#and talking to joel about it and mentioning that its nice that his emotions are just gone bcus now he isnt afraid of essentially dying

[arospecsyourblockdudes]

combine the headcanon that jimmy is a normal dude thats slowly getting turned into a toy bcus of joel w/the headcanon that only i possess of automaton jimmy and what do we get. an already inanimate robot who’s Alive Where It Matters slowly losing the bits of living he has while also having to deal with his more complex functions shutting down and watching himself become more of an object each day 

[notjustjavierpena]

Him

A/N: Part 3 of Mean!Joel coming straight to ya. This is a big mishmash of emotions, I’m sorry, but something has to lead to part 4.

Summary: You find a dress during a supplies run but Joel doesn’t give a shit about you looking nice for him.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), dub-con and mentions of non-con, dirty talk, painful and rough PIV sex, unprotected sex, creampie, choking, fingering, pussy slapping

Word count: 4.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48179338/chapters/121494847

Him

There’s the distinct smell of mold and old basement in the abandoned apartment complex. Joel has told you to stay close to him, but as soon as he tells you that the place is clear, you wander off and he grumbles something about it being your funeral. 

“Only what’s necessary,” he had said on the way up the stairs, still clutching onto his rifle as if something could come out of the shadows any second despite your thorough investigation of the place.

You go through each room of your selected condo, but there is nothing interesting to be found. There had been a convenience store last week which had been picked over except for a few toothbrushes. You had given the toothbrushes to a couple of the kids back at Jackson, but still been bummed that you have yet to find something that you can take home just for yourself. Last month, some of the other women had found a box of old 2000s clothes and you had been disappointed at not having been there with them as they chose whatever they wanted. You are still empty-handed. 

That is, until now. 

In the master bedroom, you go through the clothes that whoever used to live here has left behind. It isn’t a particularly thrilling closet, but you think it almost feels like shopping as you push the hangers to the side along the metal bar one by one. Everything has been eaten by moths.

“Find anything?” Joel pops his head through the door, walks closer a second after to see what you are doing. He rolls his eyes, “Find anything of importance?”

You give him a pointed look, but he just returns it. 

“These are boring anyw—“ you stop at a garment that’s wrapped in a protective travel bag made of plastic. It makes you raise a brow, unzipping the front of the garment bag only to reveal a short, expensive-looking cocktail dress. You pull it off its hanger and hold it up in front of you, “I think this is my size.”

“Yippee,” he deadpans, but you see him glancing down at the garment and you hope that he is imagining you in it, “I said only useful things.” 

“You actually said necessary,” you remind him and he scoffs, shifts, and turns away from you. Anyone who witnesses your interaction will never guess that you are sleeping together, but you like the fact that you despise him outside of the bedroom. It makes it even more fun and satisfying when he finally gives in to come fuck you. 

You feel the satin fabric between your fingers. It’s in good condition, having been saved from moths by being packed away in a plastic garment bag. It’s a classic little black dress where the hem stops just above the knees and the slit in the side leaves just enough for the imagination. You hook your fingers into the spaghetti straps and watch the way the fabric falls around the chest area. It’s very simple and elegant, and nothing like anything you’ve ever owned, “I like it. I’m taking it with me.” 

“Whatever,” Joel says after a sigh.

You stuff the dress into your bag, determined to restore it to its former glory. 

*

Joel never tells you when he will stop by and you don’t ask in case it will come off as begging for his attention. Despite this, you have a hunch of his intention to have his way with you whenever he starts acting differently around you; looks at you whenever he thinks you aren’t paying attention to him, ravishing you with his eyes that get just a little bit darker than when he normally glances your way. 

Additionally, he gets more short-tempered with your never-ending snark, and you swear that today you could see his hand twitch by his side as if he was desperate to yank you away from the rest, itching to grab whatever he could in that moment even if it meant pulling you back to your place by your hair. It had really set your next encounter in stone when you’d called him a caveman without the others hearing. The rest of the day had been him fidgeting like crazy.

You know that he doesn’t realize these tells, because he’d never give you the satisfaction of having him figured out, but oh how you wish that his stupid, overly aggressive behavior is deliberate and all for you. 

You look at yourself in the bedroom mirror after sliding on the dress, knowing you’ll see him soon because he is a man of habit and you’re his vice. 

It is rare that you see yourself dressed up like this, but the butterflies that you feel in your stomach as you gaze at your reflection make you certain that Joel will like this in just the right way.

At that, the butterflies move down between your legs where you are not wearing anything to cover you. You dip your hand between your thighs, pushing the fabric inwards, and it over your mound. You try to tell yourself that you’ve skipped the underwear because it would be visible underneath the fabric of the dress, but you know the real reason is him. You hate yourself for hating him to the point where he floods your mind whenever he isn’t here. 

You want to pull the dress up over your hips, rub your clit that’s throbbing in anticipation, but instead, you just wait.

*

When your waiting comes to an end, you hear Joel violently open the front door downstairs, ripping at the handle and calling your name multiple times to which you do not respond. There’s always a game here; where it had started out being a real refusal of him, it has turned into something else. The moment he had made you come the first time, you knew there was no going back to what was before. Now, you enjoy the cat-and-mouse act where you want him to corner you. 

Joel looks tense and impatient when he steps into your bedroom, but he doesn’t say anything for you to read the tone of his voice. He is aggressively shrugging off his jacket, biting into a leather glove’s fingertip to pull it off his hand before moving to the other and doing the same. 

The gloves suggest that he has worked late today and not showered as you have, that he has taken his frustrations towards you out on hard labor but to no avail; he has still walked in here, too turned on to pass your house on his way home. 

His outerwear ends up on the floor beside him and then he stalks after you. He is hard in his jeans, his eyes cold and black with desire, and for some reason, you find yourself backing away just because he still hasn’t opened his mouth.

“Get the fuck back here,” he seethes. He grabs your arm and pulls, too fast for you as you try to take another step away, “Why didn’t you come when I called ya?”

“Sorry, I-I…”

“You come when I call. Full stop,” he traps you against your bedroom wall and doesn’t acknowledge the dress whatsoever. The hand on your arm slides up until it rests at your throat, squeezing without doing too much damage to your windpipe whilst he examines your face. He needs you to talk, “Do you understand?”

His nostrils flare whilst you nod frantically. The grip on your throat has you lightheaded, but you think that you might want it like this, to be just on the edge of getting tunnel vision so you can see only him. He looks beautiful like this, you think, angry like a God, but your thoughts are interrupted and you moan as he shakes you a little.

“Words, use ‘em, you fuckin’ bimbo.”

“Yes, I understand,” you croak, but he mustn’t think that you give in so easily. There are a million snarky comments to select from in your head, but he doesn’t give you time to choose your favorite when he makes you cough as he lets go of your neck.

“You needa take this stupid fuckin’ dress off or I’ll rip it to pieces. You know I will,” he growls, and you bite your tongue to keep yourself from saying something to spite him. Something to hurt his huge masculine ego and compare him to a Neanderthal. So much for looking nice for his pleasure. 

Additionally, so much for scrubbing the fabric of the dress you had found in the abandoned condo until your hands were raw. In the end, it doesn’t surprise you that he doesn’t give a damn because he hadn’t even been enthusiastic when you had shown it to him during your supplies patrol together. You’d hoped that it had just been because he hadn’t seen you in it.

With a sour expression, you yank at the straps and Joel lets out a condescending huff of a laugh as he watches. You slide the straps off your shoulders and down your arms until you can pull at the top of the dress to guide it down your body. When it reaches the swell of your hips, you wiggle your ass until it pools at your feet. Joel goes quiet at the realization that you’ve gone commando.

“You were prepared, huh? Easy fuckin’ access. All I had to do was just pull it up over your ass, but ya wanted me to find out like this,” Joel tuts, immediately placing a foot between your feet. Gross, you think to yourself at hearing those words but you also realize, with the way that your walls flutter in a delicious clench of your cunt, that you like gross. Joel holds a hand out, and you get ready for the worst, but he simply cups your whole mound in his enormous hand, “Filthy girl, I fuck you that good? So good you wanna be ready for cock like that?” 

All confidence seeps out of you in an instant, because fuck, he is touching you and you almost forget how much it turns you into a little obedient dog. You gasp and find yourself pathetically nodding in an aroused state that has taken hold of you so quickly that you are feeling dizzy. You think, perhaps, that it has something to do with how it felt the last time the two of you were together. You don’t think you’ve ever come so many times in a row, kicking your legs, crying and screaming in pleasure as he reveled in your painful oversensitivity. He had promised that it would hurt, and it did, deliciously, for several days afterward. You miss being able to have a reminder of him with every step you take.

You realize now that the dress probably came off as a laughable attempt at making him have his wicked way with you once more instead of pleasing him.

Pleasing him. 

Pleasing. Him.

Fuck.

Two thick fingers press into you and the ability to elaborate on the thought of wanting to do something nice for him disappears. Instead, you keen loudly and throw yourself back into the wall with a thump. He sinks his digits knuckle-deep into your sex, and it hurts because he doesn’t give you time to adjust. 

You furrow your brows, looking down at where the heel of his hand is pushing into your clit. You take what you can get to soothe the stretch of your pussy, grinding your hips into his palm with a mewl. Your mouth hangs open in an o-shape and you’re already panting for him, desperate to come as he harshly takes his annoyance out on your g-spot. His fingers are warm inside of you from the gloves despite how he has just come from the outside, and they drag deliciously outwards along your walls again and again. 

It makes you come with a soft cry not long after. He settles his fingers inside of your cunt as you clamp down on them, a gush of your arousal dripping down into his palm as you shake and try to hold yourself up. 

Joel laughs at the dazed look in your eyes when you come down. He thrusts his fingers inside of you once more without warning before removing them altogether, smirking at the gasp you let out from being empty so soon again.

“Joel.”

You don’t know why you’re saying his name, but it makes him go a little softer. He still has his hand between your legs, fingers slowly sliding back and forth through your slick folds. It feels good, your hips stuttering each time the pads of his fingers slip across your clit, “Ya want more, sweetheart? Tell me what ya want. Ain’t that hard to use your words.”

“I missed you,” you dare to breathe because it’s true. Although it’s not so much him as it is the way he makes you feel between your legs.

He brings down his hand on your pulsing mound and clit. It makes you nearly fall to your knees but he catches you, wrapping his strong arms around you as you slump against him. It’s the post-orgasmic sensitivity that’s making it hurt like you didn’t know it could, and suddenly you have tears in your eyes from the stinging heat the slap has left. You quickly blink them away because he spits abuse at you, and you won’t give him the satisfaction of making you come and then cry, “Shut the fuck up. Don’t give me any of that pussy shit.” 

It’s a weird contrast to being held, but you suppose that he can’t fuck you if you fall face-first into the wooden floorboards and earn yourself a bad concussion. You wouldn’t put it past him though, knowing he’d probably laugh at the gibberish that you’d blabber as you came on his dick without being able to recall it the next day. 

Joel carries you in his arms, drags your feet across the floor until he can throw you onto your bed. You lie on top of the covers and look at him with glazed eyes, watching him unbuckle his belt and shove his jeans down impatiently. He undresses the rest of himself in a hurry, showing little mercy for the flannel he is wearing as he nearly pops off its buttons. It seems like a chase to get to you, but Joel has no opponents, and he’ll never have any. 

“If ya can’t use your mouth for anything other than soundin’ like a little girl begging for my attention, then you might as well have it put to other use,” he says matter-of-factly. He kneels onto the bed then, crawls forward on his knees, and settles one on either side of your head. 

His dick impressively stands into the air, an angry red color to the head that begs for touch and threatens to drip with precome. It’s never felt more inviting to suck him off, even despite the obvious unease that you’d felt the last time that he had had his dick in your mouth. 

When the bead of precome finally becomes too big and slides down his length, you respond by greedily letting your mouth fall open. He slides the fat head past your lips. The girth of him already has your jaw aching, but you take him in as far as you can and use your fist for what doesn’t fit. Your wrist twists as you work him in unison with your mouth. 

You set up a slow pace, bobbing your head despite the knowledge of how strained your neck will be in the morning when you are lying down like this. The strain is worth it all though, because you earn a moan from him. It tells you exactly how you’re doing; it’s low and guttural above you. Your pussy screams for more. 

With your lips closed around him, you suck him off in earnest to get another reaction. You hollow your cheeks whenever you draw off of him, and whilst you’re at the tip, you run the flat of your tongue along the sensitive underside. 

Not that it should surprise you at this point, but no matter how hard you try to start slow and steady, Joel becomes enthusiastic about his own pleasure very quickly and it leaves very little empathy for you. He thrusts forwards, practically burying his cock down your windpipe and you immediately start to shed big, wet tears. 

“Fuck,” he moans quietly into the room. He stares down at you, one large hand cupping your cheek to hold you in place if you try to squirm away. Your tears slide down over the back of his hand, but he doesn’t comment on it. 

Your whimper vibrates along his hard length as he starts using your throat. With his generous size, it’s hard to breathe without choking. The air simply won’t go down your lungs in the way this overwork on your body demands. It causes you to drool, slicking his dick as spit pools in your mouth. It begins to dribble down your chin, his balls smacking wetly against it.

You’re a complete and utter mess beneath him with your nose buried in his happy trail. You take his brutal stabs to the back of your throat in stride and relax your neck muscles to take him as far as humanly possible. 

His free hand curls around your hair. Occasionally, he pulls it instead of moving his hips. Your head swims, your tears flow and your throat continuously gags with obscenely wet noises. He is so noisy above you. It keeps focus on your throbbing clit instead of your pained jaw.

From his breathing, you can hear that Joel is getting closer to coming. He gets a little louder, hips stuttering and dick pulsing just a bit more on your tongue. He suddenly pulls back with a force that tells you that he has used every fiber of self-restraint to do it. You didn’t think that his caveman behavior would make him able to edge himself.

“Shit, that was too close,” he grits out between pants, moving back on you again until he is between your legs. He squeezes around the base of his cock whilst you cough violently. 

“Can’t handle a little deep-throating?” You tease hoarsely.

“Fuck you,” he snaps, mercilessly pulling your legs apart by reaching behind himself and grabbing your ankles. He digs his nails into your legs as he slides his hands upward again, smacks one of your thighs aggressively, jiggling the flesh after.

“Yes, please,” you moan at the tiny sting he has caused to your upper leg, “Please, Joel. Fuck me.” 

“Turn around,” he commands. 

“But I wanna see you,” you start but it sounds way too sugary, “-r face when you come inside me.” 

“Yeah? Well, I don’t wanna see ya,” he says with little affection, drawing a circle in the air, “Do as you’re told and turn around. I can leave if—“

“No!” You protest a little too quickly. It earns you a smug smile that tells you Joel’s ego has grown three sizes in a mere second. God, you despise how needy he makes you. 

You move onto your front, lying flat on your belly. You turn your face to the side, grabbing at whatever of the sheets you can curl your fingers into. Joel shuffles behind you, reaches for your hips to angle your pelvis and you help him by bending your knees and pushing your legs out to the sides. 

Suddenly, his crushing weight is on top of you so he can whisper filth in your ear and keep you on the verge of insanity as you wait for him. You let out a soft sound as air is knocked out of your lungs and you feel like your pelvis might snap in half. It helps that his lips attach to the space where your neck meets your shoulder, biting more than sucking. 

“Gonna make ya cream yourself on my dick, honey,” he promises with confidence in his voice, still high on his ego trip from before. Your body responds with several somersaults in your lower abdomen, your pussy clenching at its emptiness and demand for more.  

“Oh fuck, Joel, n-need you to make it hurt… till I can’t breathe, baby.”

“Yeah?” He stretches again, gets comfortable on his knees, and jiggles the flesh of your behind before smacking your ass hard. He spreads your cheeks to spit down the cleft of your ass, watching it run down over your puckered hole and further down over your pussy. It earns you a groan, “This pussy is so ready for me. Look at it drippin’.”

Then you feel him pushing into you with brutal force until you can do nothing else, but mewl weakly. It feels like he is splitting you open right down the middle of your lower body, rough hands holding you in place by your waist.

He never fails to give you exactly what you ask for. Even despite this, you put on a show of trying to crawl away from him and you’re rewarded by another hard slap to your ass. Joel moans as it makes you clench around him. 

“You stay right here where I want ya,” he growls, setting up a rhythm that makes you want to sob. He is bruising you to the point where your eyes water, filling you to the brim with every thrust and slamming the fat head of his cock into your front wall where his little favorite spot is. When you whine loudly and wantonly, he laughs darkly, “Greedy little whore. You’re fucking shameless, ain’t you? Don’t even try— fuck. You don’t even try to hide how much you want it.” 

“Yes, fuck Joel, keep going,” you egg him on as your g-spot is getting the treatment it needs to make you scream. You arch your back a little by lifting your head from the mattress, and Joel takes it as an opportunity to slide his right hand around the front of your throat until he can contort your body to accept each hard thrust without slipping away. 

The new angle makes you grip the sheets so hard that you think you might tear the fabric. Fuck it, you think, they’re old ones anyway, and with the way that you are gushing around Joel’s dick, you think you might just throw them out after this. There’s no way you’re going to give them the same treatment as the dress if no one will appreciate it.

Joel’s hand moves up to cup your whole jaw. His other hand is bound to leave a mark on your hip bone, bracing himself on it as he pounds you until he can feel tears run down over the fingers on your chin. He kisses your back, slides his tongue up to your shoulder where he plants a wet kiss. It helps with staying focused and soothes you a little as he relentlessly moves inside of you. 

He tilts your head back afterward, moves his hips a little forwards without slipping out to tower over your body. His thumb drags down on your chin, leaving your mouth a little open.

And then he kisses you for the first time ever, right on your open mouth whilst bottoming out over and over inside of your cunt right where you need him the most. You melt into his lips, delirious with pleasure that’s sending you closer to the edge and pain that’s going to linger for a few days. 

But it’s neither the pain nor pleasure that unravels you in his arms. It’s the fact that you are being allowed something so intimate from him, causing tears to spill as he tears down the pleasure that he’s built inside of your belly. You come with a feeble sob, clamping down on his cock which feels bigger now that your cunt is quivering with pleasurable shocks. 

It’s too much for him. He thrusts a few times more before his hips stutter. He buries himself inside your pussy, the tip of his dick nudging your cervix. You feel his warm load fill you up, wet squelches echoing through your quiet bedroom as he fucks you through his aftershocks. 

Your thighs are aching, your fingers too. Your cunt is a whole other story, painfully sensitive as he pulls out with a moan and rolls off of you. 

It doesn’t matter. Absolutely none of it matters. Not a single fucking thing matters besides the way that he is pulling you down onto his chest, still kissing you on the lips, roughly in the beginning, but slowly now that his energy is spent.

After a while, he starts to move. 

“No,” you whine, “Stay. Please.”

“I can’t,” he mumbles, “That ain’t how this works.”

He leaves ten minutes later, but you ache more from heartbreak than the bruises that have started to form on your skin.

.

.

.

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[cowgurrrl]

I REALLY need some Joel fluff where reader says to him “I have loved you with all of my soul”

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT I WENT OVERBOARD SO HOPEFULLY ITS OKAY

Kiss Me Once, and Kiss Me Twice

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: hey remember when I said I was either gonna not write or write too much guess what happened

Summary: You and Joel finally get married [4.3k!!!!]

Warnings: wedding stress, quick quick mentions of smoking tobacco and marijuana, emotions, Hank Miller being the only southern boomer I care about, fluff :-)

When you were growing up and imagining your wedding day, you never saw yourself getting married in Texas. But once you're in the throes of wedding planning, you very quickly realize you don't want to get married in California. Too many people. Too much of a chance of the paparazzi crashing the wedding. Too close to home. Joel talks about the idea of getting married in your home town which you veto immediately. He starts listing every location significant to you two, New York, Ireland, Spain, and even Australia, but none of them feel right. At one point, you even think about suggesting you just go to the courthouse and file the paperwork, but you know Joel's family would be heartbroken if you didn't have a "real" wedding. 

Filming has taken over a majority of your life, as it often does. Joel is in the process of creating his own record label with a studio to match. Ellie is looking at colleges and trying to figure out her next steps, while Sarah is already planning her move to Sacramento to pursue a job and her Master's degree. It feels like there will never be a right time for your wedding. One night, when you're on hour three of being hunched over your computer, looking at fucking floral arrangements, Joel comes up behind you and kneads relaxing circles into your neck with big hands. You sigh and lean back into him, pressing your head into his belly.

"I thought this was gonna be more fun." You mumble, and he laughs as he leans down to kiss the spot under your ear. 

"And I thought I told you to hire a wedding planner." He says. 

"I don't want a wedding planner. I just want a wedding." 

"Well, honey," you can hear him trying to hold in his laughter at your stubborn pouting. To his credit, he pulls it together. "We can find a way to make that happen, but for now, why don't you take a break? You can tell me all your wedding ideas while I pack our bags for Texas." He says, his thumbs adding a little more pressure to your sore muscles, and you melt into him. He could've asked you for the moon right then, and you would've said yes. 

"Only if you promise to tell me your ideas, too." 

"Deal." He says as he shuts your laptop and scoops you out of your chair. You spend the rest of the night debating cake flavors, groomsmen and bridesmaids, and where you want to go on your honeymoon. It's technically still wedding planning but all the light-hearted parts of wedding planning. You're grateful for the distraction. 

Two days later, you, Joel, Tommy, Maria, and the girls get on a flight back to Austin. Hank and Lucia are overdue for a visit anyways, and you figured getting out of California might help to clear your heads for a while. However, the boys immediately flee the scene when you arrive at the Miller Ranch. You and Lucia share a confused look as Hank leads them down a steep hill, pointing at a pasture and talking about something you can't hear, but decide to take it as an opportunity for girl time. 

You, Lucia, Maria, Sarah, and Ellie spend the night drinking margaritas and exchanging stories. It's nice to giggle and talk with them like you're little girls again. In a way, they make you feel like you get a second chance at girlhood, and for that, you will always be grateful. Once it gets close to dinner time, the Miller men shuffle their way back inside the house, kick off their muddy boots, walk over to their partners, and kiss them sweetly. 

As one big blended family, you make dinner together. Lucia delegates tasks while Hank and the girls steal pieces of chicken when nobody's looking. Joel pretends to need something from the fridge to slide past you and smack your ass as he does. Lucia catches him, hits his arm, and yells at him in Spanish about being nice to you. "Mamá!" Joel tries to defend himself, but you just give him a look and leave him to be lectured at by his mother. Once dinner is ready, you all sit at the long table in the dining room and continue to laugh, talk, and be a family. Maria asks questions about wedding planning while Lucia (lovingly) interrogates Ellie and Sarah about their love lives. 

"Are you dating anyone, mija?" Lucia asks, gesturing to Sarah. Sarah shifts uncomfortably in her chair, and you know, even if she lied, her grandmother would see right through it.

"I actually met someone," she says. "His name is Ethan. He's a firefighter, and we met when someone pulled the fire alarm on campus." 

"He's really nice, Mamá," Joel jumps in before Lucia can continue her questions, raising his eyebrows at her. "We really like him." He looks at you like he's trying to show you how supportive he's being of Sarah's relationship even though it took him multiple meetings and several talks with both of you to approve of his daughter's choices. 

"Sarah, you didn't even tell her the best part." You poke, and Sarah sighs, already anticipating Lucia's reaction and making you smirk as you eat. 

"There's a best part?" Lucia asks. "Well, now you gotta tell me."

"Ethan speaks Spanish," Sarah says. Lucia got so excited you would've thought the second coming of Christ was happening in her living room. She immediately starts talking about coming to LA to meet him and his family or even flying them out to Austin to see the ranch. You can't help but smile as you watch them conspire together. 

Once everyone is full, the boys take the dirty plates to the kitchen to wash them while you and the other women put away the leftovers and clean the table. Joel waits until the dining room is back together before stealing you away from the chaos and bringing you outside. The sun setting over the Texas hill country takes your breath away as he walks you halfway between the house and the stables, with just enough acreage to not see too much of either. You can't believe how quiet it is out here. Once you get far enough out, Tommy and Hank come into view with little posts in the ground. 

"What's this?" You ask Joel as you get closer, and he smiles. He takes his hand in yours and stops walking to look at you. 

"I've been thinkin’, and I wanted to see what you thought about gettin’ married here." He says. 

"On the ranch?"

"Look, we've already mapped it all out," he says, leaving your side to walk to one of the posts. "This could be the dance floor, and over here," he walks a few feet to another post. "This could be where the tables get set up," he gestures before walking back over to you and pointing to a big white oak tree a couple hundred feet away. "And we could have the ceremony under that tree. Dad and Tommy already said they would help me put up some of those fairy lights you like so much. We could make it really nice." He says, and you glance between him and Hank and Tommy.

"Is this what you guys did all afternoon?" 

"Yes, ma'am," Hank says, and you smile. You look out at the painted sky with the wildflowers swaying in the breeze, and from this far out, you can see the comforting glow of light from the house. You can also spot a lazy Longhorn grazing in the pasture about half a mile away, completely unaware of the world around him. It's beautiful. And private. And so perfectly encompasses what you both want for the wedding. 

"You don't have to make a decision right now. I know it's a lot, but I thought it'd be fun." Joel says. You wrap your arms around his neck and step into him, smiling when his hands find your waist. 

"Let's do it." You say, and he lights up.

"Wait, really?"

"I never thought I'd say it, but yeah. Let's get married in Texas." The words are barely out of your mouth before he picks you up off the ground and spins you around giddily. He kisses you to seal the deal, and Tommy and Hank cheer from their spots. 

After that, wedding planning really ramps up. You set an official date. You make Carolina your Maid of Honor, and Ryan agrees to stand in as your officiant after Lucia determines he's "just Catholic enough." Elizabeth gets the responsibility of ring bearer since she's a little older, while Victoria is the flower girl. You quickly add Sarah, Ellie, and Maria to your wedding party after assuring Ellie that she can wear whatever she wants. Joel makes Tommy his Best Man and asks his band to be his groomsmen. Even though Wayne is the only other guy in the band, they all say yes and don't even blink at the idea of having to fly to Texas. 

The next few months are a blur of flower orders, cake tastings, schedule workarounds, and more. Carolina, Lucia, Maria, Sarah, and Ellie go dress shopping with you. You were initially just going to send some ideas to your stylist for her to make you a dress, but they were all vehemently against that idea. It takes a couple different stores and a handful of different dresses, but you finally find a sleek silk dress with a lace bodice that makes everyone, including you, cry when you stand in the mirror. Your bridesmaids find their outfits in no time, and Carolina gets cute little dresses for the girls. 

You only invite the really important people and a photographer. You only tell a few people outside the guests and the wedding party when and where you're getting married. It's none of their business. This is just for your family. No outsiders. You don't even hire a DJ. Tommy just agrees to bring a big speaker, and you sit down to make a playlist with Joel about a month before the wedding.

Your crew of people descend upon Austin the week of your wedding, ready to work together to turn the Miller Ranch into a dream location. Thankfully, Hank and Lucia have gathered their own community of people and already have half the work done by the time you come up the long dirt driveway. Ryan helps Hank, Tommy, and his buddies hang lights in the tree. Carolina and Sarah help Lucia, and her friends put together centerpieces. Joel's band and Ellie set up tables and the dance floor. Whenever you or Joel try to help or lend a hand, someone ends up shooing you away and telling you to relax. They only listen to either of you when you're giving direction on how you want things to go. 

You keep the Bachelor and Bachelorette parties to a minimum, only going out to a few bars far from Sixth Street and spending most of the time getting drunk in the guest house turned Bridal Suite. You're pretty sure Hank gave Joel and the groomsmen cigars, which is fine as long as they don't find out you gave the bridesmaids weed. It's nice to not have to worry about nosy people or cameras ruining the days leading up to your wedding. The quiet, giggly privacy is all you want. It also helps to clear your head when writing your vows.

From the beginning, you and Joel decided you wanted to write your own vows instead of using the archaic, pre-written ones. You just didn't know then how hard it would be to find the right things to say. You ask Carolina, Lucia, and Maria for advice, but they just tell you the same cheesy line of "writing from your heart." While it's incredibly sweet, it's not exactly helpful. The night before the wedding, Sarah and Ellie sneak into your room for one last sleepover before you marry Joel, and you ask them for help. You read them what you've already written and catch them both wiping tears as you recite it. They give you logical advice and stay up with you to rewrite your vows until they're perfect. You fall asleep with them tucked under your arms like babies despite them being twenty-two and eighteen. 

In the morning, everyone piles into your room with plates of breakfast and mimosas from the main house. You're not allowed to leave the guest house because they think if you see Joel before the ceremony, it'll be bad luck. You're not sure you believe that, but you'll take the excuse to get other people to run things to and from the house. Ellie plays music from her speaker as everyone picks a corner to do their hair and makeup in, and you spend the first half of the day getting ready and spending time with the most important women in your life. They help you into your dress once the photographer arrives to take pre-wedding photos of you guys, but everyone is a crying mess once you're all dressed up with the dress, veil, and everything. 

Many, many sweet words and hugs are exchanged, and the photographer catches all of them. Sarah and Ellie surprise you with new earrings from Joel and a beautiful necklace they picked out for the wedding. Sarah helps you put on the earrings while Ellie clasps the necklace around your neck. You give the girls rings that match the one you've been hiding in plain sight on your right ring finger for weeks now. "For as much as I'm promising to love your dad today, I'm also promising to love you guys with everything I am for as long as I am," you say, tears springing in your eyes as you hand the delicate rings to them. They're crying, too, but they're holding it together a little bit better than you are. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. And I hope I never forget just how lucky I am to have two of the most extraordinary women in the world in my life." After all these years, it feels like you're finally becoming the family you always knew you were. 

The rest of the day goes by way too fast. One minute you're hugging Sarah and Ellie, and the next, your arm is tucked under Hank's as your bridesmaids and goddaughters slowly walk down the aisle. Your heart is beating fast against your rib cage, and you feel like you can't breathe, but you know once you see Joel, you'll feel completely at peace. You go from fiddling with your bouquet to your engagement ring to even readjusting Hank's tie as Alex plays an instrumental version of your favorite ABBA song. 

"Honey, look at me," Hank says gently. You meet his green eyes, and he smiles as he puts a hand over yours and squeezes. "Take a breath," he says. He demonstrates with an exaggerated inhale in case you forgot and you copy him. Together, you take three big breaths, and once the last of the Texas air leaves your lungs, Hank squeezes your hand again. "Now, I know I really shouldn't be sayin' this since that's my boy up there, but if you've gone and changed your mind, I'll bring my truck round the corner and drive you wherever you needa go." You laugh at his words and shake your head. 

"I kinda love him, so I think I'll be okay, but thank you." You try to brush it off, but your anxiety still lingers. Hank nods and bumps you with his shoulder.

"For what it's worth, I was scared shitless the day I married Lucia." He whispers like it's a secret, and you look at him.

"Really?"

"Really," he confirms. "We were so goddamn young and thought we were so grown up. I remember seein' her walkin' down the aisle and just thinkin' bout how I was gonna support her and give her the life she deserved. I didn't know if I was man enough to do it. I almost started cryin' just cause of that."

"What changed?" You ask, and he chuckles, shaking his head. His hair moves with the wind, and for a second, you get a glimpse of what Joel could look like at his age. And it doesn't scare you.

"She smiled at me, and I was done for. I knew if I didn't marry her, I was gonna be kickin' myself for the rest of my life," he finds the back of Lucia's head as Tommy and Carolina pass her, and he smiles. "Still the best decision I ever made." You take a deep breath and realize the line of wedding party is getting shorter and shorter as each pair is dispatched down the aisle. Your heart is still beating fast, but you feel less sick and more excited about getting to see Joel after not seeing him all day. You squeeze Hank's hand again before sliding it under his arm and resting your head on his shoulder. 

"Ready, baby girl?" He asks as he kisses your head, and you nod. With Hank's strong arm leading the way, you start walking down the aisle and immediately lock eyes with Joel. He starts crying, which makes you start crying so much you have to blink several times to see how handsome he looks in his suit. Hank kisses your cheek as you reach the aisle's end before hugging Joel and handing you off to him. You turn around, give Carolina your bouquet, and take Joel's hands.

"You look so beautiful," Joel whispers, and you sniffle.

"Thank you," you whisper back. "You look pretty handsome yourself." 

"Gucci," he mouths, gesturing to his suit, and you nod your approval. It's silly enough to break the emotional tension as Ryan starts speaking, even though you're not really listening. He says something to appease Lucia's Catholic roots before talking about how important and beautiful marriage is, but you can't stop staring at Joel. It's only when Ryan says your name and the word 'vows' do you snap back to reality. Carolina quickly supplies you with the scribbled-on paper and a tissue because nobody knows you as well as she does, and you squeeze Joel's hand.

"Joel, it seems hard to remember a time when we weren't together and even harder to remember what my life was like before I met you. I did and accomplished so many important things, but nothing seemed as important or special once you and the girls came into my life. You three became my entire world, and for that alone, I will spend the rest of my life trying to repay you for that gift," you say. "When I was trying to write my vows, I honestly didn't know where to start. Instead of struggling by myself, I asked the two people who've been there since the beginning of our relationship: Sarah and Ellie. After giving me lots of advice and all but forcing me to add something about loving you even though you snore," you and Joel laugh.

"Sarah told me it might be a good idea to write about the very first time I realized I loved you, but when I started thinking about it, I realized I couldn't pinpoint one specific day or time. There was never a moment of clarity or realization when it came to you. Loving you came easily and naturally, like breathing, and once I realized it, I knew there was no going back. You were and still are the person I want to spend my life with. Our story is not traditional or necessarily one for the history books, and I think you'd agree with me," your voice catches in your throat, and Joel's thumb brushes against your knuckles softly. 

"We've had setbacks and hard times. Everything from moving across the world to trying to remember who loaded the dishwasher last but through everything, you were my home. My safe place. My reason to keep going. And if historians in a hundred years pay us any attention, I hope they write about how protected you made me feel. I hope they talk about how we found ways to laugh together even when it felt hard. I hope they spend hours and hours lecturing about how much I loved you because I do. I have loved you with all my soul for as long as I can remember, and I will keep loving you like that until long after I forget the exact details of our first date. Thank you for choosing me." You sniffle, fold your paper back up, and wipe under your eyes with Carolina's tissue. Various sniffles and tears rake over your guests and wedding party as Tommy hands Joel his vows with wet eyes. 

"When I first moved to LA with Sarah, I didn't know what was gonna happen. I didn't know I'd have another daughter, my band, or meet the love of my life. The day we met, I remember thinkin' I'd never known anybody as witty or smart as you, and I still think that. But now, after so many years, I know you're more than that. You're brave, kind, talented, hard-working, and way out of my league," he says, and you laugh. "The first time I remember realizin' just what an amazing person you are was when I told you about Sarah and Ellie. Other people would be freaked out or even upset if they found out the person they'd been datin' had kids. You weren't. You asked questions about them and were selfless with your time so I could be with the girls when they needed a little extra love and care. And when you met them, you treated them like you'd known them your whole life. You treated them like you're own," he squeezes your hand a little hard like he's trying to find the strength to continue. "That's when I knew I was gonna marry you,"

"I trusted you then with the two people closest to my heart and it's safe to say you'll always be the one I trust with the girls. You'll always be the one I trust to get me out of bed on time. You'll always be the one I trust to help me make fashion choices. You'll always be the one I trust to be patient with me and get coffee when we need to recharge because you're my person. I love you, and I'll love you when I'm old and wrinkly and can't hear for shit. And you'll know all my stories, and I'll know all your movies by heart, and we'll laugh for years and years. I can't wait to start forever with you." He almost wipes his eyes with his vows, and you quickly switch his hands, making him laugh.

I love you, he mouths.

I love you, too, you mouth back.

Everyone, including Ryan, takes a second to sit in their emotions before taking a deep breath and coming back together. He calls Elizabeth forward, and you exchange rings. Joel stands up a little straighter the second the gold band is placed on his left hand, and you smile. Ryan clears his throat, eyes shining as he stares at you two and opens his mouth.

"By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!" He announces. Your few guests cheer loudly as Joel cradles your face in his hands and kisses you. Wildflower petals scatter around you, and the sun is setting behind the altar, but nothing matters as much as your husband does now. He kisses you a few more times before finally pulling away and joining the cheering. You walk back up the aisle, now married, and everyone follows after you.

The reception after is perfect with all your favorite foods and desserts, including Lucia's Texas Trash Pie, which makes your mouth water just looking at it. People hug you and Joel and offer congratulations and even a few sweet tears at the ceremony. Carolina and Tommy deliver amazing, hilarious speeches honoring both of you, and then it's finally time to dance. You and Joel chose "It's Been a Long, Long Time" by Kitty Kallen and Harry James for your first dance, and under the fairy lights and setting Texas sun, you realize just how perfect a choice it was. 

You bury your head in his neck and sway slowly with him, basking in the tenderness of being so close to him. He sings along quietly and kisses the shell of your ear as you dance. Towards the end, you spot Ellie and Sarah standing beside the dance floor and wave them to you behind Joel's back. They hesitate for a second before running to join you. Joel tucks each girl under his arm and kisses their foreheads. The four of you make for an awkward little slow dance, but you're all giggling and smiling despite it. 

As the song ends, Joel escorts the three of you off the dance floor before grabbing Lucia for the mother-son dance. Lucia is so short compared to Joel that it's almost impossible not to smile. Still, he's slow and careful with her, and his eyes sparkle as they converse secretly. You catch Hank watching them through teary eyes nearby, and a secret plan hatches in your brain. Quickly, you rush over to where your phone is connected to the speaker and queue up an acoustic version of “Simply the Best” by Tina Turner. When Lucia and Joel's song ends, you grab Hank's hand and pull him onto the floor as the song starts playing. 

"Now, what are you doin'?" He asks as you put your hands on his shoulders.

"You never got to have a father-daughter dance. I figured you should get at least one." You explain. Tears fill his eyes almost instantly, and you smile when he holds you close. 

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "For everythin'." 

"I should be thanking you and Lucia. You raised my husband."

The rest of the night is spent dancing, drinking, and spending time with your favorite people. You’re not exactly sure how long you were out there celebrating but you do know that your feet were sore and your brain utterly fried from the long, emotional day. Joel carries you to bed bridal style and carefully lays you down, doing his best not to rip your dress as he helps you slip your shoes off. Together, you undo your hair, take off your makeup, take off and hang up your dress, and change into one of Joel’s shirt before crawling into bed.

“Tired?” Joel asks as he starts shedding his wedding clothes too and you nod into the pillow.

“Sorry for not, like, wanting to consummate our marriage right now.” You say, and he laughs. It’s that delirious, breathless laughter where you’re not sure if the joke was actually that funny or if the reaction to it is. You laugh too and watch his nose scrunch up and his body shake with joy. He steps out of his slacks, presses a knee into the mattress to lean over you, and kisses you sweetly.

“Don’t worry bout that,” he mumbles against you. “We’ve got our whole lives.”

Once he’s finished changing, he crawls into bed and pulls you close to rub your back. You can feel his wedding band getting caught in the fabric but you don’t say anything. You fall asleep in his arms, full of love, Texas Trash Pie, and giddy excitement at what the future holds. How could you not when you get to spend it with him?

[joelsbeard]

guilty 2 say that i’m a little obsessed with ur hcs🫣 so i’m back with another requestttt

could i ask for hcs about the affect reader has on young!joel? like it can be anything from her physical to emotional aspects, i js wanna know how down bad you think he is for his girl yk😩

you are so nice 🥺 MORE HEADCANONS COMING UP YEEEEE

edit: i spent too long building up on how you and joel met lol so I will so another part to this to answer it a little better

My AU hc is that you and joel meet in hs and have sarah and ellie lol, and my canon divergent hc is that you meet joel after he has sarah and is raising her as a single dad (since it's such a defining moment/trait for him i guess) and then you have ellie together ❤️ so her and sarah are half sisters. Idk if i'll ever get around to writing hc's for the second one since I'd rather focus on you and joel meeting in hs and having sarah and ellie ❤️ lol also less heartbreak for my pookie.

ANYWAYS, you and joel meet in hs ❤️ and honestly you both fall for each other at the same time 🙈 so yall are just pining for each other lol.

AND everybody knows it and its so cute

You probably grew up with him or went to the same middle school at least, have definitely thought the other one was cute but didn't really act on it, and yall have dated other people (not a lot, but both of you have dated 1-2 other ppl at least)

After both of you are single in hs, you for some reason end up noticing each other more in the hallways and stuff

Then you have a class together and ITS ALL OVER 😈

It's like all of a sudden a switch turns on and you guys start crushing REAL bad on each other

You've been in the same group projects once or twice and every time you interact one of yall is alwayyyys blushing

Most people ship you guys (except for the jealous girls and guys smh) and both of your and his friends try to play matchmaker and get you two to go out lol

As I've previously mentioned before, i do not see joel miller as a player at all, so he probably does get a little nervous around you sometimes, however I also think he's got his moments where he's smooth as hell and the rizz the fuck out of you LMAOO (uh daddy??)

He got you like this in class 😍🙈😋🥰 fr

Okay but you honestly have the same effect on him

On multiple occasions you find yourselves looking at each other in class hehe, and when you make eye contact you guys are like 🤭

I will clarify though, he's not out here hardcore flirting with you or anything, i think he's a little too shy for that

Yall get butterflies in your stomach whenever you talk to each other, meanwhile both of your friends are trying to hype you both up being like "just go out with him/her!!!" and being like "he/she totally likes you!" or "Somebody told me that they have a crush on you 🙈" but yall are too shy/blind to see each other's feelings lol

EVENTUALLY you guys hang out a little, and afterwards he asks you on a date, and you guys are SMITTEN with each other from then on

Yall become that couple in hs that everyone loves lol, they think yall are so cute together

Yes you go to prom together lol (can you tell I'm american)

I think it'd be cliche for you to get pregnant with sarah on your prom night, i think that'd also be a little too early for canon (joel becomes a dad at 19, so his baby mama (you!!) must've gotten pregnant around 18/19, so that's typically your senior yr of hs or after you've graduated)

To be continued!!!!

[diana-3]

Crow’s Nest.

Diana sighed as she climbed the last few stairs to Devrim’s perch. The Gentlemen Sniper pulled his rifle back inside the windowsill and turned, having earlier waved to Diana he smiled at her approach. “Ah,” His warm tone brought a smile to her face, “Di, hello dear, how are you?”

“I’m alright I guess..s’been a while...huh?” There was guilt layering her tone, like a child who was admitting to a wrong--ready for a scolding.  

“Works kept you busy,” Devrim settled against the wall and his smile held, but his eyes turned downward and with it the mood lowered. “Seems as if the whole world is trying to burn around us.” He nodded to the radio on the shabby table with the teaset near by. “I’ve been keeping up on the radio chatter, you’ve been busy out toward the Tangled Shore lately?”

“Oh yeah,” Dianna removed her helmet and went to settle on the floor next to Devrim who glanced out the window. “There’s this new baddie, Xivu Arath? A hive celebrant...whatever that means...trying to corrupt Fal---Eliskni and Cabal into being Hive mind slaves. Causing a lot of trouble on the Shore and in the Dreaming City. Been working with Spider’s crew to get it cleaned up but its been weeks now.”

“A month yesterday,” Joel corrected as he appeared by Diana’s side. “I overheard Glint and Crow talking about it as we were walking away yesterday.”

“A month…” Diana repeated with weight behind her long sigh that followed. “Has it been that long already?”

“Between the constant crucible matches and vanguard operations to charge the lure, not to mention the individual hunts themselves, I’m not surprised we hadn’t realized.” Even Joel sounded exhausted, flying low until he settled in Diana’s hands as she crossed her legs and closed her eyes. “It’s been...hectic to say the least.”

“When was the last time you had any time off?” Devrim asked, raising a dark brow as he removed himself from the window completely now. Hanging his rifle on carefully placed hooks in the collapsing church to avoid accidental misfires. “You both look absolutely ragged.”

Diana hummed in thought. Her head slowly lulling from side to side before she spoke. “The Festival of the Lost?”

“Can’t really count that as time off when we were fixing the infinite forest…” Joel reminded her and she nodded.

“Soooo, before then?”

“My word,” Devrim’s shocked outburst made the tired guardian and her ghost both open their eyes and look at him. He was standing with his teapot in hand, “You’re going to need something a bit more strong than tea then to unwind.”

“You know what I want?” Diana chuckled softly, the fatigue showing through her defeated tone. “A nap. A nice, warm nap.”

“You’re more than welcome to come back to the farm,” Devrim offered, putting down his teapot and reaching for clean cups and saucers. “You could rant about anything bothering you until you can rest, or you’re free to do so after over a nice hot cup of tea.”

Diana smiled, watching the older man go through his motions to prepare his staple drink. The care he put into making it and the glance he gave her when he felt her stare. “Thanks,” She smiled back, “But,” She tapped Joel’s shell and woke the little Ghost from his quiet rest, his eye blinking open and his shell twitching in a stretch. “I think seeing Mythrax would just wind me back up again...remind me of everything going on on Europa.”

“Ah,” Devrim’s smile fell as he watched Joel take a lazy flight, hovering just above Diana’s shoulder as she climbed to her feet wearily. “Do you have somewhere else to stay then? I have no bed or blanket here, but I can offer great conversation and drink, a little light on snacks I’m afraid.”

“Actually…” Diana rubbed her head before her face and sighed, “I think there’s somewhere I want to...revisit. It’s not the Tower, but right now I’d rather avoid the tower if possible too…”

“Just seems like there's nowhere for us to go to get a rest away from everyone.” Joel admitted, his eye downcast as his shell shook side from side. “There's always someone looking for the next report, the next ship out, the next bounty to be taken…” He glanced at Diana who was lost in thought, her cyan eyes following the floorboard toward the window. When she slowly walked away to peer out Devrim’s window, Joel flew near Devrim and whispered. “She’s had a lot thrust onto her shoulders lately Devrim, I don’t know...I don’t know how to help her right now…”

“Is she alright?” Devrim asked, pretending to busy himself with cleaning his table as he waited for the water to boil.

“Physically she’s fine, she’s just so mentally worn out...A lot of old emotional wounds opened up…” Joel twitched in the air, flying a few degrees lower, “You’ve heard about Io, Mercury and Titan?”

“I had.” Devrim nodded, his face stern with thought. “She had friends on those planets didn’t she?”

“Yes, Asher Mir for one,” Joel shook his shell, “She’s still holding out hope that he’s in the Pyramidian, holding out. But no one’s heard from him...or Sloane and Vance...Then...we heard about Sagria…”

“Sagria?” Devrim whispered back, glancing over his shoulder to Diana, who was watching something out the window. “A guardian?”

“

A Ghost,” Joel corrected, “She was Osiris’ ghost...she sacrificed herself to save Osris from Xivu Arath’s influence...he’s Ghostless now...without the light...he’s taken refuge in the tower and asks Diana about how she and Crow--”

“Crow?” Devrim asked, raising a dark brow as he picked up the teapot and began pouring the tea into two cups. “Is that a guardian?”

“S-something like that…” Joel hesitated a tad too long and it drew a long and measured look from the marksman. “He’s a new guardian but...it’s part of the old emotional wounds opening up...that’s all I can say…”

“Mmhmm..” Devrim kept his stare on the little ghost who twitched and flew a few inches away.

“The less you know, the better.” Joel sighed.

“Wouldn’t happen to wear red pants...would this...Crow?” Devrim asked softly, glancing back at Diana who was still preoccupied with scanning the distance.

“You’ve seen him?!” Joel flew close to Devrim’s face, making the older man chuckle and straighten his back a bit.

“I’ve seen someone bustling around in the distance,” Devrim nodded with his head toward the direction of the dam, “He’s never come close though, and always seems to keep a hood up or a helmet on..I’ve never seen his face. Causing our girl some trouble is he?”

“He doesn’t mean to,” Joel said, “He’s new to everything and Di….she doesn’t know how to handle her feelings. He really reminds her of someone she’d rather forget, but at the same time she’s grown closer to him, and is having trouble letting go of that….resemblance.”

“Sounds messy,” Devrim picked up the cup and took a small sip to taste before nodding. “She needs a good rest, and time to herself away from everyone to let herself work through things. Is there a Hunter hideout where she might be able to take cover?”

“None that wouldn’t turn her over to Zavala to keep themselves from being called to the tower..” Joel had a hint of irritation in his voice, “We tried a few of the old spots, but some people have a sore spot for Di. Shaw hasn’t exactly warmed up to her and he’s made a name for himself in the cosmodrome. People think, that she thinks she’s too important, that she abandoned them in their greatest hour of need…And with the Hunters still without a leader...”

“Did they forget the part where the entire universe was at stake?” Devrim asked too loudly, drawing Diana’s tired attention finally from the window.

“Who knew the Cosmodrome was separate from our universe.” She had no mirth to her voice now, she seemed to shake slightly from side to side as she pushed away from the window and walked over to take the cup offered to her gingerly from Devrim. “Thanks…”

“I’m sorry that you’re dealing with so much,” Devrim put a gentle hand on Diana’s shoulder and squeezed it. A flicker in her eyes caught him off guard, was she going to cry? “I hope that the vanguard has at least given you some hefty time off to recoup after running you so ragged?”

“Hawthorne helped,” Joel said with a hint of pride, “When Diana was ready to just drop off the tower to get away from Zavala and Shaw, she spoke up and advocated for Diana to have a relief mission.”

“Tore into them did she?” Devrim chuckled warmly, “Ah, I can hear her now.”

“It was quite a sight,” Joel laughed, his shell squinting as he bobbed up, like a smile. “She wasn’t about to let Zavala just walk all over Diana.”

“M’ just too tired to fight anymore.” Diana admitted as she took a drink from the cup, taking a moment to shiver at the bitterness. “I wanna sleep for a week in a hole in the ground…” She paused…”Or...in a wall…” Her eyes widened slowly before she downed the rest of the cup, filled only half of the way before handing the cup back to Devrim. “If anyone asks,”

“I haven’t heard from you in months.” Devrim winked at her as he took her cup and replaced it on the table. “No idea where you could be. Haven't’ seen you in the EDZ in quite some time.” He turned and lifted his own teacup to her in salute, “I really should contact you via radio to come spend some time with this old man.” He could hear Diana and Joel speaking softly as he turned and sipped at his tea, trying not to listen to the quiet planning. He couldn’t help but hear.

“Are you sure you want to go there?” Joel was asking, concern filling his voice.

“Where else can we go right now? Unless you really wanna watch me dig a hole and bury ourselves.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this...but we could go to the Derlict?” Joel offered in a hushed tone, “Drifter would hide you for a while.”

“He’d also bug me to death for answers, or to get me into Gambit again…” Diana sighed heavily. Devrim kept himself turned around, studying the hand written notes from Marc laying on his desk, hidden out of direct sight behind the radio he used to listen to chatter, or talk to Suraya who was living in the Tower now. “No, I think it’ll be the one place no one, except one person would think to look…”

“Do you think he would?” Joel asked softly.

“No, his leash is too short right now. He might wonder to himself, maybe to Glint, but he won’t actually come looking. Which will give us all the time we need to rest.” Diana sounded sure of herself and her mind was made up. Wherever they were going, it was going to be a secret between them.

“It won’t be very comfortable,” Joel complained slightly.

“We can find a few ways to make it work.” Diana said a little more loudly, the time for private conversation over with. Devrim was refilling his cup, still pretending to be lost in his own little world when he felt two taps on his shoulder. He put down his cup and turned to receive the gentle hug Diana offered without thinking. “I’ll come by again soon Devrim, thank you for letting us rest and clear our head.”

“I don’t need to tell you that you are always welcome,” Devrim told her as he squeezed her, returning the hug. “But I will anyway, just so I’m sure you know. You can always come up here to hide out, and I won’t tell a soul if you don’t want me to.” He felt her start to pull away and he kept his hold until she leaned more heavily against him, allowing him to share her weight. “You be careful out there, hm?”

“Yes sir,” Diana’s chest vibrated with her voice, chuckling into his ear as she squeezed him back. “I’ll make sure to stop by for the dawning.” When Devrim pulled away she nodded, “I’ll remember the Shortbread cookies you love so much.”

“It pairs so well with my favorite festive tea,” Devrim sighed at the thought of such a comfort item. “It is getting around that time...isn’t it?”

“A few more weeks…” Diana nodded, “Hopefully I’ll get to feeling better before then. I’d like to go to the tower to see everyone…”

“Then you best get to it,” Devrim winked at her and grabbed a small bag from under his table, protected by a sheet that had hidden it from sight. “Here, take this, a self care package if you will.”

“Tea?” Diana laughed as she took the bag without looking at it.

“And a few biscuits and hot cocoa, some tripemines to set up a perimeter, clean water etcetera.” Devrim smiled as he poured a second cup for himself. “Little things that will help make the roughing it less...rough.”

“Thanks Devrim but shouldn’t you need this?” She asked, holding the bag up.

“Not for a while, I’m going on vacation too..of a sort. It’s Marc’s Rezzing day soon. We decided to go to Suraya in the city and spend time together. I’ll have all the comfort I need. And I can replenish my supplies.” Devrim watched as Diana nodded and looked toward the stairs. “Go on now, I won’t keep you any longer.” He turned his back and pretended to busy himself with the radio dial until a heavy baritone voice came over the waves.

“Thanks again…” Diana gave a small salute before disappearing over the ledge, not bothering with the stairs.

“It’s like they’re allergic to safety,” Devrim mused to himself, chuckling as he watched her go.

//

“Are you sure about this?” Joel asked as Diana picked her way over the rubble, careful to make sure that Devrim’s care package wouldn’t rip.

“Like I said, I’m out of ideas, unless you know of somewhere else we can go…’S not like we can go chill with Asher anymore…” She paused down the dimly lit corridor and sighed. “I miss him.”

“I know,” Joel touched his feckle to her cheek and accepted the loving caress she gave him that pinned him to her cheek gently. “I do too.”

“So this is the one place I can think of that...they won’t know to look and if they did think to look, I don’t think he’d tell.” Diana finished softly. She was outside the  little alcove now and started to go inside but hesitated.

“What's wrong?” Joel asked, blinking his yellow cat eye and watching how she hesitated. It wasn’t like her.

“I should ask permission…” She said firmly. “This is the one place that’s his and his alone...if I were just to barge in here and use it without asking? I’d be taking that away from him, I’d be just as bad as Spider. We’re not that close...in reality. He might think...I’m overstepping boundaries if I don’t ask…” The heavy silence in the air didn’t last long before she asked, “Can you patch me into a secure line to him?”

“Just a moment.” Joel busied himself with twitching, extending his shell and rotating back and forth until the sound of static washed away and a familiar voice asked.

“Who is this?”

“Glint, it’s us. It’s secure right?” Joel asked, replacing his shell to its rightful shape. Diana noticed one of his cat ears was coming untapped and tried to push it back down in place, only to knock it off and make her gasp in both shock and sadness.

“Of course!” Glint’s voice perked up, “It’s the Guardian and her Ghost!”

“You can call me Joel,” Ghost reminded him, “And Di.”

“New news on Xivu Arath or some wrathborn? A new cryptolith?” Crow’s voice came over the coms and Joel watched Diana pause in her fussing over his shell.

“No,” Diana admitted after a moment of silence. “I’ve...I’ve been given some...a reprieve…” She said slowly, remembering once what Glint had said over coms after a hunt. “But I…” She paused again and the lights inside her mouth dimmed with a sigh. “Could I...Would it bother you if I...used your...nest, for a while?”

“It’s most certainly not a nest.” Crow said a little too quickly. Diana could practically hear the flush to his blue-grey face. “But...why? I thought you would have a place in the tower in the last city?”

“I do, but not everyone understands the need for...alone time.” Diana admitted.

“About your report, could you do this run for me, we should go out tonight, could you sit in on this mission debriefing, we need someone on coms for this vanguard operation, could you help me adjust my sights,” Joel started listening off all the things that had been asked of them when they had returned to the tower the last time. “It’s like it never ends. We used to go hide out on Io when things got like this…”

“I see.” Crow interjected before silence could fall and swallow them up. “You...need a place to breathe for a while. Of course, feel free. I’m...honored that I could help you this way...Guar--”

“Di.” Diana reminded.

“Di…” Crow’s voice was soft, like he was afraid of breaking her name should he say it with too much force. “I’m sorry it’s such a mess, I haven’t been out there in a while and Glint’s a terrible maid.”

“It’s not my fault you keep everything you find that has a little shine to it.” Glint said playfully, hinting at his name.

“It’s not exactly comfortable either, but it works...in a pinch.” Crow continued, ignoring Glint’s jest. “Use it as long as you like.”

“Thanks,” Diana smiled and looked inside the alcove at the small collection of crow’s things. “I owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Crow chuckled softly, “You could have used it and I never would have known. It’s not as if I’m in and out of there a lot these days.”

“Boundaries and Respect are important.” Diana told him firmly. “Guardians and good people a like do not trample over either…” She put a hand to her head and realized how much like Quin she sounded. She shook her metal head and continued. “Want me to get you some time off?” Diana asked as she stepped through the crack that served as the door. “You deserve it as much as I do.”

“Spider wouldn’t allow--”

“Spider won’t know the difference if I tell him I need you in the EDZ to track down Hive movement. Maybe they’re trying to set up a cryptolith here? Savathun did find that piece of the Traveler where we found the new Hawkmoon.”

“Not to mention we could give you a run through on being a Lightbearer. Guardian school if you will. More tips and tricks to make you more effective for Spider.” Joel added, his shell contracting in the way that made Diana say it looked like a smile.

“Time away from Spider,” Diana said in a singsong voice, “Nice hot fires under the stars, good drinks. Stories swapped.” She flopped down on the sleeping bag Crow had left on the concrete slab and regretted it, there was still a bit of debris under it and it hurt. “R and R is just as important to Guardians as it is to non-lightbearers.” She added with a grunt.

“That’s true...I just don’t think Spider would allow it.” Crow sounded defeated, tired and annoyed.

“Well, I am not going back to work for a bit….you think about it and when you want me to, I’ll talk to Spider.” Diana stood and rolled the sleeping bag up, watching how the dust and concrete of the collapsing ceiling was leaving a layer of dust on everything.

“Spider called him.” Glint said in a hushed tone, “I think some time off and not so alone would be good for him. He’s been obsessing over these Cryptoliths. He’s so sad to see the Eliskni that was good to him turn into...wrathborn…”

“He needs time away just as much as we do,” Joel sighed.

“It would be good for him, all he does is talk about work, and when he asks about Guardian things, he feels like such a stranger to it all. I think a fellow Guardian talking to him would make it feel more real, for now its just...stories of something he thinks he doesn’t deserve..” During the pause, Joel and Diana gave a look to one another. Sadness. Fatigue. Guilt. “I’ve been called by Spider, cutting the link. You two have a good rest.”

“Glint--” Joel started to speak but then hesitated. “The line’s dead.” He rotated to see Diana removing rubble from the concrete slab and cleaning it off with her hand. “This place really is a mess...huh?”

“He’s tried to make it his own…” Diana said softly. “It reminds me...of that cave in the Cosmodrome we had when we first started out...Remember?”

“Heh.” Joel floated closer and bobbed before rolling his shell over. “You kept Hive bones until you heard about Dredgen Yor, then you dumped them all over the cliffside and wanted nothing more to do with them.”

“Got rid of the dice I whittled too.” She nodded and replaced the sleeping bag, stretching it out to find it wouldn’t fit, the slab was too short. She glanced around the tiny alcove, at all of Crow’s belongings. A sleeping bag that had holes in it. A pristine Dawning bowl. His death shroud. A hive knight sword from when he save Osiris. A table and chair. A tool chest as tall as her and tools to fill it with. 8 things. He only owned 8 things. Yet the room told so much about him.

He was a repairer. Using things left over and forgotten to serve a new purpose. “It’s almost...poetic...or.” She laughed, “Ironic, whichever you wanna look at it...I guess…”

“What is?” Joel had floated off on his own, inspecting the crack in the wall that filtered in some sunlight from a room beyond the rubble.

“He takes things that are broken or forgotten. Things people don’t think twice about because to them it's used up and gives it new life...new purpose…” She picked up the bowl and placed it on the sleeping bag. “Like a guardian...we were just empty shells until you guys came along.” She smiled at Joel who twitched in silent thought. “You found me, an empty shell. Having used up all my life and been lost to time and the elements and you gave me a purpose. You brought new life into me and told me what I could do to help those around me.” She picked up his death shroud and frowned. “Uldren was a cold hearted bastard of a person.” Her grip tightened on the cloth before she sighed heavily.

“He paid his price. Blood for blood. Eye for an Eye. The debt for Cayde was settled. I know his tapes said he’d be…” She started folding the shroud gently. “Crow was a shell that was tossed away. People were trying to forget...or avoid remembering for the time. Including myself...And Glint gave him new life and purpose. He’s a guardian now. He’s not who he was before. And now he takes things Spider tries to throw away or has forgotten about and makes them into new things.” When the shroud was folded into the shape of a flag, she placed it into the bowl and busied herself cleaning off the slab where it had been placed haphazardly. “He’s just like a Ghost that way. A repairman. An artist..” She recalled the art form he had mentioned before when she saw his nest the first time. “He mentioned an artform with precious metals...do you know what it's called?”

“I hadn’t when he first mentioned it, but I talked to Zavala’s ghost and he knew what it was called, apparently it's called Kintsugi, or kintsukuroi, it’s a Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum.  It treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise.” He paused for a moment and flew a little lower, “Oh, I see what you mean.”

Diana straightened up the room in silence for a while. Dusting everything with her hands as best she could and being as gentle as possible. It didn’t take her long to clean up the room, tossing out the debris into the hall. She looked around and realized it wasn’t cleaning she wanted to do.

“I wanna do something nice for him.” She said out loud, throwing out a fist sized piece of concrete into the hall. “And I don’t mean dusting.” Joel was flying around the room and scanning the area, inspecting the walls and ceiling.

“He doesn’t have a lot does he?” he asked as he came down to her height. “We could get a few things for him.”

“Yeah..spruce the place up a bit...he deserves better than this but…” She glanced at the shroud sticking up from the bowl where she had placed it. “Baby steps.”

“What do you think he would like?” Joel asked.

“Anything is better than this…” she glanced at the mop bucket in the corner, and cringed. “We could get him a sturdy cot to sleep on. A better sleeping bag…” She looked back to his area and tilted her head, “Another table, a chair...we could clear these slabs out.” She kicked at the one he had been using for a bed. “Hang that sword up.” She pointed to the sword as it was propped up against the wall, waiting to topple over. “And a heater…”

“A heater?” Joel asked, spinning back to watch her as she nodded.

“It’ll be snowing soon. If he’s gonna get time off and come stay, then he’s gonna need heat...and some food that won’t spoil…” Her faceplates shifted to show irritation. “The boy doesn’t even have the basic necessities to live on his own. He won’t be under Spider’s four thumbs forever.”

“You think he’s going to let Crow go eventually?” Joel didn’t sound convinced, but when Diana settled her cyan eyes on him, he knew that look. He’d seen it before the battle against Crota...Oryx...Gaul and the darkness. It was what he called her ‘try me’ look.

“Oh he will. And we’re getting that bomb outta Glint too.” She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “Glint doesn’t deserve that treatment, and neither does Crow. The boys are literally as pure as new fallen snow, and Crow’s as green as Venus.”

“I remember when Leland used to say the same about you,” Joel offered softly, flying close to her chest, his sign he wanted to be held in her hands. She obliged him, cradling him gently and stroking his feckle lovingly.

“I’m not gonna comment on that,” she chuckled and planted a kiss on her Ghost’s shell. Going to sit on the sleeping bag. “I guess this means we’re going back to the city after all.”

“What are we gonna tell people who ask what we’re doing?” Joel twitched his shell so he was looking up at Di from her hands she stared longingly at the Dawning bowl.

“That we’re helping out a kinderguardian. They’re new and scared to come to the city. Or that I’m literally burying myself in a hole and making a fuck off bunker so people will leave me alone for once.” She stopped and blinked, “By the light, I sound like Osris now.”

“I like the second one better,” Joel laughed, “It sounds more like you than Osiris.”

Both of them laughed, their voices bouncing off the three and a half walls until it sounded like it would drown all their sorrows. They hadn’t laughed like that in a while. It made Diana sad to realize this. She tried not to look at it, but it was like a living thing staring at her. The death shroud. One of the triangle corners was peeking up from the bowl and taunting her until she stared at it.

“I’m not...weird am I?” She asked Joel, still staring at the white cloth.

“Is that a question you want me to answer honestly, or be serious?” Joel asked with mirth still in his voice.

“No, I mean…” Diana’s tone made Joel twitch in her hands, bringing her attention to him. “I know I didn’t remember anything, not a thing when you brought me back. But you said I’d been dead a long time...I’ve never…” She trailed off and looked toward the floor. “I’ve never run into anyone who recognized me before. But Uldren...he…” She sighed. “He killed dad...I know I said Crow was different and he IS but…” she made a clicking noise. “Sometimes when it gets quiet, and I see him, I can still SEE Uldren there. Does that make me a bad person?” She looked to Joel sadly. “Am I a horrible person because I sometimes still see him inside someone who's new? If Crow didn’t have the same meatsuit...if he’d been changed into an Exo like me when he was first brought back...I woulda never known….I wouldn’t be...questioning myself like this.” She looked to the shroud again. “He’d just be a new guardian. A fellow exo. A nice guy...But I find myself wanting to reach out to him. Be...more than kind to him. To be someone for him and then that moment happens when I don’t see Crow, I see…and then I feel like I’m betraying Dad’s memory by being chummy with the meatsuit that killed my leader...”

“I could tell,” Joel admitted softly, speaking in barely a whisper, as if afraid the truth would cause the ground to swallow them up. “When you two are having a good talk and it gets quiet, I see the way you look at him. It’s kindness and then fear, mixed with guilt.” He twitched again and the eye blinked. The other ear was starting to come loose and Diana peeled it off with a gentle hand. “You’re trying so hard to not hold him accountable for a crime you know Crow didn’t commit. But it’s still the same face. It’s still the same hand.” he blinked again, “It’s a situation I don’t think any other guardian has ever had to face like this before.” Only a heartbeat passed before he added. “I don’t think it makes you a bad person, I think you’re struggling with a situation that no one else has ever had to be in before and you’re doing a lot better than others who have seen his face.” He flew up from her hands and hovered a little ways from her face.

“You loved Cayde like a father, and he was taken from you by someone you didn’t particularly care for when you knew him. Now that person is no more, but their body is still up walking around with someone new inside...sorta. It’s like that pottery thing, he has his scars. His past is part of him, but he has a new life and a new outlook.” he tilted his shell toward the ground. “Uldren hated Guardians, he tried to make our life hell when we had to deal with the awoken. But,” he titled his shell upward and squinched himself into a smile, “I’ve seen Crow absolutely light up when you walk in a room. He’s excited to see you, to work with you. If that’s not proof he’s totally different then I dunno what would be.”

When she didn’t respond he bonked her on the forehead with his feckle and made her blink at him in bewilderment. “Others have outright killed Crow when they saw his face. You didn’t.”

“I tried…” She put a hand on the spot where he hit her. “If Quin hadn’t stopped me...I would have put a bullet in him.”

“Are you glad she stopped you?” Joel asked firmly.

“Yes?” she sounded unsure, when Joel tightened his shell around him she felt like he was glaring at her so she repeated with conviction. “....Yes. I am.”

“Would you put a bullet in him now?” Joel’s voice was hard, he was trying to test her resolve. He already knew he answer, he just needed her to know it.

“No, absolutely not, I’d...” She paused and remembered her fight with Hunter-1, they still hadn’t spoken since they introduced Crow to him. When he tried to murder Crow, even after learning he was a guardian and Uldren no more. Quin had ushered Crow to safety while Diana wrestled with the fellow Exo. He hadn’t looked at her the same since. On Wrathborn hunts he wouldn’t watch her back anymore, and he would ignore her when she spoke to him. “I’d fight those who would try...”

“Then you’re already leaps and bounds ahead of others.” Joel told her with a flip. “And the fact you want to give him what he needs to survive on his own, until he can be accepted as Crow and not as Uldren, shows you have compassion for him.” He tilted his shell halfway, like he was being coy. “And do not think for one millisecond I haven’t seen you smile at him with that same look you used to give Drifter either missy.”

“I. Give. No. Looks.” Diana’s voice was low, gravely, she was willing to die on this hill.

“And I wasn’t born in the Light.” Joel gave a small hummpf sound before flying out of the crack, forcing Diana to follow along behind him if she wanted to argue.

[unprofessional-bard]

Chapter 7 - The Fog, Pt. I

Losing My Religion Series Masterlist

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader/OC

Warnings: Enough with fluff, time for some angst... with smut in flashbacks but detailed enough to satisfy y'all 😌. TW// mentions of suicide, canon typical violence/events, death of a child - overall a lot of blood and gore.

Summary: Things take a dark turn for the reader on patrol one day.

Word Count: 4.119

Author's Note: PLEASE READ!! I'll be moving to another country next week, so my updates might be delayed from time to time... I'm putting a soundtrack from the walking dead below called "The Pulse (I)", the sounds in the beginning (you'll know what I'm talking about once you listen) are what the reader hears; I really didn't know how to describe the sounds so I decided to put the soundtrack there and also linked it on a word when the time comes. Finally, I'm assuming Ellie was born sometime between the end of spring and summer because of the outfits they wore in that cutscene in part ii, so I set this chapter's date to September; wanted Joel to have some nice time with his daughter :")

Enjoy!

Walt made sure to stay away from you after your conversation. You were absolutely shocked and angry - you hated Walt for that, but you could only laugh at the situation when you told Maria what happened. How ironic it all was. You thought maybe if Joel hadn't come along, you could have ended up with Walt but you weren't sure if you'd be as happy with him as you were with Joel. You would've been sad or upset after finding out about this new 'information' if your feelings for Joel weren't this strong, but you were simply glad Walt didn't open up to you before Joel and Ellie came. Your relationship with Walt was damaged for sure now, but it wasn't completely in disrepair.

Joel and you, on the other hand, weren't the type to kiss or hold hands in public. You weren't too sensual with each other in front of others, but behind closed doors, it was a different story. Who would've thought Joel Miller would be a cuddler? It definitely wasn't you, or Tommy or Ellie. Nobody knew for awhile of course, but Tommy eventually caught Joel and you in your kitchen one day, weeks later. He was hugging you from behind and placing sweet kisses on your neck as you tried to focus on the task in front of you, but he was making it significantly hard.

Tommy teased Joel to no end about being a love sick puppy around you and kept asking when the two of you were going to get married. You'd blush and laugh, but you never even thought about marriage in the first place. It had only been around ten months since you two made things official between yourselves, but the idea of labeling it sounded silly at that time- plus, it was still a little early to think about marriage. As Eugene had put it, you were in the sex, beer and rock 'n roll phase of your relationship and you needed more time to figure everything out before settling down together. You two stayed at each other's houses most of the time of course, but still. There were still sides to the both of you that neither of you discovered yet as well.

Sex, beer and rock 'n roll? Well...

"Really? Now?" Joel.

"Yes, now!" You whisper yelled, then slowly sneaked your hand under his shirt and began kissing his neck. "Come on, baby, please? I need you..."

You were leaning against Joel, practically rubbing your whole body against his as you moaned whispered in his ear. Of course, he couldn't help himself when he saw you were this hungry for him, so he gladly obliged.

You kissed Joel's lips softly, but just as you pulled away, he held your neck and kissed you again harshly. You knew, you weren't in for a gentle treatment the moment you felt his hand around your throat lightly. Joel sat you on the desk and spread your legs, settling between your thighs and grabbing them.

"Tommy won't stop bustin' my balls about this if he catches us," Joel grunted.

"He won't- if we're quick enough," You smirked and took his jacket off in a rush. You two were currently at a back room of the ski lodge lookout, where Tommy told you he'd meet you both in half an hour.

"Lay down for me," Joel growled and pulled your pants down to your knees while you did as he told you, getting support from your elbows as he slowly unbuckled his belt. Your arousal was present ever since you woke up from a rather naughty dream in the morning. You didn't say or do anything about it, hoping that it'll go away throughout the day. Guess what? It didn't and here you were, Joel between your wide open legs and pumping his cock while teasing you with his other hand. You wouldn't say you had sex too often like rabbits, but you had sex when there was a mutual tension between you that needed to be subsided and it was so perfect every time.

Today though? You were just horny for the man and the hunger in your eyes was enough for a tent to build up in Joel's pants.

Your wetness was a natural lubricant for his easy entrance into you. He absolutely loved you around his cock, the way your walls took him in and clamped down around his length and, of course, the noises you made.

Joel stepped over the barrier made by your pants, grabbed your hips and set off with a fast, brutal pace. Your arms shook as they struggled to keep you up, sweat trickling down your forehead and finally gave out, making you lay down completely. He leaned down to kiss your neck, hips snapping into yours and stroking all the right places in fast motions. He pulled your v-neck blouse up just above your breasts and his teeth immediately met with your hardened nipples, making you moan loudly.

"Shh," Joel chuckled. "It's like you want us to get caught, baby."

Your giggles soon turned to high pitched whines of his name, his fast and rough pace gave you an indescribable amount of pleasure. The table you were currently spread across on began hitting the wall behind you louder and louder with each thrust along with his skin slapping against yours but neither of you were in a state of mind to care.

"Oh Joel!" You cried out, holding onto his arms for dear life as he fucked the living out of you.

Joel growled - you would've thought he was angry if you weren't in this situation right now: "Fuck, (Y/N)-"

A few profanities and thrusts later, you came undone a moment before he pulled out and with a couple of strokes, came on your inner thigh. You thought you'd seen stars as your legs twitched, hanging off the table. Joel collapsed on your body and you two stood like that, trembling and trying to catch your breaths.

"That- that was-" Joel tried to speak.

"Mind blowing?" You chuckled.

"That's one word to describe it," Joel slowly pushed himself up and placed a kiss on your forehead, helping you up.

No one ever caught the two of you in the act, of course. You two were incredibly careful while teasing one another in public - it could be a look, a smirk, the slightest spreading of his or your legs, a touch, a word- anything would be so carefully executed that nobody would even notice. After sex, your mind lingered too long on Joel and that usually wasn't good because it sometimes led to daydreaming while doing chores in town. Not on patrol, of course, but this one morning Joel had fucked you so good, you couldn't help but spend the rest of the day aching for more.

You were still a little sleepy so you let him have it his way. He took off whatever clothing he had on him and stripped you of yours, then spread your legs open: "Ain't you the loveliest little thing when you wake up..."

You grinned at him, stretching as he kissed your belly once, then proceeded to eat you out like a man who hadn't eaten in days. He took his time and didn't rush anything, earning soft gasps from you with his skillful tongue: "Oh god, Joel-"

One of your hands went through his hair while the other was on your forehead as if you were about to faint. Your cheeks were burning, his hands had a tight grip on your waist so he could keep you from wiggling out of his touch. This was pleasure in its purest form, you thought. The sight of him buried between your legs were absolutely delicious and the feeling even more so. He didn't let you come, however. Instead he sat on the bed and licked his lips: "Turn around for me, baby."

You whined at the loss of contact but did as he asked. He got on top of you, then caressed and massaged your back and kissed down your spine as his hands moved lower to your rear: "You ready for me, doll?"

"Yes," You sighed dreamily, a light smile on your lips. Joel pushed your legs together and you felt the bed dip on each side. He was hovering over you on his knees: Slowly, he pushed into you, almost moaning at the feeling of how tight you felt around him. You were already a mess by the time he was buried to the hilt. He fucked you thoroughly and slowly - he had all the time in the world and didn't want to rush anything. You liked it when he was taking his time, it extended your orgasm to it's limit but this position was about to see to a quick end on both sides.

He gently grabbed your chin and pulled your head up so he could tease your lips with his. You were on your elbows and moaning softly, whining when he didn't kiss you: "Joel..."

A quiet chuckle left his lips: "You want a kiss?"

You simply nodded and moaned instead of answering when his pace got faster. He gave you your kiss, your jaw in his careful grasp and fucked you until you came with a high pitched moan. Joel came on your rear, finishing with a long, hushed groan.

Those two and your first time with each other were the best sex you two ever had, you both agreed on it during a drunken chat.

Joel wasn't too hard to handle. During his time in Jackson and then his time with you and Ellie had really helped him open up and get comfortable with his emotions around people he let in. He hardly ever got jealous, but the way he got jealous would be sweet rather than a mood killer.

"I'm real lucky to have the most beautiful woman in town all for myself," He'd say, before kissing your brow and putting his arm around your waist. You enjoyed it, being his. New arrivals who'd try their chances with you would instantly know that you were 'his gal' and he was your man. You two really helped one another fit better in Jackson - you socialized with others and got to be vulnerable around each other. You taught him how to love again and he taught you over and over that all hope wasn't lost.

Until September 23rd, 2035. A date you'll never quite forget.

Red, orange and brown leaves had fallen off trees and blanketed the soil you and Joel were walking on. You two were set off to patrol a new place Tommy and Joel had discovered a few days back and it needed clearing from the infected. There was also a child, Miles, missing along with his father Samuel. They'd been missing for four days now and your thoughts were very troubled because of it, ever since their disappearance was announced. You really liked Miles, a sweet twelve year old boy he was.

"Doll, you okay?" Joel gave you a concerned look. Your grip on your rifle was hard and you had zoned out apparently, missing everything Joel had been talking about.

"Yeah," You nodded. The sun was shining through the trees and right onto Joel's beautiful face, which made you smile. "I wish we had a camera."

"I heard Tommy found one, he said someone was working on it this morning," Joel replied. "Why'd you ask?"

"You look so beautiful like this- and we don't have a picture together."

"Yeah, you're right," He nodded. "We'll be the first ones to use it, I promise you... I actually want a picture of me and Ellie too."

The way he loved Ellie like he did Sarah made your heart break. He had mentioned how he was absolutely destroyed and almost took his own life after her passing, also the story of how him and Ellie came across two brothers, Sam and Henry, before they found you which turned you into a concerned mother duck around the kids in Jackson and more of a wife to Joel than a girlfriend.

"Yeah, I want a lot of pictures with a lot of people: With the kids, Maria, Tommy, even Eugene!" You chuckled and made him laugh, but suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you saw two bodies lying on the ground and a third one away from them. "Joel, look."

Joel's smile immediately dropped at the sight. You two shared a look before you got in position and carefully walked over to the bodies with your rifle pointed at them, Joel right behind you. The closer you got, you noticed how there was a third body under the other two. You didn't recognise any of them, so you carefully leaned down and moved one of them away to see an awful scene in front of you.

"Oh god, Miles?" You whispered. His eyes opened slowly and you immediately moved the corpses off him.

"Miss (Y/N)?" Miles' voice cracked.

"It's alright Miles- It's me, I got you-"

"(Y/N)," Joel called over to where the third body was, only to see Samuel lying on his face.

You gave him a devastated look, but stopped Miles from seeing his father's body and picked him up bridal style: "Good god, how long have you been here, darling?"

"A few hours?" Miles held onto you while Joel was trying to figure out a way on how to get Samuel's body back to town. "You need to be careful miss, those men could be still here."

"What men?"

"The men that attacked us," Miles continued. "My pa thought they were bandits, but they wer-"

Blam!

You didn't understand what happened first. Blood got into your eyes and splattered all over your face - an incredible force almost pushed Miles out of your hold but your grip stopped him from falling.

"Dolly!" You heard Joel yell, but you couldn't open your eyes, too much blood-

You wiped your eyes on your arm as best as you could with Miles in them, but when you finally managed to open your eyes, you almost screamed: There were two holes on the sides of Miles' head and a bullet, covered in blood, on the ground.

"Oh- Oh god," You trembled, you couldn't take your eyes off the poor boy's head, but Joel pushed you on the ground suddenly and saved you from another bullet.

"Take cover- run!" Joel yelled, pushing you in the direction of a huge rock only a few feet away from you. You reluctantly let go of Miles' body and ran with him. Once behind the cover, Joel whispered: "Dolly- Dolly are you okay?"

You sure as shit were not, your face looked like the statement too.

"You heard the boss: Bring the woman alive, get rid of the other one!" A shiver went down your spine. Who the hell were they? Was FEDRA finally caught up to you?

"Oh fuck," You tried to breathe, wiping at your face. "Joel-"

"I'm right here darlin' but you gotta focus, we need to get outta here," Joel held your face between his hands. "C'mon (Y/N), focus."

You took a few deep breaths and concentrated. You heard about seven to eight footsteps beginning to surround you. You readied your rifle and Joel did the same, but before attacking, you threw a smoke bomb right onto a man who was the closest to your position, then moved in his direction as a smoke cloud hid your movements. This gave Joel time to cover you as you killed the first man, bullets flying in your direction. You quickly jumped back to your cover, a bullet barely slicing through the flesh of your leg as you landed beside Joel.

"Please tell me you have a nail bomb," You whined.

"Always," Joel said before sending it off to where three of the men were, the shards embedding themselves into their skin and making them cry out in pain. Quickly taking the chance, you fired at the men until you ran out of bullets. You took out Kurt's your knife and advanced at another man with a baseball bat in his hand. You were quicker with a knife - it took you almost five seconds to cut open the man's vital veins and have him collapse onto the ground. Just as you were about to turn around to see where Joel was, you felt someone grab you by the waist and slam you to the ground.

"Oof!" You immediately collected yourself and swung the blade to your opponent's throat, but he grabbed your wrist and rolled you and himself over, pushing himself away from you. You quickly got up on your knees and reached for your blade when the same hand caught your wrist once more. You were, once again, mortified at the sight in front of you: "Gabe?!"

"Hiya commander," Gabe growled in despise and headbutted you, completely taking advantage of how off guard you were.

"Fuck!" You cried out and kicked him in the face before he could get to you when you collapsed. While you two were on the floor, making sure your bones weren't broken, Joel was shooting his way to you. He was going hand to hand with a man who's neck was going to be broken by the heel of Joel's boots in a matter of seconds. You stumbled but got up and immediately got on top of Gabe with your knife in hand. You went to stab him in the throat but his arms blocked you from doing so.

"(Y/N)!" Joel pointed his gun at Gabe, but was interrupted by another man suddenly tackling him.

Your vision was red - you were like a raging bull, wanting nothing more than to kill Gabe for what he had done. You were angry at yourself too, mostly at yourself but he still played a part in getting your family killed. You couldn't even hear your surroundings anymore as you repeatedly hit and forced your knife holding hand down to his throat while grunting angrily.

Another unexpected move from him had your back slamming onto the ground with his ankles wrapped around your throat. How the hell- Since when was he this flexible?!

You gasped for air with a loud cry, drawing a distressed Joel's attention back to you. You were scared now, actually scared because of the move Gabe pulled, so your survival instincts kicked in with full effect. The tip of your boot met with his jaw, hard, as soon as it got free from under your thigh. The moment you felt his lock weaken around your throat, you rolled back, grabbed his leg before he could recollect himself and with everything you had, struck his knee with your elbow. Gabe screamed and kicked you with his fine leg, but he was weak and you kept striking the same spot, crushing his bone ferociously.

"(Y/N)!" Joel pulled you away from your shoulders, but you pushed him off with your back. "(Y/N), stop!"

You grabbed Gabe's throat, nails digging into his skin and pressed him down: "Got you, you fucking rat."

"(Y/N)-"

You ignored Joel and choked Gabe to his death: "Is there more of you, huh? Where is he?!"

"You'll be seeing him-" Gabe choked out, struggling against your grip. "Very soon."

"We need to move!" Joel pulled you off of him, but you pushed him away with your hands.

"Fine," You replied through your teeth after calming down. You gave a final look at Gabe and when you saw a shit eating grin on his face, you, with the speed of light, leaned down and grabbed your knife, then shoved it through his throat with a roar. You looked him dead in the eyes as he choked on his own blood and died.

"(Y/N)..." Joel's eyes were wide as he watched you wipe the blood on your knife on Gabe's jeans. You got up, more blood smeared on your face and jacket, but just as you began walking away, you heard more footsteps from inside the woods.

"Shit, hide," You kneeled and took cover behind a fallen tree, Joel right beside you.

"Who are they?" Joel whispered as you reloaded your rifle with a hard look on your face.

"People I thought were dead," You replied, not looking into his eyes. "They escaped me once and I paid dearly because of it. I'm not leaving until they're dead."

"No, we can leave now and come back with Tommy and other's-"

"And let these assholes find out where we live and terrorize the town?" You growled angrily. "Let's make one thing clear: I'm not letting anymore people die because of stupid mistakes I make. This ends. Now."

You discreetly scanned your surroundings: There were, once more, around eight men searching the area for you two. You took a deep breath and sneaked off to take down your first target. Joel was really tense but still carried out his fair share of executions until one of the men saw you and alerted the rest, bullets flying in the air. Most of the men were already down, but suddenly more men filled the area. Where the hell are they coming from?!

You were more than willing to take him up on that offer, but you obviously didn't trust him: "You think I'm dumb enough to believe you'll stay true to your word, you son of a whore?!"

"Hold your fire!" A very, very familiar British accent that haunted you to this day reached your ears and your eyes went wide. "Oh (Y/N)~" He sang and called for you. "Are you still alive, sweetheart?" You gulped and tried to breathe, a sound lightly ringing in your ear the more he talked: "I know you're out there, I have an offer for you: Come with me now and I'll leave your friend alone."

"Come now, my mother flipped in her grave because of you and your team too many times already, poor woman..." You peeked at him from behind your cover carefully as he continued: "Oh for god's sake- bring him out!"

You watched in horror as two men dragged Joel out to the open from his arms. When did he even get captured?! God, you thought, I was so blinded by revenge I couldn't protect him.

"Dear lord above," The man chuckled, quite shocked. "I never thought I'd see you again."

What?

Joel remained quiet even after the men pushed him onto the ground, then the leader pulled out his pistol and pushed the tip against Joel's head: "Alright, new deal: If you don't come out in the next three seconds, I'll blow his bloody head off."

"Alright, stop!" You immediately got up, desperation taking over you. "Here I am, let him go."

"Now, why should I do that?" The man snorted. "He betrayed me and ran off to be a goddamn smuggler, I should just blow his head off."

"No!" You yelled, your voice cracking. "He has a daughter and a wife- your deal is with me, let him go."

Joel looked up at you as best as he could while his head was pressed on the ground. You couldn't believe he, your lover, used to run with them- with him.

"Are you possibly the wife you spoke of?" The man grinned at you.

"No, you imbecile-!" You lied through your teeth and he seemed to be buying it so far. "You've already destroyed enough families, just let the man go... You'll be satisfied enough while killing me."

"You're quite right," The man nodded thoughtfully. "I'll enjoy ripping you apart... But you know what? Since you're cooperating with me so nicely and, well, since he used to be my second in command -brothers in arms and whatnot- I'll spare him."

You exhaled in relief, not letting it creep up into your expression however. Suddenly, he kicked Joel in the nose and knocked him out: "In two hours, I'll send a man here and if he's still knocked out, I'm going to kill him."

You knew Joel would be up in less than two hours, so you kept quiet and stared at the man, hard. There's got to be a way out of this...

"Well, shall we?" The man snapped his fingers at someone behind you and they kicked the back of your knee to bring you on your knees while your hands were behind your head. The man took your rifle from you and with the back of it, hit you in the head, making your vision go black.

[antopc]

Jeff and Brittas great year Lol also to me they are no Ross and Rachel. THEY ARE ELLIOT AND JD!!! Super WARNING VERY LONG POST AND NO POTATOES :/

BUT IF YOU DO GIVE ME TIME TO READ IT I WOULD LOVE TO KNOW YOUR OPINION!

And yes u have seen what Dan Harmon has to say about Jeff and Annie, but theres more to it i think plus other writers.

I want a movie where Jeff and Britta end up together lol I have watched and rewatched the show for the past month on repeat, eventually focusing on relationship patterns (Annie/Jeff, Abed/Annie, Britta/Jeff). I understand that maybe up to the point the show ended Jeff might have finally accepted Annie as someone he loves, I am not fan of the age gap, but its understandable, their moments were sweet and unexpected. Jeff and Annie became better because of each other yes, but so they did with everyone. They are a community afterall. It was sweet but to me their relationship was a coming of age for both Jeff and Annie, she has a crush on him, or at least she is reacting to the way one would at 18/19 if you meet someone like Jeff who seems as a cool dude leader. And I mean, have you seen him? WOW HE HOT (with all fue respect) As he says there might be sexual tension and chemistry (he has it with everyone) and it makes sense in a life situation, who hasnt question at some point if a friendship might mean more than something platonic. The cool thing is when even if you crossed the barrier, and it doesnt work out, you can cross the barrier and can cross back, still loving each other as friends, and can be cool, cool cool cool. Seeing them together was nice and all, it just seem purely platonic. At least from Jeff's side. I dont think he sees her as a sister, but as someone who he wants to protect. And someone who reminds him of being young (specially season 6)

Towards season 6 Jeff is more mature in many ways, plus he has a beard, he has a somewhat stable life, and when Annie announces that she is going is a break of that part of his life that has been since s1. Now, it isnt until Abed announces his departure that you could see Jeffs balance shatter, because it is evident things are going to change for real. At that point he realizes that he loves Annie (or ay least doesnt see her as a child anymore) and does see her as something more, but to portray his growth as a person he is not going to pursue her (as Jeff Winger would) instead letting her fly. The kiss was a closure statent of their matured selves, now she is ready to leave the nest and get that record full of adventures, same as Abed. Joel Mchale was AMAZING! The way he portrays emotion touches your heart which i believe makes up for at least 85% of the sentimental beauty of this scene.Which is closing in a perfect circle as he was also seen by the group as someone who needed to be protected (not exactly but yall know what I mean).

Now lets talk about why Abed and Annie, Jeff and Britta. As mentioned before I have been picking up patterns and rewatching the show, Abed/Annie, he might say she is Chandler and he is Phoebe but i think he is trying to use a red herring, i feel like Abed is Chandler and Annie , she is Monica all over (and if anything Chandler was supposed to end up with Phoebe, im sure Abed knows that!) . There are many instances of flirty looks between them, the milestones they pass, their time as housemates, their kiss was OMG the build up of their friendship/relationship, 'stolen looks', specially things Abed say, their dance at paintball. I too want to add that on the Darkest Timeline Jeff and Annie are together.. is that the darkest timeline in Abed's head? This show tends to be Meta mostly through Abed.

Lets talk about my favorite ship Britta and Jeff. First of all why would people day there is no chemistry? Their episodes are so meaningfull, through the series Britta is the one that is there with Jeff through his toughest (his dad, his narcissistic day, and days,) she is there to call him on his BS. She helps the group come to.terms with growing up (Spanish 101 she made everyone realize, specially Jeff why Pierce was acting so needy toward him) and being better, yes she is human and makes mistakesspecially when Dan Harmon was there s1-3 when she is strong, witty, smart, caring and the heart of the group while Jeff is the Brainz). Jeff is the one person she admits not being perfect, they see their true colors, know them and also see that as humans they are trying to better the quality of such colors. They do make each other better humans. The way they interact with each other is of someone who knows everything about the other person and still loves them. yes people we have to admit just like with the group there is true appreciation and love between these two. They banter all the time, they are always play full and to me that is something you do with a soulmate. I feel like we were played into thinking they were not endgame to surprise the audience, avoid cliché. Abed calls it first, saying that they prevent them to being friends, theyn in s5 he says to Annie that it wouldnt last more than 6 episodes. But but but despute this when he is in Abeds show in S4 when Jeff and Britta were presented there was an insinuation they were a couple (they were kissing).

Moreover the group was obsessed with them, when discovering they where secretly doing it they put they blame of the years events on them. Its a pattern that return, so it feels like for the sake of the group they stay apart. It is true that they always pick on each other, and they act very guarded towards each other. Their bickering reminds me middle school picking on the kid you like because you dont know how to handle it. It makes sense s1 Jeff finds Britta attractive (I mean, have you seen her?) and wants to do her, so of course she puts her guard up, specially after the events of the first 2 episodes. She knows she only wants her for sex, but Jeff is seen having small moments in which you feel his affection for Britta grow. When she dates Vaughn he gets crushed after seeing her kiss him, even more after she tells him they septiembre together, it even seem like it was the first time that happened to Jeff. Now he starts being guarded, he doesn't want to get hurt, Jeff dates Slatter, and Britta finally accepts she has some affection for Jeff ( the way she reacted when he gives her the flowers.). To me their scenes are filled with sweet flirty, lovey glances. Even after they made Britta dirty (for God's sake the writers made her poop her pants in front of the group ):( there was always something there. If you watch s2 with the knowledge that they have been doing it, they seem pretty content, when seen together you can tell there is something relationshipy and sweet between them. After the group makes a big deal abou them Jeff says they have hooked up a couple of times, later seasons Britta says they dated (which Jeff denies), Jeff refered to Britta as his former lover to Duncan, when emails are leaked he admitts they did date (when we were dating), finally when they are tricking the grifter Britta refers to him as exboyfriend quite the egghunt there.

Towards the end of the episode Britta reacts big to Jeff/Annie will they might they (that following the post I love you kiss). Jeff has admitted that he still has some desires towards her (the hand episode) and when she is being loved by her former anarchist friends, he admits that her being liked turns him on. Is this why there is such a big necessity to put her down? They both are in defense mechanism, I feel that they saw each other as more but were not going to admit it for everything that it would entail with the group, and with each other (it would give leverage, which could be wrongly used) I feel they are afraid of being hurt by each other again, and look like fools. That also explains why they couldnt give it a chance. Again many moments, secret inuendos, touching, hugs (you have to look for them , you you will find them).

I would love to see a movie in which Jeff and Britta are together. Fast forward 5-6 years (maybe Jeff tried it with Annie for a bit and she got a bigger job out of state or country.) Maybe Britta and Jeff also gave each other a chance for a bigger bit. I would love to see a Mature S1 Britta, sassy, witty, passionate, someone who is a great psychologist and activist for womens rights in Guatemala or something) working for an american NPO. Some crazy community adventure in which the Annie Jeff will be teased but close as friendship, opening the Abed Annie ship. It would be cool to see her going back to Guatemala (or spanish speaking country), reading something, Jeff approaching, and her tryibg to avoid some 'stranger hitting on her' pretends to only speak spanish, to which Jeff responds something in the same language. To me Jeff and Britta make more sense than Annie and Jeff, JB usuLly hang, give each other advice and a hard ass time, with Annie I dont really see them interacting aside from the group at least not in a romantic way... JA have a crush on each other.

***** in S5 'Basic Sandwich' (Dan was back) during the celebration J/B banter and I quote

'-Jeff: That's it! The marriage is off!

-Britta: Dont you mean the WEDDING IS OFF?

-Both: Yeah! (high five)

Maybe him proposing, and having a surprise wedding ending with everyone, bringing it full circle. What we leave with. I know its too long I have no potatoes, but I do have hope, and the advice of rewatching it with some consideration of the points I attempted to make..

My personal opinion

I understand if you dont agree, but hey anything is possible just roll the dice.

#letsmakethisviral #community #sixseasonsandamovie #greendale #brittaperry #jeffwinger #jeffandbritta #thedarkesttimeline

[derl30]

ALTERED STATES REVIEW TIME!

OK, this tumblr is, today, a vehicle for me to review ALTERED STATES. And you (the one person who stumbled on this review two-hundred years from n- oh who am I kidding, when the aliens from A.I. who show up to thaw out Haley Joel Osment and the teddy bear who was the real hero of that movie find this) should be very excited about this. Because this movie is insane. And highly entertaining.

Yes, the movie poster looks like ass. If I told you this was a movie where William Hurt (not the William Hurt from that awful 90's Lost in Space remake, or the one who slept through an entire performance as Duke Leto in the Syfy miniseries of Dune. This is before the body snatchers got him) took ayahuasca and got in a isolation tank and it blew his mind so hard he started devolving into a neanderthal and creating dimensional portals and he couldn't stop because he was addicted to finding the truth of existence... Well you wouldn't get that from this poster, would you? So let's move on. Shall we?

The film opens in 1967 with William Hurt's character, psychopathologist Edward Jessup, already immersed in a sensory deprivation tank, whilst his colleague and “buddy” Bob Balaban (he's just Bob Balaban in everything I'm not giving you his character's name look it up yourself if it's bugging you so much) oversees.

Now, you may notice I put buddy in quotes. The reason for that is that Jessup is a self-obsessed ass who seemingly has no reason to be around other people unless he can expound to them one of his various monologues. Bob Balaban barely gets a word in edgewise throughout the entire film. Bob Balaban.

See, Jessup loves the sensory deprivation tank experience. Unsurprisingly, as it allows him to be completely alone with himself for hours.

Later, at perhaps the lamest party ever, a bunch of faculty are chilling out and listening to the Doors. Everyone we see is talking about Jessup. Why? Well, much as Jessup is obsessed with himself, everyone else seems to follow suit by being obsessed with him. One young woman, Emily, (Blair Brown) is introduced to him in this very shot below as he arrives at the party:

Notice how is framed in holy light? There is a closeup after, of him framed in blinding glowing light followed up with a zoom in on Emily's face, enraptured with this incredible dynamic man. So much so that the moment he tries to make a goddamn sandwich she starts grabbing his celery (get your mind out of the gutter) and flirting with him. Which for these two that means talking science, immediately. Talking more at each other than with each other. This is often the way with Paddy Chayefsky's scripts.

PAUSE

Paddy Chayefsky is doubtless one of the great American writers for the screen. He wrote Marty, The Hospital and Network (which is a fucking incredible piece of work). He got an Oscar for all three. He also wrote this movie (Altered States, remember? Good lord) and disowned it completely three weeks in to production. His scripts tend to have very intelligent, driven characters at the center, who monologue extensively at each other. These scripts are not attempting to sound naturalistic.

Ken Russell, however, directed the film. He, like Chayefsky, is top notch at what he does (Direct. I said he directed the film like a second ago, come on keep up). His films, like Women in Love, The Devils, (which was banned in several major countries upon release and has never been shown publicly in its full, uncut form (by the way it's a masterpiece)) the Who's Tommy, Gothic, and Lair of the White Worm are all fucking gonzo nuts. I mean like, when you gave this guy the reins, you were going to Overthetopsville and there will be no stops on this trip. And god bless! I love directors who GO for it!

You're getting the chance to make a movie. Stop hemming and hawing and hit me over the head with what you want to say! Film is a visual medium, USE IT!

I feel I might have made my feelings clear here. So, moving on...

Ken Russell and Paddy Chayefsky immediately started butting heads, right from the start. Chayefsky was a BIG deal, and he wanted control over the picture in a BIG way. Ken would listen to his suggestions on everything to lighting and set dressing, and politely tell him, “No.”, and continue being the director of the film. Chayefsky hated him pretty quickly.

He had much more control over films like The Hospital. Which, if you watch The Hospital, well, it shows. You've got great actors (George C. Scott, Dame Diana Rigg (Dame may be the greatest official title of all time)) saying great dialogue. But its just two very witty bitter people sort of expounding on topics and speaking at each other and suddenly admitting they are in love and discussing what drapes they will have to buy for their new home. It's utterly preposterous, and it doesn't work in the way Sidney Lumet got it to work in Network, by literally making one of the lead characters realize his life is turning into a ludicrous soap opera.

So of course Ken tried to humanize, naturalize, the dialogue sequences. And it works! The film feels more human than the Hospital or Network. Despite the fact that Jessup is literally becoming more and more inhuman throughout the film. One of the ways he does this is by having the character's eat, drink, and work on other things during the dialogue sequences. This is perfectly normal in film, it's called giving the actor “business” to do, during the scene. Chayefsky HATED this. “They are mumbling my precious dialogue! Chewing through it! Sucking it through a straw!” Sorry, Chayefsky buddy. It works for the picture. Chayefsky also felt the actors were too emotional with his dialogue. Right. See, they call that acting.

UNPAUSE

Which brings us back to the first meeting of Emily and Jessup at the party. They are eating during this important scene! I can just picture Chayefsky seeing this, and running to the studio brass to tattle and get Ken Russell fired (as he got Arthur Penn of Bonnie and Clyde fame fired before Ken Russell came on board).

Emily and Jessup are, true to Chayefsky form, extremely intelligent, driven people and hearing them discuss topics such as anthropology and schizophrenia is quite interesting. It's just that what is to come, film being a visual medium, will eclipse just about any dialogue, no matter how good, from our mind thingys.

The two give up on the science talk and go straight to banging on her couch. After, she asks what he was thinking about. His answer is priceless. “God. Jesus. Crucifixions.”

She smiles.

Bwahahaha! Oh Paddy Chayefsky, you sure know women.

He admits he used to have religious visions. She listens to him from the sweaty couch whilst he sits naked on the floor, and starts going on about his father's horrible death of cancer and his loss of faith. And he admits to her that he's a nut. Her response is to call him a fascinating bastard. I think Lucas may have taken notes for Padme and Anakin.

So naturally, they get married immediately.

But none of that matters because Jessup gets back in the sensory deprivation tank and has his first vision. A nightmare of his dying father and lost faith in christianity. It's pretty great, filled with foreboding hospital rooms, his father's face being covered in a burning Shroud of Turin, everything covered by horrible blood red clouds and then THIS FUCKING THING SHOWS UP AND ITS ALIVE AND WRIGGLING

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

excuse me...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

The many-eyed goat is slaughtered over a gold bible and suddenly Jessups screwing Emily again and we enter a blood vessel looking thing and the vision ends and he never mentions this again. Oh. Okay,

Emily continues on about what a nut Jessup is as they make marriage plans. Her monologue:

“You're an unmitigated madman. You don't have to tell me how weird you are. I know how weird you are. I'm the girl in your bed the past two months. Even sex is a mystical experience for you. You carry on like a flagellant... Which can be very nice, but I sometimes wonder if it's me that's being made love to. I feel like I'm being harpooned by some raging monk in the act of receiving God. (Emphasis mine)

"And you are a Faust-freak Eddie! You'd sell your soul to find the great truth. Well, human life doesn't have great truths. We're born in doubt. We spend our lives persuading ourselves we're alive. And one way we do that is we love each other, like I love you. I can't imagine living without you. So let's get married, and if it turns out to be a disaster, it'll be a disaster.”

It's a disaster.

As in, by the next scene. It starts off happy enough looking, they have kids and people are smiling. And hey, wow it's seven years later! But, well, see, whoops, they are getting a divorce. Well, not they. See, he is divorcing her because he considers the seven years with her a complete waste.

She still loves him, desperately. He doesn't give a shit about her or the kids. He tells Bob Balaban this, straight up. And then starts bugging him about deprivation tanks and Hinchi Indians in South America who have sacred mushrooms that can really fuck you up.

It's at this point you would like for Jessup to be hit by a Mack truck. But the movie continues on. By the way, this is one of the kids he doesn't give a crap about:

That's right. Drew Barrymore's first role is a kid that William Hurt doesn't give a shit about. Something that William Hurt would make a career out of with narcoleptic performances in Lost in Space and Syfy's Dune. So, Emily takes the kids to Africa for her anthropology work while Jessup goes to South America to go deeper into his own creepy mind.

The Hinchi Indians agree to allow him to participate in the drug ritual. They enter their holy cave.

This shot is beautiful. At this point the film becomes increasingly gorgeous. Ken Russell has started to go into overdrive, ladies and gentlemen. Buckle. Your. Seatbelts.

The Indians grab Jessup's hand and cut him, freaking him out. They pour his blood into the drug mixture. They begin to drink. Then he takes a sip. The intensity of the film here has quadrupled. The vision begins, fireworks going off all around him. He sees cave paintings of humans and komodo dragons and this:

The proper life he left behind with Emily. He's convulsing, sweating. The Indians are all around, masked. Snakes. He's laughing in pain. Energy spills from the void. A snake under the parasol strikes and begins to strangle him. He and Emily march toward a nuclear explosion as energy pours from the cut on his hand, becoming a lizard. From within a sandstorm, Emily watches him, naked. Jessup looks at her, entranced, as the soothing sands cover them both, slowly.

It's a beautiful sequence. A perfect film sequence. I can't overstate how strong the vision sequences are from this point forward. Great visual effects work and the madman mind of Ken Russell create something unforgettable, with it's own pace, independent from the rest of the film.

Jessup awakens with a komodo dragon laying before him, ripped to pieces. The Indians and the others all claim he killed it in rage. Jessup remembers nothing, takes samples of the drug to reproduce it, and goes back home.

Back home, Jessup keeps doing as much of the drug as he can and having Bob Balaban record results. They can't up the dosage any more so Jessup hops back in to the self deprivation tank to create a more extreme experience.

In his next session, Jessup states he is having a vision of early man, hunting a deer and killing it. Suddenly he states he is one of them, killing the deer. He begins to grunt like an animal. The two pull him out. He's incredibly pale, blood seeping out of his mouth. He can't speak, and has difficulty breathing. He insists they do an X-ray. It shows that there is a vocalizing lump in the front part of his throat. Jessup claims that his body had begun to revert to a simian state. The medical doctor agrees, stating the throat X-rays looks like that of a gorilla.

Luckily his throat returns to normal. So Jessup finishes up his day by having over a student of his and sleeping with her.

Our hero, people!

At this point we hardly feel sorry for him as his body suddenly begins to twist and bulge in the middle of the night, shifting in and out of neanderthal shapes. It's a horrific sequence, disturbing as hell. You certainly didn't expect the film to shift into body horror.

Jessup feels normal after a while. but sees visions of lava explosions, the birthing of the Earth all around him. Not a good sign.

He goes to pick up Emily from the airport the next day. She asks how he is doing.

“Oh, fine.”

Yeah right.

Emily has been told what Jessup has been doing and is worried, which of course pisses off Jessup even more. The guy is obviously obsessed with reaching the truth and root of existence, much as Emily surmised earlier, and we see he has no fear of even losing his own soul, again true to her word. The only thing that allows us to give a shit about him at this point is that Emily cares for him and she's decent people, okay?

So back Jessup goes into the tank with his ayahuasca or whatever it is. Alone. The tank door opens from the inside.

The hand that pushes it open is covered in thick hair. He's devolved.

Ape-Jessup escapes the tank room and chases a janitor around the building. Again, this scene is fucking freaky as hell. We can't get a good look at this screaming animal that was Jessup.

The janitor gets a guard to help and chases after him into the boiler room, where we finally get a good look at him when he assaults the security guard and escapes.

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Ape-Jessup runs through the city at night, making his way to the zoo where he kills a antelope and eats it. The Ape-Jessup sequence goes on way too long, but is nonetheless unforgettable. The makeup is much more convincing than the above picture suggests, and whoever performed Ape-Jessup did an admirable job.

The cops find an unconscious Jessup in the zoo and bring him in. Emily picks him up and questions him. Jessup admits everything that he can remember. He also admits that he probably killed that security guard. And once again doesn't seem to give a shit. Prick. He calls it the most supremely satisfying time of his life.

Even Emily seems disgusted with him. But, she's also fascinated with what he's accomplished. As an anthropologist, his transformation fascinates her. And so, she agrees to help oversee his next session. Big mistake.

Before the big session Emily and Jessup romantically reconnect, and then into the climactic session we go!

Get your popcorn ready!

After a few hours in to the session, the video monitor shows Jessup begin to literally melt apart like goo, reverting to primordial ooze, the very beginning of existence. An attempt to open the isolation tank doors blasts everyone unconscious, as light and energy pour forth. Emily is the only one left. She sees Jessup's life energy pulse from within the tank.

Rain pours down around them. The pipes on the walls twist and turn like jelly. The ground is covered with a pool of swirling fog and energy. Emily advances toward the vortex of the tank.

In the emptiness of the beginning of everything, Emily seizes the energy before her and reconstitutes Jessup.

They take him home. While he sleeps, Emily rages over the fact that she loves such a insane bastard, and can't get over him. And, then, after Bob Balaban leaves, leaving Emily alone, Jessup wakes up.

He sweetly admits that the truth he learned was that there was no learnable truth, just unknowable horror, and all that's real is human experience. And he'll be a good boy from now on. Well too bad!

Because that horrible truth isn't done with him, and it's back to goo-Jessup! Emily tries to help him, grabbing him, but this in turn effects her, turning her into a shimmering lava form of herself. Both of them begin to self-destruct as Jessup, enraged, watching her in pain, struggles to retake his humanity, slamming himself into the wall, reforming himself through sheer will and physicality. He grabs her and brings her back, mirroring what she did for him during the final session. They embrace naked in the hallway. He finally admits, “I love you, Emily.”

Fade to credits.

Awww true love!

What can I say to sum up? Awesome 80's practical effects. Genius wacko go-for-it Ken Russell directing. Out of this world vision sequences. A awake and actually remarkable performance from William Hurt. An occasionally turgid but often fascinating script by the ever ornery Paddy Chayefsky. Whats not to like?

Well, the ending is a little rushed. The ape sequence goes on for a little too long and takes up perhaps too much of the films overall running time. The central love story is, well... a little hard to swallow, but hey, I guess there really is somebody out there for everyone. Even self-absorbed, deadbeat, cheating, sensory deprivation loving, ayahuasca dropping, Harvard teachers with a messiah complex!

And on that note, aliens from A.I. Artifical Intelligence, have a good day, and don't leave poor Teddy alone with no one to keep him company!

Sayonara!

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Is It Really THAT Bad?

I’m going to warn you all now. This one is going to get a bit angry at the end. Normally I would try and remain as professional as possible, but in this case, I don’t feel like I would be able to.

Batman & Robin is a film that has lived in infamy since its release in 1997. Upon release, it was critically reviled, and this hatred of the film continued long into the modern day, where it frequently tops “worst films of all time lists” to the point where it actually is listed on the Wikipedia page for “List of films considered the worst.” It was nominated for at least 11 Razzies but only won a single one, and it went on to be a frequent punching bag on the {REDACTED] Critic’s web show, where he would get irrationally angry at the mere mention of the Bat Credit Card. In contemporary reviews, Mick LaSalle of The San Francisco Chronicle stated “"George Clooney is the big zero of the film, and should go down in history as the George Lazenby of the series,” which is less of a criticism and more of a compliment, if I’m being totally honest.

Most of the stars would take a negative stance towards it as well, with legend stating that if you tell George Clooney that you saw the film in theaters, he will refund you for your ticket out of his own pocket. Chris O’Donnell likewise is not particularly fond of the film, stating "It just felt like everything got a little soft the second time. On Batman Forever, I felt like I was making a movie. The second time, I felt like I was making a kid's toy commercial." And, perhaps most depressingly, Joel Schumacher himself was apparently very apologetic for the film, though this may or may not have come about because of years and years of vitriol being directed at him for making this film.

In the wake of Mr. Schumacher’s passing, I decided to re-watch the film, as I am famously rather fond of it, and I am going to tell you all why the answer to the question “Is it really THAT bad?” is a loud, resounding, NO.

THE GOOD

There’s honestly quite a lot to like here, more than you might think. I think first and foremost what you need to understand going in is that this is a silly, cartoonish take on the Burton style, blending the silliness and camp of the West series with the drama and aesthetics of the Burton films, all while adding some over-the-top, colorful flair. John Glover, who appears in the film as a cartoonish mad scientist, even has gone on record as saying "Joel would sit on a crane with a megaphone and yell before each take, 'Remember, everyone, this is a cartoon'. It was hard to act because that kind of set the tone for the film”… the last sentence makes the statement very baffling, but at least even the actors were aware of what they were doing. If this doesn’t sound appealing, well, the opening is sure to warn you off, as it is a suiting up montage with various shots of the firm butts, large codpieces, and stiff batnipples of the Dynamic Duo. The movie is very upfront about what you’re in for.

On the subject of the infamous batnipples, Schumacher stated "I had no idea that putting nipples on the Batsuit and Robin suit were going to spark international headlines. The bodies of the suits come from Ancient Greek statues, which display perfect bodies. They are anatomically correct." It seems a very odd choice, but it’s pretty clear that he meant it as an amusing little design choice and nothing more. Of course, this hasn’t stopped everyone and their mother from spewing homophobic comments about how he was purposefully making the film gayer, even from star George Clooney, who has said that he played Batman as a gay man and was told by Schumacher Batman is gay. It’s so disgusting that people did and continue to do this, because honestly, the costumes are fine, and even if they are meant to be fanservice… so what? O’Donell and Clooney’s asses look nice, as does Alicia Silverstone’s when she dons a suit. The fact hers is just as form-fitting as the other two really shows that the whole idea Schumacher did it because he was gay is ridiculous; the man was very egalitarian about the fanservice in the movie.

Whatever else Clooney says, he does a pretty great job as Batman and Bruce Wayne. His speech at the end of the film where he talks to Mr. Freeze and reminds him that he is a good man and offers to help him is honestly one of the few moments in any Batman film where Batman actually feels like the one from the animated series, a man who fights crime but also wants to help the people he’s trying to stop. Clooney just has a very natural charisma that lends himself to playing a hero, and while there are a few awkward moments in the performance, he captures the fun and charm a more lighthearted Batman should. Michael Gough’s last turn as Alfred is also surprisingly poignant, and a lot of mileage is gotten out of his genuinely tearjerking subplot.

Of course, the very best part of the film is the villains. Uma Thurman is clearly having a ball as Poison Ivy, and she gets to have a ludicrous amount of costumes as well as numerous moments of fanservice. She also has the power to turn every man around her into a simp, which is absolutely amazing and leads to quite a few scenes of Batman and Robin slapping each other over her. But f course, there’s really no doubt that the best part of the film is Mr. Freeze. He’s a combination of the sillier Mr. Freeze from the West days and the more modern take of the character most are familiar with, the tragic anti-villain who wants to save his wife; such a character would take a talented man capable of comedy and drama in equal measure. And who better than Arnold Schwarzenegger? Joel Schumacher wanted a man who looked like he was chiseled from a glacier, and Arnold certainly fits that description. He spends the movie juggling some of the most corny puns you can imagine and a lot of truly powerful, understated drama, and it really does work. You honestly get the sense that Arnold really gets Mr. Freeze and what makes him a great character. Also, that suit he has is amazing.

As a final note: the Bat Credit Card is absolutely not stupid. Linkara has defended it in the past, giving reasons why and how it could actually work, but really, all that needs to be said is… is this any more ridiculous than Shark Repellent Bat Spray?

THE BAD

So don’t get the wrong idea here; this film is far from perfect. As is the case with any comedy, the humor can be hit or miss; not all of the puns land, not all of the jokes are great. You’re never going to get a perfect comedy no matter how hard you try, and this is no exception.

As for performances, I think O’Donnell’s Robin and Silverstone’s Batgirl are a bit wonky. O'Donnell has long been a source of derision for his whining, and while I think the hate is a bit overblown, he does spend a ludicrous amount of time in this film being snippy, miserable, and arrogant. I think he actually fights with Batman more than any of the villains! Still, his performance isn’t horrible, he just gets a bit too whiny at a few points.

Silverstone is a bit of a bigger problem, but she’s not quite as bad as even I remembered. She’s pretty much Batgirl in name only, since she’s related to Alfred in this, but she’s mostly okay. The issue really is that her arc in the film is relatively bland and feels a bit shoehorned, which comes to a head where she fights Poison Ivy in a designated catfight, obviously because they didn’t want Batman to punch a woman in the face I guess. There’s just one issue with that:

On the subject of Ivy, while she definitely does have plant powers here, they’re strangely underplayed. She rarely uses them even when it would probably be beneficial, instead relying on Bane to do most of the fighting for her. Ah, Bane… Bane is one of the few things about this film I can’t really muster up any sort of defense for. While his creation scene is rather cool, it doesn’t lead to much of interest, as this version of Bane is pretty much a mindless supersoldier lackey who serves Poison Ivy. Now, this was still relatively early in Bane’s existence, as he had only debuted in 1993 and was really most famous for his signature “breaking the Bat” move, but it still is baffling why, with that famous thing fresh in everyone’s minds, that they would just choose to go and basically make Bane into Evil Diet Captain America. Surely they could have either saved him for a sequel or utilized him in a way more befitting of the character? I think this Bane is kind of responsible for the negative perception of Bane as this big, dumb bruiser, something that works like The Dark Knight Rises and Arkham Origins have thankfully gone a long way to rectifying. Bane is at his best when he’s a cunning genius bruiser; here, he’s nothing but a glorified prop.

Is It Really THAT Bad?

The answer is no. No it isn’t. AT ALL.

I’ve always felt this film came out at the wrong time. It was towards the end of the 90s, during the Dark Age of Comics when everything was dark, gritty, and edgy. The world didn’t want a movie like this back then; they wanted stuff like Blade, who would come in shortly after this film and show us how to make that aesthetic work. I guess in terms of Batman they wanted something more like Dawn of Justice, which really speaks volumes to how awful the 90s were for superheroes. 

Look, I’m not trying to convince anyone this is the greatest Batman film ever. Even I don’t think that; Batman Returns, The Dark Knight, and Under the Red Hood are all much better films. But is this really the worst Batman film now that we have the deeply misogynistic and disgusting The Killing Joke and the relentlessly bleak and unpleasant Batman v Superman? Hell, it’s not even worse than Batman Forever! At least the Batman in this film has some kind of emotional range beyond “plank of wood!” And even calling it the worst sequel ever is just… so baffling. Again, this is definitely better than Batman Forever, lack of Jim Carrey notwithstanding. And can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that this is worse than any of the Terminator sequels after the second film? Worse than Iron Man 2 or Thor: The Dark World? The almost half dozen Alvin and the Chipmunk sequels? This is only the worst sequel or even a bad sequel if it is the only sequel you’ve ever seen in your life.

A lot of the hate for it from back in the day carries a strong undercurrent of homophobia. Much like the infamous backlash against disco, it’s seriously uncomfortable, and it definitely is cruel how accusatory people were towards Schumacher’s intentions for the suits of the heroes in the film. The fact that even the two main stars have gotten in on it is a bit disgusting, though O’Donnell questioning why there needed to be a codpiece is certainly less offensive than George Clooney saying he played Batman as a gay man for… whatever reason. Was he implying that Batman being gay made the movie worse? I’m not sure what he’s on about there. Even The New Batman Adventures made a cruel dig at the film; notice the sign and the effeminate-looking boy. You could only get homophobia this good in the 90s!

The hatred of this film is absolutely overblown. It’s so ridiculous. #70 on the bottom rated movies of IMDB? #1 on the 50 worst films of all time list from Empire? Doug Walker’s personal punching bag whenever he needs to talk about a bad sequel, to the point where he literally said no one wanted a comedic take on Batman in his worst sequels video? Come the fuck on.

Joel Schumacher may or may not have ended up hating this film, but he certainly was made to feel like shit for making it… and it is honest to god not that bad! But he was just absolutely eviscerated, to the point where this was a fucking headline when he died:

Literally fuck all of these people. Fuck io9 for their insensitive headline. Fuck Empire for rating this as the worst film ever. Fuck Doug Walker for his constant bashing and his shitty old “chimp out over the Bat Credit Card” gag. Double fuck Mick LaSalle for shitting on George Clooney’s performance while also trying to say George Lazenby’s Bond was bad. In fact, fuck George Clooney for his weird idea that playing Batman as gay is a bad thing (sorry George, but I can’t defend this). Fuck the Razzies. Yes, it was nominated, but I just feel it’s always a good time to say “Fuck the Razzies.”

I will never say you have to love or even like this film, but the sheer amount of vitriol and hatred for it is absolutely beyond me. At worst, this film is just a bit too goofy, and at best, it is a fun tribute to the campy days when Batman just couldn’t get rid of a bomb. I didn’t take off my score this time. I’m proud to say I gave this an 8/10, personally. If I’m being honest, a 6.6 – 6.9 is more appropriate, because it does have quite a few issues, but god, this film is not bad at all. It’s silly, goofy, campy, and fun… but bad? Not by any stretch of my imagination. And fuck the critics for convincing an entire generation that this is Batman at his worst, when we have Batman fucking slaughtering his ways through criminals and fucking Barbara Gordon on rooftops these days. I will always take stupid ice puns over misery, murder and creepy intergenerational sex, thank you very much.

I hope you can rest easy, Mr. Schumacher. Maybe you didn’t love your film in the end but, wherever you are, I hope you know I loved it.

[holydragon2808]

The Last of Us Part II: Abby and Plot Review (Sometimes, The Straightforward Approach Really is the Best Way to Execute a Story) MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOTH GAMES!

Yo, fellow gamers and geeks alike! How goes it? Don’t mind me. Just the dragon coming out of her den to rant/review within the realm of geek culture yet again. Since the beginning of The Last of Us Part II’s release, there have been some pretty strong opinions on the plot of the game (to put it lightly….).

I’m still in the middle of completing the game myself, but I’ve pretty much been spoiled the entire story anyway, enough to express my opinion about certain aspects of the game, particularly my feelings on the odd narrative framing choice for what (IMO) should have been a fairly straight forward executed plot line. I was going to wait until I’ve completed the game for myself, but time just doesn’t allow for a lot of gameplay for me at the moment, so I’m writing this review fairly prematurely (though I have watched everything on youtube). I’ll probably post a part II of this review after I finish the story for myself if anything changes.

Anyway, based on what I’ve personally seen and heard (both from personal gameplay and online), my main opinion (so far) is that the ideas, the themes, and the concept behind TLoU II’s story itself are overall decent to me.

However, the way Neil Druckmann and the rest of Naughty Dog chose to frame the narrative is decidedly not.

And a large part of it IMO is how they chose to implement this new character named Abby in the story. Not to mention the over reliance on shock value, and trying too hard to illicit certain emotions and reactions from the player, rather than just trusting the content to steer the narrative and giving the player space to have their own personal experience with the story, something the first game understood and did very well.

Needless to say, there will be MASSIVE SPOILERS for both TLoU I and TLoU II plots from this point onwards. Last chance to back out the den now!

To try and make my point, the original game did a wonderful job of establishing its dark premise, its major characters and getting the player emotionally invested in wanting to know more about both from the outset with a good prologue set up, taking place 20 years before the main time period of the story proper.

During the prologue of the first TLoU, we (as the player) are introduced to (main character) Joel and his cute, young, (but sadly ill-fated) daughter Sarah shortly before the outbreak of the Cordyceps plague. The player gets the opportunity to see Joel at probably his “(moral) best” in the game prior to everything going to hell (and even then the game still establishes the darker parts of his overprotectiveness rather well).

We see him depicted as a very loving and protective father, hardworking, and just generally and average everyday guy (neither “good” or “bad” just “normal”) trying to make a living in the world as he’s talking to his brother (Tommy) on the phone trying to secure a business deal. And then the world begins falling apart at the seams with the trio forced to flee from their now infected neighborhood, doing whatever it takes to get out alive (even if it means now they have to kill other people, something neither probably would have fathom doing prior to the outbreak), setting up a very miserable, but soon to be familiar pattern for them and any other people determined to survive in this devastated world.

Unfortunately, just as they make their way out of the area, Sarah is fatally shot by a soldier tasked with killing any stragglers in an attempt to contain the chaos. And all Joel can do is watch the light leave his “baby girl’s” eyes….

During this short, but very meaningful first hour or so of the game, we have Joel’s dynamic with his biological daughter established (a very fun-loving and healthy and overall heartwarming bond between them), the overall sibling yin-yang world perspectives between Tommy and Joel (how the former is more idealistic and more willing to help others even amidst a crisis, while the latter is cynical, lives more in the moment, and primarily focused on the survival of himself and his closest family) and how those respective character traits subtly foreshadow several major events to come between Tommy and Joel, how and why they eventually drifted apart from one another over the years, as well as the latter’s final choice regarding Ellie and the Fireflies in the finale.

Also by this point, we as the player are invested in these characters from the jump, and have a good idea of what’s going on in the larger scheme of the story (and the direction it’s going….pretty bleak but engaging), and what’s to come so that by the time we’re at the end of the prologue and Joel is getting emotionally shattered by the death of his only daughter, we as the player are right there with him. It was clear that Naughty Dog wanted to make the player sad and emotionally invested in the moment.

The difference in the first game from the second is that the creators seemed more willing to trust their own content to carry and convey the emotional weight of the story and the scene. Shock value is still very much there in the prologue (Sarah’s death was somehow expected and out of nowhere at the same time and it worked because it was just heartbreaking to see such an innocent and nice girl gunned down in her youth), but it’s not the sole driving factor behind the scene itself. Then we jump 20 years into the present day, the world is a very different place and Joel is a very different person.

He’s not the most likable, moral, or friendliest old dude around, but his brutality, his cruelty, his bitter resentment towards humanity over the course of the game is very understandable and the player has been given the time to understand the deeper nuances of his character and establish a bond with him and understand his later feelings and actions regarding Ellie and the Fireflies at the end of the game. His actions certainly weren’t “right” but they were definitely human and understandable.

Well, certainly a lot more understandable/human than it would have been had the game opened with Joel dooming all of humanity from a cure by killing all the doctors with no other context and then trying to force us to empathize with him after the fact.

That’s the problem with Abby’s implementation at the core of the second game’s story, and sadly, it’s enough to mar nearly the entire experience. When Abby first appears, we as the player know nothing about her (and I mean nothing. We don’t even get her name until at least an hour or so after controlling her. That’s not the best introduction for a soon to be major character….).

We get nothing about her, then she kills Joel from the jump (about barely 3 hours into the game), and puts Ellie on a warpath and all of it goes down from there. By this point, we still know nothing about Abby (but hey, at least we as the player get a name before she bashes Joel’s brains in with a golf club). And not only do we not know anything about her, but Naughty Dog didn’t realize that this framing choice effectively prevented the player from wanting to know or care about her as a character.

At this point, later forcing the player to later control her and empathize with her for 10-12 hours is out of the question. She should have remained squarely in the villain role (from Ellie’s point of view). The shock value of Joel’s murder is there as they wanted (whether good or bad is up to the player), but without knowing anything about Abby beforehand, all it really does is completely alienate Abby from the player before we could have gotten a chance to know anything about her, or even want to know anything about her. That’s what I meant earlier about TLoU II not giving the player space to understand and relate/connect to/with the newly introduced characters, to have the scenes and the content convey the emotional intent without the need of these unnecessary forced framing choices and over the top shock value instances.

Seriously, how hard would it have been to let the player know from the outset that Abby was associated with the Fireflies, and that her father was the lead surgeon that Joel killed to rescue Ellie five years ago? From what I understand, it’s several hours into the game before this information comes to light.

The game makes the mistake of introducing Abby in such a way that the narrative (almost to an absurd degree) assumes that the player is already invested in her. We’re not. We’ve literally just met her. And we as the player are given no room to get emotionally invested in her as a character, and when the game finally realizes that “oh, without some context on this matter, no one will care about Abby” (roughly 12 or so hours after the fact from what I’m understanding) it feels like it’s too little too late. 

We as the player never received the opportunity to understand who she is, who she’s after, what her deal is, nothing prior to the controversial murder scene (it all happens after the fact, but by then, people are typically closed off from truly caring or able to change their minds about her so the whole 10 run feels more like a slog narratively rather than a deep, engaging “walk a mile in this person’s shoes” thing. 

We’re just forced to continuously bounce back and forth between controlling her and Ellie throughout the game from the beginning. That’s honestly not the best story structure….ND....you can’t shove Abby down our throats later and expect us to truly care about her. That’s not how it works. And even the whole “well, we wanted the player to hate Abby” thing falls apart because the later scenes where we’re forced to control her feel very unnatural and are often trying too hard to FORCE the player to empathize with her rather than just again, trusting the content to allow us that (again, give the player some space to experience the narrative, build things/people up better, stop relying on shock value without the adequate suspense) for ourselves in a more natural way like with the characters and the way they were presented in the first game.

And Why? Because Naughty Dog was so focused on trying far too hard to illicit certain reactions/emotions from the player. Yes, the overall framing of Joel’s untimely murder at Abby’s hand is bold and (to a point) brilliant in getting us to feel exactly (and I do mean EXACTLY) what Ellie feels in that moment because she doesn’t know any more about this Abby chick than we do. That definitely works for getting us to feel something for Ellie and truly understanding her pain and sorrow in the moment, however, in the larger scheme of the narrative, it was unnecessary. We’re ALREADY just as emotionally invested in Ellie as a character by this point as we are Joel. They are both returning characters.

If they knew that they were going to have Abby (an entirely newly introduced character) kill off one of their major (returning) characters in the first few hours of the game, and ESPECIALLY if we were going to be forced to control her later, then all of their efforts should have been made into making Abby as emotionally understood as possible from the very beginning. This easily could have been rectified with a montage, or a playable prologue or something explaining exactly who she is and her friends were. THEN have her kill Joel somewhere in the middle of the game (while having her conflicted over doing so in part because he saved her life multiple times). People would have still hated her as you wanted ND, but her story is much more understandable and less convoluted and infuriating for the player to experience (and not in the genius way that you think, but just in the “bad story structured way”). The canon structure of Part II might have worked for a novel, or a movie or TV show or something. 

This is a story driven VIDEO GAME. Players directly experience the narrative, not just read or watch it. It has to work in a way that doesn’t feel like an outright HATE message directed to the player themselves. There’s a difference in “exploring the themes of hatred and revenge” in a game, and “deliberately creating something that people are going to despise” (something Druckmann said. He literally said that he’d rather people passionately hate the game rather than just saying “eh, it was ok”). 

To me, I think it would have been more conducive to focus their efforts on creating an experience that people would ultimately LOVE TO PLAY AS A GAME, as Naughty Dog explored the themes of hatred/revenge solely within the realm of the game’s content, rather than this borderline preachy way they presented this current flop of a story. Just IMO.

It’s sad too, because it would have been a great opportunity for Naughty Dog to fill in some of the gaps in the first game regarding the Fireflies, getting more of major key moments from the Fireflies’ point of view (since their movement was largely in the background of the first game, but still prominent enough) and she could have served as an interesting foil or something to both Ellie and Joel.

Abby is a character who lost her father at the hands of Joel, while Ellie never knew hers and found a father figure in the very man who took Abby’s father away from her. Joel in the first game was depicted as a man who had largely given up on humanity after everything that happened to him, more than likely didn’t believe humanity deserved a cure, or at least damn sure that to him it wasn’t worth losing Ellie over, and killed a lot of the Fireflies to rescue her.

Abby had a direct connection with the group, her father probably a hero in her eyes for still wanting to do the right thing and help humanity (what was left of it anyway) and was brutally murdered by someone who, by all accounts was nothing but a thuggish criminal and smuggler from her point of view.

All of those things could have been compelling and made Abby more understandable and relatable from the start. Would her killing Joel in such a brutal fashion so early in the game still have been bad? Absolutely. However, to me, the difference in knowing who she is and what her deal is before hand would have at least given the player the space to decide how much so for themselves. The overall framing choice of the narrative made this story more convoluted than it needed to be unfortunately. I get what Druckmann was going for overall, but the over reliance on shock value and screwing around with the player’s emotions in this game ultimately came at the cost of good story structure in the process. Sometimes, the straightforward approach is the best way to execute a story….

Well, that’s it for part one of my review. What do you all think? Agree? Disagree? Let me know what your thoughts are on the matter. But for now, I will return to my Den. Thanks for reading! If you liked this review, then stay tuned for my follow up after I complete the game.

Edit: Part II of my review is up! If you liked this, and want to read about how I would have personally structured this story, here’s the link to that!

[gundamgamer]

The Last of Us Part II: "There Was This Sequel... Wasn't As Good."

After seven years of what felt like forever, The Last of Us Part II has finally arrived on PS4. And…well, after the leaks were released in late April of this year, it has left the fanbase, and the Gaming Community polarizing, to say the least. Some cancelled their pre-orders, others gave the game the benefit of the doubt, and see for themselves, and then there were those who had no choice because they were getting paid to play and review the game…Only to have mixed feelings of the story. But what do I personally think of the game, overall? Well, after playing through it for a week, and processing the entirety of the main story, I don’t think it’s “the WORST thing ever”…But it’s definitely not masterpiece worthy. Let’s begin with the simple, NON-SPOILER aspects of the game:

 GAMEPLAY:

At first, I thought there was a lot of changes made with the gameplay, since the first game. I wouldn’t say the Combat Mechanics, in TLOU1 were perfect by any means. But, for a 2013 game, they were pretty solid. Though there are times where things can get glitchy and finicky, the controls felt fine…In THIS entry, however, it just feels the same. There’s little to no changes with the controls and, at times, they felt stiff to the point where I would freeze in the middle of picking items up or performing a “T pose” while getting shot at by nearby enemies (Yes, this actually happened to me during my playthrough). Granted, I do like that they gave players the Aim Assist feature, seen in the Uncharted games, which can SOMETIMES make combat a little easier, but that’s not saying much when you’re trying to aim at enemies that have the advantage. And I do feel like the jumping action was pointless, since all you had to do was run off an edge and hope to God you made it to the other side of wherever you were jumping to. Since most of the actions require you to press the Triangle (△) button, this action felt needless. The weaponry has somewhat improved, since the last game, with some familiar returns (such as the Flamethrower and Shotgun) and newer weapons (Semi-Auto Rifle, Hunting Pistol and Crossbow), the variety, on how you choose to kill your enemies, is literally at your fingertips. Finally, there’s a neat guitar mechanic where you use the pad on your DUALSHOCK 4 controller to strum the chords and play tunes on a guitar. A small but neat feature. GAMEPLAY: 3.5

 VISUALS & MUSIC:

There’s no doubt the Visuals have vastly improved since the first game; from the far horizons of Jackson to the deep overgrown forests in the Seattle area, the environments and locations look phenomenal…For the most part. Some areas, however, look so bland that they all look the same just for the purpose of Gameplay. Now, I know that sounds absurd, but hear me out: Using the same environment, for the purpose of Gameplay Mechanics is FINE. However, you need to use a different variety of location designs and settings. Otherwise, the gameplay will feel repetitive at best, and lazy at worst. But I digress. Overall, the Visuals are gorgeous to look at, especially in different season settings. Of course, it wouldn’t be a Last of Us game without the Music. Composer Gustavo Santaolalla returns to give the game life with his score, which (and I know it’s gonna sound crazy) isn’t as memorable as the first game, but is still remarkable to say the least. I also do like that they made him a character, in the game.

VISUALS: 4

MUSIC: 4

AND NOW, WE COME TO THE MEAT OF THIS REVIEW: THE SPOILERS! SO, IF YOU HAVE YET TO PLAY THE GAME, I SUGGEST YOU STOP READING, FROM HERE ON OUT…YOU’VE BEEN WARNED.

I’d also like to point out that NO, I have absolutely NO PROBLEM with LGBT+ representation in any form of media (Gaming, TV, Film etc), as there is a character, Lev, who’s LGBT+, and that is FINE. But…it’s the story that needs to get a beating in all of this. Let’s begin:

 So, let’s talk about the Story, because I have a feeling that a good number of us will agree with me when I say…IT’S ABSOLUTE DOGSHIT!! …I really have no idea where to begin.

This game’s writing is all over the place, and it’s backwards at best and atrocious at worst. Everything from feeling sympathy for the main antagonist, Abby; because it’s revealed that Joel murdered her dad while he was about to operate on Ellie at the climax of the first game (as if we were suppose to know that), to PLAYING AS ABBY FOR A GOOD TEN PLUS HOURS, A CHARACTER THAT HAD SHITTY DEVELOPMENT TO THE POINT THAT NO ONE GIVES A FLYING FUCK ABOUT HER OR ANYONE ELSE AROUND HER! Not to mention that, between Ellie and Abby, you play through flashbacks in flashbacks. This is not creative writing, this is fan fiction bullshit, and it fails FAST. Seriously, I wanted Abby’s playthrough to be done because I did not give a shit about her and wanted to go back to playing as Ellie. Can’t also forget how little to no point these characters serve in the story, from Abby’s side or Ellie’s, they all range from forgettable to needless, in the end. Aside from Dina and her ex-boyfriend, Jesse (yea, he’s pretty forgettable too, but at least he gets shot later on, by Abby), these characters serve little to no purpose to the story besides Story Progression that COULD’VE been done better. But nothing, AND I DO MEAN NOTHING, can compare to the atrocity that is the ending of this game:

Ellie finds out where Abby is heading, months after the what happened in Seattle. I’ll also mention that, for a bit you’re playing as Abby again, however it’s…somewhat forgivable as it’s only for a short period of time. Afterwards, you’re playing as Ellie throughout the Climax of the game. You come across a group of Rattlers who hunt down and take prisoner to lost travelers, when you [as Ellie] learn where Abby is kept prisoner. Once you find her, and her friend Lev (who TL;DR, identifies as a boy, but was born a girl, and his mother wanted to marry a guy but he refused so her mother went nuts and he killed her…yay?), she follows them to some nearby boats. But Ellie isn’t done with Abby yet. As the two fight it out, Ellie finally has her in the water and makes her drown. But then, for a LITERAL SECOND, she has a flashback of Joel sitting on his porch with his guitar…and feels guilt…So much so, that she lets Abby, the one person who she; wanted revenge on, set out on a mission that killed multiple people, even someone who nobody really gave a shit about (Jesse), risks just about everything to get to this point…And for what? A moral epiphany…Oh god…Ellie then returns home for Dina and their child JJ, only to find that they’re not home. She learns that they both left Ellie, for Dina could not take the chance of losing her. And so, with her ring and pinky finger, on her left hand, bitten off by Abby, she tries to play guitar and has yet another flashback with Joel. This seems to be the last time they encounter each other before he gets axed. It, for the most part, is a nice little moment between the two, as they discuss some issues that need to be resolved. But mostly that Ellie wants to forgive Joel because he lied to her about what happened in the hospital. Afterwards, she sets out on what could be an unforeseeable future…

As you can see, the story isn’t necessarily the greatest…In fact, it doesn’t even come close to the first game’s story (which by the way, won Best Storytelling and GAME OF THE YEAR. Yea, let that sink in). The reason why the first game was so successful is because it focused on the development and bond between Joel and Ellie. How they grew as characters and learned to endure and survive in a chaotic, post-apocalyptic world setting. And we, the fans, WANTED to see that again in this game. But instead, got bamboozled by false advertising. Oh yea, that scene in the trailer where Joel pulls Ellie back and asks “You think I’d let you do this on your own?” NEVER. FUCKING. HAPPENS!! Instead, it’s Jesse in that position. Seriously? WHO THE FUCK CARES ABOUT THIS GUY?! NOBODY, THAT’S WHO!! We don’t care about any of these characters. We just wanna see the ones we cared about grow and learn more from each other. We actually wanted to see if anything changed from these two, over the years. The closest we get to ANY of that, in this game, are the flashbacks with them; from the museum setting (which makes some not-so-subtle nods to Jurassic Park and its sequel, The Lost World: Jurassic Park), to the only good scene in this ENTIRE game, in my opinion: Ellie heading out to the hospital, from the first game, finding out Joel lied but having Joel confess and tell the truth…That was such a powerful scene, and the acting from both Troy Baker and Ashley Johnson was superb. It shows the emotion between the two, from guilt to betrayal, how both Ellie and Joel lost so many people within their lives, only to go their separate ways after a crucial and impactful reveal…But none of that matters to Neil Druckmann and the crew at Naughty Dog. They just wanted to push ideas that nobody really cares about, especially for a game that’s set in a post-apocalyptic setting. We play games to escape reality and venture into worlds that could NEVER be real for the sake of entertainment and fantastic storytelling. These types of media are slowly fading away, and being replaced by writers who really don’t even give little to no shit about constructive writing, internal consistency, and above all else, THE FANS!! (even if they claim to do so…Looking at YOU, Rian Johnson)

In the midst of it all, the reason I didn’t cancel my pre-order was that I was one of the few that gave this game the benefit of the doubt. Despite only vaguely knowing what those leaks had and how they could’ve affected me, I still played it through beginning to end…Only to be disappointed by an entry I – and MILLIONS more -- had waited seven years for, only for Druckmann to say “You see this? THIS ISN’T WHAT YOU WANTED! THIS IS MY STORY!! AND IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT, YOU’RE A BIGOT!!”…However, to be fair, I’ll say this: don’t take my word for it. Maybe there CAN be something to your liking, in this game. Maybe there’s a little something for everyone…just don’t expect me to play through – scratch that – suffer through this mediocre attempt of a sequel ever again. There are ways this game COULD’VE been as fantastic – if not, MORE – than its predecessor. I might have to do that in another essay, sometime. Til then, this the last of my playthrough of this gigantic disappointment.

STORY: 1.5

CHARACTERS: 2.5

THE LAST OF US PART II: 3.5/10

[thatfanficstuff]

The Light in my Darkness - 3

Pairing: Almost Clint x reader

Warnings: language (I won’t be listing that after this chapter. Just assume from now on.) discussions of a not so normal contract. 

A/N: This was supposed to be a short chapter. And this is not how this was outlined to go AT ALL. I blame the reader and Clint for this one. 

***

The next day you stood in front of the Hawkeye International building and shielded your eyes as you gazed up at it. You’d been here before with Wanda, but this was the first time visiting on your own. Taking a deep breath, you steeled your nerves and stepped through the door. After giving your eyes a minute to adjust, you made your way to the front desk to get a visitor’s badge.

Once you showed your ID, the rest of the process was hassle free as you were on the permanent access list. Clint had seen to that after the third time you’d shown up with Wanda unexpectedly and they’d had to track him down to get permission for you to visit. You smiled at the memory as you clipped the badge they gave you to your clothes. Clint had gone off on an absolute tirade. It had been clear that he understood the need for security but didn’t care for the process behind it much.

According to Wanda, her dad was still very much the soldier with an idea and some well-connected friends, as opposed to the typical CEO. Clint Barton had served in the special forces and had been a member of the US archery team. His brilliant mind had combined the two into a business. His company specialized in survival gear. A collapsible bow had been their first product and from there they’d just continued to grow. 

You also knew that Hawkeye had combined with Stark Industries to create a line of prosthetics aimed at soldiers and athletes that would enable them to continue to do the things they thought they would no longer be able to. That was due to Bucky Barnes, whom had served with Clint and lost an arm. Wanda said he did everything with his new arm he could do with the old. Sometimes more.

Lost in your thoughts, you arrived at the top floor quickly and had to reach out a hand to stop the door from closing on you. You shook your head and walked down the hall to Clint’s office. You’d been awake half the night going over everything you knew about Clint and his company. He had to be offering you a job, right? Why else would he want to see you? Of course, if you didn’t have a giant crush on the man in question, you probably wouldn’t be so nervous.

His assistant Wade ran his eyes over you as you approached and gave you a tight smile when you stopped in front of his desk. “Can I help you?” It didn’t matter how many times you came here, this man never remembered you.

“Y/N Y/L/N. I’m here to see Clint Barton.” Of course, you are. This is his office. Damn it, Y/N. Get yourself together. “He’s expecting me.”

He blinked and kept that fake smile plastered to his face. “I am aware.” He picked up his phone and pressed a button, keeping his eyes locked on you the entire time. “Boss, your guest is here. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Yes, sir.”

The yes, sirs continued as the office door opened. Clint looked between you and Wade with a frown. “Wade. I’m not even on the phone anymore. What the hell are you doing?”

He hung up the phone and laced his fingers together while keeping that stupid expression on his face. “Nothing, boss.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as Clint closed his eyes and shook his head. “Go to lunch, Wade.”

“It’s only 11:00.”

“Lunch, Wilson.” Clint’s voice was little more than a growl.

“I think I’ll just go to lunch.”

You and Clint watched Wade disappear down the hall. When you turned back toward him, you found Clint fighting a grin. He stepped back and opened the door wide. “Come on in, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks heated with the endearment which was stupid but you couldn’t help it apparently. He closed the office door behind you and steered you to a chair with a hand on your back. His thumb rubbed lightly back and forth which only served to make your face heat more. Once you were both settled in your seats, Clint laced his hands together on his desk and looked you over.

Honestly, it had been awhile since you’d seen him for more than a few minutes at a time so you took the opportunity to look him over as well. You were used to seeing him in jeans and t-shirts or dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up and he seemed out of place in the suit to you. But damn did he wear it well. Realizing you’d been staring for perhaps a beat too long, you tore your gaze from him to look out the window.

After a moment, he cleared his throat. “I assume you’re wondering why I told Wanda to have you come see me.”

“A bit, yeah. I mean I assume it has something to do with everything going on right now.” You met his eyes briefly before looking down. “I wish she hadn’t told you about that.”

“What? Why?” He seemed genuinely confused but you still couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze.

You didn’t answer and it wasn’t long before a pair of well-dressed legs and designer shoes filled your vision as Clint came around the desk to stand in front of you. Now you were even more embarrassed than you had been before. Him crouching in front of you and placing a hand under your chin to lift your head didn’t help that any. His clear blue-green eyes searched yours. “Talk to me, Y/N.”

It wasn’t a request. You wiped a hand down the top part of your face and huffed out a breath. “It’s just embarrassing.”

He straightened and leaned against the front of his desk. He crossed his arms over his chest and you couldn’t help but notice the way it pulled the fabric of his coat tight across his shoulders. You bit your lip and looked away from him. “What on earth do you have to be embarrassed about? None of this is your fault.”

You let out a laugh. “Try telling that to my father. He’d say this is entirely my fault.”

Clint arched a brow and pursed his lips. “Yeah, well… It’s probably best if we leave my opinion of your father out of the conversation.”

You hummed in agreement and left it at that. “So, why did you wish to see me, Mr. Barton?”

His eyes seemed to darken as they ran over you again and his tongue darted out to trace his bottom lip. Finally, he cleared his throat. “You haven’t called me anything but Clint for years, Y/N.” His voice was low, rough.

It was true, you hadn’t. Why it slipped out now, you had no idea. Well, maybe you had a bit of one. The corner of your mouth kicked up in a grin and you hoped he didn’t notice the way your cheeks heated. “It’s the suit.”

He glanced down in surprise as if just realizing what he was wearing. When he looked back up, he was grinning. “This is a bit different than what you usually see me in.” He tilted his head. “Does it meet with your approval?”

You sucked in a breath as your eyes widened. Why would he ask you that? Why would he care what your opinion was? Your gaze ran over him of its own accord before you met his gaze again. “It’s nice. Not my favorite look on you, but it holds its own.”

His brows lifted. “And what exactly might your favorite look for me be?”

You knew the moment the words left your mouth that they were a mistake. You shook your head instead of answering. “Why am I here, Clint?”

His lips twitched and he glanced down briefly. When he looked back to you, you saw a spark of something in his eye you couldn’t identify. “I have a proposition for you.”

You brushed aside his odd wording. “Like a job?”

“Not remotely.”

Your brow furrowed. “Then what?”

He sighed. “I am about to tell you some things that I prefer you not repeat to anyone. Including Wanda. Normally I’d have you sign something before we had this conversation, but I’ll accept your word.”

“I won’t say anything,” you replied with no hesitation.

“I haven’t dated anyone in years,” he started.

You frowned. That wasn’t true at all. You’d seen some of the women he dated, compared yourself to them. Each and every one of them had been gorgeous.

Clint chuckled at your expression. “Never play poker, Y/N. Your emotions are written all over your face.”

You barely resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “All right. If you know what I’m thinking then explain.”

“I had agreements with those women. Contracts.”

Your eyes went wide. “So, they were escorts?”

“Absolutely not,” he was quick to protest with a shake of his head. “It’s not about the sex. It’s about the relationship.”

It must have been obvious that you were confused as hell because he looked at you and sighed before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, look… Do you remember when you and Wanda were in high school and that kid Joel found out Rumlow was your dad?”

Your lip curled in disgust automatically at the memory. “He tormented me from the day he met me and all of a sudden he wanted to date me. Asshole.”

He smirked. “Exactly. Now imagine that same scenario only you are well past marriageable age and everyone knows precisely who you are and can estimate how much money you have. You know I made my fortune. I didn’t grow up with money. There was a time I didn’t understand the lengths people will go to get it. I was naïve about a woman once. I won’t let it happen again.”

By the end of his little spiel, his smile had faded entirely and his words were clipped. Whatever had happened to him, must have been brutal. You wondered if Wanda even knew. If she did, she’d never mentioned anything about it. “And what does this have to do with me?”

“I recently terminated my contract with Sharon. I need a new companion and I am offering that position to you.”

You blinked several times then licked your lips. You should refuse outright, but you always were too curious for your own good. “And what does that mean exactly?”

Despite the fact that he was the one offering you the position, Clint seemed slightly stunned that you hadn’t just turned him down. “You accompany me to events. We go on dates. Spend time together if we choose. As far as everyone else is concerned, we are dating and I am unavailable. In return, I take care of you.”

“Take care of me?”

He nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “I will pay for all your living expenses, including school. You would need to leave your job at the diner. School will take up enough of your time without adding a job to the mix. If you still want to work, I can find you something here so you can be off when I need you to be.”

You hopped to your feet and paced the floor, glancing at him occasionally as you processed what he’d just said to you. It couldn’t be that simple. “I feel like there’s a catch I’m missing.”

Clint shook his head. “No catch, Y/N. It’s a business arrangement. Nothing more.”

Coming to a stop in front of him, you crossed your arms over your chest. “Okay. Then why me? Is this a pity thing?”

His brow furrowed. “Pity?”

You shrugged. “I’ve seen the women you go out with. They’re gorgeous. Sophisticated. I’m just…not. Yes, things kind of suck for me right now, but I can deal with it. I don’t need your charity, Clint Barton.”

He reached out and grasped your waist to pull you closer. One hand stayed settled on your hip while the other pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. You ignored the tremor that ran up your spine at his touch. “First of all, you are stunning and any man would be proud to have you on his arm. Second, if any pity is involved, it would be you taking pity on me. The women I have had arrangements with in the past have all been beautiful, that’s true. They’ve also been bitchy, shallow, and, in the case of one, just plain stupid. It would be a pleasant change to actually enjoy spending time with the person that’s supposed to my girlfriend.”

“So, we wouldn’t be dating but would appear to be for all intents and purposes?”

“Exactly.” His hand cupped the side of your neck then his thumb ran across your jawline. “We would simply be two adults that enjoy one another’s company spending time together.”

Your heart raced in your chest and it became slightly harder to take a deep breath. “And no sex?”

Pink dusted his cheeks even though he smirked at the question. “If it happens, it happens but it is not a requirement, no. The only place you’ll find it mentioned in the contract is in the non-disclosure portion.”

You licked your lips as your eyes locked on his. “And PDA?”

He nodded slightly. “We do have to be a believable couple but we’re talking hand holding and the occasional kiss. We don’t need to have a full make out session in public.” Laughter colored his words.

Your gaze darted up to meet his. “I’m glad you find me so amusing.”

Both of his hands shifted so he was cradling your face. “I’m not amused. I’m fucking thrilled you’re even considering this.”

And you shouldn’t be. God, you should have run in the opposite direction the moment the conversation started. But now all you could think about was the warmth of his hands. Or what his lips would feel like against yours. Could you really pass up the opportunity to spend time with him? Kiss him? You sucked in a breath for fortification then leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

There was no hesitation on his part, no question lingering on those sweet, soft lips. He used his hands to tilt your head to the perfect angle and traced your bottom lip with his tongue. When you gasped, he seized the moment to slip his tongue inside your mouth. Your tongues danced around each other, easily finding a rhythm. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed yourself against his front. His fingers slid back to tangle themselves in your hair and hold you in place.

He grew hard against you while you grew warm in all the right places. You’d never had a kiss like this. One that you felt through your whole body, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. You’d imagined kissing this man dozens of times but never had your brain even come close to this. There was no way you could pass this up. Even if it wasn’t real, you wanted it for however long you could hold on to it.

Finally, you pulled away, tracing your tingling lips with your tongue as you studied his expression. He looked just as dazed as you felt. “Wow.”

“Wow, indeed.” He kissed you again, softer and less needy this time. It lasted only a few seconds which wasn’t nearly long enough in your opinion. “I guess that answers the question of chemistry.”

You laughed at that and pulled away from him completely, praying your legs remained steady long enough for you to leave his office with your dignity intact. “Get me the contract, Clint. I’ll read it and let you know.”

You felt his eyes on you as you left his office and you glanced back just before you passed through the door. His dark gaze burned as he watched you, and the smile he graced you with was downright sinful. Damn.

This was either going to be the best decision you ever made or the worst.

****

Clint’s gaze followed you until you disappeared through the door. That kiss still played in his mind. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d shared a kiss like that with someone. Had he ever? He reached over to pick up his phone and pressed one of the speed dial buttons.

“Odinsons Attorneys at Law,” a soft voice answered.

“This is Clint Barton. I need to speak to one of the brothers, please.”

“Of course, sir.”

Soft music played as he placed was on hold. Thor and Loki Odinson had taken over the firm built by their father decades ago. Their sister Hela was the third partner but her specialty was criminal law so Clint had rarely interacted with her. The brothers, however, handled all his personal issues and headed the legal team if his company was ever taken to court. Hawkeye International had inhouse attorneys though they mainly read forms and wrote press releases.

“Clint, what can I do for you?” The smooth voice of Loki came over the phone.

“I’m going to need another copy of the usual contract. I’ll send you the pertinent details.”

“Finished with Sharon already?”  The brothers weren’t only his attorneys, they were his friends.

“She was a bit much.”

Loki hummed in what Clint assumed was agreement. “And the rest?” the attorney asked.

Clint pursed his lips in thought. The usual package wasn’t quite right for you. “Get her a card, of course. No limits. Sell the current apartment. I’ll need a new one near the art institute. I’ll send what I’m looking for in the email.”

There was a stretch of silence. “Are you certain it’s wise to give her free reign on your account?”

“Believe it or not, I actually found one I trust.”

“And the apartment? You’ve had it for years. Do you really want to sell it? Perhaps we should hold onto it. We can always obtain the new one for you as well. Rent this one out perhaps in the meantime.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate that apartment, Loki. Just sell it and whatever is left there. I’ll send you that email. Let me know what you find ASAP, please.”

He hung up without waiting for a response. His eyes found the door again as he thought of you and that kiss. That was a hell of a kiss. And you’d initiated it. He’d wondered for a long time what your lips would feel like on his and he sure as hell wasn’t disappointed. Even now, he wanted more.

This was either going to be the best idea he’d ever had or the worst.

[joyandeggs]

9 15 16

Another big warning for huge paragraphs of texts that I rambled in. But thank you so much for the ask. ❤

9. Favorite anime child

Interesting question! My favorite would have to be Zenko from One Punch Man, off the top of my head. ❤ I really like Child Emperor and Tareo, too. Hm...who else... Oh! Tenga from Mob Psycho!! 💓 There's also Mob of course, Tome, MUSASHI, and all the Body Improvement Club. So many good kids in that series. There's also Gon and Killua. I do love those two.

15. Anime you never get sick of watching

I would have to say One Punch Man, honestly. I never ever get tired of watching it over and over again. It's one of those series that I will see a million times over and I will still laugh so hard and get too excited over scenes and characters, even if I basically memorized the whole series at this point. 😌❤ And I guess I should say Hunter x Hunter? I'll rewatch episodes/scenes with Shoot and Knuckle whenever I have the need to see and hear them again. I do enjoy watching hxh as a whole though. And for nostalgia, I'll go with Pokemon. ❤

16. Ten best animes you have watched

One Punch Man - About a year ago from now, back last November, I found this series at the most perfect time. I actually got into OPM as a senior in high school, but I only watched the first episode and accidentally lost it for years after I graduated, and that was...four years ago? A friend at the time introduced me to it, but I literally just...lost it by accident. It wasn't until I saw this specific panel of Metal Bat in a tumblr post with Kenshiro and other characters (who I will recognize now right off the bat!!) that made me rediscover it! ❤

Which is absolutely crazy to think about now. I cannot believe seeing Badd helped me find my favorite show again after losing it, and now I will keep it in my heart forever. I just love this series too much. Just...so many great things associated with this series makes me love it even more, too. A few big things being that I found my best friend through it, and I have gotten so much better physically and creatively through my art. ❤❤❤ So...a huge thanks to a character I instantly loved without even knowing who he was, and a character I absolutely adore.

Hunter x Hunter - This series was something that...I really did not realize how much I was going to love it. I just took a chance and watched it back in March, and now it is one of the best things I have in my life. It's up there with One Punch Man with how special it is to me. ❤ And of course...it's so special to me because I found someone like Shoot in it, along with so many other good characters. I know I constantly talk about Shoot, but he really does help me everyday, I would never be able to explain properly. I feel like this series as a whole, along with Shoot, were things I didn't know that I needed in my life, and I could not have found them at a more perfect time.

Fist of the North Star - This is actually the first anime I ever watched as an adult, if you don't count Dragon Ball like most people do? But I would have never heard of this series if it wasn't for Joel from Vinesauce. He talked about it so much that I told myself "I have to check this out." Literally loved it to death by the first episode. It got me hooked instantly. This series actually made me incredibly emotional, I just loved Kenshiro so much. If it wasn't for this series, I wouldn't have wanted to get into anything else! This helped me find my way to OPM and JoJo and everything else, especially all of the old stuff. (I just love 80s and 90s anime too much! But that's been a given ever since I was a baby. ❤)

Mob Psycho 100 - After getting into One Punch Man, I for sure wanted to get into Mob Psycho. I knew that I was going to love it before I even thought about watching and reading it, and I did. I absolutely love it. Seriously, what a fantastic series.

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure - Another series that Joel encouraged me to get into because he talked about it so much. It really got me curious, especially while watching his old streams playing Eyes Of Heaven and the old JoJo RPG, playthroughs which I love a lot but had no idea what was happening back then. (After watching the show I'd rewatch them and just be like !!!!! I love it even more now I understand! LOL) I remember last December just watching Part 1, 2, and the beginning of 3 all from my phone since I was without a computer for months. A very happy memory. Then I spent the beginning of this year watching Part 3 and 4, and I absolutely loved it. The whole series is so fun to watch. It really was an adventure. ❤ I still need to watch Part 5! I just haven't gotten around to it.

Dragon Ball/Dragon Ball Z - (Both of these go in their own spot together!) The Dragon Ball series is really first series I ever fully got into, along with the only anime I've ever watched completely. (A lot of people don't count DB as an actual anime since it's in the same category as Sailor Moon and Pokemon? But anyway) I associate the series with the summer of 2017 because I really wanted to get into it after so many years, and my friend was nice enough to lend me his account to watch it all the way through. Stayed up all day and night the entire summer break from college to watch it, I was so exhausted during that year. It brings back good memories though. 💓

Cowboy Bebop - Bebop holds a special place in my heart because it is just such a good series, but also because of my significant other. Corin absolutely adores Cowboy Bebop. He loves Spike, he loves Steve Blum, and he loves the entire series on its own. I have such good memories of just lounging around at his house and watching it.

One Piece - Even though I have a long way to go until I catch up to nine hundred episodes (!!!) I adore One Piece. 💓 I got attached to the main crew right away, and I love the story! So, so good.

Bleach - Another series I have good memories with because of Corin. We would watch it over at his house whenever I started getting into different anime last year, and just stay up late cuddled up to the tv together with it. I enjoy the series! It makes me think of what I missed out on in the 2000s growing up, but I'm happy I get to watch all of these now as an adult. It's really nice.

Initial D - Okay, the reason I put this on the list is because I absolutely love older anime. But I really do like Initial D a lot. It's something I'll watch on and off whenever I'm sleepy and need something on tv to relax to. It's a lot of fun to watch. I'm pretty sure I've fallen asleep watching episodes before.

(Honorable mentions are Rurouni Kenshin, Yu Yu Hakusho, City Hunter, and so many more older ones that I really need to finish watching from the beginning.)

[splendidlyimperfect]

Gray hasn’t seen Natsu in years - not since he moved away with his boyfriend Joel and Natsu stopped texting him. A chance run-in at a bar brings Natsu back into Gray’s life, but the encounter puts Gray in danger when Joel finds out. Natsu quickly realizes that Gray’s stuck in a cycle of violence, and wants to help him escape. But leaving isn’t that easy, and sometimes loving someone might not be enough. 

Chapter Summary: Joel's jealous of how much Gray texts Natsu, and Natsu and Erza are concerned about how much time Gray's spending with Joel.

Chapters (9/21):  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Gray Fullbuster/Original Male Character(s) Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rape Aftermath, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Natsu just wants to help, but Gray feels like he can’t leave, Non-Linear Narrative, Trans Character, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, ftlgbtpride2019, Coming Out, First Love, Angst with a Happy Ending, I promise

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sleepovers

in·fat·u·a·tion | \ in-ˌfa-chə-ˈwā-shən noun : a feeling of foolish or obsessively strong love for, admiration for, or interest in someone or something : strong and unreasoning attachment

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iv april five years ago

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“Why are you always on your phone?”

Joel’s voice is sullen, and when Gray looks up, Joel’s brow is furrowed in annoyance. Gray glances over at the TV where Joel’s playing ‘Halo,’ then back down at his screen.

“Sorry,” he says, “I’m just texting Natsu, I wasn—”

Joel reaches over and grabs the phone from Gray’s hands, tossing it to the end of the couch. Gray sits there for a moment, stunned.

“What the hell?” Gray asks after a second. He tries to reach out and pick up the phone, but Joel’s legs are over his, and Joel shifts so that Gray can’t move away. “What’s your deal?”

There’s a tense moment before Joel sighs, and Gray watches his expression turn from irritated to disappointed. “You’d rather talk to him than me,” Joel says, looking away from Gray and down at the controller on his lap.

“Hey, no, that’s not true,” Gray says, anger immediately dissipating. He reaches over and grabs Joel’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’m sorry, I just thought—I haven’t talked to him in a while.”

It’s true. Since Joel and Gray started dating three months ago, it’s been harder and harder for Gray to make time for Natsu. Joel likes to hang out with Gray in the evenings, and Gray doesn't blame him – they're both in school all day long, and it’s nice to relax together.

“I know,” Joel says, running his fingers over Gray’s. “It just feels like... you wish you were still with him, not me.”

Continue reading on AO3

The statement hits harder than Gray would like to admit. Joel is amazing, and he makes Gray feel special and loved, but there’s a tiny part of Gray that still lights up every time he gets a text or e-mail from Natsu.

“He’s my best friend,” Gray insists, trying to push those thoughts away. Joel deserves better than that.

“But I’m your boyfriend,” Joel says, and Gray’s stomach immediately twists with guilt. “It makes me feel shitty when you text him instead of talking to me.”

Gray looks down at the discarded phone, then back at Joel, whose expression is downcast. “I’m sorry,” he says again.

Joel’s eyes search Gray’s face, and then he picks up the phone and opens it to Gray’s message history with Natsu. Gray’s eyes widen and he reaches out unconsciously to take the phone back.

“You have something to hide?” Joel asks, looking at him suspiciously, and just like that, the edge is back to his voice. Gray shakes his head and Joel turns back to the phone. His face hardens as he reads back through the messages, and Gray desperately tries to think of what could be in there that’s making Joel upset.

“What’s wrong?” he asks as Joel’s hand tightens around his.

“He’s still in love with you,” Joel says, voice low. He flips the phone around to Gray and points to a text from a few weeks ago.

we went to the lake here last night and watched the stars. thought of you, i miss u so much xo

“W-we...” Gray’s about to explain about the stars and the lake and their old summer traditions, but Joel’s not listening, just scrolling back through message after message. The further back he goes, the tighter his grip becomes on Gray’s hand.

“Are you still in love with him?” Joel asks eventually.

Gray shakes his head vehemently. “No, I—I love you, we’ve just...”

“This doesn’t feel like you love me,” Joel says softly. He scrolls back down to the last few messages and re-reads them.

Natsu: i got a summer job here but i talked to erza about coming back to visit in june after my exams

Gray: Really?

Natsu: yeah : ) maybe we can go out to the lake or something <3

Gray: That would be awesome. I miss you so much.

Gray frowns, looking between the phone and Joel. “I don’t unders—”

“You didn’t tell me about this.” Joel’s squeezing Gray’s hand so tightly that it’s starting to hurt. “You’re making plans with him behind my back?”

“What?” Gray winces, trying to pull his hand away, but Joel won’t let go. “That’s not for another two months, nothing’s for sure, why—”

“You’re supposed to tell me these things!” Joel protests, face drawn in disappointment. “How can I trust you if you’re keeping secrets from me with your ex?”

“I didn’t—”

“You did, don’t lie to me!” Joel tosses the phone onto the floor and digs his fingers dig harder into the back of Gray’s hand.

“Joel, stop it, you’re hurting me!”

Joel immediately lets go of Gray’s hand and Gray pulls back from him, staring down at the bright red marks on his hand and wrist as the blood rushes back to the skin.

“Gray, baby, I’m sorry,” Joel says gently, reaching out to take Gray’s hand. “Hey, c’mon, lemme see.” He runs his thumb over the marks, then brings Gray’s fingers to his lips and kisses the marks. “It’s not that bad, honey.”

“I...”

Joel sighs. “I didn’t mean to,” he murmurs. He pulls Gray into his arms and rubs his thumb over the back of Gray’s hand. “I just get so upset, I… I don’t wanna lose you, and when you do stuff like that, it makes me feel…”

A wave of guilt rushes over Gray. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, pressing his forehead to Joel’s shoulder. “I should have said something.”

“It’s okay,” Joel says, kissing Gray’s head and running a hand down his back. “Just don’t lie to me, okay? I love you. I don’t wanna get upset.”

“I love you, too,” Gray says, wrapping his arms around Joel’s waist and snuggling up to him.

They sit like that for a long time, and eventually Joel reaches down and passes Gray’s phone back to him. He doesn’t say anything about the crack across the screen, and Gray doesn’t mention it.

-----

Natsu [11:38] i think i can drive up on the 13th, does that work for you? xo

Gray [12:20] I think so, let me talk to Joel.

-----

“You’re bailing on movie night again?”

Erza stands in the door to the kitchen, hair pulled up in a messy bun, arms crossed over her chest. Gray hates the look she’s giving him, and he forces himself to ignore it and focus on tying his laces.

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking at his watch. “I know it’s really last-minute, but Joel asked me to—”

“It’s always last minute,” Erza interrupts. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Gray sighs, standing up and running his fingers through his hair. “Erza, I live here,” he says patiently, gesturing down the hallway to his room. “I see you every day.”

“Saying hey, have a good day while you’re staring at your phone and leaving the apartment doesn’t count as seeing you,” Erza says, shaking her head. “I miss you.”

“You have Jellal,” Gray says sullenly, leaning back against the door. He’s supposed to meet Joel in twenty minutes, and Joel hates being late.

“Ellie.” Erza’s voice is kinder than Gray expects, and when he looks up at her, he can’t really read her expression. “You’re one of my best friends. I just miss spending time with you.”

Gray fiddles with the buttons on his shirt – it was a birthday gift from Joel, a dark blue that matches his eyes. It fits just right over the binder they ordered online, and it makes Gray feel right.

“Does Joel... not like us?” Erza asks gently, and Gray looks up at her quickly.

“What? Why would you ask that?” Gray asks, frowning.

“He just doesn’t seem to want to come over here,” Erza says, pulling her hair out of its bun and combing it out, then starting to braid it. “I mean, you guys have been dating for what – four months? And I feel like we’ve seen him maybe twice?”

Gray groans, tipping his head back and staring at the patterns on the ceiling. “Please don’t lecture me, I’m getting enough of that from Natsu.” Erza gives Gray a look and he rolls his eyes. “You’re moving so fast, we never talk anymore, blah blah blah – look, he left. You wanted me to move on, and I am, and now you’re giving me shit about it!”

Erza gives Gray a look that, a year ago, would have had him cowering. Now he glares right back at her, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I’m not giving you shit about anything,” Erza says, stepping forward and reaching out for Gray. He grumbles, but lets her pull him closer. “I’m happy that you’re happy. So’s Natsu.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Gray mumbles.

Erza doesn’t say anything, just hugs him tighter and presses a kiss to his head. She smells like popcorn, and for a minute, Gray feels guilty. Then he remembers that Joel is waiting for him.

“I’m sorry, I gotta go,” he says, pulling back and squeezing Erza’s hands. “Next weekend we’ll do movie night, okay?”

“Promise?” Erza asks, and Gray nods absently.

“Yeah. Promise.”

-----

Natsu [13:49] hey, how’d your calc test go? we still good to talk tmw? xo

Natsu [18:33] elllllllie. ells. ell-e-phant. answer your phooooone.

Natsu [20:14] seriously, whats up with you? i miss you

Natsu [21:22] erza says you bailed on her again – dude, whats going on?

Natsu [23:56] im gonna spam you with cute kittens until you answer me

Natsu [22:57] attachment .gif

Natsu [22:58] attachment .gif

Natsu [22:59] attachment .gif

Natsu [23:00] attachment .gif

Natsu [23:23] its 11:11 so i wished for my best friend to text me... <3

Gray [01:34] Heyy sry was at a partty, dunno if we can call tmw but I miss you too <3

-----

By the time they leave the party, it’s almost two in the morning, so Gray crashes at Joel’s place. His roommates are both asleep, and as soon as Joel closes the bedroom door behind them, he grabs Gray around the waist and nudges him onto the bed.

“You look fuckin’ hot as hell,” Joel murmurs against Gray’s skin, hands slipping up under Gray’s shirt and rubbing circles on his back. Gray’s exhausted and still pretty drunk, but he hums and lets Joel kiss his neck. “All my friends are jealous, y’know.”

“Hmm?” Gray blinks at Joel blearily as Joel pushes him back and hovers over him, fingers tugging at the buttons of Gray’s shirt.

“I saw Seth staring at your ass,” Joel says, settling between Gray’s legs and pressing down against him. “He was checkin’ you out all night.”

“’s cause you bought me nice jeans,” Gray mumbles, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Then he frowns, tipping his head back so he can see Joel’s face a bit clearer. “Do… do any of them know I’m…”

Joel shakes his head. “Babe, nobody thinks you’re a girl.” He runs his fingers through Gray’s close-cropped hair and tugs on it gently, tipping his head to the side to press kisses across his throat. “You’re not a girl.”

Gray nods, then runs his hands down to Joel’s hips, stilling the way he’s grinding against Gray.

“What’s wrong?” Joel asks, pulling back and frowning.

“I…” Gray chews his lip. “I’ve been thinking.” He hesitates. “About, like… hormones and stuff. Or surgery, I dunno.”

Joel sits up, studying Gray’s face before running his hands up Gray’s stomach to the edge of his binder. “You wanna get rid of these?” he teases, slipping his fingers under the tight fabric. Gray gives him a half-hearted glare and knees him gently in the ribs.

“Yeah,” he says. “I just… I dunno how to talk to my dad about it.”

Gray’s parents still think he’s a girl, and Gray doesn’t know if he can tell them. His dad’s the pastor in Magnolia now, and Gray’s pretty sure his sermons don’t include love for people like Gray.

“Fuck ‘em,” Joel says. His words are slurred from drinking but his gaze is intent. Gray frowns. Joel’s met his parents, once, and Gray’s mom adored him. “They… if they don’t like who you are, then they shouldn’t be in your life.”

“But…” Gray pushes himself up on his elbows and shakes his head, trying to clear it. “They’re my parents.”

“If they don’t love you for who you are, who cares what they think?” Joel argues. He runs his hands back down to Gray’s sides and squeezes. “I love you just like this.”

“I know,” Gray says softly, tugging Joel down for a kiss. “And I wanna be me, all the time.”

Gray hasn’t really mentioned the idea of actually transitioning to anyone else. With everyone other than Joel, he’s still Ellie, even though he's tried over and over again to tell Natsu. It just never comes out right, and he ends up deleting the words before he can send them.

“You can always be who you are with me,” Joel says, pressing their foreheads together. “Hey, y’know... y’know what? We should live together. Then... you can be you all the time.”

Gray blinks in surprise, trying to pull back to look at Joel, but Joel shakes his head and kisses Gray again instead. He tastes like cheap beer and cigarettes, and his stubble scratches Gray’s bottom lip. Gray sighs, sinking back into the mattress.

“Okay,” he says against Joel’s lips. “Yeah. Let’s... talk about it in the mornin’.”

-----

Natsu – 2hrs ago Missed Call

Natsu – 1hr ago Missed Call

Natsu – 38min ago Missed Call

Natsu – 12min ago 12 Messages

Natsu – 2min ago Missed Call

[madamrogersstorytelling]

Of New Beginnings — 1: Lullaby Boy

Ryan Brenner/Reader

It’s my birthday today and I figured that why not to post one cute Ryan fic on this day. Birthday has a significant role in the plot of this story, so I thought it’d be funny to post this on my own birthday. The song he has written is written by me and I hope it’s not total shit. It’s where this fic gets its name - the one in brackets has a meaning in the fic too, it’s not the song’s name. The other songs you can see parts of are not mine, their names and original singers are mentioned in the fic. Using just for fun and story purposes. I hope you all like this, even though it got a bit long.

Huge thanks to @padfootagain​ for suggesting Don McLean’s song and reading the song I wrote!

This eventually became a series.

Words: 6418

You were sure that if you’d get up now, it would draw all the attention right to you. Everyone was focused on the young man singing at the end of the pub, and during this moment you were happy Carrie had eventually given in. You knew your friend was one of those girls who liked to go to bars and find a nice guy or two for you girls to chat with, but you were different. You never fancied those guys; they were always too clingy, came too close and their breathing was a mix of cigarettes and cheap smell of alcohol. That you can get with only a few coins from the shops. By the end of the night, the guys still stepping on your heels when you tried to get rid of them (and you blamed Carrie for that), you promised yourself that never again.

This night was the first time you had had been able to change Carrie’s way of spending her Friday night. You could see it in her eyes; she was still longing for neon lights and bright drinks with umbrellas and those guys who you were able to elude only when you found them some other place to get more drinks or stepped into a cab.

That was who Carrie was and the reason why you loved her so much. She was always on your side (except during these times she knew very well what she needed after a shitty and hard week at work – and she seemed to have those often), took care of you and knew perfectly well what you needed when you got sad or sick or just felt off. She knew how to increase the happiness level when you were already bursting. She was good at that. She never told your secrets and did everything she could to protect you, kick you towards something. You two had known each other since school, and she was practically your mentor.

Even though, sometimes it felt like you were her mother.

Now she was whining every once in a while, telling you how this pub was nothing compared to the bar a few blocks away. She was dying to get there. You weren’t just going to give in; only over your dead body.

That was partly because you had seen him. The young man singing at the end of the pub, playing his guitar and sitting on a black stool. He was covering Kenny Rogers’ The Gambler when you paid closer attention to him; he had been singing since you had come inside with Carrie, but it wasn’t unusual to this pub to have someone playing. Yes, you had been in this very pub before. Sometimes after work when you were in desperate need of food and a warm drink. That was something you had wanted to give Carrie, to show her that stress and irritation didn’t have to be killed with alcohol.

“Y/N, are you serious?” It was the third time in a quarter of an hour Carrie whined something similar. It always had the same meaning; the words she used were just different.

Can we go now?

I’m bored to death… When did you become this old, boring fart?

Y/N, we’re breaking up. You get the couch, I take everything else. You won’t see our children ever again.

When you told her that neither of you had children, just to shut her up, she told that the TV and the fridge could be seen as children. Carrie got silly when she wanted to get reactions out of you, but after that she really shut up. She probably saw how you paid no attention to her.

“Yes, I’m very serious,” your voice was closer to a whisper than anything else.

He was so focused on what he was doing that he seemed to have forgotten where he was. You found yourself thinking that a pub like this was not the place for a musician like him. This was the place for those who had woken up a bit too late to realize they wanted to be Johnny Cash, Elton John, Bonnie Tyler or some other musician from the old days. You had seen everything from a very poor Elvis Presley imitation to some decent versions of Billy Joel’s Piano Man, but they were nothing compared to this, compared to him.  

He had dark hair that had been touched by wind or it was naturally wavy on the back of his neck. Carrie would say he had Lullaby Boy’s physique, whatever that meant, you still hadn’t been able to figure that out. She had words for everything. You weren’t able to spot what he had on his fingers but you saw he most likely had tattoos. He had a black sweater on, sleeves pulled up on his elbows and a sand-brown, worn-out cap on his locks. The beard he had was a bit more than just stubble of a few days, and you could see from where you were sitting with Carrie that his eyes were just as dark as his hair.

He played the last note of The Gambler and people clapped their hands. It was like an unwritten rule, everybody joined in; the pub wasn’t crowded that night, there were only a few people here and there, but all those hands clapped together gave an illusion of a big audience. He got modest and showed a smile, looking like he was pushing out a chuckling breath.

You heard one of the regulars in a lodge closer to him drawing his attention to him and his friends with a loud “hey, boy”.

“Play Piano Man, would ya?”

You chuckled. Roger never got enough of the versions of his long-time favorite song. He always told it was about him; he had been Piano Man when he was younger. Now he was one of those men who wore leather jackets during their free time and tweed coats when they were needed. His friends, those three other men he was always with, agreed on Roger’s wish and asked the young man with the guitar did he know that song.

“Yeah, I know the song,” he said. It was quiet in the pub, so you were able to hear his voice. It was deep, it was husky, there was something extremely beautiful in it and you felt you could almost touch it.

“How about House of the Rising Sun?”

“I know that too,” he nodded.

Roger looked at his friend and made a long and low snorting sound. The man with the guitar touched his nose and smiled a short but gentle smile.

“Come on, boy, play Piano Man,” Roger’s hand swung in the air as he leaned back against his seat.

“Always Piano Man… That man has no sense of classics,” you turned your head to see two elderly women a few tables away from the one you and Carrie were sitting at. Before you could turn back towards the man with the physique of Lullaby Boy (you made a mental note of asking Carrie what that meant exactly), he was already playing the first notes of the song. His eyes fell closed, the words filled the pub, and you were able to see all the emotions he had by the way his face reacted to the words and notes.

“Now I get it,” you were able to hear Carrie’s voice as she spoke knowingly. “He is why you wanted to come here…”

“No, I’ve never seen him before,” you answered but couldn’t turn your gaze away from him. You were in the middle of the veil his singing had created over the people in the pub. You felt his warmth; you felt the lyrics… and the tears burning behind your eyes.

“Sing us a song you're the piano man

Sing us a song tonight

Well we're all in the mood for a melody

And you got us feeling alright”

When he opened his eyes and his gaze rose up from the floor, then from Roger and his hand that tapped the melody on the corner of his table, his eyes found you. You met them without looking for a way to escape, like you always did with the guys at the bars, you looked at him when he sang and played.

It was only a few seconds long gaze but not the last. Every once in a while his dark eyes found their way back to you, and after a while you were able to smile to him. Smiling back to you, he reached the end of the song, and with the way Roger was clapping his hands, you knew he had heard the best version of his favorite song.

“He’s good,” Carrie said next to you, not even a hint of a whine present in her voice. “Really good, actually…”

“Yeah… He’s really good,” you looked at him, not paying attention to Roger’s friend who turned around in the lodge to see the young man better. Looking at the four men, the one on the stool smiled kindly, nodded his head and let his fingers touch the strings, so the guitar made a warm sound.

He stole glances towards you every once in a while and wasn’t exactly hiding it. No one seemed to notice what he did, still. You were happy about that; Carrie noticing it was enough.

“He’s looking at you, Y/N. You should go and to talk to him. Catch this Lullaby Boy.”

When his eyes were back on Roger and his friends, you turned to look at Carrie next to you. She sat there with chin against her palm and this knowing, pushing look in her eyes. Her smile was even worse; she knew these things. She knew what kind of men drew your attention, was very aware of the fact that none of the guys at the bars had done that. Partly, she felt bad for it. Her complaints had been just testing your true will. She had seen how you were looking at Lullaby Boy.

She knew you were doing all this because you wanted her to do something else than drink her head off and she appreciated your determination and kindness. But the truth was, this wasn’t her place – but it really was yours. She didn’t know how many times you had been here, but by the way you sat and seemed to be perfectly comfortable, she could tell this wasn’t your first time. Not even the second or third, something much different.

Carrie was happy for you. You had finally found a place you felt comfortable in. Now all you needed was a clear path in life, a new beginning. She was so close to you that she was able to read from the way you held your hand that something bothered you, and recently that had been going on a lot. Your last year and a half hadn’t been the easiest. She had walked with you, caught you when you had almost fallen but knew that what you really needed was a new road to walk.

You needed a new beginning.

And now, as she looked at you listening to Lullaby Boy, she knew you were a step closer to that.

Somehow she knew. She was known to have a good sense of that kind of things; she had more often than not been right. She relaxed a bit and let her long, blonde hair’s ends touch the table.

“That man’s bothering him; go to save the poor boy.”

“That’d be rude… They’re having a conversation…”

“Stop being a saint, Y/N! He looks like he wants the floor to swallow him now and not on next Wednesday. It’s nowhere near rude if you – “

Carrie’s sentence drifted off under the sound of your phone’s angry pinging.

Your face dropped as you looked at the screen, anxiety taking over your body. Carrie could see your despair in the way your body shifted.

“No… No, no, no…”

“What is it?” Carrie frowned at your face.

You quickly started to gather your stuff. There wasn’t much to gather, so you were able to say in the middle of it: “I have to go.”

When you got up, you looked at the man for the last time. He had just started to sing Don McLean’s Vincent and he looked confused when he met your sorry gaze. The next thing he saw was you running out of the pub with your blonde friend after you, hair swinging in the rhythm of her steps.

“Now I understand what you tried to say to me

And how you suffered for your sanity

How you tried to set them free

They would not listen, they did not know how

Perhaps they'll listen now”

 ********************

 After that disastrous Friday night, after getting the message from your mother telling your grandfather had had to go to a hospital, you had looked for Lullaby Boy. You went back to the pub when you could, but it was Monday evening and he wasn’t there.

You went there the next evening as well.

On Friday you thought the floor had probably swallowed him and blamed Roger for it. He was sitting in the same lodge with the same four friends as always, and you even asked them. But they didn’t know a thing. Only that he had left after playing two more songs after Vincent and hadn’t come back.

So, neither did you.

Your birthday was coming, and it made you sad. You readied yourself to spend it alone, to have a double date with chocolate and wine. What could have been sadder than sitting on the couch on your own birthday, alone, eating chocolate and drinking cheap wine? It was bad, what’s more. Horrible. Nauseating.

What was even worse? The fact that you were going to watch some crappy TV. And when does a person watch crappy TV, eat chocolate and drink wine on her own, on her birthday while being sad?

When everything goes downhill with the speed of a cheetah.

All that when you thought nothing could be worse.

Carrie kicked the end of the couch you were sitting on, refusing to ever again get up and meet the world. The old tears that had dried on your cheeks for so many reasons, missed moments, stupid decisions and frustrated anger, were now showing how desperate you were. Carrie dropped herself on the couch next to you and pulled you in her arms, almost on her lap and swayed you a little.

You cried. You cried everything out, and Carrie was there holding you. When you stopped, she stayed still and didn’t let you move; her hand was in your hair as the other one was wrapped tightly around your back.

“I broke up,” she told you as if it was nothing. You looked up at her with red and swollen eyes, letting out a sorry whining sound, mumbling your apologies, but Carrie only shook her head. “We weren’t right for each other. I think I knew it. But it’s not the point. The point is that you have to cancel that double date. We’re going out on your birthday, you and me, us, together.”

Groaning you hid your face against Carrie’s ultramarine blouse. “Carrie, you know perfectly well I don’t want to spend my birthday at a bar!”

You could hear her chuckles turning into half-giggles. “No, silly, I wouldn’t do that to you!”

“What then?”

She huffed. “I’m not telling you that. It wouldn’t be surprise after that.”

You peeked up at her eyes, your face still pressed tightly against her blouse. “What does Lullaby Boy’s physique mean?”

Carrie had this very satisfied look in her eyes, and it made you almost worried. There was something coming for your birthday, but at the moment you wanted nothing more than to have your poor double date and let the couch eat you.  

You wanted to forget him. You were probably never going to see him again, and what had those glances meant anyway? That’s what people do, they look at each other.

But the way he had looked at you… And you knew you had returned the looks.

They hadn’t been ‘oh, a new person’ looks. They had been ‘a new person I want to get to know’ looks, and you sighed.

‘A new person I want’ looks.

Turned into ‘a new person I won’t get’ looks when you had left.

You could’ve talked to him. There had been gaps for that. But you had thought you were being nice, that you could talk to him when he finished singing and now… Now you had lost every chance of seeing him ever again.

Maybe he wouldn’t have been the right for you, like Carrie’s boyfriend wasn’t right for her. Kenny was always a nice guy, but not all the couples can be a perfect match. Maybe this was better…

It still hurt.

The way he had looked at you… His voice, his fingers on the strings… His face…

Everything in him.

“Well, someone who’s not a Vin Diesel type of guy but not a string bean either,” Carrie’s words snatched you out of your miserable thoughts.

You let out a broken laugh. Vin Diesel was Carrie’s number one celebrity crush. “That’s not very specific. I think I’ll need a bit more to get your point.”

Carrie pouted at you. “Hmm, well… This one you’re thinking about,” she caught you, and you hid your face against her blouse again, “the Lullaby Boy, certainly is someone to lean against. You’re a daydreamer, and I know how you like your boys. Daydream Boy just doesn’t sound catchy!”

Your cheek was against her blouse as you moved your head a little, so your words wouldn’t get muffled against the material. “That name’s for the guys you think I could like? Oh, look, that one is such a Lullaby Boy!” Your imitation of Carrie was snotty and teary, but it made your friend laugh anyways.

“Basically,” he hummed, “but now it’ll be the name for him only. Would be a sin to call anyone else Lullaby Boy after someone like him.”

“Like it’d make any difference now… I will never find him again…”

“You’re such a pessimist, Y/N,” Carrie let out an exaggerated groan. “Try to be positive for once, okay? You’ll end up being a wrinkled old lady before being forty if you continue like this! I’m going to give you one hell of a kick on your birthday to get you closer to being this happy and living Y/N I know! I hate to see you sad… What could we do to make you happy?”

“Not only me, Carrie. You just broke up… How are you not sad?”

“Would be mean to show it; I feel pain and I miss Kenny, but I have better things to do than wallowing in my loss. You’re more important,” she hugged you tighter, and you let out a sound of a young child, this high-pitched squealing sound.

You could feel the new tears in your eyes. Maybe Carrie was right…

“Promise me you’ll come with me? Cancel the double date with Guylian and Pinot noir?”

You sniffed. “Okay… I’ll come with you. But just because you ask me so nicely, not because I want to stand up those nice guys.”

“Of course,” Carrie ruffled your hair. “You’ll love it, I promise. And perhaps me even more afterwards, too.”

You hummed softly in agreement. You weren’t sure could you love Carrie any more than you already did, but you were certainly going to.

“Now, could Bruce Willis keep us company tonight?” Carrie took the remote and started to scroll Netflix, other arm wrapped around your back.

She picked Die Hard, never letting go of you; she set the remote on the arm rest and the hand came back against your hair.

You were already a bit happier. Nothing could make you happier than watching your friend getting excited while seeing her celebrity crushes on screen.

 ********************

 Your birthday had started with you wanting to stay in bed for the rest of the day. Carrie had let you be, but by noon she was practically dragging you out of your comfort zone, away from your new best friend.

Even though, you were still dreaming about Lullaby Boy. You wanted to know his name…

In those dreams he was sitting on the same stool, he had the same black sweater and the sleeves up on his elbows, playing the same guitar, singing Piano Man. Sometimes he looked at you, sometimes didn’t. You always woke up when he got up to get to you.

Carrie had gotten over Kenny quicker than you had thought she would. They were together for three years, and you could see Carrie really liked the guy. But she somehow seemed to have forgotten him already; she was too excited about your birthday. It was suspicious.

She was either going to assassinate you for fun or get you to face your worst fears.

She loved it when you screamed during horror movies. Didn’t matter were you doing it out of fear or just because you wanted the characters to know they weren’t supposed to do things they did. Those were the reasons why she was probably going to take you to a real life horror movie tonight.

But then she got you into a cab with her and told the place to the driver. You frowned as you turned to look at her.

“Carrie…?”

She smiled as she turned to look at you. “Y/N?”

“We’re going to the pub?”

The look on your face made her place her hand over yours. “We’re going to the pub.”

“Why? You never liked it there.”

She chuckled, holding your hand with hers. “Y/N dear, it’s your birthday. Try not to think about everyone else for once, okay?”

You stared at her for a while longer until your gaze found its way out of the window. You could recognize the streets as the cab got closer to the pub.

You hadn’t been there after that Friday. And now that Carrie was taking you there, you didn’t know how to feel.

Maybe the real life horror movie would’ve been better… Maybe this was the real life horror movie.

Soon it was the time for you to get out of the cab. Carrie paid, she insisted. You stood by the sidewalk and stared at the door of the pub, the warmth you could feel even when still outside. You remembered every single picture of an American musician, football player, every single one. All those license plates on the walls, one from each state. The brown, wooden tables and chairs, lodges and the warm atmosphere. Roger and his friends, those elderly women, the owner John who gave you drinks for free. Not because he tried to hit on you, simply because it was his way to do things. You weren’t the only one getting free drinks; he never gave free alcohol, only coffee or hot chocolate or tea. He didn’t want a reputation.

You understood John.

Carrie took you by your left arm and started to walk you inside before you could escape. She opened the door for you, making sure her gaze was on your face all the time. She was intimidating enough when she stared at you that you couldn’t even consider escaping.

You were still able to ask questions, though.

“Why did we come here, Carrie?” You sounded sadder than you had meant to.

“I’ll let you find that out by yourself,” she said in lightweight voice, giving you one last look after letting you go by the table she picked for the two of you. It was closer to the end than the one you had chosen the last time, much closer to Roger and his friends loudly claiming their usual lodge.

Carrie practically sat you down on the chair. Almost immediately after it John came to your table with two cups of hot chocolate with cream and marshmallows. He smiled in the middle of his mustache and beard and tapped your shoulder when he set the cup down in front of you.

“Happy birthday, kid,” John was almost 60 years old, grey-haired man with a lot similar beard to the one Hagrid had in Harry Potter movies. You had liked him since the first second, and his sincere and genuine smile and tap on your shoulder made you smile.

“Thank you, John,” you looked up at his eyes that were blue in one light and green in some other.

“You don’t have to pay for that, Carrie. I’m giving them for free. It’s Y/N’s birthday after all,” John hurried to stop your friend as her hand disappeared inside her black purse. When he spoke about your birthday, John smiled to you again.

You smiled back to him and then turned towards Carrie, frowning.

How did John know her name?

“No, I wasn’t going to. I’ve heard stories of you, John. Free coffees and cocoas and stuff,” Carrie’s other hand was making very odd movements in the air as the other was still in the purse. She took her phone out when she finally found it with a long and relieved sigh.

John chortled warmly. “Yes, well… Have a nice night. You’ll get whatever you want, Y/N. For your birthday,” he gave you a fatherly nod and pat on the back and left you to get back to the bar. You had enough time to thank him and then he was gone, his tall and big form sailing back. His low voice echoed on the walls as he whistled to get Roger’s attention and then asked would they like some more whiskey.

Carrie nibbled on a marshmallow as she looked at the screen of her phone. You could see her smiling through the candy. Her lips moved to form a silent word, something you read as perfect but wasn’t entirely sure. Then she dropped her phone back in her purse and turned to look at you.

“Hey, birthday girl! These marshmallows are so good, oh my god…”

She looked like she was trying to hide something. You frowned as you looked at her, pulling your mug closer as if she could suddenly steal your marshmallows.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course,” she took the cup by her lips. “Why?”

“You’re acting weird. Should I be worried?”

“No, you should not,” she held the cup with both of her hands, and you stared at her. For so long you woke up only when you heard Roger cheering and saw Carrie’s smile. You turned your head…

“What – “

You never got to the end.

He was there.

Lullaby Boy was there. He sat on the black stool with his guitar. This time he didn’t have the cap on and his shirt dark and deep shade of purple instead of black. You could see the ends of white shirt’s sleeves and start of its neck under it. He looked down on the floor as he sat down and played with his guitar for a moment. Then he saw Roger and his friends and gave them a smile.

When he started to play the first song, you recognized it immediately. John Denver’s Country Roads filled the pub; his voice filled the pub…

And he looked at you. His lips twitched a little as if he was trying to hold back a smile. You were still able to see it and gave him one of your own smiles.

“I hear her voice, in the morning hour she calls me

The radio reminds me of my home far away

And driving down the road I get a feeling

That I should have been home yesterday, yesterday

 Country roads, take me home

To the place I belong

West Virginia, mountain mama

Take me home, country roads”

You could feel Carrie’s eyes on you; saw her smile hanging on the corner of your eye. But you had eyes for Lullaby Boy, for only him.

He was here. How was he here? You had thought you’d never see him again.

He fell silent when the song ended. In the middle of applauds he looked at you, leaning his hand against the guitar. His smile was so warm and gentle you thought it lasted for a small eternity.

Then Roger was breaking it again.

“Nice to see you back, boy,” he said and got Lullaby Boy’s attention. “House of the Rising Sun, would ya? You said you know the song.”

“Sorry, Roger,” he said and turned to look at you again. “Not now…”

You couldn’t see Roger’s face but the way his head moved told he was confused. His friend who was sitting opposite to him followed Lullaby Boy’s gaze and found you. You hardly noticed soon all of them were looking at you.

Then Lullaby Boy started to speak.

“I was told that it’s someone’s birthday today. And I was also told that this girl… She’s looking for herself, could use some encouragement. As someone who’s still looking for himself and… sort of where am I gonna go next and how am I gonna get there…” He was silent for a moment. It was filled with a smile and looking right into your eyes, and that way got you feel the tears behind them. There was something between you and him, something deep and eternal, like you had known each other for many lifetimes. “I wrote her a song. I hope I can give her a reason to keep looking; there’s always something. For all of us. We just have to believe… in new beginnings.”

His gaze never left you when he started to play. But it got glued to you when he opened his mouth to sing.

“Give me a half of your tears

We have a long way to go

But I promise to carry them all

Over every bridge and

Through every detour we may take

In the calling wind of the seven seas

In the waves of freedom

They're waiting for you to follow

 Just when you think

The road is long

And you have no reason

To go on

When you think

You've lost the way

I will hold your hand

 You don't have to fear

Just remember

This life is made

Of new beginnings

 That's how I light my fires

I close the doors between

Me and my doubts

When the tide rolls in

I force it to walk past me

'Cause it can only take, not give

And I'm not showing myself to it

 All that is in you now

All you need to survive somehow

Make it through the winds and storms

See the red light of the newborn dawn

Find the courage to dip your fingers in

The ink for writing the story of you

It's all where it needs to be

Right there

In your soul

 Hush now

Tonight and on the days on end

Don't be afraid, my dear

She told me a story of an aching soul

But what I see is yet to grow

The love for life

The world is out there for you to find

 Run, my girl, take that freedom

This world is made for us

Of new beginnings

The stars in our eyes

The gold of our hearts

And the road is long

But you're not alone

 Hand on heart

I swear

I'll be there

When you find your path

Yourself in the middle

Of new beginnings”

You could feel yourself tearing up. The cup of hot chocolate was getting cold in front of you, but you didn’t care.

“H-how?” It was the only thing you got out. Your voice was small and full of tears that didn’t get out as you looked at Lullaby Boy.

“It was me. I came to look for him. John’s in this with me. I got Lullaby Boy’s number and called him to be here on this very day. His name is Ryan,” Carrie started to speak. She was halfway through her own drink but left it there. “Happy birthday, Y/N.”

You turned to Lullaby Boy, who had stopped singing and was just sitting there on the stool with this same shy and modest look in his eyes. Everyone was clapping their hands again, even harder and for a longer time now.

Then you realized what John’s part was in all this.

His low voice filled the air again as he called out for Roger: “Play us your banjo a bit, would you?”

And suddenly, Roger was in it too. “I’d love to, John. Let me just…” He got up with his banjo he apparently had with him and walked towards Lullaby Boy. He had stood up and they met halfway, Roger grabbed his shoulder.

He was a bit shorter than Lullaby Boy but was still able to say close to his face: “That was a good one, boy. Go, get the girl.”

At the same time, Carrie turned to look at you. “This is the moment you get your ass up and take your chance. Wipe your tears and make yourself happy.”

“What if he doesn’t…?”

Carrie didn’t let you stop. She shook her head. “He does. Go. Get your new beginning.”

You got up when Roger left Lullaby Boy alone and took his place on the stool. He still had his guitar when he made his way towards you and touched the back of his neck with his free hand. Roger playing his banjo was escorting the both of you as you made it towards each other.

He was handsome. He was even beautiful. His eyes were so brown they were almost black and his features were so gentle and soft. When he stood there in front of you, you felt it deeper; like you had known him for long.

“Ryan…” Saying his name felt good. It felt right. “Thank you for the song. I… It was beautiful. I really needed it.”

“You’re welcome,” he took a quick glance at Carrie who was smiling. “And… I know. Your friend told me why you had to leave, how you were… I was… I’m glad I stayed in town. I’m glad that I can be here tonight.”

You weren’t mad at Carrie about telling Ryan. She had done it to tell it had had nothing to do with him. And it hadn’t; you would’ve stayed but your family had needed you. Your grandfather had gone home from the hospital by now and everything was fine.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Ryan’s voice got softer and deeper when he said that, so that only you could hear it. The way he said your name gave you butterflies; he was so close you could’ve touched him if you wanted. But you didn’t do it.

“Thank you…” You could feel how your cheeks flushed. “Want to… want to sit with us?”

“Oh no, no, no,” Carrie was suddenly next to you, nodded her hellos to Ryan and then turned to you. “I’m leaving. My work here is done.”

“Carrie, you can’t…”

“I can. Y/N, I won’t disappear from your life. I’ll just give you some space. I’ll be home when you come.”

You couldn’t say anything; just wrap your arms around your friend. She hugged you tightly against her as you buried your face against her shoulder. “I thought we’d spend my birthday together…”

“We will have many birthdays to spend together, Y/N. You need this, trust me. Besides, I met someone,” she pulled back to look into your eyes and she gave you so bright smile it practically blinded you.

Ryan was smiling at her but didn’t interrupt the conversation.

“You met someone… Carrie,” you were able to spot a black-haired young man by the table you had sat at. Your cup of hot chocolate was still there and seemed untouched. “I can’t thank you enough. When I come home, we’ll – “

“When you come home, we’ll both be happy. Stay. Bye now,” she glanced at Ryan and nodded to him before kissed your cheek and left with the young man.

Ryan sat with you, and John gave him a coffee. You got a new hot chocolate, but finished the cold one anyways. For the rest of the evening you chatted, got to know each other; Ryan played bits of songs you said to him, sang the parts he knew. He wanted you to sing to him.

By the end of the night, you had a feeling of knowing for far longer time than one night.

And he felt the same way about you. When he looked at you… He saw someone he wanted to keep. He had made that promise; he only needed you to want the same. It was getting late and he’d have to say it if he wanted to make sure.

“Y/N,” he said after helping you with your coat, “can I… ask you something?”

“Of course,” you turned to face him, cheeks a bit crimson from laughter and the fact that he had touched you, even though so casually.

“Would you… Is it any way possible that you’d like to,” he looked right into your eyes, “see me again?”

It caught you off guard. Even though, you had thought about the same thing. Ryan was nice, he was funny and smart and gorgeous and creative and thoughtful… just somewhat perfect.

But you thought you had pink glasses on. Would he want to see you again? Now you knew he would, and your cheeks turned crimson. But so did his.

“Yes,” you said, seeing him biting his lower lip, “I’d love to see you again, Ryan. Many times.”

He was closer to you, smiling. He was holding his guitar with his right hand, but the left cupped your jawline. “I’m very happy about that…” He almost whispered. His brown eyes looked right into your eyes and his thumb stroked your skin. It found the corner of your lips and stopped there.

Felt like time had stopped. You didn’t hear Roger’s banjo, not his loud voice singing a little out of tune, not the door opening and closing – it was like you were in your very own world, just the two of you.

His lips were soft against yours, body warm as it was brushing yours, eyes looking down at you and – you had nowhere else to be. This was your place. With your Lullaby Boy of new beginnings.

****

Tag List: @padfootagain @billyrvsso @jennareedus @mamaraptor @suchatinyinfinity @delicatelilyflower @whostheblondegirl @something-tofightfor

[thelonelytraveler11]

Is this really the best I can do?!

It's been three years since I've done any form of research. I haven't worked in almost three years. Just in case anyone's wondering, yes, I filled out job applications (a lot, like ~250 before I gave up). For the past couple years, I've been living off my savings, the little bit of money I get from my family, and the little bit of money I get from having part time jobs. My work experience since dropping out has been pretty dismal (on average), I haven't been able to hold down a job that gave an appreciable amount of money for longer than 3 months at a time without being fired or being so miserable that I just said "fuck it" and quit.

I understand the concern some may have. You may consider it my fault for being unemployed. Quitting a job that I'm miserable while doing may seem irrational or irresponsible, but speaking as a person who spent almost the entirety of his college years being miserable, I can say with all honesty that being broke is better than being miserable. I envy those that can’t seem to comprehend my way of thinking, because that probably means they have a very good life. I wouldn't want to work in an environment that negatively affects my emotional state for 4 decades anyways. Having disposable income isn’t more important than my well being. Having a job I actually enjoy doing is very important to me because I don't have many sources of happiness in my life.

I'm kind of a loner. I don't have a strong relationship with any of my relatives and I don't have friends anymore (and even more troubling, I don't care to have those types of relationships anymore). The only potential source of happiness is my job. I don't foresee me failing in love or developing a close relationship with anyone. If the current trend continues, I think its more probable that it doesn’t happen.

I feel numb most of the time and when I do feel something, I'm usually thinking about my college days and that something is usually anger. It honestly was my biggest regret, going to the University of Illinois. Sometimes I wished I never went to college. Literally the only thing that was even remotely good about my college experience was my grades, everything else sucked. Looking back, I wish I went back to working at CVS after I graduated from HS.

In the alternate timeline, I probably would have been better off in the long run (very little stress, no debt, live rent free at my mom's house for a couple of years after graduation while working a presumably full time job which would enable me to save up a fair amount of cash before moving out). Instead, I came away with nothing. My college education was completely worthless, I reaped no benefits from being a degree recipient. All I did was waste 7 years of my life and thousands of other people’s dollars studying stuff that ultimately wouldn't matter. If I were a benefactor for the UIUC department of chemistry, I would be pissed to hear my story because that means my money isn't being put to good use, especially if I added into one of the scholarships that was awarded to me.

So, I know what your wondering, why am I writing this post? Well, I was trying to get ride time with CFD and I called for a specific person that wasn't in. Someone took a message and wrote my name down as Joel Dennison. Dennison was the last name of the NMR guy at UCI. That got me thinking about my college days and how I hated basically everyone. I caught myself looking through emails and for the most part, the more I read, the more I remembered, the more enraged I got. Now that's one sure fire way to put me in a bad mood, get me thinking about the bad ol' days. I bet many of the people I went to grad school with are enjoying their careers, while I was completely forgotten (and if they're not enjoying them, well at least they have them).

I’ve always wondered why were the other students so complicit? Is racism really that prevalent? Is there something else going on? See, it's one thing to not say anything while they were still students because it runs the risk of them being treated like I was treated. But to not even offer a helping hand even after their careers were established, knowing what they know, is un-fucking-real.

I never really felt welcomed in chemistry. People seemed to be more in love with the idea of me. I noticed the longer I stayed, the worse I was treated. At U of I, it was .... kinda bad. I experienced a form a discrimination where I would have written essentially the same answer as my lighter counterparts but received lower grades (slightly lower, but still). People assumed I did well in certain classes because the professor "liked me" (pretty sure no one at U of I liked me much). People also made statements that are crazy racist and then tried to pass them off as jokes. I fucking hated life in Champaign-Urbana.

SIDE NOTE: the following story doesn't necessarily reflect the chemists, but it does represent a subset of the student body at U of I. So, I'm sitting in the cafeteria with three dudes I already knew and some guy from the next table looks over to me and says "Sorry, if I offended you". I calmly replied "what did you say?" And Oh....My....God.... the look of utter fear was plastered all over his face. I said, "What did you say?", again, calmly. I can not stress enough that I was visibly calm throughout this entire situation. And then I noticed he was shivering, I figured I would warm up a lil bit by using my hot ass breath, so I repeated the question louder and slower (you know, to give the guy's body time to come to thermal equilibrium), again.......calmly. He was still frozen in fear. So now I am mentally gearing up to jump across this table to snatch this little boy's neck out from under him. And then something miraculous happened, my tunnel vision broke down and I realized someone was calling me. It was Jon (one of the kids I was sitting with) telling me to drop it...so I did......so, yeah, that's the story of how I almost got kicked out of U of I for snatching the neck out from under some little white kid during sophomore year. 


But there was one instance of me being the butt of racist jokes in chemistry that I can remember. Then UIUC grad student, John Overcash (who I believed worked for Ken Suslick), made mention of me "cooking crack up in the kitchen" on more than one occasion. Apparently, since I was a black chem major (that specialized in organic chemistry) I must have been a drug dealer beforehand. Or maybe he thought I was a drug dealer then....who knows...

To make matters worst, people have used the stuff other people made up to put themselves a head of me. Senior year I had an interview with eli lilly. My interview was at 9 am and there was one person interviewing before me at 8 am. The 8 am slot was taken by one Joseph Cullen (a fellow undergrad). During the end of his interview , I could vaguely hear what was said, but it sounded like Cullen told the interviewers that I was a drug dealer. The door opens up, the interviewer shoots me a look and goes into the room where my interviewers were and talks to them. Meanwhile Cullen walks past me. I give him a thumbs up and he walks away chuckling to himself. These are not good signs. I can’t say for certain that these people really believed I was a drug dealer, but their behavior suggested it. It was their reaction to me saying the phrase "nice white crystalline product", that’s what suggested it. I was describing the physical characteristics of the product from a reaction I ran and it just so happen to be a white crystalline solid (...smh). What I want to know why were these people so quick to believe Cullen? Yes, what Cullen said could be true (which it wasn't) but couldn't it also be true that he's trying to give himself a better chance of getting a job by undercutting the competition?

I wish I got a job offer as an undergrad. I honestly didn't want to go to grad school, but I had no other choice. Visiting grad schools was a whole ordeal, I was told in one way or another that I wasn’t welcomed ... at every school. At Scripps I was told explicitly that I wasn’t good enough to be there by complete strangers (how exactly would they know given that they never assessed my ability to think ... who knows). At Indiana University, I was placed in a hotel room by myself because they heard I slept naked. At UCI, I was told that I wouldn’t make it pass my first year (again, by complete strangers). At Caltech, I was told I didn’t belong because I was a drug dealer (or that I look like a drug dealer, apparently).

Now, I ask you, how do drug dealers look exactly? What are they’re defining characteristics? I ask because if you asked someone who lived in Champaign-Urbana for four years to imagine what a drug dealer looks like, they might imagine a srcawny white boy in a frat (not someone that looks like me). What makes the Caltech visit even weirder was that Prof. Sarah Reisman was just standing by, staring at me while I was being told I didn’t belong (by the help, you know, the people who was serving drinks). It was like she was trying to read my facial expressions to get a sense of what type of person I was (or am). Or was she using the help as a proxy to express her own thoughts (I’m not sure)? Was she waiting for me to “defend myself”? 
How would I be able to do that exactly?

SIDE NOTE: it’s impossible to defend yourself when there’s no evidence for or against whatever accusations there may be. It all comes down to what people choose to believe. The help has already chosen to believe I’m a drug dealer (or at least look like one) and I’m willing to bet there’s really nothing I can really do about.

No matter how I analyze the situation, Reisman’s behavior does not reflect positively on her as a person. I’m not sure if she knows this, but she was the primary reason I had to not go to Caltech. I found her behavior to be very off-putting and I got the sense that she didn’t really want me to go to school there. On top of that there was talk of her wanting to have (oral) sex. 


DISCLAIMER: I am effectively asexual, I don’t have sex ... with anyone ... or anything (yes, I actually needed to say both).

Now, I didn’t believe the talk when I first heard it because I thought there was no way a self-respecting, competent professor would admit to wanting to engage in a sexual relationship with a perspective student ... this is what I choose to think. However, the more I heard of her desires to have (oral) sex, the more I believed it. But I never fully accepted the rumors as the truth until my first year at UCI. Reisman came to Irvine for a talk and as always almost all the Organic students showed up. Before the event, I was sitting at the small table with another grad student in my year, her name was Beth R. (I don’t know how to spell her last name and I’m not going to try to google it). Beth ended up mentioning how pretty Reisman looked .... I “mmmhmmm”ed her. I could hear the chatter going on behind me, Reisman seemed mildly disappointed that I didn’t agree. Beth soothed her ill feelings by saying that I didn’t disagree. After the event, I was talking to Prof. Scott Rychnovsky and Reisman came up in the conversion. This was the final nail in the coffin that made me believe the rumors were true. It wasn’t the fact that he said she would’ve blown me, it was the fact that he said it soooo enthusiastically. He was as enthused as a person could possibly be in a professional/academic setting. No one should that enthused by the thought of a man getting his dick sucked as much as Rychnovsky was by the thought of Reisman putting my dick in her mouth, no one. It was kinda weird. 


The thought this woman hocking loogies on my dick tip, and imagining the sensation of warm saliva slowly rolling down my shaft (as I quote lines from the movie, Shaft (the Samuel L. Jackson version...obviously)) as I knock my head back, praying to god that I don’t come away from this situation with paper cuts (she has thin lips) just to look back down after noticing she paused just so she could fill the waves from my pulsating erection and make eye contact as she goes deeper and increases the pace eventually moving to the point where she starts straggling my balls and moaning like Lady Gaga singing a lullaby to baby while stroking my hard cock until I cum for her as Nicole Nava sits beside her while taking notes shouldn’t be even remotely amusing.....TO ANYONE...EVER!!!!!! But apparently to Rychnovsky, it was. It was at that moment I never wanted to be affliated with Caltech as long as Reisman was there. If Caltech and Illinois were the only two places that offered me jobs after finishing the PhD, I’d have to change careers.


Okay, so here’s the thing. I don’t really view professors as people. When I was a student, they were more like encyclopedias that could talk to me. They simply took the form of a human, kinda like a barbie doll. They’re anatomically incorrect, they lack genitalia, so they don’t have a gender. I honestly, believed this. One time, during senior year, I walked in the third floor bathroom in RAL and I saw Prof Steven Zimmerman taking piss. My face immediately screws all the way up, my inside voice says “How is he standing up and taking a piss when he doesn’t have a dick?”.....I thought that....I literally thought that....I shit you not. Just so you know, it wasn’t just Zimmerman, it was every professor. The women are doubly dickless, in my mind Suzanne Blum was like —(Mia Khalifa) because she has negative two dicks inside of her at all times.

DISCLAIMER: just so we’re clear, I’m NOT alluding to the fact that Blum has to get people to agree to have sex with her. Nor am I alluding to the assertion she’ll probably be nothing more than an afterthought for literally anyone. I’m merely trying to stress the fact that I don’t think of professors as people, but as encyclopedias that can talk to me.

I was made to feel unwlecomed at every school I visited. Why? Well, you'll have to ask them. I can honestly say that by the time graduation (from U of I) came around I didn't believe that i would have a successful career as a chemist, but I put everything into this so I couldn't just leave...

Grad school was even worst because on top of being the black kid, I was also the social pariah. The other students did a real good of making me feel unwelcomed. So much so that after two weeks of living in Irvine I stopped trying to make friends. No one seemed interested in being cool with me (I'm basing this off people's behavior ... obviously). And if some of them were, the way they showed it was so unique that I couldn't even recognize it as a sincere attempt to get my attention.

I also experienced some the same stuff I did when I was at U of I. Namely, instructors not giving me what I earned. In Dave VanVraken’s class I always received the second highest score on the exams. The really curious thing is that no one knows who received the top score. Once, when I asked to see the printed out distribution, the TA refused to show me (why?). I'm willing to bet that single point ahead of me was a dummy point. In Liz Jarvo’s class, when the first exam came around, we found out the high score was a 83. Who got the high score?...no one knows, but when I received my test the number 38 was written on (Also note I just so happen to get the same score as the other kid from U of I). At first, I was puzzled and glanced over to Peg (the TA). She sees my score, turns to Jarvo and says "he knows he didn't get that low". While I don't remember Jarvo’s exact words, she stated in some way that I would come to her and argue my case for a higher grade. So, here's the thing. I shouldn't have to defend myself or argue with you to ensure that I'm treated like everyone else. It should be a given. 


From what I hear the reason why I was treated this way has something to do with them not wanting me to "talk stuff" to the other students. 


Okay, so where is this coming from? I ask because I’ve been me long enough to know their opinion of what I’m like isn’t actually based off me. If they actually talked to my fellow classmates, the most common thing you’d probably hear is that I’m quiet. So either these people are just making up stuff to justify treating me how they want to treat me or my classmates are liars. I’m not really the type to talk about my grades (or really anything) unless the topic is explicitly brought up in conversation (and this is assuming I feel like talking at all). You can dress it up however you want, but treating me like a second class student for any reason solely reflects poorly on you (it gives no indication as to what I’m like). There were instances like this in half the classes I took. Some, admittedly were a smaller deal than others. In Vanderwal’s class I got marked off once because I didn’t draw both arrows in a mechanism that included a homolytic cleavage. For those that don’t know, if a homolytic cleavage occurs and you show one electron going in one direction, it is assumed that the other electron goes in the opposite direction and therefore does not need to be explicitly stated (minor, but mildly annoying). In polymer chemistry (taught by Aaron Esser-Khan), we had one assignment where we needed to propose something that wasn’t in the primary literature. I proposed a polymerization based off a derivative of the Hiyama coupling. Khan’s critique was that since it wasn’t already in the primary literature, it probably wasn’t a good idea ... really?! And don’t even get me started on spec because that spec TA was sketchy as fuck. He intentionally told me the wrong due date for a homework assignment and I’m pretty sure he shaved a couple points off one of my exams...

Okay, so these experiences are only a subset of the shitty things I experienced as a UCI student. But do you know what made life at UCI worst than life at U of I? My research advisor (Suzanne Blum)....and to a slightly lesser extent my fellow group members. Over the years I grew to hate them. I was lied about, I had a homework assigns hidden behind water coolers (Darius Faizi), I’ve had the nitrogen lines removed from air sensitive reactions (Darius Faizi, Suzanne Blum), I had products from reactions switch out for reagent alcohol (it’s a mixture of ethanol, methanol, and isopropanol) (Josh Hirner), I’ve had septums removed from reaction mixtures (Josh Hirner), I’ve had people try to placate me with sex (Katrina Roth), I’ve had people try to use the fact that I was in an agitated state to get something they wanted (Katrina Roth), I’ve had people turn on the indoor lights in my car in an effort to drain my battery while I’m allowing them to use my car to practice driving so they can get a U.S. driver’s license (Muhammed Al-Amin), I’ve had people ask questions just so they can not listen to the answer (Chao Zheng, Drew), I’ve experienced asking people for help just so they can not even try to help brainstorm what the answer could be (Darius Faizi, Kim Tu), I helped others brain storm shortcomings for a proposal, just to catch an attitude when they realize I didn’t catch everything the first time around (Quinn Easter). 


SIDE NOTE: To provide context, Quinn asked me to look through a synthetic route in his proposal that he was intending to present in his advancement to candidacy exam. There was something I didn’t immediately see but did bring up during a group when he was giving a practice presentation. He became visibly upset and mentioned he thought I was trying to make him look bad. If I was really trying to make you look bad, I wouldn’t have told you anything, so that you would’ve made the same mistakes when it actually mattered. Quinn, you’re an idiot.  


l’ve had people call me after I already dropped out and given up on chemistry from a redacted telephone number claiming to be an official representative of UCI calling me in an effort to get my address (Suzanne Blum, Ashley Davis), and I’ve had the experience where I ask for information pertinent to group website maintenance and they act like I’m hitting on them (Adena).

SIDE NOTE: 
This is something that always amused/offended me, having  someone assume I’m attracted to them because I acknowledged their existence. It’s funny because because they have the audacity ... but it’s also offensive because the operating assumption is that I don’t have standards, which couldn’t be further from the truth. (They seem to make a lot of faulty assumptions)

What was this experience suppose to teach me? How was I supposed to become a better person or scientist because of my affiliation with the group/university? Me coming to Irvine and working for Blum was a total waste of my time. I’m not entirely sure what her deal was, but it seemed she had a preconceived notion of who I was. No matter what type of relationship we have (or suppose to have) this will cause problems where there shouldn’t be. 


Is the request that someone’s opinion of you is actually based on you too much to ask for? Because I feel it’s a basic request that most people should be able to easily do. The contemptuous treatment did subside with time (mostly because I avoided talking to other students when ever possible) but it never really stopped. Why did it start to begin with? I’m willing to bet the only things they don’t like about me has everything to do with me reacting to the way they treat me.  Again, I have to ask, is racism really that prevalent?


Then one day, I started getting so fed up with life that I decided I needed an escape, even if it’s only for a couple weeks. So, I started planning a trip to Europe. I worked hard in the weeks coming up to the trip. I was trying to finish my entire project before I left (sadly, I didn’t, but I tried). Things were looking on the up and up. Before I left, Blum even said I was meeting her expectations, that was the nicest thing she ever said to me (it was the nicest thing anyone at UCI has ever said to me). I went off on my trip, and during the middle of it I received an email essentially telling me that my time at UCI was finished. Why? I still don’t know. 3 years later and I still don’t know why my career was ended before it was even given a chance to start.  It’s hard to move on with your life when you don’t have closure. It’s really hard to move on when you still have to live with consequences of other people’s actions.

 SIDE NOTE: I got the sense sometimes that Suzanne Blum did not really care about her job 100% of the time. I’m not entirely sure what to make of it. It’s like, either she truly didn’t understand the importance of her role (as the leader of a research group) or she truly doesn’t give a shit. Either way, she doesn’t deserve to be in the position she’s in. 


I still remember my last day in Irvine. It was bitter sweet. I was so happy to finally get to leave but also a bit anxious because I knew that the thousands of hours I spent studying and doing research was time wasted and it would never amount to anything. I knew I wasn’t going to get a job with my credentials. I even saw Eric (the other kid from U of I) in the student center when I went over to get lunch. He was looking at me all sad and shit because he knew I didn’t have a future in chemistry. We didn’t talk, we just walked past each other and exchanged glances. I tried to conceal a smile as I walked by. By the time my Dad’s flight landed, I had moved most of the stuff out my apartment. 


Life at home was hard. Depression is a mother fucker. I liken it to  a less severe version of sleep paralysis. I felt like I was stuck in my own body. Kinda like how I felt in the early Irvine days when it would take me hours to roll out of bed. I would literally wake at 6 am and just stare at the ceiling for ~4 hrs before I could convince myself to get up. And to make things worst, no emotional support was offered by my family. Their assumptions that I’m somehow responsible for other people’s actions along with their snide remarks about me being lazy did the opposite of help. I regretted coming home, even more so when I found out I somehow failed the background check for CPD. 


Now, how in the holy fuck does someone without a criminal record fail a background check? The only reasonable thing I could come up with to explain this is that the work experience I listed (my research experience) doesn’t count as work experience because instead of working for a salary, I worked for credit hours or a stipend. I have to tell myself things like this to convince myself I’m not getting screwed over in every facet of my life. If this is true, then my college experiences are doubly worthless because not only can the credentials I’ve earned not be used to get a job I’m more than qualified to do, but they can’t even get me a job you don’t even need a bachelor’s degree for.  


I wish I moved to LA after dropping out. If I stayed in Cali, I’d be force to move on with my life because I wouldn’t be able to sulk in my mother’s house for months. What would I do for work? idk...but I’d find something, and when I get fired, I’d just move on to the next dead end job.

As time went on, I found it easier to move, I still have scars though. Scars that may never heal. What can I do from here on out? I’m not sure. Going back to graduate school isn’t an option (or any program that requires letters of recommendations) because after experiencing what I’ve experienced and allowing those that I depended on for letters of rec to learn about my experiences, everyone seemed to be complicit. Either they didn’t do anything to change the course of action or it seemed like they were trying to cover it up by telling me to take the site down. I lost faith in everyone, I don’t think I can trust any of the profs to submit a letter of rec on my behalf when they either have done something that goes against my interests, are complicit in the wrong doing of others, or seem as though they’re attempting to cover up what happened to me. Even if I could get in anywhere, I still don’t want to go back to school. I lost faith in higher education. I lost faith in people. Whatever I do, I have to be able to do it without a college degree.

Just in case you’re wondering, I can’t depend on my college friends either. Mostly because I wasted no time trying to make friends. I’ve come to believe that friends are a worthless luxury.

I honestly believed that if I studied hard and knew my shit someone would hire me. I was wrong. I learned the hard way that to the outside world you are not you. You are not the sum total of your thoughts and actions. You are your skin color. You are your hair texture. You are the clothes you wear on your back. You are what people choose to believe you are. You are not you. People don’t care to get to know the people around them, they just want to feel as though their justified in believing the way they do. So I guess in order to get by in life you just need to be everyone’s friend and present yourself in such a way that everyone deems acceptable. Having the skills needed to do the job is more of an afterthought, huh? You know, one of the corollaries is that you’re expected to exhibit a certain level of extroversion. Welp, it just so happens to be the case that I’m an introvert and if the previous statements have some truth then I can honestly say this system was set up for me to fail. The only way I can get by in life is because I’m better than the other guy. No one will ever choose me because I’m their best friend.

I believe that’s where some of my problems stem from. When people see my face, they expect an extrovert (or at least someone who is more extroverted than me). When they find out I’m not who they want me to be, the reactions can range from essentially nothing, to mild disappointment, to mild hostility. And I think this is because people are more interested in the idea of me than actually getting to know me. So when they meet me and actually get to know me after building me up in their heads they’re kinda like “...oohh, this is it?!”. I don’t understand people. It’s like people just assume that you’re going to conform to their world view while refusing to even bend to yours. Now, I’m totally opposed to the very concept of “fitting in” because of all that. I got the sense “fitting in” means assimilation, which may involve losing qualities that make you unique (ones you may actually like about yourself). I don’t see why I should change in any way for people I don’t like, that I don’t see the benefit of being associated with, or for people that never liked me to begin with. People even sometimes mock my behavior, presumably because I’m not what they want me to be and this is just their way of trying to get me to conform.


The most recent example of this is my cousin Sonia (she’s multicultural). I went to her graduation party during the summer. And as with most family functions, it pretty much consisted of me sitting quietly most of the time. So fast forward to when it’s time to go home. My mother and 2/3 of my brother’s children are making their way to the car, noticing the third one is missing I go back for her. As I’m making my way up the front porch, three of my cousins (one of which is Sonia) are in my path and I say “watch out”. As I walk past Sonia, she says something along the lines of “woah, he must be serious....” while laughing... I’m going to say this once, “Mocking my behavior because I don’t act how you want me to act will never help anything”...... unless you’re actively trying to get me to dislike you. I have to remember that Sonia is just a child. Maybe it hadn’t dawn on her yet that there’s more to life than what she’s experienced. She’s probably never met a person like me, so she won’t know what to say in order to get me to interact with her. But then I’m like, “But what makes her think making herself look like an ass would actually help her in any capacity?” How does this explain the behavior of grown ass men and women who do the same thing?”. I wonder if it’s a cultural thing, and these people just don’t realize how bad they make themselves look to people that aren’t like them. 


On the way home, I started thinking, “Is this really the best I can do?”.  Have I been doomed to live a life where I’m not really happy? No, it can’t be the case. I still have faith. I may not have faith in other people anymore, but I still have faith in myself. I believe I can make something out of nothing, even if no one else does.

After going through all I’ve gone through, all I want is to not suffer anymore. I just want to be insanely rich for no reason. This won’t solve all my problems but it will eliminate many. If I ever come into having an ungodly amount of money, I’d give some of it to my family so they can afford many of the things that they want in life. Then I’d disappear, never to be seen or heard from again.


I’ve become acutely aware of the fact that people want to learn useless knowledge without ever having to talk to me.

DISCLAIMER: the knowledge is useless because we won’t/don’t have a relationship of any sort. Why waste your time learning information that isn’t relevant to your life?

So I’m going to take this opportunity to answers some personal questions because the thing I hated the most about you people is your unique combination of arrogance, ignorance, and obliviousness. While I can’t help with the arrogance and the obliviousness, I can help with your total lack of knowledge. So, without further ado ...

QUESTION TIME

Did you ever like life in Champaign county?

I was excited to be there in the beginning, then I met the people and all that excitement went away quick.

What’s your fondest memory from college?

That one time when Chipotle was doing that 2 for 1 deal. That was cold.

So, what’s up with your sexuality?

I don’t have sex because I don’t want to take the risk of having children, also no STDs. People were oddly obsessed with my sexuality and I never quite understood it. Here’s the thing, I’m a little self centered and I’m like you in the sense that I don’t immediately acknowledge other people’s way of thinking all the time. I honestly don’t understand why there was as much “interest” in knowing what I’m interested in (I use quotes because if people were actually interested they probably would have try talking to me). My viewpoint is that your claimed sexual orientation is irrelevant, it’s not even worth bring up in conversation. The reason why is simple. If you see a pretty girl and you know she’s interested in men, it doesn’t necessary mean she’s interested in you (assuming your male) right? That’s why the only thing that matters to me is whether or not the person I’m interested in is interested in me. 

It’s funny because if you completely ignore the fact that not everyone thinks like me, it would seem as though there were ALOT of dudes that wanted me to fuck them when I was in college.

To the people “interested” in knowing my sexual orientation. Ask yourself two questions. Do you want a shot? Do you think you have a shot? Think hard about it. If the answer to one of those questions is “no”, don’t waste your time.

If you haven’t already figured it out by now, I don’t think like a normal person. I’m never going to adjust or change to make you feel comfortable, the best thing I can do is not talk to you at all. I don’t adjust to you, you adjust to me. Why? because fuck you, that’s why.

Are you ever going to have sex?

Maybe, maybe not. What’s it to you?

Do you think people like you?

I know they don’t. Based off their actions, they don’t want to like me either. They’d spend less time gossiping about the negative characteristics I could have and more time actually getting to know me if they did.

You don’t think people know anything about you?

It all depends on what you think it means “to know”. Personally, I don’t. I’m never around people long enough for them to be able to get a true sense of who am I as a person. All people get are snapshots. Sadly, that isn’t good enough. That’s something I don’t think most people realize, actually.

What if after reading this, people actually started trying to get to know you, how would you react?

My recommendation is that you don’t waste your time. You can’t undo the damage that’s already been done. I’ve already stopped caring.

If you could go back in time and pick another college, which would you pick?

Xavier University in NOLA. I’d pick this HBCU because I’m fairly confident some of the problems I encountered at U of I wouldn’t have existed there.

Why did you choose UCI?

Because they told me I wasn’t going to make pass my first year.  I knew what type of student I was. I knew I had what it took to make it through any program. But I was at a low point in my life, where nothing seemed to be going right. I figure If I go there and get forced out after a year, it wouldn’t be my fault. The devastating thing is they let me get so close to graduating before just booting me out like they did.

Why did you use the word “they”?

Someone easily could have stepped in and did something. The department just enabled her (Suzanne Blum).

What grad program do you think you should have choose?

Indiana University or Rutgers probably would been better for me.

What motivates you to do well?

Meaningful positive reinforcement. Don’t just give out compliments for the sake of giving out compliments.

What’s one thing you hate most about people?

Their stupidity. Before I was told I failed the background check fro CPD. I’d get calls from some sort of case worker for CPD who was suppose to determine my eligibility. This dude asked me if I “resigned” from the Blum group and acted like that was a perfectly valid question. This wasn’t a job, it was a component of an academic program. I WAS A STUDENT. There was no resignation. You don’t resign from school. You either graduate, drop out, or get expelled. I know some college education is required for employment with CPD, so it’s far more likely that this guy is an idiot. REMEMBER GRAD SCHOOL IS STILL SCHOOL AND THERE ONLY 3 WAYS TO LEAVE.

Did you ever consider taking legal action?

Yes, but I know the people I’m dealing with aren’t above lying. Since there’s no physical evidence (that I have in my possession) proving that wrongs did occur, I’m reluctant to believe I’d actually win. It’s not smart to get into a “he said she said” battle with people that are believed to be pathological liars.

Are there any common misconceptions you’d like to clear up?

I wasn’t doing the school shit to make friends. I only wanted to make money. That’s the only reason why I was there, to make money. Every time someone why I as getting a PhD, my answer essentially went like, “I’m getting a PhD because money.” I see no point in trying to make friends with people who seemed to have been conditioned to dislike me.

Also, just because I’m quiet it doesn’t mean that I’m stuck up. It is in fact possible to be someone who isn’t a big talker.

Contrary to popular belief. I am in fact a HUMAN BEING. I have emotions and sometimes something could happen in one part of my life that can affect other parts of my life (like how well I do in school or how productive I am in lab).

Why did you just give up?

What’s the point of playing the game when you know you’ll never win.

It seems like the college years were a hard time for you, did you ever do something to ease the pain, like drugs or alcohol?

No, I love myself too much to potentially set myself up for problems later. I gave comedy a thought, but I found really hard to want to be funny when all I’m thinking about is the depressing shit that inspired the joke. If I’m gonna do something, it’s gonna be something were I don’t have to live with the consequences of my actions. I was suicidal. I was planning to kill myself the night before my thesis defense.

Why then?

I was fairly confident that no one there cared to save me from myself. But just in case someone wanted to surprise me, I figure it would be best to do when no one would expect it.

How?

potassium cyanide. The night before my defense I was going to make it my point to get a bottle of potassium cyanide. a couple months before my trip to Europe, I looked up who had it. It was on the fourth floor (or maybe the fifth). Go all the way down to the last lab space on the right hand side. When you walk into the lab space go along the right hand side and go through the door on your right. After that go to the first door on the right hand side. I placed a bottle on KCN in the first column on the left hand side, top shelf. The bottle should be on the wall on the left side (assuming it’s still in the same place I left it). I figured it wouldn’t get much use due to its inherent toxicity so it would probably be in the same place I left it when I needed it. I wouldn’t be surprise if the bottle is still in that exact spot.


Did you ever think about getting help?

From who? When I did finally ask for help, the first thing I was told was that the department sided with Blum (mind you this is before any type of investigation occurred). As soon as I posted the email from Chris Vanderwal on this blog, his tune changed immediately. But his actions didn’t reflect the words he put out in the public space. He was of no use. He had no interest in helping me in any capacity. I’m sure of it. I’m all alone in this world, I don’t have a safety net so if I fall, that’s my ass.

What about the professors from UIUC?

My previous statement stands. I had no one.

Is that why you started the blog? You felt like your were all alone and just wanted someone talk to, even if that someone was actually a void in space?

Yes, that’s exactly it.

Is that why you’re still posting, you still feel alone?

yes

But what about your family?

With them I’m a dependent not a provider. They’d be okay without me.

So have you really never sought out a therapist?

I couldn’t find steady work. I can’t afford it. Depression is a rich people disease. When you’re broke you’re just labeled as lazy.

What’s one thing you want everyone to know?

You shouldn’t let your assumptions or the assumptions of others affect how you treat me. Remember, you don’t know me. I could come to be your best friend, your faithful and supportive business partner, or the love of your life and you’d just let me slip away all because someone told you dislike me.

(Also, please don’t waste my time talking to me about all the typos I made)