomach. 
You send up a prayer that Joel had the wherewithal you didn’t in the moment. You’re almost embarrassed how long it took you to realize he finished on your stomach. 
Joel steps back into the room, washcloth in hand. “Thank god for modern amenities.” He winks at you as he sits on the edge of the bed, bringing the warm cloth to your stomach. 
“I’ve got it,” you say, pushing Joel’s hand away as he tries to clean you up. 
“I don’t mind cleaning up after myself.” A smirk plays in his eyes but flickers away when you don’t reciprocate. 
You lean away from him, shoulders tensing. “I prefer to do it.” 
His fingers glide over your bare thigh as you wipe away the last of him, setting the cloth on your nightstand. Goosebumps raise in salute with each of his motions. Your back rests against the headboard as you both sit in naked silence. 
Not a word passes between you. His fingers continue across your thigh. You watch him, his profile, his fingers until the anxiety sets in. Your stomach twists in knots. Your frame is rigid. You pick at the sheets, unable to look Joel’s way. 
He knows it. He feels your walls go up before you can’t look his way so he withdraws his hand, collects his clothes- all but the flannel lying downstairs- and kisses your forehead. Then he waits. 
He’s waiting for you to look at him. His eyes watch your profile, burning it until you can no longer bear it. You push back the tears, meeting his eyes. 
He smiles softly, understandingly. “Same time tomorrow?” 
Your stomach clenches and turns in a ball of excitement and dread. “Same time tomorrow.”
With the reassurance, he kisses your head for a final time. “Sleep well, Sweetheart.”
Then he leaves for the night like you told yourself you wanted.
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toxicanonymity · 6 months
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WIP Wednesday
No pressure tags to share your own - @iamasaddie @dark-scape @milla-frenchy @multiversed-daydreamer @umnitsa @gracieispunk
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Hunger - 9/29, raider!Joel x f!reader
"Gimme your leg," he commands. He bends your knee and puts your foot on his thigh. He lets the skirt of your dress fall down your leg to pool at your hips. His eyes linger on your exposed underwear, and he draws in a slow breath as he unbuckles the strap of the holster.
. . . He checks the buckle and ribbon again, then his massive hands map your thigh as he examines the fit. You flinch in pleasure when the tips of his fingers skim the edge of your panties, growing damper by the second. . . "That gonna hold?" He asks.
You shrug. "Feels fine, what do you think? "
He's not listening. His eyes have returned between your legs. You spread them a little more, and innocently widen your eyes. He wets his lips and his gaze remains on your crotch for another breath, then he pries his eyes away. No time.
He takes the toothpick from behind his ear and sticks it in his mouth, then lets your foot down and fixes the dress. You stand up and he hands you your gun, then adjusts himself as you slide it into the holster. "Walk," he mumbles, toothpick still between his teeth.
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volkodava · 5 months
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Hello my Tumblr friends! Some of you liked the idea of Postapocalypse!AU, as well as the Junpei design I drew earlier. So I pulled myself together and drew portraits for the entire main cast of characters. I must say that they here are closer to the age of P4AU. It was challenging but fun to come up with designs and backstories for them that overlapped with the originals. Although I still haven't thought through some details… But I hope you will enjoy!
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FeMC/Minako/Kotone
Yes, this AU uses a female protagonist. She emerged from the Wasteland and all she knows is that she had some important mission. She is cheerful and always believes in the best. There are "XXII"-shaped scars on both sides of her head, similar to a brand. She seems to know what this is supposed to mean, but she won't tell anyone.
Status: Unknown
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Yukari
The best long-range power of SEES. She lost her father due to the fault of Mitsuru's father. She was looking for Mitsuru to take revenge, but instead she found her best friend. She can often be bitchy and sometimes too straightforward, but no one heals other people’s wounds better than her. She received a scar on her face from an unsuccessfully broken bow string.
Status: Alive
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Junpei
He makes bad jokes and swears a lot to hide his insecurities. Creates chaos almost everywhere it appears. He seems rude and ill-mannered, although he is a hopeless romantic at heart. But if you really make him angry, he destroys everything in his path (ask Takaya and Jin, oh no, sorry, no one will ask them anymore). Ultimately, his concern for Chidori allows him to shed his clown mask and show a different side of himself.
Status: Alive
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Fuuka
A mechanic girl found by SEES in a sand labyrinth. She suffers from strabismus, but this did not stop her from completely restoring Aigis and collecting several more useful items for SEES. Has a phenomenal memory. Probably the only one who never started a conflict first.
Status: Alive
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Aigis/A.I.G.I.S.
Initially, it was a cleaning robot, on which someone put a yellow wig and a ribbon. It rusted in a landfill for a long time until FeMС found it. Gradually he begins to become interested in the world around him and acquires a desire to find out what a person is and how to be one.
Status: Functioning
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Mitsuru
Official leader of SEES. Several years ago, during a shelter fire, she lost her father and was injured herself. She hides the burned part of her face under her hair. She is cold and difficult to compromise, but always acts as a negotiator between gangs of raiders, trying to extract the maximum benefit. Has many useful connections in Port Island.
Status: Alive
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Akihiko
Fan of fights without rules. More reasonable and less impulsive than Junpei, but if the two of them are together, then somewhere nearby there is trouble that they got into. Lost his little sister in a shelter fire and still tries to drown out those memories with alcohol. He often misses Shinjiro. Perhaps he was Mitsuru's partner a couple of times, but in the Wasteland no one cares who sleeps with whom.
Status: Alive
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Shinjiro
A wandering raider that periodically joins SEES and then leaves. Akihiko's former friend. Little emotional. Lost an eye in one of the raider skirmishes. He tends to evaluate people by their usefulness to society, but in the end he admits that he was wrong too often. For some time he was dependent on Strega's help, but later this developed into enmity. Alas, this did not end well.
Status: Dead
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Ken
Practically the “son of the regiment”, he was found at one of the temporary sites along with the body of his deceased mother and taken into the care of SEES. Refused to move to Port Island, choosing to stay in the shelter. Having already seen a lot of things he shouldn't have seen, he wants to become stronger to change the world. Gets close to Shinjiro, reading him as a fatherly/brotherly figure. Nevertheless, he gets very angry when he is overprotected.
Status: Alive
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Koromaru
Good boy. One day he just showed up at the shelter and everyone just accepted it. He warned everyone about the attacks several times, after which he received a collar and his own bowl. A good fighter, he always follows those who go on forays into the Wasteland. Perhaps the only one who simply enjoys life.
Status: Alive
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something-tofightfor · 3 months
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Birthday Kiss #3: Daniel Harper (Wing Pit Guy)
Pairing: Daniel Harper x Female Reader (First and 10 pairing)
Word Count: 892
Rating: M?
Summary: A Kiss at the Dog Park
Author’s note: 9 Pedro Characters. 9 Birthday Smooches. These are very lightly edited because they're supposed to be quick. Wanted to give all of you a gift to celebrate my birthday - Daniel had to make an appearance (especaially after Pedro lost the SNL Emmy).
This is the First and 10 pairing.
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“Which one’s yours?” You looked over to the right, watching as a woman took a seat on the bench next to you, stuffing a leash into the front pocket of her small backpack. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.” 
“That one.” Pointing, you gestured toward the open part of the dog park where Raider and a German Shepherd were chasing each other around, tails wagging. “Black Lab. Raider. You?” 
The woman didn’t respond right away, but she leaned forward, watching the dogs with interest. You heard him bark, and when you looked back at the dog you’d brought to the park, you grinned, keeping your eyes on him as he flopped to the ground and began rolling around in the grass. “Isn’t Raider Daniel’s dog?” 
You heard the tone of her voice and made every attempt not to roll your eyes at the accusation in it. “It is. He’s going to be here in a little while. I brought Raider early to tire him out.” It took her a few seconds to respond, but when she did, you turned to look at her, watching as she leaned back against the edge of the picnic table, resting her elbow on the scarred wood. 
“You’re the girlfriend.” 
“I am.” You looked over, giving her a half smile and shrugging. “I take it he’s talked about me?” Normally, you wouldn’t have been so presumptuous, or made such a self-centered statement, but the way she’d spoken to you had made you feel more than a little defensive. 
“He has.” She narrowed her eyes, looking you up and down and then grinned, the woman sitting straight up and holding up a hand. “We all didn’t think you existed.” “You all?” Confused, you shook your head. “What do you mean?”
“Daniel’s been bringing Raider here for like … eight months?” She rolled her eyes, but the smile didn’t fade. “But he always comes alone, which is like a magnet for the single women here, especially with a dog like that.” She held up her hand wiggling her fingers and showing off a diamond on one of them. “I’m not one of those women, by the way. But every time someone asked him out, or tried to get to know him, or asked to have a playdate with their dog and Raider, he said no, until he started talking about already having a girlfriend.” 
He hadn’t told you that, only that he hadn’t dated much recently. “So why did you think I wasn’t… real?”
“Because we thought he made up a girlfriend to get people to stop bothering him.” It was you that laughed first - your irritation gone and replaced with amusement. She joined you a few seconds later, and then cleared her throat after it tapered off. “But you’re very real. And if you’re here with Raider, then…” 
A joyful bark interrupted her, and when you looked over to find the source of the sound, you watched as the black dog tore away from the others and toward the entrance gate, continuing to yap away, tail wagging back and forth furiously. 
Daniel headed toward where you sat, the fingers of one hand curled around ribbon that was attached to a small bunch of balloons. Biting your lower lip, you closed your eyes and shook your head, fighting the urge to stand up. “You making friends?”
He spoke when he was close enough to you, Raider circling his legs and attempting to sniff the balloons, but Daniel kept them just out of reach. “Maybe.” You looked over at the woman, who grinned again and then stood up, saying hello to him before she walked away. “I thought I was meeting you at your place.” 
“Wanted to surprise you.” He held the balloons out, staring you down. “Brought you a present.” You took them from him, eyes on the colorful inflatables, one larger one at the center of the arrangement with the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY! displayed on the surface. 
After making sure that they were weighted, you leaned over and set the bunch down on the table and then reached for Daniel, urging him closer. “I can see that.” You whispered the words, wrinkling your nose. “Thank you. They’re great.” 
When he exhaled, you felt it against your lips, followed moments later by his as they pressed to yours, the kiss short - but telling, one of Daniel’s hands resting on your upper arm, the other curved around the back of your head. “You’re welcome.” He spoke between kisses, the second one a little longer than the first, the pressure of his fingers increasing, too. 
Before he could kiss you again, Raider barked, both of you looking down at where he sat, head tilted back to look up at the two of you. 
“That’s a hint, I think.” Daniel laughed at your words, but instead of letting go of you, he said your name under his breath and leaned back in, humming before he kissed you for a third time, his lips parted enough that your lower one fit neatly between them. 
Even though you kept your fingers curled into his belt loops, you pushed him away, groaning. “We should go.” He wet his lips, eyes locked on yours. “The sooner we have dinner and get home, the sooner I can give you the rest of your present.” 
— 
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do you have any fanfic recs for Kataang?
Ohhhhh yeah. I'm missing a ton; but here's a rough list of semi-recent favorites and I will try to reblog with any more I come up with later! Hopefully I will get my act together soon so I can write/post my first Kataang fic too ;) 
Y'all know I'm a HUGE fan of @itsmoonpeaches and some of favorite Kataang works by them are helpless (I am so into you), A Breath of Sky, The Soul-Farer, and Threads of Fate but they have TONS of fabulous Kataang fics to choose from so please peruse at your leisure!
look into your eyes (and the sky's the limit) by oreocheesecakes: “If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it,” he said with a smile, his eyes never leaving hers. A fluffy in-universe Kataang AU where Aang saves the world without her, and they meet after the war instead. If you’ve ever wanted to read love at first sight Kataang, pining!Katara, and smack in the middle of charming and dorky!Aang, this might be up your alley. Inspired by the song “Helpless” from Hamilton." - AS CUTE AND FLUFFY AS APPA
No One Else in the World by BaSingSeSocialite: "On a vacation to Kyoshi Island after the end of the war, Aang reflects and muses." - very much in tone with the show, feels so much like an episode. Really great descriptions of waterbending too, which is SO tricky to write! Honestly all their Kataang Week 2022 works are great.
and my voice becomes the driving force by @thinkingisadangerouspastime: "Katara hates the quiet. That’s why she talks to him." - as they say in the notes, it's more of a Katara character study BUT explores what Aang means to her in a beautiful and deep way!
Speaking of @thinkingisadangerouspastime​ ...I also recommend broken pieces still belong (AMAZING exploration of Katara's character and her "emotional journey from the events of "The Western Air Temple" to those of "The Southern Raiders," as she experiences firsthand both the challenges and rewards of forgiving others (and perhaps even learns to forgive herself along the way)"; Exposition (incredibly inventive AUs!!!!! Like some of the most fascinating I've ever seen!!!); Love of My Life (a *chef's kiss* Katara and Aang reunion after the final battle that's filled to the brim with tension); and we have all eternity (to love the dead) (a remarkable take on the soulmates au).
Getting Even by SilverThunder: "Sometimes the most important thing is just settling the score - and Katara has some catching up to do." - One of the earlier Kataang fics (2012!!) but captures the playful flirtiness between them super well and the dialogue is so in character!
The Riot's Gone by margaerystark: "It didn't work. Katara clutched the amulet of spirit water to her chest, her heart pounding against her knuckles. The moment her fingers left Zuko's face - revealing unchanged, leathery skin - was the moment she knew she had made a mistake. The properties that the water once held were gone, and Zuko's scar hadn't even been healed." Katara goes through with using the spirit water from the oasis on Zuko's scar and bears the consequences." - SUCH a cool, unique AU and I love how it focuses on Katara's deep love for Aang through the lens of almost losing him
you cut through all the noise by wanderinghooves: "A year is such an excruciatingly long time. Aang is sent abroad for a year of diplomacy while Katara helps to rebuild at home. Distance makes the heart grow lonely." - Characterization and descriptions were GORGEOUS, and captured that deep love loyalty of Kataang that makes it such an everlasting romance.
teach me to live my life (because i can’t remember how) by @northerngoshawk (another one that is very much a Katara character study and helps paint a more nuanced picture of Kataang’s bond and their relationship dynamic imo) and their other fic gods don’t bleed (except you do): “Katara always thought that being the Avatar meant being a god. She learns from Aang that she is wrong.”
blue ribbons by OceanMyth: “Katara has always been fascinated with Aang's tattoos. In which old scars are healed, and broken tattoos are mended.” - Made me tearbend! I’ve never seen anyone write the take that Aang’s tattoos could be mended after he is scarred and I adore it so much. They have tons of short drabbles that are Kataang-centric too, so if you prefer short & sweet this is the person to go to!
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sins-of-the-sea · 6 months
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//A reminder: The Master never appears the same way twice. He may have the spooky robe and shawl for the most part, but I'm talking about his physiognomy. He can be tall and fat one day, gaunt and tiny the next. He can look white, black, Asian, indigenous, etc etc. He can even appear as a woman, or of ambiguous gender, if at all. It doesn't matter. Because the Master is not human, he has no 'canonical' or 'default' human form.
With all this said, he is also capable of taking on the forms of other people, usually souls he has already consumed. With that said, the Master is not the kind of person to impersonate someone else for personal gain beyond controlling his thralls.... so you won't see him, let's say, impersonating the President of the United States to impose a law that everyone stops eating shellfish and must make pilgrimage to the Marianna Trench once a year. As much as that is hilarious.
It's just not his style.
Maybe one day I'll play around other disguises of his, but I picture him also appearing to others as the following at some point in time:
An acolyte under Rameses II during the Nineteenth Dynasty of Egypt
An Athenian sailor during Hellenistic Greece
A passerby in Golgotha during the Second Temple of Jerusalem
A Viking (can't decide which part of the North)
Certain indigenous Americans such as the Algonquians, Aztecs, Cree, Onedia, Mayan, etc.
A Gupta-era Indian traveler
And so on and so forth.
In canon, the Master has don other disguises, such as an Uyghur/some other Turkic raider in Gansu, China, a Maratha warrior in India, and so on and so forth. The only reason why I'm not bringing back the Miguel Aguinaldo (Spanish-era Filipino Indio) disguise back per se is because the role has now been more properly fulfilled by dozens others in the current writing. But I will admit--I miss writing what is basically a villainous Filipino (who isn't Datu Dalugdog, at least) lmao. So perhaps in RP only, he can reappear as a short and skinny Filipino guy--or dozens of other disguises.
Note that when he appears fully as a normal everyday human, his time is short. Remember--he's not at full power without his missing Eye, and he mostly resorts to scare tactics, abuse, and manipulation to keep his thralls under his control. The missing eye, as a result, is his only constant feature regardless of what disguise he puts on.
With all this said, bullying him in his human disguise is still not recommended. Or go ahead and try. Pray you don't mind sacrificing your internal organs in learning about how sea stars or ribbon worms eat at a much larger scale.
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sundove88 · 11 months
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The Monsters of Project Link Up
Shonen Jump Power Linkage + Great Six of The West Coast + Defenders of Europe:
Despairiuses- Summoned not by the villain linkers, but by Shadius’ most powerful generals- including Thanoro, his advisor. They’re born from the negative energy in people’s hearts. The ones with corrupted Prism Orbs in their bodies are more powerful.
Super Smash Bros. Power Linkage:
Despairiuses- They’re just like the ones in Shonen Jump Power Linkage, but with a twist. The ones who have an orb of light on their body are the ones who have been summoned by Galeem’s mercenaries, while the ones who have a dragon’s eye of sorts have been summoned by Dharkon’s mercenaries.
Cookie Run Sugar Linkage:
Desweeteners- Summoned by the Cookies of Darkness and their Linkers, as well as the members of Shade Sweet. They’re born from the corrupted hearts of people and desserts alike and take on the form of what the victim loves most.
Genshin Impact Elemental Linkage:
Erebians- Monsters summoned by the Fatui Harbingers. They’re often formed from the darkness inside of people and often take the forms of what that person loves.
Disney Dream Linkage + Kingdom Hearts: Linkage of Fate:
Negativians- Summoned by most Disney Villains and their linkers. Created from the darkness in people’s hearts. They look eerily like The Heartless- they might even be related to em!
Chaotians- Can only be summoned by Bill Cipher, Chernabog, and a few other characters. Created from people’s hearts when they’re fully consumed by darkness.
Heartless and Unversed- Can be summoned by Xenahort and any other Kingdom Hearts villain. They mostly have yellow eyes and are the corruptions of people’s hearts. Believe me, they’re not ones to mess with.
Octonauts Oceanic Linkage:
Abyssians- Can be summoned by the Deepwater Mercenaries. They’re often made when a normal object (Such as a Beach Ball) gets corrupted with negative energy.
Transformers LinkSpark:
Rustdroids- Can be summoned by the Decepticons and their Linkers, as well as The Order of Unicron. They’re often summoned from a normal object when it gets corrupted with Dark Energon.
Balan Wonderworld: Linkage of Balance:
Nega Bosses- Monsters that are the embodiment of corrupted people’s hearts who have fallen out of balance. They can mostly be summoned by Lance, but can also be summoned by The Obscurity Rivals ( @lovelyteng ). The only exception to these enemies are the Nega Bosses of the Inhabitants, who have already been defeated.
Overwatch Power Linkage:
Talonzer- Corrupted versions of normal objects that are summoned by members of Talon. They can range from being decently good in battle (A tree) to just asking for trouble (A double decker bus).
Brawl Stars Battle Linkage:
Glitchborgs- Summoned by Dr. Emery Starr ( @lovelyteng ) and his mercenaries. They’re born from the mixture of a corrupted person’s heart and a nearby object.
Sanrio Dream Linkage:
Worseners- Summoned by The Ribbon Raiders. They’re often created from normal objects that have been infused with dark energy.
Nickelodeon Unity Linkage:
Bleakstroyers- Creatures born from the corrupted hearts of people. They’re often a manifestation of the darkness inside people, and they’re a mix of what that person loves plus negative energy.
Cartoon Network Unity Linkage:
Shadelings- Evil monsters created from negative energy. They’re often a mixture of what that person loves and the essence of evil itself. Plus, they can range from being your average home wrecker to a massive threat.
Dreamworks Dream Linkage:
Negativians-Just like in Disney Dream Linkage, Negativians are created from the darkness in people’s hearts. But however, these ones have a twist- they have motifs that are related to the villain-linker pair who summoned them. Take for example- the Negativians Pitch Black summons are made of black sand.
Illumination Dream Linkage:
Negativians- Once again, these creatures are born from the darkness in people’s hearts. But this time around, the victim is forcefully put into the cage and their negative energy fuses with an inanimate object. Plus, the villains have some insane summoning animations.
Vocaloid Harmony Linkage + PriPara Harmony Linkage + Aikatsu Harmony Linkage + Love Live Harmony Linkage + BanG Dream Harmony Linkage + Project Sekai Harmony Linkage:
The Voiceless- Demonic creatures born from the negative energy of people and the stuff they love. Some can be as harmless as an iPod to being as devastating as a subwoofer. They often have technology motifs in Vocaloid Harmony Linkage + Project Sekai Harmony Linkage, Idol and Ribbon motifs in PriPara Harmony Linkage + Aikatsu Harmony Linkage, and Star motifs in Love Live Harmony Linkage + BanG Dream Harmony Linkage. Each can be summoned by the villains of their installments.
Touhou Project Unity Linkage:
Yami-Kai: Japanese Mythology inspired creatures that are created when a normal object is corrupted by The Order of Yomi. They can vary in appearance from a massive Shrine Gate to a colossal radio tower. Needless to say, they aren’t to be messed with.
There will be more to come, so stay patient!
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agentrouka-blog · 1 year
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Cersei will probably blame Tyrion for blowing up the Sept, not only she already tried to pin the blame on him for her shitty plots (like the plan to murder Trystan) but the smallfolk of King's Landing already hate Tyrion for burning their houses down with wildfire, so it would be easier to convince them it was a revenge plot
I'm not so sure.
I don't think merely blaming Tyrion would would be a very successful ploy. He's not on hand, hasn't been seen in months. It doesn't really resonate. It would rightfully seem not credible. The smallfolk may hate him but that doesn't mean they would happily believe any claim by the queen they just saw marched naked through the streets for the crime of fornication. Even if she has been making pious noises since then. It'd have to be someone more immediate and concrete. (But don't ask me who.)
But I also want to emphasize, I don't think it'd be an explosion of the scale in the show. A burning of some kind, probably. An explosion, no.
We have examples of such fire traps.
Ser Gregor Clegane:
Ser Raymun Darry took up the tale. “At Wendish Town, the people sought shelter in their holdfast, but the walls were timbered. The raiders piled straw against the wood and burnt them all alive. When the Wendish folk opened their gates to flee the fire, they shot them down with arrows as they came running out, even women with suckling babes.” (AGOT, Eddard XI)
And in a painful copy, by the Brotherhood Without Banners:
Flaming arrows flew through the morning mists, trailing pale ribbons of fire, and thudded into the wooden walls of the septry. A few smashed through shuttered windows, and soon enough thin tendrils of smoke were rising between the broken shutters. Two Mummers came bursting from the septry side by side, axes in their hands. Anguy and the other archers were waiting. (ASOS, Arya VII)
And in a particularly interesting example:
On the thirtieth day since the trial of seven, the king awoke with the sunrise and walked out onto the walls. Thousands cheered—though not at the Sept of Remembrance, where hundreds of the Warrior's Sons had gathered for their morning prayers. Then Maegor mounted Balerion and flew from Aegon's High Hill to the Hill of Rhaenys and, without warning, unleashed the Black Dread's fire. As the Sept of Remembrance was set alight, some tried to flee, only to be cut down by the archers and spearmen that Maegor had made ready. The screams of the burning and dying men were said to echo throughout the city, and scholars claim that a pall hung over King's Landing for seven days. (The World of Ice and Fire - The Targaryen Kings: Maegor I)
I imagine the bulk of this imagery is likely to be replicated with Dany in Vaes Dothrak, but their arcs have not been studded with parallels for no reason, so something along the lines of a fire trap is bound to be in play with Cersei as well.
Maybe much smaller and sneakier, than what they show suggested, though no less deadly to her enemies. Perhaps smoke inhalation may even suffice. Have them choke like Joffrey did.
And it may be that it simply happens in a way that leaves her looking to have narrowly escaped danger herself, dramatically staged, making her involvement seem as unlikely as that of the Tyrells poisoning Joffrey (since Margaery was drinking from the same cup at one point). It may be that a third party will rear its head looking suspicious beforehand. After all The Hand of the King Kevan Lannister, the queens own beloved uncle, has just been murdered, as well. And the grand maester Pycelle. Clearly every signifyer of order and authority seems to be under attack.
Whichever third party may end up being blamed, it primarily needs to look like Cersei did NOT do it, giving her the opportunity to appear like she's restoring order after the fact. That would help her regain some credibility with the smallfolk, too. The repentant queen mother, defending the Faith that was so cruelly attacked by [insert conveniently suspicious outsider group], avenging her beloved daughter in law and her late uncle, striving to protect her son king Tommen.
If a scapegoat is found, it's more likely to be someone who is an actual threat to Cersei right now. Killing two birds with one stone. Or two enemies with one fire.
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lucienmelaina · 26 days
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Do you miss writing?
There's an old typewriter in the library. Maybe I should ask the raiders if they can find any ink ribbons, as a birthday present.
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saucyzoo · 3 months
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Ribbons Lara Croft!
It is always kind of funny posting her while also using her as the baseline character to show off in polls, but sometimes the prompt changes from poll to batch or I just want to show off more of her.
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BLUE MOON DON'T!!
Despite the cube's frantic movements it appears they cannot stop anything. Time seems to slow. Blue Moon's claws race down towards their target. The raider leader swiftly dodging. Returning a blow with the rusted sword on the claw that had missed it mark.
It hits Blue Moon's forearm. His ribbon seemed to flinch at the contact, but not a second later a bullet goes through the leader's head. Their body flung away from the force. Sun has hit top mark.
The victory is uncelebrated though. As suddenly Moon comes upon Blue Moon with the axe. Swiftly swinging down and chopping off Blue Moon's entire forearm. causing Blue Moon to scream. His entire body jerking as he raises his other claw to strike at moon. Eyes tightly shut with pain.
And then the world shifts. Blue Moon's claw strikes nothing. There are children screaming. The sun stares as Blue Moon crumples to the floor in agony. You have returned to the daycare.
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I've been having thoughts on Star Trek recently, and what I would do to make appeal to me more. Very few people will likely see this, but I wanted to get my thoughts out of my brain. I'm aware that many of the things I describe as issues come down to real-world factors (multiple writers, costuming, realities of being a show made by humans), but I'm choosing to ignore those.
My top 5 things that would improve Star Trek in my personal opinion. Under the cut. Stuck the one that's probably gonna be most controversial first, to get it out of the way.
1) make Starfleet more openly military inspired
This boils down to me finding stories with militaries in them, and military sci-fi, engaging. I would change three major things, and a lot of minor things.
The three big things are: give Starfleet an actual Marine Corps, give Starfleet an intelligence service (that actually has an onscreen presence), and give Starfleet space fighters. Two of those things solve some major issues the series has, the other is just fun, but all of them bring Starfleet much much more in line with modern navies. And Starfleet is a navy, it is a military. The series dances around it, but that's what they are, so they should drop the pretenses and say that's what they are.
The Marine Corps and intelligence service ideas fix big issues the series has had. Having actual Marines makes it so that Starfleet wouldn't be incompetent in ground battles, like we see in DS9 and other shows. Plus you could leverage the tech of the setting for some really cool kit. A semi-related point here is: stop waffling back and forth with the phasers to make them look not like weapons (the TNG era shows were really bad with this). Just make them have the general form factor of a modern pistol or an actual rifle with a stock. Stick with the later TNG era idea of the phasers firing pulses instead of beams, those just look better on screen. I know the series is about spaceships doing spaceship things, but an actual organized ground combat only makes sense. You cannot take on planets and win wars without putting boots on the ground to hold it.
For the intelligence service, it makes it much easier to have espionage style stories without making the main characters do everything. Real militaries don't have ship captains leave the ship to go do commando raids. Give Starfleet Intelligence (and Section 31 - we'll get to them) actual special forces units to do that stuff. Have them attached to the ship for specific missions, and follow the actual team on their mission, so we can see competent examples of special operations on the show. I want my Space Green Berets dammit.
For the space fighters, this is mostly just for rule of cool because any realistic phaser array would be instant death for fighter craft, but you can hand wave it away with an explanation that most main phaser arrays/disruptor cannons/what have you are not optimized to shoot at small fast targets like fighters and shuttles. This also allows for CIWS to come into play if the fighters are firing photon torpedoes/missiles at enemy capital ships. Pulse phaser based CIWS turrets are an awesome idea and would look very visually cool imo. Plus having a space fighter corps just adds the element of having more potential characters to examine, and makes for very cool set pieces (imagine a Star Trek version of BSG's Starbuck and Viper vs Raider battles for example).
The little things are things like, have the characters give salutes, have visible medals/award ribbons on dress uniforms (which tbf, the various series set earlier in the timeline actually do, I don't why they dropped this), have more military inspired jargon, naval traditions, songs, etc.
Finally, they really need to have a consistent uniform with nametags and POCKETS for God's sake; I would very much base the uniforms off of Star Trek Online's 2410 Odyssey uniforms, they're a truly excellent Star Trek uniform "family", and has distinct duty, dress, utility, medical, and admiralty uniforms that do a much better job of differentiating between specialist roles.
2) establish firmly that the Federation is socialist, not communist
This is more me getting annoyed at pop culture meme-ification of the Federation, but I want explicit mention of the Federation being socialist, in the sense of a middle ground between capitalism and communism.
I'd start by making it expressly clear that the Federation as a whole has a currency. Call it whatever (credit was used a few times). Have it based on a non-physical abstract value (say something like energy usage for a replicator). But have it exist. Have a form of physical currency of some form for purposes of trade with other interstellar nations as well. Sure, by all means, have Earth itself be a utopia where a combination of Federation social safety net policies and similar United Earth-specific policies make it so no one needs currency to live *on Earth*, but having an entire interstellar civilization have no money makes no sense.
Adding to that, I want an actual explanation of the social safety nets that the Federation provides. What does a life on nothing but the bare minimum standard of living in the Federation look like. I would wager it's very good by our standards, but not by theirs; an exploration of how those values and expectations have changed would be cool.
Next, have corporations be a thing that gets explored. Have some be state-owned, have some be private owned. We already have examples of corporations and such in canon (Yoyodyne Propulsion Systems for example), but no idea what that looks like. I think exploring what the Federation's economy looks like under an interstellar system of democratic socialism would make for interesting stories. Not to mention, just based on the interstellar scale of the Federation, there would definitely be the equivalent of megacorporations, and exploring what a megacorporation would look like in a socialist environment would be interesting in my opinion.
3) add more grey morality and move away from "people are perfect, the Federation is perfect"
To Trek's credit, it has started to do this in more recent entries, and ofc DS9 made it clear that the Federation was not a perfect utopia, I just want more of these things. Section 31 ties into this. I don't honestly mind that they exist. Every other interstellar polity in Trek has a shadowy organization like Section 31. Not having one may be a good moral statement on the part of the Federation, but makes no practical sense. Have them be a subunit of the larger Starfleet or Federation intelligence community, make it so they're under extreme scrutiny and oversight after what happened in DS9, but the Federation needs an organization to counter things like the Obsidian Order and the Tal Shiar.
4) make the series sexier/more appealing to monsterfuckers, and showcase more nonhumanoid aliens in general
This one is very much personal to me, but I'm pretty tired of having only the most human-looking aliens be the ones that get the romantic attention. Give me Star Trek Online style Tzenkethi, have species like Tholians be acknowledged as just as attractive as a human, have species that aren't just "human with makeup" be a part of Starfleet crews, show us what adaptations for those non-humanoid body plans/life support needs would be like. And have somebody fuck a Gorn already.
5) explore topics the series has shied away from
I want to explore things that the series either left unexplored, hinted at, deemphasized, or dropped.
A big one of these is religion within Starfleet, and specifically human religion. I find it not very believable that human religion would have gone away after contact with aliens, especially considering real world discussions and decrees from human religions on this subject. In addition, we mostly see alien religions as something either practiced in isolation from others (even of their own kind), or as something shown in a more negative light. Regarding it's place in Starfleet, the original series had a chapel onboard the Enterprise. I would add those back to Starfleet ships (at least ones big enough for them), and have actual chaplains onboard alongside counselors to handle religious matters.
Another thing to explore is interspecies relationships. This one is something that does come up in Trek, but not often, and how it's handled is inconsistent in my eyes. I want more of this, and more of it involving characters that aren't human.
Semi-related, a society like the Federation, that has come into contact with species like the Denobulans (for example), would very likely have a much more liberal interpretation of what constitutes an acceptable relationship - we ought to see more romantic relationships, family dynamics, and friendships, that are beyond our own modern human norm, and these sorts of relationships should be afforded the same level of respect.
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clintbennet · 5 months
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closed: @reneebrxndxn Location: Her house, going to prom in the community center
"Alright.... not too bad, right?" Clint questioned after he straightened out the blazer and adjusted his belt. Luna, the only one available to offer any sort of criticism simply glanced up at him from laying on the floor, yawned, then put her head down. "Yeah? Well you just walk around naked anyway." Clint joked to himself. Now that he thought of it, this was the first time he wore a blazer out, the only other time was trying this one on a few days ago from the collection of clothes the raiders brought back. He was surprised by how it made him look in the mirror at the supermarket, his shoulders seemed more squared, less slouched, more confident, it wasn't something he was used to seeing and now that he had put the whole outfit together, the best pair of jeans he could find in his pile, his belt still strapped with his knife and gun in it's holster... something he felt he could never leave the cabin without, his boots which he did his best to clean the mud from he had, the gray blazer, and a black undershirt free of Luna's fur, he found himself standing a little more tall. This was the most dressed up he had ever been and it was a bit of an adjustment to see himself in this light, he was feeling pretty good. Until he caught a look at himself in the mirror, noticing how long and shaggy his hair had gotten. Shit... he knew he should have asked someone to cut it... He did his best to comb it back with water from his sink and a comb, it held, but he wondered for how long. Oh well, it would be dark soon anyway, it just had to hold together for an hour or so then it could fall away however it liked. Once satisfied he started to head out the door with Luna close by his heels, as normal, but this time he turned around at the door and prompted her to sit. "Not this time, girl." He soothed, which she argued against with a whine. "Sorry, I'll be back later." He closed the door and was about two steps off his porch before with a sigh, he turned on his heels, realizing he forgot something. Coming in the door again, Luna excitedly jumped on him, as if he hadn't only been gone for 30 seconds. "Down down down." He told her as he strolled over to the table, picking up the corsage he had made for Renee. It was simple, adorned with a few varieties of the flowers that were still in bloom, a mix of yellows, light purples, and some reds stuck into that weird green foam stuff that he had been soaking in water to keep them fresh that he tried his best to hide, glued onto a sage green ribbon to tie to her wrist. He had never been to anything like a prom before so he felt completely lost, but the corsage was something he felt was important. Now that he was finally ready, he headed out the door for real this time and headed down to Renee's house. Looking at her door, he let out a nervous breath, why he was so anxious, he didn't know, but after a moment, fighting the urge to push his hair back again and letting whatever grip the water had on it go, he knocked on the door and waited for her response.
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lesbiantvfish · 8 months
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Would Manakko be alright? Just them gossiping and about the hyperforce while snuggling and planning evil shit
Me receiving rare yoai pairing prompt:
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Now here I am struggling. Do I write my trucker Mandarin? or the fantasy au Mandy..
ykw I’ll stick with the trucker this time around. There’s always time for the other idea.
(Ty for all the prompts again, ooo I got a bunch today, this is exciting stuff for my overactive brain!)
It’s not that Sakko intended to escape jail. It’s more of, some other high priority prisoner was being broken out, and Sakko’s cell just so happened to get destroyed by the attack to the moonbase.
The raiders took prisoners with them as they fled from their pursuers.
Sakko fully intended to pretend to be on either of their sides if it meant living in comfort. He didn’t know what was going on, entirely. Other than he no longer had a bed or an understanding of where or what he is supposed to eat now.
The raiders who escaped with him and the other prisoners arrived to an underground city on a planet Sakko did not recognize. The raiders now realizing how complicated it is to house all these prisoners decided to ask them if they had a place to stay, and if they could help them make contact with their connections.
Sakko couldn’t be sure if his old emergency contact hasn’t already smashed the communication line they used to share. But he knew it wasn’t like he had any other option.
Sakko held the coordinates to his current location, and a borrowed communicator.
This guy was as Sakko remembered, not that bad. Kind of obsessed, but at a time they both shared an ultimately self serving loyalty to the same ruthless boss.
Who in their right mind would serve Skeleton King selflessly? Not to imply that Mandarin was a well adjusted man. But he was one that understood the importance of keeping a technological expert close.
“.. Hello, this is Samantha’s pickup services. What brings you to this call?”
A familiar voice, but an abysmally unfamiliar line.
“… Mandarin? What exactly are you doing?”
Somewhere else, Mandarin raises his brow at the familiar voice. Sakko kept his number? Sakko had business with him, and not his clone?
Mandarin knew he needed to train himself, and gather a team he could depend on before exacting any revenge on either the hyperforce or Skeleton King.
“This is Mandarin speaking, yes. I didn’t think this was a personal call.”
“Are you doing anything right now?”
Oh boy, was he. Mandarin was hauling an entire amusement park ride in the back of his space car. But this was also his chance to regain his former companion.
“Not anything I can’t multitask. What is it that you’re calling me for?”
“The prison I was at was destroyed. Do you, um. Well, is there any way I can stay with you until I’m able to live elsewhere..?”
“You want to be a stowaway?”
Mandarin continued, feeling obligated to catch him up to speed. “Sakko, my clone stole my identity. Legally, no one considers me a criminal anymore. Anyway, sure. I’ll give you a temporary home if you’ll accept it, that is.”
“Your what?”
“It’s a good thing you called me, and not him. You see, he’d sound like me, and remember being me, but he’d ultimately trick you into losing yourself to Skeleton King. I’m not sure if you figured it out yet, but the Skeleton King can’t help us anymore.”
Sakko still felt the psychological urge to gain Skeleton King’s approval even after all the torment he put him through.
“I’ll make Skeleton King regret losing me. We were his greatest assets. …Anyway, I’ll stay anywhere that lets me eat and sleep and be myself comfortably.”
“Sakko, we’re far more than just assets. But none the less, that works with me. Where can I find you?”
Sakko was given new clothes, ones that apparently belonged to a doll. He made it work. The skirt had suspenders, and even functional pockets.
Sakko tried to adjust the ribbon around his new shirt collar just right, as his second impression on Mandarin was significant enough to give himself a new home. Even if it does turn out to be temporary.
A large cargo ship landed nearby. It had a gigantic advertisement on the side for a new theme park. As the door opened, Sakko saw a familiar set of purple feet step out.
Sakko spoke first at the sight of Mandarin’s appearance.
“Man, lose the shades. We’re underground, you know.”
“No. Do you have any luggage?”
“What do you think? The moonbase prison confiscated all my projects and materials. Even my goddamn wardrobe. My favorite blue crop top? Gone.”
“That is rough. You looked fantastic in that one.”
Suddenly, a crowd unaware of Sakko almost stampeded over him.
Mandarin scooped him up by his suspenders, and put him on his shoulders to move onto the cargo ship. It seemed this place was getting too crowded for a proper conversation to catch up with one another.
Sakko clung securely to Mandarin, and felt a comfortable sense of security wash over him. He was so glad his connection to Mandarin seemed to be intact.
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