#Carrie plays tlou

[forcestruck]

@tlounetwork | The Last of Us week 2023 Day #3: Favorite Parallel

[r3starttt]

Dealer!Abby who is soooo infatuated with her soft fem gf please🧎🏽‍♀️

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dealer! Abby who is just so in love with you. Carrying a pic of you in her truck, right next to the mirror decal and in her wallet ofc. She used to give you discounts at first if not even gift you some on special occasions, she was quick to ask when your birthday was, if you were single, see if you had any friends in common- just trying to know you. You quickly became one of these people you see once, and suddenly they’re everywhere, and at one point, the temptation won, a messy make-out session that would be just the beginning. Now here you are, on her lap, just looking at her. those pouty lips wrapping the joint and her puppy eyes fixated on your face. The pine smell of her perfume, soap, every hygiene product she owned - disappears each second that passed by. Abby looked in awe, way too relaxed with her usual braid a bit messy, some baby hairs resting on her forehead and on the sides of her face, cascading right above her cheeks. She had the pretties sheepish smile you could ever see, her lips glistening and rosy cheeks flushed, covered with some of your glossy kisses. Her hand moved to your thighs, rubbing the skin up and down while her fingers forced your mouth to open, grabbing the joint for you.

“you look lost” your voice a mutter before she shushed you. Abby shrugged, her hand squeezing the fat of your legs before the pads of her fingers played with the edges of your skirt. your eyes never left hers- locked on your lips. You were about to grab the joint yourself, take it out and just give her a small kiss, but she moved first, with her fingers leaving the joint and her pretty eyes looking at you before she connects her lips with your neck, just leaving a small chain of wet kisses- an invisible pattern. “what’re you doing?” her hand left your skirt, now focused on hugging the sides of your stomach, just needing the contact, the warmth of your body. Her kisses stopped “nothing” a whisper on your neck followed by her nose tickling you. But what was she supposed to do when you smelled and felt so good? so pretty. “Love you baby-“ kiss “so much”

[lokidjarin-7567]

Day 9: Hate Sex

Joel Miller x you

Contents: fem!reader x Joel Miller (TLOU), smut, kinda dubcon (??), not well edited

W/C: 1.4k

I love Pedro Pascal and I love Joel so here we go!!

Kinktober Masterlist | General Masterlist | AO3

"Oh Joel, why are you so angry?" you muttered, watching as he gritted his teeth. You moved towards him slowly until you were a breath from his face, eyes boring into his. "It wasn't me who messed up that deal. It was my brother. I'm just the messenger…"

"Bullshit," he spat. "Tess told me you were there, and I'm inclined to believe her, not you."

"Look, if you wanted the goods so badly, you should've come yourself…"

"It was a fucking deal, and you went back on it."

"Not my choice."

"You play so fucking innocent," he muttered, venom in his tone as he moved slightly closer. "You know exactly what you're doing."

"And what's that?" The air was charged suddenly, and you couldn't help but flirt a little. You enjoyed pissing him off, and you could see his anger, but you also couldn't deny how insanely attracted you were to him—especially when he was angry.

"You're…" You edged closer again, just inches from him, and watched as he tried to get his words out, eyes scanning your face. "Trying to get a rise out of me."

"Am I?" You glanced at his lips pointedly, and he maintained the same infuriating eye contact. There was such intense hate seeping from him, and you couldn't help but smile.

"You're insufferable." You swallowed, questioning your next move, but then you glanced down to see the tent in his trousers.

"You sure about that?" He snapped, forearm against your collarbones and pressing you against the door with a force that almost winded you. You laughed at the outward display of aggression, but he cut you off as his lips smashed into yours. It was violent and instinctual, his arm moving to the base of your neck. You gasped up into the heat of his mouth as he applied some pressure there. He growled as your body responded, leg wrapping around his waist and hips grinding into his.

You couldn't breathe, his lips continuing to press against yours combined with his forearm against your neck, and it just made you buck into him more. He laughed darkly into your mouth, the taste of him frustrating you. You had started this. Teasing him. Goading him. Trying to get him to snap. And now that he had, you wanted to play hard to get, to resist him, to carry on hating him… but you couldn't. Your body was betraying you.

It wasn't until your nails dragged down his forearm that he let up, the sudden access to air making you moan just as the hot furnace of his mouth left yours and fell to the sore spot on your neck where his arm had been.

"What are you doing…" you finally managed to gasp between whimpers, hands gripping his shoulders tightly as his own pressed your hips firmly to the wall.

"Just shut up," he grumbled, pulling you harshly from the wall and pushing you towards the bed. You had been flipped over before you could say anything else, and you couldn't help but grin as you felt his hand come down across the back of your ass.

You were glad he was being ruthless. If you were being honest with yourself, you had wanted to fuck Joel for a long time— there was just something about his low, Texan drawl and slutty jeans that made you press your legs together. But you just wanted to fuck him. In this world, there was no space for relationships, just animalistic, filthy, hateful sex. You wanted to be used, to be thrown around to his liking, to be spanked and choked and slapped because if you fucked like that and never really spoke, there would be no room for feelings.

You were so caught up in the moment that you barely registered Joel's hands grabbing at your pants. With fumbling fingers, you managed to undo the button, allowing him to swiftly slip them off your ass. The cool air hit your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Without warning, his hand cracked against the soft flesh of your backside. This time, the impact was more intense, a sharp sting that radiated outward. A feral moan escaped your lips, and you instinctively pressed yourself back towards him, craving more of his touch.

The back of your thighs made contact with his own, the heat from his body seeping into yours. You could feel the hard length of his shaft pressing insistently against your folds, the thin fabric of your underwear doing little to mask the sensation. Unable to resist, you ground back into him, relishing in the friction. The movement provided a slight relief from the relentless aching in your core, but it only made you want him more.

“Jesus, fuck me, Joel.” You groaned as you continued to press into him, and he just shoved you against the bed in response, leaving you face down in the sheets.

“Just shut up.” He grumbled again and you started to situate yourself. You moved to your hands and knees, how you’d assumed he’d want you, but he pressed you down and forwards, tearing off your underwear and climbing on top of you. You were completely at his mercy. His body weight was on you, you were pressed to the bed on your stomach, completely flat, only really able to lift your head. You even couldn’t see what he was doing. You should be scared. But you weren’t. For some reason, even though you fucking despised him, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. Well, not without reason.

There was no warning as he grabbed you roughly by your hips, so tight it was painful, slightly pulling them up and positioning you just right before sheathing himself into you completely in one swift, merciless thrust. The noise that was pulled from your throat was primal and unrestrained, almost a scream as every inch of his think member sunk into your core. He was big, so much bigger than you expected, and the sudden intrusion left you aching and gasping for air. You ached from taking all of him so quickly, but it was a good ache, a delicious fullness that had you seeing stars as he hit that perfect spot inside you. His own groan was addictive, deep and animalistic, a sound that reverberated through you. He tried to muffle it by sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder, the sharp pain making your cunt clench involuntarily around him, drawing another low growl from his throat.

He dropped your hips, one hands moving to your hair, gripping it tightly at the roots and twisting, forcing your head down against the bed. His other hand remained planted firmly beside you, supporting his weight as he loomed over you. You really couldn’t move now, hands scrabbling for purchase as he pulled out slowly, the drag of his cock against your sensitive walls almost unbearable. Then, without mercy, he slammed back into you, setting a punishing rhythm that left you gasping and whimpering beneath him. Your body was no longer your own, your total lack of composure making every sensation stronger and more devastating, every single one of your muscles turning to jelly, head spinning. You could feel the pressure building embarrassingly quickly, your impending orgasm coiling tightly in your core, and he could feel it too.

“Getting close there, doll?” He growled out, voice breathy, and you grit your teeth.

“Fuck… You… Joel..” You could barely breathe, using the last of your breath and focus to cuss him out, gasps and moans in between each word giving you away. It a few more smacks across your ass, the skin there feeling red raw and he grabbed the soft flesh, using it as a handle almost to pull you back into his hips. It worked, and within moments you had locked up, pussy pulling him further into you as pleasure washed over you. It was white hot, skin tingling all over as he continued to fuck you through it.

You were shaking by the time you were done, every thrust into you sending jolts through your body of building pleasure and overstimulation.

“Joel…” you muttered, a pathetic whine that escaped before you could catch it.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He moaned sarcastically. “You feeling sensitive?”

It was going to be a long night.

[naomis-daydream]

aftercare with abby <3

summary: abby taking care of reader after an eventful evening together.

warnings: mentions of sex, descriptions of nudity. no outbreak/modern!au. short n sweet fluff <33

a/n: my first abby work ahhh. i love my big sexy gf!! pic cred: hyujies on pinterest

don’t stop talking about palestine

tlou2 is based on the israeli occupation of palestine. don’t not purchase tlou-related products. i don’t mind making silly little fics abt silly little pixels but if ur interacting with my posts, know that i am in full support of palestine and palestinians

✧

7:48pm.

abby glanced at the clock on her bedside table, reading the time quickly before turning her focus back to you. the setting sun painted the room in a beautiful orange hue, illuminating every corner. though the sunlight never looked more gorgeous than when it landed on you.

you were laid on your stomach, hands placed under your cheek as deep breaths escaped parted lips. and while the comforter was stretched over your hips, the skin of your back glowed, and abby swore she saw a sparkle dancing across your body. perhaps it was the sweat from the evening’s previous endeavors, or her eyes playing tricks on her, but then again her eyes always saw stars when it came to you.

you were absolutely ruined.

by the time she got done with you, your legs hardly had the energy to carry you to the bathroom. in fact the blonde had to do so herself.

“tired you out, huh pretty girl?” she’d tease, making you blush and bury your face in her neck as she carried you bridal style over the threshold and into the bathroom.

she carefully took a damp wash cloth to clean your inner thighs. “open up for me, baby.” the entire time you’re sleepily mumbling sweet nothings in her ear with a cheek on her shoulder.

“i love you so much abigail,” you’d whisper. to which she’d always reply, “i love you more.” no matter how much you tried to fight her on the subject, it was but a losing battle.

after getting cleaned up, you both had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, the soft beating of your girlfriend’s heart lulling you to sleep.

that was hours ago.

abby had woken up before you, rubbing her eyes and checking the time, seeing you both had been asleep for nearly two hours. usually, she’d wait for you to wake up so you’d decide together on what to eat. though, it was getting late, and most restaurants would be closing within the hour.

she could softly shake you awake or go grab something quick for the two of you, but if she’s learned anything in the past two years, it’s to never interrupt your beauty rest and don’t leave you alone while you’re asleep.

the taller girl ponders momentarily, though the growl of her stomach is what pushes her to climb out of bed, careful not to wake you.

she throws on a comfortable outfit, walking out the closet to give your forehead a quick kiss.

once she’s got to her car she sends a quick text in case you were to wake when she’s gone.

to my love: hey baby, just stepped out to grab dinner. be back soon ���️

✧

[heavenbloom]

🇵🇸 BEFORE YOU READ:

DAILY CLICK • BOYCOTT TLOU • DONATE

please do not skip over this! continuing to support palestine in any way possible is much more important than reading any piece of fanfiction.

𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒊: 𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒏

knight!abby x princess!reader

summary: your plans to usurp your despotic brother are halted when he assigns one of his strongest knights to keep an eye on you. what will wither and what will blossom in her presence?

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, political elements, fem afab reader, princess reader is manipulative, extensive descriptions of blood and violence, graphic depiction of murder, subtle enemies to lovers (more so in next chapter), degrading terms used in a non-sexual manner, insults, profanity, probably ooc?, not edited, reader discretion advised

a/n: this is HEAVILY inspired by The Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri. this song is the atmosphere i was going for if you wanted to listen while reading!! dedicating this to @catfern, love you <3

wc: 4.7k

The corpse-quiet hours before dawn settled over the world with the languidness of dripping wax. There was a tenseness to it, beneath the silence, the twinings of a tautly strung instrument. You could smell it on the breeze too, a lick of disturbance carried sharply on the air alongside the fragrance of jasmine and rose. This night was a thing too tender for imminence, you thought, as you watched off-white petals scatter across pristine marble.

You felt it in your bones first, as it reverberated through the night. It felt like rolling thunder across the mountainside, but it was far too regimented to be birthed from mother nature. No, you knew this sound as intimately as your own heartbeat. 

Hoofbeats. Steadfast, almost urgent, as they ascended towards the palace. Through your balcony, you could see a sea of them, clad in the pure white of moonlight and the gold of dawn. At the very front jostled a garish carriage swathed in the same colours, flying your nation’s flags. You stepped further out onto the balcony. A retinue, a homecoming. Your brother has returned.

Of course, ease slid through your veins at the fact that it was not a darker reality encroaching, but it curdled instantaneously, soured by the notion that you would merely be a marionette tugged upon and prettied up in order to appease him. A dutiful princess, you would play the part of orator, musician, perhaps finally bride to a stranger if the King and all his attendants had his way. What were you but a flower with an endless array of malleable petals to be arranged this way and that? 

You drank in the perfumed scents that swirled around you, a sigh passing your parted lips. The silk curtains of your suite lifted like a breath, the solid colour broken apart by somebody familiar, whose chest rattled for the solace of fresh air.

Your features did not falter as your eyes remained fixed upon the retinue fast approaching. The girl, one of your many pairs of watchful eyes,  strode towards you, sweat upon her brow, a worrisome crease at the youthful corner of her lips. You remained fixed as you felt the brush of rough parchment against your smooth palm.

Politics was a game played by degrees, after all. It demanded quiet, the slithering of a black-belllied snake in the grass, waiting for the perfect moment to coil around its prey and squeeze. You let the paper unfurl against the wind, let it flap in the air as you read word upon word scrawled onto the page with an unsteady hand.

You knew what you hungered for, the prey that dangled just out of reach above your open maw. It glistened deepest oceanic blue cast in gold, and it sat safely atop of your tyrannical brother’s head.

Like all noble daughters, you knew that patience was a virtue. Things did not fall easily into your lap, so you would have to work for it, a dog searching ceaselessly for a single scrap of bone. You would let the meat of the empire simmer, wait until it was your turn to have your fill.

The parchment began to crinkle under the ferocity of your grip as your brother flashed through your mind. His smile, all canines. The cruelty that lurked just beneath the surface of that untarnished exterior.

With a fiery savagery singing in your veins, you silently declared that his crown would be yours.

        𖥸 𖥸 𖥸

The day’s last light was beginning to wither away, its last breath sweeping across the courtyard below and setting it ablaze. The air that seemed like an extension of your own lungs the night before was cloying now, pollen stuck in the crevice of your throat and tightening it with fist-strength.

There were certain things you expected of your brother, but this…

Your eyes flitted from the balustrade to the woman who stood just behind the gauzy silk draped across the doorway. She had a straight spine to match the strength in her features. Slight aquiline nose, plump lips, and those eyes, crystalline blue but honed from years of slinking, silent observation.  There was no denying the touch of regality woven throughout her being. If somebody had said she were an empress from some distant land, you would have believed them.

It wasn’t such an extravagance that granted you with her presence, though. A white cape threaded with gold was draped around her armour-laden shoulders. There was a sword at her hip, but the breadth of her body alone was enough to make anybody hesitate.

This woman, whose body was carved for the gruesomeness of the battle, was to be your watchful knight, under oath to quash any harm that may arise. 

A bitterness rose from the pit of your stomach to the back of your throat. Sworn protector. The words thrummed in your skull like jailer. It was clear from her unbroken gaze alone where her loyalties were placed, at the feet of your brother and your brother alone.

You were the first to break your eyes away, demurely, subtle but unerringly feminine, and more importantly, inferior. Your spine was straight, but you hung your head slightly, letting your eyes wander along the outline of lush greenery below. Your hands skimmed along the finery that swathed your body. You appeared reticent and meagre, but every minute movement was deliberate on your part, a dance in which you knew all the steps.

Her shadow of a presence was a setback, certainly, something to keep you at bay, but if you wove the right tale, spun an intricacy of honeyed words and laid syrupy sweetness upon her… this one, like any other, could be used, moulded and rolled like clay with the right pressure. All you had to do was locate a chink in her armour. 

You gave a hesitant pause, counted to three, until you walked the expanse of the balcony, back into your quarters, the tinkling of weighty jewellery sounding with each step you took. Even closer, she appeared much more powerful, the jagged lines of her face schooled into sternness. The refusal to drop her gaze in the presence of her new lady sent a shiver down your spine.

“Abigail.” Your voice was gentle, the lulling of a flute. “I am grateful for your service. To my dear brother, of course, but especially to me.” You stepped closer to her, but remained at a polite distance, a benevolent smile gracing your lips.

Her face remained the same, but there was a slight quirk to her thick brows. She was used to doing bloody work for the King, but you could tell that she was unused to interacting with royalty.  “My loyalty is to the crown. I would do anything His Majesty asked of me, princess.” Ah, what a well trained response. As expected of one of the most renowned weapons in your brother’s arsenal.

“Yes, and it warms my heart.” You ensured your smile widened, your eyebrows softening in tandem with the lovely upward curve of your mouth. “I have heard stories of your bravery. To have such a hero protect myself alone… well, it feels rather a waste of talent, does it not?”

Her lips parted for a moment at the steer in conversation. You could see the hardness melting from her face like butter, replaced by an expression unreadable. It was too early to tell whether there was now a weakness to strike at, but it was better than talking to the righteous facade of her. “My talents can be just as useful in the Royal Palace as they would be on the battlefield.” Her words were as certain as solid stone, unmoving in their conviction.

“Such a noble heart you have.” You let the distance close between the two of you, then, your body just a few mere inches away from steel. Your hand met the one at her side, soft fingers grazing across leather, the cool hilt of her sword brushing against your knuckles. “But you do not need to protect me. Guards swarm this palace, after all.”

You expected abashment, the averting of that steady, unbreakable gaze, but not so much as a twitch of her fingers was drawn out of her. Still, you pressed on, as a thumb circled a spot on her gloved hand. “You would be better suited to attacking any threats at the root, dear knight. I could arrange you to be back where you once were. Not here, not with me.”

These lies, this faux flattery, left your tongue with the ease of second nature. You had none of the power you wished to possess, and you could not fulfil any such promise to her, but a few sweetened words could at least put you in her good favour, string her along for at least for a few moments outside of her obstructive gaze.

Something flashed across her features, but it was not the distant yearning for battle, not even the consideration of your hefty offer. You felt her thick fingers slip, gently, out of your grasp. Shock burst in your chest when her lips curled into a smile. Not completely unkind, but belittling all the same.

“The way we view honour differs greatly, princess.” Her mouth shaped the words slowly, deliberately and they hung in the air like an accusation. The last of the sun filtered through the balcony, causing the stray hairs framing her face to shine gold, the dust of freckles on her cheeks to appear like a smattering of starlight. You were once again struck by the wondrous beauty of her, a blow to the ribs. 

You urged the swell in your guts down hastily.

“Is it so dishonourable,” you started, choosing to focus instead on that same jagged ambition that ate away at you, “to desire glory for oneself?”

The eyes that you thought resembled a pristine shoreline now darkened with the implications of your question. You watched as the storm passed across her face, as the act of noble knight swallowed her whole once more. 

“Glory means nothing if it is not for the sake of serving the King.” She finally averted her gaze to the rolling gardens below. 

“Our King.”

𖥸 𖥸 𖥸

Thunder rippled across the charred night sky, the rain beating against the earth with the ferocity of a thousand rapid heartbeats. Your quarters burst white and fizzled with each lightning strike, and you could see the dozing face of Abigail each time. She laid, with one arm cradling the back of her head, in a cot at the foot of your bed, her golden-brown lashes long enough to cast wispy shadows on the apples of her cheeks under the inconsistent light. Even in her sleep, she seemed to be withholding herself from you, despite the stretch of days you had spent together thus far.

Beneath the writhing rage that clawed at your insides, you felt a soft pang, something faint and unfamiliar, for this woman. She was forced to live her days, in utter numbness, waiting for an attack on your life that would never come. She was here to intimidate you into compliance, at your brother’s whims, and she was completely unaware of it. To be a pawn in such a twisted game unwittingly… It was cruel. But weren’t you attempting to do the exact same? The hypocrisy was completely not lost on you.

You watched her sleeping figure for a few more moments until you were certain she was asleep. Then, soundlessly, you slipped out of the embrace of your bed. The air was cool but heavy with humidity as you walked on the balls of your bare feet, your nightgown brushing your ankles and sending an anxious tremble up your body. You tried to move as swiftly as you could. Your spies and confidants were loyal enough, but even they would not wait out the entire night for you when there was other work to be done at dawn.

 An electric thrill jolted your being when you clasped the door handle. Was evading her watchful eye really so easy? Was all you had to do is slink around in the deep hours of dark?  You bit down a smile as the heavy door gave way . Freedom, for a few mere minutes at least, was just beyond the door…

“My Lady?” Something glacial hardened in your veins. The voice was hoarse with the remnants of slumber, but there was no doubting the razor-edge awareness of it. 

For a beat, you were too stunned to face her. When you didn’t turn, she spoke again. “Princess, what are you doing out of bed?”

What was the safest way to avoid her suspicion? The crashing of thunder sliced through your thoughts like a knife, offering you an escape route on a silver platter.

You whorled around, your eyebrows high-strung. Abigail was sitting upright, her head tilted and her unbound blonde hair dripping over one shoulder. There was no armour covering the wide expanse of her chest, a rare exposure of bare collarbone and surprisingly soft skin. You would perhaps never get used to the sight.

You clutched the fabric of your nightgown and widened your eyes, fawn-frightened. “Abigail, I…” you let your voice taper off into a quiver.

She was up in an instant and striding towards you, brows knitted together. Despite the urgency vibrating every cell in her body, her large hands cupped your shoulders with a gentleness you thought so disjointed for a woman of her size and profession. You doubted she would have touched you if it weren’t for the haze of confusion that overpowered her usual meticulousness. 

“What is the matter? Speak to me, princess.”

“I-it’s absurd, I…” You trembled ever so slightly and could only pray that you were convincing. “The storm… well, it frightened me. I apologise. You mustn't be used to such frivolity.”

The tautness of her bow-strung body seemed to drift away all at once. Her shoulders drooped and she smiled, this time a thing of pure relief. “Is that all that this is?”

You nodded once, pulling yourself inward more and silently thanking whichever god had just granted you quick wits. She tsked softly and brought you closer to her. The warmth of her body was comforting, as alive as the spark upon a coal. 

“You can wake me when you’re frightened, my lady,” she breathed out, her breath rustling the hair at your ear. 

“I thought– I didn’t wish to burden you.” For once, there was a distasteful speck of truth in your words. She was a thing too gentle and straightforward for the ugliness of court politics. How could you ask her to help you usurp a throne she adamantly kneeled at the foot of?

“Princess,” she sighed, her hands trailing from shoulder to elbow. “Your brother has tasked me to protect you.” A lie, and yet she believed it so wholeheartedly. A loyalty as steady as a heartbeat.

“You cannot be a salve for every little thing that ails me.”

“There’s a sort of protection in comfort, is there not?” Such naive words, ones a child could have spoken, but they rang throughout your entire being.

She was diluted ink in the dark of the storm, but the whites of her eyes and teeth shone with the sheen of pearl. Your lips parted, drinking in a shaky inhale. You should have kept playing the delicate flower  in distress, but you were teetering on the edge of something dangerous and curious, a hunger that gnawed at the very marrow of your bones. A hunger that you had no choice but to satiate.

“And how do you intend to comfort me, dear knight?”

A moment of something heady passed, and you could practically see the churning of her mind, the weight of precariousness at her throat like a glinting blade. You knew then that the same starvation engulfed her own being, your hands slithering down to her wrists and clutching them. 

“I would do whatever you ask of me, My Lady–”

“No,” you cut her off, tracing a sliver of puckered flesh that outlined her bare wrist. A quaint shiver wracked her shoulders at the abrupt stone of your voice, unbidden. “No, Abigail. How do you wish to comfort me? Speak plainly.”

“I want…” Her voice was strained, the word leaden and fumbling on her tongue, her own will now foreign to her. Her hands tightened around your elbows. “What I want… what I desire, is not so easily spoken, princess.” 

Even in the dark, her eyes were the bottomless wells of a carefully guarded vulnerability. You wanted to chip away at that wall she had between you and her, between anyone but her fiery devotion and her own self.

You cupped her cheeks with the soft, uncalloused palms of your hands, watched as her reluctance dissolved with the touch. 

“Then show me.” 

Perhaps all that was needed was an uttered confirmation that you felt the same infuriating emotions. You had torn through the neat little bow of restraint that kept her being together, and now it was uncontainable, this ever-swelling.

There was a moment of hesitation, shared breath mingling sweetly, before she pressed her lips to yours. She cradled your waist as if you were porcelain, but her kiss was a beast of want, all teeth and tongue. Your back melded with the carvings of the door as she nudged you back, wooden jasmine blossoms and orchids keeping you tethered to the moment. You kissed back with just as much viciousness, astonished by your own affections welling up like crimson from a finger pricked.

It was with the ebb and flow of ocean waves that she let you go just as promptly as she had kissed you, her face a hazy mass of surprise in the semi-dark, leaving only the remnant of her warmth against your skin, the phantom of soft lips and tongue.

Her fingers scraped her blonde locks away from her face, chest heaving. 

“Princess,” she spoke through the ragged edge of her breath. There was a singed quality to her voice, raw and crisp. “Princess, it would be improper to continue.”

Disappointment, to your dismay, pooled in the pit of your stomach. You turned your head to the side and gave a feeble nod, swallowing at the thick knot lodged in your throat. Letting her warm your bed would be unwise, you reminded yourself now. It would serve no purpose to your goals, and a lovesick knight trailing you around was the last thing you needed. And yet... 

“We cannot cross that line,” she whispered. You felt the gentle snaking of arms around yours as you were pulled close to her chest, your ear snug against it. “But I am still here.” Her heartbeat was hummingbird-rapid, a reflection of your own.

She led you back to the bed and watched intently as you laid down beneath the smooth blanket. You stared in return. How was a person sharpened for such luridness able to wield tenderness the way she did a weapon? It was more frightening, you silently mused, than any tale of her violence could offer. It did little to divert the ache that seeped to your very bones, the craving for it.

Lightning still ruptured the heavens, followed dismally by a cacophony of thunder.

“Abigail.” Your hand drifted into the air, toward her. She held it gently in both of hers.

“Are you still frightened?”

Your plan for the night had been uprooted, and you had no choice but to remain here in this room. You traced each feature of hers with your eyes, lingering on the worrisome crease of her brow. Perhaps… “Yes, a little.”

Perhaps, this once, sweet selfishness was justified. Perhaps you could let this sordid business of trickery and usurpation float from your mind. This once…

“Will you lay beside me?” You sat up, peeling the blanket aside. “It would help me a great deal.”

“My lady…”

“Innocently, of course,” you reassured. “To know someone is beside me, to share that warmth… it would ease my nerves greatly.”

A beat passed, then another. “I think… It's something I also need. For tonight.”

“For tonight,” you echoed, patting the empty space of the bed next you. 

She clambered in beside you without another word, a slow exhale escaping her when her head softly hit the pillow. You could feel her breath fan over your face gently, followed by a soothing, steady hand on your arm.

“Will you hold me?” There was a waver in your cadence, something unbearably soft puckering to the surface. “Is that okay?”

 You were encircled by her arms, so gently that you felt, something swirl inside of you, just to then sink. 

Consciousness left her almost instantly at the feel of your body against hers. The comfort of someone to hold in the eternal stretch of night elleviated the quiet ache that thrummed and tugged at her own being. 

You listened as she slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep, until the sky stopped its tears and the only sound that could be heard was the rhythmic thump, thump, thump of her heart at your ear.

𖥸 𖥸 𖥸

The marble was icy beneath the soles of your feet, each footfall echoing softly through the desolate, cavernous halls. The lanterns flickered low, the walls cast in leaping, ravenous shadows. 

Wait for me at the entrance to the orchard, you had told your spy, an inconspicuous place for business made in the night, but as you reached the intricately designed archway, you were met with the absence of the living. The sharp smell of damp earth and overripe fruit wafted through the open space, yet it did little to calm the eerie feeling in your blood. 

Perhaps you were too late, or perhaps she had appeared conspicuous. A fist of disappointment twisted at your gut, but relief flooded your veins with it. There was silence, at least. Stagnance was a better ordeal than disruption. You turned away from the trees, feet almost silent without the usual finery adorning your ankles.

A whisper against the precious stone. Something scratching and picoting, until you felt the brush of it at your leg. Frozen, you peered at what had touched you. A piece of flimsy paper, the uncertain handwriting that you had come to know so well. Between the looping letters of secret after secret unfurled, vermillion stained the thin sheet. Vibrant. Fresh.

A man at the very first tree, the shimmer of the whites of his eyes furious and expansive. You knew this face, these pompous clothes, the cruel, all-knowing scowl on his lips. Your brother’s confidant and his closest advisor. If this man could stretch himself as thin as a carpet to soften your brother’s steps, he would have.

His movements were rigid, yet quick as he lunged in your direction, teeth bared and motivated by his sweltering rage alone. His cheek was streaked with the same shade of red.

“You treasonous whore!” He swiped his hands at you, but you scrambled away at the very last moment. “Traitor!”

“My Lord–” Your heart thrusted against your ribcage, your breath coming out in uneven, shattering breaths. There was no cajoling such a blind beast. His voice was much too loud, his body propelled by something untethered to reason.

You were going to be found out. He had the evidence and his screams were enough to alert any guards patrolling the slumbering palace. You had to do something, you had to–

He lunged forward again, forceful yet sloppy. Your body began to react on its own accord.

The blade was an ugly little thing, stolen from beneath Abigail’s pillow weeks ago and fastened in a makeshift sheath of torn silk and ribbon, held steadily enough by a bangle at your wrist. It was in your hand, slipping from the snugness of the material and clanging against the jewellery with the same delicate ring of anklet bells chiming in the midst of dance and song. A song of retribution, thrumming, awake and unabated, in your veins.

The moment was a blur, the contact of iron to skin one you could not even comprehend until a surprised, wet sound bubbled forth from the nobleman’s lips. He slumped forward against the blade, his eyes glassy. Lifeblood trickled down the hilt of the blade and down your fingers. The warmth of it made your stomach churn. 

Before you could pull the blade out, he swayed to the side, toppling to the ground with a sickening thump. Crimson bled across the stark white of the floor, pooling beneath his now motionless body.

The bile of pure panic rose to your throat, face leached of warmth. What have I done? What have I done? What have I–

“Princess?” A voice of honeycomb, even when it wavered with such uncertainty.

No.

You stared ahead, the bulky outline of her blurring only to refocus as she got closer. There was a look that had never graced her face before, one of confusion mixed with something akin to horror. Had she known this man? Taken orders from him?

But she did not look down at the grim image at her feet, but rather at you. Your stained fingers, the way your face had grown ashen and fear-stricken.

Her fingers ghosted over your cheek, but stopped short of making contact. “What…” You could hear the thoughts that knotted in her mind. How could such a sweet thing – you – do this?

A shout sounded down the hall, and you flinched, eyes darting in the direction as a new wave of bone-rattling fear crashed down upon you. There was a clamour, the sound of swords against urgently moving legs. 

Abigail pulled her hand away from you as if seared. Hardness seeped into the cracks where her moment of bare emotion shone. A moment ticked by, voices growing closer.

With a flash of movement, she yanked the blade out of the lifeless body beside her, a sickening squelch that did not seem to rattle her, and turned her back on you. Surely she had to be more selfish than this?

“Abigail–”

“Be silent and stay behind me.”

Your voice sank down into an urgent whisper. “Your recklessness is going to get you killed.”

Her head turned toward you then, her gaze meeting yours. Blue flame, a flicker of pure torment. 

“You have already made me your accomplice.” They should have been sweet, simple words, but they held the acrid tang of rotting fruit, bitter and wilting despite their saccharine nature.

They were encircling you in an instant, guards wearing the colours of the sun and the moon. Their swords were raised, but they waited for something…

The guards parted, roiling ocean waves. You watched as your brother stepped his way to the front, head held high.

Without a single word, Abigail dropped to her knees, the blade clanging against the floor and skidding away from her to rest at his feet.

Your brother did not spare her a glance. His eyes pinned you in place, cold and measured. He did not ask about the commotion or point grieving eyes towards his closest advisor. No, he already decided on what truth in this he would spin and alter in order to squash you beneath his bejewelled hand. 

As he stared you down, you gazed at the back of Abigail’s neck, peach-toned skin peaking beneath the cascade of blonde waves over her shoulders. You wanted to reach out, to touch her one last time if only to bid farewell.

Such a rotten heart you had. You felt it thump mournfully, greed winning out in the end. 

Your lips remained tightly locked as she took the fall for your turpitude, an act of the foulest betrayal.

As you watched them drag her away, you may as well have been clapping the chains around her wrists yourself. 

Who knew that even a blade of the soul could be double-edged?

[thisiscarlatrying]

modern!ellie hcs

notes/warnings: this is my first time doing something like this.. 😭😭 i hope u like it🙏 also, ellie and reader are dating and a lil of loser!ellie... that's just the way she is 😞

not proofread i think, i'll try to make it as good gramatically as i can but no promises 🙏🙏 (english is not my first language forgive me 😭😭)

| CONGO, SUDAN, PALESTINE | DAILY CLICK | DON'T BUY TLOU |

modern!ellie who cuts her own hair.. she REFUSES to go to a hair salon, she says it's a "waste of time and money"

modern!ellie who is kind of into fashion, i think she'd dress like this or like this...

also i just know she LOVES LOVES LOVES jorts, when spring starts that's ALL she'll wear

AND you guys just share clothes, you steal all her clothes and she steals yours

modern!ellie who wears a LITTLE bit of makeup, just mascara and chapstick. highlighter for special occasions

also her lips are so dry... 😭 she applies chapstick every five minutes and is constantly losing hers so you had to get her a one of those BIG vaseline things because she wouldn't stop stealing yours

modern!ellie who is a cat girl. you guys have like three cats together and they all look like the both of you

also their names are you guys' ship names until you ran out of name combinations and the names you had to choose were something like "sardine" or "chicken nugget"

modern!ellie who just loves kids cartoons like adventure time or the amazing world of gumball

modern!ellie who is CONSTANTLY daydreaming about being spidergirl and swinging around the city (spidergirl!ellie hcs coming soon... 🤭)

modern!ellie who plays minecraft and stardew valley for eight hours straight

modern!ellie who LOVES youtube and can't have a meal without watching a video

i KNOW she loves sinjin drowning. I DON'T MAKE THE RULES 🤷‍♀️

modern!ellie who has an INSANE vinyl collection.. it's all divorced dad music but she also owns a few of your favourite albums for when you come over<3

modern!ellie who is a barista. JUST HEAR ME OUT OKAY. while she's studying in college or something she works part time at a cafe... picture her with her little ponytail (like 17yo ellie) and her sleeves rolled up... UGHHH😭😭 she's so fine i can't.

talking about college... modern!ellie whose major is something nerdy like physics, astronomy or engineering... or maybe even architecture since she likes drawing so much

modern!ellie who was BEGGING you to move in with her until you finally agreed.. your apartment is the cutest thing ever, i feel like ellie's decorating style would be something like this:

modern!ellie who loves cuddling SOOOO MUCH. she's so touchy, she just IS.

modern!ellie whose burps make the entire building shake. it's actually insane and they smell so bad like.. you can smell the subway meatball sandwich she had for lunch earlier that day 😭😭

modern!ellie who constantly brags about you being her girlfriend, she never shuts up about you. and all of her instagram and tiktok posts would be about you (except from her outfit checks, of course)

modern!ellie who loves those cliche robbing movies, do you know what i'm talking about?? like those about robbing a bank or a museum and there's this incredibly unrealistic plan that comes out perfectly... THOSE kinds of movies. she eats them up EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

modern!ellie who fights with people on the internet constantly 😭😭 she sees a comment on a tiktok video with an opinion different than hers? SHE'LL REPLY. and she's going to wait for HOURS for the other person to respond

modern!ellie who secretly loves laland. i said it.

modern!ellie who either sleeps for 12 hours straight or won't sleep for two days. there's no in between.

modern!ellie whose walk is so funny 😭😭 it's almost like she's jumping while she walks

modern!ellie who carries a picture of you absolutely EVERYWHERE

and your apartment is filled or pictures of both of you

modern!ellie who loves her friends. she makes those stupid tiktok slideshow trends about friends but posts them privately because she's embarrased about it 😢😢😢

modern!ellie who has a journal and writes every single thought that crosses her mind down. and when she doesn't have her journal with her she writes in her notes app

modern!ellie who secretly fucks with taylor swift's sad songs and cries to them

okay i think that's enough.. im getting a little too carried away 😭😭 lmk if you like them or if i should make a part two!!

[joels-shitty-puns]

I'm gonna make a request again (sorry your last one was too good for me not to ask again) but this time for a jealous Joel! Maybe the reader and him have been friends for a while and she's oblivious to his flirting and she finally lands a date? How it goes from there can be up to you! I just love the jealous and possessive trope.

The Jealousy Bug

Pairing: Jealous!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Hi!! I'm so sorry this took me so long to write, but thank you for the request!! I hope you like it!! I got a lil carried away... hope its not too much smut.

~~~~~

(Reader and Joel live in Jackson, amid the apocalypse)

Word count: 6.8K (oof)

Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI!! Smut smut smut. P in V sex (likely unprotected but not specified. Its an apocalypse, yo.), masturbation (m and f), sort of dubcon? voyeurism?? sorta?, kissing, talk of genitals and arousal, horny behavior. Explicit language and mean names. Alcohol. Violence: infected, guns, punching, mention of a knife. Joel is kind of a jerk sometimes. Possessive. Mentions of loss and grief (all within S.1 of TLOU). I haven't played part II yet so we're just gonna ignore what we know happens there. Joel and Ellie are happy in Jackson. Joel and Reader are friends and sort of neighbors. Clueless idiots in love. A total asshole of a guy in the town. Lil bit of fluff/romance? Mention of bugs (pill bugs), but not in a gross way. If I missed anything, please let me know, and I apologize!

Other Stuff: Avoidance of reader descriptors, other than reader is AFAB. Mentions of having hair on the noggin. She/her pronouns. Reader is clueless and also clumsy as hell. Reader also drinks coffee and alcohol. Italics indicate thoughts.

__________

It was around 4PM when you filed into the community center for another mandatory patrol meeting. It may be an apocalypse, but even now, you wished this meeting could have been an email instead. Alas, that was a thing of the past, and you were unfortunately stuck listening to the usual spiel about necessary vs. unnecessary items to raid… The importance of remembering to ABC, “Always Be Cautious,” plants that can and can't be eaten, etc.

You sat in your usual spot, the back row next to Joel Miller. A year ago when you first moved to this town, first started patrol, you came into this very room not knowing anyone. Friend groups stuck together, each of the two front rows filled, yet a few empty spaces here and there. Instead, you walked towards the back of the room. A handsome man, who you soon learned was named Joel, sat by himself, three rows back, behind the last full aisle. He was alone. The whole aisle of chairs was empty. He sat with his arms crossed, and you could tell based on his posing that he was not the social type. 

You were feeling a bit nervous, having finally found a sort of civilization in this mess, and hoping the people of Jackson accept you and not just shoot you, like most camps do when they see unknown faces. Unsure where to sit, you continued to head towards the back, slightly drawn to the gorgeous gray-haired man in the last row. Not wanting to intrude, you sat at the far end from Joel. You could feel his eyes on you as you sat, but you didn't dare look over and make eye contact. Years of survival instincts have told you that, especially when someone doesn't want to be bothered.

_____

When you first walked into the room, Joel looked up. He sat in the back row, as usual, not wanting to get close to anyone. However, even if he did, nobody gave him the time of day. They have heard stories of what he’s done, they have seen him around town, often grumbling about something. They could tell he wanted to be left alone and they had no interest in testing how badly he wanted to be left alone.

Joel found it easier to not form connections. Tommy kept telling him to make friends, come around more, socialize in the town. But Joel had learned over the years why making connections never ends well. All he has is Tommy and Ellie, and neither of those were his initial decision, but Tommy is his only family, and somehow he let himself care for Ellie.

But when Joel saw you… there was a flash of longing. He saw you smile gently at Tommy with a small wave. He could see you shrink walking to your seat past the cliques. You were beautiful, and if it were pre-pandemic, you'd be the exact type he'd probably take interest to.

But those days are over.

Or… so he thought.

He set his eyes back down on his hands in his lap, avoiding eye contact with you when you sat down at the end of the row from him.

Why did she sit so far away? Am I that horrible to be around? His heart questioned.

You don't want to be near people anyway. Good she sat far away. Leave me alone. His brain tried to argue.

Tommy droned on and on, the meeting nearing an hour by now, and you could feel Joel’s eyes on the side of your face every few minutes. You don't know why he kept staring, but it made you feel nervous. Did you have something on your face or clothes? Did you smell bad?

Tommy knew his brother well, sometimes more than Joel likes to admit out loud, and as he talked, he took note of Joel’s staring. At first his expression looked confused, maybe irritated or disgusted. Then it looked slightly… disappointed. But he kept stealing glances your direction, and so with a smirk, Tommy assigned the two of you to be on patrol together. Joel questioned his reasoning afterward, but he knew there was no point arguing with his brother.

After that day, you patrolled together. You both went to the bar with the group after meetings. You sat closer and closer to Joel. You managed to get some words out of him, and he listened to you chatter on. But it was when you brought him a cup of coffee before patrol one morning that he finally let down his guard. His heart had betrayed his defenses.

“What's this?” He asked, gruffly.

“Coffee, Joel…” you replied with a joking eye roll. “It's black. I know you don't like anything in it.”

He took a sip, shocked to taste that you actually knew how he took his coffee. “How did you know that?”

“I notice things Joel.” You patted his shoulder, walking towards the group.

_____

Now, a year later, the two of you were very close friends. You still surprised him with things you remembered or noticed, but much to his chagrin, the one thing you didn't pick up on were his advances. He'd call you pet names, be sweet to you, treat you like a gentleman, flirt a little, and it was like talking to a robot. You were clueless.

Tonight's meeting finally ended, the large group heading outside to the chill fall air. “You wanna get drinks with the patrol squad?” you asked Joel. 

“Wouldn't miss it,” he winked at you, putting his leather jacket on his shoulders.

Although you went as a group, ultimately you and Joel spent most of the nights in your own little bubble, occasionally making space in your circle for Tommy, or Maria if she joined.

Tonight, the two of you sat at the bar, the patrol group spread throughout the room at different tables. Joel excused himself to use the restroom, and while he was gone, Jimmy, one of the other patrol members approached you. Hurrying before Joel returned, he flirted and asked you out on a date. You told him you'd think about it, that you weren't sure if you were ready for a relationship after years of caution.

Not technically a lie, you thought. Although you really just weren't ready for a relationship because your heart was already taken by your handsome best friend. 

Joel returned just in time to see Jimmy walking away. “What did he want?” Joel grumbled. “Ah nothin, just wanted to say hi while getting a drink,” you lied. Joel accepted this answer and the two of you drank into the night. At the end of the evening, you seemed pretty drunk. Jimmy offered to walk you home, but before you had a chance to reply, Joel replied for you.

“I'll take her home, thanks.” He bit, turning you away from Jimmy. “I don't like the idea of that boy walkin’ you home. Don't trust ‘im. ‘Specially not when you're in this condition,” he wrapped an arm around you, shuffling you toward the door.

“You don't think I can handle myself, Joel?” You asked him, pulling away, a little bit irritated at him treating you like a weakling. “I seem to do just fine on patrol,” you argued.

“I know that, sugar. I didn't mean it like that. I just don't trust that guy. Heard how he goes through women. Don't want him trying’ anything with you,” he brushed his hand over your hair, causing you to soften at his words and actions.

You gasped lightly. “Is THE Joel Miller… jealous?” You knew he wasn't, but why not test the waters?

“What? Jealous? Of what? No ‘m not.” he balked. “Just lookin’ out for you…”

“Mmhm… you just wanna be the only big strong man walking me home, huh?” You teased, tripping over your own feet. 

Joel caught you in his arms. “Big strong man, huh? ‘S that what you think of me?” 

Shit… did I say that? You panicked. Maybe I'm more drunk than I thought…

Deciding to tease it off, you replied, “well you do always seem to catch me when I fall…” with a wink.

Falling in more ways than one… you thought, frustrated.

He rubbed his neck with the hand not holding you upright. You could almost see a pink tinge to his cheeks.

No, that has to be the lights playing tricks on my eyes… you thought. No way Joel Miller was blushing at your words.

“I kinda have to, ya big klutz. Practically a liability. I oughta tell Tommy to add a safety section on patrolling with you,” he bantered.

“Ah, shut up” you laughed with a push, causing yourself to lose balance instead of Joel. He just gave a knowing look, causing you both to laugh as you continued walking, now side by side instead of him holding you up.

After a few moments of silence, you spoke up. “You know, I could've walked myself home, Joel,” you stumbled, giggling.  

“Whoa there, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around you again, propping you up. “Don't worry about it. Let's just get you home. You've had way too much to drink.”

“You're so sweet Joel,” you pouted at him, booping his nose. “Joelly Joel.” You giggled. “Jolly Joelly.” Another giggle. “I dunno why people think you're so grumpy. I think you're just a big teddy bear,” you closed your eyes, leaning your head on his shoulder while he stumbled forward, trying to keep you upright.

“Who says I'm grumpy, darlin’?” He tilted his head towards you, smirking. “The whole town, silly. Silly Joelly. Joely-poly.” You gasped abruptly, causing Joel to jerk and turn to face you. “What? What is it?” His hand reached for his knife on his hip. Old habits die hard.

“Joely-poly!!” You squealed. “Awe! Roly-polies. Remember those!? I used to love them when I was little.” You pouted. “Before this whole world went to shit.”

Joel thought back to the little pill bugs, playing in the dirt with them when he was younger. Teaching his own daughter about them. His heart aches for what he lost, but he also thinks of Ellie. He bets she would love the little bugs too.

“That's a cute nickname for you,” you smiled. “They're so cute. Just,” you booped his nose. “Like.” Boop. “You,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Another gasp from your lips.

He flinched again. “Darlin’, if you don't quit that I swear-”

“Joeeeel!” You pouted. “Do you think the roly-polies all died off with the infection!?” Your eyes welled up.

“Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. There's probably still some out there. Bugs could get cordyceps long before the fungus attacked humans, and they were still alive back then.” You looked up into his deep brown eyes through your fluttering lashes. “You really think so?” You leaned in, placing both your hands on his cheeks. His breath caught in his chest. “Darlin’, you drank a lot tonight-” you cut off his sentence, running your hands down his neck, resting your palms on his chest. His heart was beating a mile a minute. If he didn't know better, he'd worry his heart would leap out and fly away. 

Your eyes lit up and you slid off his chest, lowering clumsily to the ground and gripping his sides for balance. You were now on your knees, eye level with his crotch, hands on his hips. His breath was ragged and his stomach full of twirling butterflies. “Wh-what do you think you're doin’?” He asked nervously. You looked up at him with big eyes, your hands slowly falling down from his hips to his thighs as you tried to balance yourself in your drunken state. He couldn't help but feel his pants begin to tent at the position you were in. He would never take advantage of you in your current state, but trying to ignore the desire brewing in his body after so many months of unrequited feelings was challenging. Did you finally see his advances for what they were? Feelings instead of friendliness?

You grinned up at him, finally regaining balance. “I'm gonna go look for ‘em!” you turned and waddled away on your knees, heading a couple feet away, towards a patch of flowers off the path.

She just needed to use me as a ladder, or what…? Joel thought to himself with a sigh and shaking his head in disappointment, his sexual frustration at its breaking point.

You crawled forward, falling onto your hands and knees in the soft dirt. Joel quickly stepped forward to try and grab you but realized, despite your lack of grace, you meant to do that. “Ugh… darlin', it's dark out here. It's cold. You're drunk. Let's get you home.”

“I'm looking for buggies, Joel!!” You leaned towards a leaf, arching downward so that your face was closer to the ground, ass up. 

“Oh, have mercy…” Joel groaned under his breath, his eyes drifting downward. Your ass was up in the air, facing him, the fabric of your dress having fallen forward towards your front. Your light pink panties were on full display for Joel, leaving little to his imagination in this position. Joel subtly adjusted his pants, looking up to the sky and shaking his head in a silent plea. 

You whined. “Joel, I don't see any.” You leaned farther forward, wiggling your butt somehow higher. Joel looked around, panicked at the thought that someone else might see you in this position. But luckily, you were close to your house and it was just the two of you out here. He turned back to you again. “I think it's time you get up and we go in-” you moved further forward, the streetlight shining above you and illuminating your ass. Joel tried to be a gentleman, but his eyes betrayed him. As he snuck another glance, he couldn't help but notice a little wet spot over the crotch of your panties. “In-inside…” he finished his sentence, words catching in his throat. He gulped, trying to divert his eyes. 

Taking a shaky breath and stepping forward, trying to ignore the throbbing need in his pants, he lightly grabbed your arm. “It's time to go sweetheart. The bugs are sleepin’ I think.” 

You looked at him and smiled mischievously. “I know, Joel,” you winked. Jumping up, you scampered towards your house, leaving Joel to wonder what the hell just happened.

“Woman's gonna be the death of me,” Joel muttered under his breath to himself. He caught up to you, just as you both approached your house. “Joel, I don't wanna go home. Can't I stay with you? And Ellie?” you batted your eyelashes at him. He rubbed his neck. “Ellie's with a friend tonight. But, you do have a point. You probably shouldn't be left by yourself in this state. Don't want you gettin’ hurt, or sick, and bein’ all alone.”

“Such a gentleman, Joel.” You touched his bicep, the two of you walking towards Joel's house across the street.

Hardly, he thought, grimacing at the reason he was aching in his trousers, feeling like an old creep, and a terrible excuse for a friend.

Once inside Joel's house, he gave you a baggy sleep shirt and a glass of water with some crackers to help with the alcohol. You changed, brushed your teeth with a spare toothbrush, and used the restroom. He let you have his bed, while he took the couch down the hall, scrunching his legs up to barely fit.

_____

Joel tried his hardest to ignore what he saw earlier and just go to bed, but the aching only continued, making it impossible to sleep. Sure that you must have fallen asleep by now, tucked away in his bed down the hall, he quietly reached into his pajama bottoms and boxers, pulling out his rock-hard penis. Even the mere touch of removing himself from his pants caused him to hiss, so worked up he could have cum just watching you bent over earlier.

He was a gentleman, but he was still a man, and one that hadn't been with a woman in a very long time. With as many people as he'd lost by one means or another, he'd told himself he wouldn't get close to anyone else. Sarah's mom. Sarah. Tess. Bill and Frank. Sam and Henry. He almost thought he had lost Tommy before Jackson, too. It was against his wishes that Ellie crawled her way into his heart, and then he almost lost her as well. He was beginning to think maybe it was him. He was cursed, doomed to have anyone he loved ripped away from him.

Which is why when you came to Jackson, he tried his best to ignore you. But you always greeted him, cheerful and sweet, like a little ball of sunshine that was somehow untarnished by the storm clouds of an apocalypse.

He was irritated to realize that he had made room in his heart for you. You caused an ache in his heart that yearned to be filled. A missing piece in his soul. A place for him to someday fit, tangled between sheets and loving words. It had been about a year since you moved to Jackson, and he still feared getting too close to you, yet he would try his hardest to woo you the way a gentleman should. Sweet nicknames, flirting, gentle touches. You never picked up on it. Whether or not you felt the same, he stupidly fell in love. Unsure if it was mutual, yet pretty sure it wasn't after all this time, he tried to ignore the dirty thoughts revolving around you when the late-night urges would hit him. Somehow it felt wrong.

But tonight, it was hard to avoid. Having you touch him. His face, his neck, his chest, his hips, his thighs. Kneeling eye level with his crotch. Slinking away, sticking your barely covered ass in the air, letting your wet panties be shown to him and only him. He couldn't get you out of his head as he stroked himself. First slowly, but then harder and faster, trying to reach his climax with the thought of him burying himself in that sweet spot underneath your wet underwear. How he longed to see you with his own eyes, begging for him.

He tried to be quiet, to keep himself hidden from you down the hall, but the noise of skin on skin grew slightly louder with each of his quiet moans and panting breaths that managed to slip from his lips. Imagining himself buried deep inside you, taking you from behind in the same position he saw you in earlier, imagining the tight grip around him and the slick noises he could only fantasize about. He could practically hear you moaning and sighing, the sound seeping from his subconscious to the living room. He pumped harder, swirling his thumb around the head, drooling with precum, as his climax grew closer. He could feel his strokes becoming less controlled and his balls pulling upward as he began to shoot load after load of white hot release up under his shirt onto his stomach. Stroking himself through it, he milked his last few ropes of cum out before laying back to catch his breath, slowly tucking himself back away in his pants.

Coming back to his senses, he realized the sounds of your moans and whimpers that he was imagining were still happening. Taken out of his fantasies when he finished, there was no reason for the sounds to still be in his head. Needing to grab a cloth from the linen closet down the hall anyway, he walked, nearing his bedroom door, and heard the unmistakable sound of you pleasuring yourself. Quietly, he padded down the hallway, closer to the door. He could tell you were trying to be quiet, but could still hear you, soft whimpers and pants, surrounded by wet schlick noises.

Fuck, he thought. He could feel himself already getting excited again, despite having just released a few minutes ago. He desperately wanted to join you in his bed, or at the least, stand by the door and listen to your sounds while pleasuring himself, but he wasn't going to be a creep, nor scare you to death. You were still his friend. Even if he did want to move the couch across the living room to hear you better.

_____

Meanwhile in Joel's room, you had tried to sleep. You really had. But tossing and turning, each roll causing your nose to be surrounded with his scent, you were thrown into a frenzy, like an animal in heat. Each smell of his cologne, shaving cream, deodorant, and natural body scent that you picked up from his bed sent a wave of arousal directly to your core. You wondered how many times he'd pleasured himself in this bed and how frequently. You wondered if he ever thought of you while doing it, imagining himself buried deep to the hilt inside of you, each drag of his cock more perfect than the last, much like you were imagining now.

You would be lying if you didn't say there were a lot of handsome men in Jackson. Granted, you had been without romance for a very long time, but still. Many of them were single, and some of them were very sweet and friendly. Yet for some strange reason, your heart had been drawn to Joel. The first moment you saw him, with his silvery curls and his grumpy face, his shining brown eyes and his patched beard, you were smitten. You were a bit disappointed that he seemed to be a massive grump, but despite what everyone said, he was always nice to you. Granted, you were always nice to him, so why should he be anything less, right?

He was always a total gentleman, calling you names like darlin’ and sweetheart, his southern drawl pulling you in like a lasso. His care for his unofficially-adopted daughter warmed your heart, and you could see he was a real family man from both their relationship, and the one he shared with his brother. It warmed your heart, especially when you befriended Tommy and Ellie, getting to hear them talk about Joel. Seeing the love they feel, even if they give him a hard time sometimes. You didn't see how people felt Joel was cruel or heartless, even with the stories you heard. Times were rough, and people did what they had to for survival. 

You were always too chicken to make a move, and you figured he wouldn't be interested anyway. Surely him calling you those names and being sweet with you was just his Southern gentlemanly nature, right? You were nice to him, he was nice to you. 

So tonight, when Jimmy, the local heartthrob in town, asked you on a date, you told him you'd think about it and let him know. Yeah, you claimed you weren't sure how you felt about relationships after all the world had become. Truth was, you wanted a last chance with Joel before throwing in the towel and settling for Jimmy.

Sure, Jimmy was handsome. Blonde hair, blue eyes, rugged, yet boyish. Several of the women in town had crushes on him, and he had had several of the women in town. You weren't clueless to the rumors about his playboy behavior. But it had been a while and well, you weren't getting any younger. It might be nice to have a partner, even if he did only want a short little fling. 

So throwing back a few drinks, you decided you needed the liquid courage to finally make a move at Joel. One last effort to get his attention. You still didn't want to say anything to him, lest it ruin your current friendship that had grown so strong, but you could certainly use your body to entice a little. Drinking just enough to be brave, yet not so drunk that you were completely out of it, you gave an impression you were much drunker than you were, and needed Joel to help you out. Jimmy had almost been the one to walk you home, to your disappointment, before Joel stepped in, seeming slightly irritated about Jimmy's offer.

Yet after practically waving your ass in his face, showing him your panties (which you were sure looked wet), being inches from his crotch at knee height, and hanging on him all the way home, to now sleeping in his house and his bed, you were quite sure he didn't feel the same. Obviously his gestures were pure gentlemanly charm if he didn't bite after tonight's show.

So you tried to sleep, still a little drunk, but getting drunker off his scent. You tried to ignore the ache between your legs but the thought of him in this bed, groaning as his hand pumped his member to completion, made you throb. Soaked and antsy, you finally gave in and stuck your hand under the waistband of your panties. You let your imagination run wild, picturing him taking you in this bed, bringing you to bliss more than once. You could practically hear him groaning and panting, the sound seeping from your subconscious to the bedroom.

Tomorrow you would likely tell Jimmy yes. But tonight, you would try your best to get Joel out of your system, one stroke of your fingers at a time. But as you finished, coming with a whisper of Joel's name under your breath, you could still hear the groans and pants from Joel. Climbing out of bed, you moved to the door, pressing your ear against it. You could just barely hear the sounds of him panting and groaning, intermittent with the fapping of skin on skin. Delightedly surprised, you listened harder, feeling your pussy drool at the thought. How desperately you wanted to go out into the living room and climb on top of him. But he might not want that… he probably just couldn't sleep. Probably nothing to do with the scene you put on earlier. So instead, you slinked back to his bed, opting for round two.

At some point, the two of you fell asleep, panting and writhing with the self-induced pleasure, and the sound of each other through the door.

_____

The next morning, you awoke, walking down the hall to see Joel in his pajama bottoms and no shirt, making coffee. Your eyes scanned his broad shoulders and back, naked and tan. Bringing you back to last night's events, you felt your breath catching in your chest. 

“M-morning” you stuttered out, nervously.

Joel jumped, having not heard you. He turned, greeting you with a good morning. A faint blush crept across his cheeks and he quickly turned his head to pour a cup of coffee, offering you some as well. Thanking him, the two of you sipped in silence, both stealing glances at the other and thinking of the night before. Both of you felt like you had a dirty little secret the other didn't know. 

“Thanks again for taking care of me last night,” you added. In more ways than one, you thought.

“Of course, darlin’. Couldn't have you walkin’ home all alone or getting sick in the middle of the night. You're always welcome here,” he smiled.

“Well, I guess I better head to my house now,” you sighed. “See you later at patrol?”

“Course. Take care, sugar.” He brushed his hand over your arm. That's new… you thought. But still, probably friendly, unfortunately.

____

Hours later, you show up to patrol, noticing Joel hasn't arrived yet. Still a few minutes early, you look at the map, thinking over the route. You felt a tap on your shoulder, and turned around to see Jimmy. 

“Hey, Jimmy,” you greeted, feeling slightly awkward. You assumed he probably wanted (and deserved) an answer. You rubbed your arm nervously, staring at the ground, wondering what to tell him. He was handsome, you thought, and you weren't getting anywhere with Joel. 

“Did you, uh” Jimmy scratched behind his ear, “give any more thought to that date?”

Geesh. Not a lot of thinking time here…

“I did,” you replied. “I think… My answer is yes. I'll go out with you.” You felt a pang of regret in your stomach, but you wanted a connection, and you just weren't getting that from Joel, despite what you wanted to think from last night.

Jimmy grinned. “Really?” He picked up your hand, holding it in his. “That's great. I know you have patrol today, but maybe Friday? I'll meet you at your house at 6?” 

“Sure,” you gave a small fake smile. “Sounds great.” He still held your hand, warm and soft and nothing like the rugged, large, callused hands of hard-working Joel. Although Joel has never held your hand, the times he's touched your arms, or held you up on your walk from the bar, he left a trail of goosebumps and butterflies in his wake, despite being warm to the touch.

Jimmy went to kiss your hand, just as Joel walked up. “What’s goin’ on here, huh?” He asked, seeming almost… angry, looking from Jimmy, to your connected hands, over to your face. “Joel,” Jimmy dropped your hand, giving Joel a curt nod.

“Jimmy..” Joel replied, teeth clenched. 

“I'll see you Friday,” Jimmy smiled at you, touching your shoulder before walking away.

“What did that little asshole want?” Joel growled.

“Geez Joel, chill out. What's your problem? I'm not allowed to talk to people?” You crossed your arms.

“I toldja last night. I don't trust that kid. Too busy sleepin’ around with the whole town. What's he talkin’ to you for?” Joel furrowed his brow, looking over at Jimmy across the room, now talking to some of the other patrolmen.

“Gosh Joel.. seriously what is wrong with you? First of all, he's hardly a kid. He's at least in his thirties. Second of all, everyone he's been with, I'm sure has been consensual, otherwise Tommy would have kicked him out of the town. And lastly, but probably more important. What do you mean “what is he talking to you for?” You mocked in a deep voice. “Like I'm the only option he has left? Like I'm not deserving of a man talking to me? Not that it’s any of your business, friend, but for your information, Jimmy is taking me on a date on Friday. So fuck off, Joel.” You started to stomp away angrily, grabbing your pack off the desk.

“The fuck he is,” Joel muttered under his breath, so quiet you didn't hear and grabbing his pack as well.

_____

Five hours. Five hours of riding in complete silence, checking out abandoned buildings in complete silence, and taking breaks in complete silence. Even your first patrol wasn't this quiet, and you couldn't help but feel like he was somehow angry at you.

As irritated as you were with him, not talking to him somehow felt worse. This wasn't like him. Is this the grumpy side everyone talks about? Is this Joel, the asshole you have yet to meet?

Feeling confused, your eyes started to cloud, slightly teary with anger and sadness, yet also a bit of dread at going out with Jimmy. You blinked your eyes, sorting through the abandoned drug store you and Joel were in.

Finding some condoms on a shelf, you threw them in your pack. “What're you doin’?” Joel asked. “Those can't be sold, didn't you pay attention to Tommy? They're rarely effective this old.”

“Yes I paid attention, Joel. I know they can't be sold. They're for me. I figured it's better than nothing,” you replied bitterly. “I have a date in a couple days, I want to be prepared,” you scowled. Joel’s jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything, instead turning to look the other direction of the aisle.

Crouched down to search the bottom shelf for other items, Joel was still turned away from you, keeping lookout on the other end of the aisle. 

You didn't even hear the stalker leap around the corner from the shadows and pounce on you. It opened its mouth, fungal strands spreading from its mouth towards your face. Pure fear pulsed through your veins.

“Joel!!!!!” You cried out, using all your strength to try and push the infected off of your body, but it was too strong. 

You screamed and kicked, struggling to break free, when Joel fired his shotgun, shooting the enemy in the head and immediately running over to you. Throwing the infected off of your body as if it was weightless, Joel scooped you into his arms. His lips moved but you heard nothing. Your ears rang, high pitched squeals from adrenaline, fear, shock, and the bang of the shotgun.

Joel pawed over your body, roughly inspecting you for bites and wounds in a frenzy. When he didn't find any, he held you in his arms again. “It's okay baby, it's okay. You're alright sweetheart. Come back to me, it's okay. You're okay.” Your hearing must have returned. He rocked you, tears welling from your eyes and his. “You're okay. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.” He kissed your ear and the side of your head, still rocking you in a hug, sitting on the floor, inches from the now-dead infected. The two of you needed to get out of here, but neither of you could move yet.

Finally you spoke. “Why are you sorry Joel?” You asked with a sniffle. You wrapped your arm around his back, the other hand finding the back of his head, gripping his curls gently.

“I'm sorry for how I've been actin’ all day. I'm sorry I didn't see that stalker before he attacked. I'm sorry for being so possessive earlier. I'm sorry,” he held you tighter.

You pulled back to look into his eyes. “Joel, you couldn't have heard or seen that stalker. That's what they do best. You saved me and that's all that matters. As for earlier, you were being an asshole, and it did really hurt my feelings. All this time people have said you're such a jerk, and I didn't see it,” you pulled away from his grip, “but today I did.” You looked at your lap. “Don't I deserve to go on a date? Don't I deserve to have someone love me?” You picked at the hem of your pants, avoiding his eye contact.

“Oh, darlin', I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to feel that way. I just - you deserve something real, not a hookup like that guy wants. I know his type. He'll sleep with you and toss you aside. You deserve to be treated like a lady.”

You snorted. “Yeah, Joel. That's how things are nowadays, too. Gentleman just waiting to sweep me off my feet. Shit, you literally just saved me from near-death, something that happens all the time today, and yet you're saying I deserve love? To find romance? Yeah, right.”

Joel didn't say anything. He just looked into your eyes, lips pursed and moving to the side in thought. His eyes drifted to your lips and back up to your sight.

You continued. “I don't even like Jimmy,” you said quietly. “I like someone else, but I just got tired of waiting and wanted some kind of connection. Even if it's just a night in bed.” At the last part of your sentence, Joel grimaced, almost in pain. And then he thought.

“Wait,” he sat back a little, scanning your face. “Who do you like?” 

You gulped. Why not a little more adrenaline? “Well, it was you, until you started acting like an asshole. But I realized you probably didn't feel the same way a while ago. Especially after I practically threw myself at you last night.”

“Threw yourself at me last night? What are you talkin’ about? You were drunk,” Joel answered.

“I wasn't that drunk, Joel. My movements were pretty planned. The placement of my touches on your body. My ass angled up in your direction. I wanted you,” you added, pointedly.

Joel looked like he was solving a complicated math problem. “So you… last night when you… I heard you, in bed, pleasurin’ yourself. Were you… thinking about me?”

You looked up at him in shock and panic. “You heard me?” You asked in a frantic whisper.

“Yeah, I uh… I did. I got up to get a towel and heard your uh… sounds” he cleared his throat.

“I guess I should tell you then that I heard you too,” you said with a smirk.

Joel swallowed, hard. “Y-ya heard me?”

“Yep” you replied, popping your lips on the p sound.

Joel had nothing to lose at this point. “I was thinking about you,” he proclaimed. “Thinkin’ bout that wet spot on your panties when you flashed your ass in the air. Wishin’ I was buried inside you.” He ran his hand across your thigh.

Your breathing picked up. “I was thinking about you too. Wishing you'd bust through that door and take me in your bed, running my nails down your back as we came together…” you mimicked the motion with your fingers down his jacket-clad back.

“Fuck,” he hissed, eyes closing. You glanced down at the noticeable bulge in his jeans. “I like you too, I just never thought you felt the same. Y’never seemed to pick up on any of my sweet talkin’ or my names for ya.”

“I just figured you were being nice,” you replied, glancing back into his eyes.

“You should know by now, I'm only nice to you,” he growled. “I'm sorry I ruined that today,” he glanced at your mouth, licking his lips. “Was just jealous. Want you all for myself,” he stroked your thigh again.

You sighed at the feeling, pulling him by his collar to kiss him deeply. The kiss was frantic and rough, both of you trying to get as much of each other as possible, a year of build-up boiling at the surface. Teeth clashed and tongues danced and you pulled each other closer, grasping at clothes and skin. 

The two of you broke the kiss, needing a gasp of air. You started to take off your shirt when Joel stopped you. “Whoa, darlin'. I want you just as bad, but not here,” he gestured to the old building. “It's dangerous, not to mention gross in here. I wasn't kidding when I said you deserve romance,” he stood, pulling you to your feet. “We're about a 20 minute ride from base, let's head home. Make your fantasy of fuckin’ in my bed come true,” he winked, giving a smack to your ass. 

_____

The 20 minute ride felt never-ending as you both stole glances at each other, your panties still wet with arousal, and him still sporting the tent in his pants, which was hard to miss. 

Finally making it back to the stables, you both quickly undressed the horses and put gear away, about to head out of the barn when Jimmy and his partner rode up. “Hey, babe,” he called to you. It sounded wrong from his mouth. Joel tensed at your side.

Dismounting his horse, Jimmy strolled over to you. “Hey Jimmy, I was thinking. I don't think I want to go on that date after all. I'm sorry, I just don't feel the same way.”

“What?” Jimmy asked in disbelief.

“I know, I'm sorry if I hurt you. I- I like someone else. I just didn't think they felt the same way,” you replied sheepishly.

“Fuck you,” he spat.

“What?” You were in disbelief.

“Fuck you, bitch. One of the few women in this town who won't fuckin’ put out. I was even gonna take you on some shitty date before I got you into bed, and now you make a fool of me? Nah, I don't think so,” he stalked towards you angrily. 

You stepped back, worried what he might do, but Joel stepped in first, nailing a punch at Jimmy's nose. “Don't you dare talk to her like that,” Joel yelled.

Tommy came running in, hearing the commotion. After hearing what happened, it was decided that Jimmy wouldn't be welcome in this town any longer.

Satisfied, you grabbed Joel's hand. “Why don't I show you who I really belong to?” You looked up at him, biting your lip.

“Lead the way, baby.” He pushed you forward, smacking your ass.

The two of you stumbled into his house, kissing with little regard for objects. Luckily, Ellie was still at a friend's house. The door slammed closed and you kissed furiously, undressing as you walked. Finally you reached his bedroom and fell onto the bed, where he made all your fantasies of the night prior come true. The two of you enjoyed the taste of each other's mouths, kissing and licking, while he pounded into you, leaving you breathless and screaming his name as you both came.

“That was even better than I imagined,” you sighed, rolling over onto his chest.

“That's my girl,” he cooed, kissing your head and rubbing your back.

“Mine,” he whispered.

[shellshocklove]

interlude: does anyone know where the love of god goes? | joel miller

pairing/AU: joel miller x female!reader – post breakout & no ellie AU

summary: a dark shadow lurks in the woods, searching for his angel.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni!!! canon-typical violence, age gap (reader is mid to late twenties), dark content, swearing, guns, some tags are left out to avoid spoilers, no use of y/n

a/n: the plan for this series was always three parts, but then i got this small idea for an interlude that i really wanted to include so here it is <3 this is a little different but i hope it's enjoyable still! happy reading <3

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3 / playlist

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

The snow moaned with each step he took. The muscles in his shoulders ached from the strap of his gun where it gnawed, and his arms were tired from carrying it around all day. On top of that he was cold. His fingers felt like icicles wrapped around the trigger.

Why was it always so fucking cold, Adam wondered.

The woods had started to grow dark around him as a crow played hide and seek between the trees. It had followed him all day. Back and forth he’d walked – on lookout, always ready. For what, he didn’t know, they hadn’t seen anything or anyone since they came upon the cabin.

How he wished to be back there right now. Back in the warmth with a warm meal in his belly.

He looked to the sky with disinterest. Over the treetops twilight deepened into a deep purple, like the color of an old bruise faded to black.

Nothing. No one.

The wind moved and cut right through him, down to the bone, and Adam started to wonder about when the last time he’d felt truly warm had been. The fire, maybe? When the curtains caught fire, it hadn’t taken long before the whole house was aflame.

Something deep inside him shrunk each time he recalled that day. Jonah had barked his hoarse voice at him. Orders, orders, orders. Do this, kill them, kill them all, and take what’s of value.

It had started to get old long before that night, and Adam couldn’t find a reason for why he followed the guys and Jonah anymore. The constant traveling was harsh and hard, especially in winter, with no place to settle for longer than a week at a time, killing and raiding whatever and whoever they came across. Maybe in the beginning it had been worth it, back all those years ago when Adam had felt like he’d had something to prove, something to prove to Jonah, to show his potential, a potential to lead.

But no, it had been years and Adam was always stuck on fucking scout duty. He hated scout duty.

He hated Jonah, too.

Adam wondered what he’d done to that girl. That bitch deserved to get put in her place, that’s for sure– she’d almost given him a speed ticket to hell if she’d been a good shot. She’d ran down the stairs while waving a loaded revolver around, sent most of the rounds into the walls. Somehow, he’d managed to grab ahold of the old woman, used her as leverage with his gun pointed to her temple. The bitch had gone dead silent, and Adam had known he had a clean shot had it not been for the old man. He’d been stronger than he’d looked, attacking Barkley, and giving Adam no other choice than to shoot the old woman. Adam could still feel the spray of her warm blood against his face.

Everything after that happened so fast. Adam couldn’t get a clean shot on the old man, and the girl had gone all crazy, shooting bullet after bullet into the floor, and now Barkley’s leg most likely had to be amputated.

If the wound doesn’t get you, the fucking infection will.

The bullets had drawn the rest of the crew to the living room, and soon both the girl and the man had been pressed against the floor with their hands tied behind their backs. Adam don’t know what happened next, too busy raiding the rest of the house for valuables, but somehow Jonah had decided to take the girl with them while they’d left the man for dead in the snow.  

Adam felt a shiver run through him at the memories while the wind howled like a hound in his ear.

He should get back.

Wading through the snow, Adam dreamt of summer. His hand around his gun slackened in his grip while he filled his head with thoughts from before. Of long days at the public pool during summer break, the smell of a barbeque and freshly cut grass, of his mother waiting for him on the porch after a long day of running around the neighborhood with supper ready.

In his daydreaming, Adam failed to notice the shadow trailing him, how it kept to the darkness of the forest.

No mother stood ready for him on the porch of the cabin, only Jack on guard duty tonight. He looked as bored as Adam had felt in the forest.

“Did you see anything?” Jack asked as Adam approached him.

“Nah,” Adam shook his head as he walked past Jack up the porch stairs. “I’ll let Jonah know I’m back.”

“He’s with the girl,” Jack told him, “said he didn’t want to be disturbed.”

Adam felt a frown form across his face. Jonah with the girl? Jonah might be a hard son of a bitch, but he’d never laid a hand on a woman for as long as Adam had been a part of the crew. Not that the opportunity hadn’t presented itself… multiple times. Spoils of the raids Adam had taken advantage of time and time again. A man gets tired of his own hand after a while, and nothing beats a tight cunt. At first, Adam had thought Jonah didn’t swing that way, but nothing stays sacred for long in a crew like this, and one night Barkley had told him about Jonah’s wife, and how she’d died. Jonah killed and plundered, set fire to the world, but would never take a woman again as long as it was not his wife. Adam guessed that some things remained sacred, even after death.

A wall of warmth hit Adam as he stepped inside the cabin. The room was stuffy from the heat of the fire and men, and he could already feel drops of sweat bead on his forehead. The men paid him no mind, their chatter loud and obnoxious where they huddled together over bowls of food.

His stomach growled at the sighed, and he quickly served himself a bowl of brown mush simmering away over the flames. Looking down at his bowl, Adam knew he’d kill for something else to eat, something that wasn’t this fucking diarrhea-looking slop.

Looking over at the men where they sat, Adam mulled it over and shook his head He wasn’t in the mood for whatever ‘jokes’ they had for him today. Quietly, he grabbed another bowl of brown and walked down the hall. Curiosity grabbed a hold of him when he passed the door where Jonah kept the girl locked away. The two bowls shook in his hands as he pressed his ear to the door as he held his breath, listening.

He heard a muffled voice, deep, Jonah’s. Adam couldn’t catch the words being spoken behind the door, but he never heard the girl reply. She hadn’t said a word since they dragged her away with them. She’d kicked and screamed, spat out words of ‘how they’d regret this’ and ‘how they’d soon be dead if they didn’t let her go,’ but the fight in her had died out quickly. Adam wished Jonah would put a bullet in her already. She’d shot Barkley– she needed to pay for it, he thought.

The room smelled sweetly of disease. Adam wanted to crack open the window, but Barkley had begged him not to the last time he’d attempted it. He crept closer to the bed where his friend was sleeping, his dark hair sticking wetly to his forehead from sweat.

The infection had taken him now, Adam thought as he sat the bowl on the bed side table. They should take the leg, but he knew they wouldn’t; Barkley was already dead. Adam shook his friend’s shoulder, but he wouldn’t wake, only mumbled words Adam couldn’t understand – the ramblings of fever dreams.

With a sigh, Adam sat down in the chair in the corner. He’d slept in the chair since they found the cabin, watching over Barkley. The guys had teased him about it, but he’d rather sit in a room stuffed in the rot of disease, than pretend to like any of the guys. He let his eyes wander over Barkley as he ate his food.

His friend was dying. His only friend soon to be dead. What would be the point anymore when he’s not there anymore?

He hated everyone else. The praise and promotion he’d expected from Jonah, would never come. Maybe he should just slip out in the night, go about the land himself, find someplace to settle, leave this all behind.

Adam scraped the bowl and sighed. It was a foolish thought. He knew Jonah would come after him. He didn’t tolerate deserters much. You either followed him or swallowed down a bullet.

He had no choice; it was scout duty for Adam.

The snow moaned with each step he took, and the sun failed to make sense. The trees had been eerily silent today, something different in the endless wilderness. Adam moved about his route, back and forth, back and forth. He couldn’t put his finger on it but all day, it was like he was being watched. He’d watched his six, gone off his usual path, went a little deeper than he used to, but Adam had seen nothing but white snow-covered trees.

He waded back the way he’d came as a nervousness ran through him, bubbling under his skin. His grip around his gun tightened and he couldn’t fight the urge to check it again. A heat flushed his cheeks when he saw it was still loaded and ready, just like it had been ten minutes ago.

He was losing it.

Shaking his head, Adam tried to keep himself steady with calming breaths.

In… One… Two… Three… Out… One… Two… Three.

Over him he heard a branch snap, and his heart stopped. His arms worked on instinct, aiming his gun at the sky. An owl flew overhead, cooing in the silence of the forest, and Adam’s hands fell to his side.

A small breathy laugh escaped him. What was wrong with him today?

He continued on his path, kicking snow with each step. The snow had soaked through the cuffs of his jeans, but he’d stopped caring long ago. Then the wind moved, it cut right through him, making the trees rustle like living things. Adam looked up again, catching a glimpse of the sun through the trees as the world slowly darkened around him.

Then, a warm hand clamped over his mouth. He had no time to react before he felt the barrel of a gun against his back.

“Drop the gun,” a gruff voice ordered in his ear, full of authority.

When Adam didn’t move, the gun pressed harder into his back, the metal burning against his spine. If his mouth wasn’t covered he’d probably let out a whine.

“Drop. The. Gun,” the voice repeated, and Adam felt his gun slip from his fingers. He made no move to resist when the man grabbed his hands and twisted them behind his back.

He thought about Barkley, and Jonah, and the men. What did he have to fight for?

Around him the world darkened, it was like the forest came alive, the quietness blooming with sounds. A crow cawing somewhere, and then accompanied by another. The shadows had turned strange, small half-mooned shapes making patterns in the snow.

The man pushed him up against a tree as he tied his hands. The rope he used was thick– no, not rope, it couldn’t be. Adam twisted his hands, fingers dancing along the material. A belt. The man had used his belt to tie him up.

He could just run, wrangle his hands from the man’s grip and run. Adam looked past the tree, gauging his chances through the thick snow–

Bang.

Fuck.

Adam fell to his knees.

Motherfucker.

Blood bubbled in his ears. Blood stained the snow in crimson, pooling out of his left leg. The pain burned and Adam couldn’t figure out where he’d been shot, it was like it could’ve been anywhere in the growing red staining his jeans.

The man grabbed a hold of him, twisting him around and pressed him to the tree trunk. Adam cried out in pain, he couldn’t hold it back, the pulsing in his leg too strong – it beamed up his thigh. The back of his head slammed against the bark, and Adam was forced to look at him.

“Where is she?” the man asked in a calm voice.

Older. Brown hair. Brown eyes. A patchy beard with streaks of grey. He was larger than Adam. Maybe he’d been able to run from him, if he’d not been shot.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Adam tried to calm himself. “Who?” he tried and earned himself a sucker punch – his jaw aching and blood filling up his nostrils.

The man shook his head, “Wrong answer. Where is she?” The void in the man’s eyes made a chill run through Adam; or maybe it was the snow, or the blood pooling out of him.

The man’s grip in his hair tightened as he slammed Adam’s head into the tree bark. The world spun before him, dark as it twisted it into something strange.

Fuck, he was about to die.

“S-she’s alive,” he tried, his voice not louder than a whisper.

“Where?”

Adam sucked in a breath, tried to focus on keeping his eyes open. A clanging sound filled his ears before metal glinted in the strange light. He couldn’t hold back his scream when he felt the knife in his gut.

“Ah! Fuck! Fuck!” he cried, “The cabin– the cabin.”

Over him the man towered and his grip in his hair tightened even more.

“WHAT CABIN!?” he screamed.

Adam clung to life with both hands. The man before him turned into two, and he couldn’t figure out where it hurt the most.

“H-hunting cabin… a-a f-fifteen-minute walk t-that way.” Adam tilted his head in the direction, as much movement he could manage through the grip of his hair.

The man let go of him, and his head fell back against the bark. The world was suddenly brighter again – or was he walking towards the bright light he’d heard so much about?

“S-she’s alive– I-I swear,” he whispered.

“It’s okay…” the man nodded, his voice laced with pity as he stood before him, a giant shadow against the brightening day, arm raised and blade glinting in his hand. “I believe you.”

i hope someone liked this? i'm very curious about what your thoughts for the last part will be, so if you have them please leave a comment, reply or an ask. they are always super welcomed, and they make me super happy <3 other than that, thank you for reading!!

next part -> here!

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[astralnymphh]

okay likeeee mom!ellie playing with the kid at the park or something and it’s just SOOO CUTE😭😭😭😭😭🙊🙊🙊

mom!ellie certainly has a chosen tote bag that has everything her child could ever need— it's slightly worn at the straps and probably has a hole struck through the bottom corner, but it's got charm! packs snacks, devices, stuffed animals, and other various styles of toys to show off. ellie wants her kid to be the coolest and most fun to be around, so she obviously brings some kind of mini drone— that she ends up fiddling with herself and accidently flings it into the nearest bough. and once that idea fails, due to her own shenanigans, she'll just cede her handy bag and belongings to you for the hour, "gonna go join 'em, since i brought my skateboard. love you babe, don't feed the pigeons without me— mwah." pecks you on the forehead and gives your shoulder the old reassuring pat–pat prior to her ass darting towards the main playset and maneuvering through the labyrinth that is playground construction. her converse screech on the tongue of a slide as she (unlawfully) climbs up to go and pursue her kid, only to get told off by some rule–abiding kid, or a literal supervisor, "shit, my bad! just trynna' find my kid! uh— ignore me!" and once she does find them, ushering them over to the outskirts of the woodchip filled area, she'd mess around on her skateboard (totally not to impress her kids' friends) pulling out the neatest tricks in the book before getting a tad too cocky and tripping over herself, button of her nose meeting the hard, rough edge of the curb. "fuck! ugh, shit— n't again— nope nope, you didn't hear that! i did not swear!" scrambles to get up; pushes onto her knees and notices the blotches of crimson freshly drawn upon the slate gray stone, dabbing the hem of her hoodie sleeve in without thinking. park day— without fail, routinely concludes in ellie trudging hand–in–hand with your kid, her dismantled drone, perfectly in–tact skateboard, and a nosebleed, which you selflessly oblige to clean up later, her head nestled in your lap as you dab a balled up tissue along the bridges of her nostrils, those dumb, out–of–it eyes blinking repetitively, rolling around the ceiling bounds, staring up at you, mumbling somethings along the possible translations of, "that was a good day, i think. y'know, next time you shouldn't—" points her finger up at you, "let me on that playset. could end up with a sprained ankle, and you'll have to carry me to bed.. how bad would that be? eh, actually, that sounds kinda—", "ellie. don't sprain your ankle, please."

DAILY CLICK . IMPORTANT TLOU POST . PALESTINE INFO

nosebleed in question:

[olive-fics]

Abby Anderson comforting you on your period *giggles and twirls hair*

VERY SMALL NSFW JOKE AT END NOT PROOF READ IM SLEEPY!

-Simple Abby headcannons and how she would comfort you on your period. Fluff

-Mention of blood ofc don't act surprised.

For the girls and the gays, Men DNI !!!!!!! (Please)

-Abby is the type of girl to come over at any given time of the day just because you texted her you feel sick from your period. "Abby,My cramps hurt so bad-” “On my way princess.” anything. JHFDJKGHNDF.

-Abby would tell you a time she’d be there and end up late, why? Because she was looking for one of her hoodies you enjoy so much and she was at the local Walgreen’s picking up your favorite snacks, drinks, tylenol (cramp relief meds), pajamas or a throw blanket for you. (Walgreens is a drugstore btw!)

-Comforting Abby would let you sit on her lap, lay on her, anything. She wanted you to be comfy.

-Abby could handle blood unlike many who find it gross. Abby thought that was ignorant and rude and she wants you to always be comfy around her. She adored you. <3

-As much as Abby always gives you her full attention, she always makes sure to give you more attention when aching like this. She knows how needy or clingy you can get, Abby would shower you with kisses, hugs, and sometimes gifts.

-Omfg I feel like Abby would give the best like back rubs or scalp massages with her muscular fingers. Abby wouldn’t stop after like 5 min either with the lame excuse of like “My hands are tired..” She would keep going until you either fell asleep or told her enough.

-Abby would carry you literally everywhere, bathroom, Bedroom, Kitchen too if you didn't already make Abby get you everything.

-Abby didn’t mind your mood swings if you even got them around her, she would take them calmly, never yell back and always let you come back when you’re ready. (Idk if that makes sense but like she’s giving u time and that’s hot LOL)

-Back to the Abby not minding the blood, If you mentioned any concern about bleeding on her or in her bed she would shush you so fast. “shh..Shh..Shhh..I don’t care My love.” or something sappy to make you giggle.

-Abby knew your attention span on your period was VERY limited so to keep you happy Abby always brought her Nintendo switch to play Mario kart. (duh.) every time you and Abby played Mario Kart it was like sports to you two. Abby normally picks Dry bones or Bowser.. But guess who also did? You. It was like a damn race alone to just see who could pick it first. Of course you both could be the same character but you liked to see the different characters plastered across the screen. In desperate times like this though? Abby would always ‘accidentally’ miss-click so you could always win and get the character you wanted, Abby just loved to see you laugh at her.

-Yk how Abby said she would do anything for you? She meant literally any type of relief to ease your pain.. even if that meant-🧛

My friend gave me this idea and it made me think..so..

Reblogs are appreciated!

I have anonymous requests in my bio! Send me SFW. requests! Head-cannons on TLOU characters or smth idk LOL.

Okay Drink water girls. <3

[dancingtotuyo]

11. up from the dust, inconceivable love

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Ellie learns the truth. Your family gains a member.

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: pregnancy related things, angst, hurt & comfort and no comfort?, self worth issues, canon violence, anger, child birth, spoilers for TLOU 2 (we’re entering the timeline that starts to burrow things for part 2 of the game)

Notes: huge thank you to my constants, my rocks @ramblers-lets-get-ramblinand @janaispunk for beta reading and letting me yell and scream and break their hearts.

If you have checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader! The final part is out now!

Words: 5352

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

“What do you think of Peace?” You ask, propped up in bed, hand over your swollen stomach. You’ve gained more weight this time, probably because you’re not in the throes of grief. 

“I mean, I’m a fan. I hope everyone is.” Joel says, trimming his facial hair with the bathroom door wide open. 

You bite your lip, admiring the expanse of his bare back. If getting out of bed wasn’t an event, you would be behind him right now, kissing his shoulders. 

“No, as a name for a girl,” you say. Joel turns around looking at you like he’s contemplating checking you into a psychiatric ward if those still existed. “A middle name, not a first name.” 

Joel sets his trimmers down, leaning in the doorway shirtless. “And what would her first name be?” 

“Willow.”

Joel furrows his brow stepping into your bedroom, your shared bedroom. “Darlin, I know we live in a commune, but we’re not hippies.”

“You bring me wildflowers and we walk barefoot through the fields. I wouldn’t be so sure.” You can’t help but laugh. Joel cracks a smile. “Do you have suggestions then?”

“Thought about naming Sarah- Katherine.”

You make a face. You know one too many Kates and Katies even in Jackson.

“It’s not a bad name,” Joel chuckles. 

“Neither is Willow.”

“Is this your way of telling me you’re a hippie?”

“Would you leave if I said yes?”

Joel shrugs “I don’t know, but I knocked you up so I guess I have to stay.” He crawls into the bed. His head is level with your stomach as he watches for movement. 

You roll your eyes. “How romantic.”

He grins up at you and then his eyes are back on your belly. He rests a hand at the top, staring, waiting in wonderment. Neither of you can believe this is all real. Your baby moves around all the time, kicking your bladder and lungs, signifying life. A life you did not think would make it. 

You thread your fingers through Joel’s soft brown hair. The outline of a foot appears and then disappears. Joel’s eyes sparkle and he kisses the same spot. He’s soft and gentle. In these moments, all your anxieties are carried away like leaves on an autumn breeze. This is your peace. 

“What other names did you have picked out for Carter?”

You bite your lip. “We didn’t have any other boys' names.”

“And if he’d been a girl?” He’s still enthralled with your stomach as if there’s been an enchantment cast over it. 

“Sarah.”

His head snaps up. 

“Tommy and I talked about her a lot when I was pregnant. She was on my mind… being a part of Sarah’s life made me realize I wanted a family… even in this world where I had no right to do so.”

You keep playing with his hair. His eyes go glassy making you wonder what memory is playing behind his eyes. You stay like that until Joel is ready to talk. Eventually, he sits up, clearing his throat. His lips touch yours. 

“What about Willa?”

You tilt your head to the side. You don’t really see how it’s any different than Willow, but you’re not going to bring that up. “I like it.” 

“And Miles for a boy.” His smile returns. He doesn’t tell you that he’s positive you’re having a girl.

“Miles is an old man's name!”

“Good, then he’ll grow to be an old man.”

You take in a sharp breath. It’s just an offhand comment, but it carries so much weight. It’s a stark reminder of the heaviness of the world, and the twinge of guilt you feel bringing another child into it. 

Joel takes your hand, kissing your palm. You see it in his eyes too. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’tve-”

“It’s okay.” Your fingers comb through his hair. He leans into your touch. His grays are more noticeable than they were a year ago, but the brown still outnumbers them. 

“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” he asks.

“I don’t know… I- I haven’t really let myself think about it until today.” It's true. The fact of the matter is you’re within a month of your due date. You and Joel are so close to welcoming this baby into the world and are wildly unprepared. 

“We’re getting close… We need a crib.” 

“The one I used for Carter is in the attic.”

“I can bring it down in the morning.”

“I need to get some baby clothes. I traded all of Carter’s.” 

“Looks like we have a bunch of work to do, Mama,” Joel smiles, kissing your forehead. He still hasn't told you about the swaddles and onesies tucked in the back of his drawer, but it seems you’re finally ready for them.

You cock your head to the side, contemplating the nickname. There’s a mix of emotions with it. You’re already a mother. Joel is a father, but this is a life you’re bringing in together. It’s uncharted territory for both of you. Sarah’s mom was out the door before she was six months old. Neither of you have done this part with a partner before. 

A sharp knock on the front door pulls your mind from its wandering. Joel’s brow furrows, rolling out of the bed. People don’t knock on your door often. They usually barrel right in, unless it’s bad. Your stomach drops. 

Joel is out of the bedroom, shrugging on a shirt. Dina’s voice calls through your home. “Hello?” She sounds worried, desperate. 

You swing your legs over the side of the bed. It takes more time to stand these days. If you try too quickly, your head rushes making you feel dizzy. 

“Dina? What’s wrong?” Joel’s at the bottom of the stairs now, but his voice carries. You have to stop at the top of the stairs to catch your breath. 

“Ellie is gone.”

You freeze, grabbing the railing for stability. “What?”

Joel turns around, worry etched in his face. “Where did she go?”

“I don’t know. She mentioned something about the Fireflies and a hospital, but she wouldn’t talk to me.” You make out the flicker of hurt in Dina’s face. Those two tell each other everything, or most things. You’re not sure Ellie has told her about her immunity. You all keep that one pretty close to your chests. 

“Shit,” Joel mumbles. He glances between you at his back and the front door in front of him. You see the push and pull. He needs to go after her. He needs to be here for you. 

His eyes settle on you. Your hand settles on top of your swollen belly. He’s looking for permission. You want to give it, but what if he’s needed here before he gets back. 

“She’s been off lately. I don’t know why. She won’t talk to me.” Dina seems to sense the silent conversation going on. “I can go after her, but-“

“No, I need to go.” Joel swings back toward the teenager, both hands placed on his hips. You try to bite back the panic rising inside you. He’ll be fine. They’ll both be fine. “Do you know when she left?”

“Probably sometime before the sun came up. Shimmer isn’t in the stable.” 

Joel lets out a ragged sigh, hands running over his face. You try to keep the tears away, your hormones making it difficult. 

“Will you let Maria know I’m going after her? I need to pack.” 

Dina nods, her eyes flickering up to you before she’s gone in a flash of dark curls. Joel turns around, hand resting on the banister at the bottom of the stairs. You swallow and walk back into the bedroom. 

It’s silent at first, nothing but the sounds of draws opening and closing and the soft slaps of his leather saddle bags. You sit in silence at the edge of your bed, chewing on your lip as you watch him. Ellie needs him. It echoes on repeat in your brain. 

“I can probably catch her. We’ll be back in two weeks if I don’t.”

You stare down at your ever growing belly. You could easily be pregnant when he returns, but what if you’re not? You’re fairly certain you’ll have this baby sooner rather than later, but Ellie needs him too.

“Why does she want to go back to Salt Lake?”

Joel freezes for a second, like he’s contemplating his answer. It sets an uneasy feeling in your bones. “I don’t know. Maybe she thinks some of the Fireflies are still there? That this whole cure business is still an option?”

You nod, thoughts drifting to her face when you looked at her blood a couple months ago. She looked desperate. You hadn’t seen her like that before. It was almost unnerving, like the need to be needed by humanity had returned tenfold. It made you wonder if you’d been there for her enough these past few months.

“I have to go after her.”

There’s a desperation you don’t quite recognize in Joel’s eyes, sending a thread of dread through your body. Is he leaving something out? Not telling you something? You nod, biting your lip. “I know.”

He lays his hand on your bump, fingers stretching out over it. “We’ve got time.”

You nod. “Hurry back, and be safe, okay?”

Joel kisses your forehead. “Always.”

He rides out thirty minutes later. 

You try to stay busy while they’re gone, cleaning the clinic and the house thrice over as the nesting and anxiety sets in. You ask Tommy to get the crib out of the attic as you prep the corner of your bedroom for the baby, wiping it free from the dust and cobwebs. 

Maria hosts a small get together for you pulling together some semblance of a baby shower, something you hadn’t had with Carter. It's nice, but you feel like they skirt around the questions nagging in their brains. Where did Ellie and Joel go? Will they be back in time? You don’t have answers. You have the same fucking question. Will they be back? 

The braxton hicks kick up, so much so you think you’re in labor ten days after Joel rides out. The fear that courses through your body is so paralyzing that you just lay in bed. Your body tenses with the memory’s of Carter’s labor. It’s not the physical pain of it, but the emotional rollercoaster you went through, alone. You’re not supposed to do this alone this time.  

Then, the contractions stop with no explanation and you fall into a restless sleep. You miss Joel, his warmth and comfort. His unspoken love that fills the room. You’re becoming more comfortable with the idea of it. 

You miss Ellie too, worried about what she’s going through. Providing it’s still vacant, Salt Lake won’t hold any answer for her. What lengths will she go to? How many miles will she travel in search of answers you believe don’t exist? How will she handle reality? 

You see the differences in Carter too. In his mind, Ellie and Joel have always been here. Two weeks without them feels like a lifetime to him, and to you. 

On day twelve, your front door flies open as you come down the stairs. Ellie bursts through looking frantic and frazzled. Her short cropped hair sticks up in certain places. Dirt smudges her forehead. You’re too relieved to see her to worry about her appearance. If anything, it’s expected after two weeks of travel, but your relief is short lived. 

“Did you know?” She yells. The door stays wide open behind her, rage flaming in her eyes. 

“What?” 

“Did you know?”

“Know what?” You step toward her, reaching out, but she backs away like a wild animal.

“He killed them! All of them!” 

“Killed who? Ellie, take a deep breath.”

“Joel! He killed the fireflies! They had a cure!”

Your breath catches. It’s not that Joel has killed people. You know about the years he spent as a raider. You know the cost of surviving in this world, but this isn’t the story you have been told about Salt Lake. When you asked him why she would go back, he lied. He knew. Knew the story hadn’t lined up in Ellie’s mind. 

“So he lied to you too!”

“Ellie!” Joel is stern as his frame fills your doorway. 

She spins around, the week of silence she spent next to him on the road back, wrath bubbling over and focused on him. “Tell her! Tell her, Joel!” She steps toward him. “Tell her what you did!” She shoves against his shoulders. 

“Ellie…” He repeats her name, softer this time. 

“Don’t do that!” She turns back to you, tears streaming down her cheeks. “They were going to make a cure from me, and you stopped them! You slaughtered them!”

“They were going to kill you!”

Your eyes widen, and it makes sense. Why Joel hasn’t talked about it. Why he needed to go after her. Why Ellie feels so useless. She’d been promised the cure. He’d taken that from her with a facade of an excuse.

“You should have let them!” Ellie screams until she pushes past him, rushing out of your house. 

Joel lets out a sigh, defeat evident across his features. You can’t even enjoy their homecoming, their safety, your head spinning too much. 

Joel shuts the door behind him, stepping closer like he’s expecting an embrace, but you step back, a mother’s anger building in your bones. He looks surprised. “Sweetheart…”

“You lied to her.”

“I protected her.” Joel’s eyes narrow. He’s tired and irritable. Neither of you expected a fight to ensue the moment he got home. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“You’ve watched her struggle with this for years!” 

“They were going to kill her!”

“Have you listened to anything she’s said?” 

You almost don’t recognize the Joel in front of you. He looks like a shell of the assured, warm man you know. You wonder if this is the version of Joel Tommy used to speak of. The one Joel has told you about during those late night chats when you spilled the depths of yourselves to each other, or you thought you had. The one who floated through his days, barely living. 

“I couldn’t lose her!” 

“Except you did!”

Joel straightens, shoulders setting in denial. “She’s alive! That’s what matters.”

“You’re missing the point!”

“You’re saying I should have let them go ahead with it! Let them cut open her head for a cure you don’t believe is possible!” 

Fire blazes in Joel's eyes. You see it. There’s no rationalizing with him about this. In his eyes, there were no choices to be made. He did the only thing. It doesn’t matter what else he has to sacrifice, she’s alive and that’s all that matters. “That’s not-”

He scoffs, cutting you off. You see the pain and hurt ripple through his body, causing him to step back from you. “Sure sounds like it.”

“Joel!”

“Don’t.” He yanks the front door open. “I can’t be here right now.” 

He disappears across the threshold in the blink of an eye leaving you with a mountain to process and a growing tension across your stomach.

Joel knows he’s in the wrong. He knows he shouldn’t have lied to Ellie, held the truth from you. He’s a grown man, of course he knows what’s right and wrong, but that admittance doesn’t do anything to calm him. He needs to get out. Out of the house. Out of the walls into the open. It doesn’t matter that he just came from two weeks out there. 

He sneaks over the wall with more ease than he should be able. Instantly, he feels the tightening in his chest begin to ease. He paces the outside of the wall like a caged animal, the series of events reeling through his mind. He doesn’t realize how much he’s been pushing it back since they left Salt Lake. Her words, her pleas, over and over. She’d given him every opportunity to tell her the truth and he kept the lie going. 

There was no cure. The words he’d utter to her after they found that couple, one dead the other infected while out on patrol. 

He’d almost told her, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t lose her. Couldn’t risk it.  

His pacing becomes more frantic as he remembers the fear he felt at the thought of losing Ellie, the fear that pushed him into wiping away every firefly that crossed his path. The same fear that put lies in his mouth before he had time to think, that kept him from telling her the truth. He knew this would happen one day, but hadn’t been enough. He’d kept it from everyone, including you. 

Tell me, she had pleaded with him, begged him and he still felt the pull to replace his lie with another. 

She’d had to poke and prod to get the words from his mouth. Had to threaten to leave before she got the truth. That hurt almost as much as the fallout. Everyone thought he was a better man than he actually was. Ellie, you, himself, but when it came down to it. He failed that test. Good men don’t make someone threaten to leave to get the truth. 

I’ll go back, but we’re done.

Joel wears a path in the fresh grass beneath his feet, letting the spring chill take over when the sun sets, leaving him in darkness. Ellie had kept her word. He’d never heard her stay quiet for so long. The loss had begun to settle in with her riding next to him. 

Joel’s muscles ache from two weeks out on the road. He misses you and Carter. He hasn’t even touched you yet. Will you let him? 

Getting over the wall from the outside proves more difficult than it had the first time. Which is a good thing, but had Joel feeling every one of his 59 years. Embarrassment creeps over his cheeks with each step toward your home. The one he shares with you, but he feels like a guest as he climbs the steps. He doesn’t catch a glimpse of you or Carter or anyone else through the windows. 

The house is silent when he enters, no signs of life except for the faint buzzing of light bulbs. His brow furrows. You wouldn’t have left the lights on if you weren’t home. Then a faint sound comes from upstairs, movement at the very least. He follows it, placing his hand on the closed bedroom door before cracking it open. 

Soft groans come from behind the cracked bathroom door followed by a whispered curse. Maria's voice follows. Joel’s throat drops into his stomach. His boots echo off the wood floor as he crosses the room. “Sweetheart?” he calls, staying on his side of the door. “Is everything alright?”

“Joel? Get in here,” you groan out. 

It sends some reassurance through him to hear you so clearly before he swings the door open. His eyes go wide at the sight of you in the tub, sweat staining your skin as Maria kneels next to you. “Shit, are you?”

“Make yourself useful and hold my hand.” 

He nods, kneeling beside you. Maria stands, grabbing a few instruments from the bathroom sink, she gives Joel a look that lets him know you’re near the end of labor. Your baby will be here in minutes. It sends a rush through him. “I’m sorry, Darlin.”

You grab onto his hand tightly. It’s wet from the bathwater sloshing around you as you fight to get comfortable. It’s a useless pursuit, but it doesn’t keep you from trying. “Can we do the apologizing later? I’m kinda busy at the moment.” 

“Yes,” Joel takes a deep breath, his heart pounding in his ears. He squares his shoulders next to you, giving an air of assurance you know he doesn’t have. “I’m here for whatever you need.”

“I think you missed most of it.”

“Not that you’ve had much to miss,” Maria says, stern. She pissed at him, which is more than fair given everything. You’d had some time to explain what happened. “We tried to find you. Her labor progressed pretty quick.”

“Speaking of which-” You let out a gasp, face twisting in pain. “I think the baby is crowning.”

“She must be in a hurry,” Joel says. 

“She?” 

“Just a hunch.” Joel smiles, kissing your head.

For the next few minutes, the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Your fight never happened because there’s only one thing on your minds, bringing your baby into the world. The world goes silent again, but not in a bad way. A way that makes you feel at peace, Joel’s warm hand in yours. It doesn’t take long until she announces her arrival with a fiery scream once Maria pulls her out of the water. 

You hold her close, tears of relief gathering in your eyes. Joel leans in, his forehead pressed to your temple, arms wrapping around you and your daughter as she pulls air into her lungs. 

“You did great, Sweetheart.” He whispers into your hair as he kisses your cheek, cupping your daughter’s head. “She’s beautiful.”

Your eyes flicker between him and your newborn. It’s the moment you’ve been envisioning for months, the one you thought you’d get with Gabe when Carter was born. A little piece of you mends. Your child soothes against your skin. 

After you’re both cleaned up, Joel helps you into bed, then settles beside you. She sleeps in your arms, tiny fist clenched around one of Joel’s fingers still curled up in your softest bath towel. You brush her cheek softly. 

“I believe we decided on Willa Peace?”

“Did we?” You tilt your head to the side, a grin verging on your lips. “I thought we weren’t hippies.”

Joel shrugs, tracing your shoulders. “I had a lot of time to think about it the past couple of weeks.”

“Joel…”

Dirt still traces over his face. He hasn’t had time to clean off since he got back. You catch the faint smell of sweat on his clothes and skin. “I know.”

“I would have done the same thing to save her. You know what I think about cures.” You keep your gaze on your child. It only reminds you what you brought her into. “You lied to her over and over when she needed the truth.”

“I was trying to protect her.”

“I wish you would’ve told me.”

“I know.”

“This only works if we’re open with each other.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.” You bite your lip. “I’m going to need some time with this one.”

Joel nods, arm wrapping around you. “I know.”

You lean into him, enjoying the quietness that surrounds the three of you.

“Willa Peace Miller,” You smile. “Has a nice ring to it.”

“Yeah.” Joel hums beside you. “Can’t believe she’s actually here.” 

“And we’re both okay.”

He nods, and neither of you can tear your eyes away from the precious little being in your arms. You hang on every rise and fall of her chest, everything micro movements, the soft flutter of her eyes that never quite open. It all feels so fragile, so sacred. 

You remember similar moments with Carter. When the grief and the world got too loud, you would lay on the floor or bed with him on your chest asleep. The weight of his small body was a tether that kept you from flying away. 

Even in this moment, as your heart inexplicitly expands, you feel that thread of fear winding itself through your body. Another person to love and protect. Another person to keep from the jaws of the world. Another person you can’t bear to lose. 

“You know,” you say, pulling Joel’s attention. “If you were ever gonna pull those baby clothes and blankets out of your drawer, now would be the time.”

His brow furrows and then eases with realization. “How long have you known they were there?”

You let out a soft chuckle. “I washed them the next time you went out on patrol. I wasn’t going to leave those filthy things in your drawer.”

“You were going through my things, I see.”

“Next time don’t try to hide something in your drawer from the person who washes your clothes.” 

Joel laughs, easing out of the bed to fetch the items from the drawer. “Got it, I’ll be sneakier next time.”

“Can you get the onesie with the yellow flowers?” You bite back a smile. He doesn’t know how you often pulled the drawer open and just gazed upon the items. It helped you visualize it all even when the fear threatened to take over. Another child, and here she was. You’d been most drawn to the little yellow flowers. 

Joel laughs, grabbing the onsie and the swaddle with little yellow flowers to match. You’re gentle with her as you work the small article of clothing over her tiny body. It’s a bit baggy, but you can’t complain. It just means she can wear it for longer. She sleeps through all the jostling as if she’s fully absorbed her middle name. 

She’s settled back into your arms when a soft tap echoes on your door. “Mommy?” Carter’s voice comes through muffled. 

“You can come in.”

The door flies open as your son bursts through the door, grin spread wide on his face. Ellie stands behind him, looking like the space might envelope her.

 “Aunt Maria said I have a baby sister.” 

“You want to meet her?” you ask. 

Carter nods eagerly, dashing toward your bed. Joel catches him before he can jump onto the bed beside you and potentially on you. 

“Daddy!” Carter’s eyes go wide. He hasn’t seen Joel in almost two weeks. 

Joel laughs, arms tightening around the boy. “Hey, bud.”

Your eyes meet Ellie’s. Her eyes are red, bags deep underneath. You motion her next to you. She hesitates before sliding onto the bed beside you. She’s timid, keeping to the edge, eyes flicking over you and Willa. 

“You can get closer.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I never got to hug you earlier.” 

She looks down, eyes scanning over your comforter like she’s reliving her homecoming. Once she’s close enough, your arm slips around her shoulders, tugging her close. She nuzzles into your side like a child seeking comfort. “You’re alright?” she asks.

“Yeah… we both are.” You say, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“But I’m still sorry you’re going through this.”

Ellie seems to sink into your further, eyes pinned to Willa. She doesn’t answer you. She doesn’t look at Joel as he sinks next to you with Carter, but you feel her tense when he does. 

“What’s her name?” Ellie asks. 

“Willa,” you reply. 

“Baby Willa.” Carter grins proudly. 

And the five of you sit there together in silence. You try to push it out of your head that it’s the last time you all might be together for a while. Even now, you feel the underlying anger rolling through Ellie’s body. This is a wound that’s been festering. It’s going to take time to heal. 

Eventually, Ellie slips from your side without a word to leave. She’s barely out the door when Joel goes after her. 

“Ellie,” Joel says, catching her on the front porch.

Her head whips around, expression set in stone. “I’m here for them, not you.” She keeps her voice low to not be overheard by nosy neighbors. “They’re my family. Do you understand?” 

Joel’s apology catches in his throat. He’s been apologizing the whole way back from Salt Lake. He knows there’s nothing he can say to rush this process. He made a decision, and these are his consequences. “Yeah… I got it.”

“Good.” 

She doesn’t give him a chance to say anything else.  

The bed is empty next to you, the sheets cool to the touch. Your eyes blink open. Cool moonlight shines through the window. You glance at the bathroom door. No light shines through the crease. Joel’s name is on your lips, interrupted by his voice. 

“Do you like the butterflies?” 

You turn to your side. Joel sits next to the crib, talking to Willa. She’s awake, moonlight reflecting off her big eyes. She’s content and still. 

“Your big sister liked butterflies. When they come out in the summertime, I feel her around me.”

She stares at Joel, mesmerized by his voice. Your eyes float upward to the mobile Joel made. He hadn’t explained it to you, but you already knew. Sarah had pinned them all throughout their Austin home. You keep one stuck to the window above the kitchen sink. There’s one tucked in his nightstand drawer. 

“I think she sent you to me.” He lets it sit there, contemplating the weight and depth of what he said. “I think she sent you to me, your momma, Ellie, I suppose she’s your big sister too, Carter. All of you.

“Her name was Sarah. She would have loved you.” He chuckles. “She used to ask me for a baby brother or sister. I didn’t know your momma yet… Well, I guess I did, but that’s a whole ‘nother story.”

You stifle a laugh unsuccessfully. Joel’s eyes lock on yours. He smiles, shooting you a wink. He looks younger under the moonlight, more at ease. The creases in his skin are less apparent. 

“Your momma, she’s quite a bit younger than me.” The smile stays pinned to his face. “It’s not so creepy now- least that’s what she tells me- but it would’ve been then, and I was a decent fella back before the world went to shit. Besides, between you and me.” He leans closer to Willa’s ear, but his eyes are still on you. “Your momma had a pretty big crush on me back then.”

You groan, heat flushing your cheeks. It shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it is. You chuck his pillow at him. Joel catches it, laughing. It’s the kind that sits deep in one’s chest and bubbles up with the purest kind of joy. You can’t help but smile. 

He slowly stands, grunting as he does. You hear the familiar pop of his joints. He leans into the crib. You notice Willa’s eyes have fallen shut. “I love you, my little wildflower.” He kisses her cheek before falling back into bed next to you. 

His arm wraps around your waist. Pulling you close, he steals a kiss on your forehead. “I’m getting too old to sit on the floor like that.”

“You’re getting too old to have a newborn, yet here we are.” Your fingers run through his hair. 

“Still can’t believe she’s here… you’re both healthy.”

“Neither can I.” You glance back at the crib. She’s just a few days old and already, you can’t imagine life without her. 

Tears well at the corner of your eyes. Your heart has grown so much. You thought you couldn’t open it to more people, yet here you are. The you of 4 years ago would be too terrified of losing this life to give it a chance, the price of pain too high. Yet here you are, embracing it, taking that risk, because this is living, and the love and belonging far outweigh the potential for pain even as it grows with every passing day. You fell into the trap,and it’s a crowded one, but it’s a happy one. 

Joel kisses your cheek. “You should get some sleep before she wakes up hungry.” 

“Mmm,” you hum as his hands move soothingly over your back. “Someone not named Willa woke me up.”

Joel chuckles. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”

But even now you feel your eyelids getting heavier. 

“Did you mean what you said?”

“About?”

You let your eyes fall shut as Joel massages out a knot in your back. You lean into it. “About Sarah sending us to you.”

“I did.” He kisses your forehead. 

Taglist: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites

@missladym1981 @jessthebaker @annieispunk @ashleyfilm @moel-jiller

@eloquentdreamer @lizzie-cakes @hiroikegawa

[marwiaft]

Farm era mood board; TLOU.

Baking fresh bread, getting lost in arts and crafts, riding horses through the golden fields, hunting for food in the quiet wilderness—this is what life on the farm is all about, (or at least I wished it was). It's peaceful yet vibrant, like a little piece of heaven on earth. I mean, in the apocalypse, could life get any better?

Every morning begins with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the house, along with the quiet sound of the record player playing old music downstairs. The soft yellow glow of sunlight seeps through the curtains—hand-sewn by Dina and me, a reminder of the quiet afternoons spent chatting and laughing as we worked.

...

Baking has become my little ritual—it's a way to show love and care. The flour-dusted countertops are a familiar sight, and the house is often filled with the warm, inviting scent of fresh bread, pies, or Ellie’s favorite cookies. I’ve perfected the art of kneading dough while chatting with Dina — our laughs mingle together each time.

Caring for the animals is a routine that also brings me so much joy. Feeding the chickens, brushing the horses, and watching over the sheep gives life a peaceful rhythm. Ellie and I often work side by side in the barn, her teasing me about being "too soft" on the animals while secretly slipping the horses extra treats. Time seems to stop for a moment, I can finally breath.

...

In between chores, I find some time to spend with Ellie. In the afternoons, we take walks through the fields, hand in hand, talking about anything and everything. Ellie often has her guitar slung over her back, ready to play a song for me when we find a shady spot to rest. She loves making me laugh with her terrible jokes, but it’s the way she looks at me—soft, unguarded—that speaks louder than any words.

Evenings are my favorite, though. After dinner, when JJ's asleep and Dina’s curled up with a book, Ellie and I retreat to the porch. We share a blanket under the stars, her hand in mine as we trace constellations in the night sky. Sometimes she’ll play her guitar, singing softly, her voice carrying a mix of hope and tenderness that feels like it’s meant just for me. Sometimes, we talk about the future. What we hope for, what we want to build in the farm... or, we just sit in silence, letting the peace of the moment speak for itself.

Life here isn’t just about surviving—it’s about loving, healing, and finding joy in every little thing.

(can you tell the farm era is one of my favorites?)

[ennabear]

professor!abby hcs 😸

daily click | boycott tlou

as i’ve said before, if you have time to read this, you have time to help palestine in whatever ways are possible for you. do your daily click, sign a few petitions, boycott zionist companies, and donate if you can. there are so many amazing resources on tumblr, please please utilize them.

one thing about professor!abby is that she goes crazyyy when it comes to buying more books. her ideal date is strolling around a bookstore together, however, these dates always end with her buying a hundred dollars worth of books.

every single time you let that woman walk into a book store, it’s like you have to keep her on a leash. yes, abby, you can get that one. no, abby, we don’t have bookshelf room for a whole series. she’s unstoppable, she’s like a fat kid in a candy store. but she’s so adorable!!!

her goodreads account is insaneee!!! some of her students follow her, of course. she writes entire in depth reviews about EVERY book she reads. in fact, her favorite part about finishing a book is writing a goodreads review. and you best believe she updates her reading progress every night.

and she’s never not reading a book. she doesn’t prefer to carry a purse or a bag, but she’ll gladly put her book in your bag whenever you go out. she reads EVERYWHERE. at a dinner party? she’s reading. her best friend’s birthday party? she’s reading. at the gay club? reading. and she claims that it’s not rude because “everybody knows i read a lot. if anyone has a problem with it, maybe they’re just not a real friend!!”

she’s a little bit of a coffee freak. a surprising amount of her money goes to buying the most expensive and exotic coffee grounds she can get. there’s nothing she loves more than waking up to you making her coffee before work. sometimes, if she’s feeling extra emotional, she’ll hold your face in her hands and tell you how much she loves you while tearing up. what a big baby she is!!

our girl definitely has anxiety problems. if she ever has to leave the house without you, she’ll text you every 10 minutes asking for advice and reassurance. she trusts you so much, though. your advice is all she’s ever needed.

adding on to the last one, she’s a teeny bit insecure too. her past relationships absolutely wrecked her twenties and she never bothered to start dating again after that. sometimes she thinks she’s too old and unloveable for you, but she’s just being silly. she’s our little kitten princess and she deserves the whole entire world!!!!

on a more positive note, she loves the outdoors. sometimes she’ll wake you up before sun rises and force you to go hiking with her. no matter how much you complain, she knows you still like spending time with her, and the sunrise is always beautiful from her favorite spot.

i think before she became a college professor, she had to student-teach for 3 years, starting with first grade. imagine miss abby with baby muscles going over the spelling bee words with her littles, or playing tag with them at recess. miss abby was definitely their favorite, and a few of her students cried on her last day.

but i don’t think she’d want her own kids, just a dog is fine. it’s too much of a responsibility for her and she wants to dedicate all of her time and energy to you. but she does have a few nieces and nephews from her adopted sister, yara. and she’d be more than happy to babysit.

as much as she loves reading, she likes it more when you read to her. especially because most of the time, she’s exhausted from being awake and grading assignments for so long. so she likes to lay her head on your chest while you read to her, even if you have no idea what’s going on in the book.

watching movies with her is an absolute nightmare. if there was a book version, she’ll keep whispering “god… that’s not what happened in the book.” and then afterwards, she’ll explain everything they changed (aka did wrong) and why the book was so much better.

she definitely has a pair of reading glasses. i don’t think she uses them all the time but sometimes when she’s tired and just wants to read, she’ll use them because they make it easier for her to see the words through her sleepy eyes.

sometimes she so sleepy that she falls asleep while reading. it’s your job to take her book out of her hands and place her bookmark in it before it falls on the floor. on more than one occasion, she’s woken up at 2am to her book face down on the floor, no bookmark, with your head snuggled into her neck. it makes her a little bit grumpy because now, poor poor sleepy abigail has to decide between searching through all of the pages to find the one she was reading last, or taking her girl to bed and tucking her in. such a tough decision!!!

[electricneonvalkyrie]

Two things. I made the colossal mistake of turning all my gym buddies into fans of TLOU.

Now, my phone is blowing up with “IVES! Can you believe this? No WAY they have this tiny actress playing Abby. Tell me it’s not true.”

I thought maybe I’d share my opinions on this, but for now, let’s just dive straight into some Abby Anderson WLF GYM RAT headcanons because you know what? Our girl, without a doubt, is too busy lifting heavy ass iron plates to come to the phone right now.

Gonna have to leave her a message after the beep.

Manny lifted a shitty MP3 player from some wide-eyed recruit who badmouthed Abby when she wasn’t around.

If you've met Manny, you know he's not cool with people dissing his best friend. He proudly wrenched the device from their shaking hands and immediately hunted Abby down to present it to her.

The thing is, she never remembers to charge it.

Does she leave her earbuds in long after the battery has died, and the music stops playing? Yes. This keeps overly talkative soldiers away and blocks out the worst of their chatter, which is her intention.

She doesn’t totally hate the silent barrier, since it creates an aura of unapproachability.

She does, however, hate that Manny is the only one who never falls for it.

“You know… I went through a lot of trouble to get you that thing,” Manny says, giving Abby’s sneaker a generous kick as she repositions herself on the bench.

Abby glares up at him with a slow, deliberate roll of her eyes. “You stole it.”

“Semantics. Don’t change the subject, hermana.”

“From a recruit who was shitting his pants,” Abby snorts, shaking her head at his attempt at gallantry. She lets out a smug puff of air and lifts the barbell off the rack. “Spot me or move.”

Manny throws a hand to his chest, a theatrical sigh escaping his lips, before smoothly shifting into position behind her. “He was talking shit. I defended your honour!”

“By bullying a kid,” Abby hisses, the barbell rising and falling in a hypnotic rhythm above her chest. Her knuckles turn white from the pressure, her arms starting to shake as fatigue sets in. Her veins press against her freckled skin as she battles the urge to quit. “You want a medal for being a dick? Real noble, Manny.”

The weight strains her muscles as she lowers the bar slowly, her jaw a rigid line, teeth gritted in fierce concentration.

“For you, I do these things,” Manny gasps dramatically, his hands hovering nearby as she squeezes her eyes shut for the final rep. “And this is how you repay me?”

The bench groans under Abby's final push, the bar clanging harshly as the weight settles back onto the rack, a metallic shriek echoing through the quiet gym.

“If you spent half as much time training as you do running your mouth, you’d be dangerous,” Abby smirks.

With a sharp suck of his teeth, Manny tosses a tattered, damp towel at her head. “Next time, I’m letting it crush you.”

Speaking of things that crush, Abby exclusively carries stainless steel water bottles because they can also be used as weapons in emergencies. She doesn’t fuck with plastic. She also despises anything that condensates because it’s a sensory ick. The only time she likes her hands all slippery and wet is when—

She has multiple items in her gym bag that double as weapons, but you'll have to brave the overwhelming stench of sweat and old gym socks to find them. Despite her neat habits, Isaac's sudden assignments leave her flustered, and she occasionally neglects to empty her duffel bag. (Reason #57 that she desperately needs a girlfriend!)

Always vigilant, Abby never takes a bench or machine where someone can creep up on her. She strategically positions herself in the gym with her back to a wall, allowing her a clear view of the comings and goings of everyone around her.

If it allows her to sneak glances at you while you're deep in a squat, you’ll probably never know because you make her so nervous.

She’s in and out of the barracks showers. But when she gets the rare opportunity to shower alone, she takes her time. She loves the way her favourite pine soap lathers into a rich, creamy foam that feels cool and refreshing as it runs down her powerful body.

Also, a little birdie introduced her to the different settings on the showerhead in her apartment and with that post-workout high, her skin all flushed and dappled with sweat, she likes to… explore them.

What? Her muscles are sore. 😏

As you can probably imagine, I have about three thousand headcanons for Abby in the gym. If you dig this one, I'll happily share more. Cheers!

[izaacs-notdeadyet]

The outsiders zombie apocalypse au say whay?

Chat.. let me say I have been COOKING.

Storyline is loosely based on the last of us, in the sense that Johnny takes the role of Ellie, and Darry of Joel. This is inspired by a post I saw talking about a tlou outsiders au but I couldn't find who made the post to tag them in this ☹️☹️

More info and designs under the cut (tw for guns, violence, and death)

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Johnny Cade:

Lore: [Johnny was born seven months after the start of the apocalypse. His mother had been pregnant with him and managed to survive up until his birth, when she ended up getting bit by a zombie when she went into labor. She managed to escape back into her and Mr Cade's cabin, where he would find his wife who had turned, and his newly born son.

Johnny's father did NOT like his son. He only took care of him cause he felt some kind of obligation to his late wife and it's really a miracle Johnny didn't die under his watch or because of him. One day, Mr Cade sent Johnny out scavenging for supplies on his own (horrible idea.) Johnny ended up being chased and leading them back. Him and his dad ended up escaping, just barely.

Johnny had been bit in their escape. His dad had seen it first. His dad wanted to shoot him before he turned, but Johnny, terrified with a gun to his head, lashed out and knifed his dad to death. He sat there for awhile, waiting to turn. But Johnny never did end up turning. He grabbed his dad's gun and his stuff, and set off for the road, leaving his dad's corpse cold behind him.

He survived for around a year mostly on his own, occasionally falling in with some travelers but mostly he was on his own. Somewhere in that year timeframe he got jumped by Paul and his gang, getting his scar and losing his gun in the process.]

Extra commentary: i honestly had so much fun with drawing Johnny. As for his character, I think his growth was stunted due to stress and malnutrition. Similar to in the book he also looks younger. It would still bug him, but he's gotten good at playing up his youthfulness to gain the trust of unsuspecting people, and then mugging them.

I think he'd be pretty efficient with his bow, especially since his gun was stolen and he hasn't been able to find another one yet. In a way he likes that the bow gives him more control, but he also misses the confidence that having a gun gave him.

He carries around a mini sewing kit, he's gotten pretty good at fixing holes in his clothes and bag and even repaired the hole in his jeans. He needs to find more scrap fabric though to repair his other pants leg.

He's pretty shy. Just in general but also because he doesn't really trust people. He's paranoid about someone finding out about his immunity and then using it against him. If he can't wear his jacket, (which is rare, but sometimes) he'll wrap gauze or extra fabric around the bite tightly to keep it hidden.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Darrel Curtis:

Lore: [Darry doesn't remember much from before the apocalypse, he would've only been four. He does remember a panic and them having to leave town, his mom Carrying his baby brother Soda in her hands. The Curtis parents were very good about keeping their children safe. They ended up going to a sanctuary city. It was rough, but it was more like Jackson than Boston, it was a safe place to raise their kids.

That was, until it wasn't. One day, two years before canon, a horde broke in, and the city was overrun with zombies. Darry managed to find his brothers, along with Steve and Two-bit in the chaos. They stopped by their house, Darry packing a bag and taking his father's shotgun, he was trying to find his parents and also keep his brothers and friends safe at the same time. When he found his parents, it was too late. They were turning, and Darry had to shoot them to save Soda.

Steve ended up hotwiring a car for them, and they fled the city. Darry has been doing his best to take care of them sense, even though the group gets on his last nerves, especially with their insistence to keep adding people to their group and stop by long abandoned tourist traps when they're meant to be looking for the nearest sanctuary city.]

Extra commentary: I LOVED drawing Darry. If I had fun drawing Johnny than I can't begin to explain what drawing Darry did to me. It was my first time drawing him and he just came so easy to me.

For his design I don't have much to say, I think he'd have a habit of biting the tip of his knife (something @deim0sdread came up with that) and it ended up giving him a scar on his lip from the blade.

For his bag though I have a lot more to say, I think he'd be the one that's most prepared, he tries to keep his first aid kit packed with the essentials. I think if he found the group all walkie talkies he'd be set. He's kinda like a mom in the way he runs around making sure everyone's set, that ponyboy didn't leave anything behind and that he's actually paying attention, or that Twobit isn't trying to drink fucking rubbing alcohol. He kinda resents having to do so much for everyone but he loves them and couldn't do any different

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Mandatory tagging of the moots [ @deim0sdread @urmomatron700 @b3st-sunday-dr3ss @ari-the-silly ]

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Playing Minecraft with Ellie Williams

x Builder!Reader short headcanon list

Loser!Ellie makes an appearance if you squint

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

My rules for requests and characters I can write for

TLOU Masterlist

Ellie Williams dating playlist made by yours truly

A/n: Hi lovelies! Lia here, this post is completely self-indulgent because I was playing Minecraft earlier and thought of this. I am so obsessed with the Cherry blossom biome shit that I've literally been building with it nonstop. Little update, more Cod and Resident Evil content to be posted soon.

Disclaimers/warnings: OOC?, Unrealistic, I'm so sorry but English is not my first language so please don't come after me.

ꕥ Ellie who is definitely the one carrying the both of you during playing.

ꕥ She's the miner and you're the builder situation, she's over in the mines slaying mobs and collecting loot while you're all the way up in the quaint little survival base you built.

ꕥ Beds next to each other for sure, Ellie insists. You want your own room? Not happening, y'all are sharing one room. Dyes her bed green and effortlessly finding dyes so that you can have your favorite color as your bed.

ꕥ "Babe, look what I found!" Que to her doing the little Minecraft crouch and giving you a flower she found while exploring.

ꕥ Said flower is now proudly displayed in a pot at the kitchen area.

ꕥ Doesn't care if it's corny, you're Minecraft character will virtually kiss hers while little "mwah <3" messages pop up on the chat.

ꕥ Nerd Ellie who custom made Minecraft skins so that they both looked like you guys. (Meanwhile Jesse has a default Steve one)

ꕥ She's a completely different person when gaming with Jesse than she is gaming with you. She would literally spawn kill him just to piss him off but she'd literally hold a little fake funeral if you died (not by her hand, never by hers) and you'd respawn and see a little makeshift graveyard next to your guys' house.

ꕥ Has done speedruns before but she'd rather just chill with you. Whenever you're not around to game with her, she does little things that don't affect the build but definitely something you'll notice when you're back.

ꕥ When it's all four of you playing, you, Ellie, Dina and Jesse. It's automatic that you're always with Ellie. Jesse once accidentally killed your dog and Ellie was pissed, like "purposefully lagging his game" pissed.

ꕥ She definitely steals loot from Jesse. Poor Jesse is always the victim of the shenanigans of the sever while Dina is chilling and doing her own thing.

ꕥ Wants you on her lap whenever you're gaming, though that would be difficult if you gamed on PC so maybe keep it on mobile.

ꕥ Ellie who had to convince you to on survival with her because you always just played on creative. She promised to protect you from the scary mobs, especially creepers.

ꕥ Need materials? You got it, doesn't matter if she has to go to the end or the nether she'll go and get you what you need.

ꕥ Asks you to cook the items she hunted, joking around while with Jesse in the mines (she has lured him into lava more times than you can count) telling him she needs to go back home to her wife (you of course).

ꕥ Loser!Ellie who literally prefers gaming with you rather than anyone else, it's one of her most favorite ways to spend time with you.

ꕥ Ellie who notices how much you love the cherry blossom biome so she makes an effort to get you materials to build with. Saplings, planks, and logs. You name it, she'll get it. Even going as far as to plant it around your guys' house.

ꕥ Always leaves signs around whenever she leaves without your knowledge, she once left a sign out in your garden with "I love you - Ells <3" and you've never taken it off. It just stayed there, being part of the aesthetic of the house you made together.

ꕥ Knows random ass Minecraft facts and tells you whenever something reminds her of it. Not that you mind, you love listening to her.

ꕥ Finds mods that she thinks you'll like, if she doesn't find it she'll try to make her own mods but it's never really successful. At least she tried <3