#Like there’s so many plot holes because of that ending it’s insane to me that there are people who like it

[final-boy-todd-simmons]

The things people have come up with to defend the ending of Primal Fear never make sense to me. Like yeah it’s cool that a CSA victim stood up to his abuser and took advantage of a shitty law system to get an easier sentence, but also why did he kill his ex girlfriend who was also a victim of the same abuser??

Plus not to mention he used an already misrepresented disorder just to garner sympathy. Using DID as a sort of scape goat to get himself an easier sentence, like you can’t be upset at people for being upset at that?? Nine times out of ten the people who are mad about the end don’t care that he killed his abuser or that he’s not some “sad innocent boy”, people care about a disorder that’s been driven into the ground so many times.

Like if the movie played out exactly the same yet it didn’t have the DID subplot, people (Myself included) would not be upset.

Also a professional who worked on Primal Fear literally called DID a hoax so take that if you will

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Taming the Supe

✨ Soldier Boy x Fem!Therapist!Reader ✨

Minors do ¡NOT! interact with this post. Thanks.

A/N: Let me be upfront and say that I actually haven’t seen the boys 😭 not my cup of tea as far as shows go. So this perception of SB might be very far off. But like, he’s hot and he keeps showing up on my feed so this is happening >:) and in my defense I did try to do a little bit of research on America’s Ass(hole), so hopefully that shows lol. From what I understand he’s a TERRIBLE person who just so happens to be extremely attractive, so slay. Oh, also, to any therapist reading this: I am so, SO sorry.

Icons by me! Any and all interaction is very much appreciated!

Also- I’m looking for a beta reader/ editor! If you think you’d be interested, dm me!

Content Warnings: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ 🌶️honestly that about sums it up. There’s SOME- A LITTLE- plot but it’s more plop if you catch my drift. This is toe-curling, eyes-rolling, name-screaming, tsunami-coming level shit, ya hear?? At least, that’s what I went for. ;)

Just note that SB is… very SB for the better half of it. And he has an INSANE breeding kink.

The ending’s real rushed cause honestly this was mainly written for the spice, but hopefully it’s enjoyable!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taming Soldier Boy was a feat that should have been impossible. In all regards.

He was a jackass- apple didn’t fall far from the tree as far as he and his dad were concerned. It wasn’t necessarily Ben’s fault; you cant help your blood. But because of said aforementioned father, Ben was brought up on misogynist ideals and the ideal that he was simultaneously both a disappointment and the bearer of a massive god-complex. The former applied to when he was around his father, the latter to when he was around literally anyone else.

Not only that, but he was separated from society for forty years, being tortured- sorry, “experimented on”- by a skeevy Russian organization that his own teammates had pawned him off too. Sure, he had committed massive, unforgivable atrocities, but quite frankly, the other supes on Payback weren’t much better. Maybe not as bad, but certainly not much better.

He re-walked upon the United States at the very young age of one hundred and three, coupled with PTSD, a god complex and more “back in my day” rants than your weird old uncle could ever hope to spew.

And now the thing is: it’s easy to make him look like he blends in. Trim the disheveled forty-year-old beard, give him some boyish bangs, throw him in a tight white shirt and a Giants jersey with grey sweats and all of a sudden you have a normal looking, abnormally attractive dude. Looks maybe thirty seven. Has a smile that has probably actually, literally charmed the pants off of someone.

But to make him act right? That’s the hard part.

That also where you came in.

You were a therapist with a damn good reputation. Shouldn’t have been involved with Supes in the slightest, but you owed Hughie Campbell a favor. Good kid who just so happened to have powers. So be it.

The kid had stumbled into your office a few years before Soldier Boy returned, and you had had multiple sessions before he dropped of the grid. You paid it no mind- you have a lot of clients, and therapy isn’t a good world to get attached to any of them.

But then one day, after one of Homelander’s many destructive “saves” of the city, you found yourself stuck in a burning building. By some miracle Hughie was in the same building, and he teleported you out and onto safer ground. Sure it was awkward being held up bridal style by a young dude who was ass-naked, but stranger things have happened.

Because of the save, you felt that you owed him, and told him as much. He was gracious, not wanting to take advantage of you, and you went back to not hearing anything from him.

That is, until just after the news article about Soldier Boy’s return broke out. It was definitely a headline that had caused you to raise a brow, but from what you knew America’s first supe was not what Vought made him out to be in the eyes of the public. He was an asshole who killed activists, and was most likely very racist. If anything, seeing the headline made you slightly wary for the good of the world. But you let it slide, figuring that if you already existed in a world where psychos like Homelander did you would probably be fine if there was one more.

Well, you were very much wrong.

A few days after the article broke out, Hughie called you. Asked if you would be okay to take you up on that favor. Of course, you said yes- you were only alive because of him. He had showed up to your house, and teleported you to a dinghy motel with no explanation, rendering you both in the same awkward situation as before. Him holding you bridal style, ass naked. If you had a nickel for every time he’s done that… you’d have ten cents, but it’s still oddly specific of it to happen twice.

“Listen,” he had said, setting you down. You had no choice but to do so, given that he was ass naked and it would be really awkward to see that. So you kept your eyes locked on his as he talked. “You know how Soldier Boy is back?”

“Mhm…” you nodded warily, knowing damn well that that was an ominous hook to your situation.

“Uh, he’s insane.”

“Sorry, he’s, like, he is? Presently?”

“Yeah… he’s in there and I think he would really benefit from a little therapy. His mind’s wired like a grandpa who has stories from every war.”

“Fuck, Hugh,” you cursed. He winced, his sweet eyes opened wide. “Sorry. It’s just.. are you kidding me?” Soldier Boy? It would probably take a team of specialists to figure out what’s going on in that head.

“Look, I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you at least try?”

“Only for you.” It was really hard to have resolve with those puppy dog eyes staring at you.

“Thanks, y/n. Really.”

So you had walked in behind him; waiting as he threw on some sweats that were in a plastic bag outside of the motel room door.

You walked in together, only to see the most beautiful man you’d ever seen sitting on the bed, shoes still on.

Look. Everyone has fantasized about Soldier Boy at least once in their lives. The pinnacle of physical perfection, charisma oozing from his pores- it was hard not to. You were no exception- in your younger years there had certainly been more than a few nights where you were fucking yourself to pictures or videos of him, pathetically rutting on your clit and wishing it was his huge, gloved hands instead.

Of course, that was well before the article on the truth about him broke out. After that he had majorly lost his sex appeal.

However, seeing him in person immediately flashed you back to being younger and sexually frustrated, wondering how a man like that even existed. He was even better looking in person, piercing green eyes boring holes into you.

Thankfully it only took one douchey comment to snap you back to reality.

“So prostitutes are still a thing?” he asked, the question directed at Hughie. You immediately balled your hands into fists at your side, ready to tell this old-ass off, before remembering that you were there on professional business.

“No, no, she’s a therapist,” Hughie told him. “Y/n L/n, the best in the business.”

“You brought me a shrink?” he laughed incredulously. “Fuck you, I don’t have shell shock!”

He definitely had shell shock.

You didn’t bother waiting for Hughie to answer. “Listen, Mr. Boy, I’m only here ‘cause I owe this kid a favor. Would it really pain you so much to talk about yourself for an hour?” Your hands were planted on your hips.

“Man, when did women get so feisty?” he asked, that 1950s accent oozing through his words.

“Once they came to their senses,” I say with sass.

“So what? All I have to do is talk to a pretty thing about me?”

“Pretty much,” you conceded, ignoring the “compliment” he payed you.

“Fine.” Great. He agreed. How wonderful.

“I’m going to get some food, I’ll be back in an hour. If you need anything at all, just text me,” Hughie told me. “Thanks again.”

“Sure,” you replied, leaning in by his ear. “I think you’re going to owe me after this.

“Yeah, you’re probably not wrong,” he agrees, patting you on the back before teleporting away to the store. Man, this power thing… never gets any less weird.

“Take a seat,” Soldier Boy patted his lap.

“Hilarious,” you rolled your eyes, sitting on the other bed. Look, if he hadn’t been the jackass you knew him to be you most definitely would’ve sat on his lap. But you knew better. At least in the moment. “So, tell me about yourself.”

“M’name’s Ben, and I’m a soldier. My daddy hated me, so became a superhero. Surprise, surprise, he still hated me. But I’m better, stronger than he ever was. Might go take a piss on his grave while I’m here.”

“Interesting,” you murmur, putting together a mental file. Name: Ben. No last name? Weird. Daddy issues- makes the god complex make sense. Hmm. “Did you ever have a mother in the picture?”

“No. Died when I was a boy.” Added to file.

“Okay, so then why take the serum?” You know why, but you want to see something.

“You deaf? I said it was cause my daddy hated me.”

“You took a untested, potentially dangerous serum just because of your daddy issues?” you ask, matching his rude tone.

“You- you know what? This is boring. How about you and I fuck instead of this, hm?” he asks. Him saying the word fuck turned you on more than it should, but his misogyny was a quick turnoff.

“I think I’m just going to text Hughie,” you said, moving to stand, wholly unimpressed.

“Wait, no- I did it cause I hated feeling weak. Feeling stupid. Thought it would turn me into someone, just turned me into a jackass machine,” he said honestly, his eyes big and sad.

“Okay,” you said simply, sitting back down. That’s much more like it. “So then what led you to murder innocent people?”

If this were a normal session you would have never asked such a thing. Ever. But this was anything but normal.

“What did you just say to me?” And there it was. A glimpse of that Soldier Boy quick temper. You probably shouldn’t have been making him mad, but you didn’t know how else to go about this given that you weren’t in your professional environment.

“You heard me,” you told him with your arms crossed, trying to bite back the fear caused by

“You’re playing with fire,” he warns, fists balled at his sides. “A question like that’s gonna cost ya.”

You roll your eyes, standing my ground. “Why. Did. You. Murder. Them?”

“Because they deserved it,” he yelled, standing up. You do your best not to flinch, but he was an imposing six-and-some feet tall.

“How? Did the Milk family deserve it? Did their son?” you yell, fighting off the fear in your voice.

He stops then, jaw clenching. “I was the good guy. The hero.” His voice breaks, ever so slightly. His green eyes burn holes into yours. You stare right back, just as intensely.

“So, imposter syndrome.”

“No!” he roared, the sound threatening to bring down the roof of the motel room.

“They were good people. Activists. Made a difference in their community.”

“That got what was coming to them.”

“What? A car being thrown at their house?”

“You…” he steps closer. You sit up in the bed, back against the headboard. “You don’t know me.”

I stand up then. Not nearly as tall as him, but in anger. “Yeah, but I know your actions.”

“Then you should think I’m a hero.”

“I don’t.” I say grimly, arms crossed.

“I’m Soldier Boy, for Christ’s sake,” he spat.

“Yeah, and I’m Y/N L/N. Who fucking cares.” Well this went from therapy to argument real fast.

He leans down then, by my ear. It’s all you can do not to back away as his hot breath fans the column of your neck. “Maybe you should.” His voice is gravelly, rough from anger but also from something else…

“Well I won’t.” You said, maintaining your ground.

“Wrong move, sweetheart,” he said, before crashing his lips to yours. You squeaked into the kiss, surprised, but he just took initiate to shove his tongue in your mouth, exploring with great fervor.

And you knew damn well how wrong this was. How unprofessional you had been; how bad it was that his tongue, this tongue of a murderer, was half down your throat. But in the moment you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, because he was just that good of a kisser. Made you forget about the misogyny and his volatility. At least, for the time being.

He pulled away, smirking down at you.

“If we do this, you’re going to talk to me after. Act like you’re an adult,” you told him sternly, as if your underwear wasn’t soaked with arousal from the kiss.

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled.

“I fucking mean it,” you reiterated, hands on his pecs.

“And I fucking said fine,” he retorted. “Ben,” he introduced as an after thought.

“Okay, cool. Ben.”

“That’s the name I better hear coming off those pretty lips in a couple minutes here,” his gaze darkened with lust, emerald green eyes darkened to the color of a forest cloaked in the dead of night..

“O-okay.” And there it is, the first time you gave into the stutter derived from your desire. This was dangerous, but once he kissed you again you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

When he pulled away he thumbed at your lower lip, and you immediately react led to his touch, mouth falling open around the digit. “Good girl,” he praised, and you hated the way you felt proud at his words. He pulled off his jersey and under shirt, urging you to do the same until you both stood before each other, topless. He crowded you against the bed until you fell back, calves draped over the edge. He made room for himself between your legs, kissing you furiously, and you let out little breathy sighs as he did so.

“Attagirl,” he breathed when you gasped his name as he bit along your collarbone. He continued his fiery trail, from the juncture of your earlobe and neck to your collar bone and then down your chest, and you knew damn well that you weren’t going to be able to cover up half of the marks he gave you. But you also couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“You-you can come in me,” you mumbled as he kisses the valley between your breasts.

He chuckles darkly. “Oh, I’ll fill you up real good” he said, eliciting a gasp from you when he bites your nipple.

He continued his path of kisses down your body, and in the bottom of your eye you could already see dark marks on the tops of your breasts, making your head fuzzy.

He stopped at your pants, biting the juncture of your hip and and thigh.

“‘m gonna get you ready for me,” he explained, before ripping off your pants and underwear in one go. This is not a metaphor, he literally tore them of you. You whined in protest, but he dismissed you, saying “I’ll get you new ones.”

And even though you knew he most definitely wouldn’t, his breath on your clit stopped you from caring.

He gave you no warning before diving into your soaked pussy, and you all but screamed his name when he fid, your fingers grasping his hair for dear life. He groaned into your cunt but kept going, spurred on by your actions.

The thing was, you hadn’t expected him to be good at eating pussy. He was from, like, the forties, after all. You thought that most people then probably didn’t bother as no one really cared about women and probably their pleasure back then.

Well, Soldier Boy- Ben- was very different.

He worked at you methodically, licking long stripes before thrusting his tongue in an out of you, testing the waters. He kept eye contact, and you could feel the smugness in his gaze as he watched you come apart.

Eventually he switched so that he was sucking on your clit, which would’ve been enough to bring you over already but then he added one of his long, thick fingers to your pussy. You yelped his name, not ready for the stretch and on the edge.

“Don’t stop,” you urged, whining. “Please don’t stop, Ben.”

And he didn’t, adding a second finger and scissoring within you. If his fingers were already like this, his cock…

But you couldn’t think about that then, nor could you really think about anything at all because he started tracing tight patterns on your bud and added a third finger, stretching you so far that you had no choice but to come. He helped you ride out your high for longer than you thought possible, lapping up all of your release before standing up to full height.

“That good, Sweets?” he smirked, looking down at your fucked out self. You nodded dumbly, and he chuckled. “Thought so.”

Your release covered his facial hair, but he didn’t seem to care much, just wiped a little off with his forearm. He then kicked off his shoes and took off his pants and underwear, and that’s when you saw it.

You were already baffled by him- beyond hot, perfect physique, pussy-eating champion, etc.

But his cock? It was huge. And it was perfect, a word that shouldn’t be able to be used to describe the male genitalia.

“Ben- that’s not going to fit-,” you gasp, sounding like a cheap porno.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, and from his tone you could tell he was going to bottom out no matter what.

Oh, god.

He climbed over you, his large forearms on either side of your head as he rested over you in a plank. He put a pillow under your hips, and you knew you were in for it.

He rubbed his glorious dick over your hole, your clit, and through your folds, covering it in your slick, and you moaned his name.

“Good girl,” he praised, before finally lining up with your entrance. You were already clenching around nothing, but then he started pushing in.

If his fingers were big, his dick… even the tip had you a moaning mess.

“Oh, honey, you’re tighter than a virgin who’s never touched herself,” he groaned as he pushed in, you writhing beneath him. “‘n I just stretched you out, too.” The pillow under your hips let him get impossibly deep, and after an eternity he finally bottomed out, so large that you shouldn’t have been able to take him. But you did, and he hadn’t even done anything yet but you were a whimpering, whiny mess under him.

“I’m gonna move now,” he told you, before pulling almost all the way out and back in, slowly. You were writhing under him, but he was undeterred, and just kept going until you gave him easy access.

“Ben?” you asked, your voice sweet. And you didn’t know what possessed you to add the next part of your question, but you did. “Can you fuck me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he groaned, before rearing back again and slamming back into you. It was hard and it was rough, and it was exactly what you wanted even if you knew you weren’t gonna be able to sit right for a week.

You literally had a supe cock in you. You’d seen dildos of these, maybe even owned one, but nothing could do the real thing justice as you whined beneath it.

And if you thought it was already enough just taking him like this, once he started talking you were through.

“Yeah, take it,” he smirked, pounding into you at literal superhuman speed. “I’m going to destroy this cunt until we’re both leaking out of it, and then I’m going to keep going,” he promised against your collarbone, biting anywhere he pleased. You whimper against him, pussy clenching around his enormous length as it crashed in and out of your fluttering walls.

“You like that? Wanna be my little slut?” he grinned, rutting on your clit so you couldn’t answer. “You’d be a real good slut. Would just keep you at home all day, naked and always ready for me. Always full of me too,” he mused, his pace somehow getting rougher. Your mouth was dropped in a permanent ‘o’ as you reveled in the way his huge hands are squeezing your hips and pulling you against him, filing you to the base.

“No other boy can do it like me, sweetheart,” he said cockily. “Fill you up so good, make you mewl.” And as it turns out he was most definitively right about that. But then it was too hard to think about what’s right and wrong when-

“Ben- I- ‘m gonna-.”

“Aww baby, what’s the matter? ‘M I fucking you too good? You can’t talk?”

You moaned pathetically, pulling on his fluffy hair.

“I know, I know,” he said with a soft grunt. “Come for me, pretty thing. Come.” And you did. Hard, all consumingly. It hurt so good that you almost blacked out, but he kept going, doing his damnedest to overstimulate you.

“Ain’t done with you yet, sweetheart. Ain’t even close,” he told you, pulling you off of him and sitting, legs swung over the edge of the bed, feet planted on the ground. He grabbed you, letting you straddle his lap before slamming you down on his length. At this angle he could get impossibly deeper, his dick easily reaching your cervix on every thrust. You screamed, holding onto him for dear life with your face buried in his neck.

“Gonna fill you until you’re full, and then some,” he promised, lifting you up and down, flexing that super strength. “Rub on that pretty clit for me, doll,” he asked. You tried, you really did, but you were just so sensitive.

“That’s okay, I’ll do everything for you, you just take it like a good slut,” he cooed, bringing a hand between the two of you and rutting on your clit without abandon. You came again with a wail of his name before he pistoned into you sloppily, finally spilling his own release into you. And it was messy, and you were far too full to keep going, but he doesn’t care, somehow still hard even though he had just painted your walls with his thick, sticky cum.

You were babbling at this point, raking your nails against him as he kept going to town on your cunt.

“It’s just been too long, baby,” he explained, kissing the side of your head. “Got a little too much energy.” Yeah no shit, with the way that you knew that you were not going to be able to walk.

But he just couldn’t seem to shut up. “Y’know, if I had you back in my day we would’ve had ten kids. You would’ve give birth to one and then I’d put another one in you the next month,” he said as he continued his brutal pace. And damn, this man really had a breeding kink. It was not really your thing-kids tend to get in the way of careers, and also, you were infertile- but anything’s hot when it comes out of those plush lips with the 50s accent, so, naturally, you moan in response.

“Would’ve kept you sated all the time too, sweetheart. Any time you were hot and bothered, had an attitude… I’d fuck it out of you,” he murmured, enveloping you in his arms to hold you closer. You didn’t know if it’s the proximity to him, his voice, or the way that he hasn’t really let you come down from any of your highs, but suddenly you were coming again… just in a different way.

“Aww baby, did you just squirt?” he chuckled. You did all you can to further hide your face in his neck as he just kept going, only concious enough to register your embarrassment and fatigue. He pulls you by your hair to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart, that was so hot.” You smiled, cheeks pink, your somehow still horny self proud of his compliment.

“It’s okay, just give me one more and you’ll be done, alright?”

“O-okay,” you say shakily. You hadn’t even noticed hot much your legs were quivering until then, and he laughed, squeezing them close.

“You’re so cute, y’know that?” he praised, rubbing your clit. Your blush became even more furious before you came again at him tracing patterns into your poor, overstimulated, sensitive bud. He came in you shortly after with a very sexy grunt, and it was just leaking out of you, going all over the tops of his thighs. He held you at the base of his cock though, not ready to pull out.

“You alright, Dollface?” he asked, gingerly moving- somehow while keeping his cock in you- you onto your back. You nodded, sleepiness overtaking you.

“Good girl,” he nuzzled your nose, gifting you the view of all of the pretty freckles on his cheeks looking like gold specs. You whined as he pulls out, and he tutted, plugging you up with his fingers.

“Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. If you were a supe we’d be going another ten rounds, but I know you’re tired,” he warned, cock still semi-hard.

“Ben,” you gestured towards it, unsure what you were going to say because as much as you wish you had his stamina, you didn’t.

“It’ll be fine, sweets,” he shrugged it off. “Perks of the unbelievable stamina.” He kissed your forehead, before lightly thrusting his fingers in and out of you in attempt to keep the cum in. Pitiful tears leaked out of the corner of your eyes from the overstimulation.

“There, there,” he cooed, kissing them away. “Just don’t want to waste any,” he smirked, before leaving his long, thick fingers where they were inside you, all the way up to the knuckle. Your legs can’t stop shaking, and you try to talk but you can’t.

“Let me get you some water, put your fingers here for me,” he said, waiting until you do so, feeling your sticky release on your hand. You knew damn well that you werenot going to be able to stand.

“Here, sweets,” he returned, still ass naked, holding a glass, taking your fingers out of your cunt and licking them clean. “We taste real good, sugar.” You whimpered, ready to go at it again, abused pussy be damned. Speaking of, the poor cleaning staff… your mixed releases were dripping out of your poor hole, coating the bed and the bottom of your thighs in the stickiness.

“You really are an insatiable little minx,” he chuckled, holding you up so you can take a sip of the water. You obliged, eagerly chugging it down.

“I’m not going to be able to walk,” you muttered, resting your head on his freckled shoulders.

“Looks like you’re going to need to stick around, so I can take care of you,” he squeezed you.

“I’ll tell Hughie to take another hour, tell him that the therapy’s going real well,” you suggested.

“Oh yeah, real well. Definitely a happy ending, if you catch my drift.”

“Multiple happy endings.”

“Atta girl,” he kisses the top of your head.

You sat there in silence for a bit, basking in the afterglow as he rocked you back and fourth gently.

You’d seen so many sides to this man: Misogynistic, quick tempered, sex-god… but sweetness? This was the one that surprised you. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

“Ben?” you broke the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Uh, I could help you, y’know. If you want, anyway. And it wouldn’t even be proper therapy- you know, cause we just- yeah.” your words were shaky but you meant them. There was something about the supe that made you think that maybe, just maybe you could help him.

“I dunno, sweets. I think I’m a little too far gone.”

Vulnerability. That’s progress.

“Could you at least try?”

“I can’t say no to you,” he said. And you’d take him up on that.

••••••••••••A Couple Years Later••••••••••••

Ben Johnson, as he was now known, ended up becoming a normal member of society. After a LOT of work, he’s grown into himself. He cares about people, his ego’s lessened, his temper too. You had helped him through the whole way- gotten him a proper therapist and everything. And now you two were a couple who could just go out and get donuts, and do normal couple things.

“They’re cream-filled!” he beams boyishly, his bangs in his face and his eyes sparkling. He sets the box down in front of you, somehow having already gotten powdered sugar in his beard. He leans in and whispers excitedly, “you know, like you!”

“You’re bad,” you giggle, as if you don’t have him leaking out of you where you sit. You had stopped for a quickie before you made it to the donut shop, it wasn’t your fault that you were so irresistible to each other.

“Not anymore, sweetheart,” he winks with a click of the tongue. Which is true- there’s a certain softness to him these days. His jaw isn’t so set, the crow’s feet by his eyes have deepened. He isn’t so volatile, his tempers dissolved a bit. He’s become more human.

Not to mention that he’s made great progress in apologizing to his victims and making amends to the best of his ability. It may never be enough, but now that he has someone to teach him how to be right and a better understanding of the complexities of the modern world, there’s a chance. And that’s a chance worth taking, to help someone who could’ve been good become good.

Taming Soldier Boy was a feat that should have been impossible, but you had nailed it.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hope you enjoyed this fic! If you have any ideas for headcanons or fics, my ask box is always open! I don’t bite- not unless you want me too 😏 (so. So. Sorry 😭)

Xx!

[idioticstar]

I'm partially glad that Obey Me is ending because the writing is not great. With the many plot holes and unanswered questions, the story can be hard to navigate. Mammon's character as a whole, being the comic relief as a whole and visibly a poc, that the writers use as a personal punching bag despite having so much to him. Mammon has familiars of crows, based off how much he likes a person, they find themselves with riches or plain on broke, and oversees all types of Greed. Any human with a pact with him has amazing luck. AND THEY NEVER MENTIONED IT AGAIN??? Lesson 16 as a whole and how its never mentioned again??? And MC isn't traumatized from literally dying??? Belphegor can literally trap people in their dreams, create a literal dimensioned for dreams that he can control and send others there??? NEVER MENTIONED AGAIN. The fact that Diavolo's skin color is so inconsistent that it's treated as a fandom joke (He gets darker when he's in his demon form???) and not a product of colorism like where's his color palate??? Also the fact that Diavolo is insanely overpowered and his abilities and rarely mentioned (Being able to stop time???). He is considered an anomaly to demons because of his minor healing magic, which demons cannot do. We still have a few lessons of Nightbringer left and I still have a few questions about other characters such as Micheal, Lilith, the Demon King and Diavolo's mother. I don't know how they are going to fit all this.

[risuola]

Please hear me out!

i’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I wanted to write it myself but I can’t write for shit 😭 Here’s my idea, reader (she/her) is close friends with Satoru and Suguru. She takes Suguru’s place instead, and Suguru ends up not going insane, and decides to stick around in Jujutsu High. But because the reader takes his place in this story, she spirals and abandons the idea of being morally good. (She’s a sensitive softie at heart 🥹 the cruel reality of being a sorcerer really took a toll on her). She commits so many crimes that the higher ups urge the strongest duo to finally execute her after dismissing her for nearly a decade. She dies in their hands, and doesn’t get a proper burial. Kenjaku takes her body and uses it as vessel. When Shibuya arc finally unfolds, she shows up right in front of Satoru and Suguru, alive and well. Soon reveals that it’s Kenjaku who has full control of her body. Of course their guilts eats them alive, and the reader (more like kenjaku) rubs salt on their wounds by taunting them about how she’s a great vessel and also a waste that she had to die so soon.

LOST CAUSE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU + GETO SUGURU, but there’s no romance whatsoever, guest appearance of Kenjaku

cw: an au where SatoSugu have another close friend; spoilers for Hidden Inventory/Premature Death arc and the very beginning of Shibuya arc, so much angst and the usual that comes with JJK – blood, hurt, tears and depression : D also, possibly inaccurate references to the original plot, reader's death — 5,5k words

a/n: I’m hearing you out dear! Thank you for the conception, it certainly fulfilled my need to write long and angsty <3

It was stupid. All of it was stupid. Why? Which decisions led you to where you now stood, all of your mind and body filled with devastation as you stilled in time – above the piles of little corpses, disfigured and permanently contorted in a grimace of dread and suffering. A stench of blood and burned bodies irritated your nostrils, your eyes were teary from all the smoke that still was filling the air and as you looked down at your hands, they were covered in blood and purple goo. Sticky. Repulsive. And the screams. In the dead silence of your surroundings, your head was still filled with an echo of those, who were now dead at your feet. Those, who you were unable to save. The imagery of them running, begging, dying carved itself into your mind. Why were you here, again?

* * *

“Hey, y/n, you’ve lost some weight. Are you alright?”, Satoru asked, playing with pencil that just a moment ago he asked you to throw at him. A showcase of his new skills, the techniques he’s been perfecting for the last year after encountering Toji Fushiguro. You forced a smile, squinting from the blinding sun of the summer at its peak.

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, patting Suguru’s shoulder, because his attentive eyes were scanning you already for any sign of disorder; you could hear his analytic brain cranking up, his golden pupils drilling holes in your head. “I’m good, it’s just too hot you know?”

“Wanna go grab some ice cream later?”

“Always.” No, you didn’t wanna go grab ice cream with them. You didn’t wanna grab anything with anyone for that matter and already you had come up with some half-baked excuse to sell later to your two best friends.

You, Shoko, Gojo and Geto were all in the same year in Jujutsu high. You joined them a little late, but quickly found yourself inside the love triangle with the two boys. You called it love, but it truly was nothing more than just a bonding friendship that you wished will last forever; a really close one and you couldn’t imagine your world without their chaos. They were like brothers to you, the ones you’ve never had and Ieiri was like a sister, but she was smart enough to keep her distance from the mess of SatoSugu. You were not as bright in that matter, but for two years, you couldn’t appreciate enough the yin and yang that they created, the casual bickers and deep talks late at night, the cuddles and pinches, the pats and smacks, the tears and laughs, sleepovers, sleepless nights and everything between. You loved them, you couldn’t think of your future without them.

That’s until not that long ago. Few months, maybe. You felt like you’ve been spiraling slowly into something that could only be named depression, because if not that, then what else? Why would you randomly tear up nowadays, zoning out completely in the midst of sentences. Why would you spend nights, blankly staring at the ceiling instead of sleeping, isolating yourself from your friends more and more? And why would you still hear that? The screams, the pleads of hysteric, the soul-tearing sounds of pain and frighten that you’ve been carrying inside your brain since that one mission.

Everything went wrong then, and you were alone. Shoko stayed at the campus, working her way towards becoming a doctor and you, Satoru and Suguru were assigned only to solo missions since the plasma vessel failure. You were strong, it was stated that your year was exceptional, that all of you have a chance to become special grades soon, but you hated that. Being strong came with a burden that you were not ready to take, and when you realized that, most of it was already heaving on your shoulders.

When you got to that school, it was already too late and it wasn’t your fault. You rushed there as soon as you were assigned with the job, but when you dropped the curtain and looked at the building, there was already smoke coming from the window holes, that some time earlier had glass in them. And when you kicked your way inside the little indoor sports arena, the view struck you in ways you couldn’t possibly prepare yourself for and certainly, you couldn’t process it as well. The school was primary, those people were just kids, but the curses pay no mind to age of their victims. This one was particularly playful – or rather, eagerly violent – spreading hellfire around, burning these children alive one by one, causing chaos, suffering and bloodshed. When you finished exorcising it, it was over. For the curse, for your job and for the lives of all of those children. None survived. Not even one.

Not always we can save everyone, Suguru always told you, rationalizing the sacrifices sorcerers have to make and you tried to repeat that in your head when you got out. You tried to play it over the screams, but eventually, the soft tone of your friend’s voice got lost in the catastrophic cacophony of sorrow, sizzling skin and burning death. And that, maybe wouldn’t be enough for you to lose your mind. Maybe you could recover from that, but soon after the incident you witnessed the group of people that stood behind the assault. A band of grown humans, men and women, who were convinced some of those children were possessed by devils or some other shit, so in all hypocrisy known to race, they hired a curse user to fight fire with fire. Quite literally. Those people were so blinded by their fear of unknown that they sacrificed lives of dozens of little children, they shattered so many innocent lives only because they believed in something absurd. And then, they tried to push the blame on you, on sorcerers despite the fact they hired one to do the dirty job. And then, they killed the user, fearing him too. When you’ve got to see the body of a sorcerer that you’ve never got to meet, or at least you thought so, you realized that probably, you wouldn’t recognize him anyway. You’ve seen corpses barely reminiscing of humans, twisted and broken as curses often chose the most petrifying, violent ways of killing, but this? This was something you’ve never seen before – a cruel, ruthless exhibition of pure hate, evidence of deliberate torture, the picture painted in stabs, burns and bruises. All of which, caused by people, who frankly, showed no remorse nor regret as their faces were painted in pride, origin of which you failed to notice.

Those humans. Used jujutsu to commit mass murder only to blame it on your people and kill them. Animals. No. Worse. Much worse.

“Y/n, please, let’s talk it through,” Suguru tried to reason, as you stood up against the two of your friends, in the middle of Shibuya’s scramble crossing. People were passing next to the three of you, unbothered by the way your worlds were colliding right here, in the busiest part of Tokyo. People didn’t care of others, they wouldn’t react if someone next to them would get stabbed to death, only caring about their own shoes to not get them stained in the dirt of blood.

“Don’t be stupid, it’s not who you are,” Satoru raised his tone, but all you felt was nothing. The emotions you’ve seen on his face were real, you knew it. Satoru wears his heart on his shoulder, he pours everything he feels into the words he aims at people that are close to his soul, and you were no exception, but at this moment, you felt nothing. “I know you couldn’t do that.”

“Couldn’t I?”, you asked, thinking back on the last Friday, during which you executed those same people that used jujutsu sorcerers to wipe the floors of that primary school. To wipe the blood and burned bodies. You remember how they knelt before you, how the women cried begging for their lives, yelping that they have children, families and yet, those same children and families were nowhere in their mind when they ordered a mass murder in the primary school. “And why would that be exactly? Because you two think so?”

“Y/n, I get it,” Geto stepped forward, but stopped as you glanced at him. “I really do. You know me, we talked about it. It was hard for me too after Riko, I know what you’re going through.”

“I know Suguru.”

“I thought you keep his side, y/n,” Gojo threw his hands in the air, helplessly trying to find the words to dress his mind with. “I thought you believe in doing good with your powers. That people won’t understand so we shouldn’t look at them and just do what we do. Wasn’t that what you’ve told me?”

“I did, yes,” you gave it a nod and exhaled. “But it changed. Yes, they won’t understand. Anything that they can’t comprehend is pure evil for them and yet they believe in such absurd like gods. They will use us to do their dirty works and then blame us for it, because they cannot understand a single thing. And then, they will kill us, one by one and we, the strongest, cannot do nothing about it. We’ll have to go through life through the corpses of our friends. People don’t deserve what we do for them.”

“Y/n, please, let’s talk about it. Let’s get back to school-“ Geto tried, but you cut him off.

“You two, get back to school. I know I have a sentence already, there’s no point for me to get back there only to get executed. And frankly, I don’t want to get back there, to take part in what they teach us is right when we die for those people. We give our lives for them and they have no idea,” you said, taking a step back. You could tell the lights will soon switch. “Look around, Satoru, Suguru. They crawl around us unaware of our sacrifice and yet, even if they are so fragile a single blow can kill them, they think we deserve to be killed. I’m not gonna take part in this anymore. I’m sorry.”

“We can’t let you go, you know that, we-“

“Then attack me. I’m sure any of you can take me down. I’d rather die by your hands, than on a job of protecting them.”

You turned your back on them, and Satoru raised his hand, pointing at your silhouette, blue already on his mind as his cursed energy gathered in front of his fingers. Suguru’s curses sprawled out of their dimension, but none of them pursued with the attack, unable to do that. They couldn’t kill you. You were too dear to them. They loved you too much to take your life like this. So they let you go, and soon enough, they lost the sight of you in the crowd.

* * *

Nine years. It's been almost a decade and many things changed. You changed your ways completely, making a point of protecting sorcerers from people, even if that meant killing them, but care for humans was something you’ve lost many years ago, having it slowly replaced by disgust. Your once soft heart turned hard and dark and all the good in you vanished as you time after time solidified your beliefs that humans are simply not worth saving, therefore there was no need to keep them alive the moment they became useless. Over those years, you used those people to your benefit, raising money and gathering intel and then, the second their use to you has become nonexistent, so were them. Blood burned permanent stains on your hands but screams of hurt didn’t phase you at all. Have you become a monster? You might have. But for the lives of sorcerers, it was worth it.

It’s been almost a decade since you’ve been dismissed from jujutsu community for crimes, that over those years piled up rapidly and during this time, both Satoru and Suguru tried to stay out of this, whilst Yaga turned a blind eye to the corrupted path one of his students went down by. The now principal felt responsible for not doing enough, for not saying enough, for not noticing soon enough and though the rest of his students, now teachers in Jujutsu high told him that some things were inevitable, it wasn’t that easy to switch off the thinking. Same went for both the strongest, but for years, they waited in hopes for something to change.

That was until you killed someone seemingly important. A politician of sorts, high government pawn that you learned was funding a unit of so-called sorcerer killers, ones that modelled after Toji Fushiguro in cold blood were meant to take down a menace that jujutsu users were, as if it was them who were the ones to fear. Opposite to little no-one’s deaths, this one was loud, this one was medial and this one, Yaga couldn’t let slip. So, an order was given.

Kill on sight.

Almost ten years, and yet Satoru still couldn’t believe what happened. Whilst young, the three of you were almost inseparable and you, out of the whole group, were the most sensitive person he knew. You were soft and full of smiles, kind above all else and yet, you were strong enough to hold back the tears he knew were threatening to roll down your cheeks on many occasions. You were soothing, an oasis that was easily able to turn any darkness into light, and what Satoru couldn’t forgive himself was that once that same darkness started devouring you, he didn’t notice. Too focused on his own missions, on lighthearted shenanigans, on perfecting his usage of limitless and six eyes, he had no idea about your state of mind and when he realized, you have already been sentenced. Suguru didn’t notice either. Or maybe didn’t want to notice, because you talked through many nights about the doubts you both had. He knew about the utter devastation that was slowly consuming your soul but hoped you’ll overcome it, because you always were a sunshine, and a sunshine couldn’t die down to shadows. Turned out, this shadow was pitch black and no light made its way through it.

“Y/n,” they called you and the beautiful music that their voices created brought back memories of your youth. Ten years, almost, had passed since you’ve seen your best friends the last time, and with curiosity sparkling through your system, you turned to face them.

“Satoru, Suguru,” addressing them, your lips curved up slightly in a manner of soft joy. Your heart fluttered at the sight; your pulse raised just as it would for person who’s just seen the love of their life. “Long time no see.”

“It’s not as pleasurable as we would like it to be, y/n,” Suguru sighed and you took a moment to absorb the view.

Both of them changed. Suguru, still tall and broad, seemingly even buffier than he was before stood there with his hair now longer and partially knotted and partially left loose on his back. His facial features sharpened, jaw got more edge to it, eyes turned more narrow and focused, but still, some softness remained from what you remembered and probably he would seem even more familiar if not for the tough expression he had going on. Satoru, right next to him, became even taller. His white hair was now pointing up, kept by a white wrap that completely covered his eyes – something that he probably adapted during the time of usage of his six eyes. Not much of his face you could see, but with ease you noticed his features matured. Both were dressed in uniforms that you could only tie to their unbreakable bond with Jujutsu high.

“You’re now teachers, the two of you, huh?”, you asked, smiling softly, but keeping their moves in mind. “I’ve heard this year’s students are exceptional, now it makes sense. Good they have such amazing senseis.”

“You could have been one of the teachers too,” Gojo snapped.

“How could I teach anyone something I don’t believe in?” a chuckle rumbled deep in your chest as you thought of the image. Abstraction of it made you amused. “How’s Shoko? Is she a doctor now?

“She is,” Geto muttered, unsure why is he answering your questions. “Yaga is the principal.”

“Oh, is he? Look at him, climbing up that ladder,” you laughed, “so, it’s on his orders that you two are here?”

“You killed a fucking politician, y/n,” Satoru spoke, sounding calm but you could tell his blood was boiling. Both of his hands hidden in his pockets were visibly clenched in fists and even though you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew his brows were furrowed. “Almost a decade we allowed you to do whatever you tried to do, but this time, higher ups stepped in. The sentence is decided, we cannot let you pursue your goals further.”

“And why are you both here? I’m sure just one amazing special grade would be enough,” there was a certain amount of poison in your words, though it wasn’t directed at your friends and both of them knew it. “Are the higher ups so desperate to get me off the board because it’s them who give green lights to those assholes that kill us? Did you know that that pathetic politician I’ve killed was in midst of creating an army of little Toji Fushiguros? How do you think he even knew about the dude, huh?”

“An army of Toji?”

“Yeah, remember that guy, that cut both of you into slices? Yea, that one. And who’s giving away the cursed tools to said army? Well, it’s not me and I assume not any of you as well.”

 “Y/n,” Suguru made his way to the side in what seemed like an attempt on surrounding you, because in that same moment, Satoru began shifting to the other side. “I agree with you. People don’t deserve what we do. But no one else can do it. You’re killing those whom we swore to protect.”

“Tell me, Suguru… how many bodies of our friends did Shoko cut open?” you asked and the question made the dark-haired man tsk. It was the truth that hurt the most, he hated how precisely it hit the spot. “How many of our allies were spread across her metal table after Haibara was there? Well, half of Haibara?”

“That’s not the point,” Satoru scoffed and with an exhale, he raised his hand up to loosen up the bandages around his eyes. “We die just as people die. Sorcerers are not above death. You know that, right?”

“We’re not above that, but we are above people and we risk our lives, which we just like them have only one of, for them. And they fuckingstep on it. If I have to pick who’s gonna die from a curse, why would I pick a sorcerer, when a loss of a mere human will be much less tangible than the loss of one of us?”

“Because they cannot protect themselves from curses, and we can.” Geto replied and in a whiff, you felt the appearance of his curses around him. Both him and Gojo were getting ready for a fight, so you had to get ready as well.

“But can we really protect ourselves from them?”, you glared back at him; your tone calm but laced with icicles that pierced through Suguru’s mind as he struggled to see you inside of you.

All of the softness he had always equated you with dissolved into something he couldn’t quite place. Image of you killing someone just for the sake of killing somehow couldn’t materialize inside his mind and it pained him, breaking his heart to think that he will be the reason of your death. And it’s true that probably, just one of them would be enough for that fight, but there was no way they would be able to chose and no one else could do it. You were the strongest, you grew into a special grade quickly after leaving and your technique proved to have no flaws or holes. You were a threat above abilities of others, stepping down only to the two of your friends, if not being equal to them.

“Let’s do it quickly, Suguru,” Satoru sighed, tucking his wraps into one of his pockets.

“Oh, where’s your playful attitude, Satoru?”, you teased, but somehow it hurt you as well. It was your friend you were talking to. Both of them, that came here to kill you and only way for you to get out of it was to kill them.

And killing them, turned out, you couldn’t do. Even hurting them came with difficulty not physically, but mentally. But you fought them both at the same time, keeping a defensive stance, searching for an opening to vanish. From them, you wished to run away, to not make them take the burden of your death because you could see it in their eyes, you were just as dear to them still, as they were to you. But they left you no opening to run away, so you fought. Using everything you’ve got to immobilize them, because instead of taking their lives, that would give you more time.

The way you stood against them, with your cursed technique of energy manipulation, it gave them the hardest time since Toji, and considering they were both taking part in the fight now, ten years after and significantly stronger, just showed how much work you’ve put into your own development. And with pride you noticed, how strong both of your friends became as well. You countered all of their attacks, slashed away the curses and blocked the blues and reds, albeit it really was a matter of time and you knew that. And so, you pushed through, materializing in your hands weapons made from pure, solidified cursed energy, using swords and needles and creating armor around your body that effectively, shielded you from any attack. Your weapon was different from cursed tools. It was made only from energy, strong and unbendable, changing shapes and forms as you deemed it necessary, allowing you to use it in close combat and on long distances. Any curses Suguru summoned stood no chance against what you wielded, but the sheer amount of them was just short of overwhelming you. On top of that, Satoru’s constant offensive, his fists saturated in limitless abilities, the sheer strength of both bodies that were attacking you, slowly rendered you weaker. And it didn’t surprise you.

The end has come when one of the curses stopped you mid-way, engaging in a fight that distracted you enough for a hollow purple to reach your body. The blast threw you away as your body pierced through three buildings straight, through thick concrete bocks and hard steel reinforcements like it was tearing through wet paper and it’s only thanks to the full body coverage of your cursed technique, that it didn’t kill you on the spot. But it hurt. All of your body felt broken once you finally stopped, back pressed against the wall that still cracked underneath the impact of your frame hitting it. Blood covered your vision and a cough shook your body with painful wave overtaking your entire nervous system.

“So that’s the infamous hollow purple, huh?”, you muttered, leaning your head back against the cold solid behind you. There wasn’t much in your body that wouldn’t be fractured at least, you could tell without a mistake that your heart was still beating only because of the cursed energy that still circled throughout your frame.

Both men appeared in front of you, jumping from above – Suguru coming from one of his flying curses and Satoru, probably just teleported here.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” Gojo whispered, squatting in front of you and Geto followed his motion to level his vision with yours.

“’ts alright, ‘toru,” you muttered, feeling the dizziness taking the best of you. After the hit you took, you were certain not even a genius like Shoko could save you. “Sugu… both so strong.”

Exchanging a quick glance, both sorcerers sat down, on your sides, paying no mind to the puddle of blood underneath you. They took your hands, so small in comparison to theirs, now red and wounded severely, but the pain you couldn’t feel much of anymore.

“I’m sorry I didn’t take this mission for you. Back in our days. It was meant to be mine, but I was training,” Satoru confessed, squeezing lightly the fractured bones in your palm, reminiscing of the day that was the beginning of your end. The elementary. That day engraved itself in his memory as one of many days that seemingly mattered nothing. Yaga told him about the issue, the curse and fire in school for the youngest, but he brushed it off, focusing all of his mind on perfecting the last touches of his technique. He still remembers how sensei was mumbling profanities, but couldn’t care less because he was that close from teleporting.

“’ts okay, ‘toru.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there either,” Suguru added, his voice barely a whisper as you leaned your head against his shoulder, desperate to ease the heaviness. What Geto remembered from the day in question was that he had an issue with his own technique. Little difficulty, as he was absorbing one of the special grade curses he just caught. It wasn’t severe, it wasn’t even that important, he could have fix this on another time and take the god damn mission, but instead, he declined. “I thought if I don’t take the job, Satoru will, but turned out, it got to you.”

“Sugu, ‘ts ok.”

“Remember how we used to sneak out the dorms to get ice cream in the middle of the night?”, Satoru changed the topic completely – a defensive mechanism to lighten up the mood, to prevent him from crying. And you hummed in response, lowering your heavy lids.

“And how Satoru got drunk after three sips of a beer? That’s when we all knew he’s the lightest head in the history,” Suguru added and faded images of how Gojo discovered that he cannot drink to save his life rushed to the front of your mind.

You had no idea how long it took, was it few minutes or merely few seconds, but you listened to both men rambling above your head, reminiscing of your school days and everything that you did together. Of every prank you witnessed that they took on poor first years, of every little mischief and menace they performed, following Satoru’s lead, because it’s always him who stood tall in the name of chaos. You were humming softer and softer, quieter and quieter.

Until you were not.

“And then we put those cupcakes in Nanami’s bed and-“

“Satoru,” Geto cut him softly, looking down at your stilled frame. At your frozen chest and softened features, sensing no more heartbeat. And Gojo turned his eyes towards you as well, taking in the last picture of you, who he loved as his little sister, even though there was no age gap between you and him. And then they both cried in silence, spending another hour with your dead body before gathering you and taking home.

* * *

October 31, 2018

21:18

Only word that could describe what was happening in Shibuya at this moment would be chaos. Pure disorder, people frightened and running, some unconscious on the ground and some other hiding from what was happening in the Shibuya station. Most of them couldn’t see it but felt the terror, saw the blood, smelled the death in the middle of which, two men were standing.

Both Satoru and Suguru, when they came down here to fight whatever the hell was attacking people, couldn’t move; their heads void of any logical thoughts as memories rushed to the fronts of their minds. Stunned to the core and frozen, they looked into the eyes of the person in front of them, distrusting their own vision. The person that wore the familiar look of you, the energy of you and what seemed like – the same cursed technique, and voice, and face, and hair, and everything. Not one thing betrayed trickery or deception as there you stood, facing them both with a smile on your face – one of those soft ones that had melted their hearts on the spot a decade before. Your features relaxed, genuine, borderline joyous as you breathed the air around them once again.

“What…?”, Suguru snapped first, forcing his own body to move and smacking his friend’s shoulder. “How?”

“Who the hell are you…?”, Satoru whispered, voice stuck in his throat as all of the information that his senses were receiving contradicted with what his soul was telling him.

“Aah? It’s been few months, but do you not recognize me anymore?”, your voice flew through your mouth, the very same gentle and bright tone they used to fall asleep to. “It’s hurting my feelings.”

“Cut it,” Gojo snapped, now putting more pressure on his vocal cords, a groan escaping his throat in effect. “Cut the bullshit, you’re not her. You cannot be her. Y/n is-“

“Dead? Yeah, that purple really messed me up,” you chuckled, shrugging your shoulders slightly and stepping forward. “I have to admit, restoring the body wasn’t the easiest of all.”

“Reveal yourself,” Geto took the defensive stance, ready to pursue with attack if needed and his curses floating behind him on standby. “You’re not fooling us.”

“Ah, how stubborn,” another laugh brightened your face, only now more menacing, more teasing as your dainty fingers reached up to gather the lose hair out of your forehead, revealing a line of thin stitches across your skin there. “See, you really did me a favor by burying her body oh-so traditionally. Isn’t that the procedure to burn every deceased sorcerer?” your mouth was moving, spilling the words interlaced with taunt as the, what looked like, thread was pulled out of the horizontal line above your eyebrows and soon after, grabbed by the hair, the top of your head was lifted, revealing the terrifying image of a brain. With mouth of its own.

“What did you do to her?!”

“Oh, I just took what you two threw away,” you replied, slowly putting the upper skull part down on its place, matching the lines as the thread went through the holes by itself, securing the head together. “And I have to thank you for your little sentiment. If not for that, I wouldn’t have my perfect vessel. Ah, but it’s sad, isn’t it? Such a young, pretty girl had to die so early, and more so, killed by her own best friends. What a waste to jujutsu community, don’t you think?”

Both the boys stood there in shock, guilt eating them alive as the salt and acid was being rubbed into the wounds that just opened. The scabs of the past were ripped away, revealing the gushing pain and Satoru growled in anger, realizing that once again, he might have been responsible for what happened to you. This time, Suguru kept up with him in terms of fury, feeling his own blood boiling in his veins, unable to watch your body being possessed like this, used like a toy.

“Y/n, I know you’re there-“ Gojo called, but got stopped quickly by another pilfering laugh.

“Oh, but she’s not. Her soul is long gone and dead. You made sure to have her soul dead, and you have to know I nearly teared up reviewing her memories when I took the body. Such a poignant story, oh, so heartbreaking.” The teasing had no end as more and more poisonous venom spilled through your mouth, contradicting the carefree and joyful tone of your voice.

“What makes you believe that even if you take her body, you can win here? We’ve defeated her already,” Suguru narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, you’ve won but that’s because she let you two won. Wasn’t that surprising how easily you finished her? A special grade? How she didn’t even try to dodge the hollow purple, like the little curse that she was fighting with was really that much of a struggle? Oh, don’t be silly, you two. It wouldn’t be that easy if she tried.”

“We won’t let you-“

“You must understand your situation. What you’re standing in is a special grade cursed object. A prison realm, and to say it simply, you’ve already lost,” you pointed at the floor, from where the four corners of a cube stretched into a mass of flesh, with an eye – giant and bleeding, staring at its target, as the next stage of sealing began before either of sorcerers reacted. “And what’s more interesting, the prison realm can seal only one person at the time, but with the incredible technique of my current host, I was able to fuel its capacity to two occupants, by manipulating the cursed energy it used. Marvelous!”

The cursed object began enveloping both men, rendering them helpless and immobile, as their cursed energy became unavailable for their use.

“We’ll save you, y/n, you hear me?”, Satoru yelled in unison with his friend and the lone tear rolled down your face, before your hand reached up wiping it in amusement.

“Gate close.”

[nct-krown]

‘ 𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝙼𝙰𝙽𝚈 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴𝚂 𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙻𝙸𝚅𝙴 𝙰 𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝙸𝙽𝚂𝙰𝙽𝙸𝚃𝚈? ’

PLOT hyunjin and jade were stuck in a vicious cycle that trapped the in a house of glass. until everything finally shatters around them

CHARACTERS hwang hyunjin ˒ jade-bella li ˒ gina liu

mention of mimi ( @inter-stellar-jyp ) & haechan of nct

WORD COUNT 2.1k

GENRE straight up angst

a/n this is entirely from hyunjin’s pov to try explore their dynamic in a way that would better highlight jades toxic and borderline abusive nature.

TW/ contains slight violence and abusive language. heavily explores toxic relationships. please proceed with caution.

[ nov ‘21 ]

being around jade was draining.

hyunjin knew that that’s not what a good boyfriend would say when talking about spending time with the person they’re in love with , but it was true. he always felt absolutely drained of life when he was around her for too long.

without fail any genuinely romantic and heartfelt moment they’d had was ruined before he could even bask in the warmth of it. and 9 times out of 10 it wasnt hyunjin ruining the mood, it was jade and she was at it again. all it took was a notification to set her off as if they hadn’t just been staring into each others eyes whispering how they loved each other more than words could describe. as soon as he felt the shift in her mood he found himself compulsively opening his phone to check the time or for a text from the members- the only messages she’d accept - that would force him to leave early.

hyunjin knew what they had wasn’t what love was supposed to feel like. when they were good it felt leven better than any love song could describe but when they were bad they were cataclysmic. and so he still found himself dreading the time he got to spend with her. he knew that the way that they fought wasn’t healthy, it took him an embarrassingly long time to actually acknowledge that. the fact that they spent most nights fighting and fucking, was not normal. he knew because they weren’t always like this. but he had come to accept that that was how they were. and he just needed to adapt to jade and tread lightly. but that wasn’t okay … and he was starting to go crazy.

he was living in a loop, arguing about the same thing over and over with the same points and same reactions every time. how many times could one person live the same scenario before it was considered insanity.

“are you just gonna sit there and stare at me hyunjin? who is mimi and why is she checking if you’re still coming?” jade snapped her fingers in his face, breaking him out of the daze he’d fallen into. his frustration threatened to fade as he looked over her again. her face was pretty as always but the scowl on it seeped with venom. that was what had his heart steadying. despite her beautiful eyes staring holes into his own he couldn’t live this insane cycle anymore.

“like i keep saying, mimi is just another idol at jyp.we hardly fucking speak ,” he spoke softly as he ran his hand through his long black hair. hyunjin genuinely felt like he was losing his mind. he was reliving the same moment over and over again with different girls he knew being thrown in each time.

this was nothing new for them. jade was constantly complaining about every minute thing hyunjin would do.honestly speaking hyunjin never actually did anything, it was always what jade thought he’d done. her conscience was constantly filling in blanks in a way that always made hyunjin look like a cheater and without fail he always disproved them. he would never do to her what she did to him.

there was even a time jade had tried to end his lifelong friendship with heeyoung over her sensing “bad vibes” and that had been almost 2 years ago. she did not care to listen to how she was the closest thing he’d had to a sibling. she hated heeyoung from the moment she met her and still did. heeyoung may have had a crush on him but they tried and never went beyond an awkward and awful kiss that no one even remembered. she refused to believe him and so she had become a forbidden topic. 2 years …they had been living this was for 2 whole fucking years.

“clearly you fucking do she called your fucking phone. do you think i’m stupid?”

hyunjin threw his face in his hands as he mumbled, “oh my god jade.” he groaned softly , throwing his head back. he just wanted to return to their comfortable cuddles, “can we not do this today? just come back to the bed.” he pleaded but jade was unfazed by his words.

“we’re only here because of you hyunjin. all you do is be disrespectful then get upset when i rightfully fucking call you out!”

hyunjin closed his eyes for a while before opening them slowly , “disrespectful? organizing to practice for my job is disrespectful?” his words came out more condescending than he intended and he knew how she would react.

“you’re actually so dumb hyunjin. why the fuck is it okay that mimi can call you at 8 fucking pm.”

he hated when she called him stupid or dumb and she knew that. he hated how she always undermined his intelligence despite him constantly achieving well in school. she would call him names whenever he upset her and it hurt him in a way he couldn’t move on from. someone who loved you would never say that.

“answer my fucking question hyunjin.” jade’s voice raised slightly , it was the type of detail only he could pick up on. she was about to lose it. and no matter how fed up he would get with jade seeing her so worked up never made him feel good.

jade let out a loud dramatic huff as she rolled her eyes, “so what you have nothing to say?”

“no jade i don’t!” he stared blankly at her. “she just wanted to talk about practice. what do you want me to do she’s my fucking colleague i can’t ignore her.” he stressed the word colleague growing unbearably irritated the longer they spoke.

jade folded her arms across her chest pressing against her boobs and making them pop out slightly. he didn’t mean to focus on them but jade always looked sexy when she was mad. which explained why these fights ended the way that they did. right now he hated that she was so hot. “if that’s true why the fuck does she have your number. colleagues don’t need your number.”

“how else is she supposed to contact me for practice.” he stressed the last word, unable to understand how she was reacting the way she was when the answer was so obvious. “jade have you not done a collab stage? you know what i’m talking about for fucks sake.” he’d given up on his usual calm approach. his exasperation was so obvious and jade hated when she could not bend conversations the way she wanted them to.

jade clicked her tongue as a response to the sass in his tone. “yeah and our staff organized it. it’s weird that you have her number hyunjin.”

hyunjin had grown tired of trying to de-escalate the situation. it was hard to not jab back when she was purposely pressing all of his buttons. she was purposely trying to break him the way she always did. convince him she was the only thing that made him worth anything but there’s only so much breaking he could take before shattering.

“oh ?me having my co workers number is weird?”

jade nodded her head dramatically as if to say ‘duh without words. that was enough to stop him from holding back. he was done.

“but you still having hyuck’s fucking number in your phone is totally normal right jade!”

the flood gates had opened.

the silence that followed was as loud and frightening as a clap of thunder.

jade rolled her eyes. “we’re in the same fucking group hyuni. ” she placed her hand on her hip as she stared down at him he sat on her bed. despite her affectionate name for him she was clearly trying to intimidate him with her stare. making him feel below her. “he’s actually my co worker. you bring this up every fucking time.”

hyunjin groaned loudly as he threw his arms up,“yeah jade cause you fucking cheated on me!” he yelled, feeling all his emotions overwhelm him once again.

jades jaw dropped as her eyes narrowed. trying to recover to not show him how his defiance had thrown her off she quickly clenched her jaw as her body tensed in a way only hyunjin would notice. and he always did. she was in defense mode.

“oh my god it was months ago, get over it”

it was now hyunjin’s turn for his jaw to drop. trying his best to keep his voice level he let out a long sigh as he got up from the bed. it groaned at the loss of weight on top of it.

“get over it?” he questioned quietly as he approached jade towering over her. he knew that their height gap- although usually adorable- was intimidating. it was clear that the atmosphere had shifted, their anger heightened as well as their mutual sexual attraction. jade saw the opportunity to wrap him back in her web and took it.

she softly placed her hands on his chest and attempted to shove him as it was a joke but he knew her true intentions. he barely moved. she tried 3 times following that. this time she could barely hide her anger. she quickly reset as she batted her eyelashes the way that always made his knees buckle. with a sultry smirk she stepped closer to him, “get the fuck over it!” she punctuated each word with a stab into his chest with her freshly manicured finger. she smiled sweetly as if she hadn’t just screamed the most disgusting words in his face.hyunjin wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug look off of jade’s face. how dare she.

the eye contact they held was intense. everything about them was intense. from their love to their sex and clearly to their fights. and neither of them could deny the sexual tension that bubbled between them but that day hyunjin refused to cave like he always did.

“hyuni…” she drawled out his nickname as she alluringly grabbed him by the pocket of his hoodie. she looked up at him with her signature sweet doe eyes. he was not going to fold even if the feeling of her right hand gently touching his cheek had the strings of his chest tug in the way that always reminded him that he loved her. he subconsciously leaned into her, their lips a whisper apart before she spoke.

“we can’t dwell on that forever…”

and just like that any sweetness he felt dissipated into thin air. he pulled his head away from her face so fast it caught the small girl by surprise. hyunjin shook his head as he gently removed her from his body. he can’t let the familiarity of their cycle trick him into staying again. it was taking away pieces of him and he had to do something about it.

without another word hyunjin grabbed his gym bag that he’d thrown carelessly on the floor when he entered. “what are you doing?” jade questioned as she watched him gather his belongings. “hello?” she attempted to gain his attention once again clapping loudly between the syllables of the word .

hyunjin refused to answer because he knew how this would end. she’d sweet talk him with her usual ‘i love you so much you make me crazy” and her intoxicating kisses making him ignore everything in an attempt to cling onto the glimmer of hope that they were still in love. it would end with him having to cancel on mimi and just to inevitably fight once again over whatever other tiny thing she’d nit pick at. and at the end of it all they’d make up after a round of life changing sex leaving hyunjin questioning everything .

he paused with his hand on her room door handle. his mind couldn’t help but run wild with all the images of him turning back to her and kissing her at the crown of her head as she wrapped her arms around him , eyes teary as she softly kissed him.before he could overthink it anymore, hyunjin swung open her room door not bothering to look back at her but by the sound of feet pattering behind him he knew she was following him.

“the silent treatment? really hyunjin? are we fucking 12?” she yelled as she followed him through her dorm not caring to be discreet. she was never one to care about on lookers often loving the spectacle of it all. there had been multiple occasions where she’d have outbursts with hyunjin always begging her to go somewhere private but it never worked. they were that couple.

hyunjin could hear doors opening as he paced towards the corridor. as he reached for the back door that he usually took to not be seen by any staff jade firmly gripped his wrist.

“if you walk out that door hyunjin i swear to god…” she warned between clenched teeth as her grip tighter, her stilleto nails digging into his skin, leaving deep dents and grooves behind.

“or what jade?” he sighed looking at her with a blank face. her face was red with anger, imaginary smoke coming out from her ears like a cartoon. yet she still looked so beautifully captivating. he wanted to look at her longer but he couldn’t be spellbound once again.

jade let out an angry huff out of her nose , “you’d be fucking stupid.” she spat the words in his face, his lack of reaction only worsened her already overwhelming anger.

he hated when she called him stupid. she knew that. hyunjin was a firm believer of love being worth fighting for , hence why him and jade had come to so many loud plate smashing blows yet he stayed. you have to fight for things that matter. but jade knew the words that hurt the most and constantly berated him with them. surely someone that loved you wouldn’t purposely try to hurt you… right?

hyunjin yanked his wrist out of her tight and lethal hold before staring directly into her sparkling eyes.

“guess i’m fucking stupid then.”

with that he swung the door open as jade screamed in frustration. “hwang hyunjin get back here right now! oh my god hyunjin! where the fuck are you even going?” her words came out muddled as her anger consumed her.

hyunjin said the sentence he knew would sting the most right now. she needed to hurt the way she constantly made him hurt. “i’m going practice with mimi.” he said calmly, not looking back as he descended down the staircase.

jade didn’t say anything but hyunjin could hear her incoherent yelling. before he could process anything hyunjin heard the sound of shattering glass giving him a fright and making him spin around faster than what felt humanly possible. his eyes focused on the stream of water that cascaded down the stairs like a tiny waterfall. jade had thrown the vase that held flowers he’d gotten for her down the stairs as she glared at him. he could tell she was crying by the way her eyes shone. the streaks down her cheeks were barely noticeable but he could see them as if they were highlighted.

hyunjin felt his heart shatter so loud he felt it ring in his ears. the flowers scatter around with shards of stained glass that he painted like the sunset. some shards landing right in front of his new converse sneakers. he felt the familiar sting in his eyes as he continued to just stare at the scene happening in front of him. did she mean to throw the base down the stairs because she didn’t care about his attempts at trying to bring them back to their old selves ? … or was she aiming at him and missed. either way he felt a sob get stuck in his throat but he swallowed it down. she couldn’t know she hurt him. that’s exactly what she wanted.

how could something that feels so perfect simultaneously feel like the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

he hadn’t even noticed how long they stood there just staring at each other until he faintly heard gina’s voice from within the dorm. “jade is everything okay?”

“perfect. she spat the words out with so much venom that hyunjin felt his skin burn just at the sound of them. hyujin nodded as he watched her slam the door shut leaving him alone in the stairwell of water, shattered glass and peonies. he felt as if any light inside him had vanished, leaving him just as dim as the light above him illuminating the dark stairwell. he was drained.

jade drained everything out of him.

[blue-grama]

The Sign finale probably should have disappointed me, but... didn't?

It's been a heck of a run lately with Thai BLs that haven't quite stuck the landing, and it's got me pondering why The Sign worked for me despite sometimes feeling like a storyboard for a longer, better show.

I don't think they pulled off the emotional payoff they needed, despite that last reunion scene being so pretty and well-acted, simply because too much happened offscreen, from Khem's recovery from a gunshot wound to the entire multlifetime Tharn/Chalothon dynamic getting resolved without us seeing any of it. But somehow I wasn't that mad about it? And ultimately I think it's because this show did so many things well and so many things I'd love to see more of that I'm just like, yep, I enjoyed that ride sirs, please show me something this gorgeous again. In that sense it's joining something like Manner of Death or Kinnporsche where it's like, plot holes? Yes. Bizarre tonal shifts? Absolutely. Occasionally insane writing choices? Uh-huh. Love it anyway? You betcha. So here's what really, really worked for me:

Premise

I am always going to be onboard with QL that isn't solely coming-of-age or coming out. I'm not against those stories, of course, but give me gay romance with adult characters who know themselves and are doing adult things. I'm also a partisan for romances with high external stakes, so the mixture of crime and reincarnation was catnip to me.

Do I care that none of this training makes any sense? No.

2. Setting

Listen. Is The Sign the reason I have a document on my laptop titled "Imaginary trip to Thailand without ever seeing a beach?" Not exactly. But it's also not not the reason.

I am being willingly manipulated by the Thai Tourism Authority.

Kidding, kidding, but I do love when my Thai shows feel Thai or my Korean shows feel Korean, etc etc. I want to be driven to Wikipedia to learn more! Half the fun of watching stuff from not your own country.

3. Chemistry

I think @biochemjess covered what was underwritten about the romance in The Sign. Billy and Babe carried it on their backs and it was hard to dislike their romance, even when the series skipped over key beats.

Any time the pink lighting came out, you were gonna be in for a good time.

4. The camerawork

I don't know enough about film to speak intelligently about this, but the camerawork and aesthetics of this show were just so lovely to watch. It was really doing a lot. @chaos0pikachu wrote about it better than I ever could.

LOVED THIS. LOVED IT. So good.

We had some really lovely storytelling and visual parallels, too, like the first episode and finale both having a big action warehouse scene, or the multiple times that Phaya and Tharn ended up overlooking the Mekong river.

5. It was always kinda off the rails

I know some people felt this show started out with a strong premise and didn't live up to it, but I gotta say, I didn't have that experience. It was always kinda a bonkers watch for me. There were long training montages, random bodies in the shallows, missing genitals, extended performance art, that comedy flashback to Khem and Thongthai's college years... I never knew what I was going to get each Saturday. And I kind of loved that? I'm into unhinged. I was comparing this in my head to Last Twilight, which did disappoint me in the end, and I think it's because Last Twilight was NOT always bonkers and DID set itself up to tell a straighforward story, then dropped the ideas it had been juggling in the last episode. The Sign always felt chaotic to me, so a chaotic ending was par for the course. This is where I'd compare it to KinnPorsche, which had the weirdest fucking ending, but like, okay??? Why not!

End result? I see the flaws, but I'm giving this show tender forehead kisses anyway. Here's hoping for more like it.

[anachronismstellar]

Airplane vs The system has reached 20k words, and yay, I'm happy, but also, I'm not gonna lie, I struggle to finish things when they get too big.

So, today I had to stop and go over all of it to figure out the timelines and where the scenes should go ( @notsofrozt has been the best helping me with this insanity I swear)

What I have so far are 22 scenes/parts, and I'm gonna need at least 12 more to wrap it up in a way that makes me happy (Send your prayers because oh boy ahahaha ahahah... *cries*)

Thing is, there's this one scene that I've written that... I'm afraid is not gonna make the final cut. :(

Yea yea we have to kill our darlings when writing stuff, but I love it too much to not show to you guys.

This is NOT Airplane vs The System canon, but I hope you enjoy the pain with me.

---

He could barely stand up as he reached the final room, the bright cold lights bathing the place in a frost that he couldn't grasp. Around him, tall metal towers grew from the ground, their tops too high from him to see, covered in what seemed to be colored stones, their sparkle coming and going in a way that spoke of witchcraft.

He forced himself to keep going, stumbling forward, wide eyed as he tried to find any sign of yellow robes, the glimpse of brown hair. He had lost count on how many steps he had taken, the flimsy metal platform under his feet shaking and squeaking, as if threatening to swallow him down in one bite.

He only stopped when he reached the very end, the far back wall of the room covered in writings that he couldn't understand. In front of it, the most surprising sight of a table, higher than Mobei-Jun had ever seen, and sitting in front of it as if the entire world wasn't falling apart was Shang Qinghua.

The hair was shorter than he had expected, the clothing ill fitted on his shoulders, torn apart at the sleeves as if the owner had had a fit of rage and gotten rid of them.

But Mobei would recognize that shade of brown anywhere, those hands always moving, always plotting, now eerily quiet and slumped.

If he had any strength left he would have screamed. He might have done so anyway as he gave a final push, lurching towards the chair, catching Qinghua's body before it hit the ground.

“Qinghua-” he gasped, his claws poking holes into the worn-out fabric as Mobei touched his chest, pressing down the palm of his hand against chill skin.

Cold, cold, cold, why was he so cold?!

“Qinghua, answer to your king!” he shouted, flipping his torn cape to cover the body on his arms, as if he, the king of the Northern Desert, could bring anyone any heat.

He never hated his cold skin so much in his entire life.

“Qinghua, you can't-” He tried again, pressing his forehead against the Cultivator's, his demonic mark glowing, casting familiar shadows on Qinghua's face, a comfort in the middle of the explosion of light around them.

“Please,” he whispered, strong arms delicately moving the body around to give it comfort. Mobei-Jun was made of ice and stone, made to endure the North and its hardships, made to survive and thrive. But he would make himself soft for Qinghua, he would fold his sharp claws and sooth his harsh voice, he would do anything, anything, if it meant- if-

“Please,” he whispered again, feeling as if someone had grabbed his heart and were tearing it apart, pulling it up through his throat, making it hard to breathe. “Please, Qinghua.”

Pride was such a funny thing.

It held realms, but it also made them crumble.

It was expected, but abhorred.

It was Mobei-Jun's entire personality.

It meant nothing.

“Come back to me.”

----

Don't worry!!! Airplane fights the System and wins!!! I swear they'll have a happy ending!! Fjshskf

But yea, I hope you guys liked it and that you're enjoying this craziness that has taken over my brain

See you in the next part ❤️

[theetherealbloom]

UNEVEN ODDS — CH. 4

Chapter Four: An Orchestration of Dissonance And Innocent Surrender

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, ANGST, Swearing, Mention of catcalling, men being awful, tiny fluff, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, the pandemic, character death, Zombies, eventual SMUT, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing

Word Count: 11.1k

A/N: HELLO UM! THERE ARE SO MANY OF YOU AGAIN! UM AHHHH T^T I love you guys so much, thank you for all the kind words and comments. The reblogs and then PUTTING ME IN FIC RECS WHAT– O_O Thank you guys again so so so so so much! You deserve the world <3 And as always, I put my little outline and thoughts at the end notes! Mwa ilysm

Song: Bigger Than Love by Oh Wonder

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

TLOU WORLD – 2023

OLD ABANDONED TRUCK STOP– DAY

You three are at an abandoned truck stop and fully aged, weathered vehicles surround the area. The sun shone on your skin as you waited for Ellie just outside the restroom door after she demanded privacy for a bit to relieve herself. You didn’t question the kid, it was the least you could do for her. 

You’re secretly admiring Joel from a distance, and you watch Joel prepare the red large gas can, a clear long tube, and a siphon. Promptly, you hear the sound of the restroom door slamming open and you look at Ellie, “You good?” She nods cheerfully at you, “Yep. All good.” And then you both approach Joel, the gravel crunching beneath your feet as you did, and you slowly take notice that the asphalt has lifted from the ground strangely. You stop walking and quizzically stare at the lifted asphalt, your eyebrows knit together and you kneel down to take a better look at it, Ellie looks at you like you’ve gone insane, “Are you alright?” she asks you, and you keep your eyes focused on the ground, “Yeah, just… It’s hopefully nothing.” You say in response and push yourself upright, “Let’s go see what Joel is up to.”

Joel is currently kneeling on one knee and feeding both tubes in the tank, Ellie stands in front of him while you stand to the left of her, “We have to do this every hour?” she asked in a bored tone. Joel glances at her in acknowledgment then continues on with the siphon, “Gas breaks down over time. This stuff’s almost water.” He grabs a rag to create a seal around the tubes, “Back in the day, we’d drive 10, 12 hours on one tank. You could go anywhere.” He says as you and Ellie continue to watch him keenly, “So where’d you go?” she questioned, and he looks up at the both of you, “Pretty much nowhere.” Joel subsequently blows air into the short tube, which forces air through the short tube and increases the pressure of the air above the gas in the tank, causing it to flow through the longer tube and into the gas can. You lean your weight on one of the rusted cars and fold your arms in front of you. 

“Nice! How does that work?” Ellie asks Joel and you tilt your head to the side to listen to his response, “It’s a siphon. It’s when liquid… travels against gravity because pressure…” Ellie’s lips are pressed together as she says, “You don’t know.” He stares at her before asserting, “I know it works.” She chuckles and you smirk at him, “Want me to explain it or…” He only mumbles, “Smartass,” and you roll your eyes, something truly possessed you to be bold for a moment, because you teasingly reply, “But you secretly like it.”

It earns you a look from him that causes your heartbeat to accelerate and it suddenly becomes a little harder to breathe, he only pulls away because he spots Ellie turning around to wander off, “No wanderin’.” He tells her seriously, she stops short and sighs, before saying, “Okay. This is your fault then.” She places her bag atop one of the abandoned, rusty cars, and pulls out a book with the title ‘No Pun Intended Volume Too by Will Livingston’, Joel watches her bewildered and perplexed as she reads out one of the puns from the book, “It doesn’t matter how much you push the envelope, it’ll still be stationary.” She gives a little laugh and you smile at her merriment as she shows Joel the book cover, “‘No Pun Intended Volume Too by Will Livingston.’ Volume Too. Look. You get it? ‘Too’ Like, T-O-O.” And Joel huffs and begins to stand up with a peeved look, “Oh Jesus.” But Ellie pushes on and says, “What did the mermaid wear to her math class?” You and Joel look at each other, then at Ellie, waiting for her to say the punch line, and you watch her as she slowly leans forward slowly before saying, “‘An algae bra.’ Like, algae bra.” She laughs out loud before speaking again, “I stayed up all night wondering–” To which Joel shakes his head at her, “No,” but this doesn’t deter her at all and goes on, “ where the sun went and then it dawned on me.” 

Seemingly annoyed he gruffly says to her, “Feel free to wait in the truck,” and she exhales, “Okay, but just know, you can’t escape Will Livingston. He’ll be back.” Ellie puts her book in her pack and before leaving you both she says, “There’s nothing you can do to stop him.” Joel says nothing as he also leans on the old rusting car with his arms crossed, and Ellie goes to wait in the truck. You let the silence settle and give him a little bit of peace before calling out to him, “Joel.” He says nothing but he does bring his eyes to look at you. “You know it’s okay to like her. Right?” You said with the softest eyes and kind smile, and he just shakes his head, “I can’t.” You deeply exhale and push yourself off the hood of the car to stand in front of him, “You can’t or you won’t?” And he looks down at his boots, “Can’t.”

You didn’t want to put any more discomfort and decided to simply nod instead, “Okay.” He slowly brings his head up to give you a suspicious look, “Okay?” You nod, “Mhm, okay.” His eyes narrow, “That’s it? No tryin’ to change my mind?” You shrug in response, “I have a feeling you’ll do that on your own. Anyways, the gas can is full.” You raise your eyebrows, “Need any help carrying that thing?” He grumpily bends down to pick up the heavy gas can and his voice timber and low says, “I could carry you and this back to the truck if I wanted to.” You feel your brain short-circuits for a second, the warmth spreads throughout your whole body and your eyes widened in embarrassment, “Um, I’m just gonna… mhm.” And you turn to run to the truck. Joel lets out a breathy chuckle, smirking the whole time as he watches your figure run.

ON THE ROAD - NOON

The blue Chevy pulls out of the gas station and Joel has one hand on the steering wheel and his right rest on the console, while you are sitting next to him in the passenger seat, looking out at the window studying the environment, and Ellie is content in the backseat. You feel an unease settle in and create a home in your bones, not knowing what could happen terrifies you. Every possibility in your mind pops in and out, and you ponder which part of the video game did they keep or change. 

“Must’ve been some truck.” Ellie says as she peers through the window glass at the back of the vehicle, Joel grunts in agreement and explains why the highways are so clear, “Yeah, they used to stick big ass plows on the back and clear the road for their tanks and such.” Ellie finds all of this very exciting and exclaims, “I wanna see a tank!” Joel looks at her from the rearview mirror and simply says, “You will.” Your eyes shift to look at Joel as he keeps talking with a wearied cynicism, “Tanks, choppers, all that stuff, but they’ll fight the wrong enemy. Just scattered around now.” 

Ellie digs through the utility pocket behind the passenger seat to find another cassette tape, she raises up enthusiastic and eager, “I got something. Here. This make you all nostalgic?” She says as she pushes up to show Joel, he takes it and you peer over to look at the title cover, ‘Hank Williams, The Original Singles Collection’, Joel replies, “This is actually before my time.” And Ellie goes to sit back properly in the backseat, “Great.” 

He hums appreciatively, “It’s a winner, though.” When he places the cassette tape in the player, the rattling sound of plastic can be heard before the music begins and he cranks up the volume. Joel miraculously smiles as he listens to the song, “Oh, man.” And you raise an eyebrow at him, “Of course, you’d like this, it’s cowboy music.” You said and he lets out a small but beautiful chuckle, which causes your body to heat up. The young girl continues to explore the back of the truck, digging through the other utility pocket, you hear a quiet rustling of paper as she whips out a magazine, “Got something else.” 

Joel looks at the rearview mirror again to look at Ellie, while you turn to look at what she has and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets, and so does hers. “It’s light on the reading, but it has some interesting pictures.” Your shoulders begin to shake as you try and hold in your laugh as Joel seemingly panics, “No. No, no, no. Put that back, that’s not for kids.” Ellie doesn’t listen and continues to flip through the pages, “How would he even walk around with that thing?” God, you tried to hold it in but couldn’t anymore, you’re now full-on grinning and laughing so loud and carefree, while Joel is trying his best to get Ellie to cooperate, “Please get rid of it.” 

“Hold your horses. I wanna see what all the fuss is about.” Ellie says as she analyzes the magazine, while you’re practically wheezing and happy that they incorporated this part of the video game. Joel practically gives up but Ellie decides to innocently say, “Why are all these pages stuck together?” Joel has a baffled look on his face as he lets out an, “Uh… The…” Your mouth hangs wide open for a moment and you curl your hand into a fist, bringing it to your mouth to bite back from cackling again. Ellie puts him out of his misery and slaps him on the shoulder, “I’m just fucking with you.” And throws the adult magazine out the window, it flutters out into the wind and onto the side of the road, yelling out, “Bye-bye, dude!”

You smile and think to yourself, joy itself always seems to end before we want it to. Brief and ephemeral. So, this time, you decide to let go and in this moment you can breathe. It lives in your periphery. In the corner of your eyes. Suddenly, it shows up and the surprise adds to its beauty. A gratitude for all that follows

ON THE ROAD AND TO THE FOREST - CIVIL TWILIGHT

Time moves quickly as Joel continues to drive and Ellie silently watches the view from the window. You take note of the cows grazing on grass, the cars that were left to rot, and the familiar landmarks crumbling down as mother intended to take back what was hers. They must have cried themselves a hurricane because there was an earthquake and an avalanche of change. The echo, as vast as the equator, spreads across a world of bottled-up anger, and it's too late to prevent it now.

As the hours pass by and the sun slowly begins to set, you check on Ellie from the rearview, she looks fatigued from all the driving and so do you, it’s been a while since your last road trip, and you barely had time for yourself since you were stuck in the lab all day and night. Joel sees your weary eyes and frown, he also sees a similar look to Ellie, and he decides to tell you both, “All right. That’s enough for today.” He places both of his hands to turn the wheel to the right, driving off the road and into the field, straight into a thick forest filled with tall evergreen trees. 

The truck comes to a stop and you all prepare to camp out for the night. You help Joel cook and prepare dinner and Ellie keeps herself occupied as she pokes around the dirt with a stick. The smell of canned ravioli fills your lungs and your mouth begins to water. Joel taps the edge of the pot, indicating that it’s cooked and you call for Ellie to sit down for dinner. The three of you sit down in a semi-circle, with you in the middle, and Joel and Ellie on each side. You gently blow on the hot ravioli before bringing the food into your mouth, chewing quietly, and amusingly watch Ellie scarf down her food quickly. Joel looks at her kind of bothered by her manners, “Slow down.” He said, and she replies with a mouthful of food, “This is slow. What am I even eating?” Joel cuts hit food using his fork and knife and answers, “That is 20-year-old Chef Boyardee ravioli.” Ellie brings another piece of pasta and answers while chewing, “That guy was good.” Joel hums in agreement, “I actually agree.” And you nod appreciatively as you finish your food. 

“How long are we staying out here?” Ellie asks Joel and you look to him for his response, “I figure I’d sleep tonight and drive tomorrow all day, all night get us to Wyoming by next morning.” Ellie plays with her food as she asks, “So can we start a fire? I’m freezing.” Joel gives a pointed stare, “Now why am I gonna tell you no?” She shrugs and guesses, “Because the infected will see the smoke.” He shakes his head at her, “No. Fungus isn’t that smart. This is too remote for infected, anyway.” The answer dawns on Ellie and asks, “People?” And Joel nods, his answer to her question. She continues to press for more information, “So what are they gonna do? Rob us?” And you frown, knowing exactly what people do during war or a crisis, morals are thrown out the window and everyone can do as they please. Every crime, assault, and misdemeanor is seen as means to an end, which is to take and survive. Your knuckles turn white as you grip your fork, angry at the world and the people who choose to do all forms of wrong. Joel warns her, “Well, they’ll have way more in mind than that.” Ellie nods while pouting, “Okay.”

LOCATION UNKNOWN, A FOREST – NIGHT

Your eyes are well-versed in the dark and the mind was then created to illumine the heart. And when every constellation suddenly emerged, the remote was drawn so close by telescopes and computations. You inhale, exhale, and reset. Realizing, every living creature is in a continual state of uncertainty. Even with all of your past, you’ve just scratched the surface of what it all implies. Ellie prepares her sleeping bag and so do you, placing yours in between hers and Joel’s. “Actually smells kinda good.” Ellie said as she continues to unfold the sleeping bag, you hear Joel comment, “Well, that would be Frank’s then.” She tucks herself in and you help her as you do, lightly patting the blanket as she settles comfortably. You do the same and now you’re flat on your back as you gaze at the stars illuminating the darkness and listen to the quiet rustling of the branches and leaves of the trees, the melodies sung by the chirping of crickets. Joel checks the chamber of the rifle and ensures that it’s loaded and ready just in case of an ambush, then he places it next to him. You hear Ellie take something out of her backpack and you had a sneaking suspicion it was the No Pun Intended book. The light of the lantern slowly fades away and the shadows follow the rules and the darkness expands around all of you.

Joel is facing away from the both of you and Ellie whips out her flashlight and quickly glances at her favorite book, clicks off the light, and aloud she calls out both of your names, you look at her but Joel doesn’t respond at first, you slide out a little to lean a bit forward to his side and tap him on the shoulder, “What?” he asks, and Ellie responds, “Can I ask you a serious question?” And without hesitation, he says, “Yeah.” You smile knowingly at what was about to happen as she questions, “Why did the scarecrow get an award?” A beat passes between the three of you, and you and Joel whisper simultaneously, “Because he was outstanding in his field.” Ellie rises from her sleeping bag and exclaims, “You dicks!”

A large grin spreads across your face and Joel turns around to face the other direction, Ellie begins to interrogate the two of you, “Did both of you read this?” You hear the smile in Joel’s voice as he answers, “No.” And you give an airy chuckle, “Nope.” He sighs and then tells you both, “Now go to sleep.” Ellie makes a noise of suspicion but says nothing as she tucks the book into her sleeping pouch, the hoot of an owl can be heard from above, and the howls of coyotes from a distance. 

Ellie is also gazing up at the stars with you now and begins to appreciate the way they glow and shimmer. You move your head to look at Ellie and whisper, “Psst. Ellie…” She turns her head to your side, “Yeah?” And in a hushed tone, you ask, “Do you wanna learn something about constellations?” She nods enthusiastically, “Yeah!” And you begin to whisper the explanation and details, you point and trace your fingers at the stars, your rickety astrology determined to give her hope, “Orion's belt is right above the equator of the Earth. Everyone, and everywhere can see just stars in that area. A star placed above one of the poles, such as the North Star, and concealed from us in the opposing hemisphere, obstructed by Earth itself.” 

She is looking at you with her eyes as big as summer tomatoes, full of admiration and awe at your intelligence like you have all the answers, and wonders if she will ever be a woman like you. She seeks an answer to her next question, “Is Orion like a place?” You smile and in a soft voice you say, “No, he’s someone from greek mythology. In the stores, he was a giant and very handsome hunter, who had many affairs and lovers. Either his assault on or admiration for a goddess named Artemis, another god named Zeus placed him amongst the stars as punishment. Stories and text sometimes get lost in translation.”

This is when she learned to wish on stars, content she hums an appreciative thank you and you give a small smile in return. After another beat passes, Ellie poses a new question, this time aimed at Joel, who had been listening to the two of you the whole time but stayed quiet, “Those people you said… there’s no way anyone knows we’re here, right? No one’s gonna find us.” 

Her words hang in the air briefly, “No one’s gonna find us.” Joel reassures her and Ellie responds with a quiet, “Okay.” She turns in for the night and begins to fall asleep. There is a sudden weight on your chest when she asked her query, and you suddenly feel nauseous at the thought of anything happening to Ellie and Joel. You close your eyes and swallow away the urge to vomit, and with the darkness, you’ve seen, your tired eyes rest and allow yourself to sleep for a while. But if you had stayed up just a little longer, you would have heard Joel leave his sleeping bag and reach for his rifle, and his footsteps walking a distance away from you and Ellie, ensuring your safety as he watches and anticipates any sign of danger, his guilt for scaring the girl keeps him up all night and the thought of you getting hurt. He holds his rifle ready, protecting the two of you who quietly snore into the night.

LOCATION UNKNOWN, A FOREST – DAWN

The sound of chirping birds wakes you and you groggily sit up. You look to your left to see Ellie who was still sound asleep, and then you see Joel standing watch with his rifle, you have a suspicion he didn’t actually sleep and Ellie’s concern kept him up. You sigh and quietly leave your sleeping bag, down your arms, a thousand satellites discover the cool breeze in the air, causing you to shiver and wrap your arms around yourself to salvage some warmth. You stretch your arms up to the sky, trying to wake your body to begin the day, then you hear the lime-green grass rustle and shake, creating whispers of sound beneath Joel’s boots as he walks toward you, glancing over your shoulder before turning to face him.

You feel his confident presence and your heart skips a beat, he greets you with his voice thick and smooth, “Mornin’.” You warmly say good morning to him in a hushed voice, you take a good look at him to see his deep eyebags, completely exhausted, and you ask, “Did you even sleep at all?” He doesn’t deny it as he shook his head, “No, I couldn’t.” You hum in response, already confirming what you thought, next, you inquire, “Do we have any coffee that I could brew? I have a feeling we’re going to need it.” 

“Did you not sleep well last night? Could hear you snorin’ from where I was standing.” Joel said with his tone straightforward and deep, you shrug, “Sometimes I wake up tired, and besides, I enjoy a good cup of coffee to start my day, it’s my morning ritual back home.” You make your way to the pouch of coffee grounds, open it, and inhale the aroma, and Joel observes you as you do.

You begin to brew both of your coffee, making enough to fit two insulated tumblers. You make your way into the forest, already telling Joel you needed to pee, and him reminding you in his thick Texan accent, “If you don’t get your ass back here in five minutes, I’m comin' to look for you.” After finding a bush and relieving yourself, you stand by one of the tall thick trees, leaning your weight against the trunk of the tree and crossing your arms as you watch Ellie and Joel from a distance.

You close your eyes for a moment to steady yourself and your breathing, trying to recall parts of the game you’ve seen, a little peek at what could be adapted. Unfortunately, you knew the ending of the first and second games, and you knew there was nothing you could do for the first, but the second one however…

Joel yells your name, telling you to come back already and you jog your way back, not wanting to make them wait. No one says anything as you pack up camp and hop in the truck, this time letting Ellie sit in the passenger seat while you sit in the back. The engine of the truck revs to life and Joel drives you out of the woods and back onto the highway.

Joel takes a loud sip of his coffee while you are still blowing away the steam, Ellie doesn’t seem to be impressed with the drink as she comments, “Is that seriously what those Starbucks in the QZ used to sell?” With one hand on the steering wheel, he lowers his thermos and retorts, “Well, theirs was a lot fresher than Bill saved up but, yeah, this is what they sold.” The young girl looks at it in disgust, “Smells like… burnt shit.” Joel wanting to be slightly petty, takes a long, loud, pointed sip of his coffee, before turning to Ellie saying, “Eyes on the map, or else I’m askin’ you to switch seats with Birdie.”

Your heart flutters at the nickname but you hide your smile by sipping your own coffee, looking out the window as you do. Ellie smirks knowingly at Joel but doesn’t push any further, she begins to give directions, “76 West, and then… 70 West for, like, ever. Where in Wyoming did you say your brother was?” And to your surprise, Joel indulges her, “Last contact came through a radio tower close to Cody.” Ellie straightens the map to find the tower, “Cody. Cody… Cody. Man. That is deep up in there.” Joel glances then reply, “Yeah.” The young curious kid asks him, “And if he’s not there?” He thoughtfully sighs, “Then odds are he’ll be near a settlement probably close to another city out there. Ain’t too many of them in Wyoming.”

“Chee-Yen.” Ellie tries to pronounce it, and Joel corrects her, “Cheyenne.” She looks at him in disbelief, “Che… Really?” He nods as she goes on to trace her finger along the map, “Cheyenne, Laramie… Casper? What’s his name?” Joel then asks, “Whose name?” She throws back, “Your brother.” He grunts out, “Tommy.” You smile to yourself, knowing that tone of voice is him trying to build invisible walls around himself to protect whatever he has left of his family. “Younger or older?” Ellie persists, and he answers immediately, “Younger.”

“Why isn’t he with you?” She asked and you watch Joel try to evade her inquiry, “Long story.” Ellie never knowing when to give up, persists, “Is it longer than twenty-five hours? Because I think that’s what we got.” Joel looks at Ellie with a pointed stare, mouth slightly open ready to scold her but realizes she has a point. He glances at the rearview to see you looking back at him, waiting for his choice.

His eyes go back to the road as he speaks, “Tommy’s what we used to call a joiner. Dreams of becoming a hero. So he enlisted in the Army right out of high school. A few months later, they ship him off to Desert Storm.”

Ellie turns to him quizzically but stays silent as he carries on, “It’s what they called that war. It doesn’t matter. Point is, being in the Army didn’t make him feel much of a hero. Cut to twelve years later, outbreak happens. He convinces me to join a group making their way up to Boston which I did, mostly to keep an eye on him, keep him alive.” He glances at the rearview mirror again and this time you aren’t staring back, you’re resting your head on the window, listening intently, “It’s where we met Tess.”

He takes a swig of his coffee before continuing, “And that whole crew, we… Well, for what it was, it worked. And then Tommy meets Marlene. She talks him into joining the Fireflies. Same mistake he made when he was eighteen.” Joel shakes his head in disapproval and his tone shifts into cynicism, “Wants to save the world. Pipe dream. Him, Fireflies, all of them… delusional.”

You blink blankly and frown, not agreeing with his view but understanding where he’s coming from. His world ended when Sarah died, and since she’s gone he has no reason to go back to the way things were. 

“‘Course, last I heard, he quit the Fireflies too. So now he’s on his own out there and… I gotta go get him.” He states and takes a long sip of the rest of his coffee, while Ellie tries to make sense of his story, another question pops into her mind as she quietly asks him, “If you don’t think there’s hope for the world why bother going on? I mean, you gotta try, right?” A beat passes, and then he answers grimly, “You haven’t seen the world, so you don’t know. You keep going for family. That’s about it.”

Ellie moves her eyes to look at him, “I’m not family?” And he shakes his head, “No. You’re cargo.” Your form shrinks a little bit and think to yourself, and you secretly figure that Joel doesn’t mean that, but doesn’t want her treating him like a father yet.

You quietly exhale and will yourself to stop bouncing your leg up and down, grounding yourself. “And I made a promise to Tess. And she was like family.” Ellie nods before bringing up more possibilities,  “What if you don’t find him?” It doesn’t take him long to reply, “I will.” She shoots back, “How do you know?” With a voice so sure and confident, he says, “I’m persistent.”

And you swore you saw him glance at you from the rearview mirror for a millisecond, but you weren’t so sure, you chalked it up to your wishful thinking. It was quiet for a bit before Joel speaks to Ellie, “You got up pretty early. If you wanna grab more sleep…” Ellie immediately replies, “Pfft. I’m not even tired.”

Ellie was in fact tired, after ten minutes of saying that, she fell into a deep sleep, and her snores echoed in the car. After two or three hours Joel pulls over at the side of the road, telling you to switch seats with Ellie since he needs help reading the map. You decided not to question it and got out of the truck as he did the same. You watched him quietly open the door, and carry Ellie from the passenger side to the back seat where he gently set her. 

You climb into the passenger seat and wait for Joel to sit in the driver’s seat. The map was now on your lap and you gently traced the piece of paper, lines stretching out, with too many miles to count. Dots reminds you of where you’ve been, sometimes it feels like your inner compass breaks, and your steady true north fades. You try and reassure yourself it’ll be just fine, that whatever comes next, you’ll handle it together.

Joel quietly speaks your name so as to not disturb Ellie, you look up at him  from the map, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the armrest console, “Tell me somethin’ good about your world.” He grumbles, and you stagger a bit before saying, “You actually believe what I said back then? You believe me?”

He shrugs with one shoulder and taps on the steering wheel, “There’s a fuckin’ apocalypse. My guess is that anythin’ could be possible now.” You lightly chuckle, “Yeah, I guess so.”

You stayed silent for a moment, trying to come up with an answer, any kind of answer, and you settle for the truth, “I don’t know. Besides the fact, we have no infected and our technology is more advanced, everything is still the same. Same landmarks, problems, the people hate the government but still need it, choosing the lesser of two evils and everyday people trying their damn best.”

He gruffly says to you, “Would prefer that over this shit.” You let out a huff, “Yeah, that’s valid.”

“Tell me about your home.” He says, and you raise an eyebrow, “Are you asking or demanding? Also, why are you suddenly so curious about me?” He’s unsure for a moment but he answers, “You already know stuff about me. It’s only fair.” Your lips form a line as you press them against each other, and your eyes shift to look at the map instead of him, “I thought you didn’t want to hear about any of our histories?”

“I think we broke that rule the moment Ellie kept askin’ about my life.” Your eyes wrinkle as you smile, “There isn’t much to say, and also I don’t really like talking about myself.” He harrumphs, “Why? You’re a scientist and incredibly smart.” You bring your eyes back to him and give him a look of disbelief, “Did you just say something nice?” His face sours and grumpily murmurs, “Don’t tell anyone.” 

“Oh, I’m definitely telling Ellie later,” You smile teasingly at him, and he shakes his head, “So, what did you research, discover, or whatever?” And that question causes you to inhale through your nose deeply, “Um, in 2022 three scientists were awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for experiments with entangled photons, establishing the violation of Bell inequalities and pioneering quantum information science. Basically, they got awarded for their research and I took an interest in what they found. I had a theory with what they discovered with quantum teleportation.”

Joel didn’t really understand the science jargon that was spitting out of your mouth so fast like lightning, but he was intrigued, “What was your theory?” You nervously removed the dirt from your fingernails as you replied, “It’s a little complicated.” He retorts, “I’m beginning to think that’s your favorite line.” You bite the inner walls of your cheek and exhale loudly through your nose. Joel senses you didn’t want to discuss it any further and the quiet returns. Only the muffled rumbling of the engine and the sound of the tires rolling on the pavement. The only occasional noise from the two of you was asking for directions from Joel and you giving him a prompt reply.

The hours go by quickly and the sun is beginning to set, the orange glow illuminating both of your faces. The truck begins to pull up to the outskirts of Kansas City and you silently pray that this will all go smoothly.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

KANSAS CITY - SUNSET

Ellie awakens shortly after you pull up to the tunnel and Joel slowly presses on the brakes to put the truck to stop. Joel turns off the engine and turns to you both before opening the door, “Stay put.” He grabs the rifle from the back and proceeds to scout the area. Ellie kindly asks to switch with you again and for a moment you almost decline, your gut feeling telling you something is wrong, but couldn’t resist the kid and again move to the back while she moves upfront.

Joel sees the tunnel to Kansas City is blocked by a SaraLee bread truck and you watch him make his way back to the truck. He opens the back door and places the rifle beside you and goes back to the driver's seat. “Where are we?” Ellie asks and he quickly replies, “Kansas City.” Ellie gives him the map and you lean over Joel’s shoulder to analyze the map, “How far back do we have to go to get around this?” The young girl questions and you watch Joel trace his finger along the many red lines. He shakes his head and sighs in frustration before deciding, “Screw it.” And he turns the key to start the truck up again. “What are you doing?” Ellie asks and Joel answers as he performs a three-point turn, “We can jog right around this tunnel take the next ramp and we’re back on the road, minute tops.” You look out the window and see the rusting cars and burned corpses of people, shuddering, you try and remember a portion of the game for some clue of what was about to happen. You weren’t in Pittsburgh, but the way this was adapted would still have the very important elements of the original intellectual property. Fuck.

Joel enters the city and it’s eerily quiet, you take note of the empty streets and zero signs of runners. “Where the fuck is the highway?” Joel states frustrated and Ellie retorts, “I can’t tell from this. I’m all turned around.” You hear him get irritated, “Don’t look at the state map. Look at the inset.” 

“I don’t know where we are in that either! It’s my second day in a fucking car, man. I mean, I think we’re heading north?” Joel continues to drive and you keenly observe your surroundings and see something unusual, you spot a pile of ash and remains of people as he drives by. “It’s gotta be right. What the fuck?” He says and you try and voice your concerns, “Joel, there’s um,” but he quickly fires back, “Not now Birdie.” And you deflate a little but keep trying, “Joel, something is–” But Ellie yells out, “Stop!” The tires shriek as he steps on the breaks, and Ellie stares at something wide-eyed and you do too, “Is that the QZ?” The gates were wide open without a single FEDRA officer in sight and completely vacated, your mouth hangs open, “Shit.” Ellie presses on, “Where the fuck is FEDRA?” As if on queue, you hear someone yell, “Hey!” All three of your heads whip to the sound of the man’s voice, he’s clutching his lower abdomen and yelling out, “Please help!”

“Put your seatbelt on,” Joel demands and you and Ellie follow, you clutch on the assist grips above the car, knowing this isn’t gonna go well. “Aren’t we gonna help him?” Ellie asks innocently, “No.” You and Joel answer quickly, he floors it and the man moves out of the way screaming, “Fuck! Go… go!”

Ellie looks above and shrieks, “Joel!” And a cylinder brick falls from the sky, crashing atop the windshield glass, cracks, and fractures are created and you hear the tires pop, and you assume they’ve laid down spikes. You gritted your teeth as Joel tries to get control of the truck, and another man tries to shoot you all down, “Fuck!” Having no other options, he crashes the truck into an old laundromat, and the impact causes you to jerk forward, hitting your head slightly in the seat in front of you.

“Are you okay?” Joel worriedly questions, “Yeah.” Ellie replies and he turns to see you slightly bleeding from your head, “Hummin’ bird, you okay?” And you quickly compose yourself, “Yes, I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.” He then asks Ellie, “You’re not hurt? Nothing?” She shakes her head, “I don’t think so.”

The sound of gunfire cause the three of you to flinch and duck down for cover, Joel yells and commands, “Belts off. Fast!” And what he says goes, immediately you grab your pack and rifle from the backseat, the loud popping sounds of gunfire continue as you get out, and duck behind the truck. You toss Joel his rifle and you pull out your gun, you hear the taunts on the other side, “Let’s see you, motherfucker! Give us your shit, you’ll make it through this! We promise!”

Joel pulls off his safety and makes sure his rifle is loaded, he spots a hole in the walls of the laundromat and asks Ellie, “Hey, you see that hole? Can you squeeze through?” The gunfire doesn’t let up and she shakily nods, Joel realizes that time is running out before the enemy decides to push forward, he instructs Ellie while looking at her directly, “When I say go, you both crawl to that wall and you two squeeze through and you don’t come out until I say, okay?” You try and protest but the sound of another bullet swiftly breaks the class of the truck and all three of you flinch. 

Your breathing quickens and you feel the adrenaline coursing through you, while Joel’s chest bounces up and down as he pants, “And they’re not gonna hit you.” But Ellie isn’t listening, too scared and afraid of all the chaos ensuing, Joel growls, “Look at me!” She twists her head and her wide doe eyes look at him, frightened and unsure, he reassures her, “They’re not gonna hit you. You stay down, you stay low, you stay quiet.” Ellie nods reluctantly, “Mhm.” A pause during the gunfire, and you realize they’re reloading. “Okay.” He says and Ellie parrots to him, “Okay.” Joel takes that as his signal and yells to you both, “Go!” Ellie stays low and crawls through the wall, safe and secure for now. You however help Joel and shoot at the enemies. He yells your name, “What the fuck are you doing? I can handle this now go!” You shake your head and exclaim, “No! I can help you.”

He pulls you down, both of you crouching on the ground and cups one hand to hold your face, “Right now that kid is scared shitless and shouldn’t be alone.” You try again to object, but he stops you, “No, listen to me. Go through that hole and be with Ellie, she needs you.” You feel your eyes water and give him a sincere look, your voice breathy as you reply, “We both do.” His mouth parts and his eyes dart to your soft lips for just a second, so fast you almost missed it if your faces weren’t so close to each other, and at that moment your heartbeats were synchronized, and both of your breathing unsteady. Warmth fills you both and causes both of your eyes to dilate, similar to an eclipse.

Another gunshot rings out and it hits the cement on the ground, causing you to jump, Joel wipes away some of the dust on your cheek and intently says to you, “I’ve got this. I promise, now go.”

You blink back your tears and whisper, “Give 'em hell.” He stands up again to cover you while you crawl into the hole, to be with Ellie. Both of you have your back against the wall, and you try and steady your racing heartbeat.

“What about Joel?” She asks you, full of worry and concern. Instead of answering, you hug her close to you, and she buries her face on your stomach, as you try and shield her away from the noise and gunfire. Then there is a sudden silence, and you and Ellie take a peek from the hole in the wall, the sound of footsteps stepping over broke glass fills the space and you have your gun ready in one hand just in case and shield Ellie with your body.

He steps a bit closer to your hiding place and instantly there was a gunshot, you and Ellie turn away as you also held back a scream. Stillness fills the room and you try your best to listen for Joel to tell you to come out, only hearing him try and unjam his rifle. Then, the sudden slam of a door opening, and another loud pop could be heard. You hear grunts, groans, and yelling from the intruder and Joel, and Ellie urgently whispers, “We need to help him!”

You nod, and Ellie swiftly sidesteps you and climbs out of the hiding space and you go after her. You and her quietly step out and to your surprise, she’s holding her gun out, aiming directly at the unidentified man’s head, before you could even utter a word or try and stop her, she shoots him in the spine. Joel rolls over to the side coughing and wheezing as he tries to catch his breath. You gently approach Joel as he side-eyes Ellie but continues to cough, you begin first aid, loosen any tight clothing, remove the top button of his outer shirt and place your hand on his back to try and feel his lungs, and hear Ellie step a little closer to the man, her gun still aimed at him.

The man begins to plead, “No, no, no! It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s over, we’re not fighting anymore.” Ellie doesn’t say anything and still has the gun pointed at him, “I’m gonna go home. I’ll tell everyone you’re good.” His face scrunches up and he begins to cry, “I don’t know what to do. My legs don’t work. My mom isn’t far if you can get me to her.”

Joel’s breathing returns to normal and you whisper, “You good?” And he only nods, angry and upset that he got caught off guard so easily. You help him up and hear the man still begging for his life, “We could trade with you guys. We could be friends. I didn’t know. I’m Bryan. I’m Bryan. What’s your name?” He continues to sob. 

Joel looks at Ellie angrily, and she sniffs. He doesn’t say anything but holds out his hand and she hands him her gun which he places in his back pocket. Joel pulls out his revolver, slowly turns around, and Bryan continues to beg, “Wait… wait.” He pulls out a knife and says, “You can have it. It’s a good knife.” You stand next to Ellie and watch Joel lean down and pick up the knife. His eyes are dark with rage as he looks at you and Ellie, his voice deep and dominant that fills a warmth in your belly, “Get back behind the wall.” 

Bryan instantly sobs, “No, no, no. I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, we could just talk. I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You slowly grab Ellie to gently coax her away, and she follows, Bryan screams for his life as you step back inside the hole. Ellie hugs your middle as she lets a single tear roll down her cheek, and you hug her right back, covering her ears from his yelling and pleading. You hear the slashing of a knife and the sound of blood splattering.

You try and calm Ellie and stroke her hair as you murmur reassuringly, “We’ll be just fine.”  It was quiet for a second before you hear Joel’s booming voice calling you and Ellie, “I gotta get in there, I can’t fit through.” You wipe away her tears and gently pat her cheek, “We got this, yeah?” Ellie nods, “Mhm.”

You and her take a look around the room and Ellie yells out, “There’s some stuff against the door.” Joel is quick to reply, “Can you both move it?” You and Ellie nod at each other and work together to pull the table aside while Joel uses his arm to push the door open. He manages to get in and slams the door shut, “Let’s go. Fast.” He states and all three of you push the table back in its place. Joel looks at the both of you with concern, but Ellie quickly gets her bag and says, “I’m okay. I’m good.” You say nothing and also reach for your bag, quickly grabbing a bandaid from your first aid kit and then throwing it over your shoulder. Ellie approaches Joel and opens her pack, “I got some food in here still, and I got your light still.” He grabs it from her while you are on the side quietly and swiftly, placing a bandaid on your head, no time to disinfect it yet.

“What now?” Ellie asks, trying to be brave, and Joel observes her for a moment before saying, “We go up.” And she throws her back over her shoulders, “To get a better look?” You follow them both to a door and Joel responds, “Hopefully, we spot a clear route out.” He pushes the door open and clicks on the flashlight to check if it's safe, the only sound you could hear was the dripping of water from a leaky pipe, he turns to you both and says, “Stay close.” Ellie nods, “Got it.” Joel moves forward and Ellie and you follow him to a narrow alleyway. He has his revolver in one hand and you also have your gun out. 

You three duck behind a rusted car, and you hear and spot multiple vehicles driving by. They were all armed, carrying various weapons and knives. Joel signals you two to wait and walks across to open a black door, he flicks on the flashlight and with one look, signals both of you to run across the street and into the next building.

You take cover and hide in a neglected bar, with newspapers covering the large windows. Joel peeks through the uncovered patches and watches the hunters pass by, searching different buildings. “They’re not FEDRA, and they’re not Fireflies. So who are they?” Ellie asks and Joel plainly states, “People.” You and Ellie are also looking through the small patches, she quietly asks, “Are we okay in here?”

“For a little bit, maybe. Looks like they’re checking apartment buildings first. But they’ll be coming through these places soon enough.” Joel says and walks away to stand away from the windows. And you decide to sit, choosing the floor by the door of the old bar, and tend to the wound on your head. Ellie is still looking through the small patches of glass, “There’s a really tall building, like, four blocks away.” Joel’s voice is rough as he replies, “Yeah, saw it.”

“So that’s the one?” Ellie questions him, and he immediately answers, “As soon as we don’t hear a truck, we move. Fast as we can.” Joel slowly sits down on the cushion and eyes you as you busy yourself disinfecting and cleaning up the blood on your head. Ellie sits down next to you, her knees close to her chest, and by now you’re done cleaning your wound and placing a new bandage on your head. Joel has his hand on his head, his face was expressionless and exhausted. Ellie asks you and him the same question, “Are you okay?” You nod and Joel replies with, “I’m all right.” He struggles with the debrief but he gets the question out to Ellie, “Are you all right?” And she simply replies with, “Yeah.”

You watch Joel struggle to find the words to express his emotions and feelings, his reserved nature is slowly crumbling, brick by brick. He shakes his head, “Thing is, is I didn’t hear that guy coming, and… You shouldn’t have to… You know.” Ellie brings her eyes to look at him, “Well, you’re glad I did, right?” She said. His voice falters, “You’re just a kid. You shouldn’t know what it means to… It’s not like you killed him. But… shooting or… I know what it’s like the first time that you hurt someone like that.” The young girl says nothing and simply stares at him in silence. He tries again, “If you… I’m not good at this.”

“Yeah, you really aren’t.” Ellie says, and if it wasn’t so somber, if you were safely at home watching this, you would have laughed. You wonder if you should say something, but eventually figured that you needed to let them both bond and understand each other, it’s important to their story. While you believed your presence here was an accident. You push aside your feelings and stress to let them talk it out. 

“I mean it was my fault. You shouldn’t have had to… and I’m sorry.” Joel sighs and looks away at Ellie, and begins to cry silently with her face turning red,  you let her lean her head on your shoulder and it’s quiet. She goes to speak but her throat closes up, “It wasn’t my first time.” Joel looks at her after that to see her pure raw honesty.

Joel plays the idea in his head for a moment before coming to a decision, he reaches into his back pocket for the handgun he took from Ellie earlier, unloads the magazine, and removes the shell of the previous bullet from the chamber. The girl's head lifts from your shoulder as Joel kneels down on one knee in front of her, handing her the gun back, “Show me your grip.” Ellie does as she’s told and you watch Joel teach her the proper way to hold a firearm, “Finger off the trigger.” She holds it with one hand and Joel is unimpressed, “Now, who taught you that?” She mumbles in reply, “FEDRA school.” He nods his head, “Figures.”

Joel teaches her how to hold the gun with two hands, “Your thumb over your thumb. Left hand, squeezes down on the right. You got it?” She nods, her thumbs interlocked, which makes it harder to drop the gun when it recoils or if someone were to try and grab it. Joel holds both of her tiny hands in his calloused rough ones, “There you go. Look it.” He shakes it and the gun doesn’t budge, completely steady. She giggles as he tries again and you smile, Joel then says, “Okay?” While Ellie nods, seemingly happy, he gestures to her to give him the gun and he loads the magazine back in the gun and then hands it back to her.

Ellie takes it and as she is about to place it in her back pocket, Joel stops her, “Nuh-uh. You put it in your pack. You’ll shoot your damn ass off.” He groans a little as he stands up again and you give Ellie a high-five and she laughs again. Joel walks to your side and this time it’s your turn, he kneels in front of you and you’re wide-eyed. He gently brushes away some of your hair and checks on your wound, you feel his fingertips graze along the plaster of your band-aid. Lightly, you touch his wrist and say, “I’m fine. Promise.”

None of you move for a bit, but then he slowly pulls away and stands to remove the wooden planks boarded up on the door, you also get up to help him. He holds on to the door handle and sighs, “We’ll get through this.” Ellie blinks once and then nods, “I know.” A beat passes and he pulls open the door, you and Ellie following him out into the setting sun of the city.

OFFICE BUILDING, KANSAS CITY – NIGHT

The midnight blue covers the sky, the stars shine above you, and see the moon glimmer. You three find the side of the building but find the service door to be locked. You look above and point out a vent, Joel nods and turns to Ellie. Taking notice that Joel is this close to passing out on the ground after all the events that have happened, staying up all night to protect the both of you, driving for almost thirteen hours to get to Kansas City, and shooting a bunch of hunters. You offer to boost Ellie up to reach the vent, “Here, put your foot on my hand and then… One, two…” 

“Oh shit.” She curses and you reassure her, “It’s okay, I got you.” And she manages to push open the vent and climb inside, “Okay I’m in.” And Joel decides to give out instructions, “Take a look around first. Ellie.” But she doesn’t reply, he harshly whispers, “Goddamn it.” And you say to Joel, “Just give her a second.” And a moment later, Ellie swings the door wide open, “Where would you be without me, huh?” Joel frowns, “By now, Wyoming.” You smack his shoulder, which does absolutely nothing. He glances at you and you stare back, he then walks forward into the building as Ellie takes it in stride. “Oh, yeah. Walked into that one.” The door slams closed behind you three and you take out your own flashlight to click it open.

All three of your footsteps echo around the building, while lights from your flashlights moved about the space. A minute later you see the door to a staircase that leads to the rooftop, you all walk over to it and Joel says, “All right, we’ll make our way up, and come morning, I’ll take a look at the city and find our way out.” He pushes the door open, and it squeaks as he does, shining the light in one hand and his revolver in the other, checking the dark area to make sure there’s no threat.

He walks straight while you and Ellie trail along, “We’re going up forty-two flights?” She groans, and Joel adds, “Forty-five.” The door behind you closes and you shine your flashlight to the ceiling, looking at the seemingly never-ending staircase. “But no. Not all the way.” He says, and Ellie asks, “How far?” Joel takes a breath, “As far as I can make it.” You and Ellie giggle at him and follow right behind the grump, footsteps sounding on the concrete steps of the building as you make your way up each floor. 

After twenty flights of stairs, Joel is gripping the hand railing, slightly winded already, you are trying to manage your breathing with all the cardio, while Ellie is only lightly panting, she takes an opportunity to ask a question, “Hey, you know that guy who said he was hurt? How did you know it was an ambush?” Joel stops before the next landing and catches his breath, “I’ve been on both sides. It was a long time ago. We did what we needed to survive.”

“You and Tess?” She asked, and he nods, “And the people we were with. My brother too.” He looks up to check how many more to go, while Ellie can’t help herself, “Did you kill innocent people?” He turns to look at her with an unreadable expression, but doesn’t answer her question, “Come on.” But already you both already knew the answer, and still followed him anyways.

It’s a few minutes later and Joel pushes the fire exit door open and holds it out for you and Ellie to walk through. “Holy shit.” Ellie curses and Joel leans on the wall, “Yeah.” And slides down the wall completely exhausted. You are soaked with sweat and trying to catch your breath, using one hand to lean on the door as it closes by itself. “Thirty-three floors. That’s good.” The young girl comments, and you hear Joel wheeze, “It’s gonna have to be.”

Ellie makes her way over to him and kicks his boot, “Come on.” And holds out her small hand, Joel groans, “Give me a minute.” But Ellie doesn’t agree, “Get up, you lazy ass.” That does it, he grips his hand with hers and helps him up, while you finally got enough oxygen back into your system. Joel grits his teeth, “Lazy ass. Fifty-six years old, you little shit.” Ellie giggles and you smile wide and continue to trail after him.

Joel grabs a fire extinguisher to break through the glass of one of the office doors, the sharp sound of glass shattering rings throughout the room, and Joel reaches in to shake the handle open.

You and Ellie prepare to sleep, and you realize that there aren’t enough cushions for the three of you. Joel scatters glass on the ground as Ellie sits on her makeshift bed, and calls out his name as you sit cross-legged on the carpet, silently contemplating sleeping on the floor. He doesn’t hear Ellie the second time, too busy dumping out the glass.

But the third time she yells out his name he finally turned, “What?” He grudgingly says, and she asks him pointedly, “What are you doing?” And replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “I don’t want someone sneaking up on us while we’re sleeping.”

He puts the bucket down and Ellie realizes what he meant, “Oh, I get it. Crunch, crunch, crunch…” He walks over to the couch cushions on the floor and Ellie questions him, “Are you sure you’re gonna hear it?” Joel takes offense to her asking him that, “Of course, I’ll hear it. That’s the damn point.” Ellie leans back, “Okay. Well, good night.” And he gives a small, “Yeah, goodnight.”

You prepare to sleep on top of your backpack and Joel says your name, “What are you doing?” You turn your head to him and swallow, “Um, there’s not enough cushions. It’s okay though, I’ve slept on the floor before.” His eyebrows furrow and he huffs, “You sleep on mine then.” You shake your head, “Joel, you stayed up late, floored it all the way to Kansas City, fought three hunters, and then walked up thirty-three flights of stairs. You’re literally fifty-six and wheezing. You’re exhausted, so it’s okay, you can have it.”

Joel places his hands on his hips as he stares down at your figure, “That isn’t right though, you’re equally as tired and you got injured earlier. So take the damn bed.” He argues, this was slowly going to become a full-on debate that could have lasted till the morning, but Ellie butts in, “Why don’t you guys just share?” Immediately, your eyes go wide, and feel your face grow warm. You begin to stutter as you try and explain to her why that would be inappropriate, “Um, Ellie… I don’t think that’s—”

“Fine.” You hear him say and your head quickly turns to look at Joel, almost giving you a whiplash as you did. You blink wildly at him and shakily say, “You don’t need to–” He gives you no chance to finish your sentence, “I said fine. Do you want to share or not?” Jesus fucking Christ. What the hell is happening? He didn’t just offer that, did he? Your mouth gapes open like a fish out of water, not knowing how to act or find the right words for this. You take a deep inhale and try not to stumble over your words as you stared into his dark chocolate-brown eyes, “Are you… sure?”

He nods and gestures to you to lay down, you pinch your lips and swallow away your nerves and climb atop the cushions, using your own jacket as a pillow. Joel quietly does the same and faces the opposite of you. You bring your hands to your mouth, they’re slightly trembling as you try and calm your racing heart. Ellie is looking at you with a smirk, that cheeky little shit, she’s playing matchmaker. You mouth out the words, “Fuck you.” Which causes her to grin wider, happy with what she’s accomplished.

“Hey.” Joel's voice is deep and low from behind you, and you raise your eyebrows at Ellie, she replies, “Yeah?” He proceeds to ask, “When we were talking about hurtin’ people, what did you mean it wasn’t your first time?” You give Ellie a sad smile knowingly, the places may have changed, but at its core, the story stayed the same. She changes her position to lay flat on her back and stares at the ceiling, “I don’t want to talk about it.” He doesn’t push her and settles, “All right.” After a second he rolls over to his left and lifts his head up, to look at Ellie, you are now inches apart from him brushing his hand on your waist, he tells the kid, “You don’t have to. I’m just saying… it isn’t fair, your age having to deal with all of this.”

Ellie looks to the both of you, “So it gets easier when you get older?” You snort, “God, no.” And Joel shakes his head, “No. Not really. But still.” Ellie doesn’t say anything back to him for a bit, and he sighs, you feel his breath along the back of your neck, causing your spine to shiver at the sensation. “The reason I asked whether you’d hear the glass or not, is because Miss Birdie and I have noticed you don’t hear too well from your right side. Is it ‘cause you were shot there?”

“Probably more from shootin’. So if you wanna keep your hearing, you stick to that knife.” He says and lays back down again, rolling back over to his right side and closing his eyes, Ellie says both of your names and you look at her, waiting, “Did you know diarrhea is hereditary?” He glances over his shoulder, “What?” And Ellie continues, “Yeah. It runs in your jeans.”

You didn’t know if your humor was broken, or if you were traumatized, or just exhausted, but you giggled with her and hear Joel whisper, “Jesus.”

He shakes his head, and you and Ellie continue to giggle, “That is so goddamn stupid.” But Ellie points out, “You laughed, motherfucker.” You hear the smile in his voice, “I didn’t laugh.” The kid throws back at him, “Yes, you did.” And you agree with her, “Yeah, you most certainly did, cowboy.”

He mumbles, “Jesus, I’m losin’ it,” and you loudly agree, “Yep, you are and so am I.” 

And then his invisible walls came down and allowed himself to be vulnerable, to laugh at Ellie’s stupid joke. Finally, letting his baggage down, if he was being honest, he was so tired of being afraid, and this feeling of weightlessness felt like euphoria. Your cheeks rise to meet your eyes and lines appear as you smile, listening to both of their laughter. Though the storms will push and pull, you three are slowly beginning to form a home. The years, while they were here, haven’t been so kind, but the melody of laughter reminds you to keep your heart open wide. Slowly finding the strength and the nerve it takes to keep going because you know what lies beneath is the greatest thing you have. To trust that there will be light always waiting behind even in the darkest of nights. Somehow you will all be okay.

OFFICE BUILDING, KANSAS CITY – A FEW HOURS INTO THE NIGHT 

You feel something heavy and warm draped over your waist, and your head resting on something firm beneath your head. You hear Ellie yell out both of your names in urgency and blink your eyes open to find yourself wrapped up in arms, with your head on his chest. You take a deep inhale, turn your head slightly, and tap Joel awake, his eyes open, alert and confused, to see Ellie kneeling on the cushions with her hands up and Henry pointing a gun at her head. Shit.

And you both turn to look in front of you, a little boy, Sam, with orange paint on his face resembling a superhero mask, pointing a gun at you both, he brings his pointer finger to his lips, indicating for you to be quiet. Joel tries to shield you from the boy, covering your figure with his large frame, gripping your waist so tight, and breathing through his nose heavily. You feel a little paralyzed, as you can’t help but watch the train wreck about to happen right in front of you.

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter

END NOTES:

This was probably one of the most difficult chapters to write because of all the technicalities and this episode was definitely more centered around Ellie and Joel’s relationship so I didn’t want the reader to completely overshadow that HHEHEHEHE ONE BED TROPE The moment I watched that episode, I immediately thought, I’m writing a one-bed trope (idk if i got it right tho lol I tried to make it realistic??) I had to cut a huge ass important memory from the reader but decided again it's TOO SOON also it wouldn’t add anything to the plot so I’ll add that in later My bad for taking too long to finish this chapter, it was the most intimidating episode for me to write, the loss of innocence is also the main theme of this part of the show, and my experiences with losing innocence are WAY DIFFERENT so it proved it harder to write about You can see Joel slowly giving in and opening up to both you and Ellie Tbh, to me, this is one of the more mediocre chapters I’ve written thus far but I can’t seem to edit it anymore T^T Ellie absolutely adores you and 100% looks up to you hehe (Also she definitely wants you to get with her father figure) cAN SOMEONE UPDATE ME IF THEY WERE AT A TRUCK STOP OR GAS STATION BCS I’ve read sO MANY DAMN ARTICLES trying to figure out what it was and I just settled for a truck stop T^T Thank you, guys, so much for all your kind questions, comments, and feedback aHHH IT TRULY MEANS THE WORLD TO ME Lastly, this is the last call for the taglist before I close it! OKAY BYE OFF TO EPISODE 5 I GO WRITE HNGGGG   - Grace

TAGLIST:

@memento-mora @elijahssuit @tartiflvtte @lillylilly2 @kyuupidwrites @amethystwonder11 @syd-vixious @kidkrow666 @soulofapatrick @ponyboys-sunsets @superflymaterial @chaotic-imposter @vainbimbo @eva-stark @loki-an-idiot @littleshadow17 @undermoonlightwalk @afternoon-evening @notmysunnydale  @slurmp69 @gyllord @aerangi @mac5323 @friskynotebook @earth-to-lottie @chaotic-imposter @kodzuvk @hawkins-2000 @reallysparklychaos @trust-dreamcatcher @darkened-writer @memeorydotcom @welcomebackfelicia @rainbowpitofdoom @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @marvelsimpcz @dorck26 @evienorville @munsons-queen @little-miss-bi @mxltifxnd0m @ohjoelmiller @coalix @taestrwbrry @avengersheart @gyllord @valentine-babe

Edit: Sorry for the notif twice! The taglist completely bonked itself :,)

[theawkwardanglophile]

Ranking The Rookie's season finales

I tried to be fairly objective, but yeah, that didn't really happen. Oh well, here we go!

6) SEASON 2 (The Hunt): When this first aired, it felt like huge stakes and was so stressful, but now, it just doesn't hit as well. I hate Armstrong was a dirty cop. Nolan was just acting dumb in this ep (shocker, I know). 😂 I didn't like Tim's sudden change of heart to make things work long-distance with Rachel, although we all know how that worked out. So yeah, it goes in last place.

5) SEASON 1 (Free Fall): They definitely weren't going as big with the finales yet, although this is a great Chenford episode, and there was a little cliffhanger with whether Tim would be ok. I wasn't as invested with the show yet when this aired. Tim was still my least fave character at the time, and I almost didn't come back for S2. I'm so glad I did, though!

4) SEASON 6 (Escape Plan): I might feel differently over time ranking it here, but for now, this is where it lands. It was...good, I guess. The truck scene was *chef's kiss*. But SO MANY VILLAINS. I couldn't keep up because every two minutes there was a new name or new character. I still don't know how it ties back to the beginning of S6. 🤷‍♀️ And while I never expected Chenford to get back together here, I'm still sad they're broken up in the first place. The elevator scene was sort of hopeful, but I think we deserved a little bit more.

3) SEASON 4 (Day in the Hole): If it wasn't for the insanely boring Nolan desert plot that went on FOREVER, this one would be higher. Because the Dim & Juicy doppelganger plot was the most delightfully unhinged story they've created, and it was so much fun. And our very first Chenford kiss! That kiss saved my summer that year. I had butterflies for weeks, and was just so giddy.

2) SEASON 3 (Threshold): This is how you do a season finale. I love this ep so much. Lots of high stakes. I loved the flirting scene. And even though I've never been crazy about Lucy being UC, she does an incredible job throughout the ep. I love Tim being Man of Honor and trying to save Angela's wedding. And of course, SAVE ME A DANCE. GEEZ, that scene is everything. 🫠 Then Angela being kidnapped at the end as the cliffhanger. I literally threw a pillow at the tv when this ep ended because those last few minutes were just SO MUCH.

1) SEASON 5 (Under Siege): This one has the highest stakes out of any of the finales, and a huge cliffhanger. So many scary moments for the squad, especially not knowing if Aaron would be ok. Tim and Lucy's hug was beautiful, as all of theirs are, and their fight scene was incredible. "I'm happy it's you at my six." ❤️ This finale just feels the most cohesive, and it works really well.

I'd love to know your rankings, too!

[blushweddinggowns]

Eddie was…struggling to say the least. And by the end of the first week of sticking around this city, he was completely out of ways to rationalize what the fuck he was still doing here. 

Indianapolis was just supposed to be a pitstop after visiting Wayne. Then, he was supposed to see Chrissy in a few days, spend some time in San Francisco before jet setting around the world for his year-long vacation. But instead here he was, avoiding Chrissy’s calls, opting instead to take the coward’s route of sending cryptic texts and reassurances that he was fine. Despite the fact that he’d canceled his flight a few days ago. 

And for what? Some hot guy he had only seen twice? That he couldn’t even get past first base with?

And while technically it was the best date of his life, that didn’t exactly warrant whatever the fuck he was doing here. And that wasn’t even mentioning all of the fucking lies. 

It was safe to say that he was floundering over here. Which was so fucking stupid. He was Eddie fucking Munson for God’s sake, not some lovesick highschooler. And he was sure that there were many easier flings to be had in his immediate future if he just left. This was when it was time to abort the mission right? He hadn’t gotten what he wanted, and that was that. 

So why was that so hard to accept? Why was he so fucking obsessed with this dude? Eddie had no fucking clue. Well…maybe he had some clue. Because Steve was funny. And he was smart, adventurous, and interesting enough for Eddie to want to know everything about him. Not to mention painfully attractive. And then add in being a complete sweetheart on top of everything else. 

All Eddie knew was that he wanted to see him again. And leaving now felt…wrong. Because Steve liked him. He obviously liked him, or at least Eddie really hoped he liked him. He at least liked him enough to give him his number. And answer his calls.

They had been talking a lot in the past few days. Historically, Eddie had always hated phone calls, especially when a single text could usually save you a half an hour of awkward small talk. But with Steve…it was different. Everything with Steve was different. They didn’t even have to be talking about anything important. They spent an hour and a half the other night debating over plot holes in the Lord of the Rings franchise. 

He had been calling him from the hotel’s room phone, adding in yet another lie about forgetting his cell in his non-existent fumigated apartment. But he didn’t feel too guilty about that one. Especially since he went through the extra effort to buy a new real (fake?) cellphone. One that he had purchased specifically for talking to Steve with. Because no matter how much he liked the guy, he wasn’t breaking the cardinal rule of keeping his real number a secret. Not after the insane shit fans sent him the last time it accidently went public.

No, he did the much saner thing of dropping eight hundred dollars on a smartphone and an extra phone plan that he’d only use to talk to the dude he’d been dating for less than a week. 

He really was killing it with the circular logic these days. And it was getting harder and harder to ignore. This whole…thing had gotten away from him. And it was becoming a touch too insane for Eddie to keep rationalizing the lies. And it wasn’t even his usual brand of insanity, this felt almost clinical. 

But that didn’t stop him from dialing Steve’s number the second his new account was officially activated. 

It rang twice before Steve answered, “Hello?”

God, even the sound of his voice was enough to make Eddie shiver. 

“Hey it’s me,” Eddie said like a moron. Like Steve would recognize his voice after one date and a handful of calls-

“Oh Eddie, hi!” Steve said, and Eddie could hear the smile in his voice, “That’s so weird. I was literally just thinking about you. I’m guessing you got your phone back?”

It was the smallest bit disconcerting, that just the sound of his voice was enough to make Eddie’s heart beat like crazy. He was kind of used to being the guy who made people nervous, not the other way around. Though he had to admit, it was a little exhilarating to be on the other side of it.

“I did. And you were huh? What were you thinking about?” Eddie purred, more than a bit proud that his voice didn’t sound as shaky as he felt.  But if he was ever going to fuck this guy he needed to amp up the charm.

But unfortunately for him, Steve was very good at throwing him for a loop, “You know those Afghan Hounds with the really long hair? Well I just saw a black one that I swear looked exactly like you.”

Eddie barked out a laugh, loud and unbidden, “God, you really know the way into a man’s heart don’t you? Who doesn’t like being compared to a dog?”

“It was a very pretty dog,” Steve tried, “Extremely cute.”

Eddie laid back on his bed, smiling at the ceiling like an idiot, "You think I'm pretty?"

He couldn’t see him, but Eddie could swear that Steve was rolling his eyes before saying, "I think you know you're pretty. You’ve seen a mirror before right? Y’know, the shiny things that show your reflection?”

God, he could be such a little bitch. Eddie freaking loved it.  

“Well now you’re just making me blush,” Eddie laughed, hoping that it came off as a little sarcastic instead of painfully honest. 

“And I bet that’s pretty too. So what's up?"

Oh y’know, just obsessively thinking about you near constantly, “I was just wondering when I would get to see you again.” 

"Well, my sister's going to be at her girlfriend's place tonight. How do you feel about coming over? I know it’s late but-”

“I’d love to,” Eddie interrupted, already excited. If that wasn’t a green light for them going further Eddie didn’t know what was. In a few hours it would be nearly midnight. And Eddie was more than down for a booty call, “When?”

“Maybe a few hours? I can text you the address. I’m sorry that my schedule is so fucked, but y’know. Night shift.”

“No worries. Guess I’ll see you soon?”

“Looking forward to it.”

From the latest chapter of this fic, inspired by this post

[littlemisslipbalm]

August, honey, you were mine

Josh Kiszka x Fem!reader - Enemies to Lovers College!AU

When originally deciding to be a film and visual arts student, Y/N had thought her biggest issue would be getting a job after college. She hadn’t known that the other people in her major would actually be her greatest obstacle to completing her degree.

So this photo is insane and likely not accurate to the time that this would be set. However, IDC and he looks beautiful.

Separately, here is my College!AU Enemies to Lovers Josh fic... I started working on this over a year ago and really it's silly because I lost the feeling that I wanted him to be mean so maybe it loses steam, idk let me know what yall think pls and reblogs appreciated - lots of love xoxo etc. more to come.

Summary: Forced together by fate or maybe just scheduling, Josh and Y/N can't stand being in the same room together. Unfortunately, with classes and her shifts at the Lover's Inn, it seems that Josh is in her life more than ever. Can hate turn into love or has something been there since the beginning?

Word Count: 13 k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, enemies to lovers, nauseating fluff, SMUT 18+ (specifics below the cut)

oral (male receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, edging, mild? dirty talk, female masturbation, i think that's it!

-

When originally deciding to be a film and visual arts student, Y/N had thought her biggest issue would be getting a job after college. She hadn’t known that the other people in her major would actually be her greatest obstacle to completing her degree.

It wasn’t that everyone was annoying. Sure, film students could be a lot, especially for Y/N when she was planning on going into costuming and styling rather than other production aspects. There were just a few overzealous students who seemed to get under her skin more than others. 

Namely, Josh M. Kiszka. He was talented in many respects, begrudgingly she would admit that. However, his annoyances and shortcomings outweighed his talents tenfold. One spark of genius would cause ten pitfalls and plot holes, leaving a forest fire of destruction in his wake. 

His curly hair was disturbingly trimmed leaving a small rat tail at the nape of his neck for the majority of the time she had known him –at the beginning of this year he had finally cut it and seemed to be trying to grow it out but she didn’t care. He was absurd and even disturbing at times. His smile took up too much of his face when he grinned maniacally. And she could go on. 

Now, being in the same major as someone could be irritating at times, but in reality sharing one to two classes a semester shouldn’t be the end of the world. Sometimes it certainly felt like it with Josh since it seemed like he turned everything up to an 11 on purpose. A bursting zipper was a catastrophe, the wrong colored shirt was the work of the devil. But realistically, she only should’ve seen him at most eight hours out of her week – if she could avoid being paired with him for any group projects. She could do eight hours of him droning on about the intricacies of a film and chattering away about his new big idea. 

What she couldn’t do was essentially work for him. And she didn’t work for him. At all. But he certainly seemed to think so every Thursday night. 

The first time Josh Kiszka walked into the green room at Lover’s Inn, the college town's local venue made for serious music and serious drinking, while Y/N was working, she thought it was some sick joke. She chalked it up to the fact that her karma must be god awful and this was her cosmic punishment. 

She had worked there for two years before this, consistently doing backstage work happily for the experience of potentially helping musicians with costuming and styling if they ever took her up on her offer. Mostly, her job consisted of fulfilling riders and babysitting. 

On this fated Thursday, it was raining as the fading summer quickly turned into a blustery fall. The trees faded quickly, changing just as fast as they had blossomed. The biting cold of the rain had soaked her hair so when she burst through the stage right door, a spray of rain flew from her head as she gasped in the warm room temperature air. 

First rain made people drive terribly, making her later than she would’ve liked to set up the things requested by the band tonight. She was slightly bummed that because she was rushing, she might not have a chance to offer her assistance with styling of the new band, but she thought she’d just ask to help them out at a later date since her manager had told her that if they played well tonight they were going to get the recurring Thursday night spot. 

Greta Van Fleet was their name, which she thought was cool, but given their rider, she had a funny feeling that they were probably like most local Michigan bands, mediocre at best, creeps at worst. 

The two cases of beers as well as some strange hippie bullshit snacks gave her the inkling of what to expect. 

The moment she hears her name from a particular voice, a pit of dread opens up in her stomach. She didn’t know exactly why he was here but she knew instantly that tonight was going to be a long, long night. She finished straightening out the tea corner the band had requested and swiveled around to face the curly-haired bastard. The stupid smirk was already on his lips and his eyes were full of the tell-tale mischief that came with Josh. 

“You got a crush on me or something?” He quirks his head with a raise of his eyebrows. “What are you doing here?” 

Josh knew she didn’t have a crush on him. Quite the opposite of it, but he loved to see her get furious with him. It brought him insurmountable joy. 

“Never in your most self-serving, indulgent fantasies,” She seethes and juts a hip and folds her arms across her chest, taking on a defensive stance immediately. “I work here, Josh. What are you doing here?” 

He grins, taking a few more steps into the room before pausing and looking around for a moment. His eyes cast around the worn leather couches, the two rugs mismatched and covering one another, a circular coffee table that had clearly seen too much cocaine in its heyday, and the table filled with snacks and drinks perfectly placed for his band’s amusement, before returning to his classmate staring at him with an appalled but also concerned face. 

“Work, of sorts,” He shrugs, the smile never leaving his face. “Moreso play.” 

She rolls her eyes but feels her breath hitch as Josh crosses the room further, coming extremely close to her. Her eyes widen as he continues to smile at her with an innocence she knew was an act. It doesn’t leave his intensely sculpted face that was unseasonably tanned for Michigan, even if summer had just ended. His hand reaches out to the right of her frame and plucks a fruit snack pack from the basket she had placed them in five minutes prior. 

“Those are for–” 

“The band?” He asks, his head cocked to the side once more, after finishing tearing the bag open with nimble fingers. “Thanks, by the way, lover. You got my favorite brand.” 

The pure joy Josh had just found in seeing her face contort in disgust at the nickname he had just come up with meant it wasn’t going away anytime soon. He thought he was clever for calling her something inaccurate yet also fitting since her place of work was called Lover’s Inn. In his eyes, it was perfect. 

“You’re not…” She trails off seeing the delight in Josh’s features. 

He nods, not taking a step back from her personal space and popping an organic fruit snack into his smug mouth. “I am. The lead singer, actually.” 

She turns back around to remove herself from the close proximity of Josh. “You’re just bullshitting me,” She mutters, shaking her head, refusing to believe him despite her knowing realistically, it was likely true. 

“No –” His next thought, likely one to continue his aggravating crusade, was cut off by someone else’s voice. 

“Josh, y’know you could help with the drum kit, like you’re supposed to,” A younger man with long flowing locks complains as he carries in two bass cases. His hair was damp, but drying, signifying the rain was subsiding. Josh’s hair had given no indication of the weather due to the drying but jarringly yellow umbrella that lay abandoned by the door. 

Once the cases are carefully set down in a corner of the room, he realizes that Josh was not alone. He uses a hand to flip his long hair back from his face and regards the other person in the room, coming to Josh’s side. 

“Hey,” He sticks the same hand out and has a goofily familiar grin on his face. “I’m Sam.” 

She takes his hand, telling him her name while giving his hand a shake before letting go rather quickly, she was confused. 

“You’re in the band,” She confirms to Sam, who nods affirmatively. “And Josh is in it too?” She asks more skeptically. 

“Sure is,” Sam looks at Josh quickly before smiling again, like an all knowing fox. “He likes to act like we’re already famous and don’t have to load our own equipment, but we’ll be lucky to score this gig, Ja–” 

“Okay, Sammy,” Josh cuts the younger boy off. “I’ll come out and help, just, shut the hell up.” 

Y/N quirks her head as she watches them shuffle back out of the same door she had come through twenty minutes prior, watching the way they interact with one another. She goes back to finishing up the table. It looked fine, but she still felt the need to turn all of the fruit snacks so that they were facing forward and make sure the extras of things she had bought were clearly accessible. 

Another younger guy with curlier hair walked in while she was still fussing over the table, a part of a drum kit on his back and a drawstring backpack in his hand. 

“I’m Danny,” He introduces quickly after shuffling off the large equipment bag and placing it on the outside of the green room door that leads to the rest of the venue. “Drummer.” 

She nods and introduces herself once more, directing him to the table of the fulfilled rider items and that she was around to answer any questions that weren’t specifically technical. Her job, after fulfilling the rider, was handling the band before and after they performed, essentially. She attempted to make that more styling and costume related, but in reality she just was there to make sure no one got too hammered before going out on the stage and no one passed out in the green room afterwards. It was a small venue and therefore a small crew but thankfully, she didn’t have to worry about the instruments as well. Just the people. 

When Josh returned to the room through the side door, she was still waiting at the entrance. Her body leaned against the inner frame of the door. It was shut to keep the noise of the rest of the venue out of here, and vice versa. She didn’t want to be in the room any longer than she had to be, but she needed to check off with the entirety of the band. It was to ensure that all of them were here prior to their set and to check in with them about anything else they might need. Now that she knew Josh was in the band, she really wished she could just leave. She certainly was not going to ask about styling, she already had her allotment of fighting over clothing with Josh for the week in class on Tuesday. 

The surprising thing about Josh’s arrival is the second copy of him that appears behind him. Like the first stranger, he had long stringy brown hair and slopey dark brown eyes. Unlike Sam, however, he was literally identical to Josh. One realization came to her silently, Sam was Josh’s little brother, that’s why his grin had been so unnervingly familiar. 

This man, just two steps behind Josh, though, he was more than familiar. He was the spitting image of Josh except for his hair. 

She can’t stop this realization from being audible. As the two of them stand practically side by side as they converse with one another, seeming to almost mirror one another, she blurts out words before she can think twice. 

“Twins!” Her voice sounds overjoyed at the realization that they were identical. There was a hopeful glinting look in her eyes as her hands clasp in front of her and she smiles. The fact that Josh was a pain in her ass is forgotten for a moment because she finds it so interesting and unbelievable that identical twins were standing before her and that she had known one all along without knowing it. 

Josh stops speaking mid-sentence to regard her and he’s surprised by her reaction. The twin looks perplexed as well with a raised left eyebrow. She is wowed once more. 

Josh says her name and hands Danny the rest of his drum kit. “This is my other brother, Jake.” 

“And you’re twins? Identical?” She repeats after Jake waves. 

“I think you know the answer to that,” Josh throws his hands up in a theatric flourish adding to the condescending tone. 

Jake replies far more cordially. “What Josh means to say is, yes we are identical twins. Thanks for noticing.” 

“I’m sorry,” She back tracks, remembering the situation and laughing, still feeling off-kilter. “I’ve known Josh for two unbelievably long years and he’s never mentioned once that he has an identical twin brother that he’s in a band with – and he talks enough for it to have come up at least once.” 

Josh rolls his eyes with a huff of breath, deciding that he wants to continue helping with their equipment and belongings rather than listen to what he was sure was about to turn into a ‘shit on Josh’ situation. 

Jake’s laughter is loud and unadulterated as he crosses the room towards Y/N with the same smile his brothers had, except his didn’t make her want to wring his neck. “He’s always talked too much, I can asure you that. What makes you clearly an unwilling acquaintance of his?” 

The grin on her face feels like it’s taking up the entire room. Already, Josh’s twin was leaps and bounds ahead of him in terms of how much she wanted to be around this person. She also liked his hair, it was long and pretty, maybe it needed a good shampoo and condition but it didn’t have a rat tail, which was the biggest plus in her book. When Josh had returned this school year without it, she had rejoiced but also been slightly dismayed that she hadn’t had the satisfaction of snipping it off herself. On several occasions, she remembered waking up with a triumphant smile after cutting it off in some of her more vivid dreams. She wasn’t completely sure if she could be trusted with scissors around Josh so maybe it was better in the end. 

“We’re the same major, unfortunately.” 

“Oh,” Jake’s voice holds deep understanding. “I’m sure that can be a lot. I used to help out on his films when we were in high school, so I know he’s…passionate.” 

She snorts and shakes her head, acknowledging what he had said before once again remembering she was working. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.” She casts her eyes around the room and sees that the four guys are all in the room. Josh had returned and was trying and failing to look like he wasn’t eavesdropping on her and Jake’s conversation. “Anyways, now that I know you’re all here, I can leave you be. Just let me know if there’s anything you need before your set. The techs will come in around,” She pauses looking at her watch. “7:00 to have y’all go set up and go over that kind of stuff. You need to be out on that stage at 8, no if’s, and’s or but’s. Also, if you do get the recurring slot, I’d love to help y’all with styling if you’d be interested since that’s more my expertise.”

She hears Josh snort at her last sentence but she pointedly ignores it, only looking at the other three band members. 

“How do we find you if we need something?” Sam asks, settling into the darkest brown leather couch like a lanky puppy, all limbs and no idea how to control them gracefully.  

“I, uh,” She stops, realizing she normally handed out her phone number since she hated the radios they were supposed to use. For some reason, giving her number to Josh’s band made her uneasy and then she remembered with a sigh. “Josh has my number from previous group projects, assuming he knows how to use his phone he should be able to give it to you.” 

“What’s your number again?” 

“You don’t have me saved?” She’s exasperated to say the least and a little offended otherwise. They had quite literally been paired in a duo group project their first week of college, two years ago. If he hadn’t saved her number after all this time, she’s sure she would strangle him.

“I think I do,” He looks down at his phone, scrolling through something, “just double checking something.” 

“Give me your phone,” She rolls her eyes and places the palm of her hand out waiting for the weight of Josh’s phone to be felt. She types in her number into the search bar of his contacts. The names dwindle until only ‘August’ pops up. She finishes typing the entire number and the name ‘August’ is still staring back at her on the screen. She looks between the phone and Josh a few times before clicking the name and verifying that it was her phone number. 

“Why the fuck do you have me as ‘August’ in your phone?” 

Josh grins triumphant and satisfied. When she glares at him, he shrugs and plucks the phone back from her grasp. “We met in August, I didn’t remember your name from class and I didn’t bother to ask. By the time I knew it, I couldn’t be bothered to change it.”

“You can’t be serious?” 

“Is Lover better or worse than August? Because I’m willing to change it to that,” He continues looking at her with that wolfish look in his eye. 

“I fucking hate you.” She says with a shake of her head before addressing the rest of the room again. “Well, if any of you three need me, don’t hesitate to find me down the hall or get my number from the gremlin that fronts your band and shoot me a text. Josh, do not bother me.” 

“Only in my dreams, I know, lover.” Josh mimics being shot by an arrow in his heart and stumbles back before winking evilly at her. 

“Right,” She sighs heavily and tries to smile lightly at the other three who offer her sympathetic smiles back. “I’ll be back at 7:45 if no one needs me before then.” 

A chorus of thanks follows her out the door and she ignores Josh’s voice again as she goes. It’s pitched up and honeyed sweet and it makes her sick. 

That was the first night. They had been good. Josh’s voice was surprisingly amazing and the rest of them were talented with their instruments. Jake was especially good on the guitar. She tried to focus on the instruments rather than Josh’s voice but it was almost impossible to listen to just one piece of their music, they all complemented each other so well. Even Josh’s voice didn’t overpower but finished the rest of the music being made. 

They had also been clean and on time. Two things her manager liked even more than a good sounding band that amassed a crowd was a good sounding band that didn’t require a lot of assistance or cleaning up after. Greta Van Fleet secured the recurring Thursday night gig at Lover’s Inn. Which ensured that she got to endure more Josh Kiszka in her life than ever before. 

They would fight in class and bicker during group projects that they got paired for and then to end her week just perfectly, she’d have Josh at her place of work, continuing to push her buttons and attempting to boss her around. 

He delighted in calling her ‘Lover’ and being a nuisance when she was trying to help one of his bandmates. He always had issues with the vests and belts she found for him, despite them being exactly what he asked for, if not better. And he always, always had that stupid smug smirk on his face when he was around her. 

In the middle of the semester, the film and visual arts third years were assigned a very intensive project. It could be alone or in groups but you had to do it all if you did it alone. As luck would have it or maybe it was just a cruel joke being played on her by the rest of the department, she and Josh were the only two not paired up who didn’t want to work alone. She contemplated doing it all on her own, but she knew she wasn’t the strongest writer and with the rest of her classes and the Lover’s Inn gig keeping her busy, she had to swallow her pride. Bite the bullet that was Josh Kiszka now entering another part of her life: her life away from both school and work. 

They had looked at one another with dismay in their eyes. Even Josh couldn’t spin this as a way to torture her, this was genuinely not his ideal scenario for an important project either. They departed class on Wednesday with a sighing compromise that they would talk about it after the gig on Thursday. 

On Thursday, Josh arrived first out of his band mates to the green room. She was there, finishing up unloading the grocery bags and double checking the cleanliness of the room. Even if Josh was a pain in her ass, she didn’t let her negative feelings for him change how she did her job. 

“Well if it isn’t my number one fan, lover!” Josh greets, resting his backpack at the edge of the couch closest to the side stage door. 

She sighed. She rejoiced on the Thursdays when it was one of the others to stroll through the door first, so that she wouldn’t have to be alone with Josh anymore for the week. Bringing herself to face him was hard, she had already seen enough of him this week and after the big announcement in class yesterday, she really could do without hearing his voice. 

“I know you’ve probably heard this a lot before, so you should understand when I say ‘not in the mood’.” 

“Oh lover, you wound me,” He gives her moon eyes before he rolls his eyes and walks around the room, continuing to place his stuff where he liked. The band had been working here for two months now and each of them had gotten into a groove. They had their spots and corners that they liked to chill in until it was time to get to work. 

“Do you want your clothes or not?” She leans into her hip as she stares at him expectantly, waiting for him to stop messing around with the throw blanket’s tassels. 

“I’d certainly go out and perform naked, I’m sure lots of people would thank you for your brilliant idea. Me in my true glory.” 

She scoffs and crosses to her tote bag, dropped by the entrance. She shuffles through it for Josh’s new vest and the belt she found that matched it perfectly. The vest was tan with gold embellishments and looked like it would fit his small frame. The belt was also encrusted with gold broqaue and turquoise stones with a loud engraved buckle to finish it off. 

With the pieces in hand, she crossed to his seat on the couch. Josh had his legs spread in a way that required her to stand between them or else she would have to lean awkwardly forward to give the clothes to him. She hated even the way he sat, making her life harder. He reclined back on the couch with his arms over the back of it, the light blue ratty t-shirt he wore stretched and strained over his biceps the way he was sitting. Her eye flickered to it for a split second in mild surprise, obviously he showed them off in the vests, but they seemed to bulge in their current state. 

“Lay it on me, lover,” He grins lazily up at her, one hand flipping up right and motioning for her to give it to him. 

She shakes her head at him and drops them carelessly on his lap. The belt was heavy enough for him to make a groaning sound. Normally she would walk out of the room at this point, just to get a little bit of time away from Josh. The rest of the band was reliable and she knew they’d all have arrived in the next ten minutes. However, something about Josh’s demeanor made her pause. It was something in the way his eyes looked. 

Normally they were wide and bright with evil intentions. Today they still looked mischievous but a little more droopy, his movements a little less agile. She stares at his face, searching for the answer and noticing the way he just lets her. 

“Finally decided you want some of this action, lover?” Josh mumbles, eyes fluttering closed as he lays his head back against the couch. “Stopped denying your true feelings…” 

She crouches down to be on the same level as Josh, her face getting close to his as she inspects him closely. One of her hands goes to his eyelid, as she leans over him, opening his eye manually. 

“Are you fucking stoned, right now?” 

He swats her hand away from him and sits back up, pushing her back so that she’s still crouched between his legs. His face looms above hers, the lazy grin still visible on his face, as she stares up at him. Their faces are an inch apart and the space is hot in the already warm room. Her eyes widened expectantly. 

“Shh, don’t tell August, she’ll yell at me.” 

“I am…” She pauses, realizing Josh was still fucking with her. She puts a hand to his chest and pushes him back against the couch, causing laughter to bubble from his lips. “Fuck you, Josh.” She states, standing up again and stalking out of the room with a final. “Weed better not fuck up your singing, asshole.” 

“Thanks for the vest, lover!” 

Besides strutting around the stage a bit more sluttily and carrying notes just a tad bit longer than necessary, high Josh functioned about the same as regular Josh. After the show, the band loaded up their gear once more in the back of Danny’s van that they lovingly all called the Greta Van. Normally, Josh would hitch a ride home with him and Sam or hang around the front of house getting sloshed with his twin. Tonight, he begrudgingly sulked around the green room, informing his brothers that he ‘had a meeting with the bosslady.’ 

August had overheard it and rolled her eyes. “We’re unfortunately partnered for an extremely important project. I’m worried I made the wrong choice and should’ve just gone it alone.” 

She grimaced as Jake wished her luck while Sammy and Dan gave her sympathetic gazes, mumbling their condolences. 

“It can only be as bad as we make it, lover.” Josh huffed, resuming his seat from earlier on the larger of the leather couches. 

“Are you sober enough for us to begin planning now?” She glared and folded a leg behind her to take a seat on the far end of the same couch. 

Josh scoffed with a flip of his hand. “Oh c’mon it was just a couple bowls before going on to perform art.” Josh trailed off, mumbling as he stared around the room. 

“Repeat that?” She urged. 

“It’s not like it was the first time,” He repeated louder but still softly. 

She groaned. “God, Josh.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Y’know what? Fuck if I care. Let’s just get our plan laid out so we can go home.” 

Josh nodded curtly. Her eyes flickered to his face in surprise that he didn’t protest. 

“Okay,” She started, speaking cautiously. “I’ll obviously take the lead on costuming and you on writing, but we’ll need to collaborate on directing and creative direction. Do you have any ideas for stories you want to tell?” 

Josh hummed, head falling to the back of the couch in contemplation. “Cults, a modern Greek tragedy, a bar comedy –we could set it right here, erh star-crossed lovers? What about you or are you just gonna keep all your ideas to yourself?” 

“I was waiting to see if you had any worthwhile ideas.” She shrugged, scribbling something down on a notepad Josh hadn’t seen her produce. “The modern take on a Greek tragedy could be interesting…” 

“I also was thinking about something similar with a modern take on a classic film like ‘Singin’ in the Rain’ or something to that extent. I like the idea of a post-college existential crisis coming of age female lead type story but I doubt you’d care for that.” 

“No, no, no,” Josh sat up straight. “Don’t put your assumed misogyny on me! I’d love to do a female lead coming of age post-college existential crisis story! How dare you?” 

She smiled at her page and then up at Josh. “My mistake.” 

Their eyes met and the room felt eerily quiet with both of their mouths shut for once. The dingy yellow lights bathed the room in a homey glow. The worn leather was warm beneath their skin, inviting them to settle in. 

Then simultaneously, they said: “Modern take of a Greek tragedy that is a coming of age post-college female lead story!” 

“Fuck yes!” Y/N rose onto her knees in excitment as Josh’s entire face lit up, leaning forward in excitement.

“Let’s fucking go!” 

They laughed and high fived, feeling an unexpected and unknown emotion of shared understanding and initial accomplishment. They talked plot, characters and logline, the main bones of the project they needed to get started on and split up what each of them would flesh out for their next meeting. It was decided that it would be best to meet after class on Wednesdays rather than Thursdays after shows just so that they didn’t have to hang around Lover’s Inn when it was just the locals in the front of the house and so that Jake didn’t get too lonely when he wanted to drink himself under the bar. 

Josh felt a weird inclination to walk her to her car that night. He knew which car was hers, he always looked for it in the parking lot when he would pull up on Thursdays – a 90s classic black Volvo sedan with a dreamcatcher hanging on the rearview mirror. 

She had regarded Josh oddly when he insisted on walking her over to the car even though the parking lot was empty with plenty of light. Then she noticed again that the lot was empty beside her car and the bartender’s, who was still working. 

“Where’s your car?” 

Josh kicked at a pebble with his sneaker and shrugged his shoulders with his hands stuffed in his khakis pockets. 

She frowned remembering his high state earlier today. At least he was somewhat responsible, but with no foresight. “Did you want a ride?” 

“Nah.” He shook his head vehemently. “I walked in, I can walk out.” 

“Yeah,” She agreed. “But it’s dark out now.”

“It was dark out earlier.” He reasoned with his usual smirk trying to win his way out of this one. 

“Not this dark, not this cold,” She insisted, pushing his shoulder to move towards the passenger’s side door. “And not this late. Get in.” 

In the small interior of the Volvo, Josh took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed them together as she cranked the heat and shivered herself before getting her music playing. 

“Thanks,” Josh whispered, grateful. 

“Can’t have you dying on me,” She replied. As she pulled out of the parking lot, she was focused on backing up carefully, twisting around and switching gears, and she barely noticed when she finished her sentence under her breath. “For so many reasons.” 

In the dark of the car, lit only by the moon and streetlamps around, Josh watched her uninterrupted. She sang under the music she had chosen for the drive. A CD that had already been in the reader of Radiohead. 

Josh listened along to the dulcet melancholy voice of Thom Yorke. He likes how she knew all the words but paused every so often to look to Josh for directions.

“Nice house,” she said, turning down the stereo when they arrived. 

Josh shrugged, turning his head from her to the classic Michigan two-story with its basic driveway and porch. Dark wood everywhere and an old tree in the front yard. There were warm lights coming from a few windows in the house and it looked like a home.

“It’s fine. Jake, Sammy and I rent it from a family friend so it’s a good deal.”

“That’s nice.” She feels awkward, making small talk with Josh. 

It’s the antithesis of their usual relationship of bickering and jabbing and avoiding. It’s soft and casual. Warm and inviting in the familiar seats of her car, with her music. Josh kind of seemed at peace in her car. It was unusual, regarding him looking so quiet and calm. 

“Alright.” She breaks the silence.

Josh takes the cue, blinking out of whatever trance was keeping him from taking his leave from her car and getting into his house for the night. 

“Night,” he speaks softly. “Thanks for the ride…and, uh, see you Monday, I guess.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, watching him get out of the car, carefully taking his bag and his new vest and belt into his arms.

She waits for him to get inside before driving off. Still unsure of the feeling in her stomach, she blasts the Radiohead a little louder to drown out her speculations. 

-

By the end of November, they were almost through with the filming portion of their project. Yet it was time for a relatively complicated scene. Well, it shouldn’t have been complicated if the weather had been right but unfortunately they were venturing into true winter in Michigan. 

Josh and Y/N had settled on the tragedy of Hippolytus after attempting the tragedy of Medea but deciding it was too overdone — how many stories of a woman scorned by a man leaving her could we want? Instead, the twist of Hippolytus in the 21st century would allow for an interesting female lead whose story didn’t start because of a man. 

Instead, like Hippolytus, their lead had decided against sex and relationships during college. Josh and Y/N had worried about making it purity porn but decided that they would balance the true story with modernity enough that it would work. 

In the Greek tragedy, the woman interested in Hippolytus killed herself after being rejected by him, however that was another place they would depart. Instead, the counter to the lead would be hurt randomly and there would be a need for the lead to help them. This leads her to pursue psychology and therapy—medicine felt too cliche. But she knew she wanted to help people. Their bond eventually grows to love even though it’s not what she intended. However, both the therapy and the relationship help her find meaning to life, bringing her out of the existential crisis that started the story.

So they were filming the scene where the counter, James, was meant to get hurt. The short film was going to be narrated by a modern Aphrodite so some silliness was injected into it. She was interfering with the lead, Hyacinth, in hopes to persuade her to fall into bed with someone. 

James lived next door and was washing his car, shirtless, when Hyacinth walked out her front door, about to go to gym—another one of her ideas of how to find purpose in life, pushing her body until it had no energy to think. Jason was meant to have gotten soap all over him from leaning across the hood of the car, like a male fantasy but reversed, and then point the hose towards him and wash it all off sexily. Of course, the student they had cast, weirdly also named James, was attractive but he was an angel and an ex-theater kid, so he couldn’t quite get it right and he was beginning to shiver even though they had the water as warm as possible and were covering him up between every take.

Josh was attempting to hold back laughter but after the third bad take, Y/N yelled ‘cut’ and walked into the scene.

“James, here hand me the handle,” she said. 

Taking hold of the metal length at the end of hose that was turned off, she began to instruct James to do exactly what she was showing him. She turned it towards her and held it above her chest with her head tilted back, eyes closed. She sighed for a moment and then briefly moved up as if the water were hitting her face and then ran her free hand against her cheek, allowing her lips to open further and then ran the same hand down the front of her neck, down her chest and her stomach, brushing to the side just as she got to the top of her thighs.

James watched carefully, not phased by the directing. Josh gawked. His eyes almost bugged out of his head watching her and wondering if just maybe that’s what she looked like in a shower. Her soft hands would be running over her soft naked skin instead of her warm winter sweater and jeans, but still. He could imagine. The sudsy soap and bare skin touching the cool tiles and warm water. Fuck. He needed her to never do that again ever. 

The last month he had seen more of Y/N than he had ever thought possible. Except now, he looked forward to it without pretending it was because he wanted to bug her. Josh wanted to know what she was thinking about every aspect of their project and he wanted to hear about her weekend and he wanted to kiss her against the walls in the green room when his brothers weren’t there. He didn’t act on the third thing, but he wanted to.

“Josh?” She raised an eyebrow, still holding the hose above her chest. “Josh?” She repeated.

He blinked. “Huh?”

“I asked if you agreed? Does that fit with an Aphrodite induced sexy car wash scene you imagined?”

He smiled weakly and she tilted her head in silent worry. Hopefully Josh wasn’t getting sick.

Of course it is, doesn’t even need a Greek god to intervene and make it hotter, she just was. 

“Yeah, yep, fantastic,” Josh rushed. “James, you got it? We’re losing light.”

A cloud was rolling in from the east and Josh knew that if they didn’t finish soon they might get rained out.

James nodded and they ran the scene again. The actor nailed it and after Josh yelled cut, Y/N squealed in accomplishment. They high fived and Josh’s eyes linked on the side of her neck where her fingers had brushed as she had caressed herself minutes ago—professionally. 

After that, they wrapped for the day, Josh still concerned about the rain, sending the actors and helpers home. Y/N hung around to help Josh bring his equipment back into his house. They were using the front of it for the scene. On their last trip to grab things from the street, thankfully all non-electronic, the beginning of what would be a long rainstorm began in full force.

This time it was Josh to shriek and Y/N laughed as they ran under the awning of the porch after grabbing everything left as quickly and carefully as possible. It didn’t matter, they were pretty drenched.

She tried to catch her breath from running and laughing while Josh felt his hair with a look of dismay. 

“You know you’re stuck here,” Josh grumbled, looking out at the pouring rain. He hated the way she seemed to enjoy his displeasure at being wet. 

“As long as you’ve got a spare change of clothes, a hot shower and a gas stove in case the power goes out, I’m fine.” She shrugs, pushing the screen door open and putting her half of Josh’s stuff on the entryway bench. 

Josh followed behind with his binder and a few rain-ruined scripts.  

“Anyone else home?” She wanders through the hall to the living room, peeling off her sweater and leaving her boots by the wall. 

Josh shakes his head, “Probably not, it pisses Jake off when I film at the house and Sam usually goes to Danny’s on the weekend.”

She inspects her jeans and t-shirt before looking at Josh. “I want to shower now, can you find me clothes and put them in the bathroom before I get out?”

“Who made you queen?”

“This isn’t Lover’s Inn, I’m not on the clock and I’m your guest who’s trapped here…feel like you’re supposed to dote on me.” 

Josh rolled his eyes, feeling the memory of their feud flickering like an ember in the pit of his stomach. He wants to tease her, say something biting to turn the tables on her. But she was right, they weren’t in any of the situations they were usually in with one another. More uncharted territory. 

“You’re annoying,” he offered lamely. 

She chuckled and pushed at his shoulder lightly as he passed, assuredly showing her to the bathroom. “Try harder, lover.”

Josh scoffed without turning his head around, but the feeling in his stomach grew as he heard her feet padding behind him. The rain was loud on the tall roof, fast and foreboding. It might’ve been adding to Josh’s unease. 

At the end of this new hallway, there were three doors. One to a bedroom, Josh’s, a closet and the bathroom. He opened the closet to grab fresh towels he kept for when he didn’t want to do laundry that week and walked them into the bathroom.

It was surprisingly clean but Josh had his own bathroom, forcing Jake and Sam to share the other one, claiming he was the oldest so he got the most privacy. 

She smiled at the tub. “Should I have a soak instead? Do you have any good wine?”

“This is not a fucking hotel,” Josh laughed. He handed her the towels and she gave him a pointed look. “But I’ll open a bottle.”

“Good boy,” She continued to smirk. “Maybe I’ll leave a nice tip.” 

Josh pinkened slightly. She’d never been like this before. He felt like he was falling into some world where Aphrodite really was fucking with his life. 

15 minutes later, Josh returned to the bathroom where Y/N was showering and pushed the door open. She had music playing but he could hear the water still running. 

He walked in and placed the sweatshirt and clean boxers on the counter. Her wet clothes were in a puddle on the floor beside the shower mat and he swallowed. A pretty pink lace thong and a black lacy bra laid atop her top and jeans. He took a breath and went to head for the door, turning away from the clothes. But Y/N’s own breath caught his attention. 

Her grunge 90s music was playing from her phone but she was breathing hard and Josh stopped short. His eyes shot to the shower curtain. The place he had been avoiding with all his power. It was sheer. Her silhouette was hard to see but it looked like it was writhing. He saw one of her hands slipping around her chest and he bit his lip. She was certainly squeezing her tits and she was breathing hard and he couldn’t see her other hand.

He put his own hand to his mouth to stop any shocked sounds slipping out. She must have forgotten that he was coming back. When he saw her silhouette drop to the floor of the tub, Josh snapped out of his trance.

He grabbed the clothes and slipped out the door, closing it as quietly as possible just as he heard a breathy ‘fuck’ he would dream about for weeks. 

“Shit,” he whispered to himself. Letting his head fall against the now closed door, he took a deep centering breath before knocking loudly. “I’m leaving your clothes out here, kay? Gonna open that wine.”

Her voice was normal in response and Josh was wondering if he had just hallucinated. Had he accidentally taken a gummy and forgotten. Seemed unlikely since he usually wouldn’t when he was working on film stuff. 

“Sounds good! Thanks, Josh!” 

Josh tried to be normal when she came into his room in his clothes, rubbing his towel through her wet hair. He’d left the wine and two mismatched glasses on his bedside table. He mumbled that she could start without him as he passed her to jump in the shower himself.

On the fogged main mirror, she had written, “don’t work when it’s about to rain!” 

Josh smiled to himself and stripped down out of his clothes that were still uncomfortably wet. His shower was much quicker and much colder. He couldn’t allow himself to be in there for very long or else he would’ve started to fantasize about what he was certain had just happened in here. 

In his room, Y/N sat on his bed, taking large sips of the red wine Josh had found. She was nervous. Something about this storm was making her uneasy. The scene they had shot had done something to her. Everytime she looked at Josh, she swore he was eyefucking her and that made her feel strange. Extremely turned on. She had thought dealing with it in the shower would’ve solved it but the minute she walked out and saw Josh looking so sullen, still in his rain-soaked clothes sans his jacket, waiting for her to get out, she felt wet again. If anything, the quick wank had made it worse. Already slick and wanting, she wasn’t sure if she could handle being around just Josh for the night. 

Now that they were friends, she couldn’t deny how attractive he was. God, it made her roll her eyes. He was talented and attractive and she was sitting in his bed, drinking his wine in his comfy clothes all at her request. 

If it couldn’t get any worse, Josh walked into his room with his towel hanging around his hips and his chest speckled with droplets coming down from his hair. 

“Didn’t have time to dry off?” She tilted her head, trying to sound casual. Unbothered when she was fully, terribly, bothered. 

Josh shook his head, making more droplets fly around the room. “Forgot my own clothes.” He shuffled through his myriad of t-shirts and grabbed a gray one with a Buddhist symbol and black sweatpants. 

“You sound like you need a drink,” she tried. 

“Yes,” Josh sighed as if he was coming out of a desert with no water. He held his hand out and she quickly poured the second glass and placed it in his waiting hand.

Their fingers brushed and both of them pulled back as if they’d been burned. She met Josh’s widened, brown eyes looking dark in his navy room that was shadowed by the storm and his one yellow lamp. He clutched carefully to his towel and the clothes under his arm with the wine in his other hand, taking a long sip as he turned on his heel and returned to the bathroom. 

She let her head hit the headboard of Josh’s bed. What the fuck was going on? She took another sip of her wine and then refilled the glass up high. 

When Josh returned clothed, he sat on the foot of the bed and she silently refilled his glass when she saw it was already empty. 

“So…what do you want to do?” She tries while folding her legs up under her chin. 

Josh’s eyes flicker to the movement and get stuck on her legs for a moment before returning to her face. 

“Movie?”

She shrugs, looking around his room for a television. “I don’t want to sit in your living room, your couch looks uncomfortable.”

“That’s where you’re sleeping if you can’t get home tonight,” Josh scoffs. 

She arches an eyebrow and takes a sip of her wine. “I’ll sleep in Jake’s bed, he won’t mind.”

“No.” Josh stated flatly.

Her eyes turn back to him, cautiously. “Why not?” 

“It’s weird.”

“No it’s not.” She sounds annoyed, placing her wine down and picking up her phone. “I’ll just text him and ask.” 

The text sends and she smirks at Josh pointedly. Shortly after, a loud crash of thunder signals the power leaving for the rest of the storm and with it, the phone signals. 

Josh smirks triumphantly over his glass when Y/N throws her phone dejectedly on the side table too, while he flicks on his battery powered lamp he had grabbed earlier as a precaution. 

“Couch it is.”

She lays sideways along the top of Josh’s bed and hums, raising her hands above her head, allowing the bottom of the sweater to lift and expose her stomach. Feeling perfectly buzzed from the wine, she sighs, “I don’t know, this feels pretty comfy and I’m already settled. Maybe you should sleep on the couch since you love it so much.” 

Josh watched her body extending across his bed and simultaneously wanted her there forever and to throw her out. 

“Absolutely not. This is my house.”

“And I’m the guest,” she repeats. “C’mon lover, don’t be mean.” 

“You’ve never seen mean,” Josh rolls his eyes and finishes his wine, laying it with hers on the table.

She laughs, outrageously loud. “You’re a lot of things, Josh. But I don’t think you’ve got a truly mean bone in your body or however that cliche goes. Evil sure, but that’s different.” 

She hasn’t bothered to sit up and she’s enjoying the tone of voice Josh is slipping into and everything feels quite nice and warm. So warm. She shuts her eyes. 

“No, no,” Josh hurries, moving himself so that he is closer to her. He pats her cheek lightly. “No falling asleep in my bed. Not allowed.”

“But I’m so comfy and cozy,” She croons, blinking her eyes back open. The smirk on her face gives her away. 

“C’mon.” Josh takes her shoulders to push her upright. “Sit up.”

She laughs, but it dies out, recognizing the proximity of Josh’s face to hers. How his body is hovering over hers. How warm she is. “Fuck,” she whispers, staring at his lips, slightly stained from the wine.

“What?” Josh whispers back, realizing the same things as her. How soft the smallest bit of her skin is against his finger that’s on her shoulder, slipping along the collar of the sweater. 

“Your lips are red,” she states. 

Josh grins and lets his head fall between them with a laugh. “So are yours.”

He looks back at her and remembers the way she sounded in the bathroom. All the years he’d known her. All their fights. And how they weren’t really fighting anymore. How he teased her at Lover’s Inn and how good she’d been as his partner this last month and a half. 

“What are we going to do with no power, August,” Josh whispered, already inching his face closer to hers. 

She smiled and let her hands reach up to cup his face and neck. “Read the Bible by candlelight?” She whispered back as Josh’s nose nudged against hers.

He breathed a laugh across her lips and her breath caught in her throat when he finally attached his lips to hers. They kissed softly, just taking it in. Josh shifted them into a more comfortable position, one leg slotting between hers, while the other supported him so his torso wasn’t fully on her. 

She whimpered immediately at the pressure and Josh smirked. He pressed harder, licking into her mouth. 

She gasped when Josh began to kiss her neck and he spoke against her neck in between sucking against the skin. “I heard you.” 

“W-what?” She was staring at the ceiling while she ran one hand against his shoulder and the other through his hair. 

“I. Heard. You.” Josh repeated, allowing one of his hands to run under the sweater up towards her breast and she whimpered again. “Fuck,” he loved the way she sounded. “In the shower, lover.” 

Her eyes shot wider, the haze of Josh’s lavishing touch disappeared with shame. “You did?”

Josh pulled back with a lazy grin, still playing with one of her nipples under her shirt and pecks her lips quickly. 

“Yeah you fuckin’ told me to bring your clothes in because you’re a princess apparently and then you were in there getting off when I walked in.” 

She felt embarrassed but remembered what was likely about to happen so it didn’t really matter. “Oh…I tried to deal with it quietly. I was just really turned on for some reason.” 

Josh scoffed and retreated his hand from under her sweater. “C’mon,” he gestured to the sweater. 

They were still acting like film partners through this interaction. Or at least how they acted. Talking casually while in the beginning of a sexual encounter. 

She took it off and threw it to the ground while staring pointedly at Josh’s shirt. He followed suit before kissing her again. His chest looked so soft and warm, she wanted to be wrapped up in him.

“First, I almost had a heart attack at the sight of your thong and then I turned to leave and you’re in there playing with this thing.” He pauses his words, slipping his hand inside the boxers she was wearing, cupping her pussy. 

She whines, extending her neck to kiss Josh’s. Feeling the need to touch more of him. He grins down at her again and kisses the space between her tits. 

His hand rubbed ever so slightly over her mound without actually doing anything, but she felt the slightest friction and the pooling of her wetness. She grabbed at one of her tits. 

“The curtain’s not opaque, August,” he continues and she groans at the nickname at a time like this. His middle finger slipped lower, hovering over her slit. He looked her in the eyes again. “I saw you writhing around your own little fingers. What’s it gonna look like when it’s mine your pretty pussy is wrapped around?”

She moaned at his words, throwing her head back against the pillows. 

“Is it pretty? I bet it’s pretty.” Josh continued his special version of torture. She could feel his fingers but they weren’t doing anything she wanted them to. Every so often he planted a kiss on her torso. Of course he liked to tease by talking forever and ever. 

“Take off the boxers and find out,” She tries not to sound impatient. 

“Great idea!” Josh patronizes, slipping his hand out of the boxers completely and moving to take off the boxers.

She huffs. 

“Don’t act spoiled,” Josh admonishes, returning his hand back to where it was while his other cups her face, forcing her to look him in the eyes again. He looks like an angel like this but so sure of himself. She’s amazed and completely at his will. “I know she already got to cum once under this roof.” He tsked, tapping his middle finger against her entrance. It was the lightest pat but she was so wet that Josh’s finger got a little of her slick nonetheless.

She moaned at the change in sensation, her hips dipping down in some instinctual attempt at getting him to slip inside. 

“God, you are needy.” He removed his hands again and laughed when she huffed again. Both hands moved to her knees and pushed them to be bent and then apart, moving his body between them. His hands then went to her breasts, squeezing them and pinching tenderly at her nipples. Her hips bucked again and Josh kissed her again. “It’s gonna feel so good when I finally touch you where you want,” He offered, kissing her sweetly. 

Pulling away he began to suck on her chest, continuing his monologue. “You were holding this perfect tit in one hand and rubbing your wet pussy with the other, right?”

She nodded when he looked to her for a response. 

“I left when I saw you drop to your knees like some cock hungry whore…” Coming from someone else it would’ve sounded cruel, but from Josh’s lips it was the softest sweetest accusation in the world. His voice was honey and it only made her want him more. Maybe she was a cock hungry whore, for Josh. 

Josh’s right hand returns to her pussy, cupping it like before and she’s sure she’s about to leak onto his palm. 

“You’re leaking, princess,” Josh informs her, confirming her suspicion. “Do you like me talking mean to you? Why’d you drop to your knees in my bathroom, August? C’mon you can tell me.”

“I,” She starts. Josh chooses then to slip the tip of his finger inside of her. 

“Yes?”

“I was about to c-cum and you have that, fucking, detachable showerhead…”

Josh thrust his finger fully inside her and she moaned, relieved but not much better. Now she felt herself quickly working up to another orgasm. He thrust his finger carefully, thinking over his response while trying to hold himself together now that he’d felt how warm and tight she was inside. 

“Used my showerhead to get off in my shower. Touching these pretty tits, riding your own hand and now you’re laid out all perfect for me.” He added a finger and her hips began to move with his movements. “You are a little slut, aren’t you?”

She hums in agreement, one hand hanging onto Josh’s neck and another gripping her tit like her life depended on it. 

“And you’re gonna cum again already? Fuck,” Josh sounded amazed. In awe of how sexy Y/N was, how willing and lovely she was, how she was perfect for him. “Go on.”

She came immediately, having held off for so long, trying to hold it for Josh despite how much he’d teased her. 

After she rode it out, Josh removed his fingers and gave them a lick. Humming his satisfaction. She breathed heavily watching him, but wanting more. Seeing from the bulge in Josh’s sweatpants she knew he wanted more as well. 

“Fuck me, Josh.” She sat up on her elbows beckoning him closer. 

“Did you forget who’s in charge?” He laughed, but it was soft. They were still themselves. 

She widened her legs and pouted, dropping her hand to her pussy, carefully circling her puffy clit. 

“Need it, Josh.” She rocked her hips. “I think you need it too.” She hummed, looking pointedly at his straining cock.

Josh shook his head and crawled over her again, pushing her hand away from her clit. She took up the job of pushing down his sweatpants and boxers simultaneously. 

“Next time, I wanna see you dropping to your knees like the cockslut we now know you are.” Josh breaths, losing track of his train of thought with the feel of her soft hand gripping the base of him gently. 

“Next time could be later tonight…” She whispered back, connecting their lips again. “Or tomorrow.”

Josh groans, at her words and the feeling of her slipping the head of his cock through her slick. He resisted pressing in immediately, feeling her rubbing it back and forth from her entrance to her needy clit. He bit her lip and she moaned. 

“I would’ve fucked you months ago if I knew that getting you wet was all it took to make you all sweet and nice.” He grunted. 

His hips thrusting on their own accord caused his head to slip against her clit in a way that made her moan loudly. She tightened her grip on his cock and Josh’s hips moved back.

“I wouldn’t be rude to the girl who’s about to let you hit, lover.” 

She nudged Josh’s head into her entrance and they sighed in tandem. Her hands went up to his shoulders from under his arms. Josh dropped his face into her neck, overwhelmed by the warmth and softness. They began moving at a steady clip. Her legs wrapped around Josh until he started thrusting harder and faster. 

“Fuck,” she whined. “That feels so fucking good. Don’t stop.”

Josh had begun to sweat. He shifted one of her legs to balance one of his hands and then moved his other to the headboard and she moaned loudly adoring the stretch.

“‘M close,” He strained. His eyes were constantly shifting between her bouncing tits, his cock disappearing in her and her face and the expressions she was making. “You’re so wet.”

“Cum,” she breathed. Her fingers slipped down to her clit again, rubbing furiously. 

Her walls tightened at the added stimulation and Josh was cumming. Hot and sticky inside her. He panted hard, collapsing on her with a wet kiss against her mouth. His cock had made even more of a mess of her, leaking out of her full, throbbing cunt. 

Josh watched it. Entranced as he pulled out once more and twitched when Y/N moaned at the sensation, her eyes shut in pleasure. 

“I’ll clean you up,” Josh nodded to himself before disappearing. 

Less than 10 minutes later, the pair were cleaned up and wrapped up with water in Josh’s bed. Side by side. 

-

They saw each other in class on Monday and Wednesday after their shoot and impromptu sleepover on Saturday that had run into Sunday, but they acted like nothing had happened. Or like it was completely normal. Which they both liked. They had been cordial upon waking up wrapped around each other on Sunday morning, but Y/N had made a quick exit, citing a myriad of reasons why she needed to go home now that the storm had passed. She even declined coffee. 

It was Thursday, at Lover’s Inn, when the events of Saturday night became hard to ignore. 

Josh didn’t show up first which she was grateful for. Jake sauntered in with his guitar case, his small but impressive pedal board and a few wrapped up cords over his shoulder. She smiled and they exchanged pleasantries as she shuffled around their table. Everything was ready, but she couldn’t stop herself from reorganizing things. 

“Do you need a beer?” Jake asks after a tense 10 minutes of silence. 

She laughs and flips around from the table, slumping against it. “Honestly, yeah.” 

Jake lifts his mouth into a half-smile, nodding to the table. “You can have one of mine and I’ll steal one of my brothers.” 

“How chivalrous,” She smiles, disarmed by Jake’s nature. She grabs two beers and the bottle opener from the table before crossing to him and handing over one beer to him, followed by the opener. 

They click the necks together and take an appreciative sip. 

“What’s got you flustered?” Jake asks. 

“I don’t know,” She sighs, rubbing at her forehead, knowing exactly why. 

Sam, Danny and Josh file through the side door while Y/N attempts to come up with a reason for her to be stressed. Jake watches her carefully, but her eyes immediately shoot to the sound of the door opening and their voices. 

Josh scans the scene of Jake and Y/N on the two couches, sipping on beers, alone. His nose flares momentarily before setting down his piece of the drum kit and saunters to the couch, sitting beside Jake. 

“Your turn,” Josh says, nodding to the door so that Jake will go help with the rest of their stuff. 

Jake rolls his eyes and takes another swig of his beer before huffily standing up and walking outside. Josh eyes Y/N sitting silently across from him and takes a swif from his brother’s beer. 

“I’m assuming he offered his share and then is planning to drink an extra of one of ours.” 

She chuckles nervously, eyes shifting away from Josh and around the room. “You guys know each other well.” 

“Brothers. Twins.” He shrugs, still watching her intently. 

She discards her half-empty beer and stands, bee-lining for her bag. “I’ve got new stuff for you guys.” 

Josh rolls his eyes, but feels a little bug of worry squirming in. The insecurity he had felt on Sunday had vanished with how normal they had been in class, but this made him feel like something was certainly off. 

“Here,” She places the vest and medallion necklace she’d found for Josh beside his head on the back of the couch. “And here’s this for you, Danny.” She turned from Josh before he could even thank her, handing Danny a tank style shirt she thought he’d like. Sam received a flowy floral button down while Jake got a fringe leather jacket that she had been searching for all semester for him. 

Jake beamed, his eyes shiny and his smile taking over his entire face. She smiled back at him, trying to fully feel the gratitude he was giving her. She watched as he tried it on and spread his arms in the mirror, admiring the movement. 

“This is going to be so fuckin’ sick,” He laughed, slightly in disbelief, touching over the jacket constantly. “I can’t thank you enough, Y/N.” 

She blushed a bit, feeling everyone’s eyes on her, especially Josh’s from his place on the couch. He was holding his vest in his lap, sullen that he had never thanked her so profusely for the things she found him. 

“It’s my dream job–and if you guys ever get famous, I’ll make you real stage outfits. However you want.” Jake’s giddy energy was overpowering her nerves. It felt great. 

The green room was a fun atmosphere for the rest of the hour leading up to their set. Josh pushed himself out of his pining and focused on the revelry. But before the band was about to go on, Josh hung back, leaving him alone with Y/N. 

She saw him stall at the door, his hand catching the frame. His vest was tan suede tonight, with silver pieces swirling into pockets on the front and creating a pattern across his back. He turned around and she paused, once more at the table, beginning to clean up wrappers. 

“I wanted to say thank you for all the vests and stuff you’ve found me this semester, August.” 

She watched Josh cross the room to her. “It’s nothing. Like I said, dream job.” 

Josh pressed closer and threaded his hand through her hair. His breath was warm against her skin. She finally met his eyes. 

“I miss you.” 

“You’ve seen me all week.” 

Josh’s forehead drops against hers, his free hand coming to her waist. It’s hot and firm and she feels the breath leave her lungs. Her body presses closer to him. 

“Not what I meant.” 

“Josh…” She wants to kiss him so bad. Wants him to kiss her. Her hands are grasping at his forearms in a way she hopes isn’t too desparate. “You’ve got a show to play.” 

His hand moves slowly from her waist across her stomach to the center of her jean skirt. His fingers fiddle with the button, slipping them below the waistband, feeling more fabric. 

“It’s a shame.” His breathing was heavy. His nose kept nudging hers. 

She licked her lips and swallowed. 

“Really wish you weren’t wearing tights,” He murmurs before pressing a hot kiss to her lips. 

Before she can really feel him against her, he’s pulling away and snapping the black lycra that he had wiggled his finger into against her skin. A sharp gasp sounds and he’s walking out the door to the stage, looking far too much like a rockstar than she’d like. After a few moments of attempting to collect herself, she leaves the trash to be dealt with later and follows Josh to see the start of the show. 

This show was electric. Everyone was playing their best. Jake was rocking with his guitar so much that the fringe flew around, making the crowd of college-aged women the band had amassed go wild. Josh was strutting around the stage, raising his arms as he hit notes and dancing with Jake every so often. 

Jake tried to convince the manager to let Sam and Danny into the front of house. ‘It’s not like they don’t have IDs that say they’re old enough,’ he reasoned conspiratorially. He was over the moon and he wanted everyone to celebrate since winter break was coming up and their show would be taking a rest for a while. Her manager relented, but Josh almost crushed his twin’s soul when he said he needed to go home to work on editing. 

Sam and Danny’s exuberance at being able to drink at the bar overpowered Jake’s protestations to Josh, leaving Y/N and Josh alone in the green room once more. He smirked with great satisfaction as he shrugged the vest from his shoulders and began to pull his t-shirt back over his head. 

“Where were we?” He saunters back over and she’s happy to see regular Josh instead of the rockstar Josh who had ambushed her earlier. 

Yet, she remembered him. And she remembered his performance tonight. How low his pants were slung around his hips. A pair of tight black vinyl pants she had found him about a month ago. His happy trail had meandered down to disappear beneath the fabric she had chosen for him. Now, he was straining against those pants and she shut her eyes, coming to terms with what she was about to do. 

“It’s your turn, Josh.” She meets him in the middle of the room, backing him up against the arm of the bigger leather couch. She caged him in for a moment, looking him up and down. Josh’s eyes were wide in surprise. “Sit on the couch.” 

He is a bit confused, but doesn’t argue, shuffling to sit down as quickly as possible. 

“Eager, huh?” 

“Now who’s being mean?” 

She grins and walks to stand in front of Josh, dropping to her knees with quiet ease and practice. Josh immediately throws his head back, sinking lower into the chair. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Didn’t want to leave you hanging,” She smiled. Running her hands over the tops of Josh’s vinyl clad thighs. “I could see it while you were on stage. At least,” She paused to chuckle. “More than usual.”

Josh sighed, eyes fluttering open to stare at her between his legs again. She was so beautiful even when she smiled at him so wickedly. 

“Want your cock in my mouth, Josh?” 

“Fuck, Y/N,” Josh couldn’t take the teasing of her hands and her words. 

“Just say ‘please’.” She stared at Josh seriously. Her hands toying with the button and zipper of his pants now, brushing just over his hardening length. 

“Please, please, fucking please.” He rushed out. 

She laughed and shook her head. “God, fine. Relax.” 

Her hands expertly unhooked the button and slid the zipper down with practiced hands of a costumer. This was far more explicit than any of the other times she had undressed someone. Josh’s cock was hot and heavy in her hand and her core ached at the memory of where it had been almost a week ago. She ran her tongue against it and Josh groaned. 

She lavished his head with a few kisses and looked up at Josh, beginning to suck on the side of it. “So pretty,” She murmurs. 

Josh’s hips bucked in response, his hand going to rest in her hair, but careful not to guide her. He wanted to see what she did. She gathered a pool of spit to let fall onto his thick cock before languidly running her hand over the length, hoping to tease him a little more. She hadn’t forgotten the treatment he gave her on Saturday. Josh’s hips bucked again and he groaned her name. 

Taking his head fully in between her lips, she took pity on him. Beginning her descent, she attempted to get him all in her throat but had about a handful left when he hit the back of her throat. She hummed around him and he jerked in her throat, causing her to fall back. She massaged her lips around the place where his head met the shaft before trying again. One hand on his thigh and one beneath his shirt, she bobbed her head slowly, suctioning occasionally until Josh was hissing about being close again. 

She pulled off him and smiled at him from her position. Her lips were wet with saliva and precum. Josh’s eyes were half closed in pleasure but he couldn’t believe the look on her face. Breathing heavy, flushed from taking him down her throat. Her hand moved along his length faster. 

“Tell me when,” She murmured, eyes moving from Josh’s face to her movements around him. 

Josh nodded, trying to stay still. Overwhelmed. “Now.” 

Her lips reattached to his head, sucking a little harder, while her hand still worked near the base. Josh’s hips bucked in time with the spurts that hit the back of her throat and she clenched around nothing, wishing more than anything that she was brave enough to attempt penetrative sex in public. 

She pulled off and swallowed, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth with a tired sigh. Josh’s satisfied smile watched her in awe, tucking himself away after a few moments of heavy panting. 

“Jesus Christ,” Josh breathed, petting at her hair before bringing her to kiss his lips. “Thank you. Wow. Just… so talented.”

“Josh Kiszka not having the right words,” She smiled against his lips. She pulled away and ruffled his hair. “I must be good.” 

Josh sputtered, jumping to his feet and following her to the side of the door where she was grabbing her coat and extra stuff. 

“Do you need a ride home again?” 

Josh scratched at the back of his neck. “Uh, I guess. Can’t really go out there and tell ‘em I need their keys when I was supposed to have left 20 minutes ago. Plus they’re probably expecting me to come pick them up eventually so I need my car for that.” 

“Josh,” She stopped his rambling. Her hand pressed flat against his upper chest, bringing his eyes to hers. “Relax. My jaw’s too tired to give you another stress relieving head session.” 

Josh shut up and nodded. She smiled, pleased with herself. They grabbed their stuff and headed for her Volvo after she locked the green room door. 

“Driving you home like you’re my little bitch,” She stated half-way through the drive she now knew without directions. 

“Shut up.” Josh sounded annoyed but really he was smiling, staring out at the passing streets. 

When they pull up to his house, Josh pauses. “Do you wanna come in?” 

“Can’t tonight. See you soon though.” 

She kisses his lips tenderly, cupping his strong jaw in a way neither of them had ever expected. 

-

Mid December and the semester was over. Their short film was a success. It was the last Thursday Greta Van Fleet would be performing at Lover’s Inn until the new year. Josh and Y/N hadn’t had time to talk about them with the rush of finals and getting the film in in time for screening. There had been stolen kisses during late final cut editing nights and in the empty hallways of the film building, but nothing else. 

Josh had arrived with Y/N, helping her set up so that she could be done early and they could have alone time before the rest of the band started to arrive. They were so excited to be done with everything, so pleased with themselves, that they were hurriedly making out against the snack table, unable to keep their hands off of one another a moment longer. 

So wrapped up in one another, exchanging words of teasing and searing lips against soft skin, they don’t hear Danny and Jake walking in.

With Y/N pressed against the table, Jake and Danny get an eyeful of her hands on Josh, one on his waist pulling him closer and the other grabbing at his right jean-clad ass cheek.

Danny whistling loudly and Jake clapping his hands together leisurely cause them to spring apart. Josh spins around, flushed and out of breath while Y/N adjusts the top of her shirt that Josh had pushed to the side for more access to her skin. 

“About time,” Jake says with a happy smile, stalking to place down his guitar case. 

Danny laughs and Sam walks in shortly behind them, silent for a moment, appraising the situation before understanding and exclaiming: “To the happy couple!”

Josh groans at his brothers’ smug looks before smiling. She laughs, hiding her head behind Josh’s shoulder in mild embarrassment. Everyone cheers and it feels silly that they ever detested being in the same room as one another. 

During their final performance, Josh waxes eloquent about his wondrous time he’s spent on this very stage. He thanks everyone and then pauses, searching the audience for Y/N. 

“Now this next one goes out to my lover,” He says as he winks. “You know who you are!” 

The crowd goes wild and a softer than usual guitar riff comes in from Jake’s playing. 

“August, honey / Tasted sweeter with you / Sticky fingers / From your own residue,” He sang.

Jake got to kick up the guitar. The three guys even sang the little backing ‘ooh’s into their mics that were rarely used. 

“We don’t talk about it / We don’t have the time / We thought love was something / We weren’t meant to find.”

Josh’s voice is a perfect fit for the cover, she thinks it sounds even better than the original. 

“But don’t you remember / August, honey, you were mine!”

It hurts her heart to realize why her name was ‘August’ in Josh’s phone and not for the asshole-ish reason he had originally told her. Sure, they’d met in August three years ago, that was still true, but she’d also mentioned this song to him. When they’d first been paired up freshman year, he had asked her what the song was that was paused on her phone when he handed it back after typing in his number. Always being scatterbrained, especially at 18, he must have written it over her name…And it was ‘August’. 

-

[chiarrara]

1, 7, 13 for the wip game

1. Current WIP

vampire megumi au <3333 which, I am still insane about, but my mind has been elsewhere for a few days. tbh this started as a daydream plot that I just wanted to write for writing's sake, something easy, campy, and fun, just so I could prove to myself I could do it. but it kind of got away from me. it became too big and important, and now it feels like it's getting stifled under this arbitrary expectation of perfection that I wanted to write this work to avoid.

It's this hole I feel like I fall into with so many things and I really want to figure out how to get out of it, because it'd rather have something out there that's just okay, than never get it done because it had to be flawless. and I think y'all that have been interested in it want that too. I don't feel like I can really learn how to write, like the actual active process of it, if I'm cutting myself off before I even get started. so I want to figure it out. some metatextual angst for you on that one, i guess

7. WIP that is my "no one understands him/her/them like I do"

I think this one has to go to the oldest of all my WIPs, my 2017 conceived and plotted Otayuri friends-to-lovers best fic I've never written, that I to this day have never given up on.

It originally came about from my conflicted feelings about the anit-shipping, and specifically anti-Otayuri, discourse that was really taking off at the time. Obviously, that discussion has grown to absolutely eclipse the level it was at back then, and my feelings on the subject have evolved a lot as well, but at the time, I found myself feeling conflicted over the arguments that were being presented and I wasn't sure how to reconcile them with my own thoughts and feelings. So, I gave the problem to the characters to work out instead, and it became one of my favorite things my mind has ever created.

The timeline spans 3-4 years post-canon , it covers multiple relationships, deals with the blurry lines between love and friendship, and explores how to move forward when you're not on the same page or even in the same stage in life. And it's all drafted pen-to-paper, so I still have it :) This notebook is like gold to me, it's one of my most treasured possessions, I try to keep it safe wherever I go. I love this story a whole lot, so It would make me really sad to never actually get to write it. I hope someday soon I finally feel ready to dive in and tackle it <3

13. WIP I started to torture my blorbos (including me)

I was trying to think of one for this, because I don't really write straight up angst too much or whump?? or whatever it's called, like really really painful shit for the sake of it, but then I remembered I had this daydream plot going for a while that was post-canon, and Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara moved into an apartment together with like, whatever Zenin money Megumi would be able to collect post-massacre. And the whole thing was basically Megumi with severe PTSD, becoming overly-attached to Yuuji, sort of twisting the whole idea of living for someone else into Yuuji being the only thing he stays alive for.

In general, I like to explore Megumi post-Shinjuku because I feel like a lot of what he would reasonably go through is hand-waved or brushed off so things can reach a new status quo at the end of the manga, which is fine, but I think there's a lot there that could be explored. Especially as a parallel to Geto, like what does it look like to survive past the point that you break kind of thing. I sort of started doing that in you can't find the words to say and if I ever continued that I could probably combine the two ideas....they might have actually been the same thing to start with, now that I think about it. But I don't really like that fic that much right now, so if I follow up on it, I think it'd be good to take another pass at it.

[codename-adler]

[ THIS IS COMING FROM A PLACE OF LOVE ]

TW: Riko Moriyama, violence & abuse, sh, death

i want people to lean so hard into Riko’s villainy. i want us to explore the abysmal dark side of Exy’s little psycho. i want you to write me the most horrific acts this fucko has perpetrated.

there is. so much potential there. yes, he is both victim and abuser, we’ve been over that. so? his babygirl aesthetic doesn’t have to die just bc he likes to hurt people and scheme fucked-up plots on the side! he can have his cake and eat it! we don’t have to rehabilitate him. we can make him worse. we can love him because he’s mad. we can find worth in his depravity. he is such a crucial character to the story, but he’s important because he’s big bad, he’s insane, he’s a raging bitch, and we! should! love him! for it! never been anything wrong with liking villains now has there?

give him the mic. showcase his voice. even if it’s a demonic screeching or a cold, cold laugh tearing the corners of his mouth. describe the crazy eyes. dive into them.

nobody knew outside the Nest. and even inside, only the closest. his victims. that is horrifying, but astounding too!! a masterclass in manipulation. doesn’t it keep you up at night? can you imagine Kevin losing hope of ever escaping because who will believe him? do you see him in his bed at Palmetto, still not convinced he’ll ever pull out from under Riko’s thumb, because that man can manipulate anyone onto his side? what if the Foxes choose Riko’s version?

what if Riko hadn’t stopped just at Seth? what about the Foxes’ families?

what does he keep in his room? under his bed? in the bathroom?

what did he really do to Thea?

when was the first time he lashed out? what was he thinking? what was his first instinct? how did he hone his skills for violence? who taught him? is he self-taught in the arts of the knife? why cutting and not something else? or are knives the only skill set he got to show us before the end?

when did violence stop being an outlet and start being a pleasure?

how many animals are buried on Evermore’s grounds?

how many people?

was there ever a first kill? who? why? how?

did he self-harm? for relief or euphoria? curiosity or therapy?

when did Kevin start noticing a change in his behaviour? when did he start being worried? for Riko? for Jean? for himself?

how everywhere was Tetsuji ? in everything?

did Riko laugh?

did he cry?

what’s the #MeToo going to look like in the aftershocks? who starts it?

what’s the documentary going to be like? who will be part of it? how many years does the investigation take? how far down does the rabbit hole go?

the versions and secrets are infinite.

and so, like Riko: let us go wild!

[xx-slug-xx]

I have to correct myself, someone posted “I don’t think AI fics should be allowed on ao3” which garnered a lot of attention, then came the antis crying “but what about racism, misogyny, cp etc, why is AI your only problem?!”

Also I question myself WHERE antis find the alleged material that’s written about real minors? I’ve been using ao3 for many many years and have never encountered it

This reminds me though. I accidentally read halfway through a fic before realizing it was AI. Thought it was just a poorly written fic, but quickly realized it was AI a bit too late once a realized the formatting was incorrect for a reason. Plot holes a plenty too. Was mad at myself for getting that far. Had to confirm by scrolling down to the bottom and finding the tell tale “The End” on the bottom lmao

Anyway, back to the topic at hand lol

AI is bad because it directly extorts the works of artists. Fiction can be a means of projecting someone’s harmful opinions, but it’s still just fiction. AI usually takes the writing of real writers works and pumps it out like its factory made candy. Racism is bad because it is harmful to people in the real world. If someone is writing a fanfic that contains reflections of their bigotry, yeah it hurts that someone has those opinions. But it’s that real persons real life options that hurt people, not the fiction by itself. You can write fics that contain bigotry, but that also doesn’t mean someone is a bigot just because it contains those elements.

And yeah, I have NEVER seen CSEM (they need to stop calling fanfiction “CP” its so gross) (its also insanity illegal to post real CSEM so they aren’t finding that either) or bigoted fics (unless you count those “edgy” joke fics from like the 2010s lol). Also, ao3 still has policy’s directly involving spreading REAL hate towards people. Like most places on the internet, you can report people for being racist, homophobic, transphobic, or hateful towards any minority.

[eyedelater]

demon slayer notes

i started watching demon slayer, without having read the manga, at the urging of a family friend who is new to anime and insists it's extremely good. here are my thoughts on the anime and then the entire manga through to its end.

in this post, i appended followup notes to some points upon revisiting them because i had to make sure to go back and tell my past self what happened.

i watched episodes 1 through 20 without writing anything because i wasn't planning to. i watched many of those episodes on my phone, which is unusual for me, but i was traveling at the time. so i probably missed some finer visual details.

my impression of the show before i started, from having skimmed the start of its wikipedia page some months ago, was that it seemed to be relatively high quality but very formulaic Standard Shounen Fare, and it did not catch my interest. after watching 20 episodes, that opinion hasn't really changed. so many of the elements of the show are typical and just barely riff on extremely basic tropes. i'm sure there are many people who argue that demon slayer in fact drastically and ingeniously transforms those generic shounen tropes, but i'm not so sure about that. [followup note: the story does improve in terms of nuance later on, but i'm not retracting this paragraph.]

they did kind of an amazing job on the anime in terms of animation and effects. i should really rewatch those first 20 episodes on my computer screen so i can better appreciate it.

tanjirou is a very, very good boy. almost too good. where are his flaws? his internal monologues are always so apt. almost too apt. his backstory is of course compelling, but he hasn't won me over quite yet… i do like his headbutts, though… [followup note: i guess his flaw is his penchant for excessive self-sacrifice? which is one of those job interview "flaws" that is more likely to be a virtue.]

i'm looking forward to nezuko having more and more agency as the story progresses.

i'm looking forward to zenitsu learning to shut the fuck up more and more as the story progresses. i do have to give his voice actor a lot of credit for going completely all-out every time and never holding back.

i immediately love inosuke because he's a dumb bastard.

will tomioka giyuu fill the hayakawa aki-shaped hole in my heart by not being doomed? [followup note: not really. good for him not being doomed though!]

the art style is so samefacey… golden kamuy spoiled me…

the demon slayer corps seems to think it's hot shit and have many, many levels of hierarchy, but they're disorganized enough to regularly and greatly underestimate the threat of demons such that they keep sending their own fighters to their deaths. they need to work on their intelligence gathering, if nothing else.

all the hashira seem to care an awful lot about the life of the hypothetical person hypothetically killed by nezuko, but their organization is sloppy and heartless in its deploying of weak demon slayers. is this clumsy writing with plot holes, or is it a hint for the astute as to the organization's dirtiness and disorder? [followup note: i want to say it was the former or i guess neither. the master turns out to be really humble and kind to his hashiras. did he not grasp how bad a job they were doing wrt casualties?]

i like how sanemi's eyes continue to look insane even when he's calmly using polite speech

"My arms and legs are really short right now." ~zenitsu while his arms and legs are really short

i do hope boys watch this and come away with the idea that tanjirou's habit of intense and unconditional kindness is cool.

i did like when the girls told zenitsu to his face to be respectful to girls and he was humbled. [followup note: i discovered this was added into the anime and not present in the manga. good addition]

the last few seconds of the OP for the mugen train arc make it seem like rengoku is gonna die. (explicitly prepares my heart for that)

by the way, after the first season ended and we're on to the next arc, inosuke is still the best. i don't do it myself, but i enjoy watching others live life with true wild abandon. i really enjoy his kind of annoyingness more than zenitsu's.

rengoku is committed to never breaking eye contact with the camera

in ep2 of the train arc, tanjirou said "and where are you looking?!" (in japanese) to rengoku, but they translated it as "and when did you get so big?!" because i guess they felt like it would be a better visual joke because they animated rengoku really big? but they should've kept the "where are you looking?" because it's funny that tanjirou addressed what i was already thinking and had in fact written in the previous point. they did it twice in one episode too. is this going to be something we learn about rengoku? that he doesn't look at people? i thought we saw him look at people… [followup note: it's not. also the same joke was in the manga so they especially should have translated it right.]

rengoku said that black sword bearers never know which thing to master. obvious flag for "tanjiro's going to master them all of them and be the biggest baddest hashira in shounen history." too obvious (if i'm right) [i was wrong]

who's gonna tell gotouge-sensei that headbutts don't make your head bleed

prediction: kibutsuji targeted tanjirou's family because of their ancestry and some great prophecy about how that bloodline is fated to someday defeat him. he killed everyone who was home but thought that had to be all the kids because there were so many. he turned nezuko into a demon just to see what would happen and/or because he did actually remember the right number of kids and he wanted her to kill tanjirou. it may also turn out that kibutsuji was responsible for tanjirou's dad's death and/or the scars on both their heads. [followup note: i was wrong about a lot of this, but he did target them for their bloodline]

tanjirou gathered the courage to slit his own throat waaay too easily and quickly.

the netflix translator for the subs for the first few episodes (at least) of the train arc is taking far too many liberties for my liking. i wonder if the subs are different on crunchyroll, which i don't have. i should note that the first 20ish episodes i watched, i watched on a non-netflix non-crunchyroll site and i guess they were fan subs. but i didn't notice anything wrong with those subs.

"I fused my being with this entire train!" ok i've been giving this anime some shit for being predictable, but credit where credit is due, i did not expect that. that's really funny. i hate Lower One's voice btw.

i can tell that some, if not all, of the move names characters shout out are puns like the move names in one piece, but because there are no translation notes, i can't understand them :( [followup note: there aren't any in the official translation either :( and i looked up an unofficial translation and it didn't have any either :( i guess when i'm done with the manga i'll look at a wiki for the move name meanings… of course i dare not look at a wiki when spoilers are still a concern…] [followup followup: didn't care enough before posting this to look at the move name meanings]

anyone who has read my blog, you know what i'm gonna say about nipples, right? it's obvious, right? about inosuke's and others' empty chests. it's obvious. people will be like "you want explicit nipples depicted on the chests of TEEN BOYS?" no i want minimal abstract representations of nipples because everyone has them and it's normal and it's weirder to see a blank aladdin chest. this is about NIPPLE POSITIVITY. i will die on this hill time after time

if two guys are fighting a train together and they synchronize their breathing, is it gay

i liked when inosuke gently set injured tanjirou back down. character development

ok i REALLY dislike the netflix subs for these episodes. don't ADD shit. it's simple. just don't. you have to respect the author. you have to respect the author.

i prepared myself for rengoku's death. thanks for the hint, train arc OP. i see now that he was introduced to serve the purpose of character development for tanjirou.

the appeal of a stone-faced character like tomioka giyuu is twofold: a) they look cool all the time, and b) you develop a desire to see them emote.

tanjirou's gonna get yelled at for losing his sword again…

i like how akaza made it a point to beat up tanjirou's sword. to give us viewers closure as to whether tanjirou was gonna get that sword back.

i feel like i've seen an oversized amount of fanart involving rengoku, given the length of his lifespan in the show. (nothing i looked up, but just by osmosis.) is this like a portgas d. ace situation? i hate shipping ace with anyone because he's dead. or could it be that the character i've seen around was actually senjurou? doubtful

zenitsu's VA is doing a good job, like i said, but i bet zenitsu is a lot more lovable in the manga where you don't actually have to listen to him losing his shit…

i'll officially be mad if anything happens to inosuke.

uzui's three weed-smoking girlfriends…

so the boys are not even just infiltrating the houses of pleasure but they're aiming for the rank of oiran

tanjirou's bad lying face can't compete with luffy's bad lying face… sorry… [followup note: it was better in the manga]

inosuke who can get ahold of himself well enough to actually stfu and act like a girl… excellent

yeah fuck the translator for these netflix subs in the entertainment district arc too. you can't just write whatever you think would sound cool for their lines.

i have to find out the japanese for inosuke's catchphrase "comin' through" (according to this translation). wait i should just turn japanese captions on. ……there are no japanese captions… gimme a break…

they're literally in japan, literally wearing traditional japanese clothing, and they translate "obi" into "belt" instead of leaving it as is. am i overestimating how many people would know what an obi is........?

i do think it's a smart and interesting decision to explicitly section the anime into arcs instead of seasons, or rather, you could say, putting season breaks only at arc breaks. very smart.

uzui's own wife calls him tengen-sama? red flag

you know, i did have one major misconception about this story. i thought that the fact that yaiba is in the name would mean that tanjirou would inherit some particular sacred demon-obliterating blade and it would play a major part in the story (a predictable trope). but tanjirou in fact keeps destroying his swords. maybe that will actually happen later. [followup note: it didn't really. i mean tanjirou gets his one good sword later, but it's not like the sword is what wins the fight for him or anything.]

looked at tanjirou and thought "deku" tally: ||||||||||||||||||||||||

this story sure does have a lot of the protagonist's internal monologue. that's somewhat unusual for shounen, i feel like. is tanjirou just conjuring up text boxes all the time in the manga? i guess i'll have to read it after this… for completionism. [followup note: it seems the manga has an unnamed narrator who sometimes chimes in and they excluded that from the anime completely, instead relying on a combination of show-don't-tell and tanjirou narrating instead. not a bad choice.]

nezuko bit through her gag, which was really good, but she didn't immediately start talking, which is what should have happened. to remind us that she can. other demons can talk. [followup note: i see now that she is apparently left in a childlike state and has to relearn talking. ok]

(watches nezuko shrink back from grownup mode) self-infantilizing imouto…

ok, i figured out that the subs are just the lines from the dubs. that means my ire lies with whoever translated the lines for the netflix dubs. that's right, i'm not just gonna excuse it because i was mistaken about the source.

tanjirou looking at ezui and seeing rengoku's head appear next to him is 100% a death flag. his three weed-smoking wives are gonna mourn him at the end of this arc. it's gonna be the start of a pattern of tanjirou getting scarred by the loss of hashira after hashira right in front of him. [followup: glad for tanjirou that this didn't happen.]

by the way, i bet someone out there has something smart to say about uzui's three wives and what they mean for feminism. i don't care to think about it very hard though. but i know someone does.

zenitsu is conveniently asleep for a very long time in this very long battle

the budget for this anime must have been SO high. or the animators were seriously overworked. because there is so much love and so much hard work put into what seems like EVERY single shot. it's incredible. like some of these shots there's no logical need to go so hard but it's just sooo consistent that every shot has to have a life-changing amount of work put into it. i can't get over it.

(after entertainment arc ep9) i said i would be pissed if anything happened to inosuke, and i meant it. we'll see what happens from here. if inosuke dies, i'm not reading the manga. because i'm stubborn.

gyuutaro called tanjirou a bonkler…

this battle was already frustratingly long and now the defeated gyuutaro's dead defeated corpse had to release one last extremely destructive attack? according to what logic?

i like when nezuko has tanjirou on her back for once. reverse sibling onbu

this smells a lot more like hunter x hunter than hero academia or one piece. in terms of the character designs, to some degree, and everyone's penchant for talking a lot, and vibes. and i'm saying "smells" in my own way and not in a tanjirou way, okay?

they have IVs in the taisho era? with saline? i don't know anything about history.

does everyone in the sword village need the hyottoko mask? at all times?

i can tell by the OP of the sword village arc that demons will attack the sword village.

i really like the artistic choice of letting characters emote through their masks if necessary.

this son of a bitch has poison too? isn't this getting old?

i liked the little episode preview where kanroji is asked how she sheaths her sword and the answer is she simply just does. very good

of course even haganezuka turns out to be a hottie (rolls eyes emoji)

i don't want to call out gyokko here, but he could just put muichirou in the water vase again.

kibutsuji looks a lot less laughable without his stupid fucking hat.

so demons started existing because kibutsuji took weird medicine from his doctor?? [followup note: I Guess So.]

i guess i have to give gotouge-sensei credit for really sticking with the gimmick of the whole sword village wearing those masks.

i like genya.

tokitou's soft spot for tanjirou is really cute

i caught up with the anime without writing very much. i'm still blown away by the production value. speaking of blown away, i'm curious as to what happened to 2 of kagaya's 5 apparent daughters. [followup note: they really died.]

[{{{{{{{{caught up with the anime}}}}}}}}]

[{{{{{{{{comments below concern the manga}}}}}}}}]

inosuke lived, so i started reading the manga. i'm struck by the different feeling that tanjirou gives off. manga tanjirou seems a little more serious and less perky. maybe it has to do with the line delivery in the anime shaping my view of him (though the voice actor has done a great job). i did, at the beginning of the anime, get the strong early impression that tanjirou's voice was very "grown man trying hard to do a teen boy voice," and i cringed just a bit. but that feeling faded as the anime went on. i also assume the art style changes a lot as the manga progresses, such that the style resembles the anime's style more in later chapters. the anime seems to have done an amazing job of faithfully and precisely adapting the manga, at least for early chapters. i'm really jealous of the demon slayer anime on behalf of all the great mangas that got weird or lousy anime adaptations.

the babyface style of the early manga is also very strong. even giyuu looks like a little kid.

and genya's face in his first appearance is really funny. he got a glowup for the anime. whereas zenitsu looks 100% the same. i'm looking forward to inosuke's manga face.

i read a lot more of the manga without saying anything. i've gone on and on about the high quality of the anime, but i kind of feel like the manga is better. that is to say, the art feels very authentic and pure and full of love and care. manga tanjirou is just as much of a Very Good Boy as anime tanjirou, but without a certain feeling of Trying Very Hard. is it the voice?

the manga has a kind of Classic feel to it. not like it resembles any particular manga from the past, but more like, gotouge-sensei was aiming high and trying to make something evergreen. trying to forge a new classic.

and reading the manga was shocking because it's like, the anime is truly the most faithful adaptation i've ever seen. every scene feels like it's shot-for-shot-for-shot precisely what was in the manga, with every line carried over. practically nothing was left out. the spacing and timing of content was perfect; nothing was excessively crammed or stretched out. only a few things were added, like the scene with the bento sellers before the train arc (unless that came from some bonus chapter i never saw). but the additions feel normal and necessary. truly a staggeringly faithful and loving adaptation. why did they give demon slayer this exceptional treatment…? because reading the manga, it's like, this is good… but is it life-changingly good enough for them to have gone THIS all-out with the anime? i haven't decided yet. [followup note: i still haven't decided?? i might make future posts about this.]

right, demon slayer is solidly good, i would say, but on the whole, it's not quite For Me. that's because if i evaluate it by my old standby metric, the COCK test, it is decidedly NOT Completely unhinged, and there is a decided lack of Creatures. to be perfectly fair, i'm sure it Offends the church, and it does Kick ass. and really, if someone is just a bit less weirdly picky than me, this manga could change their life. but it's just not batshit insane enough to push all my buttons. i feel some hunter x hunter influence, but obviously hunter x hunter knew how to be insane enough. not that hunter x hunter does it all for me either.

it does get credit for having somewhat deeper and rounder characters than jujutsu kaisen. like at least they have an extremely strong reason to be doing what they're doing.

the manga is self-serious in a genuine way, and the anime feels self-serious in a very slightly phony way. though i don't mean they're overly self-serious. there is welcome comic relief in both. it's better in the manga but still well-translated into the anime (literal translations of the subtitles aside). and the comic relief is actually funny a lot of the time, which is more than i can say about jujutsu kaisen. this has been my obligatory shitting on jujutsu kaisen for the first time in a while. if you missed it, the story is that i gave jujutsu kaisen all the chances in the world for me to love it, but it disappointed me (and killed my favorite character for no reason).

i've been worried this whole time, not having a good sense of exactly how much chapters have been squashed or stretched, about how many chapters would remain after i caught up with the story as far as the anime went. but now i'm just about at the end of the hashira training arc (mansion just blew up) and there are still about 60 chapters left. that's sooo many. i was worried there wouldn't be much story left, but there is! that's good, because there's a lot left to explain.

i have noticed exactly what has been added to the anime adaptation. pretty much everything added was smart and suitable. although the extremely long approach of kibutsuji to kagaya's bedside was i think not so necessary. but yeah, fleshing out the training in the hashira arc a bit, going into slightly more detail on people's backstories, adding a few more character building moments, none of it feels irritating in any way. but if it turns out they added any zenitsu whining moments, that's unforgivable. there are already enough of those.

i bet huge inosuke fans were a little irritated at the casting of his voice. a true ruffian's voice that clashes to the extreme with his pretty face. i think it's pretty apt though. maybe a little too large-adult-sounding. but teenage boys are like that.

i've been reading an unofficial manga translation, not sure who it's by, and it's interesting to note which phrases were left untranslated in this compared to in the official translation. in this unofficial TL, why is oyakata-sama left as such instead of translating it to "master" when it's just a title that plainly means "master?" and in the netflix subs/dubs, why are hashira and hinokami kagura left untranslated? and yet both translated "obi" as either "belt" or "sash" when i think it could have safely been left as is. and why was "nichirin sword" left untranslated in both when you could just call it a sun blade or sun sword? is it because nichirin sounds too cool and japanese?

oh yeah, i kept thinking but kept forgetting to write: it's well known that demons are always eating humans, but we don't see them in the actual act of eating people very often at all. it seems they often like to just kill people, like weasels kill hens. for fun. but we have seem douma in the act of eating people note once but twice.

the unifying backstory of Everyone's family being killed by demons is getting a little old…

ok i remembered one bad thing the anime did. giving us that whole ridiculous nezuko montage when she was exposed to the sun and we thought she was gonna get obliterated. that was reeeally pushing it. trying that hard to fool us is just embarrassing for you.

so ubuyashiki kagaya became a father at the age of 15. no, younger, because kiriya has two (twin?) elder sisters. at least 14.

the two ubuyashiki girls did die… that's not cool… don't use them just to confuse kibutsuji…

zenitsu leveled up? zenitsu can work while awake now? maybe he'll also shut the fuck up?

…

i ended up staying up very, very late and read many dozens of chapters in one night and finished demon slayer. not the best circumstances for properly absorbing the story, but i did it anyway.

i was not prepared for genya to die and i think that should not have happened. we needed to see more of him and his future. i'll say it: it should have been sanemi instead. justice for genya.

i don't think that many hashiras needed to die… especially tokitou-kun didn't need to die so horribly... and i certainly didn't expect sanemi to be one of only 2 hashira survivors.

i guess we're just lucky that inosuke and zenitsu got away with all their limbs intact. limbs were dropping like flies for a while there.

i was satisfied with the reveal of the backstory about the tsugikuni brothers and how yoriichi entrusted his earrings and stuff to tanjirou's ancestral family.

i thought the final reveal that yoriichi's 13th move was all the other moves strung together didn't have an amazing payout in the end… did it? did i miss something big?

there was the Explicit mention, in dialogue, that kanroji and iguro and others may reincarnate happily. i wish gotouge-sensei would have allowed that to happen in the audience's imagination instead of having a timeskip chapter that shows everyone's descendants and reincarnations. it wasn't unbearable, but i didn't like it. also inosuke's descendant didn't go hog wild at all.

after reading the whole manga and no longer fearing spoilers, i finally looked up inosuke's catchphrase. i was very pleased to find out that it is chototsumoushin 猪突猛進, which is an existing four-character compound that includes the kanji for boar and means rushing recklessly (as a boar does). i knew there would be some degree of untranslatable nuance in there! the nuance is that that phrase definitely describes an undesirable act, but inosuke yells it with glee while rushing in recklessly, and that is perfect. it's like yelling "BULL IN A CHINA SHOP!" in the anime, one subtitle translation was "COMIN' THROUGH!" which is a little lifeless and completely missing any boar energy. my favorite translation is "BOAR RUSH!" because it carries the boar energy and makes it seem like he's shouting a move name when he's really just barreling around the hallway. i don't remember if i saw that one in the netflix translation or if it was a fansub. one more version i saw, in an unofficial manga translation, was "pig assault." that one's not a winner. it isn't even the kanji for pig; it's the kanji for boar. also if i had been watching the anime with earbuds it's entirely possible i would have been able to discern what inosuke was saying from the beginning, because i went back and he says it quite clearly, but that doesn't matter now.

i feel a little weird about making a whole long post about something i don't have crazy strong feelings about, but i wrote all this out, so... read my important opinions... sorry for saying "i guess" so much and using so many ellipses...

overall, i wish the ending was less bittersweet (i hate character death, as always) and dislike the timeskip chapter, but i still rate demon slayer (the story itself) as GOOD. that means it is worth watching and reading. there are several slots above GOOD on my personal rating scale, but GOOD isn't bad. it's GOOD. and that's what demon slayer is. someday i will probably rewatch and/or reread, and i'll keep up with the next anime season.

[lavenderdreams205]

spn thoughts as requested

tw & spoiler warning

they should have kept the grungy filter and aesthetics from the early seasons

bring back the southern / midwest gothic vibes

dean would've listened to and loved 90's & 2000s grunge - I know that the whole "there's no good music past '79" is a key part of his personality but pre series/early seasons dean is soo nirvana / Weezer / smashing pumpkins coded

there is too much flannel in the later seasons - I miss the carhartt and leather jackets so bad

BRING BACK DEANS JEWELRY

there's so much about cas that we don't know. there's all the episodes where he just isn't there and they never tell the viewers what he's doing or where he went

on the same note, cas's personality isn't nearly as flushed out as sam's or dean's are. who is his favorite musician? what's his favorite place to travel to? why does he like the pimpmobile so much? does he actually like the trench coat or does he wear it just because it's there?

so many people characterize cas as a little guy, and while he is cute, it's important to remember that he's also an incredibly powerful eldritch horror who leads angelic armies and brands Michaels vessel just because

dean is bisexual and in love with cas - I won't take the time to list all of the reasons here, but you can definitely find those reasons somewhere

i would've loved for them to use the handprint as a physical manifestation of their bond instead of having it be just a scar that fades with time

i'm actually really ok with the way cas dies, I think it makes sense for his character and provides closure (for him, at least, not for dean)

the parallels of cas and dean meeting in a barn and then dean dying in a barn

cassie is deans first love, cas is his last

the imagery of the empty as cas's wings in 15x18

why do the subtitles spell cas as cass, its awful

there's a few lines in the early seasons that seemingly reference dean getting roofied / sa'd and are subsequently played for laughs, Jensen Ackles confirmed that dean would've done underage sw when John didn't leave them with enough money. I believe that this trauma is a major reason that dean never accepted his sexuality

the way deans alcoholism is overlooked and joked about is actually insane

having dean be completely ok after 15x18 is also insane, especially after the widower arc where the show specifically shows it's viewers how deeply dean grieves cas when he dies

deans death is literally so stupid. I get that the show is trying to make a really meta point about the characters not having plot armor anymore because chuck is gone, but dean deserved to find peace. if the events of the show had never happened and pre series dean had never gotten pre series Sam back into hunting it would've ended the exact same way - dean dead on a hunt and Sam dying from old age

dean spends as much time on earth as he did in hell, and while he would never be the same, I like to believe that if he had been allowed by the narrative to live longer he would've gotten back a little of the twinkle in his eyes that he had before hell

in 15x20 Bobby says that cas helped rebuild heaven but if he was there he would've gone to see dean. additionally, there's no way cas should have been able to escape the empty. this is such a glaringly obvious plot hole and it drives me nuts

I would've liked to see cas's wings in the show - not just the shadow of them

the only time I tolerate serious discussion of wincest is in the context of ethel cain

i am a Sam disliker - while he does have many positive qualities, I have a really hard time getting past him not looking for dean when he was in purgatory and him joking about deans alcoholism and other traumas

i like Sam the best when he's with Eileen, I think they're adorable together and I'm mad they killed her off

I am a chronic jack defender, that boy has done nothing wrong

it would be interesting to explore cas and jacks relationships with their respective genders

there's no way being forced to murder the dean clones didn't affect cas, we only saw him kill the last one but the first few he had to kill had to have been devastating

i'm really disappointed by 14x13 Lebanon, we get the scene with John and Sam but I would argue that dean has significantly more reasons to be upset with John and it's unfortunate that the episode just glossed over this - I believe a screaming match between the two would have cleared the air a bit and been at the very least cathartic for dean

i'm fairly sure that it's canonical that John sent dean away on his 17th birthday to kill lesbian ghosts. my personal hc is that John suspected that dean was bi and sent him to teach him a lesson

i saw a post on here comparing hunting culture to biker and cowboy culture and viewing those things through a queer lens and I thought it was fascinating - there's so much spn could've done if it cared about the show more than money and losing viewers

every time cas and dean beat the shit out of each other, it serves as further proof of their relationship rather than discrediting their relationship - ie demon dean and cas fighting in the library is used to parallel Cain and Collette. it could even be assumed that their love is stronger because Cain killed Collette but dean left cas alive

The purgatory love triangle was so silly

once dean worked through all of his trauma and toxic masculinity he would've been a swiftie

all of the main characters have old / vintage cars but in like season 13/14 dean sam and cas just collectively own and use this really ugly silver truck from the 2010s. its such a small detail but it absolutely ruins my viewing experience every time I see it

dean is actually really smart but most of the fandom overlooks it because Sam is characterized as the smart one. if you know anything about cars you know it takes an insane amount of brains to build a car from scratch (he did this with baby multiple times throughout the show) also he just makes an emf meter using basically nothing. if dean had been given the same opportunities he gave Sam, he would've been an engineer or something

i will always be a John hater, if this man has 0 haters, I am dead