#it was attractive ngl-

[shaylogic]

kiss_eyes1.jpg kiss_eyes2.jpg

[aubrey-plush12]

Is it weird that I find him smoking more attractive

[theeio]

kenji! what a charming character design♥️♥️ this movie is one of the most gorgeous things ive seen in a while

[salem-witch-slut]

Unrequited

Ellie Williams X Abby Anderson

SYNOPSIS: Ellie and Abby hate each other, and all of Jackson knows it. But when Ellie has a dream about the blonde one night, she suddenly starts to feel things that are not exactly hate... and Ellie does not like it.

WARNINGS: Swearing, Everybody Lives AU, loser!ellie, no real warnings its SFW

DIVIDERS MADE BY @cafekitsune

for @olliesasimplething who always encourages me to keep writing. my biggest supporter

It was a cold day in winter when they first met 3 years ago. One of the worst blizzards to ever come about Jackson was upon the city and two patrol groups were stranded in the snow. Teton County, and Elk Creek became a maze of white and ice, and the creek group took shelter within an abandoned library, while the other group was forced to keep moving…

Infected were swarming the massive office warehouse building near the lodge on the Teton County trail, and the two assigned to the route before the sun came up were able to spot what was happening. A young woman, no more than 24, tackled by a runner into the snow, struggling to keep its gnashing teeth away from her but failing due to clear exhaustion.

Joel reacted first. His revolver pressed into the runner’s face, and he fired a quick round, reaching down and shouting at the blonde to give him his hand. She was disoriented, shaking, but otherwise unharmed as she stood on her feet.

“We’re gonna have to run!” Joel warned as his brother, Tommy, laid down the cover fire that was needed to escape. The blonde went along with the two men wordlessly, and it seemed that she was just as desperate to escape as they were. No questions were asked as they ran throughout the entire building, deflecting attacks and fighting off the infected that just seemed to never, ever, ever end.

The group made it to the lodge where two horses were, but the infected just kept coming. Very slowly, Tommy reached out to get the woman’s attention. Her heart was racing and her pupils were dilated, barely able to focus on what was what.

“Hey, I’m Tommy, and that’s Joel,” Her eyes flittered between the two and she shared a moment of centering herself. Almost like her ears were still ringing from the gunshot. “What’s your name?”

“Abby,” She stated, out of breath as her hands trembled on the gun with every bang against the door that was just barricaded shut. Tommy asked her if she was okay, and she barely agreed as she took a step back, almost like she was preparing for the door to come down at any second.

The two brothers seemed to have different ideas about what to do. Joel wanted to get out of here, but Tommy was adamant that staying put was the best option due to the horses being with them and they would not outrun the blizzard.

Abby was quick to offer a solution. “My friends! My friends are at a mansion just north of here; It’s fenced in, we have the whole perimeter secure.”

Joel looked towards his brother and nodded. “It’s the Baldwin place. That could work.”

“I’ll get the door!” Tommy rushed to the front door and began to untie the horses while Joel put his pistol down.

“You ride with me, come on!” Joel told Abby who was quick to agree, following close behind him like her life depended on it; and it, in fact, did depend on it. Without these two, she would be deader than dead. As soon as she was close to Joel, she grabbed his hand and he lifted her onto the saddle behind him.

In seconds, they were gone.

All Ellie needed to hear was that Tommy and Joel never showed up to the lookout point. In mere seconds, she was out the door on Shimmer to find him in the snow, regardless of the blizzard state outside. She split up from the group, covering the entire Teton County trail in a few hours.

“Joel! Tommy!” Ellie shrieked over the howling wind, desperate to find the two most important people in her life. Shimmer ran through the snow quickly, her rider frantically searching the area and coming to a halt when she saw the dead infected at the gate of the Baldwin place… Her stomach dropped and she immediately dismounted from her horse, tying Shimmer up to a tree out of the direct sight line as she made her way down the hill.

Ellie knew the Teton County trail and she’s been to the mansion before. She knew how to get in the back way. Her legs wobbled in terror as she slunk down through the hole in the fence and jumped the railing to get inside. “Joel? Tommy?”

Her voice seemed to reach on deaf ears as she came in through… an open sliding glass door? Something about this felt far too eerie. Ellie’s fear was at an all-time high as she moved through the mansion, looking for something… anything…

The sounds of voices had her jumping as she pulled out her pistol and followed them. Those voices could belong to anybody, and trespassers were always a problem, but Jackson’s policy wasn’t to shoot first, it was to see if they would shoot first… Ellie breathed slowly and followed the voices, down a large staircase to a door that led to a basement.

Laughter echoed in the room and Ellie gulped, grabbing the door handle and slowly pushing the wood out of her way. She was not expecting the number of people inside of this room and before Ellie could even blink, she had at least four guns pointed at her face.

“Hey, hey, put your fucking gun down!” Ellie shouted, not giving one shit that she was outnumbered as she lifted the pistol and stepped inside of the room. “Back up! What the fuck are you—”

“Ellie!” The voice rang in her ears as Ellie looked up and almost immediately, her fears were quenched. Joel ran right up to her and immediately put his hand on her pistol. “Ellie, calm down, it’s alright. They ain’t dangerous—”

Ellie didn’t even care about the crowd as she immediately wrapped her arms around the man and let out a breath of relief. Joel stumbled back and wrapped his arms around her, pushing his nose into the top of her head and scratching her face somewhat with his beard. “C’mon now, what’s this all about?”

A moment passed before Ellie stepped back and immediately shoved him with her hands, making him stumble back yet again. “You fuckin’ dick, don’t scare me like that!”

“Could- could you put the gun down, Ellie?” Joel said, holding out a hand and the girl sighed with a slight growl, tucking the gun back into the waistband of her jeans and putting her hands on her knees. She was covered in snow and her nose was red from how long she had been traversing the landscape looking for him and his brother. “Here, there’s a fire in this room, alright? C’mon.”

The others in the room seemed to be relaxing at the girl’s presence as Ellie stepped in time with Joel, going to the other room. “Who are these guys?”

“They’re just passin’ through Wyoming, trynna get back to Washington… We came across one of ‘em in the snow ‘bout 2 hours ago? She was getting’ swarmed by infected near the lodge,” Joel explained what happened and why they had to hunker down and wait out the storm. Tommy was sitting by the fire and Ellie let out a sigh of relief at seeing him, crouching down next to the blonde man and whacking him in the shoulder.

“Hey! Respect yer elders, girl!” Tommy joked, making Ellie chuckle before she sat down on her knees and put both hands on the warm ground near the little firepit. “Ellie, this here’s Abby. She helped us get outta the storm.”

Ellie was confused who he was talking about but she heard heavy boots fall in front of her and she looked up to see a blonde that was at least half a foot taller than her, long hair in a braid going down her shoulder as she knelt down next to the fire across from her.

“Hey,” Abby said, looking at the girl for a bit too long before she looked over her shoulder at where Joel went, seeing him talk to a man with reddish-blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. “See those two got along almost immediately?”

“Well, yer dad’s easy to like,” Tommy shrugged his shoulders. Ellie watched Joel converse with who was apparently Abby’s father, seeing them talk away from the group a little and try to keep things hush. Ellie had a suspicion of what he was declaring…

That was over 3 years ago. The rest would be history. Joel said that if they didn’t find what they were looking for in Seattle, they were welcome to come back to Jackson. Half a year passed by, and just as spring was coming to an end for summer to roll in, the group reappeared at the gates in front of Jackson, minus a few people… It seemed that Jordan, Leah, and Nick didn’t make it back with them.

It was almost too easy for them to integrate into the life of Jackson as Joel vouched they were good people and they were offered a place to stay. At first, Ellie was indifferent to Abby and the rest of the group… but that began to wear thin.

Abby was quickly becoming a pain in the ass. Whenever they were paired together for patrol, which happened quite often, Abby insisted searching everywhere and anywhere possible, causing more trouble than was needed and nearly getting them killed on several occasions.

And it didn’t take long for Abby to break Ellie’s record of the amount of infected killed on a patrol. It didn’t matter what either of them did, everything felt like a competition, and Ellie was losing. She hated losing.

It was the night after a particularly hostile patrol, and Ellie was sporting a brand new set of stitches on her cheekbone and two splints on her left ring and pinky finger while sitting at the bar in the Tipsy Bison. Dina was sitting next to her, going on about something that Ellie just wasn’t paying attention to, but then she flinched at hearing the door open. Ellie didn’t need to look to see who it was.

Abby’s right arm was in a sling for a few days thanks to an infected knocking her onto the ground and having her roll down a hill into a riverbed. Ellie laughed at first, but she knew that Abby needed her to save her sorry ass, so she was quick to join her at the bottom of the hill.

She was so busy worrying about the runner that she didn’t hear the clicker approaching and before she could defend herself, the infected knocked her down onto the ground, her fingers breaking under her body and her face slicing against a very sharp stone in the dirt.

Everything was fucked, and Ellie was pissed off, but Abby was just as equally pissed as she approached the bar and slammed her left hand down onto the counter. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“I’m not the idiot that went into that trailer—”

“You’re such an asshole,” Abby grabbed Ellie by the front of her shirt and lifted her off the barstool. “You stood there and laughed at that runner taking me down!”

Ellie shoved her hands into Abby’s chest, a hand getting too close to her dislocated shoulder and making her grunt in pain. Ellie could have cared less. “Stop acting like you’re fucking invincible, you dense cunt! You could have gotten both of us killed!”

“And I could have been bit,” Abby got near Ellie’s face, close enough for the redhead to smell her pine scented soap that she used. Ellie tried not to inhale, finding that she detested the smell now more than ever before. “But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Guys, can we just calm down?” Dina stood up, stepping between both of them and Ellie scoffed. Abby could see blood dripping down her cheek and sliding into the collar of her black t-shirt, her adrenaline rushing and opening her wound back up. Her heart raced as she picked up the glass of whiskey and downed it in almost two seconds. Abby tried not to flinch at seeing the ugly bruises on her splinted fingers.

“I may fuckin’ hate you,” Ellie snapped. “But that doesn’t mean I wanna see you dead, Anderson.”

With that being said, Ellie left the bar and went straight home, leaving Abby to be her brooding self inside of the building. The entire walk home, Ellie wanted to tear her hair out. How can one human be so damn infuriating?! Ellie can’t remember the last time a person had pissed her off so badly. Her heart was racing, and she felt nauseous… or maybe that was just the whiskey in her system.

 In her haste to get inside of her home, she didn’t even acknowledge Joel on his back porch, Jerry sitting next to him on a chair and both of them bonding over the coffee they recently got through a trade. Joel tried to say hi, but she ignored him and slammed her door.

Ellie slammed her hand against the wall, and immediately groaned in pain at her broken fingers throbbing under the skin. Her blood was boiling and dripping from the wound on her cheek. Everything felt overwhelming and she had to calm down somehow. Her heart felt like it was trying to escape from her chest.

After a very short shower, she replaced the bandages on her cheek and changed into a different set of clothes not covered in her sweat. After getting her shit rocked today, Maria agreed to give her a few days off to recuperate from having her bones broken. Ellie could sleep in… And forget about bitches named Abby.

It was well into the night and Ellie had been tossing and turning through her entire dream. Turning onto her left side, she curled both hands into her chest and muttered something under her breath; something she would have slapped herself for saying if she was conscious… “Abby…”

The sensation of rough, calloused hands across her cheeks had Ellie’s eyes fluttering in an embarrassingly lovesick manner. The strong palms on her face slid up, a thumb swiping over her lower lip as Ellie reached up, her own rough-skinned hands sliding over massive biceps to rest on broad, freckled shoulders.

The blonde braid was unmistakable, and Ellie leaned ever closer to her, feeling the heat of her body against Ellie’s own and trembling in the blonde’s grasp. Oh, the scent of pine filled her nose, and she reveled in the pleasure that coursed through her entire being.

“We’ll take things slow, yeah?” That melodic, heavenly voice that stroked along her brain and sent shivers all over her nerves. Ellie sighed, almost like she couldn’t get enough of this, and leaned forward. Her hands went higher, one curling around the base of her braid and pulling her down a little more, but she stopped Ellie with a palm on her chest. Ellie’s heart quickened.

“Abby,” Ellie begged. Abby chuckled, and she leaned forward slowly… Her lips got so close, and Ellie swore she could feel the heat of Abby’s breath on her face. She was so close… so close that Ellie could practically taste her on her tongue—

Ellie let out a loud gasp and jolted upward from the bed. Her body glistened in the moonlight pouring from the window and she grabbed at her chest over her shirt with her good hand. Everything felt like it was buzzing and Ellie couldn’t calm her heart down.

“What the fuck did I just—” Ellie’s thoughts went to her dream, and lingered on Abby… Where she once saw annoyance, Ellie found herself BLUSHING! She remembers the way Abby once grabbed her hip to keep her from falling. She remembers that time Abby patched up her leg when she got hurt. She remembers the way Abby winked at her once a long time ago…

Ellie remembers the dream, and suddenly…. Abby was the one thing on her mind. She tried to think of anything else, but the sound of Abby’s breathing in her head refused to escape and she found herself wondering what she would look like in such an intimate moment…

A pure whine of pitiful defeat, and a little annoyance, tore through the air and Ellie simply covered her face with the pillow, screaming and wishing that she was now dead. What was once in her mind of Abby— all the hatred and disgust for her existence? Ellie couldn’t get the image of her hands caressing her face out of her mind.

If she closed her eyes again and brushed the spot where dream-Abby touched her cheekbone, her entire face would glow with a blush again and it felt borderline sickening.

“Fuck, fuck,” Ellie cursed, not knowing how else to react to this situation.

Ellie was content on hating Abby for a long time, maybe even until one of them inevitably got killed on patrol or by raiders or anything of the sort. But noooooo… that would be too easy for her brain to comprehend. So instead, Ellie would avoid her. And this time, she wouldn’t even look at Abby Anderson, afraid that if she looks at her for too long, she’ll wonder what she tastes like.

So, Ellie did what any normal person would do: she locked the door and pretended to die for a few days.

“Has anybody seen Ellie?”

The question had everybody stopping for a brief second in what they were doing. Dina shared a look with Tommy who simply just shrugged. No one has seen her in, apparently days? It had been three since her fight with Abby in the bar.

“She ain’t been comin’ out of her room,” Joel concluded, his features creased with slight worry at the idea of Ellie being hurt, or even sick. He knows that having 2 broken fingers wasn’t very fun, but she burned herself with chemicals in order to hide her bite mark. The girl was tough as nails, she could do anything with 2 broken fingers.

“I haven’t seen her either,” Dina frowned. It wasn’t like her best friend hiding away on her days off. She’s always doing something. “I can go check on her?”

“Good idea,” Jesse said, lifting a hay bale off the ground and tossing it towards the pile where the others were. “She’s gotta come back for patrol tomorrow.”

Dina stripped off her gloves, tucking them away in her back pocket before she left the stables. The walk to Ellie’s little garage home wasn’t exactly long, but it felt like forever under the Wyoming sun. Sweat dripped from her hairline as she approached Ellie’s front door, gently knocking on the wooden surface.

“Ellie? It’s Dina,” Dina announced, hoping that saying just her name would be enough for Ellie to let her in. But when she was met with silence, Dina began to tap her foot on the ground outside of the door. “I know you’re in there, Ellie. I can see you moving around in there.”

A curse echoed in the bedroom before Dina could hear Ellie actively tripping almost every single thing in her wake. And when she opened the door, Dina had to step back in order to fully take her in. What the hell happened to her?

“Ellie, are you—” Her nose wrinkled up a little as she smelt the unmistakable scent of weed and alcohol on her breath. “Fuck, have you just been in here getting shitfaced for three days?”

“What do you want, Dina?” Ellie deflected, like she always does when she’s got so much on her mind. Dina doesn’t know what upsets her more; that Ellie is getting high, or she’s getting high without her.

The redhead pushed her sweaty forehead against the doorway, almost like she was going to collapse if she stood there for another second than she needed to. So instead of talking outside, Dina pushed herself into Ellie’s home like it was her life’s purpose. Almost instantly, Ellie fell onto her ass, either too blazed or too plastered to fully take in what was happening.

“Dina, what the fuck—”

“What the hell is going on with you?” Dina crouched down, slapping her hands on Ellie’s cheeks and making her blush under her freckles. “And it isn’t the broken fingers because you broke your nose last month and still went on patrol the next day!”

“Wh- nothing! Nothing is wrong, I just—”

“I know you’re lying,” Dina snapped, still holding onto Ellie’s face. She looked like a bunny staring down a rifle barrel. “You wanna know why? Cause you suck at it!”

“Get off!” Ellie shoved Dina’s hands away, attempting to stand on her own but failing miserably. Her knees wobbled as she got off the ground before she fell right back onto the floor and for a few seconds, simply laid there with her face on the dirty rug near her sofa. “Just… Just go, Abby—”

Dina immediately froze in place, her brows knitting together for a brief second as it seemed like the whole world was coming back into focus. Before this moment, Dina was prepared to knock some sense into her best friend, but that moment passed quickly.

“This is about Abby,” Dina said, standing up and running a hand across her face. “Come on El, Abby is always gonna be a bitch, that’s just how she is!”

“S’not about that,” Ellie finally stood up off the ground, her shirt sticking against her sweaty skin as she rubbed her forehead, trying to stop the room from spinning. Her wobbly legs managed to carry her to the bed where a half-burned blunt was sitting inside of an ashtray. “Just go. I can’t deal with this right now…”

Dina watched as Ellie picked up the roach and inhaled very slowly, the end of the blunt glowing and illuminating her face. Dina could see the bruises under her eyes from a lack of sleep. Whatever was happening inside of Ellie’s head, Dina couldn’t figure it out… So she left.

As soon as Dina was gone, Ellie let out a harsh breath as she looked down at the sketches littering her bed. And if Dina had stayed, she would have understood. Abby’s face was all over the papers, her eyes staring back with that characteristic scowl she always held, and the slight pout to her bottom lip…

A curse escaped Ellie’s lips as she shoved all of the drawings on the floor and shoved a pillow back over her face. There was no reason that this affected her so badly, she’s had stupid crushes before—

“No, nope, absolutely fucking not, this is not happening,” Ellie scolded herself, gripping the fabric of the pillowcase like it was her lifeline from drowning. Lines were drawn on the invisible white board in her mind, and she felt like thoughts were knitted together.

Realization hit her like a bus. Ellie Williams has a crush on Abby frickin’ ANDERSON!

When Ellie emerged from her so-called hobbit hole, as Joel called it, she looked like death warmed up. Her face was pale and she looked like she was going to be sick at any given moment. Her trek to the stables felt like the longest walk of her life. She chugged a ton of water just to get through the day and Maria had been gracious enough to give her one extra day to sober up…

Wandering around the town was normally a good idea, so she decided to take a walk and try to clear her head. Everyone seemed to be out in full force today enjoying the warm weather while Ellie is starting to wish that she grabbed those sunglasses she saw on patrol last week. Her limbs felt impossibly heavy as she turned a corner towards the stables, going to see if Joel was back yet. But on her way, Ellie nearly fell over as she ran directly into someone.

“Hey! Watch where you’re–” Ellie looked up, ready to fight whoever wasn’t watching where they were going, and then she went completely silent. 

That blonde braid was unmistakable, not to mention the sling over her shoulder. Abby looked pissed, to say the least. Her brows were pulled together and her bottom lip was pouted out even more than usual. It was a look that Ellie has seen almost a thousand times… so why did it feel different now?

“Can you get out of your own world for five damn seconds and watch where you’re going?” Abby snapped, readjusting the sling on her shoulder and biting her lip to try and hide the wince of pain she felt. Normally, this would be the time that Ellie would fire back. She was waiting for her words that usually cut as deep as her switchblade. 

But when Abby looked back, she saw Ellie had gone red in the face. Abby figured she was coming up with some “clever” retort, and she decided to poke the bear again. “What’s wrong, Williams? Clicker got your tongue?”

If Abby had been looking closely, she would be able to see Ellie’s hands trembling slightly as she took a step back and immediately turned around and walked in the other direction. What the fuck, that didn’t make sense– Ellie never misses the opportunity to fight with Abby. What was going on?

“Williams,” Abby started following behind Ellie, who pretty much refused to acknowledge Abby’s presence. If Ellie was even more childish, Abby would assume she was being given the silent treatment, but she was more mature than that… by a miniscule fraction. Ellie was never afraid for someone to know just how much she hated them. Reminders of Ellie almost stabbing Seth in the bar will forever be a prime memory for Abby. 

She wasn’t stopping, and Abby didn’t know what to do. “Ellie,” A hand went on the redhead’s shoulder and she immediately went still. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Ellie said way too fast to be convincing. Her heart was racing and as long as she didn’t look at Abby, the blonde couldn’t see the color rising to her cheeks. “Can you just…” 

Abby watched Ellie carefully grab Abby’s wrist with the hand that had two fingers in splints. Suddenly, Abby felt a surge of guilt in her stomach from the sight. It technically was Abby’s fault that Ellie had broken two of her fingers, but she was also responsible for her dislocated shoulder. 

Actually… No, it was all Abby’s fault. Had she been thinking, she wouldn’t have gotten attacked by that infected. She let her guard down, and in doing so, almost got both of them killed because of her dumb quarter collection. She’d never tell Ellie that’s why she went exploring; Ellie would only make fun of her for it, and she didn’t need the girl to have anymore reasons to pick on her.

“Are you-” Abby tried to step around to look at her face and try to see if the stitches on her cheek were okay, but before she could, Ellie turned her head to avoid eye contact. “What is wrong with you? Why are you–”

“I have somewhere I need to be,” Ellie immediately changed the subject, turning away as fast as possible and going towards the stable. This time, Abby didn’t chase her. The blonde just stood there, looking more confused than she’s ever been before in her life. 

The redhead, on the other hand, felt like her heart was going to burst from her chest and she immediately hid behind a house, covering her face with both hands and feeling like her skin was suddenly too tight for her own body. Her stomach twisted, and she wanted to bash her head into the brickwork of the house behind her. 

What the hell is her problem? She’s had crushes on people before, none of them have made her act like this! Even when it was Cat, she was cool about it… Well, as cool as she could be. And even with Dina, she didn’t go practically paralyzed with fear or pure discomfort that she may discover how Ellie feels. 

So why did she do this with Abby? Why couldn’t she play it cool and act like nothing was wrong? 

Because Ellie didn’t fucking want to like Abby. 

[shortnotsweet]

all bets are off [1/3]

Lucemond High School AU drabble [part 2], She’s All That (1999)

“Am I a bet? Am I a bet, am I a fucking bet?”

“Yes.” It comes out quietly, which makes it all the worse. Luke would have expected Aemond to sneer and look down his long nose at him like the Hightower side of the family had for most of their lives. Luke wishes he would. It would have made it easier. Aemond’s face reflects no relish, or even satisfaction. Instead, it is pale and unreadable. Fitting, perhaps; as it turns out, Luke had read him wrong this entire time.

“Would you have told me before it was over? Before you humiliated me in public?”

The silence speaks for itself.

“Alright,” he scoffs, “that’s it, then.” The bitterness in his voice has an unfamiliar edge, and it sounds mean even to Luke, but it’s right. That’s how he feels. “You played your little game, you had your fun. I get it. It’s over.”

“No.”

“No?”

“It’s not over.”

“It is if I say it is. I don’t want anything from you, and you—you can shut up about debts, or what I owe you. We don’t have to know each other after this.” It’s true; they don’t have any classes together. They run in the same circles but that’s nothing some convenient maneuvering and strategic avoidance can’t fix. Their sides of the family voluntarily meet up for a miserable dinner once every three months and holidays. Luke can make it work.

Aemond’s remaining eye widens and his mouth thins. His face is readable now, at least; he’s livid. In a second, he lunges forward and grabs ahold of Luke’s wrist, trying to drag him back towards himself, to reel him in like he had all those months ago. Luke digs his heels into the ground instinctively, bracing away from the pressure. Luke used to like how big Aemond’s hands were in comparison to his own—the encompassing warmth, the difference in size—but now his grip tightens and locks like a handcuff, squeezing Luke’s wrist to the point of crushing. It hurts. He’s hurting him. Aemond is older and bigger than Luke, he always has been, and now he presses in like a storm cloud blocking out a clear sky.

“Luke, it wasn’t—it started like that, alright? It was like that in the beginning, but not now. It’s different now, I’m not—just look at me!” There’s something frantic in his words, the way he hovers over Luke like his shadow alone will cage him in. This isn’t the first time Aemond has struck the flight instinct in him, or the urge to fight, but it resonates through Luke’s core nonetheless. There is too much of him near. “I would’t have told you because there’s nothing to tell, not anymore.” Luke cranes his neck to peer over Aemond’s shoulder, searching out the best escape route. “It’s not over. You don’t mean that. We just…this is a rough patch, that’s all. It doesn’t matter how it started, it matters what it is. It’s good now, isn’t it? I’m good for you, I can be whatever you need, I’ll keep you happy. You like me, right? I know you do. I know you like me. Just get in the car, and we’ll talk about this later. Not now. Not like this. Look at me, don’t—don’t be like this. Luke.”

“I’m going home.”

“No. It’s late. You’re going back with me.”

“Let go.”

“Not until you listen.”

“Get off of me,” he snarls, launching himself backwards and ripping out of Aemond’s grasp. “Don’t touch me.” Aemond rears back at this rejection.

“Who else is going to do it? Lonely little Luke, eating lunch alone. Stupid, useless, weak. Can’t play sports, can’t speak in Debate Club, Mommy pays his tuition. He almost wets his pants when someone pulls the fire alarm. Who else is going to touch you, other than me?” Aemond’s mouth curls into a grin; he’s done it before, all sly and cruel. It looks ugly. He never changed, did he? How did Luke never see it before? “You didn’t fuck, didn’t drink at house parties, didn’t go to the beach past bedtime—hell, you probably never rode in a car without buckling the seatbelt. You were so eager for it, and I took you so easily. No one else could do that. No one else can touch you now, not like I can.”

It would have been true five months ago. Poor, common-looking Luke, who blended in with the walls, kept his head down, and startled at car alarms. That Luke was surrounded by gems, by brothers and uncles and friends who excelled at something, who carved names out for themselves. The Luke from five months ago would have balked at this, would have shrunk into himself and cowed to the truth. That Luke thought no one watched him, but he would’ve known if he just looked up. The Luke from now knows what the truth is, for the first time, and it’s nothing that comes out of Aemond’s mouth. Luke knows himself better than he ever has, and knows Aemond like he never wanted to before.

“I don’t think that’ll be any trouble, Uncle. Don’t worry about me,” Luke snorts out without thinking. “If I need someone to give me a ride, it won’t have to be you.” It doesn’t. It won’t. “I can buckle my own seatbelt; better yet, someone else can buckle it for me.” The uncle in question stills.

“Say that again.” He blinks, a curious expression settling over his features. “Say that again.”

“I said, it doesn’t have to be you. Other people will touch me. You’re not the only one around here with a working dick and something to prove. You lost an eye, not an ear. I should’t have to repeat myse—” before he can even finish the sentence, Aemond grabs him again, fingers curling over his shoulders like talons. Luke’s breath stops in his throat. Aemond’s face is so close they could kiss. Instead of leaning into it like he might have a few hours ago, Luke cringes backwards. Never again. The wounded expression on Aemond’s face gives him some satisfaction, but then his mouth morphs into a snarl and Luke would bet anything—his mother’s money, his own life, or whatever Aemond must’ve taken when he made that bet in the first place—that both of his eyes are glowing right now. The prosthetic below the patch shines like a jewel in its socket anyway, but the working eyeball in his head works furiously, searching across Luke’s face for something.

“What did you say, you little shit?” Aemond seethes. “Is there someone else? You have someone else, you were thinking about someone else?” he hisses into Luke’s face and furiously shakes him like a child would a broken toy. “Who is it?” he demands, sounding desperate now. “When? Is it Stark? Aegon? Greyjoy, that waterlogged rat? Daeron? Did one of them touch you—did you let them? Did they kiss you? Tell me, you fucking bastard.” Luke tells him the truth.

“That’s not your business anymore.”

“Not my business? Not—hah, not my business?” He’s so angry he’s spitting. “Of course it’s my business. It always has been. You’ve always—always, there’s never been a time when—you little idiot. Don’t you get it? You’re mi—”

Luke slaps him.

[local-lover-boy]

My type is nonhuman entity that pretends to fit in with humans and is in high positions of power. Hit me up if you fit this.

[hephaestuscrew]

“This has both our names on it”: Viewing Fleet and Clara’s relationship in Victoriocity through a queerplatonic lens

TL;DR: By Season 3 of Victoriocity, Fleet and Clara have developed a committed emotional partnership that certainly moves beyond the purely professional. Whilst very much operating as a duo, they can be interpreted as often rejecting or subverting romance-coded elements in their relationship, instead embracing a unique dynamic that can be read as resonating with the concept of a queerplatonic relationship (QPR).

Buckle up because this is over 2,500 words long! If you'd rather read it as a document, you can access it here: Fleet & Clara QPR Google Doc

Disclaimer: I'm not making any claims about creator intent, nor about how anyone else ought to interpret Fleet and Clara's dynamic. It's also worth acknowledging that queerplatonic relationships are inherently defined by the people in them and any attempt to apply such terminology to a story set in 1887 is obviously anachronistic (although whether that should matter when said story also contains a cyborg Queen Victoria is up for debate). 

With that said, if we define a QPR as a committed personal partnership which is not entirely captured by the typical expectations of either friendship or romance but may contain some elements typically associated with either (other definitions of QPRs are available), I enjoy viewing Fleet and Clara's relationship through a QPR lens, and I want to talk about some of the reasons why I think this reading works.

***Spoilers for all three seasons of Victoriocity and the novel High Vaultage***

Detective duos

Even before we actually get into Fleet and Clara's particular bond, detective / crime-solving duos as a general concept have QPR energy to me (which probably predisposed me to this interpretation). It's the Holmes-and-Watson legacy. It's the use of the word 'partner' in a non-romantic context (‘associate’ or ‘companion’ can also serve a similar purpose). It's the intense trust and reliance on each other. It's the sense of being a recognisable pair, always appearing together, known as a duo, with skills and attributes that complement each other. 

Romantic assumptions

Moving on to Fleet and Clara specifically, one aspect of their relationship that can be read through a QPR lens is how they are often in situations where other people believe or imply that there is a romantic relationship between them. Sometimes this is a deliberate strategy of theirs, and sometimes it’s imposed upon them by others. But I’d argue that there’s never a point where they both simultaneously seem entirely comfortable with that romantic narrative for their relationship. Usually one of them will actively deny the assumption or react negatively to the implication:

When Mrs Hampshire interprets Clara and Fleet as a couple experiencing “young love”, Clara might be happy to adopt this as an effective cover story, but Fleet seems unsettled and keen for them not to be perceived this way: “No. No. You’ve misunderstood, we are not, that is to say I am…” (S1E2)

When Warden Hughes assumes Fleet is the new Warden and Clara is the new Warden’s wife, Clara says “I am certainly not”, with emphasis on the ‘certainly’. (S2E2)

Fleet definitely doesn’t sound enthused when he realises Clara has gone for a married couple as their cover story at the Grand Salcombe: “I am sure I’ll regret asking, but by any chance am I [Mr. Theasby?]” (S2E2)

When Titus Byrne tells the pair “I take it you're happy sharing [a room]”, Clara responds with a horrified “What?” (S3E4) (Obviously sleeping in the same room isn’t inherently romantic, but it is often perceived that way.)

Of course, fake dating and external assumptions of romance are very common tropes in romantic will-they-won't-they dynamics, and these moments could definitely be interpreted that way for Fleet and Clara. But I prefer to read these instances as reflecting a different kind of closeness between these two characters. They have a sense of emotional partnership that allows a marriage cover story to seem plausible to others and that other people sometimes automatically assume to be romantic (obviously with some period-typical heteronormativity at play). But to me, it doesn't seem like either of them are fully comfortable with their relationship being perceived in a directly romantic way. Perhaps they are a couple in a different sense…

Proposal via door plate 

The way that Fleet asks Clara to be his business partner has always seemed to me like a platonic version of when people find personal ways to surprise their romantic partner with a proposal:

CLARA: You bought me a door plate for your office? [...] This has both our names on it. FLEET: What do you think? CLARA: I like it. (S2E7)

Fleet could have just asked Clara outright, without going to the trouble of buying a sign that would have been useless if she’d said no. If it was purely a professional business proposition with no emotional meaning behind it, I think he would have just asked verbally. But instead, he gifts her a sign with their two names paired together: Fleet-Entwhistle Investigations. There's something so intimate about that to me: about Fleet asking Clara whether she would like to be a duo with him in a more formally-defined but still non-romantic way; about him choosing to present this offer in the form of a gift; about the way he presents her with their two names joined together etched into metal and asks what she thinks; about the significance that this gesture attaches to their partnership; about him having enough trust that she'll say yes that the effort and vulnerability of presenting her with that sign seem worth it for him. And the gesture means an awful lot to Clara:

She thought about the door plaque he’d had engraved with both their names on it as his way of inviting her to be his business partner – typical Fleet, refusing to tell her so much as his favourite breakfast food and then to go and do something like that. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her. (High Vaultage, p187). 

Anniversaries

In the special episode ‘Murder in the Pharaoh's Tomb', Clara says “And you know what else is a big occasion Fleet? It's our one-month anniversary.” She wants to celebrate the anniversary of Fleet-Entwhistle Investigations. Their partnership holds a significance for her that means key dates associated with it are worth remembering and remarking upon. 

When Clara first mentions their anniversary, Fleet nearly chokes on his drink, which seems like an instinctive reaction to the usually romantic connotations of an anniversary (see my point above about Fleet not being comfortable with their dynamic being perceived as romantic). But when Clara clarifies what she means, Fleet seems much more cheerful about the notion of their anniversary: “Ah, so it has.”

“Miss Clara Entwhistle, my partner”

I get extremely strong QPR vibes from this moment, when Fleet introduces Clara to the sailors at Grave End:

FLEET: This is Miss Clara Entwhistle, my partner - in business, my business partner. CLARA: I'm also his friend, but he doesn't like to say it. (S3 E3)

Fleet and Clara are partners, but not in the way the average person might assume from that word, which Fleet realises mid-sentence here. This is another instance of Fleet reacting negatively to the idea that their relationship might be interpreted romantically (see above). And yet, 'partner' (rather than, say, ‘colleague’) is the word that comes naturally to him in this moment to describe who Clara is to him. He then frantically emphasises the professional element of their relationship so as to avoid the romantic implication, but Clara is keen to proudly assert that there is a personal, emotional aspect to their dynamic too. They are first-and-foremost partners, and they are friends, and they do not want to be seen in a romantic light - this post basically writes itself... 

“Her ridiculous detective.”

When Clara fears for her life at the display of the Lanterns, the narration tells us:

“she thought of her brother, her sister, her parents... Her ridiculous detective.” (High Vaultage, p172) 

The fact that Clara thinks of Fleet in this moment of fear clearly indicates his importance to her, but I think the phrasing of this quote is particularly interesting. The narration lists Clara's immediate family: two of whom are dead (her sister and father), one of whom is publically mourning Clara's life choices (her mother), and only one of whom we have any real evidence of her having a positive relationship with (her brother). And then, separated from these complicated familial relationships by an ellipsis, the narration tells Clara also thinks of Fleet, “her ridiculous detective”. 

Parents and siblings are familial relationships that tend to come with established expectations, in which the use of a possessive pronoun (i.e. her brother) to indicate the relationship is a norm. ‘Detective’ does not fall into this category; unlike ‘brother’, ‘sister’, ‘parent’, ‘friend’, ‘partner’ etc., ‘detective’ is not a word that inherently implies a relationship or that we'd usually expect to see preceded by a possessive pronoun. The idea of ‘her detective’ therefore stands out, giving the sense that there is a unique relationship being indicated here. The way in which Fleet is ‘hers’ is something that Clara has chosen for herself, something that they have shaped together. Who they are to each other can't necessarily be fully expressed using standard phrases that traditionally describe relationships between people. But Fleet is Clara's detective, of which she only has one, and who she'll think of in the midst of “the screaming of the heavens at the end of the world”.

Fleet is also the only one in this list of Clara's loved ones who gets an adjective - her love for him has detail. And while “ridiculous” might often be perceived as negative (it's certainly not a classic romantic endearment), it seems to me like there's such fondness in it in this context: the recognition of and affection for eccentricities, the idea that his importance to her is not (purely) based on his professional strengths but on Fleet as a whole - perhaps at times ridiculous - person.

“Settled”

When Clara and Fleet talk about Clara's mother’s expectations for her, they have this exchange:

"She's still living in hope that one day I'll settle down."  "You're not settled?" asked Fleet. "I am." (High Vaultage, p259) 

By ‘settle down’, Clara's mother of course means ‘marry’, ideally into “at least a minor baronetcy”. But Clara already considers herself "settled", just not in a way her mother would understand or appreciate. She's not looking to "settle down" into a lifestyle other than her current one. She is settled in a situation where Fleet is certainly her closest personal connection in London (and perhaps anywhere), and where the two of them work closely together, operate as a duo, and then go back to their separate homes. And this partnership with Fleet is a comfortable set-up that feels right for Clara exactly as it is, rather than being a precursor to, or a distraction from, the marriage ambitions that her mother wants for her.

I think this exchange also contains an implicit sense of the commitment between the two of them. Fleet wants to check that Clara is ‘settled’ in her current situation, of which working closely - and platonically - with Fleet is obviously a major element; Clara confirms she is. There's a subtle indication of their shared intention to be in this for the long haul.

As a sidenote, Fleet and Clara’s implicit assumption that their partnership is a long-term one can manifest itself in joking contexts as well as serious ones. Look at this exchange from S3E5: 

FLEET: We're not bandits, we're just going to flag it down. CLARA: We'd be terrific bandits! FLEET: Let's just see how our current line of work goes.

I think it’s notable that, in this joking speculation, both Fleet and Clara use ‘we’ and ‘our’. The joke could have been phrased just as effectively if they were imagining only Clara becoming a bandit. But the suggestion is that, if either of them was a bandit, they’d be bandits together. Even if they changed their lives entirely, they'd still approach life together.

Inseparable 

Fleet and Clara have become a nearly inseparable duo in a way which is noticed by others. For example, after Clara and Fleet fall out in High Vaultage, Fleet meets with Keller, who says: 

"You're here with me instead of barrelling across town with her, so I'm just assuming there is some thickheaded puffinry for which you need to apologise to Miss Entwhistle" (p335)

Keller, hardly the most emotionally perceptive man in Even Greater London, automatically infers from the fact that Fleet is on his own that he has had a falling out with Clara, rather than that they just happen to be in different places. When all is well, Keller expects to see the two of them together, whether or not they are in a position to be actively working a case.

Going back earlier in their partnership, Keller makes a similar assumption about Fleet and Clara being inseparable in S2E6. When Clara shouts her name amidst Keller's anti-Vidoc booby traps, Keller asks "Entwhistle? Which means… Fleet?" Again, there's this idea that if one of them is there, the other is likely to be there too - they come as a pair. (It's worth noting that this scene takes place less than two weeks after they first met.)

“Like a friend might?”

At the end of S3E7, Fleet suggests that he and Clara go to the theatre together. It would have been easy for this invitation to have been explicitly framed as a romantic proposition, or even for the nature of the offer to have been left more ambiguous. But Clara says "Archibald Fleet, are you inviting me to a social activity? Like a friend might?" The use of the word 'friend' directly labels this as a platonic interaction. And it's with that platonic lens on it that Clara is extremely excited to spend non-work-related social time with Fleet.

“Maybe it'll just be my good luck charm.”

CLARA: My grandmother's ring, I don't suppose you managed to hold on to it? [...] FLEET: Oh, it's been crushed.. I'm sorry Clara [...] CLARA: No, you keep it. FLEET: What? No... CLARA: Keep it. Maybe it'll remind you not to run towards trains. FLEET: Maybe. Maybe it'll just be my good luck charm.

In S3E7, Clara gives Fleet a ring, which - as a gift from one person to another - is traditionally a symbol of a particular, legally recognised, kind of personal commitment. But when Clara tells Fleet to keep the damaged ring, down in the Underground tunnels after the destruction of the beast and Fleet's latest brush with death, it is quite a different situation to a wedding or a proposal. A married man would traditionally wear his wedding ring on his finger for all to see, but Fleet won't ever wear this ring like that. The ring itself has been bent into a different shape between the wheels of their misadventures, subverting the usual associations of a ring given from one person to another. (In a heteronormative world, those associations are particularly strong when the two people in question are a woman and a man.) 

That ring is not an engagement ring, but it is Clara’s grandmother's ring, an inheritance from the blood family she never really felt she belonged in, now given to the man who might be a very different kind of family for her in London. That ring - with which Clara saved Fleet's life - is a symbol of their bond. And it therefore serves as a reminder for Fleet “not to run towards trains" and as a “good luck charm”. I like to think he'll carry that ring with him, perhaps in his jacket pocket - a little piece of his partner, kept close to his ticking heart…

Thank you for reading all of this!

If you’ve read all of this, I'm assuming you also enjoy the concept of Fleet and Clara as a QPR (unless you're really a glutton for punishment) and that makes me very happy! This was long because there's so much to say about them… And I wrote all of the above without even getting into: the potential to headcanon Fleet and/or Clara as aspec (which I don't think is necessary for QPR headcanons, but which is also fun); Clara's baggage around and discomfort with marriage in general; the speed with which Fleet and Clara become a ride-or-die duo; and the many other demonstrations of care, understanding, trust, respect, and affection between them that didn't feel as directly QPR-coded to me but are nonetheless wonderful. Please do feel free to share your own thoughts!

[jupitercl0uds]

i love it when there is a little tiny robot with big round eyes

[jartnell]

Kind of want to fuck Sir John. It's over for me I think. That's one step too far

[akkivee]

saw an article of a fan ranking the hypmic characters based on who they’d like to marry as an older fan and they don’t have bad taste, rosho was number one lmao but what they had to say about doppo actually killed me LOL

‘i don’t see how he’d be able to make time for me working at that black company. and even if he were to get a job at a better company, I don’t think i can beat out his childhood friend’

[lilianhuas]

Snowfall episode 15 turn you into a vampire with theatrics

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

sussy

First Rook, now Trey 🤡 LOOK AT THEIR FAcES, WhY ARE tHEY SO SUSSY

I now know to never step into the labs while the sus Science Club boys are in there 👱‍♂️

[kimbapisnotsushi]

i really have to hand it to the guy she wasn't interested wasn't a guy at all for romanticizing the hell out of neon green

[chaifootsteps]

Recently the first episode of Helluva Boss received an official Latin Spanish dub, and I just want to share the fun fact that in Spanish, Blitzo is voiced by the same VA as Gene from Bob's Burgers while Stolas is voiced by the current Va of Kermit the Frog.

Apparently the Spanish fandom absolutely hates it, which is even better.

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

Dave: becoming emotionally attached to dave strider B(

[perpetual-blue]

fave panels from this week’s chapter 🥹