#The way Ellie lights up when she realizes what he's saying.

[schmweed]

[hiiikiko]

𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖜𝖊𝖇

[1: spider-man’s more awkward than i thought..”]

spiderman!ellie x reader | tlou m.list

synopsis: ellie is in your biology class, she’s the quiet teachers assistant, who also happens to double as your agency’s part time photographer, but you notice that lately she’s been acting strange..

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You never really noticed her before, to you, she was just the nerdy TA and your agency’s assistant photographer but right now, you needed her to be your saviour. You were failing your biology class, a side effect of how many modelling gigs you’ve picked up to pay your tuition but what good was paying your tuition if you couldn’t even pass your classes? That’s how you ended up practically begging Ellie to tutor you.

“God, please, Williams,” you sighed, taking her hand in yours, “I’ll do anything! I’ll even pay you or I could speak to the agency—.”

“I-it’s fine, Y/l/n, I can do it,” she pried her hand out of yours and nodded, “Just put in a good word with your boss, yeah?”

You practically jump when she says that, “Oh thank you, thank you so much! Um, do you have my number?”

Ellie bashfully nods, “Uh, yeah, I have all the model’s numbers..”

You nod, “Okay, cool! Let’s meet at my place tonight, yeah? Maybe around 6? I’ll send you the location and the door code.”

Ellie straightens up, “Uhh.. can’t do six.. can we do it earlier? Maybe 4..?”

She looks a little nervous about asking, her eyebrows are furrowed and she’s staring into your eyes, anxiously waiting for your response, “Oh.. yeah that’s cool!”

With that, you go your separate ways.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

At your apartment, you prep it for your visitor, shoving your clothes into your laundry hamper, putting out some snacks, straightening up your ‘living room,’ it wasn’t really a living room, given that you lived in a small studio apartment, it was really just a corner of your apartment with a couch, rug, and coffee table. Come on, it was New York and you’re a college student! This is as good as it’ll get for now.

Just as you’re folding a blanket, you hear a thud against the glass door leading out to your balcony. Just as you’re about to take a step towards it to inspect it.. ding dong! You jump a bit, forgetting all about the peculiar sound and making your way towards your front door. Peaking through the peephole, you see Ellie, she’s awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck, camera bag resting on her shoulder and her bangs messily in her face.

“Hey,” you smile and open the door to let her in, “Uh, make yourself at home.”

“T-thanks,” she nods, taking off her shoes and putting her bag down, “Nice place you got.. very, uh, homey. Oh, you a fan of Spider-man?” She nods at the Spider-Man poster on your wall and the Spider-Man t-shirt you’re wearing.

You giggle at her attempt at making small talk, “Thanks, can I get you anything? Water.. soda.. tea..? And, yeah, I know it’s kinda ‘fan girly’ of me but he’s just so fuckin’ cool, y’know? ”

“I’ll take a water,” she sits down on your couch, she looks really tired, not sleepy tired but she looks like she just fought Captain America.

“Shall we get started,” you place the glass in front of her and sit on the floor, the fluffy rug underneath aiding as a cushion, she nods and the two of you get to work.

The first few tutoring sessions went just like that, they were stiff and awkward but eventually, you realized that Ellis isn’t just a nerd that occasionally takes your pictures, she’s also really funny and is actually a really good teacher, she’s patient but doesn’t treat you like you’re dumb. She talks you through the formulas and makes sure you understand each chapter by quizzing you. She’s actually not awkward about this after all, she seems confident when she’s talking about cells. Watching her is nice, her eyes light up when she gets to a chapter that she is obviously interested in and a small smile falters on her lips. You never really realized it before but not only is she really smart, she’s also REALLY hot. Like, the way her veiny arms l flex when she reaches over for her glass of water, the veins flexing under her tattoo, the way she gazes at you through her eyelashes, and her smirk when she gently teases you for getting a problem wrong.

On one particular tutoring session, the rain pattered heavy against the thin glass on your balcony doors, creating a serene, almost cozy atmosphere. You and Ellie were sitting close together on the floor, a thick textbook resting on the coffee table in front of you, you could feel her breath against your neck and her voice was deep and raspy, almost like she’d been out in the rain earlier, and—

“Hey, you with me?” Ellie waves a hand in front of your face, “Hm, maybe we should stop here for now, yeah? It’s getting la— shit, it’s 7?!”

Your expression fell at the thought of her leaving, so you thought ‘fuck it’ as you decided to try and get her to ‘sleep over.’

Ellie scrambled to get on her feet, grabbing her bag and putting her battered converse on, “Oh, you’re leaving? But it’s pouring out there, wanna spend the night?” You graze her arm with your hand, you know it’s wrong to wanna sleep with your TA and your coworker but.. it had been so long since you got any.. and shit, how could you stop yourself now? You could feel her lean muscles underneath her baggy jacket.. you had no idea she even worked out.

Ellie’s eyes flicker to your hand, almost like she was considering it, “S-sorry.. I really gotta go, see ya Friday, yeah?”

And before you could say anything else to try and convince her to stay, she was out the door and you could hear her footsteps echoing down the stairwell.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“The nerve that girl has!” You throw your hands up, “She didn’t even consider it.. I mean, look at me! An up and coming model offers you the night of her life, you say yes!”

Your friends nod in agreement, “I just don—.” Just as you’re about to make another comment, you see Ellie come into the lecture hall, a band-aid on her eyebrow, ouch. What in the world could have happened between 7 p.m. and this morning?

Your friends turn to see what’s got your tongue, then one of them speaks up, “Haven’t you heard? She is always getting weird scratches.. a guy in my last class said that she tends to get in a lot of fights, crazy, right?”

Ellie gets into fights? You scoff at the idea, no way, she’s the most gentle person you know, you can barely feel her touch when she adjusts your hair during shoots, besides she’s way too awkward, you can imagine her trying to talk herself out of a beating, no way. Right?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

During that night’s tutoring session, you ask her about the bandaid, “Oh,” her hand darts to her forehead, “This? I, uh, got it when I fell off my skateboard..”

Convincing enough, right? But the tone in which she said it betrayed her statement, damn, she was a shitty liar.

“Hm,” you hum, still not completely convinced.

Ellie’s eyes rest on yours for a moment before going back to this week’s chapter. Usually, you could focus pretty well but right now all you wanted was to ask her more about the cut, right as you’re about to bug her again, she interrupts you with a question of her own. “Hey, uh, are you booked for that shoot on Sunday?”

You can tell she’s trying her best to act as nonchalant as possible but the way she’s nervously tapping her pencil against the textbook, the way her teeth gently bite her soft pink lips, and the way her eyes look like a deer caught in headlights betray her rather calm tone.

“Yeah, didn’t Regina tell you? She booked me a few weeks ago, something about how they want a ‘fresh young face’ or whatever,” you on the other hand, have mastered the art of being nonchalant, your voice calm and your eyes never leaving the paper of your textbook.

“R-really?” Ellie looks like a puppy who’s owner just shook a bag of treats before forgetting she’s supposed to be feign the whole ‘mysterious loner’ shtick, “I mean, uh, cool, cool. I’m gonna be there too, so, uh.. yeah.”

“Mhm,” the rest of the night carries on like nothing happened, Ellie continues teaching and you continue ‘listening,’ which was a little hard because your eyes kept drifting to her eyebrows again.

There’s something about her that you just don’t get.. if those rumours are true, which you highly doubt because look at her, she’s smiling while talking about RNA… be so for real right now, there’s no way BUT if it is true, why is she so gentle? Sure, she’s clumsy but her personality, she’s not hostile, hell, she blushes whenever you graze her hand. You know how the rumour mill works and it doesn’t just churn out baseless rumours, most have some kind of truth to them, so, how did someone make one about Ellie being so violent, you wonder.

“Uh, Y/n?” Ellie’s eyes move towards the balcony doors, “Can you, uh, please stop staring? You’re making me nervous..”

Your face erupts in a blush, the sweet red colour creeping up your neck, coating your ears, and finally, sweeping over your face, “S-sorry, just spaced out.. haven’t been getting much sleep, you know?”

Ellie nods, “Yeah.. I get it.. neighbours arguing a lot ‘nd stuff, right?”

You nod before realizing, “I never told you that.”

Ellie lets out a forced chuckle, “Uh, you did! Well, you didn’t tell me directly, just heard you say it… God, please believe me, I’m not stalking you, I just heard you say in passing, I swe—. Um. I should go, it’s getting late..”

“Huh, it’s only 6..?” You stand up with her, hoping she doesn’t leave so soon.

“Sorry, but I really should—?”

You grab onto her bulky jacket, tugging on the sleeve a bit, causing it to slip down her shoulder a bit and reveal her shirt underneath, huh, it looked like…

“Hey,” she blurts out and straightens out her jacket, “Wh—?”

“Oh my god, is that a spider-man tshirt?” You jump up, a smile creeping onto your face.

Ellie is washed with relief, “Uh, yeah! Gotta love the, uh, the guy, right?”

Nodding you say, “Totally! You should’ve said something sooner, I’m like his biggest fan, I even have an, allegedly, signed poster of him!”

Ellie’s ears burn bright, “R-really? Can I see it?”

You scramble to your room and pull out a small signed flyer, “See?”

Ellie gently holds it then she snorts and mutters, “Yeah, that’s not real.”

Your expression falters, “Wh-what? As if you’d know,” you pull it from her grip, your pride hurt and internally kicking yourself for spending so much on what could be a damn knock off.

“Oh, I think I’d know a thing or two about ‘Spider-Man’,” she chuckles.

“What does that mean,” you shoot her a glare.

“Oh, nothing.. I just, uh, met him” Ellie is scrambling for any way to cover up her loud mouth.

“No way, really?!” You jump up.

“Y-yeah, a few times actually.. back in my first year of college, he let me take some pictures of him a few times for the paper.”

You squeal and begin to bombard her with questions, “What was he like? Is he tall? How does he sound? Wh—?”

Ellie is patient with you and answers all of your questions, stretching she takes a look at the clock and jumps up, “Fuck, I really should get going, it’s rainy and the parade is tomorrow and that means more cr —.”

“More, what?”

“Uh, more cramped subways!” (Ellie is internally patting herself on the back for coming up with a word that begins with ‘cr’ instead of saying criminals.)

“Oh, alright.. see ya.”

Ellie is out the door quicker than you could say ‘your friendly neighborhood spider-man.’

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It’s the day of the parade and everyone’s spirits are high. Today, everyone is celebrating the election of the new city mayor. There will be a parade, drone show, and a market. Even you’re excited. You and your friends are making your way through the crowded streets when you bump into Abby, your ex. She must be here for her family, Abby’s family was widely renowned. Her dad isn’t just a highly esteemed surgeon, he’s also CEO of Oscorp and has very close ties to the city officials. You don’t really want any drama, so you pass by without giving as much as a nod.

“Hey, Y/n,” you hear through the crowds, a groan leaving your lips before looking up and meeting green eyes instead of blue ones.

“Ellie! What’re you doing here? I thought you would hate this kinda stuff.’

She holds up her camera, “Just takin’ photos, the Daily Bugle needs some front page stuff and they assigned it to me.”

“Oh, very cool,” you smile, “S—,” Just as you’re about to ask her if she wants to check out the stands with you, you feel a hand grip your shoulder, it’s Abby, fuck.

“Hey, Y/n, long time, huh? Wanna come see my dad, he’s been asking about you, oh, so has Manny.” Before you could reject her, Ellie is already walking away and Abby is steering you to the city hall building.

Abby drones on and on about her latest lacrosse victories and about her latest conquests, you just nod and try to space out. Normally, you wouldn’t go with her but you so desperately wanted to meet with her father. Being in premed meant you need as many connections as possible, so you were hoping Mr. Anderson could give you some pointers.

As the two of you round a corner you feel a rumble then hear a boom.

“What the fuck was that,” Abby stops and runs up the stairs, your feet are frozen in place but you quickly pull them from their cemented state and chase after her, “Abby, stop! It’s too dang—!”

Then came the second boom and suddenly, you felt the ground beneath you crumbling, fuck, this is it, isn’t it? Just as you’re about to accept your fate, you feel hands grip your waist and you’re flying..?

Through the dust, you can make out a red and blue silhouette. “I-it’s you!’

The masked figure looks at you, “Yeah.. i-it’s me.”

Uh, Spider-Man is a lot more awkward than you thought..

[thechaoticcherub]

Sheep Keeping Age

Pairing: Jackson!Friends Dad!Joel Miller x innocent reader

Summary: Joel keeps the flock of sheep in Jackson, you and Ellie become friends, partially because you think it's cute that he keeps sheep.

Warnings: 18+, explicit content, innocence kink, virgin!reader, big age gap(around 40 years), old!joel miller, frustrated!joel miller, some (very) light manhandling, edging, fingering, dirty talk, no use of y/n, pet names, farming, ellie briefly, pussy pronouns

Notes: My first Joel fic! I hope you like it! this isn't really proofread and def not beta read so sorry but that's just how i roll. Ten thousand cherub points to anyone who knows what the title references.

Word count: 4.4 K

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The first week after you became friends with Ellie, you hung out with her in the garage of her dad, well, her Joel’s house. She was in the process of fixing it up to be her apartment and you had agreed to help her move some stuff around. You had caught sight of Joel through the window of the garage, he was in the paddock just past his house where Jackson’s sheep were kept. He was carrying a bucket of water to fill their trough and stopping to rub one of the sheep that followed after him behind the ears while they all brayed at him. Joel was really good looking for an older guy, broad through his shoulders and chest with a lined and deeply etched but handsome face. His hair was peppered with grey and there was something about his prominent nose and jaw that made you want to stare. You had seen him at other times in Jackson, from across the mess hall when he came in looking for his brother while a movie played in the evening. You had watched him then, your eyes tracking his movements across the building instead of paying attention to the projector screen. You had seen him at the pub, late in the evening when you’d go in to play cards with friends, he would be sitting at the bar with Tommy, drinking and talking in low voices. You had always been friendly, saying “hi Mr. Miller!” all brightly, smiling and sweet. Every time he would give you an awkward ‘’llo’” and then look away as if you were dangerous to look at for too long. You had always found him attractive, but he continuously hurt your feelings. 

“Why are you staring at Joel?” Elli asked, knocking you from your thoughts as you stared out the window. 

“Oh I just didn’t realize he took care of the sheep,” You said, making up an excuse. Ellie snorted with brief laughter, 

“Honestly, I think the sheep are the old fucker’s best friends. He definitely likes them more than probably anyone else.” She said, glancing out the window. 

“It’s kinda sweet,” You said, “Shows he isn’t just a closed off asshole,” You finished. Ellie shrugged, “Orrr it means he’s really closed off. Come help me move this desk,” She said.  

The second week after you became friends with Ellie, it had really started to feel like springtime around Jackson and you had walked over to see if Ellie was home. When she hadn’t answered your knocks on the door into the garage, you had wandered around the back of the building towards the paddock. You spotted Joel by the barn, so you put your foot up on the wooden fence and swung your leg over before hopping down and walking over. 

“Hey Mr. Miller!” You called as you approached him, he glanced over and then quickly looked away, as if the sight of you had burned him or something. 

“Hey,” His voice was gruff and short, “You lookin’ for Ellie?” He asked. You walked up to him and shrugged, “I was, she’s not here though, is she?” You asked. 

“Nope. On Patrol with Tommy,” He told you. It sounded like a dismissal, like you should leave. There was a sheep laying against the side of the barn, her breathing was a little heavy and Joel crouched down next to her, feeding her out of the palm of his hand. His forehead was pinched in worry. You didn’t want to be dismissed. You had come all the way to the house and you liked animals. Maybe you could learn how to help with the sheep and if that meant getting to spend a little more time around Joel then so be it. 

“Is something wrong with her?” You asked, crouching down next to Joel and reaching out to touch the sheep’s back, giving her a pat. Joel shifted so he wasn’t close to touching you, and glanced over at you, 

“Nothin’ wrong, jus’ pregnant and ready to be done I ‘spose,” Joel said. You immediately cooed, 

“Aww there’s going to be lambs soon?” you asked, excited, you turned your head to look at Joel, your fingers still in the sheeps slightly dirty wool. You watched as he nodded, “Yup, hopefully not too long,” he said, he looked over at you and it was as if he hadn’t been expecting you to be looking at him. He looked a little startled to meet your eyes, you watched as his eyes moved from yours to your cheeks, a little pink from the cool spring air, to your lips, slightly pursed as you watched him. “Look, darlin’,” he stood up suddenly and the movement almost knocked you backwards into the mud. Him calling you ‘darlin’ got your heart fluttering and your cheeks flushing. “I can tell Ellie you stopped by later if you-”

“I can help with the lambs when they come!” You interjected. “I love animals and I bet I could be a big help with the sheep, I’d love to learn about it.” you told him hopefully. Joel’s eyes moved over your eager face, his brow was pinched in that familiar concern. It was like he was thinking of ways to reject you. You didn’t understand, was he really just this anti-social or was it something about you specifically? You had seen him talking to other people just fine, while he wasn’t the friendliest person he made  conversation with them, but ever since the first time you met Joel he hadn’t wanted to talk to you for long. And it wasn’t like he just didn’t pay attention to you, you had seen him looking at you almost as much as you had caught yourself staring at him. You would turn your head while talking to someone in the town square and he would be looking at you, as if you irritated him. You had once briefly thought maybe he was looking at you because he thought you were pretty but the fact that he never said more than a couple words to you dissuaded you of that.

“I dunno, I’m guessin’ there’s better things a girl like you-” 

“Oh come on, Mr. Miller! I want to help out!” You grinned at him and for a split second, his face cleared of concern and he looked ten years younger but then the almost frustrated look was back but he shrugged, “Alright, if that’s what ya want,” He said. 

The fourth week after you became friends with Ellie, the sheep had been born and you had spent every day since at the paddock behind the Miller house. Joel had shown you all around the sheep barn, told you about their schedules, and taught you a lot but mostly you snuggled the newborn lambs while he did the heavy lifting. You had gotten him to stitch a few sentences together to you and even joked with him occasionally, 

“Not sure why I let ya keep comin’ back if i’m going to be the only one haulin’ the shit,” He had said one afternoon while you sat on one of the rails of the wooden fence, cradling a lamb in your arms, one booted foot swinging back and forth and he cleaned out the stalls in the barn. 

“Don’t pretend like you don’t like my company, Mr. Miller!” You called to him, rubbing the lamb under his chin. Joel snorted as he came out of the barn, 

“I’d like it better if you did some chores,” he said, “Instead of snuggling the babies and then leavin’ me out here the second Ellie comes home.” it had sounded harsh but you could see the light in his eyes. He may tease you about helping but he hadn’t ever insisted you pick up a shovel.  You blushed,

“Do you miss me when I leave ya, Mr. Miller?” You asked boldly, eyes shining with mischief as you looked over at him. 

“I told ya to call me, Joel, darlin’” He said, not answering your question. 

One day that week you had shown up in a dress, it had been too warm for jeans, and snuggling lambs wasn’t such hard work that you needed to wear work clothes. When Joel saw you walking up in boots and a floaty cotton dress he had rolled his eyes,

“We’re droppin all pretenses now, aint we?” He asked. 

“I don’t know what you mean, Mr Miller” You answered lightheartedly as you climbed up and over the fence. You knew he had wanted you to call him Joel, but the way Mr. Miller slid off your tongue like honey was too good to pass up.  Joel’s eyes raked over you as you threw a leg over the fence and hopped down, your dress fluttering around your thighs. 

“Mhm,” he said. “You go prancing around town like this a lot?” he asked, you looked over at him, his eyes had darkened slightly and you wondered if it pissed him off that you hadn’t even come dressed like you could do work if he needed you to. 

“No? I mean…I wear dresses sometimes,” You admitted, “You know that,” you added. He had seen you in dresses before, not that you thought he had noticed. He raised his eyebrows and said nothing, going back to his work. You spent the afternoon with the lambs and their mother, taking them farther out into the paddock to let their mother eat the clover there while you bottle fed the two babies. You caught Joel looking over at you three times that day. Once he was stopped just outside the barn and watching as you knelt in the grass in front of one of the lambs, you had felt his eyes on you so you made sure you smiled and looked cute while you fed the lamb with the bottle. You wanted him to look at you, you wanted your wildest fantasies of Joel Miller thinking you were pretty to come true. Finally you allowed yourself to turn and catch him looking, when he saw you look back at him he hurriedly kept working. 

The second time, you were bent over, picking up one of the lambs and when you straightened up, your cheeks flushed as you caught Joel staring at you from just a few yards away. You realized you had probably shown off too much when you bent over, your underwear might have even been peeking out. Mortified it was you who broke away from this gaze, you refused to look back up until you could hear Joel open the door to the equipment shed. 

The last time was when you were leading the lambs and their mother sheep back towards the barn, you were going to go home soon and you were twisting the hem of your dress around your finger over and over again, pulling it shorter and shorter absentmindedly. You were focused on the lambs, hurrying them along when you turned and noticed Joel filling a bucket with water at a spigot, it was unmistakable that his eyes were on your legs. You knew your body shouldn’t warm at the thought of him looking at you like that. He was the father of a good friend of yours. He was at least 40 years older than you. You hadn’t meant to try and show off to him but what if he thought you were just that type of girl now? What he thought shouldn’t matter to you, but it did and so when he looked up and noticed you had caught him looking again, you were the one who looked away in shame even though it should have been him. 

Once you got the lambs and their mother put into their stall in the barn you came out and looked around for Joel. He was standing by the fence, leaning against it and watching the sun slowly begin to sink behind the mountains. You wandered over to him and stood next to him, you could smell him when you stood so close. Something like heady leather, rich coffee beans and the tang of the outdoors and man. You wanted to bury your nose in his shoulder to keep smelling it. 

“Mr. Miller-” You started to say but before you could apologize for wearing a dress, for not doing enough chores, for anything you might have done to upset him, ever, he grabbed your upper arm, turning so you were the one pushed up against one of the fence posts. His hand dropped from your arm to your hip, keeping you snug against the wood. The movement knocked the wind out of you, your mouth fell open and you let out a little, oof. 

“Knock it off with that Mr. Miller shit,” Joel breathed. His body was so close to you, one of his legs wedged between yours, his large hand tight on your hip, pressing through the fabric of your dress and squeezing your flesh. 

“I’m sor-” “Don’t say it.” He growled, “You come to my house lookin’ like-” he cut himself off, his eyes moving down your frame, raking over every bit of you, making you feel even more exposed than you already did. His lips twisted in what seemed like it was distaste, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. “Next time you come over here, you better go back to being a good girl and wear jeans or somethin’ otherwise I’ll be fixin’ to do somethin’ I’ll regret.” His voice was dangerous and it set something boiling in you. You stared up at him, eyes wide, unsure. Joel’s dark eyes felt like flames as they stared down at you, scorching you, tearing at you. You wanted to be a good girl, but even more than that, you wanted him to do that thing he’d regret,

“But, Mr. Miller-” The words slipped out of you, and you couldn’t finish the sentence before his hand found your jaw. His thumb pressed into one cheek, his fingers pressed into the other, making you look up at him.

“Enough of that.” he said. “Don’t let me catch you in a dress like that again.” He said and it sounded like nothing but a challenge. He pushed you back slightly as he took a step away from you and then turned and left you there in the darkening paddock. 

The fifth week you were friends with Ellie, you wore a dress every single day but Joel hid for you. He signed up for Patrol on the day you were supposed to go to help with the sheep. He was never at the pub or the mess hall at the same time as you. You spent time with Ellie in the converted garage, talking about friends, about Ellie’s girlfriend, and you tried your absolute hardest not to ask her about Joel and whether or not he had asked about you. You stayed late at her place, playing cards,  and when you lost your third hand of Egyptian Ratscrew you decided to head home. As you were saying goodbye, you noticed a light flick on in Joel’s place. Your heart skipped at least two beats and as soon as Ellie’s door closed, leaving you in darkness, your feet changed course from the road that lead back to the mainstreet of town and to the nearby house. You walked along the driveway and to the front door where there was less of a chance of Ellie seeing you than the back door. You weren’t even sure what you were going to do when he answered the door, what reason you were possibly going to give for coming to his house late at night, the instant you saw that he was home but your feet led you to the door anyway and before you knew it, you were knocking. 

When Joel answered the door you looked exhausted and wary, his expression turned to something you couldn’t quite recognize the second he saw you standing there, booted toes pressed together, thin dress still swishing around your thighs from your movement. Maybe the expression was irritation, maybe it was shock, maybe it was hunger. 

“Mr. Miller,” You said, testing it in your mouth, unsure of what words would come next even as you spoke. You didn’t have an excuse. The title served as a propellant, something that burned fast and hot, sending Joel careening into you. He took one step over the threshold of the door, towering above you and then grabbed both your forearms and tugged you hard. Your immediate reaction was to try and put your arms up to push him back but he held you firm and gave you a little shake,

“I told you not to let me catch you wearing a dress again, little girl.” He said. You struggled with him for a second, trying to shake your forearms out of his grip, but it was no use and you didn’t really want to anyway. You stuttered for a second,

“I’m…I’m sorry, Mr. Miller,” The honeyed burn of that caused him to drag you over the threshold of his front door and slam it behind him. 

“You’re gunna be, darlin’” Joel dragged you through the entryway of the house and into the kitchen. He pushed you back into the counter, his body pressing into you again, his breath against your face. “You really think you can just be flirtin’ with me, tease me for weeks and then show up at my house in the middle of the night when I’ve been doin’ my damn best to avoid you?” 

You wanted to say you hadn’t meant to tease him, you hadn’t thought you were flirting, but thinking back on it, you had always gone out of your way to say hi. You had fluttered your eyelashes at him, and flipped your hair. Had you been that blatant? “N-no! I didn’t mean-” You started but you couldn’t even finish it. 

“You just a little slut, is that it?”Joel asked, his hands started to bunch up your dress around your hips. You gasped. No, you weren’t a slut, you hadn’t ever had sex. You hadn’t ever had a boyfriend. You hadn’t wanted to make any time for the boys in Jackson but you had been wanting Joel for a while. You tried to protest but again, the words died in your throat before they could come out because Joel was holding your dress bunched up in one hand while running a thick finger along the waistband of your underwear. “Is this what you’ve been wanting?” He breathed, his forehead was pressed into yours, you could feel his hot breath and his body pressing into yours. Yes, you did want it, but admitting that was admitting you had been acting this way specifically to get it.

“N-No!” You whined, pressing your back against the counter, trying to get away from his prying fingers but also desperately wanting it. “J-Joel!” You gasped as his hand pushed into your underwear, his fingers dipped into your slick folds, his middle finger slid up the seam of your pussy. When he reached the crest of your labia, his fingers seamlessly found your clit and tapped it, sending a spasm of pleasure through you. As quickly as he had shoved his hand into your underwear, he pulled it out, holding it up in front of your face to show off his fingers coated in your slick.

“Does this seem like no, to you, little darlin?” He asks, his voice sardonic. Your brow furrows as you look at your own juices coating his fingers. 

“Joel, I-I’ve never-” You whine and squirm where you’re standing, not sure how to say it, suddenly nervous this will all stop if you tell him. Joel reaches up with the hand that had so painfully briefly been touching your slit and cups your chin, surprisingly gentle,

“Never what, baby? Come on, spit it out, little girl.” His voice is husky, he leans in towards you, his nose pressing into the hollow of your cheek. 

“I’ve never been touched like…like that,” You manage to blurt out and Joel’s whole body seems to pause. For a moment you think he’s going to stop, he’s going to push you away and tell you to get lost, that you’re too young. But then the hand cupping your chin tightens and you feel his sharp, scratchy stubble against your cheek as he gives you a wet kiss there. He pulls back,

“Aint no one but me’s ever got the pleasure of touchin’ that pretty pussy?” he asks, there was a smile in his voice and you relax a little, he wasn’t about to shove you away. You shake your head slowly, looking up at him, your eyes meeting his. “Well, I should get proper acquainted with her then, shouldn’t I?” The words made everything in your body feel wobbly, like liquid sloshing around. His hands grab your hips and lift you backwards onto the counter. Joel shoves your knees apart and his fingers drag up your thigh towards your undies. You watch as his head tilts down to look between your bodies, his fingers moving to hook into the side of your underwear and pull them aside. Nerves make you try and clamp your legs shut and push him back, whining his name in protest at him looking at your naked sex. 

“Aw, sweetheart, I just want a little peek at her,” He convinces softly, you still whine but let his hands pry your thighs apart. His hand slips down your leg to your ankle and grabs it, pushing it back so your heel is pressed into the counter and your legs are splayed open, your body leaning back slightly. Your heart races, the idea of being exposed to his eyes is too much, you know you’re soaking through your underwear and now he can see that. Joel looks down over your undies and slowly lets go of your ankle, making sure you’ll keep it there. His pointer finger slides down your thigh to your undies, very carefully pulling them to the side, his eyes drinking up the view. “ohh, pretty girl,” he says. “You’re soakin’ for me, darlin.” He says, his eyes flick up to your face. Your whole face is red with embarrassment and desire. Joel brings his thumb up to his mouth, licks it and strokes your clit. Your breath catches in your throat, your heart hammers. All the times you had tried to touch yourself had never even come close to the way this felt. You let out a moan, your head falling back against your shoulders. 

Joel watches his thumb circle your clit, setting a steady, dizzying pace. “Good girl,” Joel said as you mewl out moans. Your body is blazing with pleasure, you can feel yourself dripping, you had never been wet like this before and it’s all because of his thumb softly circling around your clit, barely grazing it and then flicking over it in a mesmerizing pattern.  “Look at her,” Joel says with a short chuckle, “She keeps getting wetter.” His gaze fixed on your pussy and you let out a string of whines. 

Your orgasm is starting to build, you can feel it burning inside you, growing and pulsing, so close but not quite there yet.  Joel’s thumb strokes over your clit and your breath catches in your throat,

“You close, little darlin?” He asked, “I can see your cunt clenching on nothing….she needs something in her, doesn’t she?” You nod vigorously, unable to talk, unable to form a coherent thought. You didn’t care that you had never had anything inside of you, you needed his thick fingers. Your eyes open and look down at him, his face is tilted down, examining your sex, his grey peppered hair pushed back away from his face. His eyes move up to meet yours,

“Beg me for it, sweetheart.” he says, his eyes dark with lust. Your mouth falls open, your brow furrows and you shake your head, 

“C-can’t.” You whined, pressing your hips forward towards his finger as it continues its slow calculated pace of stroking your clit. 

“Yes you can, beg me to fill you up. Your poor, soaking pussy needs it, darlin. Come on, use those words I know you have.” He coaxed. You had never felt so filthy, you wanted to beg for his thick fingers in your virgin pussy but you couldn’t find the words, your brain was mush. “Beg.” he instructed. You whined, feeling like you were going insane and finally the words tumbled out of you,

“Please…please, please fill me up. Finger me, J-Joel. I need it in my pussy. Oh god, please, I’m soaking for it, she needs your fingers in her, please, Joel!” You babbled and whined as his thumb continued to stroked around and around your clit, occasionally swiping over it, bringing you closer and closer to that building orgasm. 

“Say, ‘please finger fuck me, Mr. Miller.’” He instructed, his middle finger notching itself at your entrance, not quite pushing in, just teasing your hole. 

“ughhhh!! Please! Please finger fuck me, Mr. Miller!” You moaned out, louder than you thought you were capable of. Joel let out a satisfied chuckle but instead of pushing that middle finger into your eager hole, his whole hand moved away from your throbbing sex. He delicately took the side of your undies and replaced them back over your swollen sex. 

“Wha- oh god…no! Joel!” You whined, pressing your hips forward, your cunt clenching on nothing. 

“Nuh-uh,” Joel said, looking over your face, smirking. “You spent weeks teasing me.”

“I didn’t know I was-” “Bullshit, little darlin’” Joel said. “‘Please, Mr. Miller can I please spend all my time at your house caring for the cute little lambs, bending over and dressin’ like a slut’” He mimicked you meanly and raised his eyebrow at you. “If you’re going to act like a naughty girl, I’m going to treat you like a naughty little girl.” He said, leaning down to be level with you. You stared at him, feeling like you might go completely crazy. You opened your mouth and then closed it again. Joel pressed his lips to yours in a soft, chaste kiss. When he pulled away he touched your nose, 

“Say ‘thank you, Mr. Miller.’” he insisted. 

“Thank you, Mr. Miller,” You mumbled, dazed. 

“Good girl, will you come check on the lambs tomorrow?” he asked, his eyes twinkling. “Ellie is on patrol all day.” Joel stroked his finger down the bridge of your nose. You gazed up into his eyes and nodded. 

“Yup, I really think sheep keeping is super interesting.” You said, still dazed and needy.

[ange1heavensent]

Getting Caught in 4K

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Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

Content Warning: light makeout

w/c ≈ 750

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The evening air was crisp, a gentle breeze sweeping through the streets as you pulled your car up to Ellie’s house. The date had gone even better than you’d imagined. Dinner, movie, and her constant smirk that made your heart flutter, it had all felt perfect. Ellie sat beside you in the passenger seat, glancing out of the window as if savoring the last few moments of your time together before stepping out.

"Thanks for tonight," Ellie said, breaking the silence but making no move to leave. Her voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if she didn’t really want to say goodbye. “I had a really good time tonight.” you replied, your heart thudding a little faster in your chest. Ellie smiled, her lips curling up in that way that always made your heart skip. “Me too.”

Before you could say anything else, Ellie leaned over, her breath warm against your skin as she pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. It was meant to be a simple gesture of thanks, but the second her lips touched your skin, something shifted in the air between you. You turned your head slightly, and suddenly, her lips were on yours, tentative at first, but then growing bolder when you kissed her back.

The kiss deepened, your hands finding their way to Ellie’s hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as she leaned closer, her body pressing against yours. The space between the seats felt too small, too confining, as if it wasn’t enough to contain the intensity of the moment.

Ellie seemed to feel the same way. Without breaking the kiss, she shifted, trying to climb over the center console into your lap. The car was small, though, and Ellie’s movements were anything but graceful. Her knee knocked into the gearshift, and as she twisted her body to straddle you, her foot caught on the edge of the seat. In the scramble, her butt hit the car horn with a loud, blaring honk that shattered the quiet night.

You both froze, the kiss abruptly cut off as you stared at each other in shock, wide-eyed and breathless. Then, as if on cue, the front door of Ellie’s house swung open, and there stood Joel, silhouetted against the light from inside.

“Ellie,” Joel called out, his voice gruff but not exactly angry—more like he had caught her doing something she shouldn’t, which was… well, accurate.

Ellie quickly scrambled off you, mumbling out a curse, nearly falling back into the passenger seat as she tried to regain her composure, then rolling the passenger window down. "Uh, hey, Joel…" She wiped at her mouth, trying to look nonchalant, but the red creeping up her neck wasn’t helping her case. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, looking between you two before letting out a heavy sigh. "I was wonderin' why the car horn went off in the driveway. Didn't realize it was... this." His tone was stern, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes that he was clearly trying to suppress.

You couldn’t help but laugh nervously, running a hand through your hair. "Sorry, Mr. Miller…"

Joel just shook his head, stepping back towards the house. "You two finish up your… uh, whatever it is you're doin'. Just… maybe not in the driveway, yeah?" He gave Ellie a pointed look before disappearing back inside.

The moment he was out of sight, Ellie let out a deep breath, slumping back in the seat, and you both burst into laughter.

"Well, that could've been worse," Ellie snorted, wiping a hand over her face. She turned to you, her face still flushed, still not quite over the embarrassment. "So, what are the chances we can pretend that never happened?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Not a chance. I’m never letting you live this down."

Ellie rolled her eyes but leaned in to press one last soft kiss to your lips, this time careful not to trigger any more accidental honking. “Guess we’ll have to try this again sometime,” she murmured against your lips, her voice low and teasing, "but next time let’s make sure we’re in your room or something, okay?" “Yeah,” you agreed, your heart fluttering at the thought. “I’d like that.”

As she opened the door and stepped out of the car, Ellie threw you one last playful wink before jogging up the steps to the house, leaving you with a fluttering heart and a memory of the night you definitely wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

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Thank you for reading! If you liked this fic, check out my masterlist for more :)

[ellies1luvr]

dealer!ellie x reader

(head cannons)

based on the song daddy issues by the neighborhood

A/n: Im writing this on my notes app, have never written before but i fear if i don’t write this it will never be written😅 currently going though a situation ship and im very touched starved so that is wear this is coming from‼️

Idc if minors read

please give me feedback even if its not the nicest it is really appreciated!!

TW: erm lesbians, reader having daddy issues, casual by chappell roan mentioned, crying, panic attacks, anxiety, reader sits on ellies lap, weed, lmk if i missed anything!! no use of y/n‼️

Dealer Ellie who met you at a party having panic attack

Dealer Ellie who brought you back to a random couch at the frat party and gave you free weed to calm you down while having a meaningful conversations

Dealer ellie who drove you home and got your phone number

Now anytime you have a panic attack or anything close to one, you call ellie and she comes over with free weed/ holds your hand and comforts you the whole time

“hey pretty girl” “there you go pretty”

when you smoke to much shes there to ground you

“its okay baby i got you, your safe with me”

Soon after you both catch feelings, not telling each other because you don’t want to ruin whats going on.

You call ellie one afternoon asking if she can come over, shes really busy but you dont need to know that and comes over.

you both end up confessing your feelings and make out on the couch, soon you both fall asleep in each others arms

by the end of that night you and ellie are bound by the hip (i think thats how the saying goes?? idk) ellie always with you in someway or some form.

Ellie soon finds out about your attachment issues and fear shes gonna leave you in some way, (hints daddy issues😅) but that fear is soon subsided by ellie and her always with and doting on you

at the beginning of you and ellies relationship, you tried not to get too comfortable but as soon as you do, you are clinging to ellie all the time.

(deals, in classes, restaurants, idk but always touching ellie and ellie always with or touching you in some way)

Getting with ellie didnt stop all your panic attacks or anxiety, when bad panic attacks would happen you would sit on ellies lap with a tv show playing in the background, ellie lighting a blunt, lightly placing it between your lips watching you inhale and exhale

Dealer ellie making that collage dealer bank, would take you shopping all the time.

no matter what your style, hyperfem, on the masculine side, or neither she would spoil the hell out of you.

You and ellie dont have sex untill about a month into the relationship, deciding to take it slow

You and ellie rarely ever got in fights, (you being sensitive also hints daddy issues😅) would cry when ellie raised her voice at you, not trying to be manipulative in the way that anytime you two get in disagreements you cry, but when she would yell, yes.

“ellie that girl was flirting with you i saw it”

“babe no she wasnt”

“ellie please just stop dealing to her”

“babe its my fucking job to deal what do you expect for a dealer in a collage campus not to get hit on?!”

when she heard sniffles her heart immediately dropped realizing that she yelled.

safe to say that girl never got another ounce of weed from ellie again.

i feel like all of ellies past relationships were just “casual” but with you it was very different!

Red wine supernova by chappell roan is definitely her favorite song on rise and fall of a midwest princess (but she relates to casual 😅 the most)

The first time she took you to meet joel you cried bc your dad cut you off once he found out you were gay , and especially not a dad like joel

one time when you amd ellie once woke up early enough to make breakfast before classes, you started a playlist on you phone

Naked in manhattan by chappell roan started playing, you started dancing and ellie soon followed hugging you from behind kissing your neck

Suggestive

at party’s when ellies dealing, you would always be perched on her lap, facing ellie, counting her freckles

Ellie being ellie is horny when shes high, you being you are emotional when high but that doesnt stop yall from having heated moments when both of yall are high.

i feel like ellie would have Lunch by billie eilish playing when shes high and that always leads to a long (fun) night

thanks for reading dykes‼️

[magnetic-rose]

if you loved episode 3 of tlou you really should listen to the official podcast with troy baker, craig mazin and neil druckmann because there’s SO much! here’s some of my favorite things said on the podcast:

- joel stacking rocks was to show that he missed and mourned tess. in that moment he was saying “i’m sorry, i blew it, i lost you.”

- in the beginning of the episode ellie told joel tess’ death wasn’t her fault but deep down she does feel like it was her fault.

- ellie admires joel because he protected her multiple times and as a child she has a desire for a parental figure to protect her.

- frank realized bill was gay pretty much as soon as he got out of the hole and saw how bill was looking at him. bill’s taking in how handsome frank is and “frank’s brain is incredibly attuned to that.” that’s why frank was smiling.

- frank realized bill was gay fast, but he realized he wanted bill when bill was playing the piano and singing linda ronstadt.

- it took them a while to find long long time by linda ronstadt but they always intended the song for bill to sing to be about a long love that was forever unrequited. “it was very important that the lyrics were someone saying ‘everyone tells me that it’s okay, that love will find me [...],’ no it doesn’t, no it’s not, and the person that i long for from afar - i’m gonna love them basically forever in the most unrequited manner.”

- it was important that frank immediately knew bill’s sexuality because frank SAW bill, because bill had completely buried his sexuality but frank saw through him.

- frank originally was trying to see what he could get out of bill (like a free lunch) but the more time they spent together, the more he went “oh, this is a beautiful person.”

- “there is two ways of loving things. frank wants to love outwards - he is sun, he is light. he wants to make things beautiful around him, he wants to care for bill, he wants to revitalize the streets so it’s not just this mausoleum bill lives in, and he wants to have friends. he wants to share what they have. and bill wants to put an electrified fence around them that is guarded by an additional layer of flame-throwing gas pipes and no one can show up ever because he must protect frank from the world... and as it turns out, both of those loved are required but one of those loves is likely to give you in trouble more than the other.”

- when frank put his finger on the furniture piece and saw how dusty it was, he realized what his purpose could be in bill’s life. bill can protect them, but frank can nurture their home.

- when bill apologizes to frank for growing old fast, it’s because he’s afraid of frank being left alone. “look at this beautiful man and the beautiful things that he does, and what is bill’s contribution? bill doesn’t grow strawberries. bill’s contribution is to keep frank alive. but bill is already afraid that he’s going to fail and that is a fear that joel has because he has that fear through experience [of losing his daughter.]“

- bill and joel understand each other and that they’re purpose is to protect others. they don’t care about their own lives.

- on their last day together, bill decided very early that he was going to die as well.

- the gun that ellie takes belonged to frank.

- that letter bill wrote reminded joel that he failed to protect both sarah and tess. the letter underscores for him that no matter how hard he tries, he can’t protect the people that he cares about. but now he has ellie to protect.

[dumblilb]

I KNEW THEN

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

(Synopsis: You have loved Ellie since the moment she moved to Jackson. You just didn’t know it at the time. Inspired by Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers.)

(Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, smut with way to much backstory lmao, switch!Ellie, switch!reader, oral (reader and Ellie receiving), fingering, friends to lovers, tlou!au, smoking weed, cursing, fluff)

(Words: 3,6k)

* ・゚☆ 。・ * ・゚★ 。・ * ・゚☆ * ・゚☆ 。

You had been in Jackson about a year before Ellie had showed up. So when her and Joel moved in next door, your parents practically shoved you out of the house to go invite them to dinner.

You knocked on the door messing with the hem of your shirt. Till it swung open and a scruffy looking man stood in front of you.

“H-hello.” You stuttered out.

“Hi there.” Joel says and you muster up your best smile.

“I live next door and me and my parents were wondering if you guys would like to come over for dinner?” You explain. You can tell the man is tired and you expect him to say no. But he gives a polite grin and nods.

“What time?” He asks and your face lights up.

“Six.” You smile.

“See you then.” He says and shuts the door as you walk off. You couldn’t help but feel giddy at the thought of him bringing the new girl in town over. You had seen her a few months back when they first found tommy. She was walking with Maria in town and you had bumped into them. The girl took a knife out of her pocket and held it to face you. You were so startled you fell back onto the snow covered floor.

“Ellie there’s no need for that.” Maria says and the girl lowers the knife as Maria helps you up.

“Sorry y/n.” She apologizes. And you dust your clothes off.

“It’s fine. I should have been watching where I was going.” You say as the girl next to her just stared at you. She had really pretty green eyes and freckles covering her frosty cheeks.

“Y/n this is Ellie. She’s a friend of Tommy’s brother.” Maria explains and you stick out a hand to shake. She looks at you funny but returns the gesture.

“Nice to meet you, I guess.” She says and you just smile ignoring that last bit.

“You too.” You say and they continue to walk leaving you to stare at the auburn haired girl.

You hadn’t been able to forget her since. She just seemed so cool and grown up compared to you. Even though you found out from your mom when they moved in that she’s the same age as you.

So as you ran home you thought of all the stuff you needed to do to get ready for tonight. You wanted her to like you.

You went into your room and shut the door loudly behind you. You stood in front of the mirror wondering if you should change your hairstyle up, or if you should put on some perfume. You changed your shirt twice and ended up laying on your bed, annoyed at the way your jeans fit, when your mom walked in.

“Are they coming over?” She asks taking in your newly messy room.

“Yeah at 6.” You say and she smiles.

“You better clean up then. What if she wants to see your room.” She teases you and you shoot up right. Looking around at the clothes scattered on your floor and the mess displayed on your vanity. You gasp internally. ‘Oh no’ is all you could think before you started to pile clothes into your hands and rush them to the laundry. Your mom just laughs before going to set the table. You finish up and rush to put on your earrings as you hear a knock at the door.

You dash past your parents and open it up. At first you only see Joel, who moves inside to greet your parents, which finally gives you a good view of her. She looked different than when you last saw her. Not really in appearance, but her demeanor. She seemed some how even more reserved. She had her hands in her pocked and a tired look on her face. All the work you had done lost all meaning in a mater of seconds and you felt humiliated realizing she probably wouldn’t care at all what you had done to look good, or how nice your room looked. But you mustered up the courage to give her a smile.

“Hi.” You say your voice almost cracking.

“Hi…” She says awkwardly. You move aside letting her in. She looks around as she gravitates towards Joel. Him and your parents notice this so as you shut the door your mom says-

“Why don’t you girls go hang out in y/n’s room as we finish up dinner.” Your heart drops as you stare at her wide eyed. Ellie just sighs and Joel nudges her in an attempt at getting her to be polite. You nervously lead the girl to your door and walk in. She stared at your posters that adorn your walls and the books and comics piled up by your bed.

“You wanna sit?” You ask motioning to the bed. She just shrugs and takes a seat. You doing the same.

“So uh, you like comics?” She asks breaking the silence and you look up at her.

“Oh yeah, I have a little collection. You like um too?” You smile and she nods.

“Yeah I had some but I couldn’t bring them to Jackson.” She says a little more comfortable than before.

“You can borrow some of mine. I’ve reread them like a hundred times so they could use some fresh eyes.” You say and she lights up.

“That would be really cool, thanks.” She says giving you a smile. It’s the first time you had seen her smile. Your stomach flipped at the sight. She was so pretty.

“So uh, do you like music?” You say and she nods enthusiastically. You spent the rest of the night getting to know each other. Talking about your interest and favorite things to do. You found out she really liked space and drawing. And you vowed to show her your favorite movies. You both were laying on your bed reading one of your comics in very loud and dramatic display when your mom knocked on the door opening it up.

“Dinner.” She says and can’t help but smile at the big grins on both of your faces.

Dinner at your respective houses became a weekly thing. And quickly a deep friendship was made. You were together all the time. You would sleep over in her garage all the time. To the point that you practically had your own drawer in her dresser. When you got old enough Maria had you and Ellie paired together on patrols. Ellie hated it. Not that she had to do them, but the fact that you got hurt so often. You’d never forget your first day. It was snowing and your feet hurt from the hours of walking in the heavy boots.

“Stay behind me okay.” She smiled moving some of your hair out of your face. You nodded and followed her around the corner towards a broken down fence. She was about to climb through when you both heard noise behind you. An infected was running straight for you. Ellie had spent weeks teaching you how to shoot. But it all seemed to slip your mind. You shot at it a few times before it tackled you to the ground. You grabbed a large rock that was next to you and tried to bash its head, but it was no use. Ellie ripped it off you stabbing it multiple times in the head. Blood splattered across her face as she did it. It fell dead to the ground and you looked up at her. The deep red lay against her frosty pale skin making your stomach flip. She kneeled in front of you and wiped away some that got on your cheek.

You had always thought Ellie was pretty. It never seemed weird to you. But in this moment you realized pretty wasn’t a good way to describe her anymore. It seemed too juvenile. Something any best friend would say. She was beautiful. When she looked at you it was almost polarizing. As she gave you a hand your grip trembled. Ellie would convince herself you were just scared after what just happened. But you knew it was the way she held on for a little too long after you got up that had your knees weak.

“Are you okay?” She asks rubbing your shoulders.

“Yeah, I’m okay…”You say not breaking eye contact.

From that day on you couldn’t help but notice little things about her. Like how she rested her hand on your waist when you would order for her at the tipsy bison. Or how she would kiss your forehead before leaving on a patrol you weren’t assigned on. Or how she was so protective of you when it came to the men in town. Little did she know they wouldn’t have a chance if they wanted one.

Ellie noticed things about you too. Like how you make sure to give her a compliment everyday. Or how you can’t help but cuddle up with her when you sleep over. Half the time leaving her aching as you sleep on her chest. Knowing it’s as close as she’s ever gonna get to what she wishes. She’s known how she’s felt about you since the first day she got here. You were just so gorgeous. It made her super nervous, so when you were so nice to her she couldn’t believe it. You began to get so close that she felt almost disgusted with how much she liked you. She even tried to date a little over the years to get over it. She dated this girl named cat who covered up her scars with a large tattoo on her forearm. But she knew that wouldn’t work out when all she could think about was how excited she was to show it to you.

The day of your 19th birthday you and a few friends went to the bar to do makeshift karaoke. Your parents, Joel, Tommy, and Maria all sat at a table in the back laughing at the sight in front of them. You and Ellie danced around like children as Dina and Jesse sang a horrible rendition of my heart will go on. When they finished up you got up and grabbed the guitar you borrowed from Joel. You start to strum and they all sit down.

You start to sing. At first all you could focus on was where you were putting your fingers. Knowing you weren’t as good as Ellie or Joel. But as you got farther into the song you looked up from the strings and at her. Whenever you heard this song you thought of her. You thought of her voice and how her skin feels against yours. You thought of how much she’s gone through and how many times she been your personal defender. You thought about how no matter what you did she was always the first and last thought you had each day. She consumed you. All you could do was stare at her as the words left you lips.

“Said she knows she lived through it to get to this moment. Ate a sleeve of saltines on my floor, and I knew then.

I would do anything you want me to.

I would do anything for you. I would do anything, I would do anything. Whatever you want me to do, I will do.

Whatever she wants, whatever she wants.

Whatever she wants

Whatever she wants

I will do anything

I will do anything

Whatever she wants

Whatever she wants…..”

The air felt thick as you both looked at each other. The others clapped and you got up walking towards her. You said nothing. Not one word. You just took a seat next to her and watched the next performance. She gripped your hand. Tight. And she didn’t let go till you got to her place that night.

You sat on her couch with a joint between your fingers and her legs entangled with yours. She ran her fingers down your thigh as she looked at you. She was humming the song you sang as you let out a puff of smoke.

You had shared endless nights like this. But the feeling that only can be described as understanding roamed through the air. You were terrified. Cause you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You turned to face her, just taking the moment in. She had changed into an old t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. Her hair was half tied up. And as she took the joint from your fingers to her lips, the sight of them parting made you squirm in your seat. She let out the smoke and you finally spoke up.

“Ellie.”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to know something.” You say and she hold your hand on hers.

“What’s up?” She says trying to play it cool. She can’t remember the last time she found anyone as beautiful as she found you right now.

“I- I think I’ve liked you from the day I met you.” You say in almost a whisper, causing her to chuckle nervously.

“I would hope so. We’re kinda best friends.” She jokes and you hold her hand tighter.

“Ellie. I’ve loved you since the day I met you.” You finally let out without falter. She went tense. But her face softened. You look at her trying to read her mind. You rub the back of her hand with your thumb. Causing her to shiver. She finally lets out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding in. And she smiled. She put her hand out to caress your cheek.

“God, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear that.” She breathes causing you to let out a small giggle.

She moves her hand to the base of your neck. Pulling you towards her.

“Im glad. Cause you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.” You whisper and gently press your lips to hers. She grins into the kiss as you run your fingers from her hands to her arms. Moving to where she’s slightly on top of you, she separates slowly. Placing small kisses around your face. You place one last kiss to her lips before you pulled her up to go lay down.

“I’ve gotta say this is probably my favorite sleep over we have ever had.” She smirks and you push her shoulder.

“You better shut up or I’m going home.” You threaten. Small laughs leaving your lips.

“Oh yeah sure. I bet you think the stuffed bear on your bed kisses better than me too.” She smiles now hovering over you. Her knees on either side of your hips as she kisses down your neck.

You grip her hips tightly messing with the hem of her shirt. Sliding your thumbs into the waistband of her boxers you tug a little causing her to nip harder at you neck. She stops for a second to remove her shirt. Causing you to stare up at her in awe.

You wrap your arms under hers and glide your fingers down her bare back.

“You’re so beautiful.” You mutter causing a pink tint to coat her cheeks. You pull her down and start to kiss a line down her chest. Returning the favor she had done to your neck. She lets out a shaky breath gripping your shirt in her hands. She pulls it off of you slowly to let the feeling of your lips linger on her skin a little longer.

“Fuck..” she whispers. A hot feeling pooling in her stomach as she looks down at your chest. She places her hand on your skin rubbing the plush of your tits softly with her thumb, making your head lean back at the feeling. Your hands rest in her hair as she leans in connecting her mouth to one. Her tongue massages the area causing you to let out a soft moan. A hand travels down to try and remove your pajama shorts. So you lift your hips to help her. Grinding into her slightly causing her to groan.

She traveled down your body leaving sloppy pecks to your skin as she goes. She thumbs the damp era of your underwear.

“Hmm.” She sounds and you look down at her. “Can I-“

“Please.” You say. Urgency in your voice.

She lowers herself to place her nose to your clothed core and she breathes in deep causing you to gasp at her actions. She tugs at the fabric helping you get it off you legs. Leaving kisses down and back up your inner thighs as she goes. Spreading you open with her fingers she plays with your folds painfully slow. Neglecting your clit on purpose just to hear you whine.

“Ellie-“

“Shhhh…” she whispers placing her lips to your cunt leaving small kisses the the area. The vibrations of her statement making you close your eyes.

She dips her tongue in grazing it up your slit. And gently sucking on your sensitive bud. You groan loudly making her grip your hips harder. Begging to move quicker she massages the area, making you grind into her face. You grip the messy bed sheets tightly as she brings a hand to slowly insert a finger into your cunt.

She moves at a delicate pace looking up at you. Your face was contorted in pleasure as you let out a moan. Your skin was starting to glisten from sweat and each time you thrust towards her, your chest would bounce. A wet spot was forming in her boxers from the sight. Your knuckles were white as you gripped her sheets. But as she moved slightly one of your hand released its grip and found a new place in her hair. Tugging slightly to direct her where you needed. She complied happily. The feeling of you clenching as she added another finger almost being enough to make her finish herself.

“Ellie don’t stop… I’m gonna…” You barley get out as she pumps her fingers in you rapidly. Running circles on your clit with her tongue as she goes. Your head rolls back as you place your other hand to palm your chest pinching yourself as a wave of release washed over your body. Letting out a string of curses as she lets you ride out your high removing her fingers. Happily cleaning you up with mouth. She kisses up your chest to your cheeks using her thumb to open your lips, she places the fingers she was just using to them. Letting you taste yourself.

“You did so good.” She smiles softly as she places a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m not done.” You say sitting up and flipping her on her back, causing her to look up at you in shock.

“It’s my turn. Whatever you want.” You smile sweetly leaving small kisses to her cheeks as you straddle her hips, locking her down.

“All I’ve ever wanted is you.” She whispers holding your face softly in her palms. Bringing you in for a kiss. It was needy. Like she was making up for lost time. Years of pent up frustration letting itself out in this moment.

You separate for a second to pull off her boxers. You notice the soaked spot but don’t say anything. Like it was a little secret all for yourself. You liked knowing that you had the same affect on her as she did for you.

You gripped her legs pulling her closer to the edge of the bed as you got down bedside it on your knees. You hoisted her thighs over your shoulder.

“God you’re so hot.” You groan as you run your palm down her toned abdomen. When you place your mouth on her slit you swear you hear her whimper out your name. She thrusts slightly on your face. Causing you to hold her down tighter. You start to move your tongue over her clit in small up and down motions, making tension build in her. You could tell she wanted to move quicker so you let her do just that. She used your face like a toy as you assisted her hips in ridding your tongue. She brought a hand down to play with her clit as you inserted your tongue in and out of her heat.

“You feel so fucking good.” She stammers out as you move her hand and replace the sensation with your lips suctioning the area and your fingers plunging in her. A loud groan escapes her lips. She couldn’t help but lean forward a little to watch you. You take notice to this and hover over her. Kissing her neck slowly. Her fingers grip your hair as your fingers continue to fill her walls. Your palm rubbing her puffy clit in the process. She becomes louder, letting out a string of curses her hips turn restless as you add another finger curling up slightly to hit her spot.

You can feel her clench around you tightly as her legs twitch. You feel her release. Cumming on your fingers making you smile against her. Kissing down her body, You remove your fingers with a steady motion. Licking her clean you drag it up to press your chest against hers. You leaned into the crook of her neck as she breathed heavily. Her chest moving up and down, mimicking yours.

You both got comfortable heads resting on her pillows as she connects her lips to yours. You feel something wet on your cheek and separate to look at her. She had small tears in the corners of her eyes. You brought your hand to caress her as she pulls you in tight, clinging to your body.

“Why are you crying?” You ask softly kissing away a tear that threatened to fall.

“I’m just so happy. I wish it wouldn’t have taken us this long to get here.” She sighs nuzzling her head in your chest with a big grin.

“Me too. Im so glad I have you.” You say running your fingers through her roots as she falls asleep in your arms. With a smile resting on her features.

[s-4pphics]

click!: in frame. 1 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you crave redemption more than love. [idk au]

WORD COUNT: 7.7k

WARNINGS: professionalphotographer!ellie, strugglingartist!oc who’s black, ANGST!!, loss and unhealthy grieving, papa issues, verbally abusive parent(PLEASE TREAD LIGHTLY), depictions of therapy and counseling, light discussion of anger management, brief mention of alcohol, bullying, a lil fluff, SMUT!! YIPPEE MDNI, bondage, squirting, bathroom sex, eating out no taqueria, ellie getting sloppy from a hot milf that’s it 

You look like your mom. 

Your father’s admiring whisper yanks you out of the hazy turbulence in your mind. You shovel a handful of caramel popcorn in your mouth. You don’t dare look at him. 

Daughter things, I guess. Your dad simply hums. Silence simmers between the two of you. It’s not comforting. Not like it should be. A bomb is coming. 

Honey, I… I love you. Your father sounds like he's crying and it pauses your aggressive chewing. You finally turn to face him and your fingers twitch when you see his globby tears. They’re heavy as he releases his regrets in silence, just like he always does during this time of year. 

Me, too, dad. 

You’re not sure if you’re lying or not. Some things are impossible to forget, you suppose. 

You eat more popcorn with a permanently damaged heart. 

FOUR YEARS LATER

FIRST DAY WITH DOCTOR BROWN. 

“Some people believe that any form of assistance is… insulting. Whether it be to them as people or… specific traits that they hold that others may find unfamiliar or unsettling. I’m not here to judge or anything of that nature. Just here to help you figure out why specific aspects of your life affect you the way they do.” 

Your arms cross over your chest. Dr. Brown realizes you’re not taking the bait, so she attempts to get you more comfortable. “I think icebreakers could help ease some of the tension. So… What’s your favorit— “

“My dad died last year.” 

Your statement makes her freeze, her smile melting off her face, eyes shifting across her face. She adjusts some papers on her clipboard and clicks her pen. “Alright, hun,” Her gentle tone makes your stomach twist. “Let’s talk about it. What was the relationship with your dad like?” You simply shrug. 

Dr. Brown nods and tries again. “Were you and him close? Your notes say you and your mother were inseparable, just like me and mine.” 

Your nails sink into your cuticles and tears burn in your eyes, “I… I wanted to be. Close.” You whisper. “He wasn’t around like that, though.” 

She scribbles and solemnly nods, “Did he work often?” Your head bobs and droplets stream down your cheeks. 

“I didn’t think I’d care that he died… He was never around growing up, so… like, whatever.” You grumble lamely.

“What did losing him feel like?” 

The end of your mouth curls downward, the familiar searing you’ve grown to loathe, “Like… the world was burnin’.” 

“Elaborate.” She pries softly. 

Another bounce from your shoulders. You readjust in your seat. “I wasn’t even sad. Just…” You trail off, fingers twitching under your arm. 

“Angry. I was angry all the time.” You rush out quietly, face burning with shame. “Just like he was.” You pause when your breath shakes, “I wish I got some of my mom’s traits. My dad’n I are just alike.” You fiddle with the sleeves of your sweater. 

“… You’re not like him— “

“I am— “

“You’re not. You’re trying to put in effort to be better for the future. Could he have said the same?” She’s stern when she speaks.

You’re stumped. You wipe your tears harshly. For the first time, you're at a loss for words. 

WEEK TWO WITH DOCTOR BROWN. 

“Think about the first time you saw your dad lash out. You can elaborate on how you felt, how you reacted, how your environment changed… Anything you feel comfortable sharing.” Your eyes stay glued to your therapist’s couch as you recall the day. Every detail and foul verbiage he directed towards your mother resurfaces and falls at your sock-covered feet. 

It was the morning of your first day of second grade. Your mother spent the entire morning hot-combing your hair, bumping your ends, littering your locks that were bound to recoil in seconds in bobbles and clips. She could tell by your expression that you didn’t like it, but she completed your bright pink outfit with it’s not for you, it’s for me! Sit still!  She never failed to live vicariously through you; Every childhood moment she couldn’t live out was now yours. 

Your father wasn’t around much. He was a truck-driver, on a constant voyage to wherever he was instructed to go, hundreds to thousands of miles away from solace for months — sometimes years at a time. He missed birthdays, holidays, family reunions; There was always a missing space for him somewhere in your childhood home, whether it be his customized keychain that he forgot, shoes he didn’t pack, a hug he didn’t give. Proof of him was always scattered around somewhere, but he was a shadow. A blank memory. 

So, why were your cartoons interrupted by his booming voice in the kitchen? 

You remember turning the television down, only by a couple digits, your ears honing in on every word he screamed at your mother. You were so confused. Half of those words you’d never heard before. Why was he so mad this early in the morning? 

You knew it was serious when your mother retaliated just as loudly, the cracks and shrieks from her belts sounding alarms in your brain. Your mom’s in trouble! Help her! But how could you? You were defenseless against him. It felt like the day flew by as their aggression intensified, curses nearly shattering the glass of your backyard door before everything went quiet. 

But still, your feet carried you to peek behind the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen. Your attempts at being discreet were pointless, though. When you saw your mother pinned up against the counter by your father, tears streaming down her face as he spat with every whisper onto her cheek, you gasped. Your memory is washy after that, but you remember your mother wiping her tears and slapping that comforting grin on her face. You wish you didn’t remember how broken she sounded when she said alright, baby! Ready for school? Don’t wanna be late! 

You suffered through social studies, language arts, and math. Your mind wasn’t where it should’ve been; You couldn’t shake the fact that your mother could be hurt and she had no one to tell. You just prayed to yourself as your teacher spoke, hoping that your mom would be on time to pick you up at the end of the day. 

Your eyes travel over the teal incisions of thread on your therapist’s seat. You’re still not used to the sound of your own voice. “It’s… it’s a funny story…” You sound so weak. You retell what you can, all while following the tip of your therapist’s scribbling pen. 

Why did it have to be green? Why are the clicks deafening? 

“Ellie, holy fucking — shit, these look fucking incredible!” Yuki whispers, expression impressed as she snoops over the auburn-haired girl’s shoulder, inspecting the aerial shots she’d taken a few hours ago. Editing is a bitch. “I don’t know how you do it. You’re…” 

“A genius, I know,” Ellie says dryly, a soft grin hidden behind the hand that holds her head up. It’s almost eleven. “M’almost done— “

“Nope! Not happening!” Another voice exclaims from the black lounge chair on the opposite side of the room. “You’re not the one that has to lock up every goddamn night! I ain’t stayin’ here ‘til two again! You got two seconds to finish up before I drag you up outta here.” 

Yuki giggles at Saliyah’s scolding, and Ellie sighs. The pictures look almost perfect. Almost. They’re not there yet! All she needs is an hour… or three—

“What did I say! —“

“Alright, alright, fuck.” Ellie shakes her head before closing all her tabs, pulling her flash drive out of the PC before shutting it down. She stands from her rolling chair and snags her blazer from over the back of it, throwing it over her shoulders and grabbing her work bag, camera already securely inside. She shoves the drive in a random pocket before stretching. 

The two girls already have all of their belongings in hand, more than ready to clock the fuck out. Yuki eyes her slyly, sarcasm dripping from her tone, “Oh, wooow, she’s actually taking orders, now? Listening to instructions for the first time? —“

“Can you stop.” Ellie mutters as she follows the girls descending the stairs. “No!” They both say in unison. Ellie smiles. Does she really stay out that often? There’s no way she’s that stubborn. 

All three girls crack jokes as they vacant the building, ensuring all the lights and equipment are shut off and prepped for tomorrow. It’s an early day. 

“Alright, bitches!” Yuki screams into the darkness, bag swinging as her heels click-clack on the pavement. “I want you bright and bushy-tailed tomorrow! Busy day! No time to fuck arou— “ 

Saliyah yawns, eyes droopy, “Girl… fuck you.” Ellie cackles and rubs her tired eyes. She can’t wait to get these six hours in. And see her baby. Saliyah wraps her arms around Ellie’s neck, muttering see you tomorrow, stinker into her neck. Ellie hums and holds her before watching her get into her vehicle. 

Ellie does the same after both girls leave the parking lot, her head falling back onto the headrest, eyes shutting in exhaustion. Today was insane… Fuck, it was incredible. She's always accepted opportunities to take photos in nature. Landscapes are her prestige, but when she got the offer to take aerial shots of the ocean, she couldn’t say no. Just when she thought she’d never get on an aircraft out of fear…  

The shots were mystical, the monsoon winds carrying the waves in all directions as the foams ripple, a scene straight out of her dreams. The second she got off the helicopter, she got to editing. Staying in late to perfect her captures has become a terrible habit, but what can she say? She loves her job. Thank God her coworkers are as sweet as cherry pie and support her bad habit. Besides tonight, apparently. 

Days like this keep Ellie humbled… Most times. She deserves to boast every once in a while. She often thinks back on her college days, how out of touch chances like these seemed. The number of times she was brushed off by respected professionals because she lacked “necessary resources” was astronomical. But look at her now. She had everything she could ever want: a career she’s passionate about, healthy friendships, and the means to take care of her father. 

Well… she has most things. 

She sighs and starts her vehicle, the diamonds in her Rolex sparkling under the street lights beaming in from the window. The streets are calm. Not normally bustling like they would on a regular day. The clouds are coming in; Rain is due. She’s so excited. 

It’s a calm drive back to her small home. She pulls into the driveway and exits with all her supplies, unlocking and entering her place of peace. 

Meow! Meow! 

Ellie clicks her tongue at Pickle, “Hiii, mama. I’m home.” She drops her bag on the small couch near the front door, bending down to pick her up. “You’re heavy, fuck.” The baby purrs and nuzzles into her neck as they enter the kitchen. She sets her down on the counter and opens the fridge for water. There’s soft scuffling from behind her as she sips. 

Ellie turns to see Pickle playing with a pen, rolling it across granite. She swallows her last gulp before sighing, picking up the utensil, the one memory she kept of you. Your colorful fucking custom ballpoint pen. Pickle nibbles her fingers, trying to snatch it back to play with, but Ellie clicks it over and over. 

“Miss her? Yeah?” She whispers. Pickle licks her index. Ellie will never admit it, but she thinks about you whenever she sees her baby. Yours, too.

She hopes you’re alright.

“You said that going to his funeral was different from your mom’s. Do you mind elaborating?” 

You shrug and scoff. “Shouldn’t everybody feel sad when they parents die?” Dr. Brown mimics you, “Not at all. Every reaction to loss is different and not all reactions are symmetrical.” 

“I was angry.” Your statement is blunt and abrasive. 

“Expound.” 

“I wanted to dig him up and spit on him my damn self.” You say, sharp as razor blades. Brown hums, unfazed by your sudden aggression; What the hell do therapists write on those clipboards? “I just… Seein’ all these fuckers I didn’t know talk about how fuckin’… great he was and how missed he’ll be was fuckin’ infuriating. They don’t know shit about that man or the shit he’s done.” 

Sympathy washes over Dr. Brown’s pupils. “See, your temper is the reason you’re here. You’re not obligated to forgive anybody that wronged you, but…” She’s simultaneously stern and empathic, “You do not get to use those emotions to inflict negativity onto the people around you. You’re perpetuating the same harm you wanted to avoid in the first place.”  

You instantly know what she’s referring to and guilt radiates all the way down to your toes. Amaya… Oh, you miss her. Another good person caught in your violent crossfire. Your last conversation was vile, and you hate yourself every day for the things you said to the only person who unconditionally cared about your wellbeing. Tears brew in your ducts, but you blink them away. 

“I didn’t… know what to do…” You didn’t, so you screamed and shouted and told her to never call your fucking phone again. The last thing you berated was the final nail in the coffin for your relationship. You left me, you’d said over and over until the line went dead. You left me alone! I fucking needed you! 

“No one has the answers for these types of situations. Why we react the way that we do to traumatic events will always be a mystery.” She adjusts in her chair, leg crossing over the other. “What I do know is that… you’re fighting grief. You’re choosing not to experience it, and it’s making you lash out on people who don’t deserve it.” 

But how does one grieve the person that made their life… unlivable? Through rage. Rage in its purest form: unfiltered, erratic, sizzling. It’s unrelenting and unforgiving and holds no bounds, prepared to be released at any moment, no matter who’s present. Your father’s home has seen it all at this point: glass shattering on walls, screaming into the closet where all his clothes hang, punching the pillow he slept on every night. 

Everything was exactly where your father left it, and instead of crying, you relinquished hell on the home he left in your name. You’re still surprised it wasn’t engulfed in flames after his funeral. 

“I just…” Harsh sniffles from you, desperately wiping your tears with damp hoodie sleeves, “I don’t know what to do. Nothing feels… real anymore.” 

“You’re real, baby.” This is the most delicate Dr. Brown has ever sounded, tone hushed. “Your feelings are real, your pain is real, but so is everyone else’s. You have to remember that.” 

You’re listening so intently, “What I'd suggest…” You already know what she’s going to say, and you’re petrified. You sag into your seat. 

You owe those two girls an apology.

Flashes of green race across your memory. The meadows are back, and they’re haunting. 

“Three.” You whisper. 

“Hm?” 

“I owe…” A heavy exhale. “Three girls an apology.” 

OCTOBER, 2013 

Ellie’s officially fifteen. She’d give anything to be home right now. 

She was so happy before she left that morning. Her dad woke her up with a heaping stack of iced chocolate chip pancakes that were the size of her head and happy birthday candles. Laughter echoed through their household, following as they cascaded down the stairs to blast music. Neighbors be damned. Everything was perfect. Up until she was dressed and ready and in the car. 

Ellie’s dad held her hand the entire drive. He didn’t comment on her white knuckles as she gripped his digits when he kissed the back of her hand. It took her a second to exit the car when they arrived, so he said the usual. You got this, kiddo. The extra encouragement provided a boost, for sure. She was able to get to class on time. 

Every time a wad of paper or a sharpened pencil hits the back of her head, she regrets not begging her dad to let her stay home. She’s grown used to the snickers, the shoulder chucks in the hallway, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

English concludes and she’s silently packing when her bag gets yanked out of her hand. 

Missed you, stalker, A kid who Ellie doesn’t fucking remember snarks with a dark grin. Where’s that book you always have—

Tyler! The teacher’s voice booms, the class filling with oooh’s, That's enough. Give her stuff back now. 

C’mooon, I can’t talk to my girlfriend? The remaining students burst into laughter and Ellie’s face burns, swallowing the lump that’s forming in her throat. 

How about I call home? Tyler sucks his teeth at the threat while his friends laugh, dropping Ellie’s things on her desk with little care. She wastes no time to flee, shoving her earpods in and synching each trembling breath with the heavy percussion. 

Her dad comes to pick her up an hour later. 

-

-

A light tap on your shoulder tears your attention away from the lengthy equations on the board. Numbers and letters? Your fucking ass; Absolutely not!

You turn to Amaya, who’s smiling wide, shoving a folded note in your hand, rushing you to open it. Your brows crease as you face forward, unraveling the nest crevices and met with… hearts? Glitter? Pretty penmanship? No man wrote this, thank God. 

Hi. You’re really pretty and nice. Would you like to sit with me during lunch? 

Ceniyah 

… Ceniyah? … Thee Cece? The person you’ve been obsessed with since middle school? What the fuck is going on! 

You turn back to Amaya who’s giggling into her palm, catching glimpses of a shy Ceniyah, who keeps her head down, her beaded braids shielding her face. Your face burns and you jerk back forward. It’s not a fucking prank, what the fuck, what the fuck—

Class drags like a bitch, but the bell finally rings, and everyone hustles, shoving books in their bags, running to the cafeteria. You refuse to move, though. Your iron is low and the person you’re in love with asked you to crunch on celery sticks with her. Alone. You're bound to pass out the second you breathe wrong. 

Hi.

You nearly fly out of your seat at her soft tone. She sounds like an angel. You’re going to die. You jump out of your chair and… take in the beauty that she is. She smells like heaven and her skin is perfect, not a blemish in sight. You hope she can’t see your acne scars… and she’s shorter than you. Are minors allowed to get married? 

H-Hey, You hold up the pink piece of construction paper, I, uh, got your note… It’s beautiful. Her smile shines brighter than the sun. She shakes her head and the chains locked on her clips tinker like fairies. 

Are you kiddin’ me! That mural you helped create was crazy. That was beautiful. 

I love you. 

Your eyes go wide. Did you say that? You don’t think you said that… Her smile turns confused and you realize you said that. You almost stab yourself with your pencil. I mean, like, I love how you appreciate art! Like, not m-many people… do that, and stuff…

She smirks and your heart squeezes with delight, And stuff? She inquires with an arched brow. 

I’d appreciate it if you ladies headed to lunch so I can enjoy mine. Your teacher interrupts, And the next note that gets passed earns a detention. 

A soft, floral-scented hand closes around your wrist, over your beaded bracelets and charms. You grab your bag with your last remaining strength and follow her like a puppy, her flowy skirt brushing against the bottoms of your jean-clad legs. 

Best… day… ever. 

PRESENT 

Ellie needs to start doing finger stretches. Her hands are starting to hurt every time she clocks out. 

She’s sitting at her desk, re-editing the infant photos she took earlier today. The twin girls from earlier were absolute angels, smiling and cooing up at the camera behind their matching pink pacifiers. She's never thought about having children… ever, but it might not be so bad—

Meow! Meow, meow! MeowMEOW—

… Nevermind. Kids are not for her. She can barely get this one to act right. The pictures are cute, though. 

“What’s the matter, mama?” She coos down at a doe-eyed kit-kat. “Hungies?” Pickle jumps up and into her lap, staring at the bright screen that displays Ellie’s editing software. Ellie smirks down at her, “What, you wanna try?” 

Pickle blinks up at her. No thoughts, just kibble. 

She decides to save her progress on the photos and give her munchkin some love. The few minutes of head pats and runs are cut short when she gets a pop-up from her email. She pays it no mind at first, but she zeroes in on the subject with furrowed brows. It simply reads hi… an overdue apology. Ellie blinks a couple times before suspecting spam… But who the fuck names a spam email something that cryptic? What the fuck? 

Ellie opens it… and her body goes numb as her eyes follow each word. 

hi, ellie. i’m not sure how to start this off, but i hope it’s decent enough to sit through. i apologize in advance. 

you probably don’t remember me, but we had statistics and used to live together in college. it was only for two months (i think, kind of a blur) but… yeah. i hope it semi-kinda rings a bell. hi again.

this is a very random time to reach out, and i understand any confusion, but i just wanted to apologize for everything. i was terrible to you. i'd never thought i'd become a judgmental person, but i did. i mocked you, i spoke behind your back, and probably ruined your last year of school, and i carry that regret with me everywhere i go. i’m not sure if i'll ever be able to express my remorse properly. 

i’m trying to do better. i want to do better, but i can’t unless i express it. 

you never have to talk to me again, and i understand if you don’t, but if you ever want to have a conversation with me, i’d be more than willing to come wherever you are to do so. or we can exchange numbers if it’s less of a hassle. i see how busy you are. 

thank you if you took out any time to read this jumbled mess of thoughts. i’m very nervous. i hope you continue to live beautifully. 

sincerely, someone trying to start fresh. 

(p.s. i swear i'm not a stalker. you’re really popping on instagram. congratulations on everything.) 

Ellie wastes no time and unplugs her entire PC, the screen going black. Her heart is racing and water surfaces above her pupils. Pickle purrs in her arms as she backs her rolling chair from under the desk and scurries into her bedroom. She sets the kitty down on her bed and clutches her chest. She forgets to count, forgets to breathe as detailed images of you scatter in her head. 

You… what the fuck.

Ellie feels her hands start to shake, so she squeezes them in a fist as she paces. Her gasps are choked and she’s spiraling into panic; She can’t unsee your teary, brown eyes, how you tried to mask your sadness when she stated she was leaving. She was able to convince herself that she’d never see you again, and it took her so long to be okay with that. She’s grown to be okay without your presence.

The burnt trail she left behind has reignited again. She's sinking, drowning, just like she did years ago. 

WEEK FIVE WITH DR. BROWN

“How do you feel now? Be honest.” 

“… Still shitty… but alright, I guess.” You’re hoarse when you speak. 

“Elaborate. What does alright mean for you?” 

You pick at your fingers, “I’m not… I don’t wanna, like, kill myself… if that’s what you’re asking. The ball’s in their court now, I guess. I’m… I’m just alright.” Your shoulders bounce in a shrug. 

“Has anyone answered?” Your head shakes in denial. “Don’t let that jeopardize your progress. However they react to you contacting them is not on you anymore. They either accept it or they don’t, and they’re valid in both options.” 

Dr. Brown pauses and eyes you skeptically, “What?” You ask. 

She shrugs, “One person isn’t on your making amends list.” 

Your reply is immediate, “Probably for a reason.” 

“Do you remember what you told me during our first meeting?” 

Irritation boils under your skin. “I see where you’re taking this conversation and I’m not messin’ wit’ it… Respectfully. Next topic, please.” 

Her hands raise in surrender, “Ay’, I’m not here to make you do diddly-squat. Merely providing perspective.” 

“Right.” 

“You did beat that girl to a pulp, though. I will say— “

“It’s what she deserved.” You say flatly. “She… humiliated me, and when her bitch left, she tried to come back to me. Get me pregnant— “

“Chile, I’m not tryna hear all that— “

You scoff and fall back in your seat, cushions and pillows molding with the curve of your spine. Dina bringing her happy ass to your father’s home after his death was one of the most infuriating experiences of your entire goddamn life. The second you opened the door, you were met with wildfire and permanently scarred. The least you could do is give her a fucking black eye. 

What you did after that… you’ll never regret. Ever. She can blast you on Twitter all she wants; She’s dead to you. 

Dr. Brown sips on her black tea with a pointed stare, “Yes, ma’am?” You say sarcastically. 

“Watch that tone,” That look in her eye… she meant that. You’ll be quiet. “She was wrong for what she did, but you ain’t innocent.” 

“I’m sorry, but I disagree. That one… she can choke. I don’t care.” Dr. Brown is disappointed by your answer, but frankly, you don’t care. That ship sailed and sank like the goddamn Titanic. 

She seems disappointed in your answer, but she lets it go. “… Alright, then.” 

On the brink of a heart attack perfectly explains how Ellie’s been feeling for the past week. The number of times she’s reread your fucking email is genuinely embarrassing, but she’s weighing her options: she either blocks you or accepts your offer. She's never been so conflicted in her life. She desperately needs a fucking break. 

She never takes Saliyah and Yuki up on their offers to turn up on Friday nights, but her rampant emotions backed her into a corner… and now she’s tipsy on the dancefloor of some rinky-dink club. One night of release wouldn’t hurt. 

Ellie really wishes she had a grilled cheese. They’re quite delicious… Probably not the thoughts she should be having with a hot older woman pushing back on her to fucking T-Pain, but she’s hungry! Liquor gives her the appetite of a fucking rhinosaurous, what can she say! 

Saliyah and Yuki are handling business for her, though, giving the lady’s ass very encouraging slaps every time their hips connect. Ellie probably looks like a fucking dumbass as she pumps her fist in the air like an old man, but she can’t remember the last time she partied. Sue her! 

It’s not until the woman stands upright, her sweaty, nearly bare back pressed against Ellie’s button-up, an arm coming up to loop around her neck, slightly shifting her bow tie that Ellie freezes, her fists clenching even tighter in the air. Her core gives a sharp squeeze when she feels sticky, glossed lips imprint on her throat. Her eyes bulge as she frantically searches for guidance from her friends, but they’re no fucking help, as usual! What the hell is miming sex and eating pussy going to do for her? She can barely breathe. 

Her friends shoot her finger guns in encouragement before heading back to the bar. A tongue darts out to lap up her anxiety-induced sweat, and her body tremors, her hands untwisting to land on the girl’s jean covered hips for leverage. She feels teeth beam on her neck and her entire body flushes. 

“You’re adorable!” Ellie hears her scream over the blasting music. Her tongue jumbles as she searches for a reply, but nothing leaves. She just drops her head onto the woman’s shoulder… and nearly flat lines when she eyes the cleavage sitting taut in her halter top. Her heart’s pulses synch with the ones from her clit when the woman giggles. Ellie’s ninety-five-point six percent sure that her nipples are poking through her shirt. 

Her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek when the woman spins to face her, chest to chest, noses almost touching. The woman’s gaze drops to her neck, cunning as a fox as she undoes the first button of her shirt before unraveling the loop of her bow tie. She leans in, wafts of cinnamon flooding Ellie’s nostrils. 

“Come to the bathroom with me?” Ellie’s nodding before the lady can conclude the purr in her ear. Her hand gets snagged and she’s being dragged through the hot crowd, all the way to the back of the club and shoved into the giant restroom. She finally takes in the goddess in front of her: dark hair, plump lips, pretty lashes. The wrinkles by her eyes and laugh lines are sending dopamine alarms in her brain. 

Ellie receives one gentle kiss that makes her hips

grind forward before she hears, “You ever been tied up?” The raven-haired woman mumbles against her mouth. She whines, cheeks burning, “N-No,” she whispers. 

Her perfect teeth shine, “You wanna be?” 

Does she? “I — yeah, I guess?” 

“Put your wrists together,” she hums and Ellie does. Her own bow tie gets looped and twisted around her nimble hands. The woman drops to her knees in front of the trembling girl, massaging her thighs over her jeans, planting kisses all over them, “You gotta name, honey?” 

“Ellie… M’Ellie…” The woman’s hands creep up to unbutton her jeans, the soft hiss of the zipper, “What’s yours?” She only receives a shrug. “Whatever you want it to be.” Her jeans are yanked down seconds later, her… fucking Cartoon Network boxers drenched all the way through. The woman giggles and calls Ellie a cutie pie and her clit jumps. 

Her manicured nails hook under the band of Ellie’s boxers, slowly inching them down until her soft, sticky hairs are on display and her boxers are around her knees, “Gonna let me eat this pussy out, angel?” 

Ellie’s vision whites out. Only for a second, “Y-Yes, ma’am…”

Ellie’s sopping lips and pulled apart, her red, throbbing clit on display for the fucking witch in front of her. “You’re so fuckin’ cute. Anybody ever play with this pretty cunt?” Reality crashes down on her like a boulder as images of you touching her, kissing her flash before her eyes. Her jaw slacks as her words flurry. 

“Just — fuck, just one time.” 

“Yeah?” She coos, massaging gentle circles on her clit, “I'm your lucky second?” Ellie nods frantically. Her knees buckle when a sharp slap lands on her pussy, “Ffuck—“ The strokes on her clit are punishing, fast and non-stopping, the woman’s teeth gritted when she asks, “Steppin’ out on your girl, huh?” 

Ellie moans around her denial while her cheeks glow, “N— agh, s-shit, wasn’t m’girl—“

“Yeah? She touch you like me?” The woman snickers, and Ellie burns red. She’s already so close and she can’t fucking think, “Think m’cummin’—“ Ellie slurs, her tongue thick in her mouth as her walls squeeze down, desperately trying to pull something, anything in as deep as possible. 

“Can feel it. Tell me when.” But Ellie couldn’t. Her orgasm crashes into her like a fucking truck and her body falls forward, legs trembling as it wracks through her in harsh waves. The thighs that try to close are forced open, sharp stings radiating off her skin from the nails that pierce them. Strong suctions attack Ellie’s clit and she sobs, practically riding the woman’s face. Vibrations from satisfied hums stimulate her further, and she swears she’s going to pass out. 

The pleasure builds all over again and her eyes squeeze shut, her hips thrusting forward and into the woman’s mouth. Her optics cycle into her skull when the space right below her clit gets stimulated just right and she rides that edge all over again, but this time, it’s stronger. The woman’s groaning in her pussy like she’s starving, and Ellie can barely garble her warning of another orgasm. 

She squeaks when a gentle finger slides between her walls and she wishes it felt like yours did. Ellie’s bound hands entangle in the soft locks and pull, pushing her head any which way to guide her where she needs. She doesn’t register that she’s whining your name until the woman asks, “Tha’s your girl?” Right on her pussy, and Ellie tips.

She’s so loud when she explodes all over this stranger’s face, wetness coating her inner thighs, dripping all the way down to the bottoms locked around her ankles. You take refuge in the nasty side of her brain as she envisions you between her legs, you making her feel this good. Something about the way you touch her… She thinks it's impossible to replicate till this day. 

When Ellie comes down, she falls against the door, relishing in the steady kitten licks on her twitching bud. One last gentle kiss, and the woman separates from the mess between Ellie’s thighs, chest wet with her juices. 

“Good, honey?” 

Ellie blinks like she’s risen from the dead, short hair clinging to her forehead. She shoots the woman two thumbs up and she chuckles, untying Ellie’s hands and helping her back onto her feet. The woman helps her redress after she cleans herself up, and Ellie’s nose twitches when her own stickiness latches onto her clothes. Her arms fall back to her sides when her belt gets secured. 

She’s winded when she finally speaks, “Um… thanks…” How the fuck does Ellie say goodbye to someone who sucked her soul out?

“No problem…” The woman’s warm hands are soft as they push away damp strands from Ellie’s forehead. The freckled girl nearly purrs. Call her Pickle at this point. 

Ellie steps away from the door so that the fucking seductress can exit. The woman backs away and unlocks the door with a gentle smile. “You should text her.” 

Ellie’s stomach churns. “… What.” 

“The girl that’s not your girl.” That’s the last thing she says before stepping out. Ellie’s heart plummets when her eyes lock with Saliyah’s, then Yuki’s. Her friends gawk at her disheveled appearance, lipstick stains littered all over her button up. Ellie’s not nearly as embarrassed as she should be; All she can think about is you. 

“I think I’m in trouble.” Ellie states mindlessly.

“Doesn’t look like it.” Yuki snickers and pulls Ellie out of the bathroom. She hides her face when she’s met with the long line of people desperately needing to piss. 

WEEK SEVEN WITH DOCTOR BROWN.

“You look bright.” 

You feel brighter. Just a little bit. You’ve finally gotten your locs retwisted. 

“Amaya texted me back.” Dr. Brown seems impressed at your statement, happy for you. A small smile makes its way onto your face. 

“Yeah? What’d Ms. Producer say?” 

“She, um… She wants to have dinner.” 

“Oh? And what’d you say?” 

“I said of course and then sobbed until I got here.” Dr. Brown chuckles, “When’s the big meal?” 

“In two days. I got a hotel near where she’s at, so… Yeah. Probably won’t see me for a little.” 

“Good for you, honey.” She says proudly, “Heard from any others?” Your head shakes. It’s not surprising that Abby and Ellie haven’t reached out to you. They don’t owe you any closure, even though it took you a while to accept your karma. 

“Progress is progress, nonetheless.” Her tone reverts back to stern, “Remember… when you see that girl, don’t expect anything to come from it. She’s going out of her way to speak with you, not the other way around.” 

Your head bows shamefully. You're incredibly nervous to see your best friend… if you deserve to call her that anymore. Anxiety isn’t foreign to you, but you’re anticipating the worst for your meeting. You’d give anything to mend your relationship with Amaya, but how’re you going to be able to overcome the guilt of abandoning her?

You can’t remember the last time you went to the campus coffee shop. 

When Amaya sent you her new address in the middle of your old college city, you sobbed for half an hour. You’re not sure why considering the entirety of your graduating class is gone (hopefully in hell); It’s a mix of emotions coming back here. The baristas that used to work here have been replaced with new bushy-tailed freshmen with under eye bags. The coffee isn’t the best, but it’s oddly nostalgic. You feel fucking old just looking at their bright customer service smiles.

Your attention gets snagged away from your steaming cup when a sharp gasp echoes from behind you, nearly spilling your drink all over your flannel when someone calls your name. Anxiety spikes in your gut when you see… 

Who is that? 

“Oh my goodness! Sweetheart!” An older woman with gray hair and a cardigan places her hand on your shoulder and your eyes bulge out of your skull. “It’s so good to see you!”

What the fuck is going on? “You... You, too, uh… ma’am!” You put on the most believable smile you can. Is your memory really this fucking bad?

“Students don’t usually stick around after this long! Our major was pretty small, you know how it is.” Major… Students… Graphic design… Professor! Your memory clicks but her name doesn’t. What the fuck is this woman’s name! You feel like a cunt all over again! 

“I’d love to catch up if you’re sticking around!”��

“Um… yeah, of course.” Her smile is bright when she enters the line. Relief floods through you when she gets to the service counter and one of the baristas says good morning, Professor Meyers! 

You silently thank the Lord. 

-

-

“What brings you back to town, honey!” Professor Meyers asks excitedly. 

“Um… just missin’ school, I guess.” You lie. Fuck this school. 

She swallows her sip of tea before pausing, “Wow. First time I heard that. I didn’t see you at graduation!” 

Your chest concaves and your face burns, “I, uh. I didn’t graduate. I dropped out.” Professor Meyers' expression drops, pity written all over her face. 

“Wh— Why?” 

You shut down her interrogation, “I just… stuff happened. I couldn’t handle everything all at once.” Her eyes sadden and she places a comforting hand on top of yours. 

“I’m so sorry, honey. Whatever it was… I hope it’s okay, now.” 

“Getting through it.” You shrug, feigning nonchalance. The air is suddenly suffocating. 

“Y’know… if you’re interested…” Professor Meyers’ tone is suggesting. Your brow quirks at the woman plotting in front of you. 

“Some of the art profs are always looking for some extra help for the introductory courses. Your rough drafts were always pretty spectacular.” 

Your body burns. “Thank you.” 

She smiles and reaches into her bag in the other chair, pulling out a small card and handing it to you. “This is my contact information. I can set you an interview with Professor Ronson if you’d wanna join the little alumni support team.” 

You accept her card, “But I’m not… I didn’t graduate— “

“Oh, hush now! If you go to college, you’re an alumni! These exclusive rules are outdated!” Professor Meyers stands with her bag and tea. “I gotta run, but please consider it! It could be a great marketing opportunity for you!” 

You're left to simmer in your thoughts as she rushes out of the cafe. You didn’t even have the chance to tell her that you haven’t touched a canvas since your father’s funeral. 

You waltz into the upscale restaurant with tied lungs. Prepping an outfit for tonight was a hassle; You were forced to rummage through your father’s closet for suitable attire. You can’t remember the last time you made a purchase for yourself. 

You feel out of place standing here with the… upper class. They’re dressed to the nines and it’s incredibly intimidating. Your eyes cast downward to your wrinkly shirt and blazer; Why didn’t you bring a fucking iron? 

“How can I help you, miss?”

Your eyes bulge when they lock with the host’s and gut churns with discomfort. Your legs wobble closer to the counter, “I— there’s… reservation…”

The host stares at you with utter confusion, “Oh, sure! What’s the name?” 

“Um… Amaya— “

“Ms. Robinson?” The host’s eyes fill with glitter, “Oh my gosh, when I saw her walk in earlier, I was like, no way she’s actually here. This is crazy! But it was really her! I couldn’t believe— “

Another host interjects, “My apologies, ma’am! She’s a bit, uh, excited. Your table is right this way.” The host begins walking, and your feet move on autopilot, “Would you like a menu?” 

“No. I’m good, thanks.” You won’t be able to keep anything down anyway. 

You move through bustling walkways, ears filled with bouts of obnoxious laughter and corny jokes with each table you pass. 

Your heart stutters in your chest when you see the isolated leather and rosewood booth where Amaya sits, her back to you. There’s two glasses and a bottle of… something on the table. 

“Ms. Robinson! Your guest is here!” 

Amaya, filled glass in hand, cranes her neck and meets your flitting gaze. Her eyes are stagnant, unmoving, and your nerves wrack. She looks fucking immaculate with the slit in her black dress, smokey makeup, heeled

shoes. She’s dressed down for a fucking funeral. Yours. 

You’re actually not ready to see her. You’re not ready at all. 

-

-

“You want a glass?” 

Amaya’s tone is cold. Colder than the dripping neck of the bottle right in front of you. “N-No thank you.” 

She scoffs laughter around the rim, “Shocking.” You scramble for a reply, anything to say to the woman oozing impatience in front of you. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper. She sets her glass down with an unsteady clink. 

“You said that already.” She states, brown eyes sharp. “Why are you?” 

You scratch at your ear, trying to mask the tremors in your fingertips, “Because… I — I wasn’t…” 

“I don’t hear from you for months,” She spits, “And then I get a phone call from my drunk best friend screamin’ at me, tellin’ me that I fucking left her to grieve by herself… because I’m selfish and money hungry… Right?”

Angry tears sizzle in Amaya’s eyes as she continues, “And I still come and visit you… only to get a door slammed in my fuckin’ face.” 

You’re completely frozen; You can barely look her in the eye. Your hands are clenched together under the table, nausea creeping up your throat. “I… there’s no excuse for what I did— “

Amaya’s eyes are void, “Why did you do it.” 

“I don’t know how to explain it,” you rush out, desperate. You’re losing her, “He — I was just — I couldn’t control myself and I screamed and yelled and blamed everyone for what happened. I was just so mad and I couldn’t stop— “

“Abby called me two days ago.” 

You gasp, “S-She did—?” 

“She told me she hated you.” Amaya says plainly. The remaining shards of your heart dissipate like dust, leaving your mouth when you whimper, “O-Okay.” Tears stream down your cheeks and neck, harsh sniffles filling the small corner of the restaurant. “She hasn’t, um… never mind.” That’s why she hasn’t reached out, you suppose. Well deserved. 

“I don't… hate you, you know that, right?” 

You sob, palms in your eyes, “S’okay if you do. I deserve it.” 

She shrugs, “I don’t. I’m just very disappointed in you.” You nod in agreement, in understanding. You accept that this is probably the last time you’ll ever see someone you considered a sister. 

“I’m so sorry, May— “

“M’gonna head out. I’m,” She wipes a tear and grabs her bag, throwing a hundred-dollar bill on the table. “I… I don’t hate you.” You cry as you watch Amaya gather herself, stand, and leave without another word. You heave and attempt to dry your face with the fresh napkin but they won’t stop flowing. 

It’s difficult, accepting that you’re undeserving. That you’ve dug yourself into a hole that you can’t escape. It’s dark and cold and you’re desperate for comfort but it never comes because you chased it all away. You eye the tall bottle that sweats; Very tempting, but you leave it where it stands. The blame for your downfall is yours to take; The only reward you can receive now is from your upkeep. To dig yourself out from beneath the maggot-infested dirt. To resurface and recover what you can. 

You’re unsure how long you sit here crying. Devastation sets hard in your tummy when you stand to leave the restaurant, ignoring the judgmental stares from the annoying, old fuckers that wouldn’t stop glaring at you. 

The air outside is fresh and soothing as you walk, right past your parked car. Past the young people mingling and taking pictures. Past the girl doing graffiti on the old building across the street. Something beats in your chest when you eye her spray paint cans, brushes in her hand, the bright colors all over her bare arms. Her passion is evident, even from a distance, and you miss that. That feeling that takes over when you create something that no one else can replicate. Her style is unique to her just like yours is to you. 

Color sparks in your soul for the first time in a year, and you know what you have to do tomorrow morning. 

taggiesss yasss n slayyyy @dyk3ang3l @ellieloml @inf3ct3dd @fromminaa @womenofarcane @sawaagyapong @mina-281 @aouiaa @bbglmfao @i00rii @sakiigami @starologist @southelroys @diddiqueen @trackinglessons @ellieswhorcrux @villainousbear @p4ison1vy @tohoko @yuckyfucky @dollyfleurs @elsbunny222 @sevsbimbo @amiorca @alittlextrahoney @gato-chino @topiatwin @r3wbeef @elliesatchel @muthafuckingstargirl

[such-expensive-mistakes]

Superpham AU (part 6)

Masterpost

Lois prides herself at being good at rolling with the unexpected. Unfortunately, all of her experience with aliens and supervillains and magic has not prepared her for Danny.

Danny has a disconcerting habit of dropping disturbing or traumatizing information in an off-hand way, seeming to not even realize the implications of his own words. It started with what he said about the dimension he'd grown up in discriminating against people with powers, then with what he'd said about the red son and the lack of superheroes, but it just keeps happening.

Lois tries not to call attention to it, because she prefers it to the alternative, which is Danny shutting himself up in his room and refusing to talk to any of them.

Lex Luthor is on the nightly news-- as he so often is-- and Lois has to explain the man's many crimes to Danny. (No, Jon, it is not a rant.)

"Oh," Danny says. "He sounds like Vlad."

"Vlad?" Lois asks.

"Yeah, Vlad Masters. He's my godfather. He's a total fruitloop who wanted to marry my mom and make me his son."

Lois carefully does not react. She wants Danny to tell her things. She wants to know what his life was like when she wasn't in it. "That sounds..."

"Yeah, he tried to clone me. Well, I guess he succeeded, but none of them were stable except for Ellie, and she wasn't really that stable to begin with."

"Ellie?"

"Yeah, short for Danielle. She went by Dani-with-an-I for a while, but she decided she wanted her own name."

That is not the part Lois was looking for clarification on. She goes with it anyway. "Tell me about her," Lois says, and tries not to be concerned about Danny’s descriptions of a teenage girl who apparently lives and travels on her own because she doesn't like to be stuck in one place. Ellie doesn't even get the full benefit of being quarter Kryptonian, living in a world with a red sun.

The four of them are sitting down to dinner-- pizza again; one of them should probably cook sometime this week, but Lois and Clark are both on deadlines-- when Clark asks Danny more about his adoptive family, the ones he grew up with.

He looks sad, the way he always does whenever his adoptive parents come up.   Lois can hardly blame him, when he lost them in such a sudden and traumatic way.  

"They're scientists," Danny says.  "Or they were.  They studied, um, the Ghost Zone and the things that live there.  They didn't really understand it at first-- they thought all the-- um, everything from there was evil and needed to be killed, but they learned they were wrong eventually."

Lois meets Clark's eyes and knows he is as concerned about what happened before that 'eventually' as she is.  Still, neither of them comment, not wanting Danny to clam up again..

Jon, however, has no such reservations.  "That's really messed up."

Danny shrugs.  "Yeah, kind of.  They came around, though.  And I think they blamed themselves for how bad the GIW got because they were the ones who designed the weapons."

"The GIW?" Lois asks, instead of what she really wants to know, which is: Your adoptive parents designed weapons to be used against beings from another dimension??? Did they know what you were? 

"Guys in White," Danny says.  "I don't think that was their real name, but they were from the government."

"Your parents built weapons for them?" Clark asks, his tone deceptively light.  "I thought they were scientists."

"They dabbled in a lot of things.  But they were fantastic engineers."  Danny segues into a story about some of the modifications his adoptive parents made to their car, which is a topic only slightly better for Lois's heart.

Later that night, Lois is sitting in bed, checking her emails on her phone, when Clark sits down next to her and turns on the white noise machine they keep on the nightstand.  (It's the only way to have private conversations when your child-- children-- have super-hearing.)

"I'm concerned about Danny," he says.

"No shit."  The more Danny tells them about the dimension he grew up in, the more Lois hates it.  "But there's nothing we can do now except be there for him."

"I know people who have traveled across dimensions, you know," Clark says.  "I could always ask for a favor."

"You won't," Lois says.  "Because if you do, I'm going to end up committing felonies in another dimension."  

Clark smiles humorlessly. "What makes you think I wouldn't be there with you?"

"Because you're a better person than I am."  Clark never believes her when she says that, but it's true.  Clark is a fundamentally good person.  Lois tries to be a good person, but there's a reason she's not a superhero.  

-----

Kon intended to stop by Metropolis several days ago.  Or at least call Clark back.  But he’d gotten sidetracked by an earthquake in Southeast Asia, and then by Dr Light causing problems in California.  

He gets a few hours of sleep back in Smallville, then remembers that he’d planned on dropping by Metropolis and meeting Danny days before.  He walks the last few blocks to Lois and Clark’s house— flying would be way too noticeable in their neighborhood— and lets himself in.  He walks up to the living room and spots Lois there, furiously typing on her laptop.  

Kon is man enough to admit, at least within his own head, that Lois kind of intimidates him. Sure, Clark is physically stronger, but there’s an intensity to Lois that Clark lacks.  She glances up at Kon, and even though she’s smiling, he still feels pinned under her gaze.  

Kon shifts uncomfortably, reminds himself that unless he turns into a corrupt businessman or something, he’s not actually in danger from Lois Lane.  

“You here to see Danny?” she asks.

“Yeah.”  Kon shoves his hands in his jacket pockets.  “I figured I should probably meet him.”

“He’s in his room,” Lois says.  “He’s not… It’s not a good day, but maybe he’ll talk to you.  He hasn’t exactly gotten the chance to be around anyone his own age since he showed up.”

Kon knocks on the door to Danny’s room.  

“Come in,” a voice calls from inside.

Kon’s first thought is that he looks more like Clark than Danny does.  Stupid; of course he does.  He’s Clark’s clone.  But then, Jon resembles Clark almost as strongly as Kon does, so maybe it wasn’t a completely stupid thought.

Danny is sprawled on his stomach across his bed, phone in his hand.  There’s a video playing on it— someone talking about the history of the Justice League— but he’s ignoring it, watching Kon with a wary expression.  The room is still as bland as it ever was; other than the clothes tossed haphazardly on the floor, there’s no sign a teenage boy lives here.

“I’m guessing you’re Kon?” 

“That’s me.”  They stare at each other awkwardly for a moment.  

“Have you actually seen any of Metropolis, or have you just been hanging out in here?” Kon asks.

“Lois took me shopping for some stuff,” Danny says.

“Okay, no,” Kon says.  “You have got to get out of this house.”  

“You don’t even live in Metropolis,” Danny says.  

Kon shrugs. “Doesn’t matter; I’ve spent more time here than you.” There’s an old-school arcade he’s been to a handful of times, and a couple of places to eat.  Anything has got to be better than Danny hanging out and brooding in this sad bedroom by himself.

It's a warm day outside.  The sun shines down on the two of them as they walk in near-silence toward downtown.  The awkward silence doesn't quite break until they're at the arcade, competing on an old racing game.  

"I don't think we have this one in my dimension.  The other dimension.  Whatever."  Danny says.

"Yeah?"  Kon speeds ahead of Danny in the game, just in time to cross the finish line.  Danny groans.

"Yeah, but this world doesn't seem to have Doomed, either," Danny says as they start another race.  "There's a lot of little differences like that."

"That's gotta be weird," Kon says.  

"Yeah, Clark kind of freaked out when I told him the sun there was red."

Yeah, Kon can see why.  They talk more as they play more video games, and Danny tells Kon about his friends and what they'd do when they were hanging out in his hometown of Amity Park.  The main people he talks about are his best friends, Sam and Tucker, and his older sister, Jazz, but he mentions a few others.  

"Wait, who is Ellie again?" Kon asks, after Danny shares a story about a prank she pulled on another kid at Danny's school.  They've left the arcade, and are hanging out at the diner a few blocks away.  It's not the coolest place-- in fact, it looks like a grandmother decorated it-- but Clark introduced Kon to it, and it has great food.

"Oh, I didn't tell you?" Danny asks.  "She's my clone."

Kon chokes a little on his soda.  "You have a clone?"

-----

Danny is probably being paranoid.

Scratch that, he's definitely being paranoid. Lois and Clark have been nothing but nice, and they're clearly used to weird things happening. Like, even aside from the whole alien superhero thing, Lois just saw a kid fall out of a portal and decided to help?  Plus, Clark is an actual superhero.  

Even his— the Fentons came around on the whole “ghost powers” thing.  Eventually.  But he’s gotten used to hiding, to trying to blend in.  

(And what had them accepting him done for them in the end?  They’re dead, the GIW killed them.)

He’d rather hide than suddenly discover that Lois and Clark aren’t cool with their long-lost son being half dead.

Some of his powers he can pass off as Kryptonian— super strength, flight, enhanced senses.  He knows Lois saw his ghost form, and though she hasn’t asked about it, he’s pretty sure it’s just a matter of time.  

These thoughts circle through his mind over and over, only leaving him temporarily when he’s hanging out with the Lane-Kents.  

His bio family.  

That’s not much better, though; there’s a sadness in Lois and Clark’s eyes whenever they look at him, although they try to hide it.  Jon just a kid, and clearly doesn’t know what to make of the whole situation.  Lois keeps saying they are going to introduce him to more people, especially people his own age, but Danny shies away from that.  He doesn’t want to meet more people.  He doesn’t want to get comfortable here.

Still, he’s glad he came out with Kon.  An afternoon of videogames and greasy food hasn’t solved any of his problems, but it’s a nice break, and Kon has already promised to introduce Danny to his friends— a whole team of teenage superheroes.

“I can’t get over how many heroes there are here,” Danny says.  “Like, why do you even need that many?”  Sure, it would have been nice to have some more backup when he was Phantom, but in this world there seems to be at least one superhero for every major city, plus some extra.

Kon shrugs. “Natural disasters, alien invasions, supervillains, street crime… No one can handle all of it.”

Out of all the things he’s encountered so far in this dimension, this might be Danny’s favorite.  Even more than the proven existence of aliens.  Back home, Amity Park needed Phantom, even if they hated him.  But the world here doesn’t need Phantom.  

It’s kind of freeing, and Danny hates it.  He doesn’t want to like anything about this dimension more than his own.  

Would it really be that bad?  You might be stuck here forever, a little voice inside his head whispers.  

He ignores it.

[chaengluva]

X Games

Ellie Williams X Reader, squid game au!

Red Light, Green Light - Prologue/Part 1/Part 2/Part 3...

So there will be more parts to this then i intended, + lmk if you wanted to be added to the taglist :)

I am using aud for this to make it less confusing, example 

45.5 billion won = 50.2 million aud

908 won = 1 aud 

--

Life had a way of kicking you when you were down. Missing your train after running for it at full speed—your chest heaving, your legs burning, and your bag nearly slipping from your shoulder—was just the cherry on top of a week that couldn’t get any worse.

You stood there, watching the train vanish into the darkness of the tunnel, the doors snapping shut just before you reached them. The people inside didn’t even bother hiding their judgmental stares. You slumped onto a bench nearby, dropping your bag on the ground and pressing your face into your hands.

It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment everything started going wrong. For a while, you thought life had handed you a string of bad luck. But deep down, you knew better. It all came back to Ellie.

You loved her, maybe more than you should have. Ellie had been your anchor, the one constant in your life when everything else felt chaotic. For years, it was just the two of you, and you thought nothing could come between you. The way she’d hold your hand in public, run her fingers through your hair at night, or whisper about all the places she wanted to take you someday—it was the kind of love you thought could last forever.

But love wasn’t enough to compete with gambling.

It started small. A trip to a casino during a weekend getaway. She laughed about how she’d almost won the jackpot, brushing off your concerns with a casual “It’s just for fun.” You didn’t think much of it. Everyone deserves a little fun, right? But then the nights at the casino became more frequent. The “fun” turned into hours spent staring at slot machines, betting on cards, and chasing losses she’d never recover.

When her money ran out, she turned to you. At first, it was fifty dollars here and there. “Just to get me through the week,” she’d say, flashing that smile you loved so much. But it wasn’t long before she stopped asking and just took what she needed.

You begged her to stop. You pleaded, cried, shouted—but nothing worked. The nights got longer. Sometimes, she wouldn’t come home until early morning, and when she did, she smelled like cigarettes and cheap alcohol. You told yourself you could fix her, that if you loved her enough, she’d change.

Then came the day she sat you down and told you, with a straight face, that she was fifty thousand dollars in debt. She looked at you like you were supposed to fix it. Like it was your problem to solve. That was the moment you realized you couldn’t save her.

You broke up with her on the spot.

She begged you to stay, swore she’d change, but you didn’t believe her anymore. You walked away, thinking you were free of her. But what you didn’t realize was that her addiction had planted a seed in you.

The first time you gambled, it was out of spite. You wanted to prove to yourself that you weren’t like her, that you could stop anytime you wanted. But gambling has a way of digging its claws into you. It only took a few weeks for you to spiral into debt yourself. Twenty thousand dollars gone, with no way to pay it back.

Now, you were here, sitting on a cold bench at a train station, your cheek pressed into your hands as you counted down the minutes until the next train. Forty-five minutes felt like an eternity.

The bench shifted slightly as someone sat down beside you. You didn’t bother looking up. The station was always busy.

Then you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You flinched, startled, and turned to see a man sitting next to you. He was sharply dressed in a dark suit, his hair neatly combed, and a briefcase resting on his lap. He didn’t look like he belonged here.

“Hello,” he said with a small smile.

You stared at him, unsure how to respond. Something about him felt… off.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked.

You hesitated but nodded. You didn’t have anything better to do.

He opened the briefcase, revealing two coloured cards—red and blue. You recognized the game immediately: ddakji.

“I’d like to play a game with you,” he said. His voice was calm, almost soothing, but there was something unnerving about the way he smiled.

“What kind of game?” you asked, your voice wary.

“It’s simple. If you can flip my card with yours, I’ll give you one hundred and ten dollars. If I flip yours, you’ll owe me the same amount.”

You frowned. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

It sounded too good to be true. You hesitated, but the thought of winning easy money was tempting.

“And if I lose?”

He tilted his head slightly, his smile widening. “You could use your body to pay.”

Your stomach dropped.

“What the fuck?” you hissed, standing abruptly.

“Relax,” he said, his tone unbothered. “I’ll deduct one hundred and ten dollars with every slap instead.”

Your hand instinctively went to your cheek, but you didn’t walk away. Against your better judgment, you sat back down. The man’s calm confidence was unnerving, but desperation clouded your instincts.

You picked the blue card, threw it down, and missed.

He smirked, picked up the red card, and flipped it effortlessly. Before you could even react, his hand came down hard on your cheek. The sting was sharp, and tears sprang to your eyes, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Another round?”

You lost again. And again. Each slap was harder than the last, until your face was red and numb. By the time you finally won a round, you were too stunned to even celebrate. He handed you the money, his smile never faltering.

“You know,” he said, pulling a small black card from his pocket, “there are other games where you can make even more money.”

He held the card out to you, and you hesitated before taking it. A circle, triangle, and square were printed on it.

“What is this?” you asked.

“Ms [name] [last name], 22 years old. You attended [school name] earlier this month, you broke up with your long term girlfriend which led to you 20k in debt, owing it all to the bank. Straight after work today, you spent your whole check and lost everything” He said, without taking a breath. “How do you know all that? Have you been stalking me?” You asked, his eyes moved down to the card in your hand, then said “Think about it.”

You stared at the card in your hand, your heart pounding. By the time your train arrived, you’d already made up your mind.

When you got home, you held the card in front of you, dialing the number printed on it.

“If you wish to participate,” a voice on the other end said, “state your name and birthdate.”

You hesitated, but only for a moment. “(Name), (Birthdate).”

They told you where to meet and gave you a password.

At exactly eleven p.m., you stood shivering at the meeting point, hugging yourself for warmth. The winter air was unforgiving, sharp gusts of wind biting at your exposed skin. Your jacket, barely thick enough for the season, clung to you uselessly, soaked through from the relentless rain. Water dripped from your hair, running down your face in cold rivulets, and your jeans were plastered to your legs, heavy and uncomfortable. You didn’t even bother to wipe your face anymore—what was the point?

The street around you was eerily quiet, save for the occasional squelch of your wet shoes shifting in the puddle beneath you. You checked the card in your hand for the hundredth time, your fingers trembling from both the chill and nerves. You glanced down the empty road, half-expecting this whole thing to be a cruel joke.

Just as doubt began to creep in, you heard the low hum of an engine. A gray van emerged from the darkness, its headlights piercing through the sheets of rain. It slowed to a stop in front of you, the tires splashing water onto the curb.

The door slid open with a sharp metallic sound, and a figure stepped out. He wore a bright pink jumpsuit and a mask that completely obscured his face, his presence looming and unnervingly calm. He stood stiffly, the rain pooling on his shoulders and sliding down his uniform like he wasn’t even human.

“Password?” he asked, his voice muffled and emotionless.

You swallowed hard, your breath visible in the frigid air. “Red Light, Green Light,” you said, your voice trembling slightly.

The pink-masked guard stepped aside without a word, motioning for you to enter. You hesitated for a moment, your stomach twisting in knots, but the freezing rain and the weight of your debt left you with little choice. Taking a deep breath, you climbed into the van.

Inside, the atmosphere was unsettling. The dim light revealed rows of passengers slumped in their seats, heads tilted awkwardly to the side, completely unconscious. Their breaths came slow and steady, fogging up the cold windows.

You forced out a nervous laugh, your voice breaking the heavy silence. “Looks like everyone was pretty tired,” you muttered, hoping for some kind of reaction.

The driver didn’t respond, nor did the guard who slid the door shut behind you with a final, echoing thud.

Moments later, you noticed the faint hiss of gas filling the van. Panic seized you as the air grew thick, your breaths becoming labored. Your limbs feel heavy, and your vision blurred.

The last thing you remembered was the soft hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of the rain as everything went dark.

You woke up to the soft hum of classical music, the delicate notes contrasting harshly with the sharp, fluorescent lights that flooded the room. Blinking rapidly, you tried to orient yourself, your head throbbing from whatever gas had knocked you out. As your eyes adjusted, the room came into focus—a vast dormitory with rows upon rows of bunk beds stacked high, filled with people.

To your right, someone sat on the edge of their bed, staring blankly ahead, wearing a green tracksuit with a number stitched onto the right side. You squinted at it—217. Turning to your left, another person in the same tracksuit sat rubbing their temples, their number reading 042. Confusion washed over you, and you instinctively glanced down at yourself.

Your breath caught when you saw the number stitched onto your own green jacket. 349.

Before you could even process what was happening, the room began to stir. People shuffled off their beds, stretching, yawning, and muttering amongst themselves. A loud commotion drew your attention to the center of the room, where two people were now yelling at each other.

A man with a snake tattoo curling up his neck—101—stood over a woman with sharp features and short hair—067. His voice was sharp, accusatory. “You think I don’t know what you did? You little thief!”

The woman didn’t back down, glaring at him with cold defiance. “I don’t owe you a damn thing,” she snapped back.

The tension was palpable, the entire room falling silent as the argument escalated. You wanted to help her, to say something, but fear kept you glued to your spot on the stairs. The last thing you wanted was to get involved and end up a target yourself.

Suddenly, another man—456—rushed into the fray, grabbing 067 by the arm and pleading desperately. “Where’s my money? You promised me you’d pay me back!”

Before she could respond, 101 shoved 456, his voice rising to a threatening growl. “Back off, old man. She’s my problem!” He raised a fist, clearly ready to strike, but before the punch could land, the sound of heavy boots echoed through the room.

The pink-suited guards entered in perfect formation, their presence immediately silencing the chaos. Everyone tensed, the air thick with unease.

A man in a pink suit, distinguished by the square on his mask, stepped forward. His voice was cold and mechanical, amplified by a speaker. “I would like to extend a heartfelt welcome to you all. Everyone here will participate in six different games over six days. Those who win all six games will receive a handsome cash prize.”

Murmurs spread through the crowd, disbelief and suspicion painted on everyone’s faces. “What is this, some kind of joke?” someone shouted. Others began to protest, demanding answers about their belongings and questioning how they’d been brought here.

In response, the guard gestured toward the massive screen on the wall. It flickered to life, displaying a montage of footage. You froze as images of the pink-suited man slapping various people appeared, each name and debt amount displayed on-screen.

You held your breath as your own face came up on the screen: [Name, Last Name], $20,000 in debt. You shrank back, trying to avoid drawing attention to yourself, your cheeks burning with humiliation.

But then, the next face appeared. You froze. Ellie Williams, $100,000 in debt.

Your stomach churned as memories of your ex flooded back. You rolled your eyes, scanning the room, but she was nowhere in sight. Maybe she hadn’t made it. Or maybe she was hiding just as you were.

The guards handed out consent forms, instructing everyone to read and sign. You grabbed yours hesitantly, scanning the terms carefully. The rules were strict and unyielding, but what choice did you have? You considered signing with a fake name but quickly dismissed the idea. They already knew everything about you. There was no escaping this. With a heavy heart, you scribbled your name on the dotted line.

Afterward, the group was led into a brightly coloured hallway. The walls were painted in vibrant, almost childlike hues, reminiscent of a playground. Spiral staircases twisted upward, and the floor was a checkerboard of cheerful pastels. The oddity of the setting unsettled you—why did it feel so playful yet so foreboding?

As you walked, the line came to a halt at a small station with a camera mounted on a stand. A robotic voice from the machine chirped, “Smile.”

Caught off guard, you hesitated before forcing an awkward smile. The camera clicked, capturing your face before the line moved forward. You fell in step with the others, glancing back at the machine. Your unease grew with every step.

Eventually, the guards led you through a set of double doors and into a massive, open field. The floor was covered in artificial grass, and at the far end stood a giant, childlike doll with an eerie, painted face. The walls were painted to resemble a sunny sky and a peaceful meadow, but the air was heavy with dread.

“This first game will be Red Light, Green Light. You are allowed to move when ‘it’ calls out ‘green light’ and must stop immediately when ‘it’ calls out ‘red light.’ If your movement is detected afterwards, you will be eliminated,” a calm, mechanical female voice announced over the speakers.

The word "eliminated" lingered in your mind, unsettlingly vague yet heavy with implication.

“Red Light, Green Light? Seriously?” you muttered under your breath, trying to keep your nerves from taking over. The absurdity of it all was almost laughable—until you felt the suffocating weight of the situation bearing down on you.

“[Name]!” a voice called out, sharp and familiar. Your heart dropped at the sound, your body stiffening instinctively. You turned your head slightly, hoping you were mistaken, but the voice grew closer, more insistent.

“[Name]!”

Before you could move away, a hand gripped your wrist tightly, and your stomach sank. You turned to face her. Ellie Williams.

Her eyes glinted with a mix of surprise and amusement, her crooked smirk only making your stomach churn. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her tone carrying a hint of laughter. “You’re in debt now, huh?”

“Get off me,” you snapped, pulling your wrist free from her grip.

“Guess we’ve got more in common now, huh?” she teased, her giggle low and careless, like none of this mattered to her.

You groaned and stepped away from her, trying to put some distance between you both as the doll suddenly came to life, its massive head swivelling toward the group.

“Green light!”

The moment the doll spoke, the crowd hesitated. No one wanted to be the first to move. But as the silence stretched on, a few brave players began to shuffle forward cautiously, their footsteps soft and deliberate. You took a deep breath and moved, each step feeling heavier than the last.

“Red light!”

The doll’s head spun around, its eyes scanning the crowd. You froze in place, holding your breath. The room was eerily silent—until a loud mechanical sound echoed, followed by a calm announcement.

“Player 343, eliminated.”

Your heart dropped as you heard a loud bang reverberate through the space, followed by a sharp scream. Your eyes darted to the source of the noise and immediately widened. A man crumpled to the ground, blood pooling around his lifeless body.

The realization hit like a punch to the gut. “Eliminated” didn’t mean disqualified. It meant dead.

A wave of panic rippled through the room. Someone screamed, and suddenly, chaos erupted. Players broke into a mad sprint toward the finish line, ignoring the game’s rules entirely.

The doll’s head swivelled violently, locking onto the runners. Bang. Bang. Bang. Each shot rang louder than the last, bodies dropping one after another.

You stood frozen, your body trembling. Your ears rang, your mind screamed at you to run, but your legs felt like lead.

“[Name], move!” Ellie’s voice snapped you out of your daze as the doll called, “Green light.”

You forced yourself to walk, each step shaky and uncertain. The path ahead felt endless, every second stretching into an eternity.

“Red light!”

You froze mid-step, your arms stiff at your sides. Someone next to you wobbled, their balance faltering. You didn’t dare to turn your head to look, but the sound of another gunshot told you they hadn’t made it.

The carnage around you was unbearable. People sobbed, begged, and screamed, but the doll was unrelenting. Each misstep was met with swift and brutal punishment.

When the doll called “Green light” again, you forced yourself to walk faster, keeping your head low and your focus sharp. Suddenly, your foot caught on something—a body. You stumbled, your arms flailing as you teetered on the brink of falling.

A strong hand grabbed your arm, steadying you before you hit the ground. “I’ve got you,” Ellie whispered, her voice surprisingly soft.

You looked at her, stunned, but she didn’t let go. “Come on,” she said firmly, pulling you forward.

The two of you moved together, her grip on your arm grounding you as you navigated the chaos. The doll’s mechanical voice called out “Red light” and “Green light” over and over, each cycle feeling like a lifetime.

With the finish line in sight, your legs burned, your lungs ached, but you refused to stop. Ellie’s grip tightened as the doll called out its final “Red light.” You both froze, standing just feet away from the line.

You could hear the cries of those who hadn’t made it, the gunshots ringing out like a grim metronome. You closed your eyes, waiting for the doll to speak again.

“Green light!”

Together, you and Ellie crossed the line, your knees nearly giving out as soon as you were on the other side. The moment you were safe, Ellie let go of your arm, stepping away as if nothing had happened.

You turned to look at her, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. 

Around you, the field was littered with bodies. The vibrant, childlike setting felt grotesque now, the bright colours clashing violently with the blood and horror.

The guards began to collect the bodies methodically, as if it were just another part of the game. You looked down at your shaking hands, the reality of what you’d just survived settling in your chest like a heavy weight.

-

Hope you guys like it so far

Taglist: @vahnilla @radioheadfan699 @defnoteleonor @robinphobia @liztreez @deathbydollz @hemmo01 @soodle-noup @reneesub @ellensmithxo @lamorenita @kissedberries @liasxeatt @smiths-fan--13 @0phantom0 @ellieslittleslutt @aliceellieswife @mrpeanitsbutter @asothinking

[tthoroughfare]

kerosene (part 3) // ellie williams

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: the one where it's her birthday.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: jackson!ellie x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: sfw. joel likes dad rock (of course) and so do you! (a little)

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 0.5k

this is part three of this series! find part one here

fun fact the stereophonics reference in this is all my dad's fault! when i was 13 we went on a roadtrip together and the only CD in his car was the graffiti on a train album because he forgot to bring any other music, so we just listened to it over and over. i was listening to that album for the first time as an adult around the same time i wrote this and just thought it was very joel and ellie of us... maybe she'd appreciate it. idk. anyway

after that, you get a lot closer again. even more so than before — although, it’s rare that you’re actually alone. you’re not sure if you’re thankful for it, or hate it. you tend to pass your time with jesse and dina, the foursome that temporarily drifted back in full swing.

it’s a lot of hanging out aimlessly, listening to music, watching movies — you spend most of your free time together, and it’s nice. you feel grateful for the friends you have, that in this fucked up world you ended up in relative safety, surrounded by people you genuinely get along with.

however, it also complicates things. while you love that you and ellie are closer than ever, you hate how much it makes your feelings develop. you feel like there’s more at stake, now. if you were to tell her how you feel and it wasn’t mutual, you don’t even want to think how it would mess up your friendship. mess the group up.

so, you keep it to yourself. you go through the motions: spending time together, trying not to read into every little thing. trying not to let your eyes linger on her. trying not to sit too close to her, or laugh too hard at her shitty fucking jokes.

for her birthday, you make her a mixtape. you try and act nonchalant about it, but don’t tell anyone the way you painstakingly went through your entire music collection, imagining ellie listening to it, picking out the songs you think she’d like the most. all in all, it takes you a good while to put together. you make a cover for it, too, covered in little doodles, ‘for ellie :)’ written in the middle.

you get shy giving it to her. it’s later on in the day, and several of you are having a small gathering for the occasion. you pass it over with a coy smile, reveling in the way her face lights up once she realizes what it is.

“wait, what the fuck?” she asks with a grin, turning the tape around to look at the tracklist you’d written out.

“i tried to pick stuff i thought you’d listen to,” you comment, flitting your eyes between ellie and your present, hand nervously coming up to scratch at your neck.

“dude, this is… so cool. seriously. this is the best gift ever.”

you shrug, meeting her eyes for a second with a warm smile, watching as jesse picks the tape from ellie’s fingers, studying the cover before showing it to dina. the two of them let out teasing awws, making your cheeks burn even more. the way that dina looks at you feels almost knowing.

it gets passed around the room, you wanting to sink into the floor at the way you feel a small spectacle is being made.

you take note of the way joel smiles lopsidedly at the doodled cover, saying, “that’s a good one,” tapping the title of a stereophonics song you’d included.

ellie stands up, snatching the tape back with a chuckle before sitting down and looking over the cover again herself, a content expression on her face. she looks over at you, meeting your eyes with a genuine smile. 

“thank you,” she says, holding the gift up. “this is… this is so awesome of you.”

your smile widens, and you can practically feel the affection in your gaze. you know you need to tone it down, but you don’t really care. “don't mention it.”

[daryltwdixon]

Summary: Still trekking through the wilderness, a tense confrontation unexpectedly leads you to what you’ve been searching for all along: Joel’s brother, Tommy.

nice long boy for you guys tonight x

You’re up early the next morning. For a moment, the world is still caught in that delicate balance between night and day, the dim light of dawn casting long shadows across the rocky terrain. The air is cold enough to nip at your fingers, seeping through the threads of your gloves as they clutch the rifle to your front.

Joel had insisted on taking both first and second watch, his gruff tone leaving no room for argument last night. Yet here he is, sound asleep, his pack serving as a makeshift pillow. His jacket is wrapped tight around him, the faded fabric rising and falling with the slow, steady rhythm of his breaths.

You’d woken to the sound of a particularly loud snore—one that startled you at first, then made you smile. Turning your head, you’d found him there, his face slack with exhaustion, lines of tension erased in sleep. For a moment, he looked peaceful, the hardness he wore during waking hours softened by the quiet vulnerability of rest.

He needed it. The man had been running on fumes for weeks, stealing snatches of sleep when he could, always on edge, always alert. You’d seen it in the tightness of his shoulders, the way his hand hovered near his weapon even when he wasn’t in immediate danger. Joel carries everything: the responsibility, the danger, the weight of every decision made on this brutal landscape.

You’d decided, in that moment, not to wake him. Instead, you’d taken his place on watch, quietly slipping into the role as he continued to sleep. It wasn’t much, but it was something you could do—for him, for the group.

You glance back, watching as he jolts awake now, his hand instinctively reaching for the weapon at his side. His eyes dart around, wide and alert, before landing on you. For a moment, he looked disoriented, the haze of sleep still clinging to him.

“Easy, easy,” you say softly, turning your attention back to the horizon. “You were asleep. I woke up early.”

His voice is rough when he answers, still thick with sleep. “You gotta wake me up if that happens.”

“No, I don’t.” A smile curls under the scarf he’d insisted you wear, the fabric muffling your words. “You needed the sleep.”

He lets out a sharp breath, the sound carrying a mix of irritation and something else you can’t quite place. “I’m responsible for you.”

“In what world?” you tease, tilting your head to glance at him. “You’re responsible for that girl. I can handle myself.”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think you’ve overstepped. But then his shoulders ease, the irritation melting into something quieter.

“You wake me next time,” he says, softer now, his voice carrying an edge of insistence. His brows furrow as he looks at you, but there’s a gentleness there too, a quiet concern as his gaze lingers.

“Yes, sir,” you reply with mock formality, enunciating each syllable, your eyes steady on his.

His lips press together, but the huff he lets out betrays him, the corners of his mouth twitching like he wants to laugh despite himself. Before he can respond, Ellie appears, jogging up from the tree line, her breath puffing in the cold morning air.

“Think I spotted some rabbits out there,” she says, slightly out of breath. “Maybe we can catch them on our way.”

Joel turns to you, his brow arching in incredulity.

“She was fine,” you say preemptively, shrugging. “I could see her the whole time.”

He sighs, his jaw tightening briefly, but it’s clear he realizes he isn’t going to win an argument with her. Instead, he turns back to Ellie, muttering, “Grab your stuff. We’re moving out soon.”

“Damn.”

“Well, you’re no Will Livingston,” you mutter to Ellie, referring to her favorite pun book that she carries and often torments you with for hours on end. Your breath mists in the frigid air as you stand at the edge of a steep drop-off. The wind bites at your cheeks and tugs at your scarf while the three of you look down into a massive dam. The structure looms large and gray, weathered by time but still holding firm against the rushing water below.

The river churns and roars beneath you, the dam clearly still in working order, its turbines likely humming somewhere deep inside.

“So that made electricity?” Ellie asks, turning to you with curiosity in her eyes.

You shrug. “Don’t ask me.”

Both of you look to Joel, his profile silhouetted against the pale winter sky. He stares down at the water. After a beat, he turns away with a small shake of his head. “Yeah. Don’t ask me either—I don’t have a clue.”

Ellie huffs and rolls her eyes. “Coulda made somethin’ up,” she says with a shrug. “I woulda believed you.”

You smirk, watching as Joel shoots her a fleeting glance, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before it disappears.

The three of you begin walking again, following the dam’s edge. The icy wind carries the sharp smell of snow and water, and every so often, you hear the faint groan of metal under pressure as the dam does its work.

“Hey…” you say after a moment, your voice cutting through the steady crunch of boots on snow. “What if… this is that ‘River of Death’ those people were talking about?”

Joel’s steps falter, his body pausing mid-stride as your words hang in the air. He turns his gaze to the water, his brow furrowing as if weighing the possibility. For a long minute, he stands there, hand resting on his rifle strap, his breath coming out in slow, visible puffs.

Then, without a word, he extends his hand toward you.

“Map.”

You blink, quickly withdrawing the map from your coat pocket and handing it over. He unfolds it, spreading it flat against his thigh as the three of you gather close.

Joel traces the lines with his finger, muttering something under his breath as he tries to orient himself. Ellie leans in beside him, her breath warm against your shoulder as she peers at the map. You glance at the horizon, scanning for landmarks to compare against the paper.

None of you notice the sound at first—the faint rhythm of hooves against snow, muffled by the roar of the river. It isn’t until it grows louder, accompanied by the distant jingle of bridles and the low snort of horses, that the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

“Joel…” you say, your voice low, a warning.

His head snaps up, his entire posture shifting from contemplative to alert. His hand drops to his rifle instinctively, and he turns toward the sound just as the riders crest the ridge behind you.

The sun catches on their weapons, the glint of steel unmistakable, and a cold dread settles in your stomach as they begin to close the distance.

“Get behind me,” Joel says softly, his voice sharp and commanding. His free hand moves to grab yours, pulling you behind him with a firm tug. Without thinking, you grab Ellie’s hand, pulling her beside you as the three of you huddle together.

There are at least a dozen of them, all on horseback, their weapons trained on you. Their faces are hard, unreadable under ski masks that cover their jaws and mouths, but their intent is clear. Joel releases your hand and his rifle simultaneously, his hands lifting in a slow, deliberate motion of surrender.

“We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble,” he says, his voice steady, though you can hear the tension beneath it. “We’re just passin’ through.”

“Guns on the ground,” the man in front orders, his voice carrying the weight of authority.

Joel nods once, glancing back at you briefly. His expression is calm, but his eyes hold a warning. You follow his lead, releasing the strap of your weapon and letting it drop to the ground beside his.

The man’s gaze shifts, locking onto you. Even from twenty feet away, you can feel the weight of his scrutiny.

“You,” he barks, his tone sharp, “Take five steps back. Without the girl.”

You swallow hard, the command clear and foreboding. Your feet feel rooted to the ground for a moment before you force them to move.

“How ‘bout we just talk this through?” Joel says, his voice careful but firm, trying to diffuse the situation.

“How ‘bout you shut the fuck up?” the man snaps, his gun still trained on you.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you whisper, but you’re not sure if its to reassure him or yourself. Your heart hammers in your chest as you take slow, deliberate steps backward. With every inch you move away, the absence of Joel’s broad frame at your side leaves you feeling exposed, vulnerable. The warmth of his presence, his protection, is gone, replaced by the biting cold and the weight of a dozen weapons pointed in your direction.

“You been near infected?” the man asks, his gun unwavering as he eyes you.

“No infected out here,” Joel answers quickly, his voice calm but tight.

“The hell there ain’t.” The man whistles sharply, and the sound is like a blade cutting through the air. From behind the group, a dog’s sharp barks erupt, and a handler steps forward with the animal straining against its leash.

“Last chance for a bullet,” the man says coldly. “If you’ve been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.”

Your blood turns to ice as the dog is let off its leash. The snarling barks grow louder, each one a dagger in your chest.

Ellie.

Ellie is infected but immune. The dog doesn’t know that. The man doesn’t know that. All you can see is her small frame being torn apart by this animal in your mind’s eye. The thought makes your vision blur, panic roaring in your ears.

The dog charges Joel first, its nose sniffing rapidly as it circles him. It pauses, standing on its hind legs to place its paws on his chest. For one terrible moment, you brace for the worst—but the animal lowers itself and moves on. Clearly a good sign.

“Now her,” the man says, pointing at you.

The dog approaches, its body tense, sniffing the air as it nears. You stand frozen, barely registering its movements. Your focus is on Ellie, your mind racing for a plan, a distraction, anything to protect her.

The dog sniffs you thoroughly, then places its paws on your front. It lowers itself again without incident. Relief floods through you, but it’s short-lived as it turns toward Ellie.

Jesus Christ. This is it. This is how it ends. After everything—after all the danger, the sacrifices, the miles traveled—Ellie is going to die here because of a dog.

Your breath catches in your throat as the dog reaches her, its nose working furiously. Joel’s body is stiff as a statue, his eyes wide, jaw clenched. You can’t even look at him anymore; all you can do is stare at Ellie, silently pleading for a miracle.

The dog rises onto its hind legs, paws pressing against Ellie’s chest. She freezes for a moment, then giggles softly, her hand reaching out to pet it.

The sound of her laughter breaks through the storm of panic in your head. The world tilts back onto its axis, breath flooding your lungs as if you’ve been drowning and finally breached the surface.

Joel’s gaze snaps to you, his eyes wide, mirroring your own disbelief. Both of you stand there, caught in the same stunned realization: What the fuck just happened?

“You just bought yourself ten more seconds,” the man says, his gun still trained on you. “What’re you doin’ out here?”

Joel exhales sharply, his voice strained but steady. “I’m just lookin’ for my brother.”

A woman on horseback steps forward, her eyes narrowing as she studies him. “What’s your name?”

“Joel,”

The large wooden gates swing open to the town of Jackson, Wyoming, with a loud creak and groan, the sound reverberating off the snow-dusted landscape. The group of riders surges forward, their horses’ hooves clattering against the icy ground as you enter.

It’s been years since you’ve ridden a horse, but the feeling of the mare beneath you is familiar, almost comforting. Her steady rhythm keeps you grounded as your eyes take in the small western town ahead. Ellie rides beside you, Joel just in front on his own horse, his posture stiff, his attention focused forward.

But then Joel slows, his horse coming to an abrupt halt. You pull the reins gently, bringing your mare to a stop beside his, curiosity flickering as you watch him.

His eyes are locked across the expanse of the town, fixed on a man standing near a crane, his frame outlined against the overcast sky. The man is clad in a sherpa-lined denim jacket, his hands busy as he works, unaware of the approaching group.

“Tommy!” Joel calls out, his voice cutting through the chill air.

Without hesitation, Joel swings off his horse, landing heavily on the frozen ground. You instinctively take hold of his reins, steadying the animal as Joel strides toward the man.

The man—Tommy—stops, turning toward Joel. For a moment, there’s stillness, the kind that feels like the world itself is holding its breath. Then Tommy’s face lights up, his smile broad and unmistakable beneath his dark curls.

“Joel,” he says, his voice carrying a mixture of disbelief and joy, and within seconds, the two brothers are embracing, their arms flying around each other.

You can’t help but watch the reunion, the way Joel’s usually guarded expression softens, the years of wear and loss momentarily falling away. Tommy’s joy is infectious, his energy almost boyish despite the rugged lines etched into his face.

For a fleeting moment, your gaze lingers on Tommy’s hair—dark, untouched by time—and you wonder if Joel’s had been the same shade twenty years ago. It’s hard to imagine now, his hair forever flecked with gray, a testament to years you can only guess at.

Their voices are muffled by the distance, their conversation lost in the murmur of the bustling town around you. Still, you can feel the weight of the moment, the way it tugs at something deep within Joel.

But then your eyes shift to Ellie. She’s watching too, but there’s something different in her gaze. Her brow is furrowed, her lips pressed tight, worry flickering in her expression.

“You okay?” you ask softly, but Ellie doesn’t answer right away.

Her eyes stay fixed on Joel and Tommy, her small hands gripping the reins a little too tightly. But then after a moment, her gaze flickers to you, her lips plastering on a small, very fake smile, “Yeah, yeah I’m good.”

IInside the dining hall, the warmth wraps around you like a heavy blanket. The room is expansive yet cozy, with vaulted wooden beams overhead and stone fireplaces crackling at either end. Soft, ambient light from rustic chandeliers hangs above long, polished tables, where families and groups laugh and talk over steaming plates of food. It smells of roasted chicken, baked bread, and something sweet lingering in the air—a world away from the bleakness you’ve known.

The three of you sit at a table laden with chicken, potatoes, and vegetables, steam curling into the air above your plates. You can’t help but savor every bite, the food warming your stomach in a way that feels almost healing.

“There’s more if you need it,” Maria says from across the table, her voice polite but tinged with a hint of watchfulness.

“Thank you, ma’am. It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper meal,” Joel replies, his tone respectful but reserved.

“Probably since we were at your place,” Ellie quips, glancing up at you for a fraction of a second before turning her attention back to her plate. “This is fuckin’ amazing.”

Joel exhales sharply, his brows knitting as he gives her a pointed look. “Ellie, let’s mind our manners.”

You catch Joel’s hesitation as he glances across the table at Tommy and Maria. Joel looks uneasy, his body stiff even in this moment of peace. Tommy sits beside you, a little too close for comfort, but the warm meal and the ambiance dull the edge of your usual discomfort.

But then Ellie’s attention snaps to something behind you, her eyes narrowing. “What?” she blurts out, her tone defensive.

“Hey,” you say sharply, twisting in your chair to glance behind you, seeing a girl run off. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Joel mutters low, his voice tight with irritation. 

“What about her manners?” Ellie snaps.

“El, relax,” you say, trying to calm her from across the table.

“She was just curious,” Maria interjects, her tone measured but firm. She sits beside Tommy at the head of the table, watching Ellie warily. “Kids around here don’t usually look or talk like you.”

You offer a polite smile, but Ellie remains stone-faced. “Right, well. Maybe I’ll teach them,” she says flatly.

You roll your eyes, sitting back in your chair. “Ellie.”

“What?” she snaps, glaring at you.

Something’s off. This isn’t about manners, and the tension in her shoulders tells you as much. You narrow your eyes at her but say nothing as Maria calmly reminds Ellie that no one is armed inside the premises.

“You know what?” Tommy says, his voice soft, breaking the awkward silence. “I think y’all got off on the wrong foot.”

“She was gonna have her guys kill us,” you mutter, wiping your mouth. A hint of sarcasm slips into your tone, earning you a reprimanding look from Joel.

“We gotta be careful about who we let in this place,” Tommy explains easily, his tone light but firm. “It’s all bark. We’re just tryin’ to scare off the ones who might wanna try us.”

“Well, you got a couple of ninety-year-olds shitting themselves out there,” Ellie deadpans, turning back to her plate.

“El,” you say, unable to suppress a laugh, though Joel looks exasperated. He shoots another apologetic glance toward Maria, who doesn’t seem fazed.

“They say you leave dead bodies around?” Ellie demands.

“Those are the people who tried us,” Maria explains evenly.

“A bad reputation doesn’t always mean you’re bad,” Tommy adds.

“Not always, at least,” Maria echoes softly, though her eyes linger on Joel.

Joel shifts in his seat, glancing around the room. “Look, ma’am, we appreciate your hospitality and all, but it’d be nice to maybe just have a moment here for family.”

You glance at Tommy, who shifts uncomfortably before reaching for Maria’s hand. “Well, uh… Maria is family, actually.”

“Congrats,” you mutter, sipping your water. When neither Joel nor Ellie echoes the sentiment, you shoot them both a pointed look. “Say congrats.”

“Congrats,” they both mumble in unison, their deadpan expressions earning a sigh from you.

Tommy offers a tour after dinner, and as you step outside into the cold night air, the town of Jackson opens up before you.

Even in winter, it’s breathtaking. The tall gates stand like sentinels, enclosing a community bustling with life. Beyond the walls, the snow-covered mountains stretch endlessly, their peaks catching the faint glow of moonlight. Within the gates, warm lights illuminate streets lined with cabins, livestock pens, and gardens. People move through the streets, tending to animals, carrying supplies, laughing, and talking.

It’s… beautiful. Too beautiful, almost. You’ve never seen anything like it in your life. Your home with Bill and Frank was merely a fraction of this.

You look around, taking in the crowds. The strangers. So many faces, so many voices, so many people all around you. The air begins to feel thinner, the noises becoming louder, pressing against your skull. Your breath quickens, your chest tightening as you try to process it all.

You fall a step behind the group, your eyes darting from person to person, trying to make sense of this overwhelming new reality. It’s not just the sheer number of people–well, maybe it is. But  it’s the fact that none of them are familiar. Not a single one.

You can hear the conversation around you, fragments of words filtering through the haze of your thoughts. Something about the dam being their source of electricity, about keeping off the radio, schools and a church, a commune. Three hundred people.

It feels like the ground is tilting beneath you.

You’re fine. You’ll be fine. But all you want is to get to a secluded space, somewhere quiet and still, away from the sea of strangers and the eyes that follow you as you pass.

The beauty of this place is undeniable—the snow-covered rooftops, the warm glow of lights spilling onto the streets, the sound of laughter and conversation echoing between the buildings. It’s a slice of life you’ve never known. But it comes with a cost. For someone like you, who’s lived in isolation for so long, the world suddenly feels too big, too loud, too alive.

“I’m sure you guys need a shower, some new clothes.” Maria says, and you finally tune in. A retreat, please, yes please.

“We can put them in the empty house across the street from us, “Maria continues, looking at Tommy. He nods, agreeing with her.

“I’m sure you guys need a shower, some new clothes,” Maria says, her voice pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts. You latch onto her words like a lifeline. A retreat. Please, yes, please.

“We can put them in the empty house across the street from us,” Maria continues, looking to Tommy. He nods, his agreement steady and matter-of-fact.

“Well, I’ll take Ellie and her over there if you two wanna catch up,” Maria offers.

“Joel,” Ellie says sharply through her teeth, her eyes widening as she looks at him.

“You’ll be fine,” Joel replies, his voice calm but firm. But his gaze shifts to you, lingering. There’s something in his expression, a question, maybe even concern.

You nod, trying to appear steady, even as your hands tighten around the strap of your bag.

Joel looks like he’s about to say something—maybe ask if you’re okay—but Tommy’s voice calls his name from a few feet away, breaking the moment.

“Shall we?” Maria asks, her tone kind but brisk as Joel turns his head.

“Yeah,” you manage to say, the word barely leaving your throat before you reach for Ellie, pulling her along beside you.

[everydayyoulovemeless]

FO4 companions attempting to give Sole a haircut but they fuck it up really bad? I just got back from a horrible hairdresser visit and I need the cope

Fo4 Companions Accidentally Giving Sole A Bad Haircut

➼ Word Count » 0.8k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Platonic/Romantic, Hurt/Comfort? ➼ A/N » It's been a few months since you've requested this so I'm praying you're feeling better now!

You know MacCready messed something up when he begins chuckling nervously, rests a shaky hand on your shoulder, and starts talking way more than usual. He tries to stall you looking in the mirror for as long as possible but, when you eventually do, he’s biting his fist in awkwardness. He won’t lie, this is not his best work, but he never promised perfection. Nevertheless, he feels awful for what he’s done and will let you wear his hat to cover it until it grows back.

Nick will tell you flat out when he messes it up. He'll sigh apologetically, saying he should've just waited to have Ellie cut it or, I don't know, taking you to Kathy and John's Super Salon, right across the street from his agency. He doesn't do anything more to it and takes you straight to the salon to see if you can't salvage it. He feels awful about it, and will never touch your hair again.

Cait knows she isn't going to do a good job with it, but she doesn't tell you that and agrees to cut it anyway. Normally, when she wants to cut her hair, she'll just take any shape object she can get a hold of and start chopping away, and that's exactly what she does with you. She'll sit you down, pull out a pocket knife, and slice whole chunks off at a time. The worst part is that she's got no shame in it.

Preston will gasp quietly and cover his mouth with his hand. He refuses to move and will just stand there, completely still until you ask him what's wrong. He doesn't even know where to begin telling you how badly he's messed up and will instead, just apologize, rest his hands on the back of your shoulders, and rub reassuring circles into them with his thumbs. There are plenty of generals who don't have good hair! Nothing to fret over!

Codsworth will let out a silent 'Oh dear' and turn his buzzsaw off. Eventually, he'll begin reminding you of a separate time when you'd come back from the barber with you're hair all fucked, before explaining that he did exactly that. He tries to be light-hearted about it, but he's just as devastated as you are, possibly even more. He's a Mr. Handy, for Godsake! And he can't even do the basics!

Piper isn't even subtle about it. She'll just immediately begin comparing it to Atomites she's met through investigative journalism. She'll tell you that she's just giving you the 'wasteland special' and you shouldn't feel too upset about it. There are loads of people with this style! So, cheer up! It'll grow back!

Curie doesn't even realize she's messed anything up. In her opinion, any hairstyle any person has looks good. She doesn't quite understand the emotional attachment many people have toward it and just cuts it really short to help with mobility and whatnot. When you explain it to her, however, she starts to feel really guilty and will apologize nonstop.

Strong will just shave you bald. Now you look like him! What's there to be upset over? No support whatsoever from him.

Hancock will also just cut it with his knife, although, he's a lot more sympathetic than Cait. He'll hug you out of remorse and tell you it could be worse. You could be a ghoul and have no hair at all! Look at him! He can't even grow hair anymore so, don't feel too bad about it, alright?

Deacon will immediately fall to the ground in a squat, head in his hands as he simultaneously tries not to laugh or cry. He's cut his own hair so many times before with no issue - he cuts everyone in the Railroad's hair! - and it shatters him to know that he messed up on a craft he thought he perfected. He's supposed to be good at this! After a moment, he'll stand again and find you a wig in his collection for you to keep until your hair grows back. At least now the two of you can be wig buddies? Yay?

X6-88 will hum in defeat when he's messed it up before saying that he told you you should've gone to someone who actually knows how to cut hair. He can't comfort you for shit and probably just blames you for asking for help from someone who can't cut hair.

Old Longfellow knows how to cut hair. So, if he's messed it up, it means he was drunk. But, hey! Now you have a story to tell the folks at The Last Plank! So, he'll take you straight there so you can, hopefully, drink it off and laugh with the other regulars about it. No harm done!

Gage will tell you straight out that he's fucked it up badly, but he's not that concerned with it. If you seem upset, he'll just shrug and tell you it's not as bad as some of the other raiders in this place. If it bothers you that much, though, he'll get you a helmet for you to wear for the time being. It's safer for you anyway.

[pinkamour1588]

Firstprince Sticky Notes

I had the headcanon last night that Alex leaves and hides sticky notes all over their home. It starts when Henry is going through a depressive episode. Alex “breaks into” the brownstone. (He has a key. He just shows up uninvited and when Henry is sleeping or has managed to drag himself to work.) He puts sticky notes all over the brownstone with things that he loves about Henry, many of them come off the Incomplete List. After he sees how much Henry loves them, it becomes a thing. He starts putting the date on when he wrote the note. (Though they have a playful argument over the correct way to write the date.) He starts not only does he just stick the notes places like countertops and cabinets, he also hides them. He’ll stick one in the bottom of Henry’s sock drawer, under his laptop, inside his favorite mug, in the book Henry’s reading, in the pocket of his coat, etc. Alex takes it as a challenge to hide them as well as he can. He hides one so well that Henry doesn’t find it until they’re moving out of the brownstone. It’s dated as late Fall 2022. (As in, it’s been hidden for over three years.) It says something like “I love waking up next to you every morning. I want to do it for the rest of my life.”

Early on, they're pretty basic and just include things from the incomplete list or just say “I love you”. Over time, they become more elaborate. Some of the notes are quotes from historical love letters, like they had put in their emails. Some have song lyrics. Some have inside jokes. Some have reminders of things they’ve done together (spicy and not spicy). Some have puns Alex tries to make. The first time he stuck to Henry's favorite mug just has the description of how Henry likes his tea (how long he brews it, what he puts in his tea and how much, etc)

The notes also become color coded. 

Red is spicy things. 

Light yellow is things directly from the Incomplete List. 

Light blue is observations, like the tea or noting which sweater is Henry's favorite.

Hot pink is David related. 

Light pink is future pets. 

Purple/lavender is future child(ren)/fatherhood related. 

White is boring adulting (like reminders of appointments).

Novelty sticky notes (like taco shaped sticky notes) are mostly just “I love you” notes (written in glitter gel pen when Alex is feeling particularly extra). 

Of course, Henry eventually gets in on leaving sticky notes for Alex.* His are written on mint green sticky notes. (The date is written on those ones too.)

~~~

*This morning, I realized this is somewhat canon based on Casey’s Threads post...

Also tagging @starkfridays cause she contributed to the discussion of this headcanon (and it seems the wonderful other people--Ellie, Ishita, and Barghav--who also contributed don't have Tumblr).

[ange1heavensent]

Joel “meeting” you for the first time

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Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

w/c: ≈ 680

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It was dark outside when Ellie awoke to adamant knocks on her front door. However she refused to get up, first of all she could sense that it was way too early for someone to be bothering her, secondly the bed was warm and cozy with the extra body beside her, lying beneath the covers. But the knocks continued to echo through her garage and she felt you stir and lightly shake her mumbling  “Ellie someones at the door.” She could no longer ignore the person who was disturbing her sleep and begrudgingly walked towards the front door, rubbing her face and hand combing through her hair, trying to look somewhat presentable for the madman who was knocking at this hour. 

She turned on the porch light and moved the small curtain in front of the glass window on the door. On the other side of the glass stood Joel. She sighed and opened the door, her hand scratching her neck, a little embarrassed of the state she was in. “What’s up?” she asked, “There’ve been some report of infected up north, Maria is sending us out to scout.” “Alright..” Ellie sighed, “come in, I don’t want it to get cold inside.” Joel stepped through the door and stood awkwardly in front of it when he realized there was someone in Ellie’s bed. Ellie had made her way towards your side of the bed, stroking your hair and softly repeating and filling you in on the situation. After the brief conversation Ellie made her way to her closet and awkwardly glanced at Joel, who she kind of had forgotten was there. “Just gonna go change” she said as she hurriedly made her way to the bathroom and quickly shut the door. 

“Hi, Joel” you greeted him as you sat up in bed, covers wrapped around you. “Hi, Y/n” he replied back, at least it was someone he recognised, since you were one of Ellie’s friends. You smiled, trying to ease the awkwardness of the situation and offered to make something to eat, trying to do something, anything,  that wasn't sitting in Ellie’s bed. But he answered that he had already eaten. The uncomfortable atmosphere of the room was broken when Ellie yelled from the bathroom “Why couldn’t Tommy go with you?” “Maria wouldn’t let him, he’s got a cold” Joel yelled back. 

“I'm ready, ” Ellie said as she walked out of the bathroom. “Are you not going to eat anything?” You said as Ellie walked towards the front door. “I’m fine, baby” she replied, the term of endearment slipping out of habit. “Can you atleast grab a sandwich or something?” you retaliated. “I’ll be alright, okay” she spoke softly, Joel had already made it outside, while Ellie was tying her shoelaces and having the conversation with you. Ellie pushed the door closed, leaving Joel standing outside, while she walked towards you and playfully crawled up the bed placing kisses on your face. You giggled as you grabbed Ellie’s face placing one last kiss on her lips before whispering “be safe, you better come back in one piece, okay” Ellie lightly tucked some of stray hair behind your ear, while with a smile on her face saying “I won’t even get a scratch, I promise.” Then she climbed out of bed and quickly left, with a bye, hoping that she hadn’t left Joel standing outside for too long. 

He was standing further away than she had anticipated and lightly jogged towards him. When she was walking by his side Joel asked “Is Y/n your girlfriend?” “yeah, kind of” Ellie shrugged, “why only kind of?” Joel chuckled, “Well I haven't officially asked her.” Ellie said, while glancing at him. She could see a small smile tugging at Joel’s lips before he said “Well, I think you should.” “So you're okay with it?” Ellie asked, trying to ease her nervousness. “Does she make you happy?” Joel answered. “Yeah” Ellie said, now trying to act nonchalant about it, when Joel said “Well, then I am okay with it,” looking at Ellie. 

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Thank you for reading! If you liked this fic, check out my masterlist for more :)

[nickeverdeen]

Frosty Bite | Ellie Williams x fem!reader

Pairings: Ellie x reader (romantic), Ellie x Dina (platonic), reader x Dina (platonic), Ellie x Maria (platonic), Maria x reader (platonic)

Type of fic: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Cussing

Summary: You stayed home during one patrol while Ellie took it alone, but it shows that Murphy’s Law isn’t to be underestimated

Ps: This may be a bit cheesy and also it’s a mystery to be too about how reader didn’t get infected so if you figure it out let me know 😭

———————

The chilly autumn air had been getting to you for weeks now. The persistent winds and dropping temperatures left you with a runny nose and an occasional cough, but you and Ellie shrugged it off as nothing more than a seasonal cold. Patrols had to go on, and you weren’t about to let a little sickness keep you from your responsibilities.

However, it didn’t take long for the “cold” to worsen. Each day seemed to bring a new wave of fatigue and dizziness, and Ellie noticed. She’d been nagging you more and more, her concern apparent even if she tried to mask it behind casual suggestions. “Maybe you should take it easy today,” she’d say. But when she finally told you to stay home from patrol, it sparked a light argument.

“I’m fine, Ellie,” you insisted, your voice hoarse. “It’s just a cold. I’ll be alright.”

Ellie’s expression was a mix of frustration and worry. “It’s more than a cold, and you know it. Just stay home today, okay? I don’t want you pushing yourself and getting worse.”

You huffed but reluctantly agreed, if only to get Ellie off your back. “Fine. But only if you bring me some tea before you leave.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Deal.”

After making sure you had a steaming cup of tea, Ellie headed out, leaving you bundled up in bed. It was only a few hours later that you noticed Ellie was running late. The tea had gone cold on the nightstand, and you’d paced around the room enough times to grow anxious. You decided to find her yourself, grabbing your jacket and trudging out into the brisk air despite the dizziness that still lingered.

You ran into Jesse on your way and asked if he knew where Ellie was. “Haven’t seen her since she headed out,” he replied with a shrug. His answer did little to ease your nerves, so you continued on, hoping to find her trail.

After a while, muffled cursing reached your ears from a nearby house. You broke into a run, following the sound and rushing inside. You stopped cold at the sight: Ellie, struggling against a Clicker, spores thick in the air around her. She wasn’t wearing a mask—you knew she was immune—but panic overtook your senses.

Without thinking, you grabbed Ellie’s broken mask from the floor and held it over your face as best as you could, kicking the Clicker off her and shooting it in the head. Ellie finally managed to get to her feet, eyes wide with terror as she realized you were in the room full of spores. She grabbed you roughly, shoving you out through the door and slamming it behind both of you.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Ellie shouted, her voice shaking as she ripped the broken mask from your face.

Before you could answer, darkness crept into your vision, and you collapsed. Ellie barely caught you, her breath hitching as she felt the heat radiating off your skin. Panic surged in her chest, but she quickly hoisted you onto her horse and sped back to Jackson, shouting for Jesse as soon as she reached the gates.

Jesse didn’t waste time asking questions. He helped Ellie get you back to your shared hut, laying you down on the couch while Ellie hovered anxiously. Jesse turned to her, trying to speak, but Ellie cut him off. “Just… go,” she said, her voice cracking. “I’ve got it from here.” She pushed him out, shutting the door before sinking to the floor beside you.

The hours dragged by painfully slow. Ellie stayed by your side, holding your hand as she watched for any sign that the spores had taken hold. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and eventually, exhaustion overtook her, and she drifted off with her head resting on the edge of the couch.

The next morning, Dina let herself in, finding Ellie asleep beside you. She gently shook your shoulder, waking you first. You stirred, your diziness still high but lucid enough to sit up a bit. Dina looked you over with a tense expression, checking for any signs that you were turning. To her relief, there were none.

“It’s just a fever,” she said quietly after a moment. “You’re not infected.”

You felt a wave of relief crash over you, but it was nothing compared to the look on Ellie’s face when she woke up and saw you were okay. Her eyes flew open, and she shot up, immediately reaching for your hand.

“Dina says it’s just a fever,” you reassured her, your voice still weak. “I’m not infected.”

Ellie let out a shaky breath, tears spilling down her cheeks as she pulled you into a tight hug, burying her face in your shoulder. “Fuck,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

You rubbed her back soothingly, despite the ache in your limbs. “I’m okay.”

After a moment, Ellie pulled back, cupping your face in her hands. “I swear, if you ever do something like that again…”

You gave her a faint smile. “I won’t. Promise.”

Ellie let out a breath of relief but stayed close, holding you as if afraid you might vanish. You stayed like that until she called Maria for help with treating your fever. As Maria went to fetch some medicine, Ellie never let go of your hand, refusing to leave your side for even a second. She stayed with you throughout the day, keeping you warm, hydrated, and comforted until your fever finally started to break.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” you murmured later that night as you lay back in bed, finally able to rest more comfortably.

Ellie leaned over and pressed a kiss to your forehead, her fingers tracing patterns on your hand. “Just… don’t ever do that again, okay?” Her voice was soft but still held a tremor of fear.

“I promise,” you repeated, squeezing her hand.

As you drifted off, you felt Ellie’s arm wrap protectively around your waist, her steady presence a comforting anchor as sleep finally claimed you.