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cobblestone-butch · 12 days

Note

jus saw ur post ab sculptor etho muse joel, ik u got forcibly ejected from the writers room but if i make another writers room will u write it /hj

hey tysm! I ended up writing a little something so it will be below <3 this is mostly just Cleo helping Etho realise what might be going on with his struggles to sculpt. I hope people like and mostly that anyone who knows anything about art would write for it too (I know nothing!)

"So, first things first! Why do you want to learn to pose armour stands, Etho? Have you got a specific project in mind?"

There's an awkward pause.

"I only ask so I can get a good idea of what to focus on. It's just good if we start our work with something you're already interested in, right?"

She's never seen Etho look so... Nervous. Learning can be a vulnerable thing, sure, but Etho has never been shy with questions and comments and the unknown the way some people are. It feels wrong to turn to insults, light as they may be, to ease the attention - they're at a complete loss on what to do other than let him work through whatever he's feeling.

"Nothing, there's nothing... Specific I had in mind. It's... I tried sculpting."

"Okay that's good. That's great! What did you like about sculpting?"

"I didn't like sculpting."

Cleo laughs, a mix of confusion and genuine amusement, "Alright! So why do you want to learn 'armorstandography' then?"

Etho is still looking down, picking what she now suspects to be dried clay or quartz from his clothes. His shoulders drop a little from their previously hunched state though, which is a good sign.

"I just figured that maybe it would be easier. N-not that what you do is easy, I mean, you're clearly very skilled, and that's why I've asked you-"

"Etho, slow down, it's okay. I am perfectly assured in what I do and how much effort it takes. But still, I appreciate it."

"I thought maybe something with color would be more, familiar? I like vibrant colors and how they go together, and sculpting out of quartz is so... Lifeless."

Cleo shakes her head, "I won't teach you, Etho."

Etho snaps his head upwards, looking for some sign that it's some dry British humor he's missed. Cleo's face is even more stony than his recent attempts at sculpting.

"I won't teach you", they repeat, "Not for that reason. Color won't inject life into what you make, Etho. I won't teach you something that isn't true."

"Uh huh..."

"And besides, I don't think I believe you. I bet your sculptures have plenty of life in them." Cleo sees a frown pull on Etho's features, "Go on, prove me wrong."

---

Etho puts his hand on the door leading to his storage area. It's a big enough space for art projects, and it's nice to hear items sort themselves as he works, frustrated as he's been with the outcome of his endeavours recently. Cleo reads his hesitance immediately, and knows that Etho won't find comfort in their reassuring words. Here, at the doorway, she pushes past him.

She's drawn to her own face first. Sat on a block is her own head, looking back at her. She sees her own soft features, big eyes and strong nose. A dozen other faces around the room, and she can just about identify them as their friends. There's one off to the side, hidden enough to not drawn attention but not hidden too much, as if he's given himself plausible deniability for doing it. Etho's problem is not that his sculptures look lifeless. Etho's problem is denial.

It takes Cleo seconds to spot and minutes to confirm - there's only one sculpture amongst the collection that properly resembles the person it's modelled after. Every other head or bust has been affected by it, flawed in different ways but for the exact same reason. They all look a bit too much like Joel. It's in the furrow of her brow, the fierceness of Scar's smile, the curl of Doc's hair. Their eyes are all bright, smiles meeting them in genuine warmth, and Cleo can see even with just quartz how skilled Etho is at what he does.

Cleo isn't sure how aware Etho is that he's making them all in Joel's image, so they opt for asking something less direct, "What do you think the problem is? With these sculptures?"

"They're all... Wrong. I just can't get anyone right, and I'm not exactly going for artistic liberty."

Cleo laughs kindly, "That's not exactly true, is it? I can see one that's particularly uncanny."

"Uncanny valley?" Etho makes the joke before she can, but it's not what she was pitching for.

She walks over to and stands behind the sculpture of Joel. "I like this one. I've definitely seen this face before I've died a few times."

Etho laughs, and it stops the ever-shifting of his feet and the picking at his hands. He runs a hand through his hair, letting it rest at his neck as he rubs at it in slight shame. "He's, ah, a vicious one, Joel. He does this little huff thing, and it sounds like a tiger- he's always in some kind of mood and it's always so big, he can't do anything calmly or slowly, you've seen how quickly he builds, and, I just thought what's the most 'Joel' face I can think of? I remembered how he looked building that TNT cannon..."

Cleo lets him talk. It's nice, after all the awkward, to see him talk to openly about all the thoughts that went into the Joel sculpture. She can almost see what he means when he says the other attempts are lifeless; the animation in his voice when he talks about Joel makes everything else pale in comparison. She doesn't think he realises.

"Do you know what a muse is?" They ask after Etho has run himself out of steam, or perhaps noticed a conspicuous lack of interjection from Cleo, a usually very active listener.

"You mean like an inspiration?"

"Yeah! Well, sort of. In Greek mythology, the Muses were goddesses, and their domains included art of all kinds. And we've sort of derived meaning from that, so plenty of artists say they have muses that inspire them. And it helps them make art even if it's not always about them."

"Uh huh. So you think that I need to find my muse?"

"I think you already have, Etho." She looks down at the head between them, and Etho follows her gaze. Joel's eyes look back at him, intense and alive and challenging. He averts his gaze, something complicated settling over him - what they shared was so long ago, in a time and place so far from here. To feel the pull of that, it feels cosmic and mythical in a way Etho naturally rejects.

It's like Cleo can see through him, always. "It doesn't have to be complicated. It can be as simple as knowing someone well enough to capture a second of their likeness. That's what a lot of my armour stands do, they're just snapshots in time. Maybe you should just talk to Joel."

"Oh, I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"He'll be insufferable about it."

Cleo actually snorts at that. "Fine then, don't talk to him. Just make more excuses to send him mail and wait for an extrovert to bring you to his base to talk, or whatever it is that you guys do."

"You're not far off, Cleo."

"Oh, I know. I have to hear all about it."

"What?! The next time I see Scar..."

---

Joel stares back into his own eyes. The head was left at the gate to his base, like something the mafia might do as a threat. There was a single sign next to it: Feel free to alter or remove - Etho. It's incredible, seeing his likeness through someone else's eyes. He didn't know his hair was so fluffy, his smile so sharp. He picks up the head with a grunt (Bloomin' heck, is this thing solid quartz?!) and moves it somewhere it can be seen, before pulling a book from the chest under his mailbox and penning his sculptor a message.

#hermitfic #ethoslab #etho #smallishbeans #hermitshipping #could be read as platonic but i want to be safe :)#smalletho #boat boys #i miss cl.etho so much im gonna go rewatch sl #ty to the people who wanted this to exist it inspired me #i wrote it in one go in a hyperfocus state and then didnt read it over. sorry for any issues

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mire1li · 3 months

Text

Kafka and Blade got too silly!

Kidnappers shouldn't be... hot... right?... right? - Kafka

Alternatively - Blade's version!

You looked at the two people standing in front of you. Though they weren’t exactly paying attention, they were still there and whispering stuff amongst themselves.

You recognised both to be Kafka and Blade from the Xianzhou wanted posters. Jing Yuan had warned you of possible dangers of the job he offered you. Being his secretary certainly wasn’t easy, and the situation you’d gotten yourself into wasn’t helping.

Nevertheless, you never expected to actually get kidnapped. Especially by those two.

“They’re awake.” Blade sighed, making it clear he was irritated and would rather be doing something else.

Both he and Kafka looked at you, she crossing her arms and lightly smiling.

Certainly, Blade wasn’t too happy with you after you struggled so much when they came to get you.

You ended up kicking him in a few places since Kafka refused to use her ‘spirit whisper’ on you as it would be ‘inhumane’ as she claimed. “Since when do you care about that?” He asked her, avoiding one of your kicks.

Kafka chuckled “Since now.”

“You’re terrible.”

“Oh, I know~ now come on, we need to go before the General returns.”

“Tell us what you know.” Blade walked up to you, looking down at you.

“I refuse.”

Kafka stood in the back, watching the situation unfold before her eyes. It was no surprise she found this entertaining.

“Tell us what you know.” He repeated, narrowing his eyes as he clenched his fists.

You sighed, shaking your head.

“No can do.” You leaned on the wall, sighing over-dramatically. Honestly, if they hadn’t kidnapped you, mayhaps you would’ve given them some information, though useless, however, this certainly was quite entertaining so you didn’t mind much. “Tell me what you know or else.” He replied, scowling at you as he grit his teeth.

“So mean! However… I’m not going to be providing you with any information. I don’t feel like betraying the Luofu.”

He unsheathed his sword, pointing it at you. You slightly jumped, having not expected that, however, before he could actually do anything more, Kafka stepped in.

“Alright, that’s enough of that.” She walked in between the two of you, moving his sword aside gently.

“I’ll take it from here, Bladie. Why don’t you go… somewhere over there.” She waved her hand, motioning to the back of the room.

Blade grumbled something under his breath and begrudgingly sheathed his sword. He walked to the back of the room, standing in the corner.

“Now then,” Kafka glanced back at you.

“What’s stopping you from telling us what we want to know? Your loyalty?” She asked, shifting to stand in a thinking pose.

“Actually… don’t answer that, I don’t really care.” She lightly narrowed her eyes at you, humming in thought. She looked like she was contemplating something. “I gotta tell you… you look really hot right now.” You chuckled, looking at her in awe.

“Hm? Well, thank you~” Kafka snickered.

“Say… can I get your number? Maybe we can go out sometime!” You exclaimed, now standing up properly. The woman in front of you wasn’t much taller, if at all. Seemingly, you were the same height as her.

“My number?” She asked, as her eyes widened a slight amount, her grin adorning her face.

“Hm… we can figure something out~”

“Really?” You looked at her dumbstruck, expecting her to have declined. You glanced at Blade, who was staring intently at the two of you with a hint of confusion on his face.

It was quite amusing to see him look so confused. He made it quite obvious he wasn’t one to show his emotions.

“Well, yes! I suppose there’s no reason not to~”

Kafka took out her phone and gave you her number, she found it very entertaining how you’d asked her out. Though, she didn’t quite believe you were serious, she still accepted, believing it could be fun.

You sent her a quick message, double-checking you typed her number in right, to which she sent back a sticker. “Now then~ back to the topic at hand…” Kafka spoke up, bringing back her original goal.

“Will you willingly give up the information or will I have to use… more drastic measures?” She laughed, speaking in a joking tone, however, you could tell that she wasn’t exactly joking…

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #gn reader #reader insert #hsr kafka #hsr blade #x reader #gender neutral reader #kafka x reader #kafka x you #jing yuan

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rafferty3207 · 10 months

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omg I'm the anon who requested the jamie x reader neighbours fic and boy you delivered! fucking love it! can't wait for part 2

This is so lovely anon, I'm so glad you liked it!!! For you, I will deliver a part two with the caveat that I'm so sorry I got carried away and now it will be in three parts (sorry again), but the last part will be the finale!!! Anyway I present to you:

Too Good to Be True (part two)

read part one here

warnings: allusions to abuse, mention of anxiety/panic attack, daddy issues, two hopeless idiots flirting, a bit of angst at the end but worth it (sorry again)

A/N: I have nothing to add except this gif is not mine and has turned me feral

It’s been several days since you left your phone number and you are nervous.

You don’t get why you care so much.

It’s just Jamie, your annoying neighbour. Your annoying, but also extremely handsome neighbour. Your annoying, handsome neighbour who massaged your feet, and your legs, and almost your thighs and god you couldn’t think straight. You’d been able to get nothing done as you had spent the last few days just constantly replaying that evening in your head. And to make things worse, it turns out Annoying Handsome Jamie was in fact a very famous Premier League footballer. Who has also been caught having sex on TV. (Yes, you had binged the entirety of his Lust Conquers All series since that night, but that was neither her nor there.)

After almost a week you had given up. The exhibition was just under two weeks away and you hadn’t seen him in the garden or outside the house at all. He had probably come to the conclusion that you were both too weird and too normal for him and the only conclusion was move on with your life and forget his stupid sexy face ever existed, when you got a text.

u free tonight

Jxoxo

Of course, you wanted to play it cool. After all, you had spent the entirety of the week waiting for this message.

29 minutes and 59 seconds later.

I might be.

The phone immediately pings.

do u not know??

xoxo

Depends, what are you thinking?

thought u wanted a model

Xoxo

Of course, he was thinking about the painting. As you also definitely were. You were a professional artist. Almost.

What time?

ill come after the match

You spend your evening preparing and also perhaps figuring out an outfit that says 'casual bohemian artist that definitely doesn't care' while redoing your makeup twice. However, as the hours stretch on and on and on you are at the point of giving up and going to bed, when the doorbell finally rings.

You race down, before waiting a minute, quickly checking yourself in the mirror and pulling out your phone to pretend you had already been looking at something when you open the door.

But before you can pull the casual act, he walks right past you.

“Hello to you too, Jamie.”

He strides into your living room where the canvas is set up and immediately starts taking his clothes off.

“Woah, what do you think you’re doing there?”

“Er, I thought you were painting nudes?”

“Er no-” At this point his shirt has already come off and he’s starting to unbutton his trousers. Of course he is very toned, with tanned arms and neck where his football shirt has been. You feel the breath knocked out of your body, glimpsing the very top of his boxers as you struggle for words.. He looks at you confused. Eventually you stutter an answer. "K-Keep the trousers on, okay?”

“What should I do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do I pose, like?” You shrug.

“However you want to, Jamie.”

“I dunno what I want.” You sigh.

“You just need to stand there and look pretty.”

“Well I do that all the time, so.”

“Great. So just…keep doing that.”

Jamie smiles to himself.

“What is it?”

“So you do think I’m pretty?” He smirks at you. You fold your arms.

“What are you, a sixteen year old girl Jamie?” You start sketching. “Besides, you know what you look like.” You go back to drawing in silence. You swear you see his cheeks dust pink for a second before he ouffs his chest back out and smiles.

“Aren’t you going to ask if I think you’re pretty?”

You freeze.

“No, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m not sixteen. I am an adult woman and I don’t need random men for unsolicited affirmation, no matter how pretty they are.”

Jamie opens his mouth, before closing it again. Maybe that was a bit harsh, but what else could you say? Tell me how pretty you think I am Jamie. Or better yet, show me. I’m dying to know. You could practically feel the feminism leaving your body.

You dismiss these thoughts and get back to sketching. You can see Jamie is looking down and acting fidgety, swinging his arms.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” You walk over and plant your arms on his shoulders. He is surprisingly warm and firm to the touch, and you try not to blush. “Is it okay if I move you?”

He nods, surprisingly quiet. You turn him ever so slightly, before gently pushing him down onto your stool. As you move one of his (very muscly) arms, you swear you feel a slight tremor. Was he shaking? You step a little closer, a hand on his back.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Jamie.”

His face hardens.

“But I said I will, so I will.”

“But you don’t have to. Only do this if you want to.” You smile at him, and his face softens again.

“I do want to, trust me. It’s just been a long day.”

“Okay, but if you need to stop or take a break, just say the word.”

You step back to your canvas. You try to focus solely on the drawing, but every time he looks at you, you find your whole body heating up. Despite this, you steal glances anyway. He stares at you constantly, in a way that makes you feel stupid and giggly. Observing all the soft and hard lines of his body, you eventually start to notice small scars all over his body until you reach his hands. You don’t know why it took you so long to notice, but his knuckles are slightly bruised.

“Jamie?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me about your day.”

“Why? It was dead boring.”

“I don’t know. I find it helps me find the right mood.” You prepare your brushes. “You know, it tells me what colours to use.”

“Oh. I mean, nothing much happened.” He looks down at his feet. “I got up, went to play football, came here.”

“But why did you text me? Why today?”

“I dunno.” You sit in silence for a moment, as you mix the colours. “I mean, my dad came to the match.”

“Right.”

“Pulled his usual shit.”

“Usual shit?”

“Just being a complete dickhead.” You start painting.

“In what way?”

“Saying stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Just the usual stuff.”

“You keep saying “usual” Jamie. I don’t think whatever he said is usual for most people.”

“What about your dad? He said that thing about you being a teacher right? Because you couldn’t paint or summat?” You put your brush down.

“Yeah he did say that. He says a lot of shit, none of which I would consider usual. Or at least it shouldn’t be.” You step off your chair and towards Jamie, reaching gently for his hand. “We don’t just have to take this shit, you know.”

“I don’t fucking take it!” He pulls away. You flinch back. He looks alarmed as he realises. “I should go.” He starts to walk out.

“Jamie, I didn’t mean to upset you -” You walk after him as he paces towards the door. He halts at the entrance.

“I’m not upset, I just - I came here because I didn’t want to think about my dad. When I’m with you, I never think about him. Or anything else, really.” He pauses. “I’m sorry.” Before you can reply, he runs off.

The next few days pass by. You send a few texts to Jamie, but no reply. The exhibition is only a couple of days away now, so you try to keep yourself busy. But his words won’t stop swirling in your head to the point you struggle to sleep. So you do what you always do: paint.

It’s not until one of these nights when you're up late at the canvas that you glance out of the window. Your heart stops. Someone is lying in Jamie's garden, very still. You dare to look closer. Is that..Jamie? He looks glassy eyed. He can't have...Without thinking, you run down.

"Jamie! Jamie!" Your heart is thumping in your ears so loudly you can't hear anything else. "Jamie are you okay?" You ask as you scramble to climb the fence. However just as you are almost over, you catch your foot, spectacularly falling over it into the bushes. You hear that trademark laugh.

"Why are you laughing? I thought you were dead, dipshit!" You say, crawling out of the shrubbery.

He remains lying down but he’s smiling at you now.

"Why would you think I was dead?"

"Why are you lying in your garden on your back completely still at 2am? Let's not pretend this is normal." You crawl down next to him.

“You’re going to think I’m stupid.”

“No I won’t.”

He looks away from you.

“I mean everyone else does, why wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t think they do.”

“There’s my dad. Plus, I’ve read Twitter.”

“You know how I feel about your dad and Twitter is full of very stupid people. But never mind them. I can promise you I don’t. And let’s be honest, I’m the only opinion that matters.” He scoffs as you offer him a pinky. But, he puts his pinky in yours before looking back up at the night sky.

"I can't get up."

"What? Are you injured?"

“No…I dunno, I told you it was stupid."

“It's clearly not that stupid. Are you okay Jamie?”

"I dunno. I was thinking about the other night with you and my dad and then I came outside because I needed some fresh air and then I lay down and started thinking about everything and now it feels like I'm stuck here. It's stupid -"

“Stop saying that.” You lie down and grab his hand. “Sometimes when you've gone through some shit, it comes out of your body in weird ways. But you're okay. We can stay here for as long as you like, but when we get up, you will be able to.”

He nods, and the two of you lie there holding hands in silence. You take some deep breaths and he follows. Eventually a small voice pipes up.

“I think I can go in now.”

You sit up and slowly pull him.

"See?"

He smiles at you gingerly before he looks down.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Huh?”

You look down. Both your knees are cut, along with one of your palms and your wrist.

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

He gently holds your wrist up to the light. He looks sad.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I need to work on my graceful dismount. Either that or just walk around to the back door.”

“I mean, I dunno, I think you could give Simone Biles a run for her money.” You swat him.

“Oi, you cheeky shit! Next time I’ll just leave you for dead.”

“I think the blood loss is going to your head, we should treat that ASAP.” He leads you into his house. “I think I’ve got a first aid kit upstairs.”

He starts walking up and you follow him. He seems surprised. You realise your error.

“Oh, I can wait downstairs if you like.”

“Er, no, it’s fine.” He steps into a bedroom and starts rummaging around in what is clearly an ensuite bathroom. You sit on the edge of his bed and look around. There’s pictures of him and his mum, as well as some pictures with the team and one with a slightly older moustachioed man.

“Is that your dad?”

He pokes his head out and laughs.

“No, that’s our coach Ted.” You look up at him. “He’s a nice guy though. Annoyingly nice. Almost too nice, if you know what I mean.”

“Right.” It was clear Jamie was soft on this man, but you wouldn’t push it today. He sits down and starts gently wiping the cuts. It is the same tenderness he held your foot, and it is the same tenderness that is slowly melting your heart. If you didn’t know any better, you would think you were starting to fall for Jamie Tartt.

You yawn as he applies the final plaster. “Right, you need to go to sleep.” He says, through his own yawn.

"I could say the same for you"

You sit up to leave, but hesitate. YOu feel Jamie’s about to say something.

“Hey, I don’t suppose.. You’d maybe fancy…”

You turn around.

“Staying around?”

Jamie looks at you pleadingly.

“No funny business I promise.” He looks up and offers you a pinky.

“What if I want funny business?”

“Eh?”

“I’m just messing with you Jamie. Besides, I’ve already stolen your knickers anyway.”

“Someone told me that’s a weird thing to say to people.”

“Well, that person sounds very wise.” You look around. “Can I use your bathroom?”

He gestures towards it and you go in. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you think: what the fuck is going on here? You splash some water on your face and tell yourself to get a grip.

“There’s a spare toothbrush in the blue pot if you need it.” Jamie calls through the door.

“Ew gross Jamie, I don’t want to use one of your many girlfriend’s toothbrushes!”

“I’ll have you know that’s brand new as I don’t have any girlfriends at the moment. Although there are sanitary towels if you need them love.”

“Piss off you patronising git!”

“‘Ey, I was trying to be nice and a good feminist and that.”

You brush your teeth before coming out and leaning against the doorframe.

“No girlfriends? What happened to the Island’s top scorer?”

He groans before flopping back onto the bed.

“I thought you didn’t know who I was.”

“I’ve been doing my research.” You get into the bed next to him. He flashes you a dirty grin.

“Bet you have, you little perv.”

“Me? The perv? What you did in that jacuzzi was a crime to my eyes, and probably in several countries.”

“Woah, you have been doing your research - that was like episode 42? 43?”

“What can I say, you make good television?”

Jamie pulls the duvet back before hovering for a moment.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” He gestures to the bed.

“I know. But I’ve been in your position before, and I really needed a friend back then. And I think you would do the same.”

“Any time.”

You squeeze his hand.

“Now go to sleep, you menace.”

“Aye aye captain.”

____

You wake up and find yourself once again not in your own bedroom. In fact, not only are you not in your own bedroom, but you appear to be cuddling Jamie Tartt. You panic silently. Your leg is swung over his, while his arm is draped over you. You try to move, but still asleep, he squeezes you a little tighter. And then something really surprising happens.

He kisses you. Just a little kiss on the forehead, but your chest is fluttering. You hate to admit it but, it feels just so natural. You’re so content and relaxed in his arms then…

Fuck. You fell back asleep. You’re in the exact same problem as before.

This time however, you are both awoken by Jamie’s phone going off. He reaches to switch it off, eyes still closed, but then it rings again. And again. The third time his eyes shoot open.

“Shit!”

“What is it?” You ask from behind bleary eyes.

“The match!”

You slowly sit up and watch him run around and get dressed, silently handing him things on occasion. He runs downstairs and you plod along after him, still half asleep. He runs out of the door, before abruptly stopping and turning around.

“Aren’t you going to wish me good luck or something?”

You wrinkle your nose at him in confusion.

“I don’t need to. You’re going to smash it anyway.”

“How do you know that?”

You shrug and smile.

“I just know.”

At this point, he strides right up to you, before cupping your face in both his hands.

“Jamie what are -” Before you can finish, he kisses you, hard. Your eyes flutter closed and you melt into the kiss, before he pulls away, but only just. His arm reaches around the small of your back and his forehead touching yours, he whispers.

“Wait for me.”

He runs off to his car, and you stroke your bottom lip, where you trace the swell of where he used to be.

Your heart is still pounding and you are unsure what to do with yourself, so you try to make yourself at home. You take a very long, hot shower before getting changed. Of course, you didn’t have any clothes here, so you find some pyjama shorts along with one of Jamie’s old jerseys.

You sit down to watch the match. You had never really gotten into football, but now you were glued to the screen. You couldn’t believe that the little Jamie on screen was the same one who shared a bed with you last night. And the same Jamie that kissed you…

The game is electric, and Jamie in particular is the standout player. Even the commentators remark on his zest this match as he keeps skilfully weaving through the players to lead Richmond into not one, not two but three goals.

Once the match is done, you watch, still glued to your seat when Jamie is invited to an interview.

“Jamie the way you played today was extraordinary, against Man City too. If you don’t mind us asking, what happened?”

“Ah well, I was really inspired by Simone Biles. She’s honestly changed my life.” At that moment, he turns straight to the camera, grins and winks, and you feel like he’s somehow winking right at you. Your heart skips a beat. You were really in trouble.

You look at your phone and Jamie Tartt is trending. Simone Biles herself has already tweeted reminding everyone she is a married woman and has never met Jamie. There are plenty of other women, including some famous other gymnasts and celebrities offering their Biles-like services to Jamie in some rather explicit tweets. You wonder if Jamie reads these ones too.

You walk to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea and as you wait for the kettle to boil, you look at Jamie’s calendar. There’s all sorts of notes, primarily training and matchs but you notice your exhibit is there too, with a little heart drawn around it. Jamie never stopped surprising you. But then a cold shock goes down your spine. You remembered today’s date. You are meant to be going to the gallery this evening to plan the exhibition. Shit. You check the time. You’ve still got three hours left, but you need to get back into your flat ASAP. You scramble around before realising that you had left your phone in the flat last night in the chaos to get out. But you also remembered Jamie and what he had said.

Wait for me.

You write a little note and stick it on the fridge.

____

Jamie comes back way later than he planned. Of course, after the match, there were drinks and celebrations but he couldn’t concentrate on them, just trying to leave to get back to you. He finally manages to break away, but when he gets home, he finds the living room empty. He searches around the rest of the house, and you are nowhere to be found. He checks his phone. No messages. He gets a message through from Keeley about how he’s trending online.

Of course he sees all the Simone Biles stuff and smiles to himself. He made a note to send Simone Biles a message in future, if this all worked out. Then he sees all the stuff other women are saying online. A lot of it is quite graphic and he wondered what you’d think. He imagined the two of you laughing together at them. Then he sees. The tabloids are already speculating. Not only do they actually think he’s having an affair with Simone Biles, but they have already posted some paparazzi shot of him with Keeley, along with long extensive timelines of his tumultuous dating history. His stomach drops. Anyone would run away if they saw this much baggage.

He tries to ring you. Once, twice, three times, No pick up. He’s desperate and pacing, until he realises he can just walk over to your front door. He rings the bell several times, before loudly knocking. Still nothing.

He can’t believe how much he’s fucked it. He knew he shouldn’t have kissed you, but he couldn't help it. No one had made him feel like this, like he was going crazy but also that he was calmer than he had ever been, like riding a lifeboat in the centre of the storm. As he walks back into his flat and into his kitchen, he doesn’t see the small corner of a note that has fallen under the fridge. He checks his phone again.

Still nothing. What could he do?

____

Sorry for the angst kids, hope it was worth it and the finale will be juicy!! lmk if you want to be tagged in the final part!! Not sure if I've done these tags right, apols if not!!

@skewedcherries @e-mmygrey @reading-blogs @alex-sulli @cameoutstruggling93 @sqrlgrl22 @maydayfigment @aiyaiy @alipap3 @okkkkkkksure @city-of-cards

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt x reader #fanfic #romance #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt

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coldfanbou · 1 year

Text

Invitation

Here is the fabled Dahyun piece. Sorry for the delay. Nothing too rough here. Please enjoy.

Length 1.6K

Dahyun x M reader

The cameras focused on Dahyun as she stepped out of her car. She would stop and pose a few times for the camera allowing for a good view of her hourglass figure. Eventually, she could make it inside and watch the fashion show. You had spotted her when she arrived but waited until the show began to make yourself known. Taking the open seat next to her, you take her attention off the models walking past. "Keep looking at the models." You remind her. "It's nice to see you again, Dahyun." You can see Dahyun's head twitch slightly as she struggles to keep her eyes on the runway.

"I thought you weren't going to come."

"Well, I had some free time, and a friend had to drop out last minute." The noise disguises your conversation, allowing you to talk freely. "Are you free after this?"

"I should be; I can make time for you anyway."

"Oh really?" You say with amusement in your voice.

"Always, after all, I feel such a rush. Doing it."

"You enjoy it that much?"

"I've been thinking about you since last time. I'm wet just talking to you." As you glance at her legs, you notice her rubbing them together as she continues. "So, where are you staying? Or are you going to come to my room?"

"I'll pass you a note after I come back; just keep the dress. I want to take it off myself." Dahyun's smile grows, and she stomps her feet with glee. You leave to write a note for Dahyun about where she should go after the show. Once you return, you drop the message in her bag and watch the models go by. Dahyun's smile remains the entire show as she waits for it to end. As it does, you say, "I'll see you there, Dahyun." You stand up and leave while Dahyun does any business she has left.

In your hotel room, you wait for Dahyun to arrive. Deciding to have a little fun, you hide away in the room. You watch as she enters, still wearing that black dress. She looks around. She walks toward the edge of the room and looks down at the passersby. From the tenth floor, everyone looked like ants. Dahyun continued to be distracted by the view; you came out of your hiding spot and got behind her. Putting your hands on her waist, you began to kiss her neck. Small coos escape her as she tries to turn around. "Just keep taking in the view, Dahyun." Moving up her body, you start fondling her breasts. You can feel her nipples poke through the dress as they harden. "Looks like you came prepared."

"Of course, I want to enjoy your company for as long as possible. That makes it easier." You start to undo her dress while pressing her against the window.

"Just imagine all those people watching you get fucked, Dahyun." She visibly shakes upon hearing that. "You love the idea, don't you? You want everyone to see the famous Kim Dahyun being fucked."

Dahyun's breath gets heavy as her dress falls to the floor. "I do."

"That’s what I thought. It's too bad we can't do that. After all, your career would crash and burn if you did." You slap Dahyun's ass and watch it jiggle. "Tell me what you want, Dahyun."

"I want you to fuck me…" she says, turning her head to look at you. You give her a quick kiss while you slide your cock between her thighs.

"Is that all you want, Dahyun? I'm hurt." She quickly turns her head back to the window.

"I-I'd also like to go out with you." Her stutter makes you smile as you thrust between her legs, rubbing her folds with your cock.

"You could say fuck me so easily, but you stutter with asking me out." You can't help but laugh before continuing, "That's so cute, Dahyun. If you have the time, we could go out together, but you'd need to get rid of your manager." Your hands slither up her back and grab onto her bare breasts. Dahyun groans as your warm hands replace the cool glass.

"I'll get rid of him. I'll do it. Just make me feel good now." At her insistence, you start to flick her nipples. Your fingers circle the small nubs before running across them and back. You feel your cock become slick as Dahyun's juices begin to coat it.

"Good, that's good, Dahyun." You nip at her neck, tempted to leave hickeys on her pale skin. "I'll give you what you want, Dahyun." Your right hand momentarily leaves Dahyun's breast to align your cock with her pussy. As you poke and prod at her entrance, Dahyun whines.

"Put it in. Please give me your cock." She begins to moan as she feels your cock slipping inside, spreading her apart. Her warm, slippery walls make you groan in pleasure; Dahyun was always so tight. "Yes…yes…yes," Dahyun chants in a low moan; she rests her head on your chest as you finish burying yourself inside her. You let Dahyun act as a cock warmer for a second, enjoying the feeling of her walls clamped down on your cock. Your hands leave her breasts as you grab onto her waist. You slowly pull your cock out and then slam yourself back in. Dahyun moans loudly as you pierce her.

"That’s it, Dahyun; let me know how good it feels." You moan as you pick up the pace. You watch as her soft ass jiggles each time your bodies come together. Dahyun continues to moan as you stir her insides with every thrust.

"Oh, it feels so good. I love feeling your cock inside me." You watch Dahyun's face as she says that and more. Her eyes are closed, her cheeks flush and turning her milky skin a light shade of red. Wanting to see more of her, you pull out and turn her around. "What are you doing?" She asks before you ram your cock back into her. You hold her thighs and move to her ass, lifting her. Dahyun clutches you tightly as gravity brings her down, forcing your cock deeper. "Oh, God!" She cries as you start bucking your hips. Dahyun rises and falls quickly, your cock slamming into her. You can feel her nails dig into your skin as Dahyun's moans grow louder and her walls begin to squeeze down on your cock. "I'm gonna cum…I'm cumming!" She screams. While she goes through the throes of ecstasy, you continue thrusting. You give Dahyun a hard strike on her bottom as she cums.

"That’s it, Dahyun, cum for me." You say before kissing her. Dahyun returns it with enthusiasm; you play with her tongue as she comes down from her high. She mumbles something while you do so. "What was that, Dahyun?"

"I want you to cum inside me. I can feel your cock throbbing." It was true you were getting close to your orgasm, and hearing Dahyun's invitation, you accepted it. You start to thrust into her like a piston; Dahyun wraps her legs around you as you get closer. Kissing Dahyun, you begin to unload inside her. Dahyun's eyes widen for a moment before closing as she enjoys your warm cum filling her. Her grip on you softens as you press her back against the window. You break the kiss when you feel empty, despite Dahyun trying to milk you for more. You lay Dahyun down on the bed and watch her chest rise and fall. Your cum flows out of her pussy. Dahyun doesn't rest for long, instead lifting herself up and kneeling on the floor. She grabs your cock and strokes it. "I want a taste here, too," she says while using your cock to trace her lips. She pops the head of your cock in her mouth, using her tongue to lick it clean.

"You got a lot better at this, Dahyun. Have you been practicing with someone else?" Dahyun shakes her head vigorously.

"No, I've bought a toy to use. I wanted to get better for you." She says while stroking your cock, covering her hand in cum and her nectar. Dahyun licks her hand clean before showing you she drank it all.

Patting her head, you praise her, "Such a good girl you are, Dahyun." She just smiles at you before going back to your cock. Dahyun's tongue works the underside of your cock while she bobs her head. You moan as she presses the head against the inside of her cheek.

"Guck, I'm going to cum if you keep this up, Dahyun." She looks up from her position to meet your eyes. As you look into hers, they tell you to cum down her throat. Dahyun struggles to hold herself to the base of your cock but stays as long as she can, hoping you cum at that moment. She begins to massage your balls, increasing your pleasure. You start thrusting your hips gently; Dahyun closes her eyes and lets you use her mouth. "Drink it all, Dahyun," you say as you move a little faster. You stuff Dahyun's mouth as you begin to give her a taste of what she wants. Greedily, she drinks all the cum you give her. Even after you've finished cumming, Dahyun continues to suck on your cock before eventually feeling satisfied. On shaky legs, Dahyun stands; you lift her and place her back on the bed.

"That was great, Dahyun." You say while panting.

"You were great; I'm so full." She says while rubbing her stomach. You sit beside Dahyun and pat her back.

"So, do you still want to go out, Dahyun?"

"I do." There's a brief pause, "I'll just have to get rid of my manager for a bit." Dahyun turns to face you, "can you hold me for a little bit?"

"Of course, Dahyun." You lay next to Dahyun and hold her close while she wraps her hands around you.

#dahyun smut #twice smut #kpop smut #male reader #m reader

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chelseachilly · 10 months

Text

THIS LOVE - chapter one | i can make the bad guys good for a weekend

pairing: ben chilwell x reader

rating: T

word count: 2.5k

summary: you and ben attend your first event as a “couple” - chelsea’s annual charity gala

A/N: thanks for all your messages about the little prologue i posted last week! i’m so excited for this story and i’m glad you guys are too :) this chapter title is from blank space by taylor swift, each chapter will correspond with a 1989 lyric

previous chapter | view all chapters

You don’t know what you anticipated your life to look like after you agreed to be Ben’s fake girlfriend, but it proves very quickly to be more of a commitment than you imagined.

In the first week alone, you have to go two meetings with him and his team to discuss what your “relationship” is going to look like, what your story is, and how you’re going to sell it to the public.

His publicist also tries to get you to sign a contract and an NDA, both of which Ben insists are unnecessary.

It feels weird for you to be involved in such an elaborate lie, and Ben obviously senses your discomfort as he tells you a few times that you can back out if you want. You know that he needs this, though, or he wouldn’t have asked you in the first place, so you wouldn’t dream of it.

You end up going with a simple story that doesn’t deviate too much from the truth - you two are childhood best friends who recently realized there’s more than friendship there and decided to explore a romantic relationship. The only change you have to make to your lifestyle, according to Shreya, is attending some high-profile events as Ben’s date and behaving like a couple whenever you’re in public.

It doesn’t sound too difficult, at least apart from having to pretend you’re in love with your best friend, but it’s definitely not a small lifestyle change.

Your first appearance as a “couple” is Chelsea’s annual charity gala, which most of the boys bring their wives or girlfriends to, at which you’ll be expected to wear a fancy dress and pose for photos with him and generally behave like Ben’s girlfriend.

You’ve gone on some nice holidays and been to some fancy restaurants with Ben over the years, but this is different. That much is clear when you get to Ben’s after work on Friday to get ready for the gala he’s taking you to and find racks and racks of designer gowns in his living room.

“What’s all this?” you ask as your eyes scan the dozens of shimmering dresses.

“Oh, my stylist sent them over for you,” Ben shrugs. “I know you said you had a dress, but feel free to pick one of these if you want. It’s on me, obviously.”

The dress you were going to wear is nothing compared to any of these, but you figure if you’re going to be a believable football WAG you need to dress the part.

“You know, I really don’t like you spending money on me,” you sigh.

“I know,” Ben chuckles - you’ve made that quite clear over the years. “But you’re giving up your Friday night to go to a stupid posh gala with me that I know you’ll hate, so let me buy you a stupid posh dress.”

“Fine,” you smile, standing on your tiptoes to quickly peck his cheek before going to browse your options.

After selecting a dress, you head upstairs to get ready in the guest bedroom that’s yours whenever you crash here.

You take your time doing your hair and makeup before slipping into the shiny silver gown you picked out. It’s made out of a silky material and there’s a slit up the leg, but it’s still modest enough for the gala. You trust that Ben’s stylist would’ve picked clothing suitable for the event, even though it’s fancier than anything you would typically wear.

Just as you’re struggling with the zipper at the back, there’s a knock on the door accompanied by Ben’s voice asking if you’re ready.

“Yeah, can you zip me up?” you shout back, giving him permission to enter.

As Ben walks in, you turn to face him, taking in the rare sight of him in a suit. The traditional black suit he has on is perfectly tailored and, you have to admit, he cleans up nice.

He blinks a couple times at the sight of you, his eyes scanning the gown you picked out.

“What is it?” you ask, suddenly feeling a bit insecure. “Is the dress alright?”

“What?” Ben asks, seeming a bit dazed for a moment. “Oh, um, yeah! No, it’s great. You look great. I’m just so used to seeing you in scrubs or joggers.”

You smirk, crossing your arms. “That’s a nice way to call me a slob.”

“I’m trying to compliment you, dummy,” Ben replies, rolling his eyes as he walks over to you.

You turn around so he finish doing up the dress, which he does quickly and easily. You try not to think about how many girls’ dresses he’s helped zip up, and how many more he’s taken off.

“Alright,” Ben says, gently patting your arm as he finishes. “Good to go? The car’s waiting out front.”

“Yep, ready.”

You slip on the shoes that accompany the dress, a similar shade of silver, and grip onto the railing as you descend Ben’s spiral staircase in the slightly precarious heels.

You both climb into the back of the sleek SUV waiting out front to take you to the hotel in Chelsea where the gala is being held. Your nerves begin to settle in on the drive as you realize that this is actually happening, and you’re going to have to put on a show in front of hundreds of people and cameras in just a few minutes.

“Hey, you okay?” Ben asks, looking up from his phone with a concerned gaze in your direction.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you say with a forced smile. He obviously doesn’t believe you - he knows you too well for that - and continues to glare at you, waiting for the truth. “I just…do you really think this is believable?”

Ben frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Like, us as a couple,” you sigh. “I mean, how many footballers do you know that are dating a nurse? Or anyone that isn’t a size zero model for that matter?”

You both know it’s unlike you to talk yourself down, as you’re generally fairly confident, but you can’t help but feel insecure about walking into a room filled with beautiful women who are a lot more comfortable in this world than you are.

Ben, to his credit, looks genuinely appalled.

“Hey, don’t talk about my best friend like that,” he jests, poking you in the ribs. “You look amazing. They’ll all be wondering how I landed you, not the other way around.”

You can’t help but blush a bit, shoving Ben’s chest lightly.

“Save it for the cameras, Benji,” you say with a slight eye roll, though your smile betrays you.

He grimaces slightly at the nickname that he hates but begrudgingly allows you and only you to call him.

“Also, let’s be honest, you save lives for a living and I kick a ball around,” he points out. “The whole point of this is that you’re helping my image, remember?”

“That’s true, I guess I am out of your league,” you tease, making Ben stick his tongue out at you like he would when you were kids.

You pull up to the hotel soon after, and you brace yourself as the driver opens the door for you. The flashing lights of the cameras are blinding the moment you’re exposed to them, making you squint slightly.

Ben steps out first before offering you a hand to help you out of the car, waiting until your feet are securely on the ground before letting go.

“You ready?” he asks, gesturing with his head to the red carpet that awaits you.

You glance over at the carpet, which is lined with more paparazzi. Thankfully, you recognize some of Ben’s teammates immediately, which makes you feel a bit more at ease.

“Yeah,” you nod, taking Ben’s outstretched arm.

As you make your way into the carpet, you can feel your heart racing. The paps are calling out Ben’s name, wanting him to look in their direction, and it’s all a bit overwhelming.

Your train of thought is immediately paused as Ben slides his arm around your waist, settling it low on your hip. It’s much more intimate than any way he’s touched you before, but Shreya’s words from your meeting a few days prior echo in your mind.

You need to act like a couple. It needs to seem natural.

It definitely feels a bit strange having your friend touch you like this, but once you’re over the initial surprise, you actually find Ben’s arm around you to be incredibly grounding. You lean into his touch as you smile for the cameras, trying to look the part of the supportive girlfriend.

“You’re doing great,” Ben murmurs softly in your ear. “Almost done.”

You pose for a few more photos before he leads you toward the entrance. You know you’ll have to keep up appearances for the rest of the evening, but you’re glad the most public part of it is over.

As you enter the stunning ballroom, filled with many familiar faces of Chelsea’s players and staff, Ben’s arm remains around your waist.

“So, who here actually knows about our…arrangement?” you ask quietly as you move through the room.

You had both already informed your close friends and family about the situation to avoid any confused texts when the photos of you and Ben acting as a couple made their way online.

You know Ben told his best mates, like Tom, Harvey, Anish, Madders, and obviously Mason, who had come to be a close friend of yours over the years he and Ben were together at Chelsea too. You just aren’t sure if he told anyone at the club.

“Just Reece,” Ben says. “He asked if I was bringing a date and I figured since he knows you, it would make sense to tell him the truth.”

While you’re friendly with a lot of Ben’s teammates, you haven’t spent much time with most of them and they likely don’t know the extent of your friendship with Ben and wouldn’t bat an eye at the two of you now “dating.” You’ve known Reece for years, though, and he would definitely be confused by this sudden change.

“Okay,” you murmur, “so we have to act like a couple all night, basically?”

“Basically,” Ben says with a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, I know it’s weird. But we don’t really have to do anything special, I’ll just tell people you’re my girlfriend if anyone asks.”

“Oh, so we don’t have to go up on the stage and make out?” you mutter sarcastically. “What a relief.”

Ben chuckles and nudges you in the arm.

“I think no kissing is probably a good ground rule,” Ben suggests. “Sorry if the touching and stuff out there was too much.”

“No, it’s fine, if we’re gonna do this we have to sell it,” you shrug. “But I agree, there’s no amount of money you could possibly earn from improving your brand that would be worth kissing you. It’s too gross.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Could you at least lower your voice? Don’t really need people hearing my girlfriend say kissing me is gross.“

You laugh as Ben grabs two champagne flutes from a server and passes you one, which you clink against his before taking a sip. You definitely need some alcohol to get through this whole evening of pretending to be Ben’s girlfriend.

As you find your seats, you’re relieved to see that you’re sitting with Reece and his girlfriend Mia, meaning you won’t have to talk about your fake relationship all through dinner.

“Hey, it’s the happy couple,” Reece jokes as Ben pulls out a chair for you to sit next to Mia. “You look nice, Y/N.“

“Thanks, Reece,” you say as you hug Mia. “It’s nice to see you guys. This event is way too posh for me.”

“I know how you feel,” Mia smiles. “It felt weird the first time I came to one of these. And obviously it’s even weirder for you, with this whole…situation.”

“Yeah,” Reece says, lowering his voice a bit to ensure only the three of you can hear. “How the hell did Chilly get you to agree to this? Does he have blackmail on you or something?”

“Well, I do have some pretty embarrassing drunken Snapchat videos-“ Ben begins to say, but your glare cuts him off and he shakes his head and laughs. “Nah, mate. She’s just the fucking best.”

Your heart skips a beat at that, but you don’t have too much time to think about why before Ben and Reece have changed the subject to football.

A photographer comes around to take photos of each table, and Ben rests his arm on the back of your chair and leaves it there afterward as the four of you continue to chat.

Ben and Reece eventually go to get you guys another round of drinks before the entertainment begins - though the boys will have to stick to water for the rest of the night unless they want to hear about it from Poch at training on Monday.

“You know, you two actually make a convincing couple,” Mia says with a wink when you two are alone at the table.

“Yeah, right,” you chuckle, fiddling with a cocktail napkin. “I’m glad you think it’s believable, though. The sooner we improve Ben’s image, the sooner we can stop doing this.”

Mia nods, though she still looks a bit uncertain. “Right, well, he owes you big time. There’s a lot of scrutiny that comes with being in the public eye. You’ll be taking on all the risk of dating a footballer without any of the reward. That’s really generous of you.”

Honestly, you hadn’t thought too much about how all of this might impact you. You just knew that Ben needed your help.

Although you’re a bit tempted to check Twitter and see if people have already begun to talk about you, you decide you’ll deal with that later and just try to enjoy your evening for now.

Your anxieties do ease significantly when Ben returns to the table with your favourite drink in hand and a smile on his face.

“You good?” he asks softly, leaning in close so only you can hear.

You nod, returning his smile. “Just a bit nervous still.”

“You’re doing amazing,” Ben says sincerely. “But I know this isn’t how you would want to spend your Friday night, so thank you.”

“For the millionth time, it’s no big deal,” you insist. “This isn’t so bad, anyways. I’m just overthinking everything like always.”

“Well, I want you to tell me if any of this gets to be too much, at any point, and that’ll be the end of it,” he says firmly. “Okay?“

You nod, meeting his soft gaze and feeling your worries melt away even more.

“Okay.”

As the lights dim and the musical entertainment for the evening begins, Ben’s arm once again finds its way to the back of your chair and his hand loosely plays with a strand of your hair.

It’s too dark for anyone but you to notice, but for some reason, you don’t bother pointing that out to him.

A/N: let me know what you think so far! hoping to have the next chap out soon :)

tag list: @lunamelona @kathb59 @captainwans @amandaaa1025 @bbygrlllllll (let me know if you would like to be added!)

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell x y/n #ben chilwell imagine #chelsea fc imagine #this love #my fics

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sigmaleph · 7 months

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The hero burst through the wall of the library in my secret liar. Fortunately not one of the walls that had bookshelves on it.

"This ends now, Doctor Calamity! You are going to prison for the rest of your life!"

I sighed, closed my book, and looked up at Admiral Nova. "Can it wait? Kind of on vacation right now."

"Your only vacation is going to be-", he started, and stopped when a forcefield popped up around him, at which point he just started uselessly blasting it with his lasers.

"No, seriously, it's not a good time. I was really getting into this new book series? Well, new to me, it's been going on for a couple decades now, I'm really surprised it... you're not paying attention at all, are you. Full body restraints, please."

At my command, bands of energy wrapped themselves around Nova's every limb, immobilising him. Smaller versions of the forcefield appear around his hands, in case he was going to be rude enough to fire an unaimed blast in my library. He struggled, but there was much less noise going on.

"Right. I really don't have anything scheduled for you for this week, so I don't know why you decided to show up, but can we just agree to ignore this and I'll have some diabolical scheme for you to thwart by next Monday?"

"I don't know what game you think you're playing, but I will escape-", he started, but I cut him off

"You don't need to, I can just send you home right now, assuming you agree to let me have my vacation"

"You're pretending you're not gonna try to kill me, is that it?"

"Why on Earth would I want to kill you?"

"...because I'm always thwarting your evil plans to take over the world? And you keep putting me in death contraptions like this one?"

"Oh my god you're serious aren't you. I thought you just had a thing against dropping character, which, whatever, your business, but you really are serious about this."

"Of course I'm serious about saving the world from you! You're a supervillain!"

"Dude. How have you not figured it out yet. If I wanted you dead, you would be. If I wanted my 'diabolical plans' to succeed, they would have."

"Did you get hit on the head or something?" he sneered. "Is 'Oh I never wanted to take over the world' your feeble attempt at psychological warfare"

"I took over the world decades ago, genius. There's no trying involved. I just-" I took a deep breath, and continued.

"You've seen what I can do! I have an unlimited power source! I can mass-produce sentient robots! I can build mind control beams! I have a time machine that lets me alter the past and see the future!

"And you think some asshole with lasers can pose a meaningful obstacle???"

He did not respond.

"Nova. You've been doing this for six years. Six. Fucking. Years. How on Earth have you never gotten suspicious about how you keep escaping my 'death traps' at the last second, and random clues to figure out my 'evil scheme' show up out of nowhere whenever you need one, and I never just send a fucking robot army to your house, which you know I know the address of, and kill you in your sleep?"

"Why? Why the hell do you do any of it then?"

"For fun, obviously? And I figured you hero types could use the enrichment, too, if you don't have a supervillain to fight you lot just get restless and decide you need to go beat up purse snatchers or whatever.

"So yes, after I finished replacing every world leader with robot doppelgangers loyal to me and getting a supercomputer to spy on everyone on the planet to detect plans that could potentially overthrow me and setting up a handful other layers of redundancy like that, and after I got bored of micromanaging shit and figured out that I had the system running basically as I liked it, I got a hobby. And I thought you were having fun too, but seriously? You thought it was all real?"

I waved my hand, and Nova teleported out.

"Computer!" I yelled out. I needn't have; it would have shown up anyway. Omniscient smartass.

Immediately, of course, a holographic eye appeared.

"What the hell" I asked.

"You specifically instructed me on the spoiler policy, boss. We can step through the rules if you like, but this definitely falls under 'Don't tell me if it'd spoil my fun', and under none of the stated exceptions."

"We're fucking recalibrating that, then. Jesus."

#fiction

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bronx-bomber87 · 5 months

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Happy Weekend! How exciting we have a premiere date! Feb 20th. The light is at the end of the tunnel wonderful fandom. It’s beautiful and bright. I’m going to crank up to 3 reviews a week so I finish the week before s6 premieres. So this worked out nicely heh

Ahh this episode is another giant friggin work flirt. That competitive fire that drives one of their love languages is prominent af in this episode. Only they could take a shift apart and turn it into a flirtatious competition. The marriage vibes are extreme in this one in the best way ha Let’s get going.

4x06 Poetic Justice

We start off with Tim getting an assignment from Grey. He wants to get Jerry Mcgrady to retire. They’re running out of things to assign him to that aren’t a strain on him. Front desk he takes too much time telling stories. Even the kit room is becoming too much for him. So it’s Tim’s job today to have the ‘It's time to retire talk.’ Tim being Tim says it’ll be a piece of cake. Wanting to prove himself to Grey he can handle it no problem. That the tough conversations aren't an issue.

That if he doesn’t agree he can use his injury for an involuntary retirement. Cold Timothy. Cold. Tim makes it to the Kit Room and is instantly thawed. He is ready to hit him with the cold hard truth as he put it to Wade. Before he can Jerry gives him a load of praise right off that bat. It makes Tim stumble off the blocks super early. It's so sweet and genuine too. How could he not struggle after saying he's proud? I'm sure those are words he never got from his own old man.

Tim tries again and fails for a second time. It’s the way Jerry is looking at him. Tim can’t pull the trigger. Instead he invites him out to ride with him LOL Well done Tim baha This was not the plan at all my love. Tim Bradford is a softie and we all know it. Grey walks up asks how it went? Tim admits he faltered and he’s riding with him instead.... Grey is beaming. Knowing he wouldn't be as ruthless as he claimed in his office. Wade can’t help but give him crap on top of it. Asking what happened to the 'Cold hard truth?' Tim swears by end of day he’ll get him to retire. Mmhmm sure.

In the cold open Nolan and Harper arrested a man digging in a city park. He was following a treasure hunt riddle. With Tim swapping Lucy out for Jerry she is riding with Nolan. He hands her the riddle and she starts to decipher it. Lucy figures out the first clue and they go to the pier. When they roll up people are fighting. A young woman is killed by getting an ax to the chest. People are insane.

This is what brings it to the LAPD’s full attention since there is a casualty. They find out the author of the riddle is a previous criminal. He was apart of a robbery where he hid 2 million in gold coins. They never recovered them. So the city is losing it's collective mind trying to find it. They need to be the first to get it. Grey calls Lucy up cause she was the first to solve a clue. She is beaming as she makes her way up.

Let’s first admire the forearm porn we’re getting in this first gif. Man makes me so thirsty I need a glass of water. Arms-crossed Tim is one of my fav poses. Those glorious biceps popping out of those sleeves too. Whew lord. Anyway Lucy is so very excited to present her findings. How she got the clue she did. It’s adorable how proud she is of it. Look how Tim never takes his eyes off her the entire time. You know he loves when she analyzes and breaks things down.

Her intelligence is a turn on for him whether he wants to admit it or not. He can’t let anyone catch onto his admiration... So he calls her ‘Nerd.’ to make fun of her. Which fails because it comes off super flirty. Negating his idea to to tease her for her brain. It comes across as banter more than anything else. Fail Timothy big fat Fail. Your mouth is saying one thing. Your body language and intense gaze say another...

Jerry is a sweetheart and tells her not to let Tim shame her. It’s a great catch. This is why it's hard for anyone to have the retirement talk with him haha A kind station grandpa to them all. Lucy goes from being annoyed to thanking Jerry. Tim’s sly little smile when she does is so cute. You know he’s proud of her being in the spotlight. Sporting her brain but has to tease her. It's how they function haha They’re so cute I can not. Flirting once again for all of the station to see. It's truly a wonder they're in the dark about it.

I love this moment between Harper and Tim. I'm glad I had the room to add this in. She joins in with Lucy's train of thought for the rest of the poem. Flaunting her brain as well. Tim gives her a look wanting to make fun of her as well. Nyla is on it and dares him to call her a nerd too LOL The looks between them make me laugh so much. I love their teasing camaraderie. It's my favorite. It's how Harper and Lucy get paired up to decipher the rest of the clues. Nolan feels left out cause well it's Nolan. Like that kid picked last for dodgeball. Grey tells John if he asks nicely he's sure he can join them. SMH. Friggin Nolan ha.

The cuteness continues when Lucy asks if Tim and Jerry wanna be part of her task force? That she can make it happen haha She’s adorable and I can not stand it. Tim does what he does best battles back with a flirty tone. Trying to talk down about her ‘task force’. Saying old fashioned policing will get it done just fine for them.

Flirt more you two…oh wait they do. Ha Lucy offers up a bet she knows Tim won’t refuse. Because once again why deal with feelings when they can channel it through a work flirt instead? Honestly how Jerry could allow Tim to date his daughter after this display I couldn’t tell ya. It's so painfully obvious how into one another these two are.

They lay down the terms for the loser. Tim saying she has to be quiet an entire shift. Please Timothy like you really want that…but ok that’s your “reward” if you win. I mean it would drive her crazy not to talk so it’s not the worst pick. Lucy choses something way more apropos IMO. He would have to do something out of his comfort zone. Not only that but it’s her choice. Can only imagine what Lucy would've chosen. Something that would've been good for him I'm sure. Cause she's good like that. Her track record with him is solid.

Lucy's face is so smug from the minute she brings this bet up. So convinced she has this in the bag. Gah these two love a good competition and flirting it up a ton in the process. Like pre-get together foreplay for them haha They then start the worlds longest handshake to seal the deal. They once again are in their own world. Like Jerry isn't even there…

The best part is while they continue to work-flirt they're holding hands. They could've broken it off but nope. Basically holding hands while they fiercely flirt. The flirty competitiveness continues with their jabs. The poetry club shot from Tim. Her being sassy af about their 18 old case files. Saying how ‘easy’ that’ll be for them to crack. LMAO Shots fired. All the while still holding hands. Because the work flirting wasn’t enough of a bat-signal to everyone else. They continue to hold hands while doing so. Seriously Jerry couldn’t you see the man was already taken?

We return to Lucy still at the whiteboard with Harper/Nolan. She gets a text from Tim saying they had a big breakthrough. Lucy could not be more dejected and anxious for them to get their own. Nolan and Harper tell her to ignore Tim. He’s just trying to get into her head. Yeah that's what he does. He kinda lives there rent free and vice versa with this kind of stuff. Good luck getting her to listen to that advice haha She is far too wrapped up in this competition with Tim to have that clarity. She does eventually put her phone down though.

Her taking a phone break does help her focus a bit. Because once she does they have a breakthrough of their own. They’re headed to the Griffith Observatory. Lucy is vibrating with excitement over this. She’s more excited to tell Tim they got something more than anything else. It’s so funny and adorable. The commentary in the gifs above is hilarious.

They are legit just trying to solve this case. While Lucy gets amped that they're gonna catch up with Tim and Jerry. Harper and Nolan’s reaction to her is priceless in the second gif. Lucy is too caught up in her work flirt. Telling them before they go she has to text Tim first. Let him know they’re gonna kick his ass. Because priorities LMAO

The way they look at each other is the funniest part. First and foremost they didn’t ask to be apart of this flirty bet haha They’re in it just to solve a case. Second they’re thinking does she not see it? She has to see it right? We know she doesn’t baha If she does she’s pushing it down real hard since 4x01 and it’s coming out in other ways. I.e. this moment. It’s so funny how lost in her bet she is. Doesn’t notice their hilarious reactions at all. I’m dying haha.

Tim tries again to have a frank conversation with Jerry. Since it’s day 2 of him riding with him and he was supposed to retired by yesterday... Jerry looks at the file again while Tim tries to muster up the courage. It's then he has an epiphany. Says he knows where the gold is. Tim asks if he’s sure? Jerry replies absolutely.

Now Tim’s first thought isn’t yes we solved the case. Or they got redemption for Jerry and his friend who never found the coins. No it’s excitement he’s going to beat Lucy in a bet LOL Man is amped about beating her to it. Like a high he’s been chasing the entire episode. God I love this so much. Flirty idiots in love have no idea.

This next portion is their married moment of the episode. Lots of work flirts but this interaction is all married. They are so ridiculous and I love them for it. The trio have figured out where the treasure is through the poem. An underground subway system sitting beneath the city. One of the people that has been chasing this thing since the jump causes chaos once the trio arrive. He shoots the last person also going after it. He takes off Lucy and Harper leave Nolan with the wounded one so they can pursue him.

They find him and he starts running again. Out of nowhere Tim comes into the picture and uses that sexy forearm of his to clothes line the guy. Lucy is shocked and impressed all at the same time. Me too. *fans self* Asking how they got here so quickly? Tim tells them they were already down here. Lucy then asks if they found the treasure? Tim smirks and says they’re gonna find out. Walks them over to a hole with a suitcase in it.

The final competitive flirting begins. Tim immediately claiming victory for him and Jerry. Because that suitcase is holding the missing gold. Nyla fights him on it though. Saying they would’ve been here first, but they had a police matter to deal with. Tim scoffs and tells them good job but they still won LOL The absolute sass coming off this man.

Lucy backs Harper in agreement and doesn’t let Tim battle back. Sassy return fire with her cocky smirk. Then the ladies just decide it’s a tie LMAO That Tim gets no say in the matter. I love their body posture mirroring one another in this moment. Lucy leans towards Tim then Tim does the same when he's upset it's considered a tie.

I saw someone call Tim ‘Sargent Sore Loser’ for a parallel of this moment hahaha it’s pretty apt when he loses to his wife. I love it sfm. Lucy waving by then pointing at herself as they walk off is amazing. It's hilarious. It's decided it's over and there is nothing he can do about it. Their flirting was off the charts in this episode. It was wild. Their string of work flirts continue on. One of the themes of S4. It makes me so happy.

I do love this next part with Jerry. It’s very sweet. It shows Tim’s wonderful heart. He went into this trying to prove he could handle the rough convos. That he could dispatch people with the cold hard truth. When it came to it his empathy won out. I truly believe he’s always been a sensitive empathetic person. It's been at his core this whole time.

Talked about this before. Just got lost in the shuffle of everything he went through with Isabel. Lucy reawakened that part of him. Now he taps into it like he does anything else. That heart of his let Jerry go out in a much better way. It’s why he thanks Tim for it. He knew what was coming and appreciated Tim for indulging him one last time. It's so sweet I might have a cavity.

Jerry's send off is equally as lovely at the station. Ashley is there to help celebrate his retirement. They all do their radio tribute that is beautiful to watch tbh. Once everyone clears Tim ends up asking Ashley out. (boo) She says yes and he smiles BUT it was most definitely not a 'Lucy smile.' No one compares at all. It’s unreal how by a smile you can tell when it’s Lucy driven and when it’s not. This for sure was not. So ends another ep. Such a good one for them.

~~~

Side notes-Non Chenford

The introduction to Ashley….how I dislike her so….just gotta make it to 5x05 and she’ll be gone LOL Was around longer than she should’ve been but we’ll get into when we hit s5 heh Also I’ll add more of why I don’t like her as the season progress in this rewatch. There is a reason he dates her IMO which I will also go over at some point as well.

I love any and all Lucy and Harper scenes we get . This one had loads. Amazing how they've bonded over the last 2 seasons. I love it so much. Them working on the riddle together at Lucy's place over beers. My heart. Watching them working this case together brings me joy. Hopefully we get more of this in s6. I need more Nyla/Lucy in my life.

Thank you forever and always to those who like, comment and reblog these reviews. You all make me so happy ❤️ See you all in 4x07 :)

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sl-ut · 1 year

Text

long, long time

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

description: joel and y/n deal with the loss of their close friends in the only way they know how.

warnings: smut, angst, age gap, mentions of death, slight mention of suicidal thoughts, bill and frank, mention of violence

words: 4.3K

date posted: 05/04/23

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Sometimes Y/n wondered why she did the things that she did. She wondered whether things would have been easier or not had she not dropped out of FEDRA school at sixteen, or if she hadn’t gotten mixed up with Tess, or even if one of the many deals that had gone south had resulted in her death. Sure, she may have been stuck living a life where she was hated by the general public and wore a flashing bullseye on her back to attract Fireflies–but hey, anything could be better than this, right?

Y/n wasn’t sure where to go from there, both literally and figuratively. She’d considered fleeing, hell, Joel had given her a prime opportunity to do so when he made no protest to her keeping watch outside, if only her brain could figure out an exact map of the road that they had followed. She cursed herself internally for blanking out for so long, not even taking in her surroundings as she followed behind Joel and Ellie from a safe distance, and even if she had made it back to Boston, she would more than likely get herself killed–either by an infected, sheer dumb luck and stupidity, or executed after getting caught sneaking back into the QZ.

Fucked. She was so fucked.

During the long trek, she had considered Ellie’s burning question; why are you with them? If the fourteen year old girl was able to pick up on the dynamic between the three adults, Y/n considered her own internal debate about whether she was crazy or not to be settled. Sure Joel and Tess had treated her like shit repeatedly in the past, and sure, she always went running back to him the moment that things got rough, but was that truly such a bad thing? He was the only constant she still had in her life, having been on her own from a young age, and he was the only person who seemed to show any sort of care for her wellbeing, even if it was shown in his own brutal way. Truth be told, Y/n wouldn’t make it a day without him, and the dread and shame behind that truth ate away at her slowly and painfully.

Another issue at hand was Tess–though, an entirely different issue than she had usually posed.

Tess was dead, bitten by a clicker in the museum and blown to bits by her own free will. The loss of the older woman was a blow to the entire group–Joel had closed off even more than usual, Ellie seemed a bit skittish and did her best to keep the conversation away from it, and Y/n, well she wasn’t quite sure how she felt.

Bile had risen up her throat and splattered onto the concrete at the sight of the building that they had fled going up in flames, and she had struggled to withhold her tears on the journey. Though each time that she felt the urge to cry, she heard Tess’s voice taunting her, pouring fresh salt into old wounds. Grow the fuck up. Don’t be so weak. I still don’t understand how you’re even still alive. The woman had been vile to her, down right nasty; calling her names, sending her on deals that she knew would end badly, always giving her the shitty rations that she would scrounge up and split the better portions between herself and Joel. Every moment when Y/n began to mourn her, she began to burn with untouched rage.

Then, as the flames of anger died within her, she would reminisce on her early relationship with Tess. The woman had saved her–as much as Y/n accredits her survival to Joel, Tess had once been equally as crucial to her wellbeing. For so long, helping Tess out with deals was the only way that she could afford food and resources, and the woman had patched her up countless times after finding her huddled up in an alleyway. She had once acted like somewhat of a mother figure to her–albeit, a deadbeat one. For years, Y/n wondered what she could have done to the woman to make her change her tune so quickly, switching Y/n’s nickname from hon to dog in the matter of days.

Now that she knew that reason, she couldn’t help but feel a moderate amount of guilt. In her own story, Y/n had made Tess a villain. While she had certainly performed actions to earn this title, Y/n now understood exactly why she had felt such a way. She continued to console herself, telling herself that she didn’t know, and that she had asked her before pursuing anything with Joel–because she had–though a part of her always had a suspicion that something had gone on between the pair, she just couldn’t prove it.

I never asked you to feel the way I felt.

The single sentence had confirmed to her what she had suspected from the beginning–Tess had been in love with Joel, and he was more than aware of that when he brought Y/n into his life so intimately. She wondered how long he had known; was it before they got together? Could he have possibly pushed Tess out of the way in favour of a younger woman? What if she had confessed to him after he and Y/n had gotten together? All that time when he would sit there and let the pair of them put each other down, he had always known that the cause of such chaos was his own inability to convey his own feelings. He was choosing to allow both of them to fight while he protected himself from it all–it was all making so much more sense. His hesitation when she asked him to stand up for her, his reluctance to show her affection in front of Tess–it wasn’t to protect the bond he had with either of them, he was simply removing himself from the conflict that he had started.

She had yet to bring it up to him, not having a moment away from the nosy teenager who would most certainly insert herself in any argument that might erupt between them. From the beginning, the girl had made it her mission to bug Joel as much as possible, though Y/n knew that such instigation would only cause a blowup much larger than the one to already be expected. Though, he knew that she was angry with him–he could always tell.

He hadn’t been gentle with either her or Ellie while getting them out of the city, pushing and dragging them through alleyways until they had stumbled into the treeline, scarcely uttering a word to either of them as they set up a place to rest and regroup. He had, however, noticed the slight tremor of her body as she curled against a tree. Quietly, he offered her a sip of his water to clear the vile taste of vomit from her mouth, then tucked his jacket around her shoulders before trudging off to the rushing creek nearby.

When he returned, his jacket had been abandoned by the girl and laid over Ellie’s legs for warmth. That was the first tell. The next few were her blatant ignorance of his presence, whether she be disobeying his orders or actively tuning him out, speaking only to Ellie for the remainder of the walk. While he may not have been the most intuitive man when it came to women, he wasn’t dumb enough to be confused as to why she was angry with him, and he, too, was unwilling to bring it up with Ellie present.

Ellie had been a regular chatterbox once the small group parted ways with Cumberland Farms, asking a series of questions about life before the outbreak, needing to be reminded several times that Y/n genuinely could not remember much beyond brief flashes of nostalgia from her early childhood. She was amazed by the remains of an airplane that they came upon, having crashed into the slope of a field, and began spewing her own personal theories about how exactly shit had hit the fan. When she received dreadfully boring drawls of explanations from Joel, she began to ask about the two men that they were going to find. Joel was a bit tightlipped about them, uttering only that Frank was the nicer one of the two.

“Bill’s a survivalist. Built the whole place to withstand a disaster before it even happened, you’ll definitely like him,” Y/n added, nudging the girl’s shoulder, “But, uh, Frank’ll like you. He loves to meet new people.”

The girl smiled fondly to herself, remembering the first time that she had spoken to him over the radio. She had been napping on Joel’s couch, waiting for him to come back from a work detail when a voice crackled through.

“Hello, hello? Joel, Tess? Anyone there?”

Y/n reached for the receiver, fingers hesitating over the button as she considered how much trouble she would get in with both of them for interfering, but they would likely give her just as much shit for not answering.

“Hello?” She answered slowly, “I’m here.”

“Tess?”

She grimaced, “Uh, no. I’m Y/n.”

The radio crackled quietly, the man’s silence proving his confusion, “Y/n? I’m sorry–where are you transmitting from?”

“Joel’s apartment,” she answered, chewing her lip, “I’m…a friend. Is this Bill?”

A small chuckle came through, “Fortunately for you, no. I’m Frank.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“And I’ve heard nothing about you. How old are you?”

She hesitated, “How old are you?”

“Touché.”

She giggled to herself before responding, “Sorry, but Joel and Tess aren’t here. Can I take a message or something?”

“You can just tell them to radio back. Now tell me, who exactly is this mysterious third party that we’ve never heard of?”

She had been correct in suspecting a tongue lashing for even touching the radio, but she was more than happy that she had. Y/n and Frank had begun chatting on the radio at least once a week, sharing stories, ideas, and bored ramblings back and forth while Joel, Tess, and Bill took care of the majority of the heavy lifting. Frank had even encouraged her to join Joel and Tess on their next visit, which she did, despite the protest.

“My word, you must be Y/n,” the voice was so familiar, and the grin on the man’s face was just as welcoming in person as his voice had been over the radio, “You’re prettier than I pictured you.”

She laughed, dropping her pack onto the step as she slumped onto the bench next to him, quickly looping her arm through his as if they had personally known each other for years. Bill watched on with furrowed brows, glancing over at Joel, who seemed equally surprised and not at all at how quickly she and Frank had become friends.

Y/n ignored the pair, “I have to say the same. Now what’s this I hear about hot water?”

Lincoln was probably a once unsuspecting town, the type of place where very few could actually afford to live, and consisted of mostly young families and the elderly. Now, as the small group approached the town, it was comparable to a small fortress. Y/n had been gleeful as she had passed through the gate, eager to meet her friends once more and simmer in the comforting warmth of one of Frank’s hugs, though her heart sank at the realisation that it would never come.

She was saddened by the dust that had gathered around the house. Frank had once made an effort to keep the place tidy, always prepared to offer comfort to his three favourite guests when they made the trip–though Y/n only had the pleasure of visiting twice before. Now, as she dragged her fingers over the dusty vanity in one of the spare bathrooms, the weight of this loss began to settle over her.

Ellie had showered first, leaving Joel and Y/n alone in the bunker to experience the tension on their own. Y/n made a quick exit as Joel worked with his homemade battery for the truck, returning to the fancy dining room in the house. She tidied up the mess that had been left on the table–old food covered in fuzz and flies being tossed in the trash before she carefully washed and placed the fine china back into the cabinet where it belonged. She was glad to find some food still in the fridge, picking through it to find the bits that had not spouted mould spores and putting together three equal portions.

She ate hers alone, waiting patiently at the table for Ellie to clear out of the bathroom so she could take her own shower. The spray of the hot water over her body was the final straw that she hadn’t even known that she needed to release the built up emotions over the past few days. Tears rolled down her cheeks first, silently mixing in with the streams of water before her shoulders finally began to heave with deep rooted sobs. All hope of privacy was thrown out of the window–she was unsure of exactly how loud she was being, but she was no longer concerned with the threat of Ellie hearing if she were to wander by the door.

A slow creak echoed through the bathroom, barely audible to her over the sound of running water and throaty sobs–she almost didn’t even react when the shower curtain slid open behind her and a large figure took up the space behind her. His hands touched her back carefully, the ghost of a touch acting as an offer of comfort. Her flesh prickled underneath the press of his calloused fingers, and her head screamed at her to push him away, to scream at him for coming in uninvited and bringing all of the accusations that she had been stewing over to light.

Instead, she slowly turned around to face him, her splotchy face burying in his firm chest while her arms wound around his waist. His hands settled around her shoulders, acting like a safety blanket as her body shook with her cries, nose burrowing into the wet mop of hair atop her head and whispering quiet affirmations. Joel knew how much she had loved the two old men, even if she had only been granted the pleasure of meeting them in person twice before; he felt an overwhelming sense of regret over not allowing her to come with them more often when they would visit Lincoln.

“Joel–” she sniffled against his wet skin, raising her gaze to meet his. His dark eyes were swimming with turmoil. He was grieving for the loss of his partners, of his friends, and yet he was still holding every ounce of emotion in to avoid either of the younger females to see. This typical act of his was the kind of thing that made her feel very self conscious about how vulnerable she so often was around him, while he showed almost no vulnerability whatsoever. “I–”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, one hand smoothing through the sopping mass of hand on her hand and curling his fingers around the base of her skull, “I just–”

Her own hand slid up, grasping the back of his neck and forcing his head to tilt down so that his forehead bumped against her own. She nuzzled her nose against his, fluttering her eyes closed as his fingers began to slide down her back, finding purchase in the dip of her spine.

As his lips came crashing onto her own, any instinct to push him away quickly faded away, her lips moving against his with fervour as her body relaxed against him, dormant to his touch. She moved her spare hand to rest on his chest, fingers curling into the coarse hair that scattered across the muscle, letting it slowly inch down his sternum and over his plush belly, resting along his lower stomach, as if asking for permission.

He grunted against her, pulling her closer to his body at the teasing touches of her fingers. He was halfway there, continuing to harden against her thigh as his own fingers kneaded the flesh of her back, hips, and down to her bum. He let out a soft groan as she finally took him in her grasp, curling her digits around him and working at a slow, steady pace until he was ready.

They didn’t have much time, they both knew that. Ellie would come looking for them eventually, and while they didn’t expect her to be ignorant enough to not know what was going on upstairs, they didn’t need her interrupting–she had enough ammo against Joel as it was. Under normal circumstances, Joel would work her open and prepare her much better, though he could only press her against the tiled wall and tug her thighs apart, running his tip through her dampening folds experimentally.

“Ready?” He grunted, adjusting her thigh to curl around his waist. She nodded hastily, eyes squinting at the pinching sensation of him pressing into her. He paused once he was fully inside, allowing her to adjust to his presence and softly pressing kisses across her jaw and chin to calm her while softly swirling his fingers around her clit.

She curled one arm around his broad shoulders, holding him impossibly close while her other hand rested on the curve of his ass, holding him in place. Softly, she squeezed the taut muscle, signalling for him to move.

Y/n tilted her head back against the wall, the dry drag of him against her inner walls and the sensation against her clit combining to create a strange sensation somewhere between pain and pleasure, though she couldn’t quite place it. She was thankful that her body was quickly making adjustments to this intrusion, wetness beginning to flood her nether regions to lubricate the slow movements of his thrusts, making the pain fade significantly.

“Okay,” she gasped, “Go–go ahead.”

He nodded, lips and teeth dragging over the exposed expanse of her throat as he began a much quicker pace, fingers still working against her bundle of nerves in hopes of getting her there just as quickly as he knew that he would. It was embarrassing how soon he was able to feel his balls tighten in anticipation, curt grunts and groans transforming into desperate moans and pleas for release as he rutted into her. Her own sounds spurred him on, soft gasps and cries of his name reaching his ears as she clenched around him.

He panted her name, eyes clenched shut in concentration as her fingers wound into his hair. She tugged firmly, pulling his head back to force him to meet her gaze. Her eyes were hooded, lips parted to release her soft pants–she was a vision, and made it nearly impossible for him to keep himself from tipping over that edge.

She nodded at him, “Go ahead–fuck–it’s okay.”

Y/n had accepted at this point that she wouldn’t finish. While the pleasure was certainly there, her body needed much more for that to happen, and neither of them had the time to make that happen. Regardless, she needed him just as much as he needed her; the act was providing some comfort to her, a distraction from the overwhelming grief that had taken over her entire being. She reached down, pushing his hand away from her clit moving it to her hips, continuing to encourage him towards his peak as she pressed soft kisses across his hairy jaw.

With a loud grunt, he pulled out of her, watching in awe as she took him in her hand, stroking him at a quick pace until his spend began to spurt out, coating her hand and belly with an alarming amount. He sighed in relief, head dropping onto her shoulder as she slowed her pace, continuing to work him through it until she finally released her grip on him.

Neither of them spoke another word as she moved back into the spray of the water, using a small dab of honey scented soap to wash away the mess he had made, then carefully helped him wash himself. She was gentle as she massaged the suds across his knuckles, cleaning the scabbing wounds for the first time since he had beaten that officer to death outside of the QZ. She felt him wince under her touch, confirming that the bones likely had fractured and had not been let to set and heal.

Y/n left the shower first, leaving him to finish washing himself while she dried herself off and searched through the boxes of clothing that Frank had set aside for when she and Tess needed a fresh set, settling on a mauve henley and a pair of dark grey cargo pants. She made sure to stuff an extra set into her pack before moving to shuffle through the men’s clothing in search of a new shirt for Joel.

The bathroom door opened behind her, Joel stepping out in the pair of jeans that he had refused to pair with, shaking the water out of his thick hair with a towel as he locked eyes with her.

“I, uh,” she tossed the forest green flannel across the room to him, “That looks like it should fit.”

“Thanks,” he grunted, tossing the towel onto the chair in the corner before slowly sliding the shirt over his shoulders and buttoning it in silence. “Look, I know–”

“Did you know?” She finally asked the burning question, scarcely sparing him a glance as she reached for the stick of deodorant on the dresser, “About Tess, I mean. Did you know that she was in love with you?”

He pursed his lips, hands moving to rest on his hips, “It wasn’t like that. Tess and I–before you came around…”

“You told me nothing was going on between you two.”

“I wasn’t lying. I–we put an end to things before you and I ever... She wanted more than I could give her.”

Y/n shook her head, “You couldn’t give it to her, but you could with me?”

“That’s different. You and I–we’re different.” He crossed the room, hands grasping her biceps tightly, “You know that.”

She chuckled, “But you knew. You knew the whole time why she hated me and you never even let me know?”

“That never woulda changed things, we both know that. Tess was a proud woman, and you findin’ out about her and I woulda only made it worse for you.”

“Joel, I was awful to her. I was so terrible to her sometimes, all because I had the one thing that she wanted.”

“She was worse to you. Shit, she treated you like a dog half the damn time. If you coulda heard half the shit she said about you when you weren’t there, you probably woulda clawed her eyes out.” He closed his eyes in frustration, “I’m sorry. Maybe I should have told you, but I was doin’ what I thought was best for the group. What’s done is done.”

She frowned, the urge to fight with him some more dying out as she realised that he was right–no amount of anger or fighting would change the way that things happened. Tess is dead, and she would stay dead no matter how much hell Y/n put Joel through over this.

She sighed, touching her forehead to his softly before pushing him away, “Fine. I just–I need some time.”

Ellie was poking around the house curiously when Y/n came down the stairs, leaning against the wall in faux-nonchalance at the sight of one of her guardians. Y/n shook her head at her, leaving her on her own once more as she settled on the front porch, taking a seat on the bench that she and Frank had chatted on for what seemed like forever on both of her visits. She sat in silence for a few moments, eyes scanning the overgrown town that had once seemed like a utopia, her peace broken as Ellie bounded down the front steps, footsteps heavier than what seemed possible for such a small girl. Joel appeared next to her, an expression of uncertainty on his features as she glanced up at him.

“You ready?” He asked for the second time that day, nodding towards the shed where the truck had been stored.

She nodded, following closely behind him towards the barn, chuckling to herself at the sight of the young girl as she buzzed around the truck excitedly. Y/n pushed her towards the front seat, allowing her to get the full experience of driving in a motorised vehicle for the very first time while she took the back. She was actually thankful for the extra space, aside from the mountain of supplies that Joel had stuffed into the back, giving her the chance to stretch her legs out a bit more.

“It’s like a spaceship!” Ellie murmured in awe as she pressed every button she could reach, despite Joel’s scolding. She then turned to digging through the dash, digging out an old cassette and shoving it into the radio.

“Ellie, don’t–” Joel paused at the sound of the music playing over the shitty sound system of Bill’s old truck, “Wait, no this is good. This is Linda Ronstadt. Do you know who Linda Ronstadt is?”

Y/n smiled to herself as she listened to their bickering, turning to stare out the back window as Joel drove out through the gate, watching through watery eyes as Lincoln faded into the background, Bill and Frank’s memory going with it.

And I think I’m gonna love you

For a long, long time.

tags (i just tagged anyone who asked for more parts on previous chapters-lmk if you wanna be untagged): @mischiefmanaged2 @a-colletion-of-cells @lizlil @linneasblog @kuchokitty @imnotyourbcbe @amberpanda99 @floralsightings @lockleywife

#reader insert #x reader #imagines #joel the last of us #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you

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glass--beach · 3 months

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my personal idea of how this album works as a metaphor is keyed on the idea of discovering oneself as transgendered increasingly in time. it's probably keyed through my own experience but all art is, basically. so,

starting with coelacanth, a song named after a creature widely known as a living fossil, ie focusing on the notion of an old animal. a dying animal. the song feels lethargic throughout and mellow. "the ghost rots away through the embrace of its own gaze" something already dead rots further, further, by the way of its self perception. coelacanth is about the body as a condemning routine.

motions is about the machine-like experience of trying to feel better and find direction while stuck in the prism of other people's gaze. "motions", as in trying to move, but without a particular direction.

slip under the door is about seeking escape. i know this feeling much too well... it's pure rage and anger at realizing of not being afforded any bodily autonomy.

guitar song is about writing about these things. struggling to delineate one's experiences while feeling a burning need to express them nonetheless.

rare animal is the key to the whole album posed as a question. it's at once self acceptance, seeing oneself as a rare beast, the idea of the romantic relationship here is just a metaphor about one's relationship with gender: the song asks, is it really ok to be so attached to something that gives you nothing but a meandering sense of emptiness? DB cooper's case here is being used as a way to talk about a "previous self" disappearing. it's trying to use the image of transness as deviant to the purpose of being admonishing, something dangerous and that the wider public is unable to understand, and then trying to answer to that by saying "ok. and? i know what happened to DB cooper. he got away with the ransom." which is to say that it's underlining that the presupposed 'deviancy' is fine. not being understood by everyone is fine; you can be a rare animal if you want to be.

cul-de-sac is self-reflection; it's about interpreting one's past and trying to understand why it took so long to figure out what was figured out in rare animal. and it turns out: it's the culture of normativity that the cul-de-sac, as the idyllic american suburb ideal represents as a whole. it's a symbol of the Nuclear Family. it's also interesting to not that a cul-de-sac is topographically a dead end. it doesn't change. it does not move.

whalefall is probably the one i'm less sure about how to fit in this whole interpretation of the album... but i feel like it's specifically about, in this key about the album as a whole Transgender Metaphor, a song about being denied the resources one might need for transitioning.

puppy is about the frustration of having to negotiate your existence through the terms of other people's sense of normalcy. you have to be a puppy to be accepted; you have to stay between the bars and service the people who almost mockingly and most definitely cruelly get to decide whereas your existence is ok or not.

the killer functions as a counterpart to puppy, where the killer is specifically about what happens when you don't comply by the rules of normalcy, and are treated like an animal to be hunted. so in a way it's specifically about the idea of how society operates on this fucked up notion of policing as a necessary corrective element within it.

the CIA then is about the way us trans people have to deal with our intimacy and privacy is seen as non-existent for the sake of someone's "innocent" curiosity and desire to objectify an entire person.

200 follows the CIA but on a positive note. it's about finding comfort and privacy through someone else, be it a specific individual or through community. 'autocannibal' i think might be a reference to conflicted feelings regarding finding a venue for sexuality that involves self-acceptance of one's body or somesuch? like it reminds me when i was really early on in my own journey as a trans person i was afraid of finding other people with my kind of body attractive and of being a chaser as a trans person.

commatose is what made me realize about this whole key of understanding the album. commatose is a play on comatose and comma as a feeling of lethargy and separation, but i think specifically the sense of separation is something deeply desired. the perspective the song has is specifically about feeling lethargic and needing something new: desiring a plastic death. plastic death is underlined as being specifically about plasticity, the ability for something to change and adapt, and death. which to me says that this album was about one thing: death as a means to change. the caterpillar dies, the butterfly lives.

abyss angel is about coming out. it's about being treated with supposed sympathy and empathy by someone who also makes no effort to actually understand you. it's also about understanding how it might be strange to see someone change so radically, and knowing that it doesn't excuse being mistreated because of it. it's also about finding repose in the abyss, being ok with changing, being something different from what you were before.

ok that was much longer than i expected. i hope it's not too weird seeing this huge ask in your inbox! i'm just sort of sending this as a kind of message in a bottle to show you my interpretation of your text. regardless of whether it's correct or not (i don't think such a thing exists in art) i hope you get something about reading this, whatever it is. thank you for making this album!

wow this is a really cool interpretation! i agree there is not a “correct” one and it’s been very interesting to see what others gather from it. i actually used to love to try to create narratives out of albums - i have a theory now that many well sequenced albums unintentionally recreate the monomyth & ours is intentionally the monomyth… this is what james joyce does to the brain… i think that this sort of idea of a journey into the unknown (in this case, an internal rather than external unknown) followed the reconciliation of two worlds does speak to a kind of transgender experience. “abyss angel” is this reconciliation of two contradictory realities, an expression of love & hate at once “i want to hurt you so bad” - i think that that does speak to the feeling of coming out. at least in my experience. i love what you’ve found in the music here and while it does speak much to what we had intended i love how the narrative being conveyed can vary to much person to person but everybody seems to get the emotional story the same. thank you for letting me be weird and pretentious about this.

#asks

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simulation-machine · 2 months

Text

SIMS RELATED PROJECTS/UPDATES

My spring break is coming up in a week and holy crap do I have plans on plans on plans, especially since my summer is gonna be full of school + internship + HOPEFULLY friggin' graduating with a BA in Psychology so that I can start applying to grad schools.

Read more iffin' you'd like! It's long! Here's a picture of my golden retriever napping on her brother's food bowl to entice/entertain you:

god she is so precious i would literally kill for her

GOAL 1: MASTER GSHADE/ReSHADE

I know that some people are sticklers for this but my thing is that I had no gee-dee clue what I was doing with ReShade, whereas Gshade just kinda clicked and worked for me? That said I have a bunch of resources for learning ReShade so I might end up moving back to it at some point.

My main issue is figuring out the order of all the different effects. It obviously matters, I'm sure people smarter than me have tried to use presets only to be like "why tf does this look absolutely nothing like the baller screenshots this one cool Simblr has?" Annnd it turns out it's order + remembering to turn off certain graphic settings. Also photoshop, but that's gonna take a lot longer for me to figure out lol.

Like I'd been struggling to figure out why @gunthermunch's gorgeous Lithium preset wasn't looking as sexy as it did before annnnd it's because I forgot to turn Edge Smoothing off when switching to it. Jesus wept at how dippy I am sometimes.

Eventually, what I would like to do is maybe make my own preset at some point? I would be kind enough to show the effect order too if I did so. But this requires so, so much more shader knowledge than I currently have.

FUN FACT: My first ever degree was in art, I even went to a very fancy and private art school (School of the Art Institute of Chicago if you're curious)- I dropped out after one semester because uhhh that shit is expensive. Ended up finishing my degree at a much cheaper location in MN. That said, my art was 100% analog and 2D, and it turns out it did not translate super well into trying my hand at graphic art.

It's funny because I've been gifted really neat stuff for graphic art (like a really nice Wacom tablet and Adobe subscriptions), like people just expected my mixed-media ass would know what to do with it. NOPE! But yeah, Sims is sort of my excuse to try my hand at this stuff again, especially since I have a bit more energy now that my soul is not regularly being drained out of my body by customer service and tech support jobs.

GOAL 2: GET CRACKIN' ON ANOTHER DOOR

This one is hard because I am only on Gen 2 of the Orsons and it's sort of hard to justify starting up another story while that one is less than 1/5 of the way done.

THAT SAID, I don't plan on posting Another Door until I have a decent chunk of it done. Since it's not a casual gameplay story nor a legacy challenge, I plan on editing the bajeez out of the screenshots for it, really honing in on the aesthetic. I want it to look and feel very different from my random legacy challenge.

Fortunately, this story has been fucking up my sleep schedule for *months* now and I have a lot of the writing for it done. The hard part is translating that into the Sims, making sure I get the right poses and stuff, maybe even learning how to make some super easy CC (like, posters and stuff), and stuff related to GOAL 1 above.

What I'm saying is that it's going to take a bit. But I'm super serious about sharing it because it's my obsession and honestly the first time a story of my own design has possessed me in literal years.

Also, I want to make sure I have a significant backlog of the Orsons before I start seriously simming for it, because I don't want to screw over my favorite little pixel babies. This legacy challenge is going to be the one, I have done so much to keep my save files to keep it safe from harm (ask me how many backups I have of the save files. JK don't, the number is frankly silly).

GOAL 3: START YET ANOTHER MASSIVE CC PURGE

Y'all, my CC folder for this game is honestly an embarrassment. I go so hard on CC shopping because this community is stupid-talented and I like giving my pixel babies nice things and cool looks. When I'm bored and not quite in the mood for gameplay, I just like making neat-looking sims that I do absolutely nothing with because I love fucking around in CAS.

I have built my own PCs since I was 17 years old, and when I first built COMPUTERMACHINE (current rig) back in the autumn of 2018, it was with the goal that it would run Sims 4 flawlessly no matter what I did to it. It's got ridiculous amounts of RAM, I religiously update parts for it. And to be fair, even with the current 6,907,907,890 TB of CC I have atm it runs better than Sims 3 ever had with a measly 50 GB of CC.

But for me, it comes down to finding all the stuff I wanna use. Making myself get rid of the stuff I don't wanna use. Straight up yeeting the CC that I thought was going to look incredible that uh, didn't deliver.

I do CAS CC purges about once a year but have literally never done it for Build & Buy stuff, because OMG some of this shit I've had since 2014. Like when Sims 4 first came out. YIKES. My CAS CC obsession is notable but it's honestly nothing compared to my Build & Buy. Even before For Rent made building lots slow af, my PC was starting to take a solid minute to switch to different buy categories.

It would take a long af time so I want to make sure I have a bunch of content in the queue before I do it. It's gonna be a whole ass thing and be so, so boring to do. So I'm putting it off for when I have a ton of time to do it. Like, oh, my entire Spring Break?

GOAL 4: MAKE A FRIGGIN' RESOURCES LIST ALREADY

This would obviously need to wait until after GOAL 3 is completed, but I wanna make sure the awesome creators whose stuff I use get credit, and that people know where they can grab neat stuff. It would include not only CC but mods, Gshade/ReShade presets, and maybe even lots and sims I've downloaded from the gallery?

(Since I am super anti-paywall and very unapologetic and rude about it, I will also share where one could perhaps get some of these CCs without paying some dip a Trenta Starbucks Unicorn Frappucino amount of $$$)

It's ambitious as hell because *gestures vaguely at GOAL 3* but it would make things like doing WCIF asks and lookbooks so much easier.

Somewhat relatedly, I wanna make a navigation post, especially once Another Door starts getting posted. That story is gonna be a bit huge with multiple arcs that take place over the course of like, 14 years. Plus once the Orsons get to the 4th+ generation, it would be easier to track things down.

IN CONCLUSION...

I have been having so much fun sharing my silly little Sim adventures on Tumblr, so much more than I ever thought I would! You all have been so great to me, and all of this stuff is sort of a way for me to repay that. Ever since I stopped being able to be artistically creative ever since a really nasty depressive spell in 2017, Sims has been my #1 artistic outlet. And having people who are even somewhat entertained by my pixels is incredibly motivating.

Basically, if you read all of this, DAMN would you have been a rad livejournal follower of mine circa 2007. On the seriousness, however, thank you all so much for being rad and encouraging and sweet. I promise to do you all, if not proud, then at the very least not disappointed.

Time to hit the bong and take some pictures of Lou and Tatertot before taking my IRL doggos on a walk~

#sort of an announcement #future plans #sims 4 gameplay #tales from the irl #i love the sims community so much #promises i plan to deliver on (eventually)#playing with photoshop again #talking 'bout doing another cc purge again #posts so long you'll unfollow me (i will not blame you)#tl;dr: folks i'm gonna be doing some stuff #anyways... *bong rips*

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lavendertales · 1 year

Text

Guilty pleasures: Chapter 6

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: when you confess your secret to Joel, he enlists your help so he can come clean to Ellie as well. you and Ellie find yourselves bonding over the same life story.

word count: 5.7k

warnings: brief mentions of needles & suicide.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!!!

gif: @pajamasecrets

series masterlist | AO3

“The hell do you mean you’re immune too?”

Joel’s voice echoes in the bedroom, husky and demanding, the complete opposite of what it was a couple of hours ago. The question he poses is to be expected, yet it remains riddled with fear and pain. Pain of knowing he had opened up to someone, allowed another person to know him intimately and emotionally, and it might’ve all been nothing but a ruse.

“Why the hell would you tell me this now?” Joel continues, sitting on the far end of the bedroom, staring you down.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while, but I preferred it if you were in a good mood,” you reply cautiously and sincerely. “And this was the only time I ever saw you in a somewhat good mood.”

Joel chuckles, the sound mocking and doing nothing in hiding the hurt. “Well that’s gone now.”

“Please listen to me. Please, Joel.”

He gathers enough strength to look at you, feeling a little foolish as he stands there, half dressed, and arms crossed at his chest. He waits for your explanation though, because deep down something tells him you wouldn’t go through all of this just to get to Ellie. And even if you did have a devious scheme planned, what could you possibly want from her? Would you reveal her secret to the whole town? Would you be willing to expose Ellie and let her be devoured by people who are angry at the world and eager to get revenge however they can?

“I figured it out a few weeks ago,” you begin, sitting on the edge of the bed. “No one wears long sleeves in summer unless they’re hiding something on their skin. That was my first clue. Then all of Ellie’s questions about my tattoos, saying she wants to get one that’s big enough to cover up scars… second clue. And all I knew about your relationship with her is that you saved her from the Fireflies. Which made me think, why did the Fireflies want her so badly? I answered the question with my own experience. I know why I was wanted by the Fireflies.”

Joel watches you in silence, listening to every word. He’s rummaging through your speech, trying to decide if it’s worth believing or not.

“Think about it,” you continue. “How else would I figure out about Ellie’s immunity, all on my own, unless I’d have the same story? Normal people see a kid wearing long sleeves in hundred something degree weather, they’re confused but they don’t ask questions. They don’t care.”

“And you do?”

You nod. Joel has to admit that so far, you are making perfect sense. Unless he or Tommy would’ve told you directly about Ellie, there is no other way you would’ve found out.

“Show it to me,” he growls.

You instantly know what he’s talking about; you stand up, revealing your left wrist, inked with a beautiful flower and leaves. In the dim light, Joel struggles to see it properly, so he grabs hold of your wrist and takes it closer to his face for inspection. He drags two fingers across the skin, feeling the indents and irregularities beneath his touch. He pulls back a little, stunned. In a way, you are complementary version of Ellie, and that just messes with his head and his heart just a bit too much.

Suddenly he recalls the conversation he’s had with Ellie just after he’d killed Marlene and the rest of the Fireflies in that goddamn hospital. He remembers telling her that there were other immune people out there. At the time, he knew it was a lie. A white little lie he told Ellie because he cared so damn much about her, he couldn’t stand to lose another kid.

But with this revelation, things could be different. Joel wouldn’t have to feel so guilty about lying to Ellie to protect and keep her safe, and the things he’s told her could be real. They are real.

“I need to know what happened,” is all he can grunt at you.

You nod understandingly, taking a deep breath in.

“This bite is six years old. I was with my sister and my nephew, and… we got bit. We had a pact, my family and I. That if we were ever bit, we’d kill each other in mercy. We didn’t want to turn. So I uh… it was just me after a while.”

You swallow harshly, unable to actually describe what had happened. Joel may feel confused and a little angry right now, but he’s not far from understanding. And he doesn’t force you to say it out loud.

He knows the pain all too well.

“I was ready to kill myself too,” you go on. “Especially after what I’d done. When Marlene found me, it was on the dawn of the third day after I’ve been bitten. I should’ve lost my mind already by that point. Not that I wasn’t, but… you know what I mean.”

Joel nods, remaining quiet.

“She asked me some questions, I answered her and then we came to a conclusion. There was something in my body that prevented me from turning. I didn’t quite get it. And I still don’t. But it makes me immune to the infection. And because of that, Marlene said they wanted to develop a vaccine. They said I was humanity’s salvation.”

There’s a manic, mocking sound that leaves your throat the moment you say that last part. Clearly you do not believe a word you’ve been told, and even Joel feels uneasy listening to your story unfold.

“That’s a huge purpose if there’s any. And after the horrors I lived, it gave me a reason to go on. I thought maybe there was a reason for everything after all. So I left with Marlene and the Fireflies to a hospital in Salt City Lake, and they said they were gonna perform surgery to extract my blood or something like that. I said okay, do what you have to do. Except I woke up during the surgery.”

Joel’s heart stills, his forehead creased under a frown’s weight.

“I woke up, groggy and confused, to hear the doctor and the assistant snap at each other, talking about cutting my brain open and that I was definitely going to die if they did that. If they couldn’t even put me properly to sleep, there was no way in hell I would’ve let them cut into my brain. Long story short, it turns out I was a trial run. Nothing but an experiment to them. They had no idea how to actually make a vaccine out of the mass that’s in my head. It’s not a tumor, it’s just… a mass. Something that makes me immune to the infection. I’m guessing Ellie’s the same.”

Joel realizes you’re actually asking him, waiting for a response. “Yeah,” he replies. “Yeah, they said it’s… a mass in the brain. She would’ve died if I would’ve let them…”

He gulps, and it makes you move closer to him again. He lets you, he needs your comforting presence as he thinks back to one of the worst and best days of his life.

You take his hand into yours, running your thumb over it, and Joel seems to calm down. “I care about Ellie, a lot,” you tell him, and he feels your words to be sincere. “I’d never expose this secret to anyone. Especially because it’s bullshit.”

Joel wants to ask more questions, but he finds himself speechless. He stares at you inquisitorially, and you pick up the queue.

“There is no cure, Joel,” you confirm his fears and theories. “They can’t make a vaccine, not with what we got available in terms of medical equipment and stuff. Maybe someday, I don’t know, but not in our lifetime. The cordyceps infection is deadly. There’s nothing to be done.”

“What’s the point then? Of this immunity, of you and Ellie being this way while others…”

You take both his hands into yours, staring lovingly at him. “I don’t know. I was bit six years ago, and I’m still waiting to turn into the monster I think I am deep down. I don’t know if this is… a punishment or a blessing or what. Maybe it’s an insurance of some sort. That Ellie and I get to live a normal life with the people we love.”

There’s silence in between you two as the words you’ve nearly whispered are being delved inside Joel’s mind. Something about that last word, love, he finds it soothing and yet, beyond triggering. He hadn’t allowed himself to get close to anyone. Tess was the only one he felt a certain connection with since the outbreak happened, and sometimes he regretted not being more upfront and open with her. He did know Tess loved him in ways even she didn’t express. And he supposed he loved her, too.

But this, now, with Ellie and all the feelings that are blossoming for you, almost brutally fast, it’s scarier than anything he’s felt in the past decades. The two of you may be immune to the infection, but not to other terrors. It simultaneously breaks Joel and fills him with joy to know that there’s at least two people in his life that care about him.

“Joel,” you call out to him. “I’m sorry I sprung this on you after… well. I don’t wanna hurt you or Ellie. I’d never—I have pain too.”

Your eyes fill with tears and your voice breaks as you struggle to let out those words, and Joel finds himself physically unable to keep his distance. He looks at you apologetically, wrapping his arms around you in the next moment.

“I lied to her,” he coos over your shoulder. “I told her there were other immune people to-to protect her. To save her. I couldn’t let her go. I couldn’t… she would’ve died.”

You break the embrace so you can look at him. When your eyes search his face, you find it filled with regret and pain. You cup his cheeks, softly grazing your thumb against his stubbly cheek.

“I didn’t know at the time if there were any more immune folks,” he goes on as if he’s excusing himself to you too. “I just said it so she’d think—“

“Joel… I was on that operating table, alone, having consented to something that was way beyond my understanding. I was lied to and manipulated. If I wouldn’t have woken up… my point is, there was no one there for me. I was alone. And I wish… someone would’ve done for me what you did for Ellie. You saved her life.”

“I took away her choice.”

You shake your head. “The Fireflies took her choice. She did what she thought was best, but—“

“She wanted to die on that table! She was gonna sacrifice herself for—for humanity and I—“

“Humanity is fucked up and doomed anyway. She would’ve died for nothing. You did the right thing.”

It doesn’t feel that way for Joel, though; most days he can put his actions behind him and even pretend like he forgot the things he’s done for that girl, but tonight, with you and with everything that’s happened, guilt swallows him whole.

“I gotta tell her,” Joel mumbles. “I gotta tell her—everything.”

You don’t reply. You feel like your part in this story is mostly over. What you can only wish for is some peace of mind.

“I need you to—to help me tell her,” he then turns to you with big, soft eyes.

“What—“

“Tell her your story. Show her your bite. If she’s gonna hate me… she needs to have someone who cares about her. Please.”

It’s that last please that breaks you. You find yourself in the impossibility of refusing or even considering to bring up an excuse. The sight of the tormented man before you is more than enough to have you wishing you can help.

“Okay,” you nod. “We’ll tell her together.”

“Just need to… find the right time.”

OCTOBER

While you didn’t pressure Joel into confessing to Ellie, you also couldn’t stand what all that guilt was doing to him. Within the following two weeks, Joel resorted to either avoiding Ellie altogether or babbling about nonsensical things that left her more confused rather than curious. You began to feel like you were in the middle more often than not, and you weren’t really a fan of that. On one side you were trying to persuade Joel to just pick a moment to be honest with Ellie, and on the other side you were trying to explain to Ellie that no, Joel was not on the verge of a stroke or anything similar and that he was just a bit tired.

As were you.

All that overthinking and with Joel being racked with guilt, the intimacy between you and Joel thinned. There were brief moments of comfort when you intertwined his fingers with his or you held him, stroking his back, but nothing else. You knew that he dreaded the conversation with Ellie and that once he’d finally have it, things could end badly and he could toss you aside as well, but until then, you planned to remain by his side, unbent and stoic.

One chilly October afternoon, Joel approached you rather flustered, cautiously looking around before addressing you in a low register, “I’m tellin’ her. Now.”

Surprised, you can only look at him and nod. You’re even more surprised when Joel reaches—albeit his hesitation—to grab hold of your hand as you walk down the street. It’s the first time anyone’s ever seen the two of you so close, and of course it raises questions and eyebrows, but neither cares. This isn’t about you two, not now.

Ellie’s with a few of her friends, laughing wholeheartedly. Joel’s heart sinks as he approaches, but knowing that you’re right there with him does soothe some of his nerves.

“Ellie?” he calls out to her, and she instantly looks at him. “Can you come over here for a second?”

“Be right back, guys. What’s up?”

Joel opens his mouth to begin his speech, and that’s when Ellie notices his hand holding yours. She does nothing to mask her enthusiasm.

“Would you look at that!” she smiles, and he instantly pulls away. “You guys finally shacked up.”

“I wouldn’t say—“you start, flustered.

“That’s not what—“

“Oh, come on. I know old people still do it. It’s fine.”

“Who you callin’ old?”

Ellie falters, and it almost makes you laugh. “Joel,” she then replies.

He lets that slide momentarily. Other things, far more important, preoccupy him.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

“We need to talk to you,” you say.

“Uh oh. Am I in trouble?”

This time you do smile, and Joel is thankful that you took the reins first. “No, nothing like that. We just wanna talk. Come on.”

Joel’s heart nearly bursts out of his chest. He’s riddled with guilt and nervousness, but seeing you and Ellie march side by side brings a bit of comfort to him. He knows in this moment that, regardless of the conversation’s outcome, Ellie could at least rely on you, Tommy and Maria.

The three of you settle on your porch, with you and Joel exchanging a few glares. He finally decides to step up.

“So what’s this about?” Ellie asks.

“I know you’ve asked some questions about… the Fireflies and your immunity over the last couple of years,” Joel starts with a massive knot in his throat.

“Yeah, when we left the Firefly hospital, you said there were dozens of people like me.”

Joel remains silent for a moment, choosing his following words very carefully.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s what they told me.”

Ellie’s face drops in the slightest, and so does Joel’s. “I’ve never met another immune person before. Have you?”

Joel mumbles something, this being your cue to step in. You clear your throat once, gaining Ellie’s attention.

“He has,” you say. “And so have you.”

But there’s no relief on Ellie’s face. There’s just more confusion as she stares at you, and then at Joel. She doesn’t look like she trusts the most obvious answer, and part of you can’t help but feel for her.

“We traveled across the entire country to bring me to the Fireflies,” Ellie tells Joel. “I had so many questions for them. Why did you pull me out of there while I was still unconscious?”

“Ellie—“you try, but she raises a hand to shush you.

“Because I let them run their tests, and when I saw that they were useless, I got us out of there—“

“How do you know they were useless? Maybe if you just would’ve given them more time, they could’ve figured something out—“

“Ellie, listen—“

“Ellie!”

Joel’s voice is decisive, strong and authoritative. He inches closer to Ellie, face roughened by the guilt that’s been eating him alive, and groans slowly, “There was no cure. There’s nothing that could’ve helped these people or anybody else.”

He pauses, his eyes softening as he looks at her in awe. “I know you wish things were different—I wish things were different. But they ain’t.”

“Then why is she here?”

Both of them turn to glare at you, and you gulp, stepping forward.

“You’re a smart kid,” you tell her. “Very smart. I’m sure you at least have an idea.”

Ellie bites the inside of her cheeks, throwing you a rather ugly glare, but you don’t mind it. It is to be expected; meanwhile, Joel watches you both breathless, feeling very much on the edge of sanity, waiting for the last shoe to drop.

“Swear to God Joel, if you lie to me one more time… I’m gone,” Ellie threatens, still looking at you. “You will never see me again. That’s what you do. You lie.”

“Stop,” you tell her.

“Just tell me then! Tell me why we’ve never met another immune person, why you took me in despite everything and why you pulled me out of—“

“There was no cure!” Joel shouts. “There was no cure then, there is no cure now. They were gonna cut you open and kill ya. Making a vaccine… would’ve killed you. So I stopped them.”

Ellie stares into the ground, trying to process the situation, raw and sensitive as it is. She remains speechless for a while, and so do you and Joel as you watch her reactions closely. Then she breaks into a sob, a concoction of sadness and anger, and she falls down to one of the chairs. Joel reaches to comfort her, but Ellie pulls back immediately, snapping.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” she yells. “You had—no right! I was supposed to die on that table! Just because you lost your daughter doesn’t mean—“

“Ellie, stop,” you nearly groan, realizing that even in anger she is touching on a subject that is very much still painful.

“Fuck you!” she shouts at Joel. “We are done! We are so fucking done—“

“Ellie, he didn’t lie to you! I’m immune too, okay?! Look!”

You roll up your sleeves and show her the tattoo she once admired, now more visible in the porch’s light. She takes your arms, studies it up close and runs a finger across your skin, finally feeling and seeing the mark. It’s distinguishable, much too familiar to be confused.

And it melts all of her anger at once.

“This isn’t new,” she remarks.

“It’s six years old, so… no.”

There are about a million questions inside Ellie’s head, questions which you anticipated and knew you’d have to answer.

“So… are there dozens of other immune people?”

“That I don’t know. There could be. What I do know for a fact is that right now, there are two immune people.”

“Even the Fireflies weren’t sure if there was another one.”

“Yeah well. The Fireflies are full of crap.”

“I wanna know exactly what happened.”

Joel can barely speak when Ellie looks at him, his throat scratchy and dry. “I told you—“

“Not from you. Her. I wanna hear it from her. The full story. No bullshit.”

You turn towards Joel, trying your hardest not to be affected by his hurt expression. “Give us a few minutes, okay?” you coo at him, stroking his arm. “I got this.”

Joel doesn’t even nod; he leaves you alone with Ellie, something which he wouldn’t have done in a million years had this situation transpired last year. But now, he knows there’s no one better suited to answer Ellie’s questions or to ease her mind.

There’s no one he trusts more than you at this point.

“Let’s go inside,” you say, and Ellie follows you suit.

There is something peculiar about the connection Ellie feels to you. During the past year, she’s got to know you as a brilliant fighter, a badass shooter and an inspiring woman; all reasons for her to follow you and trust you. Right now, she still trusts you. She trusts that you’ll tell her the truth, impart some wisdom and share your story in the hopes of making her feel less lonely.

It is lonely being a young girl with such an unfair, huge advantage in this cruel world.

“Okay,” you huff, gathering your thoughts.

“The whole story,” Ellie reminds you. “No bullshit.”

“No bullshit.”

You inhale sharply, then slowly exhale.

“When the outbreak happened, over twenty years ago, I was with my parents and my little sister, Maya. She was twelve, I was seventeen. We ran and we hid and it worked, for about a year. We ran out of luck when our parents got infected. I knew they were bit, I saw them. They hid it from Maya, though. She was still very young so we all wanted to protect her. They put us to bed, said goodnight… and they shot themselves. I heard the gunshots, and I cried myself to sleep. When I found them the next morning, I had to give them a better ending. For my sister’s sake. I hid their bodies in the basement of the house we were staying in, and I told her they went away to look for a cure, something that would help us. Then it was just us two, and… it was good for a while. Suddenly I was responsible for another human life, other than mine, and it was so much to take in. But I did it. I kept us safe, and we managed to live.

“We befriended a nice guy and his sister along the way, Jeremy and Leah. We met them in Seattle, where we stayed till… a few years ago. Little by little, Maya and Jeremy got close and they fell in love… and then Maya got pregnant. She was early twenties then. It was a big risk and it was shocking but… it was also a happy time for the four of us. It felt like we were a little family. Like maybe we could do this forever, take care of each other. We made a pact that if anything were to happen to any of us, infection-wise, we’d spare each other and pull the trigger.”

“Like your parents did.”

“Like my parents did. Neither one of us wanted to turn into one of those things.”

You pause, feeling a wave of sadness washing you at its cold shore. “Did you know that the people are actually still inside? The cordyceps takes over and controls the body, but the person is still inside. You are painfully aware of the things you do, just… completely unable to do anything. Trapped inside your own body, deforming over time.”

Ellie gulps, distraught by the information. She briefly recalls Sam and his question, his hope that he might still be himself even after the infection, and her heart sinks.

“Six years ago, over six years ago, Jeremy and Leah were trying to smuggle more food supplies to the place where we lived. By that point, Jeremy and Maya’s son, Elliott, was four years old. Except Jeremy and Leah got caught in a crossfire. FEDRA shot ‘em. They thought they were infected. Didn’t even hesitate. I was with them when it happened. I had to tell Maya when I got back. She was… broken. I had to take Elliott outside, far away from the house, because she was screaming and crying so loudly. We had to change base shortly afterwards because the place was crawling with FEDRA and infected and shit. We started walking aimlessly, uprooting ourselves once again, and then… we got bit, all three of us.”

You make another pause, feeling your eyes teary as they reminisce the horrifying images that follow you everywhere you go.

“Their screams haunt me to this day,” you continue, hollow. “Even in my sleep, I—I hear them. I hear them begging me to help them, to save them… and I can’t. I fail them and I lose them even in my sleep.”

Tears rolls down your cheeks, but Ellie doesn’t interrupt. She is too immersed in your heartbreaking story to do so.

“Maya screamed so much that night,” you go on. “She was in so much pain, and there was… nothing that I could do. It should’ve been my duty as the older sister to do something, and there I was, powerless. She screamed at me to kill her first because she didn’t want to watch her son go first. So I took Elliott to another room, asked him to cover his ears… and I shot her. I shot my baby sister. And then I went to the other room, I held Elliott in my arms… and I shot him too.”

“Holy shit,” Ellie murmurs as it finally dawns on her. “That’s why you hate handguns.”

You nod. “Every time I hold one, I—I’m right back there, and my whole body goes cold, numb, my hand shakes… I tried many times, but…”

You take a deep breath in, forcing yourself to go on with the story.

“I was supposed to kill myself then. The last one standing. I was gonna pull the trigger. But I was so upset, so—devastated, I couldn’t stop crying. So I cried and screamed next to their bodies. I cried myself to sleep. As I fell asleep I thought, ‘you know what? I’ll wait it out. I deserve to turn into the monster that I am on the inside’. So I waited. I waited to lose my mind. I did, don’t me wrong, just… not in the way I hoped. You can imagine my disappointment when I woke up the next morning, perfectly sane and conscious, having killed my baby sister and my nephew.”

Ellie only nods, feeling her own eyes a little teary.

“The pain was… indescribable. It hurt so much that I… didn’t even feel it, if it makes sense. I felt empty, yet in constant pain. I didn’t understand why I didn’t turn. I should’ve turned, the cordyceps should’ve taken over by then. But it didn’t. And then goddamn Fireflies swarm the place and took me in. I didn’t know back then. I thought they wanted to make me one of them.”

“Sounds about right.”

“Marlene was the one who found me. She kept me mostly sedated for a few days because I just couldn’t cope with the pain I was feeling, the guilt over what I had done. I’m still waiting for my turn, almost seven years later. Every day I wake up to the faces of those I outlived, and every day I loathe myself for it. But Marlene knew how to talk, and the way she put it, I actually started to believe that my being bitten and not turning could mean something bigger. I figured it’s either some cruel joke played by a vengeful God that may or may not exist, or it could be a higher purpose. Marlene advised me to keep my immunity a secret, so I did. I never told another soul. You and Joel are the first and only ones who know.”

Ellie frowns. “Not even Tommy or Maria?”

“Just you and Joel. And Marlene, but… I figure this ship has sailed.”

You’ve heard of Marlene’s passing from Tommy. Matter of fact, you heard of a bunch of Fireflies being killed in cold blood by a crazy man.

A crazy, complex man you fear you may fall for, named Joel Miller.

“What about the vaccine?” Ellie asks.

“Marlene told me they’d be able to make a cure if I’d help out. That was my chance to straighten things out, you know? Save humanity after murdering my family. It was my shot at redemption. So I agreed. I went with them to a hospital in Salt Lake City and like you, I had so many questions for them. How the hell was this possible? Why didn’t I turn? Does this mean that my blood is the cure? Is there something in my blood? You know what I got told? ‘Thank you for your service’. Like I was some fucking soldier about to be sent off to its most gruesome death without any insight into the real situation.

“I remember two nurses holding me down and forcing me onto the table to get the anesthesia because I started to have doubts about the whole thing. It didn’t feel as right or redeemable as I would’ve thought. I woke up after a while, thinking the operation was done. I was groggy from the anesthesia, but I heard them talking, the doctor and the nurses. I was a trial run. Doctor said he had no clue how to use the mass in my brain to create a vaccine. And that even if they did, there’s no way to distribute it across the country or the world. So basically it would’ve gone to the Fireflies exclusively, even if he were to create a vaccine. He was way over his head. They were just gonna kill me without my consent, without informing me of the situation. They were desperate. And they would’ve done the same thing to you.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Didn’t you hear anything from what I just said? Those morons had no idea how to make a cure! They were going in blindly, and they barely had the equipment for it! There is no cure, Ellie! This infection is deadly, end of story. For fuck’s sake, they couldn’t even put me down properly! How were they gonna save humanity if they couldn’t even put me to sleep? This kind of infections… there is no medicine for it. There is no cure. You would’ve died for nothing.”

“But there’s two of us now, which means there could be more, right? There could be more, and it has to mean something that two people are immune.”

“Not everything has a deeper meaning, Ellie. One day maybe it will mean something, but today, right now, you’re alive. You’re alive and you get to live a somewhat normal life with friends and laughter and food… all because that man loves you so much, he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you alone on that operating table, to die alone, thinking you were doing the right thing. I wish someone would’ve done that for me. I wish… I wish I meant enough for someone to do that for me. All I had was anger and pain and a scalpel to run away from them.”

You search Ellie’s face, and you see understanding in her eyes. You see kindness and softness, and you’re relieved to know it’s not totally lost.

“He’s lost one daughter before,” you murmur. “It broke him. I’m willing to bet he’d massacre entire cities before he’d lose another one. Joel does love you, Ellie. So much, he—he can’t even say it.”

Ellie huffs, seemingly torn. “Not a man of many words, Joel Miller.”

You chuckle slightly. “Indeed not. But he does care for you like a daughter. Considering his past… I’d say you’re his purpose. And you were wrong.”

“About what?”

“About him. He did save the world. It’s just that… you’re his world.”

Ellie stares at you, still undecided on where she stands.

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for this,” she coos.

“I get it. You could try though. I know you care about him too.”

“He’s in love with you, you know?”

You frown at the sudden and unprompted words. “He’s not.”

“He is. He looks at you in a way… I looked at someone like that once. I’m sixteen, not an idiot. Or blind. He’s not good with words, but he—does care. And he shows it. He’ll probably show it more.”

You resist the urge to smile.

“Hey uh—whatever happened to those soldiers who killed Jeremy and Leah?”

“Why do you ask?”

“It feels like you’d want to—even the score.”

Now you smile, reminiscing of the one good part of your story. “I did even the score,” you reply. “And before you ask your next question, no, it doesn’t necessarily make you feel better about your loss. Maybe in the moment you think you’ve made justice and all is good in the world, but… if you kill a killer, does that mean there are less killers in the world or is the number the same?

“We all do shitty things to survive.”

Ellie gulps, thinking back to the worst thing she’s done so far. How she was cornered, held down, terrified to her bones of what was about to happen, and how she did what she had to.

“I didn’t do it to survive, Ellie. That one thing I did for my family. Out of anger. Because I could do it, and I wanted to. That’s what separates us from animals, monsters. The option to choose, to think, to feel.”

You put your hand on her shoulder, gently squeezing her. “Don’t stay angry forever. In the long run, it’s not worth it. Just remember, you matter enough to someone that they’d do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

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