#I don’t know what you’re talking about brendan

[ask-idv-condemner]

"...Something about you doesn't seem right. What's wrong with you that I should be looking out for."

- Brendan

"Hm? Is that so? That’s quite the rude welcome.. I’m not sure what I’ve done to give off such an opinion! I only wish to get to know everyone better, isn’t that what friends- or well, teammates, should do? You are a fellow survivor, yes?"

[ @avatar-idv ]

[nhlclover]

𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 | 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

summary: after luke lets you slip away the first time, he's destined to not let you slip away again.

warnings: cute fluff, awkward dialogue

word count: 2.77k

You were the face of Michigan Athletics.

Michigan wasn’t exactly known for its soccer program, but when you committed there, all eyes were on them. You were set to be their crown jewel athlete, bringing them their first national championship.

And in Luke’s opinion, they couldn’t have picked a better face.

You’d met at a pre-season party the soccer team threw during Luke’s freshman year. As the women's soccer team captain, you took on the hosting duties. Luke spotted you across the room almost immediately. You stood out in the crowd, not just because you were the host, but because you had an undeniable presence. Effortlessly charismatic, you moved through the room with ease, greeting everyone with a warm smile. Every new person you spoke to laughed easily at what you said, drawn in by your charm.

Luke stood by the kitchen counter, nursing his drink, his eyes following your every move. He noticed how you moved from group to group, person to person, finding conversation with every one of them. Luke didn’t even know if you personally knew all of them, but it seemed like you were best friends with everyone.

"Hey, Luke! Are you having a good time?" Brendan, one of the sophomore players, clapped him on the back, pulling him out of his trance.

Luke smiled, though his eyes drifted back to you. "Yeah, man. Great party."

Brendan followed his gaze and grinned knowingly. “Ah, I see you spotted y/n,” he said, sighing. “Not gonna happen, buddy.”

Luke furrowed his brows, turning to look at Brendan. “What? Why not?”

Brendan chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s… she’s like the sun. You know, everyone’s drawn to her, but no one gets close. She’s got a lot on her plate—captain of the team, top of her class, always involved in something.”

Luke glanced back at you, captivated by the way you laughed with the group you were with, your laughter ringing above the crowd's conversation. “She seems really nice,” he said, more to himself than to Brendan.

“Oh, she is,” Brendan agreed. “Nicest person you'll ever meet. But no chance in hell is she going for a freshman.”

Luke nodded, still not taking his eyes off you. Brendan patted him on the shoulder again. “Don’t get too hung up on her, bud. Enjoy the party. Plenty of other people to meet.” With that, he wandered off to join a group of his friends.

Maybe Brendan was right. Maybe you don’t go for freshman. But there was something about you that made Luke want to try anyway. He watched as you finally took a break from mingling and headed towards the kitchen. His heart pounded in his chest as you approached, and he decided to take a chance.

“Hey,” he said, mustering up his most confident smile as you reached the counter. “I’m Luke. Great party, by the way.”

You looked up, meeting his eyes with a warm smile that made his heart race even more. “Hey, Luke, I’m y/n. Thanks, I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” you said, your voice sweet. “I don’t recognize you… you must be a freshman.”

Luke chuckled slightly, nodding. “Yeah, yeah I am. I’m on the men's hockey team, actually.”

"So, how are you finding Michigan so far? Adjusting okay?"

Luke smiled, grateful for the shift in focus. "It’s been great so far. A bit overwhelming, but in a good way. The guys on the team have been really welcoming."

"That’s good to hear," you said, genuinely pleased. "The first year can be a lot, but it sounds like you’re handling it well."

A sudden chorus of shouts from just outside the kitchen ripped the both of you out of the conversation. You looked over your shoulder, seeing your friends waving you over, before returning your gaze to Luke. “Looks like I’m needed. But it was really nice talking to you, Luke. Hopefully, I’ll see you around.” You shot him a genuine smile before slipping out of the kitchen and into the crowd.

You saw each other a little bit during Luke’s two years there, short little conversations at parties or brief interactions in the athletic facilities at Michigan. But Luke never made his move. He’d think about it every time you interacted, but could never muster up the courage to say ‘Hey, y/n, wanna go out sometime?’. Then before he knew it, New Jersey had signed him, and he’d lost his chance.

That was until you had posted a photo, announcing that you had signed a contract with Gotham FC, the women's soccer team based out of New York and New Jersey. It felt like fate to Luke that the two of you wound up in the same city again. His heart raced as he stared at the photo, and Luke would be damned if he was going to let you slip away again.

A couple of games into the season, the team was informed that you, Gotham FC’s newest signing, would be doing the ceremonial puck drop. It felt as if the world was dropping a fated encounter right in Luke’s lap. Luke had let it slip to the Devil's PR team that he knew you and they pulled some strings to set up him being involved in the puck drop.

When he watched you step onto the ice adorning a Devil's jersey, Luke felt his breath catch in his throat. His crush came soaring back as if no time had passed.

He watched as you graced towards center ice, waving towards the cheering fans. Your lips parted widely, displaying the same genuine and bright smile that he remembered. The moment you reached the end of the red carpet, your eyes met him, and a flicker of recognition passed between you. Luke managed to smile, though his heart was pounding as if he was about to play in the biggest game of his life.

“Hey, y/n,” he said, his voice surprisingly steady despite the nerves that ran through his veins. “Welcome to Jersey.”

You smiled back, eyes twinkling. “Thanks, Luke. It’s good to see a familiar face.”

After the puck dropped, Luke lingered on the ice, watching as you were ushered off by Devil's staff and taken behind the bench. He couldn’t shake the interaction you’d had; the way your eyes lit up when you saw him, the way your voice sounded when you said his name. It was as if all the feelings he'd buried deep down were rushing back, more intense than ever before.

The feeling didn’t shake even as the game started. Every time he finished a shift, he couldn’t help but glance into the stands, hoping to catch a glimpse of your face. He wondered what you were thinking, if you even remembered those small moments you’d shared back in Michigan, or if you felt the same connection that he did now.

The Devils ended up securing a win, but even as his teammates celebrated around him, Luke found his mind elsewhere. As he finished his post-game routine, towelling off the sweat and changing into his street clothes, Luke spotted the team’s media coordinator stick her head into the room before walking over to him. “Hey Luke, you have a visitor,” she said, a knowing smile tugging on her lips.

Luke’s heart skipped a beat, hoping it was you. He quickly ran a hand through his damp hair, trying to calm his nerves. When he stepped out into the hallway, there you were, leaning against the wall with that same bright smile.

“Hey,” you greeted, pushing off the wall and walking toward him.

“Hey,” Luke responded, a little breathless. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You shrugged, a playful glint in your eyes. “Figured I’d stop by and congratulate you on the win.”

“Ah, well, thank you,” Luke replied.

“I think it’s only fair that you come to a Gotham game now that I’ve been to a Devils game.”

“Hey, don’t tempt me with a good time.”

As you chatted, his teammates began to trickle out of the locker room, noticing the unfamiliar face. Jack was the first to approach, Dawson and Jesper close behind, throwing a curious glance between the two of you.

“Luke, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Jack teased, already smirking.

Luke rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “Guys, this is y/n. She’s with Gotham FC now. We knew each other back at Michigan.”

Introductions were made, and you were instantly welcomed into the group, the guys bombarding you with questions about soccer and your new team. You handled it with ease, laughing and chatting as if you had known them for years. You had the same effect on them as the rest of the people you met.

Luke tried to focus on the conversation, but his thoughts kept drifting to how much he wanted to talk to you alone. The banter with his teammates was fun, but he couldn’t help feeling like this was his chance to finally make a move — something he’d regretted not doing back in Michigan.

As the group talked, Luke started to think about how he could get the guys to back off for a bit. Jack was already trying to dig into their history, jokingly asking, “So, Luke, did you ever tell her how you used to—”

“Hey, Jack,” Luke interrupted, shooting his brother a look that clearly said don’t even think about it. “How about you head on home? I’ll catch up with you guys later, alright?”

Jesper raised a brow, catching on to what Luke was getting at. “Yeah, yeah, we’re off. We’ll see you later. It was nice meeting you, y/n.”

Jack attempted to argue, wanting to bug his little brother a little more, but was ushered away by Jesper and Dawson. Once they were out of earshot, Luke turned back to you, his nerves kicking up a notch. Luke shifted awkwardly on his feet, running a hand through his still-damp hair as he tried to steady his nerves. The hallway felt quieter now, the absence of his teammates making the moment between you two more intimate, more charged. He could feel the weight of the opportunity, the chance to say something he’d been holding back for years.

“I uh… I was wondering if you’d uh… want to maybe get a drink with me or something?” Luke stammered out.

A small grin tugged on your lips, Luke’s cheeks heating up and turning a light pink hue. “I’d love to.” you nodded. “But I hope you know a place, I’m still getting used to the area.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know a place,” Luke said.

Luke's mind was racing as you both left the arena together. The cool night air was a welcome relief against the lingering adrenaline from the game. He walked beside you, his hands stuffed into his pockets, trying to play it cool despite the storm of emotions swirling inside him. It had been years since he'd last felt this way — the same fluttering nerves and excitement that he used to push aside back at Michigan.

You both arrived at a cozy bar just a few blocks from the arena, a place Luke had frequented with his teammates. The atmosphere was relaxed, the dim lighting and soft chatter creating an intimate vibe that made it easier for Luke to settle his nerves.

As you both slid into a booth, Luke tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t come off as too eager. He knew this was his chance to finally make up for the lost opportunities in Michigan, but the words seemed to catch in his throat.

“Nice spot,” you commented, glancing around with an approving nod. “It reminds me of that place in Michigan, Paulies?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke agreed, trying to ignore the way his heart sped up every time you looked at him. “Figured it’d be a nice spot to catch up, you know?”

“I’m glad you asked me out tonight,” you said, your eyes meeting his in a way that made his heart skip a beat. “I always wondered if we’d get another chance to hang out.”

The comment caught Luke off guard, and he blinked in surprise. “Really? You wondered that?”

“Yeah,” you admitted with a soft laugh. “I mean, we didn’t really get to know each other that well at Michigan, but there was always this… I don’t know, this connection, I guess. I always thought we’d hang out more, but then things got busy… y’know you with hockey, me with soccer… and well, you know how it goes.”

Luke felt a warmth spread through his chest, your words giving him the confidence he needed. “I thought the same thing,” he confessed, his voice a little steadier now. “I always wanted to ask you out back then, but I just… never did. I don’t know, I guess I was scared or something.”

You tilted your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Scared? Of what?”

“I mean… c’mon y/n…” Luke chuckled but stopped when he met your sincere eyes. “You were always out of my league. I mean you were the captain of the soccer team, you were always on the Dean’s list, you are liked by everyone… I mean you met my teammates for five minutes and they were enthralled by you. Not to mention you’re like drop-dead gorgeous, I just…”

Luke stopped when he realized he was rambling, stopping also to catch his breath. You blinked, genuinely surprised by his admission. “Out of your league?” you echoed, leaning forward slightly. “Luke, what are you talking about?”

He shrugged, trying to play it off, but the vulnerability in his eyes was undeniable. He could hardly believe he was admitting this to you after all this time. A small laugh escaped your lips, and you shook your head in disbelief.

“Luke,” you started, your voice soft but firm, “You’re tall, handsome, and you were destined to be a hockey player in the NHL. You’re one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met. You were always kind, even in those brief moments we had back in Michigan. And when I moved here, I remembered you played her and I was hoping I’d run into you again because… well, I kind of had a crush on you too.”

Luke felt like the ground had shifted beneath him. He blinked, processing what you just said. “You… you did?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded again, your smile growing a little wider. “Yeah, I did. I mean, how could I not? You were always so genuine and down-to-earth, even when everyone else was trying to act like they were too cool. But I never thought you saw me like that.”

Luke couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. The weight of all the missed opportunities and the years of wondering seemed to lift in that moment. “I guess we were both kind of clueless, huh?” he said with a chuckle.

“Seems like it,” you agreed, laughing softly.

The laughter between you both faded into a comfortable silence as you locked eyes, the reality of your shared feelings settling in.

“Well,” Luke said, his voice a little more confident now, “I’m really glad we’re here now. And, y/n, I don’t want to let this chance slip by again. I’ve thought about this for a long time, and I’d really like to see where this could go.”

Your smile grew, your eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and warmth. “I’d like that too, Luke,” you replied, your voice sincere.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of easy conversation and shared laughter. As you both walked out of the bar, the city lights casting a soft glow on the streets, Luke couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. This was what he had wanted for so long, and now that it was finally happening, it felt even better than he’d imagined.

When you reached the corner where you’d have to part ways, Luke turned to you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “So, can I take you out again? Maybe a proper date this time?” he asked, his tone light but hopeful.

You grinned, nodding. “I’d love that, Luke. And maybe next time, you can show me around more of the city.”

“It’s a date,” he said, his smile widening.

Luke bade you goodbye, turning on his heels and beginning down the street.

“Hey, Luke!” you called after him. Luke turned, locking eyes with yours that sparkled beneath the street lights. “Please don’t let me slip away again.”

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 40: Home

Jackson holds a celebration. The final chapter of Yearling found on Tumblr in its entirety here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut :) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 7.7k

A/N: We are through the spoiler-y portion now and you're all OK to read from here if you just want to see how the fic starts to come to a close. There is no more overlap with TLOU 2.

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter

December, 2002 

“Is that pot?” 

Your oldest brother, Brendan, damn near jumped out of his skin, looking around frantically for a moment before his eyes settled on you and he calmed, his hand going to his chest. 

“Shit, bug,” he said. “Yell it, why don’t you.” 

“If I yell it, Mom’ll take it away,” you said, joining him at the fence on the edge of your father’s property, climbing up and perching next to him in the moonlight. “But that means I need motivation to keep my big mouth shut so you’d better fuckin’ share.” 

He scoffed but passed you the joint, anyway. You took it and breathed deep, pulling the smoke into your lungs and holding it there until the urge to cough was too strong and you gave into it, handing the joint back to your brother, clouding the winter air with a pot-scented haze. 

“Jesus, getting high with my baby sister,” he chuckled. “Never thought I’d see the day.” 

“It’s because you’re getting old,” you teased lightly. He smiled and shook his head, taking a hit before passing it back to you. You took a hit, too, a smaller one this time, trying to make smoke rings as you breathed it out. “So. How’ve you been?” 

“Good,” he nodded slowly, taking the joint back. “Thinkin’ about starting up my own ranch…” 

“No shit?” You asked, brows raised. He nodded. “Good for you. Think you’d be good at it. I do gotta ask though… This have anything to do with Amanda?” 

You teased out the last word and he laughed. 

“Was waitin’ for that,” he said. “Talked to Mom have you?” 

“Here and there,” you said. “You really ask for Gran’s ring?” 

“Jesus…” 

“C’mon,” you elbowed him. “You’re thinkin’ of marrying her?” 

“More than thinkin’,” he smiled a little. “If I’m marrying anyone, it’s her.” 

He took another hit and passed the joint back to you and you nodded, mulling that over in your head. Your brother, settled down enough to get married and start a ranch of his own. It seemed like a completely foreign concept but it was one you liked. 

“You’d like her,” he said after a few minutes. “Amanda, I mean. She might come to New Year’s, think you two would get on like a house on fire. She’s studying to be a vet, specializing in large animals. Only person I know who likes horses as much as you.” 

“Damn,” you said, taking a hit yourself. “She does sound great. Too good for you, that’s for damn sure…” 

He snorted. 

“Don’t I know it.” 

You passed him the joint again. 

“Can I ask you something?” You said after sitting in silence for a minute. 

“Shoot.” 

“How do you know?” You asked. 

He frowned. 

“Know what?” 

“Know that…” you sighed. “I don’t know, know that she’s the one? That you want to marry her and all that shit?” 

He smiled a little, nodding knowingly as he did. 

“Well,” he said. “Sounds dumb, but… when you know, you know.” 

“Jesus,” you rolled your eyes and he laughed. 

“I’m serious,” he said. “You’ll know. But… Well, she’s my favorite damn person. I don’t want to do anything without her if I can help it. I love everything about her, even the shit that drives me nuts. Mostly, though, I just want to live life with her, you know? Want to go grocery shopping and do dishes and fuckin’ mow the lawn… all that shit. It all sounds great because it’d be with her. That’s how you know.” 

You nodded slowly, trying to imagine feeling that way about anybody. It didn’t really seem possible.

“Don’t sweat it too much, bug,” he said, clapping you on the shoulder. “You got plenty of time before you need to worry about that shit. No need to rush into it. Just wait until the time is right and you’ve found the right person and then you’re good. It’ll all work out in the end.” 

He was right, you thought as you nodded again. You had all the time in the world but, eventually, you’d find someone you’d want to share it with. Even if that sounded insane now, you thought you would. You looked up at the cold, December sky, the universe stretched out before you and you took a deep satisfying breath. 

“Yeah,” you said. “I think it will.” 

***

July 20, 2029 

“Joel, where the hell is your wife?” 

Tommy and Joel both looked at each other before looking to Maria, confused. 

“Don’t think it was my turn to watch ‘er,” Joel said, setting his whiskey down. “Actually, think it was the exact opposite of my turn to watch her what with tradition and all…” 

“Well maybe it should have been because I can’t find her,” Maria said, clearly flustered. “I’ve checked your place, her old place, the room she was supposed to be getting ready in…” 

Joel smiled a little to himself, shaking his head and getting up from the table. There was one obvious place Maria hadn’t checked. 

“Maybe she’s gettin’ cold feet,” Tommy teased, smirking. “Lord knows she’s too smart for you, anyhow. Maybe she figured it out…” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel said, adjusting the collar on his shirt. He was in too good a mood to even give his brother shit back. “Don’t think it works that way if you’ve already been married a year and a half. Besides, I think I know where to find her…” 

“Just tell me,” Maria groaned, half-heartedly trying to stop him. “I’ll go. It’s bad luck for you to do it.” 

“Think we already had more than our share of that,” he said, giving her a wink. “Think we’ll be OK.” 

He left his brother’s kitchen and started toward the stables, walking in the opposite direction of most of the town, everyone making their way toward the gathering place in the middle. They gave him warm smiles and nods and congratulations as he passed and he smiled back, a little bubble of warmth in his chest that swelled as he made his way to you. Because while Maria might not know where you were, he sure did. 

He heard you before he saw you. 

“You’re doing good,” you said. “Try not to let your fingers get ahead of where your mind is though, that’s where you’re stutterin’ a bit…” 

“Easy for you to say,” Joel almost heard Savvy’s eyes roll as she teased you. “You don’t have as many fingers to keep track of.” 

You barked a laugh at that as Joel came into the stable. You were perched on the wall of Perseus’ stall, Savvy and Ellie sitting on either side of you, the guitar he’d made for Savvy in her arms. She noticed him before you did, giving him a little smile. 

“Here,” she said, passing the guitar to you. “You should play something Dad likes since you’re getting married today and all.”

“Look at you, bein’ all sentimental,” you teased lightly back. But you took the guitar and drummed on it for a moment before settling on a song. “Alright, this is the first thing he ever played me. His version is better but this song always makes me think of him now.” 

Joel just leaned against the door, watching and listening as you played I’m On Fire, that warm glow in his chest somehow growing as you did, wondering if you could possibly be any more perfect. You were wrong about one thing, though. Your version was better.

It had taken you a while to pick up the guitar again. You’d been back more than two months when he came home from a short patrol to find you on the couch, the guitar he made you in your arms and a determined - if frustrated - look on your face. You glanced up at him when he came in before looking back at the instrument. 

“I’m tryin’ real hard not to throw this,” you said, arranging your intact hand on the neck of the guitar. “But it’s pissing me off.” 

“Think I’d rather you throw the pillow,” Joel said wryly, coming to sit beside you. You rolled your eyes. “Want to show me?” 

“Not really,” you said but you did anyway, starting to play the way you had for years and then seeming to forget that you had two fewer fingers, notes missing and fumbled and you shouted in frustration, almost throwing the guitar before clenching your jaw and moving to set it on the coffee table. Joel took it from you before you could, setting it on the other side of the couch before pulling you against him and kissing the top of your head. 

“You were sounding good there, baby,” he said, stroking your arm. You scoffed. “Mean it, you were.” 

“Yeah, I was playin’ a mess of bullshit there at the end,” you said. “Real good.” 

“It’s gonna take time, sweetheart,” he said gently. “You spent a long time playing the way you used to. Takes a while to adjust. You’ll get there…” 

“Because there are so many famous eight-fingered guitarists,” you muttered, your voice thick. 

“Sure, but you’re better than every guitarist I’ve ever heard of,” he said, tugging you closer. “You will get there, baby. If anyone can it’s you.” 

You sighed but snuggled into him and he hoped that you believed him. He wasn’t just saying it. Something inside him knew that you’d find a way to make music again the way you used to. 

He was right. It took a few weeks - a few weeks of almost perpetual frustration - but you got there. He watched it happen, the moment it seemed to click into place almost startling in its clarity. You were playing in the kitchen while he cooked, not really working on anything in particular, just seeing what sounds you could pull from your instrument and how you could make them work together in that way you had when, all of a sudden, you played a few notes in quick succession. Joel frowned to himself and glanced over his shoulder, hoping you weren’t paying attention to him. You weren’t. You were intently focused on the guitar, your hands frozen on it for a moment before you did it again, adding more chords this time. The next thing he knew, you were playing the riff from Layla, laughing as you did. 

“Joel!” You looked over to him after playing it a few times and he’d stopped pretending he wasn’t watching you, just leaning against the counter so you had the space to do what you needed to do. “Did you hear that?” 

“Yeah baby,” he smiled. “Sure did.” 

You made a giddy little noise and carefully arranged the guitar in your arms again before starting over. He had to practically pry the instrument away from you when dinner was done but you were beaming when he did, even though the place where you’d lost fingers was bleeding from the guitar strings. 

Joel made you something after that, a simple piece of leather that covered that sensitive place and looped down around your wrist. It seemed to work wonders for you, making it easier to play guitar and work with the horses and he let himself feel good about it. He’d done something for you that made your life here better. He could still take care of you, still give you what you needed. They hadn’t taken that, too. 

It still took a while for things to get back to normal. Or close to normal, anyway. After everything that had happened over the last two years, Joel didn’t think there was any real way to go back. You still woke up afraid some nights, his leg still bothered him more often than not. But there were good changes, too. Savvy had moved into the bedroom you’d set up for her, happy to have her mother to come home to again. Ellie came around all the time, often with her girlfriend in tow - something that had taken Joel by surprise but had settled into quickly. You’d even become more involved in Jackson, joining the council in the most recent election after Maria encouraged you to run. When the results had come in you sat there, wide eyed, for a moment before you got up and smiled and thanked people for voting for you. It was the shortest acceptance speech Jackson ever had. 

While he wouldn’t want to go back and relive the worst of those times, he was starting to think the heartache was there for a reason. It was to get you both here, to this place, building your family and community together. 

You finished the song and Ellie and Savvy clapped and you scoffed. 

“Sounded real good there, baby,” Joel said from his place by the door. You didn’t jump at the sound of his voice, instead just looking over your shoulder back to him. “Tryin’ to show me up?” 

“Nah,” you smiled, handing the guitar to Ellie and jumping down from your perch. “Never could with I’m On Fire. Other shit, though…” 

He laughed and shook his head a little as you walked over to him, a blissful smile on your face, and he gave himself a chance to really appreciate you in that moment. 

Joel always thought you were beautiful. You were beautiful when he’d first seen you in the forest years ago now, you were beautiful when you fell asleep against him when watching movies, you were beautiful when you came home covered in sweat and dirt and the smell of horse. But damn, were you ever beautiful here, like this. You were in a white eyelet lace dress that went down to your ankles, dropping low enough at the neck that the swell of your breasts were going to be a constant fucking temptation. Savvy had made you a crown of flowers that sat on your head and Joel’s old wedding band hung on a chain around your neck and your cowboy boots had been polished to shining and damn did he want to sweep you off your feet and carry you back home to hide you away from everyone else looking that good. 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re the most beautiful woman on the damn planet?” He asked as you draped your arms around his neck and his hands found your waist. 

“You,” you smiled, your eyes crinkling at the edges with it. “From time to time.” 

“Should say it more then,” he smiled back. “Been slacking.” 

“You’re not supposed to see her, you know,” Ellie said, trying to sound stern but smiling a little instead. “Maria told me.” 

“Well someone decided to sneak away without tellin’ anyone where she was headed,” Joel teased lightly. 

You just smiled broader. 

“The important people knew where to find me,” you said. 

Joel looked between you and the daughters you shared. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Suppose we did.”

He took your hand and the four of you headed for the middle of town, Joel kissing you goodbye in a spot that was a little tucked away so not everyone would catch a glimpse of you. 

“You’re too damn pretty,” he smiled. “Don’t want to spoil it for everyone. See you up there?” 

You smiled back. 

“Try and stop me.” 

Joel wasn’t sure he’d ever felt quite so happy as when he watched you walk down the aisle toward him. The two of you said more traditional vows this time, Savvy and Maria by your side, Ellie and Tommy by his. There was something about making promises to you publicly, where everyone the two of you knew could see, that just felt right. You exchanged new rings this time, ones made of the antler of a moose Joel had felled a few months earlier, him slipping yours on your middle finger this time. When he kissed you, the rest of the town fell away and it was just you and him, the way it felt like it should be.

The whole town celebrated after, tables put out on the grass and lights hanging from the trees. Someone had rigged up a sound system and the children of Jackson chased each other, weaving in and out of tables shrieking and giggling as they went. You and Joel were sat at a head table with the girls, Tommy, Maria and William and Joel kept his hand on your knee all through dinner. 

To kick off the dancing, Joel tugged you onto the floor, your chin tucked into your chest, and swayed slowly to Hallelujah, so like you had the first time he danced with you, before everything had fallen into place this way. You smiled and pressed close to him, moving alongside him in front of everyone the two of you knew in the world and Joel was happy. 

Back at your table, he was just starting to think of a way to steal you back to the house when Ellie gave you a look, jerking her head off to the side. You gave his shoulder a squeeze and smiled, a little nervously. 

“See you in a second,” you said, before following Ellie, who was whispering conspiratorially with you. 

“What in the hell…” Joel frowned, watching you. 

“Just have to wait and see, Dad,” Savvy said, looking far too pleased with herself. 

He didn’t have to wait long. You and Ellie returned with your guitar and a boom box, Tommy setting up a chair for you in the middle of everything so everyone could see you before cutting the music. 

“Hey, everyone!” Tommy yelled, his hands cupped around his mouth like a megaphone. “Pay attention to my baby sister!” 

The whole of Jackson obeyed and Joel could tell that you were fighting the urge to just go and be next to him, far from the public eye. Instead, you stood next to Tommy, the guitar Joel made you dangling from your hand, Ellie standing nearby next to the boom box. 

“Thanks, everyone, for comin’ tonight,” you said, your accent thick like it was when you got nervous. Joel smiled a little, the sound of home coming from your lips. “Means a lot to us that you’re here and sharing this with us. It means a lot to me, especially. I know it took me some time to settle in here because I ain’t had somewhere to call home with anyone other than my daughter for a real long time. But here feels like home, and the way everyone here has welcomed us… it means everything to me. 

“Now, a lot of y’all may not know it but…” you took a deep breath and Joel could see you try to swallow your nerves. “I’m something of a musician. I don’t much like playing for anyone besides family but since I feel like y’all are family now, well… seemed only appropriate I play for everyone here tonight.” 

You sat down and rested the guitar on your lap. 

“Music’s always been the way I get my feelings out,” you said, now focused on Joel. His heart swelled. “I’ve never been great with words and I love you just doesn’t feel like enough when it comes to you, Joel. This ain’t much but… feels closer at least.” 

You gave Ellie a nod and she pressed play on the boom box and Joel had to fight to not tear up as you played, the song growing and swelling as it went on, the boom box adding in piano and violin. The music was beautiful and intimate and made Joel think of the quiet mornings he spent with you in his arms, trailing his fingers over your the curve of you, your breath warm on his skin, gently kissing his way over you before the world woke up and it was just you and him and the love you made together. He loved those mornings with you, he wanted countless more of them and he could practically see them now, laid out in front of him like the world at his feet.  

When the song ended, the whole of Jackson was silent, the only sound the rustle of the breeze on the trees. You tugged your lower lip between your teeth and, for half a second, looked like you wanted the ground to swallow you up. But then, all at once, everyone broke into applause, thunderous and adoring and you gave Joel a bashful look. Ellie took the boom box and your guitar to stash them away again as you made your way back to him, what seemed like everyone in town on their feet for you as you went. 

“Hope that wasn’t too embarrassing,” you said as Joel pulled you in close. 

“Baby, that was incredible,” he said, giving you a long, deep kiss. “I didn’t even know you’d been workin’ on the piano and the violin again!” 

“I know,” you smiled a little, pressing close and tight to him. “You’re a hard man to surprise. But once I figured out the guitar, I wanted to get those back, too. Tommy even helped me tune the piano at my old place.” 

Joel looked to his brother who gave him a small salute before he turned back to you. 

“You’re amazing,” he said, resisting the urge to take off with you then and there. You just rolled your eyes before he kissed you again and he tried to be content with just having his arm around you as everyone in town made their way up to congratulate the two of you. 

After what felt like a small eternity - and a few more dances with you - Tommy finally leaned over to whisper in Joel’s ear. 

“I’ll hold down the fort and make sure the girls are all good,” he said. “Get outta here before you lose your damn mind.” 

“Thanks, man,” Joel clapped him on the shoulder and Tommy just gave him a lopsided smile, one that Joel would would call paternal if it came from anyone else. He supposed it did from Tommy, too, now. It was still an odd thought, his brother finding his way to a wife and a place in the world before Joel had, that Joel was the one playing catch up and, in some ways, relying on his brother for help and guidance. But with you, it felt like he’d more than caught up. He’d come out ahead. 

“Hey,” Joel gave you a little squeeze and whispered in your ear. “What do you say we get outta here, Mrs. Miller?” 

“Really?” Your face lit up and Joel smiled and nodded. “Oh thank fuck, I don’t think I can talk to anyone who isn’t you or the girls again for a week…” 

He laughed a little, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s sneak out…” 

Joel took your elbow as you got up, the dance floor full as Tommy got to his feet, cupping his hands around his mouth like a megaphone again. 

“Ladies and gentleman!” He yelled. “For the last time tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Miller!”

Joel gave him a look and Tommy gave him a wink as everyone turned and clapped. You and Joel waved goodbye before he put his arm around your waist and pulled you tight against his side, leading you home. 

*** 

“Mrs. Miller,” Joel trailed his nose over your cheek, his words quiet in your ear. 

“Hm,” you grunted in response, eyes still closed. 

“C’mon,” he said softly, his hand smoothing over your stomach that was still covered by your wedding dress. “Gotta get up, we got places to be.” 

You opened a skeptical eye at that. The ceiling of your bedroom was painted orange by the sunrise and Joel was there, smiling down at you, his curls still a little unruly from where your fingers had wound in them the night before. 

“Where do we have to be?” You asked. “Pretty sure we get the day after our wedding off.”

“We do,” he said, his hand gliding over you, between your breasts in the low cut of your gown, over your chest to cup your cheek. “But still want to get an early start. Made you coffee, let’s go.” 

“Early start for what?” You asked, sitting up now. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled. “You’ll like it, promise. Think you can ride a horse in that pretty dress of yours?” 

You gave him an incredulous look. 

He laughed. 

“Fair enough. Then let’s get goin’.” 

“Do I need to pack a bag or anything?” You asked, trying not to groan as you got out of bed. 

“Already handled,” he said. “All I need is my beautiful wife to come along for the ride.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Think I can manage that.” 

You had coffee and slices of leftover wedding cake with Joel before walking with him, hand in hand, to the stables, the sound of Jackson just coming to life around you as you went. 

It felt a little silly to still be in your wedding dress but, you had to admit, it was a damn nice dress.

Staying in it the night before had been Joel’s idea. His lips had been working their way over your throat to your ear before he whispered to you there. 

“That dress of yours comfortable?” He asked, a little breathless. 

“Yeah,” you panted, pulling back just enough to frown at him. “Why?” 

“Because,” he said, taking a moment to nip at your lower lip. “Did things backwards our first wedding night, already had you naked when we said our vows. Kinda want to have you in the white dress, make a real pretty mess of you in it.” 

You smiled, reaching up and trailing your fingers through his hair. 

“Whatever you want, Mr. Miller.” 

He made you come four times in that dress the night before and you passed out in his arms before you could will yourself to move enough to take it off, too tired from the day of celebrations to bother changing once he was done with you. 

It had been Joel’s idea to have a wedding ceremony. He’d brought it up a few months before, once you’d fallen back into life in town again, things as normal as they could be now. You still sometimes felt the ache of fingers that were no longer yours, you still sometimes woke up afraid that your daughters were gone, but you’d healed, too. Your skin was no longer broken and raw, you could play the music you loved again, you could go down the hall and look in on Savvy when you woke up afraid she was gone. 

“We’re already married, Joel,” you laughed at him, your feet on his lap as you played guitar one night when Savvy was out with Kyle. Orion snuggled closer to your knee. “You forget that just because we don’t wear the rings anymore?” 

“Never forget that,” he smiled a crooked smile at you as he massaged the arch of your foot. “One of the best damn nights of my life. But… I think now’s a good time to celebrate that with our family. Girls weren’t there for it, neither was Tommy. Think it’d be nice to do it again with them.” 

You nodded slowly, mulling it over. It wasn’t a bad thought. You did want to share that with Savvy and Ellie, especially now that Savvy would actually be happy about it. And you knew that Joel had missed Tommy and Maria’s wedding, something he regretted now that he had a proper life here in Jackson. You understood why he’d want his brother there. You’d want your brothers there, too, if they were still alive. 

“Sure,” you said eventually. “Let’s do it. Have witnesses when you make promises to me this time around, really hold you to that shit…” 

He laughed at that. 

“Damn right, baby,” he said. “You can hold me to whatever you want.” 

Plans quickly grew, though, from just your family to family and friends to the whole of Jackson. Warren manipulated patrol schedules so there would be one afternoon that everyone was in town, damn near every chair and table that could be moved set up for the reception. It had become more than a celebration of you and Joel, changing into something celebrating the peace the city had known in the year since Mitchum’s downfall. 

The raider attacks became almost non-existent, patrols hunting down the smaller side groups and wiping them out quickly once Mitchum’s control fell away. After that, even the threat from infected lessened. With fewer people in the forests in the miles around Jackson, there was less reason for them to be there. Patrols had become quiet and mostly peaceful, the town no longer afraid of what they might lose every time the gates to the city opened. 

You were happy for the excuse for the focus to not be entirely on you all night, anyway. You’d never been comfortable being the center of attention and, while you liked having a chance to actually show how much your husband meant to you after years together, having that many eyes on you got old fast. Going home just you and Joel had been a relief. 

“Hey there love birds,” Olivia said when you got to the stable, two sets of reins in her hands. “Ready to get underway?” 

“Think so,” Joel said, taking the reins from her, Renaissance and Ares both packed like they were leaving for a long patrol. “Thanks for doin’ this.” 

“Hey, anything to get her to take a break,” she gave you a wink. “Lord knows she deserves it. Have fun you two.” 

“Joel,” you laughed, almost nervously, following alongside him as he led the horses to the gate. “Where are we going? What’s going on?” 

“You’ll see,” he smiled a little as you reached the gates, handing you Renaissance’s reins. “Just have to keep up.” 

You raised your brows at him and he laughed. 

“Alright, just have to let me lead for a change, how about that?” 

“That, I can do,” you smiled. 

It was an easy ride, you following where Joel led, smiling and laughing and breathing in the fresh, clean scent of the forest as you did. For a while, you so rarely left Jackson after Mitchum. No matter what Joel and Tommy and Maria and Julie said, it didn’t feel safe. The worst things that had ever happened to you had happened outside those walls, it just wasn’t worth the risk to leave. If you were inside, in the house you shared with Joel and Savvy or at the stables or the Tipsy Bison, everything would be OK. 

But you missed the outside, too. You missed how crisp the air was when you were outside, the sound of the animals in the wild, the way the world spread out in front of you vast and unclaimed. 

Joel, Ellie and Julie had been easing you back into it. Julie asked you for help collecting fruit for one of her cocktail plans one day. You’d been hesitant but she convinced you, your whole body stiff the entire two hours you were outside, hyperaware of everything around you. But because you were so aware, you noticed everything too, things you’d missed like the rustle of the grass and the way the air smelled. You were a little more willing to go then. 

Ellie told you she wanted to practice shooting as she got ready to go back out on patrol, taking some time off from it after everything that happened. She asked you when Joel was busy and Olivia was there to take over at the stables and you knew it was contrived but you went with her, anyway. She kept you talking, pointing out different birds and asking questions about things that you knew she knew the answer to but it did make you miss being out in the wild more. When you told her you knew better, Ellie kept pretending she had no idea what you were talking about. 

Joel, at least, hadn’t tried to couch it in anything. He’d been holding you one morning when neither of you had to be anywhere, his fingers trailing gently up and down your arm. 

“Been thinkin’,” he said quietly before pressing his lips to your forehead. “We should take the horses out, go on a short trail ride.” 

You frowned. 

“Why? They’ve been gettin’ plenty of exercise, don’t have any that need to be tested outside of town right now…” 

“Because you could use it,” he said. You stiffened but he kept tracing his fingers over you, up and down.

“Joel…” 

“You’ve been gettin’ out here and there,” he said gently. “And I know you miss it.” 

“I miss how it used to be,” you corrected him. “It’s different now.” 

“Don’t have to be,” he said. “Just come with me.” 

You sighed, but he kept going. 

“Just a few hours, not gonna take you far,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe.” 

You pressed your lips together into a thin line, trying to calm your nerves as he pulled back to look at you, his eyes locked on yours. 

“Would I try to get you to do somethin’ that wasn’t safe?” He asked gently. You gave him a look and he smiled a little. “I’ve got you, baby. Just you and me where you can open the horses up and get back out in the trees a little. I’ll be there the whole time, I’ve got you. S’OK.” 

His eyes were so soft and his face was so open that you sighed and agreed. The first time had been scary. You only went for a few hours but you couldn’t relax the entire time you were gone, fully outside what felt like Jackson’s control for the first time since you’d come back. But Joel was right. He stuck close to you the entire time, always watching for any kind of threat, always ready to protect you. You made it back to Jackson in one piece, the only shots fired to take down a few stray infected ambling through the area. 

He gradually got you to leave the walls of the town more and more, even convincing you to bring Savvy and Ellie along one day, and you realized - as you sat on a picnic blanket with your husband and daughters - that the safety may not have been the walls of the city after all. It may have just been Joel. 

You felt comfortable now, outside Jackson with the man who had become your home, your safest place, your husband twice over. The trees were thinning, four hours into your ride and off the more beaten path. You looked at Joel, brows raised and he smiled. 

“That’s where we’re headed,” he said. “When we get to there, go ahead and open ‘er up, you’ll know where to go.” 

“So mysterious,” you teased and he shrugged, smirking a little, as you broke through the trees. 

The sight was almost damn near idyllic, a small lake that was clear as glass, a cabin with a big front porch complete with a swing sitting on the other side of it. You looked at Joel, mouth open in shock. 

“Me n’Tommy found it few months back,” he smiled. “Been fixin’ it up. Plenty of space for us, the girls, anyone they want to bring along. But… wanted to break it in right, just you and me. Besides, pretty sure I’ve owed you a honeymoon for a while now.” 

You laughed, almost giddy, and pushed Renaissance into a full gallop, skirting along the edge of the water, standing in the stirrups so the air sent the skirt of your dress billowing out behind you. You rode her up to the porch, slipping out of the saddle before she’d come to a full stop, too excited to get a look at the place. You realized there was a small dock just off the porch, a rowboat tied to the side of it, and wildflowers among the grass outside the cabin. 

“I do OK?” Joel asked, getting off Ares and coming up alongside you. 

“This is amazing,” you said, awed, as you took it all in. “I can’t believe you did all this, it’s…” 

You couldn’t find the words, just looking at him, a small smile on his lips. 

“C’mon,” he said, taking your hand and leading you up the front steps. He opened the front door but stopped you from going through it. “You gonna let me carry my wife across the threshold? Always wanted to do that with you in a wedding dress.” 

You laughed a little and draped your arms around his neck. 

“Think that can be arranged.” 

He bent and swept you off your feet and into his arms, making you laugh. 

“Then let’s go, Mrs. Miller.” 

He carried you through the front door and into the living room, some faded couches and mismatched arm chairs around a fireplace. Behind them was a table big enough to have the whole family gathered around it, a set of stairs beyond that and a kitchen off to the side. There was a bundle of wildflowers in a jar of water in the middle of the table, a shelf of board games and cards sitting next to the hearth. 

“Give me a few minutes to get the horses settled,” he said, setting you down and kissing your temple. “Then I’ll show you the best part of this place.” 

You took your time taking in the place, how much care you could tell Joel and Tommy had put into it. You could see places in the wall that had been patched, shelves that had been mounted. There were stores of canned foods in the cupboards, a canister of tea, a jar of honey, even a pair of matching mugs, both chipped with little owls on them that made you smile. In the living room, there was art on the walls: one of a horse grazing in an open field and another of a deer standing next to a moose in a clearing. You smiled, leaning in closer to see Ellie’s signature in the corner. 

“She wanted to contribute,” Joel said from behind you and you turned to face him. He set packs down on the couch and you smiled as he came to you, putting his arms around your waist and tugging you against him. He trailed his lips along your forehead, your temple, down toward your throat, his hands slipping up your sides to slide into the low neck of your dress, making you moan. 

“Want to see my favorite part about this place?” He asked, heat on his voice. You just nodded  and he pushed the top of the dress down, bearing your chest to him. “No one around for miles. All alone out here. So I can have you all to myself, naked, in that water out there.” 

He took the globes of your breasts in his large hands, cradling the weight of them gently in his palms, squeezing you and you groaned at his touch. He kissed you, dipping his tongue into your mouth and you pulled at the buttons of his shirt, opening them one by one. 

“Should get me naked then,” you said breathlessly when he pulled away from you ever so slightly. “That water looks awful inviting.” 

You undressed each other quickly then, Joel’s shirt and pants ending up in a heap on the floor, your dress draped over the couch. He took your hand and led you outside, pulling you along into the cool water. It was smooth and clear on your skin, the sandy bottom of the lake soft on your toes. He pulled you deeper, until the water was up to your shoulders, before tugging you against him. You smiled and he tilted your head so he could kiss you, his thumb over your cheek, fingers curving around the back of your neck. 

“I can’t believe you did all this,” you said quietly as he held you close. His thick, hard cock was pressed against your stomach, your breasts pressed against his wet skin. “You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” he smiled, his forehead against yours. “I want to give you everything, baby.” 

You reached and put your arms around his neck, arching your back against him. 

“You already have,” you said softly. “You gave me you.” 

His hands drifted lower, cupping the round of your ass and lifting you so you could wrap your legs around his waist. His cock was pressed against your slit and you moaned at the feel of it, the way the water and the tip of him moved against your clit already making your pussy tighten. He lifted you, dragging the thick of his length over your sex until he notched his head at your entrance and he moaned. 

“Goddamn baby,” he said, voice tense with want. “Can feel how warm you are inside already…” 

He pulled you down onto him, his cock pressing into you slowly, slow enough that you could feel how he opened you to him, stretching you around him. You groaned, burying your face in his neck and breathing in the smell of him. 

“Fuck you feel good,” his mouth trailed over your neck, your bare shoulder. “So goddamn good, taking me so well…” 

Your fingers sank into his skin and you pressed yourself impossibly closer and tighter to him as he bottomed out inside you, your clit pressed against the base of his stomach, the whole of him thick and heavy inside you. 

“Joel,” you whimpered. “You’re so deep, feel so good…” 

“I know, sweetheart,” he breathed, taking his hands from your ass to your back to clutch you close. “I know.” 

He held you close and tight and you managed to pull your face from his neck to look at him, your eyes on his, noses brushing, breathing into each other as the water cradled you both. You moved together, every rock of your hips and thrust of his slow and aching. You weren’t able to tell where he ended and you began and you could feel his breath quickening as the heat inside you grew stronger, your channel getting tighter. 

“Want you to come for me,” he whispered, voice trembling. “Need to feel you, come on baby and come for me.” 

You could only moan in response, his thrusts growing firmer as you pressed your clit against his skin, his arms tightening around you. You were right on the edge, so close exploding around him. 

“Come with me,” you managed, clinging to him. “Please, I need to make you come, please…” 

He cut you off with a kiss, swallowing your needy sounds, moving in you desperate and claiming. Your orgasm built higher and higher, drawing you so tight around him it seemed impossible until he pulled you so close it almost hurt, body flush to his as you felt him come undone inside of you. 

It only took a moment for the pulsing of his cock to set off your own orgasm, making you throb and flutter around him as rope after rope of his come filled you. For a moment, it was as though you and Joel were the only people left in the world, the way he was around and inside you the only thing you could be sure of then. 

He held you after both your orgasms eased, his softening length still inside you, your head on his shoulder, your arms around him as his lips brushed your neck. The water was still and quiet around you, a soft breeze on the air and you smiled against his skin, a sense of peace settling over you as you did. 

It had taken so long to reach this point, so many years of pain and healing, so much you needed to move past. But it had all led you here, where you were together, where everyone you loved was safe and happy and you didn’t need to be afraid anymore. 

Joel’s hand trailed slowly up and down your spine and he pressed a kiss into your skin. 

“I’m so happy we got here,” you said quietly. 

You felt him smile against your shoulder. 

“Me too, Bambi,” he said, kissing you again before pulling back from him just enough to look you in the eye. “Come a long way in the last few years.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Hard to believe,” you said. “I didn’t think I’d ever have something like this. I didn’t know it was possible to have something like this.” 

“Me, too,” he said. “Makes it feel like all the shit we went through to get here was worth it.” 

“Yeah,” you said, kissing him gently. “It does.” 

You looked in his eyes, just appreciating him for a moment, the tan of his skin and the gray of his hair and the wrinkles and the scars that told the story of everything that he’d survived and felt deeply that he was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever held. 

“So,” he said after a few minutes. “Since this is a honeymoon and all, we got the place to ourselves for as long as we want it but figure we’ll want to get back to the girls before too long. What are you thinkin’ baby?” 

You hummed for a moment, considering. 

“Well,” you said. “I do miss the girls. But… I like having you all to myself. Think I want to stay here, where I can take advantage of the fact that I can get you naked whenever I want, for at least a few days. Maybe a week.” 

He smiled. 

“Week sounds good,” he said. 

“Plus,” you said. “We can always come back in the future. Have as many honeymoons as we want.” 

“Yeah,” he smiled wider. “We can. We got time.” 

You kissed your husband, soft and slow, before pulling away and smiling back at him. 

“We do,” you said. “We have all the time in the world.” 

A/N:

Hi, everyone!

I cannot believe we are here. Exactly one year ago today I published the first chapter of Yearling and now I'm publishing the last.

Thank you so so so much for going on this journey with me, Joel and Bambi. These characters have meant so much to me over the past year and it has been just an absolute joy to share them with you. I hope you've enjoyed how they've grown together and built the life they'll have from here on out.

If you'd like to keep reading what I'm sharing, I am starting up another few fics. There's an AU of Yearling that you can find here and I am working on another Joel fic that is a no-outbreak AU where Joel is reader's bodyguard. It's called The Savage and the Sanctuary and you can find that here.

I've always been bad at saying goodbye, so I won't do that. I will just say thank you for coming on this adventure with me and for all the love and support you've shared. I hope to see you again soon.

Be well, take care of yourselves, and spread a little kindness in the world.

Love you!!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust @ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost @beccerjune @mumma-moonchild @netonetoneto @mellymbee @purplelye @n7cje @flugazi @evyiione @randomhoex @aliengirl99 @orcasoul @reds-ramblings @pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel @jenispunk @panda-pascal @sarap-77 @flugazi @your-slutty-gf @daniegraceg @partyofone3413 @cumberpegg @noisynightmarepoetry. @fifia-writes @grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123 @ashleyfilm @arizonadreamingg

[jflemings]

— party of two

pairing: ucla!jessie fleming x ucla!reader

synopsis: jessie saves you during a frat party, forcing the two of you to confront your feelings head on

warnings: angst lol, unwanted male attention, mild homophobia, jealous!jessie, insecure jessie if you squint, the downstairs bathroom is a character of its own

a/n: i love teags and jess 🫶🏼 my bruins girls 🫶🏼 (this took an angsty turn whoops)

the stale smell of alcohol and sweat invades your senses as you shoulder through the crowded living room of the frat house. you smile politely at the people you know, squeezing past a guy you know from you psych class. his name — brendan or braeden, or something — escapes you as he turns around. the two of you are chest to chest and right in eachother’s personal space, allowing him to easily grip your shoulder and lean right down in your ear, basically leaning his cheek on your own.

his hot breath fans over the shell of your ear “i didn’t know you were coming” he shouts over the loud music, putting his hand on your shoulder as a means to get closer.

you shrug in an attempt to rid your shoulder of him “it was a last minute thing” you yell back before trying to step away from him.

he pulls away from you momentarily and smiles whilst nodding his head, allowing you to smell the vodka on his breath. his tanned hand rubs your shoulder in what you’re sure he thinks in an affectionate manner. you make the attempt to step around him to no avail and your face drops seeing that more people have managed to pack themselves into the already crowded space.

“i was thinking” he begins to say, squeezing your shoulder so you look at him. he’s not ugly, per say, and he seemed like a relatively nice guy everytime you did speak to him but you were into women. women who had freckled cheeks and curly brown hair and who got pissy everytime you scribbled on the corner of her page aimlessly.

before he can speak again he’s shoved from behind and because of his tipsy state, he doesn’t have the reflexes to stop the jungle juice in his cup from spilling all down your chest and top.

you grimace at the sticky feeling and begin to regret wearing such a revealing shirt. you can feel the alcohol drip down you collarbones and the valley of your breasts, furrowing your brows at the sticky feeling and the smell you know is going to linger for the rest of the night.

he shoves his friends blindly “i am so sorry, let me help you clean that up”

“no i’ve got it. i was just heading to the bathroom anyway” you shoot him a tight lipped smile and begin to go in the direction of the only downstairs bathroom.

he follows closely behind and pushes the bathroom door open for you quickly, watching you turn the tap on and reach for a towel. his eyebrows shoot up “let me go get you some paper towel” he says before scampering off, finally leaving you alone.

you don’t bother waiting for him and instead use the last of the toilet paper to clean yourself off. you run it under the tap and pat your chest, trying to rid your skin of the sticky feeling. you can definitely still smell it on your shirt but you’re more worried about getting away from this guy rather than what you smell like so you quickly turn on your heel and walk out of the bathroom.

“y/n!” he yells over the music, a few paper towels fluttering in his hands “did you clean up alright?”

“yeah! yeah, i’m good” you say tight lipped before jerking a thumb behind you “i’m just gonna find my friends”

he once again reaches for your shoulder “hey, y’know i was just wondering if maybe you’d let me take you on a date?” he slurs slightly, his green eyes boring into you “you’re like hot, and smart and stuff. i just wanna get to know you better” he shamelessly checks you out, his eyes hungrily taking over your form.

he’s had a fair bit to drink, that’s obvious, but you don’t even get the chance to say no before he’s talking again “people say that you like girls but, honestly, are you sure? if you’ve never been with a guy how can you be sure?”

you make a point of rolling your eyes before shrugging him off and looking around. it’s only when one of his buddies loudly catches his attention does he tear his eyes away from you, yelling back at his friend.

you beeline for the back door once his back is turned, desperate to find someone you know so that you can shake him. you search every face you pass but come up disappointed each time, sighing deeply at the thought of having to hide in a different bathroom just to get this guy to leave you alone.

the cool air hits your sweaty skin as you step outside. you sneak a glance behind you and see him pushing past a girl he seems to know so he can follow you outside and you huff. can’t he take a fucking hint?

it’s only when you hear teagan micah’s familiar boisterous laugh do you relax a little. you can clearly see the back of her head as she animatedly speaks to some people next to the bonfire, allowing you make your way to her easily.

you appear next to her silently, almost huddling next to the australian in an attempt to hide yourself. she stops mid sentence when she notices you and grins “y/n!” she yells, throwing an arm around you “i’ve been wondering where you were”

you give her a tight lipped smile and duck your head, her arm a welcomed security blanket. when you don’t answer right away she notices the almost distraught look on your face and pulls you into her side.

“what’s up?” she asks thickly

“there’s just this guy from one of my classes— he won’t leave me alone”

teagan’s face hardens and she looks over her shoulder quickly. she looks like she’s about to turn around and mouth off to the next guy that gets in her way when jessie slides up next to the two of you, her hand finding the small of your back easily.

the goalie notices the new presence and in her drunken state, doesn’t immediately see that it’s her teammate. she whips her head around, her mouth open to hand out a snarky comment, before she sees the canadian’s freckled face. “oh!” she says delighted “it’s all good, jessie’s here! that guy should leave you alone now”

she rubs your shoulder affectionately before dropping her arm. she still looks around — in a way that you’re sure she thinks is subtle — before scowling and focusing her attention back to the conversation. jessie on the other hand, is wearing a look of concern as she sits down on the dingy day bed that’s been dragged onto the lawn. her hand stays on the small of your back as she sits “what guy?” she questions quietly.

you chew on your bottom lip for a moment and she drums her fingers on your back “just this guy from one of my classes. he’s kinda been following me around”

jessie can see that you’re clearly uncomfortable and her face softens slightly. she hooks a finger in the belt loop on the back of your jeans and begins to pull you towards her “come ‘ere” she urges whilst spreading her legs.

you let her pull you into her space until you’re standing in between her legs. she keeps an arm around your hips and you place both of your hands onto her shoulders “are you okay? did he touch you?” she says as quietly as she can so she doesn’t draw unwanted attention from her teammates around you.

you shake your head and she immediately lets out a sigh, running her hand across your lower back comfortingly. just the feeling of her arm around you is enough to calm your nerves and you squeeze her shoulders in appreciation.

“sit” she says whilst guiding you into her lap.

you do as she says and settle on her thigh, tossing one leg over the other as you get comfortable. her hand doesn’t leave your waist as you wriggle slightly on her lap, looping both arms around her shoulders gently. the midfielder traces shapes on your body as she takes a sip from her solo cup, making sure to hold eye contact with you through her lashes.

jessie wasn’t an intimidating person by any means but the stare she was pinning you with now definitely made you feel the need to turn away from her. it was the type of look that made you want to do something stupid like kiss her on the mouth.

she slides her hand up your spine and holds the back of your neck whilst ducking her head in an attempt to get you to look into her eyes. “you’re awfully quiet” she teases lightly, squeezing your neck once to get your attention “got something on your mind, pretty girl?”

in an attempt to hide the blush forming on your face you lean your chin on your right arm that’s around the back of jessie’s shoulders. “no” you almost whisper. if your face wasn’t so close to jessie’s ear she probably wouldn’t have heard it which means you wouldn’t have egged her on even more.

“no?” she questions amused “you sure?” she tucks her face into the crook of your neck and breathes in deeply, making your skin prickle. she removes her face from your neck and adjusts her thigh, jolting you in a way that she knows will get your attention. when you tighten your hold around her shoulders and level her with a scowl she smiles and hums, resting her face on just below your collarbone.

she must notice the lingering smell on your chest because her brows are furrowed when she looks at you questioningly. “jungle juice” you say shortly “he spilt it on me when he was trying to make a move”

the canadian rolls her eyes “asshole” she mutters before taking another swig of her drink. she drags her hand back down the length of your back slowly and settling it on the waistband of your jeans. “who is this guy anyway. do i know him?”

you play with her baby hairs at the base of her skull absentmindedly “brendan, or braeden, i don’t know”

“mustn’t be that memorable then” jessie hums, leaning back into your hand and closing her eyes. you smirk at her reaction and tug the hair experimentally making her eyes snap back open. jessie pulls you impossibly closer to her, dragging you up her lap until your thigh is pressed against her abdomen. she looks like she’s decidedly wether or not to kiss you for a moment before ultimately making her decision and craning her neck. you thread your fingers in her hair and move just as slow towards her, wanting nothing more that to kiss her stupid.

“y/n!”

you shut your eyes tightly and sigh at the sound of your name before turning and looking over your shoulder. braeden— or brendan, you still don’t know— smiles and inserts himself into the group. jessie leans back against the thin pillows lining the back of the day bed and frowns. he can’t be fucking blind can he?

“hey…” you trail off awkwardly “what’s up?”

“you ran off, i couldn’t find you!” he answers enthusiastically, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. he must really be gone because he seems to be completely oblivious to the looks that teagan and jessie are levelling him with.

you feel jessie’s hand thats on your back travel down and rest on your bum, her other hand sliding along the denim of your thigh. “brandon” she says unamused and your eyebrows raise.

“you know him?”

brandon looks over your shoulder and seemingly sees jessie for the first time. his eyes rake over your body and linger on the position of her hand “fleming” he greets politely before turning to you “soccer. we train together sometimes” he explains as if it’s that simple, getting caught up in jessie’s stare before he looks away “sorry, i didn’t know you two were…”

“together. dating. girlfriends.” she finishes curtly for him before patting your thigh for emphasis “but now you do so it’s all good” she shrugs and smiles sweetly. you see teagan stifle a laugh behind her cup, raising her eyebrows at you suggestively once you catch her eye.

apparently brandon wasn’t the only one who didn’t know you and jessie were dating because up until now, neither of you had confronted your feelings head on let alone put a label on your situation.

brandon gives you an apologetic smile and a nod before scurrying away with his tail between his legs. jessie remains sat back and continues to stroke your thigh whilst you refuse to look at her. confusion and embarrassment bubble in your stomach and you suddenly have the urge to get off jessie’s lap and get away from her.

you pull your arms off her “i’m gonna go to the toilet” you say whilst standing “i’ll be five minutes”

the canadian immediately sits up straight and grabs your hand “you okay?” she asks you, the concern evident on her face.

“yep, just really need to pee” your response is uneasy and you shoot her a tight lipped smile before making your way back to the house. you resist the urge to look back at your apparent girlfriend, choosing to pick your nails to keep you distracted instead.

you find yourself weaving through bodies once again and breathe a sigh of relief when you see the bathroom you were in before unoccupied. you brace yourself against the counter and press a hand to your chest before turning on the tap. the water runs over your warm hands soothingly and you place a palm to your heated cheek.

you can’t recall a time when you’d seen jessie get so outwardly jealous. her naturally timid nature just didn’t allow her to be so quick to voice her distain in a situation off a soccer field. it was undeniably hot but it also left you feeling like you had been kept out of the loop. it was obvious to everyone around you that the pair of you weren’t just friends. you had bering toeing the line between friends and something more for far too long now but not once had you or jessie ever verbalised your feelings, leaving them locked up safely.

but you didn’t need verbal confirmation. you knew how jessie felt about you and she knew how you felt about her.

three knocks to the door interrupt your blurred train of thought, making you jump out of your skin “occupied!” you practically shout

“it’s me” says the voice beyond the door, the unmistakable canadian accent making your skin prickle “i just wanna talk”

stepping away from the mirror, you quickly unlock the door and go back to leaning against the counter. you close your eyes just as you hear the door open and close softly, jessie’s presence almost suffocating you in the small room.

“i shouldn’t have said that” she begins, her hand hovering over your back like she’s unsure if she can touch you. she decides against it “that wasn’t fair on you and in all honesty, i don’t really know why i said it. i think i was just so frustrated that it came out but that isn’t an excuse”

“jess” you sigh heavily, opening your eyes so you can look at her through the mirror “you know that there’s nothing to be jealous about”

jessie’s cheeks burn as she leans on the opposite wall and tucks her hands behind her back. she quickly looks down at her old worn nikes that are scuffing against the tile. “yeah” she weakly says “hey, well, i just wanted to come find you and apologise so i’ll get out of your hair”

sudden anger overtakes you. first she was going to announce in front of all your friends that the two of you were dating and now she won’t even stay and give you a proper explanation?. you shake your head and spin around quickly “jessie don’t you dare” you say sternly, making her stop in her tracks “i deserve an explanation, a real one, not some half-assed apology that you can’t even look me in the eye for”

the canadian’s shoulders sag as she turns to look at you with her hands tucked in her pockets. she looks up to the ceiling and lets out a shaky breath before looking at you “brandon and i have had issues before. about you.”

the confession shocks you. you had barely spoken to brandon besides a few short conversations and note sharing, but beyond that you didn’t know a thing about him. “about me?”

“he just… he was just being disrespectful one afternoon and we got into it, okay!?” she exclaims defensively “and he was just saying shit about you and me, and how you would never date a girl anyway so i should just leave it alone” she shrugs, casting her eyes back down to her feet “when he came over i felt like i had something to prove but i made you uncomfortable in the process. i’m so sorry”

your eyes soften and you tilt your head. tenderly you reach for her hands and pull them out of her pockets and hold them in yours “why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“because it’s embarrassing!” she stresses, looking at you with glassy eyes “the fact that i let some guy get me worked up over practically nothing is embarrassing, y/n. half of the boy’s soccer team thinks that i’m just the little gay lost puppy following a straight girl around begging for a chance.”

jessie screws her eyes shut and takes her hands out of your own “i really am sorry for telling him that we’re dating without talking to you about it. that was wrong, and i know that”

you brush a few of jessie’s stray baby hairs back and let her calm down, having worked herself up again. she blinks back tears and you take her face in your hands “i really would’ve preferred you talk to me about this jess, i had no idea that they were giving you a hard time about me”

she she begins to shake her head you hold her head more firmly “they don’t know anything, okay? they. don’t. know. anything. they have no idea how i feel about you” you assure softly, making sure to keep eye contact with her “i know we don’t say it, or hardly acknowledge it, but i really, really like you”

“i really really like you too” she all but whispers to you “i’m sorry i didn’t talk to you about it”

“make it up to me?”

jessie’s pupils blow out wide and she quickly looks between your lips and eyes, her hands finding your hips and hooking her thumbs into your belt loops. she licks her lips and swallows thickly before smashing her lips into yours.

your hands wrap around her shoulders and pull her into you even further, allowing you to walk back until you hit the counter. jessie leans into you, your mouths slotting together perfectly, and she plants her hands on either side of you body on the bathroom counter.

you can’t help but smirk and swipe your tongue along jessie’s bottom lip slowly. she parts her lips and allows you to slide your tongue into her mouth just as you wrap one of your hands in her ponytail. she hums into your mouth when she feels your hand in her hair and knocks her knee in between your thighs, separating them slightly and gaining the upper hand.

the midfielder crawls a hand up the length of your spine and hold the back of your neck whilst pressing herself impossibly closer to you.

a loud knock on the door leaves the two of you jumping out of your skins. jessie’s knee hits the cabinet below you loudly and she groans in pain “fuck”

“hurry the fuck up!” a booming voice comes from outside the door, whoever is on the other side clearly not happy with how long the only clean bathroom in the house has been occupied for.

“this bathroom is too clean to be used” jessie mumbles against you, rolling her head along your collarbone and shoulder as she straightens out her leg.

you mourn the loss off the warmth between your thighs as you let go of the girl’s ponytail “someone’s poor girlfriend is cleaning this bathroom” you grimace “she must really like him”

she lifts her head off you and your eyes are immediately drawn to her slightly swollen lips. you half smirk and run a thumb over them, collecting lip gloss that had been transferred and wiping it on your jeans “you don’t make your girlfriend clean your dirty bathroom” jessie says as she rolls her eyes “that’s just being lazy”

“so you wouldn’t make me clean your bathroom?” you ask innocently, folding your hands in front of you.

jessie’s eyebrows raise “my bathroom is already clean, thank you very much” she pointedly says “you’ve seen it, you should know”

“jessie”

“what?”

you toss your arms out beside you and give her a look of disbelief “i just gave you the perfect opportunity to ask me to be your girlfriend and you’re telling me how clean your bathroom is”

jessie opens and closes her mouth “you want to be my girlfriend?” she asks “are you sure?”

“of course i’m sure” you say softly “i thought that was obvious”

she grins wide and holds her hand out for you to take, which you do immediately, before leading you out of the bathroom and through the crowd of students. you think she’s taking you back out to the bonfire and your friends before she heads for the front door of the frat house, her grip tightening on your hand as you pass brandon and his group of friends.

you can’t help but cheekily wag your fingers at him as you pass before pressing your body right against jessie’s and wrapping a hand around her arm “where are we going?” you ask loudly into her ear

she looks at you over her shoulder with a sly smile on her face “my place. i’ve still gotta make it up to you”

[longreads]

Open to the Outlandish: A Conversation with Rebecca Renner

With the Creative Nonfiction Podcast, Brendan O’Meara takes us behind the scenes to learn more about how longform stories get made. In this excerpt, he talks to author and journalist Rebecca Renner about getting that first draft down, the importance of a strong editor, and how a story evolves from pitch to publication. 

Brendan: What you were saying a while ago, you were just urged to write, just get stuff down on the page. It’s really important to do that, because that early draft, that rough draft, or maybe the zero draft, as Roy Peter Clark might call it, it’s terraforming the world or making the map. And there are always going to be gaps in that cartography, and you’ve got to feel like “Okay, here’s a dark spot in the map. How do we fill this in?” But sometimes you don’t know that gap is there until you start and it reveals what else you need to do. Unless you have—for lack of a better term—the courage to start and write before you’re ready, that stuff has a tendency to always be in the shadows, and you need to write your way through it.

Rebecca: I’ve actually been reading The Creative Act by Rick Rubin. And I feel like some people think that book is a little woo woo. I did when I first started reading it, but I really like how he talks about being open to the possibilities of the creative act and the potential there, being able to get into the flow state and stopping yourself from self-criticism and over-analyzing, getting yourself to open up. That has been one of the most important things to do in my creative process because I have to remind myself that I have all the things I need; it’s all there. And then I don’t have to keep going out and getting more details or over-report things, which I have a problem doing, or even in fiction that I just have to believe that I have the story and that I have to get it down. Then I’ll see the lacunae.

Check out the full interview.

[kurithedweeb]

In my recent post about base game Minecraft mobs in MCD rewrites, I mentioned that I like to include random little scenes from canon and I got a comment from @lucky-guess asking if I’d include Aph eating rotten flesh. I thought “maybe I will, it’d be funny.” I remember the time Brendan startled her and she accidentally ate the zombie brains in her hand. I was thinking about this comment and I had a Very Good Idea.

You know how Garroth was pretty hands-off with Aph at the start of Season 1? They’d talk, sure, but he just let her wander around and fix things up, he had bigger things to worry about until he realized that, hey, she’s basically a Lord now.

Here’s how it goes:

You’re the head guard of a tiny rundown coastal village, and you’ve been scrambling to keep everything together ever since a mysterious fire killed your Lord. Your apprentice has been a great help and he’s the only one who knows the real scope of your worries, your guards have been stressed enough with all the suspicion and accusations and extra patrols and they don’t need to carry the same weight you have on your shoulders.

It’s another dreary day of rain, one of your guards is recovering from a bad injury, and you’re not halfway through evening patrol when a random maiden crashes out of the woods. She’s only wearing what amounts to underwear, drenched, barefoot, her arms and legs are covered in mud and there are twigs in her tangled hair. She looks half-feral and the look in her eyes does nothing to discourage that.

You, obviously concerned that she’s being chased, ask her what happened, is she injured? Please, miss, come inside and take a seat by the fire before you catch your death. The maiden does not care even a little. She says she was chasing a mysterious man in green and have you seen him because she wants to know what’s up with that guy. You have not, and the idea of some random man being chased by this tiny woman is slightly concerning, but all you’re worried about right now is getting this woman inside before she dies of hypothermia. She does not care about hypothermia, she just wants to chase her mystery man.

Suddenly, a sound! A man in what might be green, it’s hard to tell in the rain! That’s the man, the maiden cries! After him!

You will go after him. The maiden will be going inside with your apprentice, right now, please, please go warm up. Your apprentice manages to wrangle the half-feral woman into the nearest open building, the library, and you take off after the mysterious man in maybe-green. You chase him through the trees, down the slippery slope of a hillside, into a clearing. You’ve lost your lantern somewhere along the way, and in the dark you trip on the lip of a crater you’re sure wasn’t there when you last passed through. You know these woods like the back of your hand, but the crater and the mud and the rain have blinded you in a moment of confusion and the man is gone by the time you get your bearings. Any tracks he may have left are too murky to follow. You stumbled back to town in the dark to check on the maiden.

You can call her Anastasia. That’s all your apprentice has been able to learn from her while you were gone. She’s washed, more-or-less dried and in proper clothes thanks to Emmalyn the librarian, maybe you’ll have more luck now that she’s bundled in front of the fireplace with some warm broth in her stomach. She tells you again of the man, of a clearing she didn’t recognize, and nothing of any use. You leave her to rest, thinking maybe she’ll remember more in the morning. She’s gone in the morning.

You’re half-convinced you hallucinated the whole event, but the time you spent that night furiously scrubbing down your armor convinces you it’s true. Anastasia reappears a few days later, breezes past you without a word and starts doing something to the road on the edge of town. You’re a little concerned you’ve possibly begun to lose your mind from the stress except other people are stopping to stare at her too.

For weeks, it continues like this. Anastasia appears in town, drops whatever she’s collected while she’s away at the library (infuriating Emmalyn more and more each time), messes around with a broken-down road or some fences or digs through the bed farmland, and then vanishes for days or weeks at a time. No one knows what she’s doing or what to do about it, but so long as she’s not hurting anyone it’s fine, right? She even helps clear out monsters from time to time.

You think, wasn’t that fence broken last week? Wasn’t that road in disrepair last month? Was that condemned plot of farmland suddenly sprouting healthy grass? Weren’t these Anastasia’s projects? Oh, you realize, she’s been fixing up the village for some reason. She’s been doing a surprising number of Lordly things, actually. And that little hut up on the cliff—was that also her? What else was she doing? She was making her own gear, her own house, helping with farms and patrols, and also apparently taming wolves and teaching them to fish—where did she learn all this stuff anyway?

You ask. She says she doesn’t remember. She says it just seemed obvious to do it like this. She says it seemed like these are just things people are supposed to do. Aren’t they? No? Well, that’s the way she’s doing things. You think she’s joking about not remembering how she knows, well, everything.

And then, as she’s helping clear away the bodies of yet another small horde of zombies, Brendan startles her and Anastasia shoves the zombie flesh into her mouth. SPIT IT OUT, everyone who’d seen this tragedy yells, SPIT IT OUT SPIT IT OUT RIGHT NOW! But no, this crazy weird woman has committed to her mistakes and you can see the disgust on her face as she chews. And swallows. You are fighting the urge to jam your fingers down her throat and make her throw up because you know her well enough to know you’d get stabbed for it on reflex. Within minutes, she is heaving into a bucket, miserable, and saying that she wouldn’t have done it if she’d known it’d make her so sick.

You, holding her hair back as she throws her guts up, realize that she was not joking. She was not joking about not knowing anything. Anastasia, the half-feral maiden from the woods who's been doing basically half a Lord’s duties around the little town under your care, is an amnesiac. She has actual, literal amnesia. That’s the only explanation. Everyone knows never to eat zombie flesh for this exact reason, everyone, no one is that dumb. Oh dear Irene, she’s going to end up doing this again, isn’t she? Anastasia, the woman who’s been caring for this town just as much as you have, is going to die from food poisoning because she can’t remember which berries are bad for you. If not that, then hypothermia. If you leave her alone, she’s done for.

That’s how you end up personally guarding the new Lord of Phoenix Drop. And how you end up breaking her out of jail when she gets wrongly arrested for murder a month later.

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

I do really think we need to talk about fanon vs canon in this fandom. Not because of anything really specific, but rewatching it just makes me realise how things are so different in the way we talk about it vs how they are

And I’m not saying we can’t have fun with fanon… just that sometimes canon is more interesting and we’re missing out on that by not interacting with the actual media

Like, sure, MCD is long as hell but in the earlier episodes at least, ut tends to be segmented into chunks of 5 episodes (Ep5, Visher explosion. Ep10, Brendan Shot. Ep15, Garroth Shot)

And so you just gotta figure out what arcs you’re trying to talk about and WATCH THEM. And then talk about them, because like and this is mostly about me and my ass yapping on about shit I don’t know, but it’s a lot different to actually watch it than to try and recall it. And not only are nuances lost by refusing to watch it, but you’re also just… not having the experience… which is weird bc were meant to be fans isn’t half of that experience actually just watching the series??

[bordysbae]

“he won't stop talking about you” and “i’m scared to meet your family" with brendan

“christmas eve”

brendan brisson x reader

🦋 BORDYSBAES 500 CELLY

— ୨୧ —

“briss, i’m scared to meet your family. what if they don’t like me?” you say as you pace around his apartment, meanwhile brendan finishes packing his bag, while also trying to ease your worries.

“baby, they’re gonna love you. if i love you, so will they. you don’t have to worry about anything,” he reassures you. he stands up from the bed after he finishes packing, and he wraps his arms around you. as you’re pulled closer into his chest, his warmth and cologne both calm you just a little bit.

—

“alright, you ready for a four hour car ride?” brendan asks as he buckles his seat belt. you give him a little smile, while you also try to ignore the feeling of ‘i’m gonna vomit’ that’s lingering in your body. you’re so nervous to meet his family, but you soon realize you had nothing to worry about at all.

as you knock on the front door, it opens and two eager parents are standing waiting to meet you. “you must be y/n, hi darling!” his mom beams, before tugging you into a warm hug. his father gives you a side hug, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t happy to meet you.

“merry christmas eve you guys! how was the drive? is brendan a horrible driver? you can be honest. i try avoiding being in cars with him driving it,” his mom jokes to you.

“no no he’s alright, i’m more cautious than him sure, but someone needs to be right?” you nervously chuckle. his mom and dad both burst out laughing, which instantly relieves your nerves. you and brendan then get settled in his old bedroom, before heading down to christmas eve dinner.

after lots of talking with his family, you realize just how much you have in common with both him, and his family. “oh y/n, honestly you’re the sweetest. no wonder he won’t stop talking about you! it’s always ‘y/n looked so good tonight mom’ or ‘y/n made me cookies after my game i’m gonna marry her!’” his mom teases. brendan’s cheeks heat up, and so do yours. you look at the boy next to you and give him a little smile. you pick up his hand from his lap and entagle it with yours, giving it a little squeeze as an ‘i love you.’

he sends a little squeeze back, and you know that he was right all long. absolutely nothing to worry about.

[slafkovskys]

thank god for ww, but forgive me for what i’m ab to type

i’m thinking ab bratty briss who’s been a little too handsy in public despite you telling him if he doesn’t behave he won’t get what he wants, but he keeps pushing his luck anyway. so finally when you two are alone (me thinks a bathroom at said public place) to suck him off just to the point where he thinks he’s about to finish, and then you walk off and leave him to his own devices. play stupid games win stupid prizes 🤭

your flight had gotten in earlier that morning, and the event was in the afternoon, so you really hadn’t had time to do anything except get ready. you’re in a tight little dress and brendan is in dress pants and his jersey and in the car when he can’t keep his hand from wandering underneath the slit that exposed your thigh, you have to be like, “behave and you’ll get what you want when we get home.”

behaving is not in brendan brisson’s dictionary.

every time that he has a spare minute, he’s beside you with his hand trying to slip up your dress or trying to bury his face into your neck. when you’ve finally had enough, you send one of the player’s wives that you had been talking to an apologetic grin before excusing the both of you, wrapping your hand around his wrist and dragging him towards the bathroom.

he has an elated expression on his face as you push him up against the sink, undoing his belt and shoving your hand down the front of his pants to find him (unsurprisingly) hard, “you’re ridiculous. we’re surrounded by your coworkers, your coaches even and you can’t keep your hands to yourself for five minutes? so fucking embarrassing.”

“but you just look so- oh,” he whimpers as you sink to your knees, easily taking him down your throat. you know just how to get him close quick enough and right as he makes a noise signaling his release, you pull off and stand up straight. “no, baby, baby please. i didn’t mean to embarrass you. i’ll be so, so good, i’ll-”

“remember what i said in the car?” you put his dick back in his pants before zipping them up, nudging him to the side so that you could get in front of the mirror to straighten yourself out.

“baby-” his pleads are pathetic.

“don’t you dare finish,” you use your thumb to wipe the lipstick that had smudged before twisting the lock on the door, “i’ll know if you do.”

[prisonprocess]

The Adventure Begins

1.

Brendan M. says:

These days, everything happens online.  After I sold my company and took the profit, I lived at the lake house and basically didn’t need to go anyplace or see anybody.  After 12 years of corporate meetings, that was fine with me.  And there were plenty of online buddies to chat with.

My favorite was Blake.  He was into all the hot prison photos, sites, and stories.  We’d spend hours late at night, talking about how great it would be to “do prison,” as he put it, actually instead of virtually.  “No more role play.  Just real steel—the real deal.”  Nothing but uniforms, restraints, cellblocks, and being transported in big ugly buses (“diesel therapy”).  “Nothin but a number, Jack!  And you know what?  There’s an outfit that can put you there.  Just saw it online.”

That’s when he told me about Your Prison Profile.  A hot idea, of course—expensive, but they’d find a place for you in prison, and nobody would know how it happened.  When I contacted them, they put me through to Cody, a chill young guy who made everything easy.  I didn’t mind that he kept telling me to think about this or that, and we could talk about it tomorrow.  I really got off on thinking about my “requirements”: “which level of security is necessary for you,” “are you looking for hard labor,” “single cell, double cell, pod, or dorm,” and so on.  We did it all by online video, and I liked the look of Cody sitting at his desk and talking in a calm, level voice about what I wanted to “get out of” my “prison adventure.”  Blake and I spent every night imagining our way through the various options.  Next day I’d talk it over with Cody and click on the one I wanted.

Then in a couple of weeks Cody came online and told me, “Hey, based on the data you’re giving me, I found you a prison.  It’s the same security you wanted, same labor options, the whole nine yards.”  I was excited; I wanted to hit Blake up right away and tell him.  The problem was—this looked like my last visit with Cody.  He needed to know if I’d click on the box that said, yeah, I accept the offer.  Which I’d never intended to do.  I’d just wanted the fantasy.

I made up an excuse to go offline, and I got back to Blake.  “What do you mean?” he said.  “You don’t want to go through with it?”

I was ashamed to admit that I didn’t.  But I was so excited, I couldn’t let it go.  “Maybe for six months,” I said.

“Don’t be a wimp!” he replied.  “Besides, you can’t go to a real prison for six months.  They won’t let you in.  It has to be for at least a year.  You know that.  And what else are you doing that’s so important?”

“All right,” I said.  ���I’ll tell him a year.”  By that time, I barely knew what I was saying, I was so turned on.

But when I got back to Cody, he said, “I’m sorry.  This is a serious facility.  They don’t do one-year sentences.  Try three.”

“Three?” I answered, like a dumb ass.

“Three years.  Or you can sign up for five or ten or fifteen or twenty.  But listen, if you’re having trouble making up your mind, you can do two to life.  That’s for first offenders who, like, did something pretty bad, but they’re still first offenders.  So if you’ve got a good record in the facility, they’ll let you out in two.  Otherwise, they can keep you.  You understand how that goes?”

“Right.  I understand.  I’ll get back to you.”

“Thanks.  But I gotta tell you, this offer won’t last long.”

“What do you mean?” Blake said.  “You’re not gonna turn that down, are you?  Two years from now, you’ll still be sittin on your deck, growin your fat ass, wishin you’d had enough stones to click that box.”

I spent a worried, sleepless, and very excited night, and the next day I got with Cody online and clicked the box that said Two Years to Life. 

After that it was easy.  I sent a check for 50K, and 5K more as a tip for Cody.  I made arrangements with my lawyer.  I leased my house.  I put my stuff in storage.  I waited for my order to report to prison.  When I got it, there were two weeks to go.  I spent them chatting with Blake and alternating between excitement and fear.  But I couldn’t deny what he said: “In fourteen days you’ll be livin the dream.”  Then it was ten, then five, then one, and I went online to say so long for the next two years.  For some reason, Blake wasn’t on.

Next morning I left the hotel where I’d been staying and took a taxi the 50 miles to the Regional Headquarters of the Department of Corrections, where I was supposed to turn myself in.  I don’t know what I was expecting, but all I saw was a dumpy little building with a walk-up window and a sign saying REPORT FOR IMPRISONMENT.  OK, that was straightforward.  I wished I’d seen that sign years before.  A twenty-year-old with ear rings was sitting on the other side of the glass.  “Driver’s license-Order to Report-cellphone.”  I’d never thought about that, but yes, I’d lose my phone.  I slid everything through the little slot in the window.  The young man tossed my phone to one side of the counter, where I could see it land on a pile of other cell phones.  Then he compared my license with my Order, pushed the Order back through the slot, and said, “Give this to the officer at the gate.  Next!”  I turned and saw that I was part of a line of other men, there to REPORT FOR IMPRISONMENT.

The officer at the gate, a fifty-something with a big gut, took my Order and beckoned me through.  “Face to the wall,” he said.  There was a brick wall on the left, and I put my face to it.  “Hands on your head.”  I put my hands on my head.  Then I heard the double click of the shackles being attached to my legs.  This was the moment I’d been waiting for, and I almost lost it right there.  Even more when he turned me around and cuffed my hands together.

“Transport cage over there.  Get in and line up.”  A younger officer who might have been hot but wasn’t opened the second steel gate and let me in silently.  It was a cage, all right—concrete floor, and steel fencing all around.  It looked like they’d spent twenty bucks on it.  There were about 40 guys in the cage, lined up in their go-to-prison clothes, which must have cost then about ten bucks.  So these were my fellow convicts . . . .

Note: All stories by prisonprocess are purely fictional and have no relation to real persons or institutions.

[posttexasstressdisorder]

The simple yet powerful way Tim Walz just exposed Donald Trump

John Stoehr

September 20, 2024 6:51AM ET

US Democratic vice presidential candidate Minnesota Governor Tim Walz speaks at Temple University in Philadelphia on August 6, 2024. © Brendan Smialowski, AFP

This article was paid for by Raw Story subscribers. Not a subscriber? Try us and go ad-free for $1. Prefer to give a one-time tip? Click here.

Tim Walz was in Michigan recently. In a stump speech, he noted differing views on the meaning of homeownership. He said that for “the real estate mogul, the venture capitalist, whatever,” a house is “just an asset to be traded and sold.” To everyone else, however, it’s “a place to gather around the kitchen table to talk with our kids about what happened at school.”

The message was simple but powerful.

Donald Trump (“the real estate mogul”) and JD Vance (“the venture capitalist, whatever”) stand together as normal men who care about and understand the normal struggles of normal Americans, but they are not normal, nor do they care about or understand normal people’s struggles.

They don’t even know the meaning of owning a house and what it takes to achieve that dream. To them, it’s not real. It’s an abstraction. It has no value beyond its market value. But “to us,” Walz said, it’s so much more.

“That’s what Kamala Harris wants for you,” he said.

ALSO READ: Let's call Springfield what it is: Republican-made terrorism

Leigh McGowan, a social media influencer who goes by “Politics Girl,” watched the speech. She saw how Walz uses simple words to capture a common experience to rally normal Americans toward the common good and against “the real estate mogul, the venture capitalist, whatever.”

Then McGowan did something useful.

She named Walz’s rhetoric.

“It feels like he cannot possibly be real,” McGowan said. “Here’s this man who is masculine without being weirdly alpha, who hunts, who shoots, who was a teacher, who is a veteran. He’s just a good dad and a great husband, and he believes in the nation. He’s not trying to be president, he doesn’t have bigger ambitions, and he’s happy to be second banana to a woman. It’s like you made him in a lab as the perfect candidate.

“He talks to us in common sense,” she said.

Trump’s uncommon languageIf Tim Walz talks in common sense, what does Trump talk in?

Well, it’s common in that grievance and hate are ubiquitous. Beyond that, however, Trump does not communicate using words everyone can understand to relate the joys and sorrows they have experienced.

Virtually every word he chooses says more about him than it does anyone else. So while you don’t have to know anything about Tim Walz to understand his speeches, you have to know a lot about Donald Trump to understand his. Indeed, to talk about his speeches requires a kind of specialized language. And if you don’t know the lingo, you’re lost.

After nearly a decade in the public eye, Trump’s presence has become commonplace. It took someone like Walz speaking in the language of common sense to jolt us out of the normalcy that is Trump. Walz helped us realize we don’t really understand what the man is talking about.

I would even say the impact of that jolt is why McGowan said Walz “feels like he cannot possibly be real.” But it’s not Walz who doesn’t feel real.

It’s Trump.

Thanks in part to Walz, it’s clearer now than ever that Trump’s speeches have gotten longer, windier and more rambling. They start out grounded in discernable reality but eventually, they become so abstract as to be meaningless. Here he is, explaining, well, I don’t really know.

I don't think I've ever said this before. So we do these rallies. They're massive rallies. Everybody loves, everybody stays till the end. By the way, you know, when she said that, well, your rallies people leave. Honestly, nobody does. And if I saw them leaving, I'd say, and ladies and gentlemen make America great again and I'd get the hell out, ok? Because I don't want people leaving. But I do have to say so I give these long sometimes very complex sentences and paragraphs but they all come together. I do it a lot. I do it with Raising Cain. That story. I do it with the story on the catapults on the aircraft carriers. I do it with a lot of different stories. When I mentioned Doctor Hannibal Lecter, I'm using that as an example of people that are coming in from Silence of the Lambs. I use it. They say it's terrible. So they say so I'll give this long complex area for instance that I talked about a lot of different territory. The bottomline I said the most important thing. We’re going to bring more plants to your state and this country to make automobiles. We’re going to be bigger than before. The fake news and there’s a lot of them back there. You know, for a town hall, there's a lot of people but the fake news likes to say, the fake news likes to say, oh, he was rambling. No, no, that's not rambling. That's genius. When you can connect the dots. Now, now, Sarah, if you couldn't connect the dots, you got a problem. But every dot was connected and many stories were told in that little paragraph.

A normal person’s common language

Trump may not sound like a rich man, but he’s still a rich man.

When he talks about normal things, it sounds weird.

He has never gone back-to-school shopping. He has never pumped his own gas. He’s never written a check for the electric bill. He does not know what it’s like to be sticker-shocked at the supermarket. He has no idea what it feels like to go from renting to owning. He sure-as-hell doesn’t know how it feels to be forced to choose between food and medical bills.

He does not even know the meaning of a $10 bill. He does not know what it can buy, because $10 to “the real estate mogul” isn’t money. It’s power.

Indeed, $10 means nothing, just as tariffs mean nothing. Tariffs aren’t real economic tools presidents use to address real economic problems. They are abstractions. As such, whether they work makes no difference to him. Whether they cause suffering doesn’t matter. Suffering is abstract, too.

To a normal person, the price of things is about as real as it gets.

To Trump, the price of things is as real as fairy dust.

So he can say, as he did this week, that he will lower “energy bills” by 50 percent. He can say, as he did in January, that the cost of gasoline has gone from under $2 a gallon to “5, 6, 7, 8 dollars.” He can say, as he did this week, that he will decrease the price of food by decreasing the food supply (via tariffs on imports). To a normal person, that makes no sense. To a rich man, sense is beside the point. Money isn’t money. It’s power.

In the end, you don’t have to know much about Tim Walz to understand his speeches, because Tim Walz is himself a normal person. He knows the meaning of a $10 bill. He knows the meaning of owning a home. He speaks in common sense, because his own experience is so common. When he says, “that’s what Kamala Harris wants for you,” it makes sense.

It feels real.

[ventingfanfics]

Make a Move (Scotty x Reader)

Fluff.

After a month and a half of yearning yet shying away from her feelings, Scotty was going to make her move on you. 

She was grateful that her Black Women from the Caribbean class ended a few minutes earlier. Not wanting to waste any time, she packed her things and filed out of the classroom. 

You were on the floor above her and your class finished at the same time hers usually did: 3:50. 

After easing up the staircase, Scotty settled by the window that was positioned at the far left of the hallway. In two minutes, you would walk out room 307. 

Scotty used the time (and fresh cool air) to relax and remind herself of why she was doing this in the first place. However, none of that stopped her heart from racing. A glance at her phone revealed that it was 3:50. 

Here I go, Scotty thought. Upon looking up, she noticed exchange student Shuri Udaku waiting by the door to 307. She shrugged it off until she noticed you go to Shuri. Big smiles were on your faces. Shuri even took your bag from you so she could hold it instead. 

Scotty felt her heart breaking as you and the princess walked down the hall together. Since you were coming towards Scotty’s direction, the two of you locked eyes. 

She quickly broke eye contact and reversed, hurrying down that same staircase. She didn’t stop walking until she reached her co-ed room that was in the other building. 

“Did you run here?” Her roommate and friend Brendan asked, noting her shallow breaths upon her arrival.

Scotty shook her head and hung up her denim jacket. 

“Okay…did you do it?” 

Again, Scotty was silent. She tossed her book bag onto the small couch before sitting down and turning on the TV. The scowl on her features was a front for the sadness. 

“I take it you did and it didn’t go well,” Brendan said.

“It didn’t.”

“She said no?” Brendan sat down beside her, visibly surprised. 

Keeping her eyes on the TV she answered, “No. Some girl was already waiting for her.”

“Who was it?”

“Shuri.”

“The Wakandan?”

Scotty curtly nodded.

“Yikes,” he muttered, causing Scotty to look at him. He rubbed his jaw with his thumb. “It’s just, a lot of girls on campus have it bad for her.”

Scotty continued to sulk ahead. Were you one of those girls? 

“Is she a player?” Brendan asked earning a careless shrug. 

“I would’t know.”

“I can find out.” He smiled and opened his laptop on the coffee table and took out his phone. While he prepped to do some internet stalking, Scotty ordered food for them. 

“Damn, her shit is carefully curated,” Brendan said earning a snort from his roommate. “I mean she is a princess, so I guess it makes sense.” 

Scotty looked at her friend again. “I really don’t care to talk about her.”

He nodded in understanding. “All good, don’t worry about it. Wanna help me study until the food gets here?”

“Sure.”

She held up flash cards for him until there was a knock. Scotty checked her phone. “It doesn’t say the food is ready…”

Brendan glanced at her thoughtfully and went to answer the door. His eyebrows lifted at the sight of you. “Hello.”

“Hey,” You greeted with a friendly smile. “Is Scotty here?”

He gave a closed-mouth smile and stepped aside. “Come in.”

Scotty, who had overheard the exchange, was on her feet, as if she’d planned to leave the room. 

“Hey Scotty, can we talk?” You breathed out optimistically. 

“I’ll be in my room,” Brendan spoke, taking his leave. 

You watched as Scotty glared after him. She sat back down. Catching the view of one of Shuri’s social media profiles on Brendan’s laptop, she quickly closed it. 

You carefully approached and sat adjacent to her. “So how are you?”

She glanced at you, but mainly peered at the TV. “Okay.”

“I saw you earlier in the hall, but I don’t think you heard me.”

“Oh, probably not.”

“Scotty, are you mad at me?”

“No, why would you think that?” She furled an eyebrow at you. 

“I don’t know, you’re just acting weird, not like my usual Scotty…” 

“Like how?”

“You seem like you don’t want me here. I mean, I can go…but I’d rather know what I did and how to fix it.”

Scotty gazed at you in contemplation. 

“Please tell me?” 

There was something about you begging that encouraged Scotty. “I, um, wanted to ask you something today, but I saw you with another girl.” She played with her fingers. 

“Who, Shuri?” She nodded slowly in the affirmative. “Aw, Scotty, that didn’t mean you couldn’t talk to me.”

“You looked busy.”

“I’m never too busy for you.”

Scotty blushed. This wasn’t the first time you had told her that and it never ceased to fill her with butterflies. 

“What were you gonna ask me?” You asked with soft eyes. You watched as she looked at her lap. 

“Um…it’s…well…” 

She sighed in relief when there was a knock and “Uber eats” announcement at the door. “Sorry, that’s my food.” She stood a bit too eagerly. 

You patiently waited. Scotty called out Brendan’s name to let him know the food was there. Once he grabbed his order and a can of grape soda, he was again out of sight.

“Would you like me to get you something?” Scotty offered you, making you inwardly swoon. 

“No, it’s okay. I ate before I came.”

“Well, if you change your mind…”

You smiled. “Thank you, baby.” You delighted in Scotty blushing again and the small grin playing on her lips. “Yeah, so, I hope you know I’m not letting you off the hook…”

Scotty chuckled and it was nice to see and hear. She returned to her seat, placing her food on the coffee table. She toyed with the hem of her flannel shirt.  “I was going to ask you out.” 

She closed her eyes, wishing to disappear because of the silence. 

“Like on a date? Or…to be your girlfriend?”

“Both.” Scotty spared a look at you for your reaction. She found you staring at her deeply. Was that a good sign?

You touched her thigh and felt her tense. “Do you still want to ask me?” 

There was a hint of a smile as she looked away. “It depends…are you seeing anyone?” She now looked stressed. 

“No. Shuri is just a friend.”

Her eyes were on you again, unconvinced.

You shook your head and reached for her hand this time. “I promise we’re just friends, Scotty. She knows I’m already interested in someone.” 

“W-Who are you interested in?”

“Take a wild guess.” 

Scotty’s quizzical smile was adorable. Before she could speak, you pulled her into a soft kiss. You let your lips linger for a few more seconds before pulling away. “Enough said,” You whispered. 

Am I dreaming? Scotty wondered. She grinned and so did you. 

“Wow,” she said. It was so genuine you couldn’t help but laugh.

“So, now I’ll ask you. Do you want to go on a date with me?”

“Yes, a million times yes.”

You cheered. “Woot!”

“And then you’ll see if you wanna be my girlfriend?” Scotty asked hopefully. 

You slung an arm around her, speaking lowly into her ear. “To be honest, I already like the sound of that, but let’s see how things go. I’m excited as hell to go on a date with you.”

Scotty beamed. “Me too.” She hesitantly put her hands towards your hips.

“It’s fine to do that.” You held her hands there. 

“Aww, how cute,” Brendan said, startling the pair of you. 

[revalentine2]

Roseanne Sets Out! - Team Objective plays Pokemon Emerald

Hey, is-is this piece of junk on?

Ah, there we go...

GREETINGS, POKEMON WORLD!

I am ROSEANNE, Leader of TEAM OBJECTIVE, the EVIL-actual moral alignment pending-team dedicated to showing the world that OBJECT POKEMON are OBJECTIVELY the GREATEST!  In my latest mission, I am...

...sitting in the back of a moving truck.  With grimy camera footage.

we don't have the greatest budget right now, ok?  I've had to hole back up with mom, and these...dirty, hairy beasts!  Horrible.

I wish there were clock and gamecube pokemon.  They'd look so lovely.

Oh thank Regigigas they're gone.  What kind of sick person would let something like that into their-

-oh.  right.  dad.

oops.

I was investigating this other house and thought I spotted a voltorb on the floor-it was, unfortunately, a regular pokeball-when this squirt came over and starting being sexist to my face?  What kind of backwards town IS this???

I walk just outside, and see what I mean???  Mangy beasts.  …I don’t suppose any of the pokemon this man is offering are OBJECT pokemon, are they…?

No, they are not.

Well, until we have another option, I will take the lizard I guess.  Understand that he is being relegated to HM duty as SOON as I have my hands on an object pokemon.

That professor guy said to go look for his son, but I don’t think I’ll waste my time.  I’ll just head out of town and-

-Oooooof course.

Animals.

I’ve looked around, and all I’ve found is a bird I’ve heard some claim turns into a toilet.  Guys, I know that’s just a weird looking bird.  Some people can be so immature.

Hey Brendan, you’re a poopyhead!

I’ve decided to venture out to the next town.  No luck on finding any object pokemon on the route between, either.  I’m beginning to think there aren’t any…maybe that’s why dad moved out here.

Well, let’s get this over with.

Dad I love you but WHY do you surround yourself with the objectively WORST pokemon-

Huh?  Who’s this kid?

…YES!  Child, I will get you an object pokemon, and you can become the next-and first but that’s not important-recruit of TEAM OBJECTIVE!

Huh-WHAT-

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I suppose I should not be upset that the sickly child is happier now.

(but I am, kinda.)

…What?  The gym leader in Rustboro is a ROCK TYPE leader?  Someone who would know where and how to find rock pokemon??  Oh, dad, you’re showing support for my interests after all!  I will be off at once!

Hmm…tell me if you’ve seen any object pokemon first, and then we’ll talk.

Aw, what?  I’m an evil team LEADER, not some hero!  …But fiiiiiiiiiine, I guess.

Team Aqua?  Sir, do you know any object pokemon that reside in the sea, because I’ve done my research and have found frighteningly little.   …Knowing this region’s reputation, maybe I picked a bad spot for my first outing.

Nothing to tell me?  Then, off with you!  Team Objective has no time to waste on petty thievery.

The Rustboro gym, home of Roxanne…her name and mine are quite close, actually.  And she’s an honors student?  Surely she must know much about the rocky objects of this region!

…Unfortunately, I'm going to have to take my leave for now.  It’s…disappointing, ending my first day battling in support of Object Pokemon without a one to my name, and just in sight of actually SEEING one…but, next time…next time, we shall not only head inside, but, find our first TRUE team members.  For the Object Pokemon-TEAM OBJECTIVE!

[a-man-for-hire-and-his-archives]

‘Black Sails’ Star Luke Arnold Is Creating A Graphic Novel With A Strong Creative Compass

Though he’s had a long run as a working actor, Australian born Black Sails and INXS: Never Tear Us Apart star Luke Arnold says he’s always been a writer. He says that’s related to his favorite part of acting – figuring out the strategy for the performance more than the performance itself.

For Arnold, getting into the space to create is vital. Drama school was followed by the start of his on-screen career, but while he was still writing, he felt a truth that will resonate with many aspiring creators: “For so long you’re so desperate for a paycheck and for something to happen in your career that for so long as a young actor, it’s hard to really focus on something [else],” he says while recounting the process of trying to find time to write in between auditions and jobs.

Arnold is talking with us as he readies the launch of a Kickstarter campaign around a new, high concept graphic novel that he-co-wrote with Chris “Doc” Wyatt. The story plays with shifting realities, twisting truths, and anti-science ideas. It sound expansive and timely, deploying multiple heavy-hitter artists (including Bill Sienkiewicz, Glenn Fabry, Jason Howard, Vince Locke, Brendan McCarthy, Andrea Mutti, and M.K. Perker) in collaboration with The Lab Press. This follows his three novels with a fourth on the way.

Arnold’s writing work is the result of a careful balance that grants him the time to carve out dedicated space to write, doing it in a way that seems to not just impact the work but also reinvigorate him when a new acting role comes along. That balance has come from having worked steadily and from legit financial planning.

“I do put time aside and I know I’ve got to make the acting money last through that time. And make sure there’s enough, all the rent and bills and everything are covered while the money isn’t pouring in the same way it does when you’re on an acting job that gives you a check every week,” says Arnold.

Working in this fashion gives Arnold the ability to not be pushed into bad creative decisions by necessity, accountable to his audience more than to the business side of things. It’s a luxury, to be sure, but one that he is happy to lean into with focus and humbleness (believe me, Arnold gets how lucky he is to be able to put one career down for a moment to pick up another, mentioning it more than once).

“If you start spending so much that now you have to make all your decisions based on finances, you start making the wrong decisions, you start taking jobs you don’t want to take.” says Arnold.

The desire to chase a kind of purity with the creative process extends beyond planning and striving for dedicated time. It also factors into how he chose to pursue this specific process, turning to Kickstarter.

“It takes so many barriers away, because so much in publishing and getting books out can be about this whole network of agents and publishers to the booksellers, to the bookstores, to the people in the bookstores recommending it to readers. And that can be such a great pipeline of people, but it can also limit what people have access to,” Arnold says. “Kickstarter is a very level playing field and very creator driven. So it’s a perfect place for this whole journey to start.”

While Arnold also lauds Kickstarter’s creative community and other benefits, he acknowledges the advantage his name recognition brings, though we both agree that it may, at times, be overstated.

“I think that the’ve got to be careful how I say this. I’m sure when I get opportunities like this, some part of it is that I have have a profile from a TV show. But I think it often gets overestimated, this idea of how much of an audience will follow you between different fields and different mediums,” he says, before I co-sign the thought by reminding that there is a big difference between following someone and giving them a credit card number.

At the end of the day, while some may click because of Arnold’s run on Black Sails (the pirate epic is about to hit Netflix in full), the idea for Essentials has to win them over. It’s why we’re talking with him, to be honest. And so, to end off and share info on the Kickstarter, let’s have him make that sales pitch in his own words.

“Essentials follows Harris Pax, who was the one scientist who foresaw this inter-dimensional collision happening where our dimension collided with another. Now objective reality has become untethered. And people’s subjective realities are becoming real, the way they see the world, their fears, beliefs, ideas are manifesting around them. This was a kind-of COVID baby. This was an idea that we were forming in 2020. A lot of it is dealing with that idea of what the hell do you do when everyone is in their own little world. And we can no longer agree on some basic facts, science, the world we’re in, and how hard is it to do what Harris tries to do, which is to go into these subjective realities and try and convince the person inside that they need to come back to the real world.”

You can check out the Kickstarter for Essentials on April 17.

Source: Uproxx

[barkovsasha]

*oliver twist vc* pls ma’am, may I have some more snippets of take it like a man and like I loved you? spare some snippets or talk about them pls?

you are so cute 😭 anything for you <3

take it like a man - alec burleson x brendan donovan

“God, you’re such a little freak. You love this so much.”

He does it without thinking. His hand leaves Brendan’s arm to clamp down over his mouth, Alec’s own lips parting as he stares at him. There’s not much he can say right now, the lack of air in the car making his throat dry but his eyes say enough. Brendan’s eyes say enough, too. They show all of his annoyance from Alec making that one move and Alec knows he’s fucked.

Brendan brings a hand up to wrap his fingers around Alec’s wrist and it feels like it happens in slow motion, as though their limbs are wrapped up in honey. He pulls Alec’s hand away from his mouth, still staring up at him. It’s like their eyes are locked on one another, unable to look away. Alec knows he can’t be the one to look away first. Brendan is in charge and he’s made that real fucking clear.

His hand is pinned against his side, arm stiff as he settles into the position Brendan is putting him in. Wordlessly, Brendan reaches for his other arm and pins it to his side, hands pressing bruises into his skin as he holds them there.

“I’m—”

“Don’t.”

like i loved you - joe pavelski x mason marchment

“Come on, Pavs,” Mason whines, tugging at Joe’s sleeve like a kid.

Joe rolls his eyes and bats Mason’s hand off of him, amused smile taking over his features.

“You can’t really be asking me, an old man, to go out with you tonight.”

Mason huffs, jabbing his finger into Joe’s side until he lets out an undignified noise, batting at his hand again.

“You’re not an old man, so shut up. And yes, I am. What’s the problem with that?”

“You’re young, you don’t need me with you. One of the others will go with you.”

“Oh my God, have you ever considered I want you there with me?”

Joe pauses, looking at Mason like he’s grown a second head.

“Why would you want me there over the others?” Joe asks slow and careful.

Mason shrugs, no longer looking Joe in the eye. He busies himself with fiddling with the buttons on Joe’s shirt.

“I don’t know,” he mutters, pressing closer to Joe until his hand is trapped between their bodies.

“Liar,” Joe says quietly.

“Yeah.”

Joe reaches between them to slip his hand into Mason’s, tangling their fingers together until he looks at him again, eyes bright and wide as they watch one another.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Two (Part 2)

I end up getting dragged to the dinner party. I don’t know why I doubted Kelly’s choice for a moment, I suppose I thought that she’d listen to reason but when Claire found Flavio’s Facebook page on her laptop and showed her a photo she was sold. When we’re  getting ready together later I privately search his name again and find his birth date on his profile. He was born in May 1988. Twenty two years old and a Gemini. I snap the laptop closed in disgust. 

“Don’t look so sour, petal.” Claire says to me affectionately. She lifts a soft fat brush loaded with rosy blush and sweeps it across my cheeks. “I promise promise promise that you’ll have a nice time tonight.” I sigh. “I suppose, I’m just… anxious. Or something. I don’t know.”

“What has you anxious?” Kelly wants to know. She is spraying a sugary smelling body mist all over herself, and now the air in the room feels constricted. 

“I don’t know.” I say. “Nothing. I can’t explain it well.”

“Is it about the Italian fellas?”

“Kind of. Not really.”

Claire smooths down my hair and tucks a strand behind my ear. “You can tell us anything Evie. We’d never judge you for it.”

“It…” I begin hesitantly. “It’s stupid but like, I’m worried that we’ll go to the party and eventually I’ll have to be on my own after the two of you end up talking to the boys.”

Kelly pauses. “And you don’t think they’d be talking to you, no?”

I laugh humorlessly. “No, like sorry I don’t mean to be negative but boys don’t fancy me.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Claire tells me. “Loads and loads of boys fancy you, that’s a fact. You’re drop dead gorgeous looking.” I know she’s just being nice. 

“The boys that like Evie aren’t the boys that Evie likes.” Kelly says. I detect bitterness in her voice. “She acts like she never gets asked out when in fact she just never says yes.”

“Yeah like sometimes.” I defend myself. “But even at that it’s hardly ever.”

“Again, not true. That lad Brendan from your tennis club asked you to go to the cinema with him about two weeks ago. And then there was Oisin from our study group and those two, no, three fellas that came up to you at that charity gig. You said no to them all, and that’s just in the last few months.”

I’m taken aback. When she puts it like that it sounds more serious than it really is. I begin to protest but she interrupts me. “My wish for you is that you’ll stop waiting around for some perfect man who doesn’t exist. Go out and live your life, you can’t be expecting some kind of lovey-dovey romance movie. That doesn’t happen in the real world.”

“Also Irish boys aren’t like that.” Claire adds, and I’m offended that she’s agreeing with her. She pauses to glue down her false eyelash and I wait for her to say it. Kelly swivels around in her chair and looks at her too. I know she’s thinking the same thing. Claire slowly blinks at herself in the mirror and then her reflection smiles impishly at me. “But, you never know, Italian boys might be.”

Prev // Next