#and like at least she's a decent one but still

[yandereforme]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Ouran Academy

TW: Neglect

You weren’t wanted by either of your parents. That had been the cold hard truth that you had known since you were nine years old.

Your mother was a member of a wealthy family. While she wasn’t the heiress, that title belonging to her older sister, she still had a lot of money at her disposal, and took long trips to different places.

That was how she met Bruce, and she had a one night stand with him.

She didn’t realize she was pregnant until it was too late for a termination, and her parents threatened to cut her off if she gave up their grandchild. So she reluctantly kept you.

You were mostly raised by a revolving door of nursemaids and babysitters until you were five, and your mother deemed you old enough to be alone. You saw your mother about three times a year, during which she would play a doting mother in public before verbally tearing you down in private.

You were five when you understood you were a burden to her. You were eight when you stopped desperately searching for her love.

You were nine when she died in an accident, and your biological father had to take you. (Your grandparents were too old to take care of you, and your aunt was rarely seen outside of a board room, and was unwilling to take you.)

You had a few days of hope for a family, since Bruce Wayne was known for being an amazing father to his children.

That belief was shattered after you moved in and you were basically shunned by everyone. Bruce was cold and rushed around you. Tim was cold and distant. Dick acted nice, but he barely gave you a minute of notice. Even Alfred was constantly brushing you off, though he had a decent excuse.

The final hope was shattered when, three weeks after you moved in, your birthday passed unacknowledged and unnoticed. The only sign of it was the text from your grandparents and the package you received from them two days later, filled with nice dresses for you.

You grew up quietly, keeping to yourself. You had weekly calls with your grandparents, but didn’t mention the family.

The breaking point was when you were 13, and Damian arrived. You thought now, finally, you would have someone like you. That belief lasted six hours, until you were almost stabbed by the menace.

It was one of the first times the family spoke to you, and it was to tell you not to overreact. You barely held back the rebuke and bitter laughter.

The worst part about Damian’s arrival? The fact they loved him. Even though he kept acting out and threatening people and generally being a prick, Bruce made time for him and brought him to meals. Dick showered him in affection. Even Alfred was softer with him. It wasn’t fair. You were a perfect kid and they didn’t care about you, but in comes a kid with the same story as you but with a worse attitude, and he is loved unconditionally?!?

It wasn’t fair.

After the fifth time Damian almost killed you without reprimand, you contacted your grandparents and asked about returning to the country. They eagerly told you about a high school in Japan that wasn’t far from one of their houses, filled with people of your status and known for giving its graduates a great advantage in later years.

Two days later, you approached Bruce with the papers to okay your move for the school year and signing custody over to your grandparents temporarily while you were in Japan. You had a whole speech prepared in your mind defending the choice, but he signed without even bothering to ask any questions. (You didn’t cry, even as you felt a lump in your throat. Despite everything, you thought he would at least care enough to ask questions.)

You boarded a plane a month later, reading your new textbooks as you flew. You took the sparkling champagne (non alcoholic) from the flight attendant and raised your glass in the direction of Japan, your new future.

“To Ouran Academy and my future there.” You murmur softly before downing some of your drink.

Edit: I hope you all like this! I’ve been working on it for a while, and hopefully this isn’t too bad. My finals are next week, so wish me luck!

[lieutenantsluvr]

Death Trapped, Clad Happily | 3

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Chapter 3

❝ though I've handled the wood, I still worship the flame long as amber of ember glows all the "would that I'd loved" is long ago ❞

pairing : joel miller x f!reader

series tags/warnings: outbreak!joel. description of infected. gore. mentions of violence. description of mental health (anxiety, depression). decent age gap. mature language. grumpy x sunshine. no use of y/n. canon divergence. slow burn. eventual smut. occasional joel perspective. lacking established relationship.

synop: the aftermath of the market. night in a high-rise, waiting for his words to come. unfamiliar faces pose a threat. and, you need to stop playing hero.

w/c 8.9k

"Joel?" you whispered, your voice trembling as adrenaline still churned hot and cold through your veins.

He just looked at you like you were something precious and breakable, and he didn’t know how to hold you without ruining it. So, he didn't. He didn't hold you. Why the fuck would he?

He tightened at the sound of your voice. Lips forming a line, tongue jutting out into the side of his cheek. And without another word, without even glancing back—he turned and walked away.

Ellie leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed tight over her chest, her eyes flickering between you and the body crumpled at your feet. She didn’t say anything. Didn't have to. The way she looked at you—half guarded, half curious—said enough.

She didn’t know what to make of it. Of you. Of whatever the hell it was you had with Joel. Whether it was better or worse than what she had with him. Whether it was safer—or scarier.

Truth was? You didn’t know either.

And somehow, standing there with blood cooling on the floor and Joel’s absence like a wound you couldn’t cover—you weren’t sure you wanted to find out.

You pushed yourself to your feet, every muscle screaming in protest. The fall backwards didn't hurt you, maybe bruised your ass—it was more your pride that hurt. Blood streaked your face. You swiped at it with the back of your sleeve, only smearing it worse. Bending down, fingers clumsy and shaking as you grabbed your pack, slinging it back over your shoulders like it weighed a thousand pounds.

Ellie moved quickly after that, like the spell had broken. She dropped into a crouch, gathering the scattered cans and packets off the floor with brisk movements. Organizing them. Making sure not a scrap was left behind.

At least you’d done what you came here to do.

Food for Joel. Food for Ellie. Enough to keep the three of you breathing a little longer. Enough to keep the worst kind of death—slow and starving—at bay.

You didn’t look at the body on the floor again. You didn’t need to.

Survival had already made its judgment.

"Did you hear all of that?" you asked, your voice low, almost getting swallowed up by the emptiness around you.

The broken glass crunched under your boots with every step, sharp and jarring in the silence. Ahead, Joel was already putting distance between you—moving fast, sweeping every hallway of the abandoned market like he couldn't stand being still. Like he couldn’t stand being near you. But he stayed close enough to keep you in sight. Because he had to.

Ellie glanced at you, shoulders stiff under the too-big jacket she wore. Her fingers fidgeted with the strap of her pack, like she wasn’t sure what to say—or if she even wanted to.

"It’s okay if you did," you added, the words scraping their way out. You drew in a shaky breath, forcing yourself to meet her gaze again. "I’m—I’m sorry if I scared you."

She shrugged, all teenage bravado. Though there was something small and wounded around the edges of it.

"Guess… it’s not the first time," she muttered, stuffing her hands deep into her pockets. "Doubt it'll be the last, either."

Her voice was tough, but you could hear it. The part of her that understood way too much for someone so young.

You gave Ellie a small, broken smile—one you knew didn’t reach your eyes. She didn’t smile back. But she stayed close.

Is she mad too? Did you really fuck up that bad? You just wanted the man to live. He was hungry—starving. You had humanity left, even if it was ever-slowly seeping through your skin and out of your body. Fuck, you felt no worse than a scavenger. You—were— a scavenger.

Did I scare them?

The two of you started moving again, boots crunching over debris, careful to avoid the bigger shards. Joel was up ahead, maybe ten, fifteen feet. His shoulders were tight beneath his jacket, the kind of stiff that meant he was listening to everything, even if he acted like he wasn’t.

You could feel it. The way his head tilted just a little when you spoke. The way his hand hovered near the grip of his rifle, too distracted to really scan the aisles now.

He’d heard. Of course he’d heard.

And he didn’t say a damn thing.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat scraping raw. Part of you wanted to call out to him, to explain yourself, to apologize even though you didn’t know exactly for what. Last night? Today?

But you didn’t.

Instead, you pressed on, falling into step beside Ellie, matching her smaller strides, even though every instinct in you screamed to look back at Joel. To make sure he wasn’t drifting too far. To make sure he wasn’t leaving you behind. Because, he was. Emotionally. But—who were you to ask for that? For his emotions?

The rain had stopped outside, but the cold stuck around, seeping in through every broken window and crack in the ceiling. The three of you moved like ghosts through the empty store. Silent. Haunted.

Joel reached the front entrance first. He paused there, hand braced on the doorframe, back still to you.

For a moment you thought he might say something. Anything.

Instead, he just gave a small jerk of his head—a signal. Let’s go.

No words. No glance over his shoulder.

But he waited. He waited until he heard your steps, until he knew you and Ellie were right behind him, before pushing the door open and leading the way back out into the gray, empty world.

He wouldn’t look at you. But he wouldn’t leave you, either. Not yet.

The days ahead were hard. Harder than before.

Everything was quieter now. Not just the land around you—the hollowed-out towns, the endless gray sky—but between the three of you, too.

Each conversation was a ghost of what it could’ve been. Each night shift swap was done with tight nods and averted eyes. Joel didn’t speak to you. Not once. And—that was the plan all along, wasn’t it? Get Ellie where she needed to go. Deliver her. Get the vaccine. Walk away. Walk. Away. Easy.

So why did it burn, low and bitter, every time he chose silence over you? Why did it matter if he spoke? Or if Ellie woke you up with a smile? Why did it bother you so much when he didn’t? When she didn't acknowledge you?

It's a dangerous battle. Two people you didn't know—let alone like—at the beginning of this trip now all consuming in your soul. So knotted inside of you that surely if you were to ever lose them you might lose yourself.

Pittsburgh loomed ahead—broken buildings clawing at the storm-torn sky. It had been a rough journey getting here. Rain like the gods themselves were furious, hammering down without mercy, soaking you to the bone. If there was any forgiveness left in the world, it sure as hell wasn’t meant for you.

Now, perched on the 27th floor of a half-collapsed office building, you pressed your forehead lightly against the cracked glass, squinting down at the city below.

A flicker of movement—small, brief. Flashlights. Too many of them.

There were a lot of people down there. Too many for comfort. QZ? No. They're gone. Fireflies? Fuck, who knows. Whoever they were, they wanted you dead.

You exhaled slowly, fogging up the glass, then wiped it clear with your sleeve. You guys weren’t looking for a fight. You guys were looking for a way out.

Somewhere to weave through the streets unseen. Somewhere to get Ellie through this city alive. Somewhere to get Joel through it, too, even if he didn’t want your help anymore.

Even if he didn’t want you anymore.

You stayed there for a long time, eyes locked on every little flicker of movement below, heart steady but tired, mind racing ahead to the paths you might have to take.

Behind you, the floorboards creaked—soft, hesitant.

You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

Joel.

There was a long pause. Long enough to think maybe he’d just leave again, keep his distance like always.

But then— A rustle of fabric. The subtle scrape of boots against the floor.

He was coming closer.

And for the first time in days, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—you weren’t the only one feeling all this silence like a knife to the gut.

“There’s a lot of them down there,” you murmured, keeping your voice low, barely more than a breath against the glass. “Not just infected. Scavs, too. Who knows what else.”

Your finger traced along the spiderweb cracks splintered through the windowpane, nail catching gently in the jagged edges. It gave your hands something to do.

Behind you, Joel said nothing. You could feel him, though—close enough now that you could hear the way he shifted his weight, the soft exhale through his nose. He still smelled good. Isn't that silly?

You kept your gaze fixed on the city below. The lights flickering like fireflies. Like tiny promises you knew better than to trust. They were after someone. Maybe you three.

“She’s asleep,” you said, almost to yourself, glancing toward the dark bundle of Ellie’s curled-up form in the far corner.

Another beat of silence.

Then Joel’s voice, rough and low, finally broke it.

“Good.”

For a second, you almost thought that was it—that he’d retreat back into silence like he always did lately.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Joel shifted closer, until the ghost of his reflection hovered beside yours in the cracked glass. Worn. Weathered. He hadn't been sleeping, you knew that. He wouldn't switch with you at night.

“You were right," he said quietly, voice scraping raw like he hated the taste of the words. "Back there.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch the side of his face. His jaw was tight. His eyes were on the window, not you.

“I heard every word," he said. "And you were right. You scared the hell outta' her."

"Outta' me."

Your throat tightened. Your fingers stilled against the glass. Slowly leaving the cold pane, and resting down at your side.

He finally looked at you then—really looked. Even if it was through the reflection of the glass. And the thing in his eyes wasn’t anger. It wasn’t even fear anymore.

It was something heavier. Something worse. Something that made your chest ache.

"I can't lose you," he said, so soft you almost missed it, "too."

The words hung between you. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t even know if you were supposed to say anything. Fuck, It felt useless to even think.

So you just stayed there—shoulder to shoulder in the dark, both of you pretending you were still just looking at the city. Both of you pretending like you weren’t already too far gone to save.

Your hands fidgeted uselessly at your sides, fingers brushing over the seams of your jacket, clenching and unclenching without you telling them to. In the reflection of the glass, you caught it—Joel’s hands doing the same. Stretching, curling in and out like a reflex he couldn’t control. Fist balled tightly. Then release.

Like he wanted to reach for something.

You swallowed hard, heart thudding heavy against your ribs, and forced your eyes back to the city lights.

"I’m sorry, too," you said, voice barely steady. You breathed in slow, let it scrape against your throat.

"You were right," you went on, tracing a fingertip through the dust caked along the window frame. "It was ballsy to think I could just… talk my way out of it." A ghost of a smile—not a happy one, but something tired and real—twitched at your mouth. "Guess all it would've taken was one bad second," you said. "One bad choice."

One bad second, and it wouldn’t just be your blood on the ground. It’d be Ellie’s. It’d be Joel’s. How could you fuck it up for all of them? Think of just yourself?

You finally risked a glance at him through the glass—at the way his jaw ticked, the way his fists clenched at his sides like he was barely holding himself together.

“Not ballsy,” Joel muttered, so low you almost didn’t catch it. “Just… scared.”

You turned fully this time, facing him.

Joel’s eyes lifted to meet yours. No mask. No walls. Just the battered, brutal honesty he rarely let anyone see.

"You were scared," he said again, like admitting it hurt him more than anything else ever could, "And you still tried to save him."

You blinked, chest tightening so hard it almost knocked the air from your lungs. You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. Not without unraveling completely.

Instead, you shifted closer—just an inch, just enough that your jacket brushed his.

Joel’s fingers twitched again, like he might reach out. Like he might grab your wrist, your sleeve, _something.

But he didn’t. And neither did you.

You sighed, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, and gave a small nod.

"I think I’m gonna try to get some sleep," you said, voice quiet.

Your gaze drifted to Joel’s—and for a moment, you actually looked at each other. Really looked. Something warm and unbearable flickered between you. Or maybe it was just you.

"Wake me up when you want to switch," you added, already stepping back toward the far corner where Ellie slept.

But your body hesitated before you got too far. A thought. A memory. A weight in your pack.

“Oh—” you stuttered, spinning back toward him a little too fast.

Joel blinked at you, eyebrows pulling together in that guarded, slightly confused way of his.

"I, uh—" you started, then cursed yourself under your breath. "I was gonna give you this… but then the market happened, and it got tense and… I—"

You cut yourself off, cheeks burning, heart hammering. Why the fuck are you nervous? This doesn't mean anything. It's an apology. Right? Right.

Before you could screw it up even more, you dug into your pack, fingers fumbling past cans and bandages and the little bits of your world you carried with you.

Finally, you pulled out the pair of black leather gloves.

A little scuffed. A little cracked at the seams. But still good. Still warm.

You held them out toward him, palm open, like some kind of peace offering you were terrified he’d refuse.

"I found them in that department store," you said, voice smaller now. "Before… y’know."

Joel just stood there for a second, staring at the gloves, like he wasn’t sure he was even allowed to take them.

Then, slowly—so slowly—he reached out and took them from your hand. His fingers brushed yours.

Warm. Calloused. Real.

Your breath caught, and you prayed he didn’t notice.

Joel turned the gloves over in his hands, quiet for so long you thought maybe you’d messed everything up again.

But then—

“Thank you,” he said, voice low and rough, almost like he didn’t trust it not to break.

You nodded quickly, almost too quick, backing up a step.

"Yeah," you mumbled. "It’s not a big deal. Just… figured your hands were probably freezing."

You were halfway turned around again when you heard him say, so soft you almost missed it:

"It is a big deal."

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.

You just climbed into your corner of the ruined floor, pulling your jacket tighter around you, heart hammering so loud you were sure Joel could hear it even from across the room.

And when you finally closed your eyes, you swore you felt him looking at you. Just for a second.

It took a few moments to fall asleep. Your body practically begging for rest, exhausted from the journey, the fear, the tension. But you knew better than to sleep too deeply, not here, not now. Your mind stayed just at the edge of consciousness, ears still alert— until you weren't. Sound asleep, cuddled into your jacket for a semblance of hope.

But it was the voice that jolted you out of your sleep.

“Joel.”

“Joel.”

“JOEL!”

Your heart stopped, and you shot up in a panic, your head spinning, the room around you hazy from the sleep you hadn’t fully shaken off. The familiar feeling of your heartbeat thudding in your chest, of your muscles still heavy with the weight of sleep, made everything harder. You looked around, your eyes wide and frantic, trying to orient yourself in the dark, ruined space.

Then your eyes landed on Ellie, her face twisted in panic, her hands shaking as she was backing away from… something. Something you couldn’t see.

And then—the barrel.

A gun.

Your breath caught in your throat.

It was aimed directly at you.

The cold metal glinted in the dim light, steady, unflinching. Your heart thundered in your chest, eyes blinking rapidly, trying to focus. The grogginess clung to you, making the world feel distant and unreal.

Ellie was moving fast—too fast, her voice trembling, “Joel! Wake the fuck up!”

Joel stirred. A slow growl rumbled from deep in his throat. His eyes peeled open, sluggish at first, still stuck in the haze of sleep. But then—then—the familiar gleam of metal snapped his mind awake. He froze, instantly alert. Every muscle in his body stiffened, coiling tight, and you could see the shift in him. The moment the danger hit.

His eyes scanned the room, quickly locking on the two figures standing near. One was older—maybe twenty or so, scruffy, wild-eyed, and armed with a pistol, his finger twitching on the trigger. The other was… a kid. A boy. Barely old enough to be in middle school, probably younger, still clinging to the innocence of youth—but holding a glock, aiming it straight at him and Ellie. His hands shook, but his grip was tight.

You blinked again. Am I still dreaming? Why is there a kindergartener holding my.. Family? Friends. Coworkers. Associates… hostage.

You swallowed hard, throat dry as dust. No. This was real. Okay. This was happening.

"Okay. Okay," you said, your voice shaky but steadying with effort. You slowly raised your hands, palms out, fingers trembling slightly. "We’re just waking up. That’s all. No need for any of this, alright?"

The older boy’s eyes flicked between you and Joel, a mix of fear and uncertainty flashing in his gaze. He swallowed hard. You could see it—the way he was struggling to stay in control.

His eyes darted from Joel to you. Back and forth. Like he couldn’t decide who to trust. "Just cooperate," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "And no one gets hurt, okay?"

The younger boy—barely a man—kept the gun aimed unwaveringly at Ellie and Joel. His hands were shaking. He couldn’t be more than a few years younger than Ellie.

You swallowed again. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what to say.

But you couldn’t let this get worse. You couldn’t let them hurt Ellie. Or Joel.

"Alright." You nodded, trying to keep your voice steady, the tremble in your chest barely contained. You shifted, moving slowly until you were kneeling, hands still raised—palms open, fingers splayed in a peaceful gesture.

You didn’t know if it was enough, but it was all you had. No weapons. No tricks. No fight. Just… words. That's what got Joel last time. The fact you tried to talk your way out of death. The looming shadowy hand practically wrapped around your throat, urging you to the other side. But, it never did take you.

"What is it you’d like? Food? Water?" You kept your tone soft, careful—like you were talking to a scared animal. Eyes flicking between Joel, still barely awake, and the two boys.

You caught Joel’s gaze. It was sharp, alert—he knew what you were trying to do. You gave a look. That look. The one that said, Let me talk.

You weren’t sure if he trusted you to handle this—or if he was just waiting for the moment to act—but it didn’t matter now.

"Safety?" you finished, the word coming out like a question, an offer, a hope that it wasn’t going to escalate into violence.

The older boy hesitated, his grip on the gun tightening for a moment, but he didn’t pull the trigger. The younger one—his eyes darted nervously between you and his companion.

For a split second, everything was still. The air was thick with the weight of the moment.

The older boy’s voice broke the silence, shaky but trying to sound confident. "We… we don’t want any trouble. Just don’t make us do something we’ll regret, alright?"

You nodded, slow and understanding, your voice low but sure. "I get it. You're scared."

You inhaled deeply, your breath shaky but controlled. "You have someone you want to protect."

Your eyes flicked to the young boy, the one gripping the gun like it was his lifeline, and then back to the cold steel barrel still aimed at your face. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, like he was sizing you up—deciding if you were someone worth trusting.

"I have…" you paused, your throat tight. The words came slower this time, like they were too heavy to speak. "Some people I’d like to protect, too."

Joel. Ellie.

"Tell me what you want," you murmured, keeping your voice smooth and soft, almost honeyed. It was gentle, like a mother trying to soothe her child. "And maybe we can work something out. You never know until you tell me, okay?"

The older boy swallowed hard, eyes flicking over to Joel, and you saw the tension tighten in his shoulders as he spoke. "Him." He nodded, a hard edge in his voice, his gaze never leaving Joel. "We saw him take down those scavengers." You watched, sensing what was coming, your gut tightening. "He's good with a weapon. Good with his hands."

You gave a small nod, glancing over to Joel—Now stirring slightly at the mention of his name.

You turned back to the boy. "Go on."

"You came here. To one of the highest points in the city," he continued, his voice steadier now, more sure of himself. "You’re looking for a way to get out, right? I know how to get us out of here."

You followed his eyes, glancing over at the flashlights moving in the distance, the faint gleam of scavengers searching. You knew they were out there. But his words didn’t sit right with you. Not at all.

"You see those flashlights? Those scavs down there?" he added, his voice dropping, a little more urgent. "They’re after me. Not you."

Your mind raced, but you kept your expression steady. This wasn’t a random encounter. They had a plan. But what plan?

"I want him," the boy continued, his finger twitching on the trigger, "to protect me. Get my brother and I out of Pittsburgh. I show the way. He kills. That’s all."

The final words hit you like a punch in the gut. That's all.

You stared at the boy for a long moment, trying to digest what he just said. You glanced over at Joel again. His eyes were now fully open, alert, catching your gaze with an unreadable expression. His fingers twitched once—probably itching for his own weapon—but he stayed still for now.

You bit your lip, a slow, calculated nod following.

It was a hard choice. No, it wasn’t really a choice at all.

But you had to stall. Had to think.

You looked back to the boy and his younger brother, trying to read them, understand the desperation in their eyes.

"You want him…" you said, voice level, calm. "To protect you. To get you out. And you’ll help us with the scavengers down there, right?"

The boy shifted nervously, but his grip on the gun didn’t falter. "Yeah. We make it out of here, and you don’t have to worry about us."

It was a lie, you knew that. But for now, it was the only one you had to work with.

You took another slow breath. "Okay," you said, just loud enough for them to hear, trying to keep your tone steady. "Let’s make a deal."

. . .

That's how you ended up here.

You always seem to say that before shit gets real, huh?

Wading through small puddles of water, the sound of it trickling against the grimy, concrete walls of the sewer. The stench hit hard—wet, rust, and something sour that never quite faded. You tried not to breathe too deeply.

Ellie and the kid—Sam, as you'd come to learn—had wandered ahead, their footsteps echoing as they darted from one forgotten corner to the next. The space had once been a bunker, probably used for QZ daycare back in the early days.

Toys were still scattered around, faded by time but untouched in their innocence. Shelves of children's books sagged under the weight of mildew and dust. Crayon drawings still clung to the walls like ghosts of better days.

Sam and Ellie laughed softly, running their fingers over the painted walls, snatching up anything colorful or strange—like the world hadn’t gone to hell just above their heads.

“Okay, guys—careful,” you called out, your voice echoing softly through the damp corridor. You leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes tracking Ellie and Sam with quiet vigilance.

They were safe—for now—and you weren’t about to let that change. Let them play. Rest for the time being.

You felt him before you saw him. Joel’s presence pressed like a shift in the air, heavy and familiar. Natural, even. He moved up beside you, silent as ever, his shadow falling across the floor.

He’d been like this ever since Sam and his brother, Henry, had put a gun to your heads.

Always nearby. Always watching. Not saying much, but saying everything in the way he hovered—just close enough to intervene, just far enough to pretend he didn’t care.

Henry—the older brother—sat on one of the small, faded green chairs meant for children, his knees awkwardly bent to fit. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched Sam laugh, the sound echoing like something sacred in the tunnels.

"Haven’t heard that in years," he said quietly, voice touched with something almost wistful. His eyes flicked over to you and Joel, gaze warm but tired.

You felt your posture soften. The tension in your shoulders eased as you angled yourself toward him, a silent gesture that said I’m listening.

With a small step forward, you lowered yourself into the chair beside him. Joel followed a beat later, slower, less certain—then sat beside you without a word.

“You’ve taken care of him all this time?” you asked, your voice quiet, almost reverent. Your fingers brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture instinctive—nervous, maybe—but gentle.

Henry nodded, slow. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, palms clasped like he was holding his own thoughts between them. “Since it started,” he said. “Our parents didn’t make it past the first year. After that… it was just… us.”

Us.

You nodded, absorbing the weight of that. It was the kind of sentence that carried more than it said. Alone. Scared. Tired. Having to grow up way faster than you should have.

“I kept telling myself, if I just kept him alive long enough… something would change. Someone would fix this mess. Maybe even invent a cure.” He let out a breath that was almost a laugh, but didn’t quite get there. “I guess that makes me an optimist.”

Joel made a low noise beside you—noncommittal, almost disbelieving. But he didn’t speak. Sometimes you wished you could turn his attitude off.

Your eyes drifted toward Sam, who had found an old stuffed monkey, the fur thread bare but his grin bright. Ellie had crouched beside him, pretending it could talk, making him laugh so hard he nearly dropped it. Such a sweet kid.

Sweet kid.

“You did a good job,” you said, softly.

Henry looked over at you, surprised, like he wasn’t used to hearing that. Like it didn’t matter until someone else said it out loud.

He nodded, clearing his throat. “I try,” he muttered. “Doesn’t always feel like enough.”

“Never does,” Joel finally said, voice low and flat. But something in his tone hinted at understanding. Maybe even agreement. Definitely agreement.

You didn’t press it. Some things didn’t need to be said louder than that. Or, rather, mentioned again.

For a little while, the three of you just sat there, listening to the echo of laughter that made your heart swell a little too big.

“I’m surprised to see a family still intact,” Henry said, glancing up at you, then letting his gaze drift to Joel.

Family. Still intact.

What?

Hahaha. What.

Your heart tripped over the word before your brain could catch up. Family?

“What—us?” you sputtered, caught somewhere between a laugh and a cough. Your eyes flicked to Joel, who stared ahead like he hadn’t heard it. Like maybe if he ignored it, the comment would just float away.

Henry raised an eyebrow, smirking just slightly. “Well… yeah. I mean, you move like one. The way you look after that girl. The way he looks at you.”

Your stomach twisted—some weird mix of flattery and discomfort. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to correct him or just sit with it for a second too long.

Joel shifted beside you, jaw tightening just a fraction.

“We’re—” you started.

“She’s not uh—” Joel added, almost at the same time.

You both stopped. Fell silent.

Henry just chuckled, holding up his hands like he didn’t mean to stir anything. “Hey, Hey," He inhales, "No judgment. Just… sometimes, people find each other. Doesn’t always look the way it used to.”

You exhaled, quiet. The truth of it settled in your chest like a stone in still water. Didn’t always look the way it used to…

Joel didn’t speak again, but you could feel his presence—warm and solid beside you, like a wall you didn’t know you’d been leaning on.

Family. Maybe not in the old-world sense. But in this world? I don't know.

You could still feel the word echoing in your chest like it didn’t belong there, like it had found a hollow space inside you and made itself too comfortable.

You stood too quickly.

“I’m gonna… check on them,” you murmured, brushing off the stiffness in your voice as you slipped down from the child-sized chair. Your fingers fumbled at the hem of your flannel, tugging it straight even though it hadn’t shifted.

Ellie had sat cross-legged on the floor, letting Sam flip through one of the old storybooks with a flashlight between them. She looked up when you approached, eyebrows raised like she’d heard every word from across the room—but knew better than to say anything.

“Hey,” you said, quieter now. “Everything good over here? Gettin' into lots of trouble?”

“Yeah…” Ellie nodded, “We were just making fun of this book. It’s, like, about a turtle that gets lost in the backyard and acts like he crossed the ocean or something.”

You smiled softly, crouching beside them. “Sounds like an adventure."

Ellie met your gaze—just for a second—and you saw it: that glint of knowing. Of understanding more than she let on. She was taking care of Sam.

Sweet girl.

You turned your gaze to Sam, offering him a soft smile—one of those rare ones, the kind that didn’t need to be big to mean something.

He’d been quiet most of the time, keeping to Henry or Ellie like a shadow. Always watchful. Always just a little uncertain of you, even now.

“You doin’ okay?” you asked, keeping your voice low, easy. “We’ve still got some snacks if you’re feelin’ hungry.”

Sam glanced up at you, his small hands still holding the edges of the book like it might disappear if he let go. He didn’t say anything right away, just gave a tiny nod. Hesitant, but honest.

Ellie looked over at you and smiled, like she was watching something shift—some little wall cracking open. You didn't know if she was still mad at you about the market. If she was ever mad in the first place.

“We saved one of the granola bars,” she said, reaching into her pack and pulling it out. “Rationing. Aren’t you proud?”

You let out a quiet laugh, “That might be a first for you.”

Sam took the granola bar with careful fingers, his expression unreadable, but he gave Ellie a grateful look before quietly breaking it in half—and offering her a piece back.

She blinked. Smiled. Took it.

It wasn’t much. But in a world like this, a quiet exchange was everything. It was cute. You settled beside them, resting your arms on your knees, just watching for a moment.

After a few moments of watching them—Ellie gently sounding out the words while Sam showed her each syllable in sign, both faces lit dimly by the flickering flashlight—you felt it.

That pull. That weight. That warmth.

The unmistakable pressure of being seen. Your eyes lifted slowly, like you already knew what you’d find.

And there he was.

Joel.

Leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, that worn brown jacket clinging to him like armor. But his eyes—those tired, storm-worn mocha eyes—were locked on you.

Like they’d never left.

He didn’t flinch when you met his gaze. Didn’t look away, didn’t soften. Just stood there, watching you like he was still trying to figure you out. Like he didn’t know what you were to him, and hated that he couldn’t stop looking anyway.

The flickering of the flashlight between you danced with all the things neither of you had said.

Your breath caught in your chest for just a second, unspoken thoughts burning behind your lips like a ravaging house fire. Begging to escape, begging to die.

You didn’t smile. Neither did he.

But somehow, the silence between you was louder than words could ever be. And for the first time in days, it didn’t feel like distance. It felt like something waiting.

. . .

"Alright guys, it’s been long enough. We have to move." Henry’s voice cut through the lull like a bell—quiet, but final. He stood from the chair, stretching the stiffness from his back with a low grunt.

Though, a small side-eye from Joel. Finally getting told what to do, and where to go.

You moved on instinct, nudging Ellie and Sam gently. “C’mon,” you murmured, soft as a whisper, like you didn’t want to break whatever fragile peace had settled over them.

They stirred slowly, blinking sleep from their eyes as you helped them up. Ellie let out a dramatic groan, rolling her neck before slipping on her jacket. Sam yawned and rubbed his face, small fingers barely visible beneath his sleeves.

You moved through the routine with practiced ease—checking coats, tightening straps, giving laces one more tug before tucking the ends away. It wasn’t just a habit anymore. It was instinct.

Maybe it was the presence of someone even younger than Ellie. Maybe it was the sound of Sam’s laugh still ringing somewhere in your memory, or the way his eyes had lit up when she’d read to him—Maybe her smile when she did read to him. Maybe that tiny flicker of childhood had stirred something deeper in your chest—a flame you thought had long gone cold.

The flame of caring. Actually, deeply caring. Feeling them so tightly knit and wound up in your soul. You weren’t just surviving anymore. You were protecting.

Behind you, Joel moved silently, gathering his things without a word.

. . .

The journey ahead was shorter than expected—and, if you were being honest, painfully dull.

Stray clickers crossed your path now and then, drawn by some distant echo or the scuff of a boot. But they weren’t a threat. Not really. Not with you and Joel working in rhythm the way you did—like muscle memory, like gravity. Easier than before. A bullet here, a shiv there, a quick glance exchanged and it was over before it began.

You kept Sam and Ellie close, but not too close. Far enough that they wouldn't see more than they needed to. Close enough to pull them back if things went south.

Henry hovered nearby too—watchful, always between his brother and the danger. But you noticed it in the way he held his gun. Too stiff. Too cautious. You knew that grip. You'd seen it before, in people who didn’t want to shoot until they absolutely had to.

He was protecting Sam. But he hadn’t gotten used to what that protection sometimes required.

You didn’t judge him for it. But you didn’t trust him with your back, either.

Joel, on the other hand… you didn’t have to look to know where he was. You could hear the crunch of his boots behind you, steady as a heartbeat. He didn’t speak, not unless he needed to. But that was fine. That was Joel. Sometimes it felt like you could converse in silence. Only through glances.

And in a strange, quiet way—it made you feel safer.

Your heels crunched against the gravel as you walked, the sound blending into the stillness of the moment. Your fingers danced idly over the dust-covered hood of the old, rusted car in front of you. The vines had long claimed it, twisting up through the cracked glass and around the decaying metal. Nature was slowly, but surely, taking back what was once hers.

"Almost out," Henry muttered, his voice low as he glanced at the compass in his hand. His eyes flicked between the worn map and the faded street signs, as if each turn had the potential to lead them straight into an ambush.

“Kinda smooth, not gonna lie," you added, leaning back against the car. Your gaze lifted toward the horizon, watching the sun sink low, casting long shadows over the ruined city.

The world felt quieter as the last light of day dripped away, leaving only the dim outlines of crumbling buildings. For a moment, you could almost forget the danger. The weight of the world, pressing down on your shoulders like a constant hum, seemed to fade.

But you knew better than to get comfortable.

Joel's eyes flicked to the horizon, his lips tight. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” he warned, though there wasn’t any malice in his voice.

"Yeah, yeah… Old man," you teased, a small smirk tugging at your lips as your eyes flicked up to Joel. The connection was unspoken, something deeper than words. "Always worried about—"

The shot rang out.

It shattered the air—piercing, brutal. Your body froze, the sound echoing in your skull like a nightmare. Your heart slammed into your ribcage as panic surged up your throat. You didn’t know where it came from. Who it was meant for.

You didn’t wait to find out.

Before you could even take another breath, your body moved on instinct. A ragged inhale, and then you were on the ground—face first, the asphalt scraping against your palms as they skidded to catch your weight. Dust and gravel tore at your skin.

Joel’s voice was sharp, almost lost in the chaos, but it was there. "Get down!"

Ellie’s frantic breathing reached your ears. "What the hell?!"

You could barely hear her over the thumping of your pulse in your ears, but you could feel her tense beside you, flat against the ground.

Heart still racing as you pushed yourself back onto your knees, eyes scanning frantically, trying to make sense of where the shot had come from. The air seemed thicker now, each breath feeling like it took more effort.

Joel was already on the move, crouched low, his gaze sharp as he checked their surroundings. His hand gripped his gun, ready, but his eyes—they were scanning for you, too. A flicker of concern flashed, quick and quiet. Then it was gone. He was gone.

You barely registered the movement before you were scrambling, instinct guiding your every action. Practically flailing. You twisted, squirming against the rough asphalt, hands scraping, bloodied palms slipping on the pavement as you reached out. First Ellie. You pulled her toward you, yanking her under the rusted jeep with more force than you meant to.

"Get under!" you hissed, voice breathless, heart hammering in your chest. The weight of the world pressing down, suffocating. The sounds of movement, only added to the chaos in your head.

Next, Sam. His wide, frightened eyes locked with yours for a fraction of a second before you yanked him into the same hiding spot. His small body felt fragile in your hands, but there was no time to think. You just needed to get them safe.

The sound of your breath was ragged, desperate. It felt like you couldn’t catch it—like your lungs were rejecting the air. Panic surged up from your gut, icy and hot all at once. The adrenaline was pouring through you, sharp and stinging, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet. Not when you couldn’t hear anything else but the pounding of your own pulse.

You pressed your back against the rear tire, eyes wide, darting across the street, trying to make sense of what was happening. Was it another ambush? Were you surrounded? Were the shots aimed at you? At them?

Joel was already gone. He had bolted toward the highest point near you—probably where the shot had come from. His form disappearing into the shadow of the building, his presence already distant. It felt wrong. Without him, your instincts weren’t the same. The rhythm of taking down the monsters around you, the unspoken communication between the two of you—it was gone. And now, with just a split second to think, it felt impossible to breathe.

Your eyes fluttered upward, desperately trying to locate anything—any sign of movement, any hope that you weren’t about to lose it all in one terrifying moment. You saw Henry, crouched low behind a car several feet away from you. His eyes flicked to you, his shoulders tense as he glanced nervously toward the shadows.

Then it came.

A sound you knew too well. That clicking. That unmistakable, eerie hiss.

The shot had stirred the quiet. Disturbed whatever stupid fucking fragile balance existed between the living and the infected. And now, it was like the world had tilted. The noise was a call—a signal to them, a beacon that had pulled them from the dark corners of hiding.

You didn't need to think, not really. Your bloodied hands reached for your gun, fumbling with the straps, your palms slick with sweat and dirt and blood as you grasped the weapon, fingers shaking. “Fuck, fuck,” you hissed through gritted teeth, heart pounding, lungs struggling to fill with air.

The clicking was growing louder. Closer.

Ellie and Sam, tucked under the car, were still too exposed. They’d been too focused on the immediate danger to realize what was following in its wake.

You threw a glance toward Henry. He was still crouched low, but his eyes were wide, calculating. He didn’t seem ready to face whatever was coming. You had to move—now.

Your mind raced, making split-second decisions. "Ellie!" you whispered urgently, your voice barely above a breath, barely steady. "Sam! Get under the fucking car!" They clearly were under the car, maybe not deep enough for your liking. But, enough you could try to protect them—even though you felt like the granola bar you had eaten earlier was threatening to come up.

But it was too late. You could hear the shuffle now. The guttural moan of a clicker, its skin stretched too thin, its movements jerky and erratic.

You lifted your gun, heart in your throat.

The first clicker appeared from behind the corner, its head jerking toward you, its ears twitching in response to the gunfire. You couldn’t wait for Joel. You couldn’t wait for anything.

You squeezed the trigger.

A shot rang out. Then another. And another.

Your eyes flicked to the car where Henry had ducked, his hands fumbling with the gun, the damn thing jamming at the worst possible moment.

"Shit—" Henry's voice cracked, panic slipping through. Before he could do anything more, a clicker lunged, knocking him to the ground, its claws reaching for him with a speed that made your blood run cold.

You didn't hesitate. He wouldn't survive if you didn't act. Act now. You knew that.

"Stay the fuck here… no matter what happens," you snarled under your breath, eyes locking with Ellie, then Sam—both of them frozen, fear painted across their faces.

You scooted out from under the Jeep without a second thought, body moving faster than your mind could keep up. The air was thick with tension, each movement an instinct born from years of surviving in this hellscape. You dodged each swipe of the clickers clawed hands, your boots skidding against the scorching asphalt as you sprinted toward Henry, gun raised.

Two shots.

The runner dropped with a violent, shrieking twist, its body hitting the ground like a ragdoll, a twitch still running through its limbs. Henry scrambled backward, terrified but alive. His wide eyes met yours as you stood between him and the oncoming wave of infected.

But you were too late to avoid the next one.

You turned, just in time to feel the weight of another runner slam into you. Your body hit the ground with a brutal thud, the air knocked out of your lungs as its rotting hands slammed down onto your chest, the rancid smell of decay filling your nose. "Hnngh—Shit—Shit,"

"Fuck—" you gasped, hands bracing against the creature's matter, fighting to push it off of you. But it was heavy, relentless, its jaws snapping mere inches from your face, each grind of its jaw took an assault on your sanity.

You strained, body screaming in protest, but you couldn't budge it. Not fast enough. Please don't fucking die. Not like this. Not here. Not with so much left to do. So much more love to give—

The gunshot rang out—sharp, clear, and precise. The clicker fell limp on top of you, blood splattering against your face as its body dropped like dead weight. Hands shakily pushing the corpse from your body. Disgust. Blood. So. So much blood.

Joel.

Joel.

Perched high atop the roofline of a half-decayed house, rifle still raised, eyes already scanning for the next threat. The sunset framed him like a silhouette—broad shoulders, sharp lines.

You didn’t have to say anything. Your eyes met, and it was enough. You were okay. He’d made sure of that. Then the moment broke.

Your feet pounded the pavement with bone-jarring force, every step sending a white-hot spike of pain up your leg. Something was wrong—twisted maybe, from when you hit the ground. But there was no time to check, no time to hesitate.

Your hand shot to your pocket, fingers curling around the familiar grip of your knife.

Shhk.

Steel flashed.

You spun with the weight of your momentum, your blade sinking deep into the side of a clicker’s neck. Its screech gurgled, cut off by another brutal stab—this time straight through the temple. It collapsed, stilled, twitching at your feet.

Blood—red and sticky—splattered across your cheek, but you didn’t flinch. You couldn’t. Another one was coming.

Your name.

It cut through the chaos like a thread of light—desperate, urgent, his voice. Then came the crack of Joel’s rifle again, sharp and unforgiving. If it wasn't for the chaos, you could melt the way he says your name. Whether he speaks it. Yells it. Screams it.

Head snapping toward it, heart hammering in your throat. That’s when you saw them—Ellie and Sam—scrambling out from under the Jeep, kicking and clawing to keep the clickers at bay. Sam's small legs flailed wildly, his arms wrapped around Ellie as she swung a rusted pipe with everything she had.

“No, no, no—”

The words tore from your throat before you even realized they were there. You ran, ignoring the throb in your ankle, ignoring the way the asphalt scraped skin from your palms. All you could hear was the screech of infected, the pounding of your heartbeat, and the high-pitched terror in Ellie’s voice.

One clicker lunged, teeth bared, shrieking.

You launched yourself forward.

“Ellie, Run!” you choked, gun raised, finger already squeezing the trigger. A shot cracked through the air—and the clicker fell. But there were more. Too many.

You slid in front of them, shielding them with your body as if your presence alone could hold back the flood. Another shot—from above. Joel was still covering you. Still fighting. Your voice was hoarse, barely breathing, but steady:

Your voice came out cracked and raw, nearly swallowed by the chaos around you—but firm.

“When I say run, you run, okay?”

Ellie’s head jerked toward you, eyes wide and panicked, already shaking with refusal. “What? No—what?!” she shouted, voice climbing in fear.

You turned to her, locking eyes. “Ellie.” Your tone sharpened, louder this time—louder than you’d ever used with her before. “When I say run, you run.”

She narrowed. Stunned into silence.

“You run straight for that house,” you ordered, jerking your chin toward the far end of the street where Joel was still firing from the rooftop, eyes tracking every move you made. “You run to Joel, and you don’t look back. Do you hear me?”

A heartbeat. Then another. Ellie’s breath hitched.

You didn’t wait for her to answer.

You turned just enough to glance at Sam, who was cowering behind her. “Stick close to her, kid. Don’t let go. She's got you."

Your eyes returned to the horde. Infected, crawling out of alleys, from buildings, drawn by gunfire and blood.

Your eyes swept the chaos, every twitch and shuffle of the infected becoming part of a brutal rhythm—an equation of violence and instinct.

In. Out. One lunges left. Four break right. Three sweep in on a diagonal path. If I let them move first… I can flank. I can cut through. I can distract them.

“Run.” The word slipped from your mouth like a breath, but Ellie heard it. And she didn’t hesitate.

You caught a final glimpse of her grabbing Sam’s hand, sprinting toward the house with everything she had. Your heart twisted—just for a second—but there was no time to feel it.

Gun raised, you pressed forward, bullets cracking through the noise. You weaved through the maze of rusted-out cars, ducking low behind an old van, then leaping out with your blade when your clip ran dry. One slash, then a stab—movement smooth, second nature.

Henry came into view. Perched on top of a rust-eaten sedan, arms swinging wildly with a broken pipe, screaming more from fear than rage. He was out of ammo. Cornered. Desperate.

You pushed harder.

"Fuck, hold on!" you shouted, slicing through the last runner that blocked your path.

Another shot cracked behind you—sharp, controlled. Joel. Still covering you, watching your blind spots, refusing to let anything touch you.

You barely flinched.

Your mind raced. No clean line. No clean shot. Henry wasn’t going to last much longer. You needed to be the distraction. The bait. He had someone. He had Sam. He needed to be with Sam.

Your hand dove into your pack, fingers fumbling until they gripped the dirty cloth you used to wipe the blood off your face—sticky, stained, but strong. You wound it tightly around your wrist, your knife clenched in your palm for force.

You spotted the car.

Then you held up your arm.

Glass exploded as your wrapped hand slammed through the window of the rusted-out vehicle, pain shooting up your arm like lightning. The noise echoed through the air, high and jarring, piercing through the groans and screeches.

The horde turned. Heads snapped. Clicks halted.

You had them.

They moved as one—fast, frantic, hungry—but they moved away from Henry.

And toward you.

You practically whimpered, backing up with your knife poised, every nerve and muscle screaming in your body. Screaming. The ankle you had twisted earlier sending white-searing hot pain after every muscle movement.

Shit.

a/n: omggg, stop playing hero.. ur gonna get yourself killed.. smh.. 🙄.. kidding, but hi this series is so fun to write... pls don't be afraid to give any feedback or comments <3 also next chapter is joels pov!! yaay! angst!!! sadness!! yearning!! he does the darcy hand flex!!

tag list 1/50: comment if you would like to be tagged for updates!

[cherryvinyl-777]

I Like Me Better When I'm With You

Part 4- The Final Chapter

I Like You Better With Flowers

Summary: After the events of Dina's party, you decide once and for all that Ellie Williams has to be the worst fake girlfriend alive. When an unexpected guest comes knocking, you're forced to open your door- and your heart.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol usage

Based on the book/move series To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before

Song recommendation:

2 days after the party.

Sunday, 3:54 PM

Ellie's POV.

Two days since the party. Two days since Ellie had completely blown it, in every single way possible. I mean, she'd always considered herself to be above average with the ladies, but apparently when it came to you, there was something she just couldn't make sense of. Maybe it was because you were a decent human and she was used to blonde playgirls- but no, that couldn't be it!

Ellie's mind raced as she texted you for the seventh or eighth time today.

Obviously, Ellie felt bad. It was just that she had always had it pretty easy when it came to girls. How could she not? She was the epitome of a small-town masc, and although that meant girls at school would generally gravitate towards her, she also has had her fair share of heartbreaks from "curious" straight girls.

It was a new kind of feeling she was having towards you. There was some sort of protectiveness there- it was probably just because the two of you had known each other since primary school. She assumed you didn't at all remember, but Ellie used to have a fat crush on you all through fourth to sixth grade. You know how boys would chase the girls at recess and tug on their ponytails? Ellie's job was to chase the boys away from you. And then proceed to tug on your ponytail.

Habits die hard.

Cliche, she knows, but girls seemed to love her rom-com bullshit.

After grabbing her phone, Ellie rushes out of her room and past her dad Joel- who she had drunkenly explained her situation to last night, earning her a tough love speech about, well, basic human decency. It seemed to knock some sense into her, but she knew she was still in for it.

Sliding on her converse and quickly tying them, she tries (and fails) to ignore a quiet chuckle from Joel as he sips coffee from a mug in the room over.

Tugging the laces tight, Ellie can't help but yell, "What is it now?", her hand on the front door knob. After a few seconds of silence, Joel responds. "From what I remember about that Y/N from when you two were drawing with chalk, she's always had a soft spot for you. And don't think I don't remember the days when you liked her the same you liked that one Cat-" Joel chuckles, and Ellie could practically see his amused smirk through the wall.

"It's not like that- you know that," Ellie practically grumbles, turning the doorknob and pulling it open just enough to let the April golden sun stream through.

"I may be old, but I ain't an idiot, Ellie," The pepper-haired man snorts, making Ellie leave with a final groan, the wooden door closing behind her.

Sunday, 4:37 PM

Y/N's POV.

You were purposefully ignoring her. I mean, who did she think she was? Any and all feelings that may have...spilled over at Dina's house party were officially gone. 100% gone.

So why did your heart skip a beat every time your phone buzzed that afternoon?

And why didn't you hate Ellie?

Whatever it was, you knew you weren't ready for that internal conversation.

So, instead of dealing with your feelings, you picked up your latest romance novel- a story of two lifelong next door neighbours who fight over a parking spot. Yes it was sappy, and definitely unrealistic, but that didn't stop you from devouring every page.

It was hard not to eat up the grand romantic gestures and first "I love you"'s because the reality of real life romance, well, depressing to say the least.

So you read, your phone already having been on do not disturb to prevent any interruptions.

Not 10 minutes later, a knock at your front door pulls you out of your trance, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Your parents were out of town- and they didn't inform you of any packages meant to arrive, so who would be knocking at 4:30 on a Sunday?

Closing your book and laying it down, you swing your legs over the side of your bed, the sheets and pillow cases adorned with a baby pink tint.

You make your way out of your room and down the hallway, walking over to the front door in a pair of light brown bunny slippers. You open the door, and standing in a pair of baggy blue jeans and a dark green flannel was Ellie. Ellie, holding a bouquet of spring-scented tulips, an almost...nervous grin on her face.

Before you can form any kind of reaction, Ellie is right back to normal as her face contorts to her usual cocky smirk, "I like your bunny slippers."

Ellie's POV.

Fuck, Ellie was nervous. Despite the aggravating smirk she had plastered on her face, Ellie Williams was absolutely terrified to be standing in front of you right now.

It was uncharacteristic for her, as Ellie always felt in control of any situation thrown at her. But lately when it came to you, she's been completely at a loss. It could have something to do with the way you tuck your hair behind your ears when you're laughing, or maybe the way you roll your eyes to distract Ellie from the fact that you're blushing every time she compliments you. Or maybe it was how Ellie was totally and unconditionally whipped for you.

Snapping out of her thoughts, she hands the tulips to you, her expression betraying the nerves welling up inside of the poor girl. A small, real smile forms on Ellie's face as she see's your dumbfound expression.

"C'mon, L/N, I look like an idiot here," Ellie murmurs. She watches as you seem to snap out of your trance, taking the bouquet from her. Ellie internally sighed from relief, running one of her ring covered hands through her short hair which she had even taken the courtesy of brushing for you.

She quickly moves past you as you step aside to let her in, her eyes flicking around your house. She tries to make her steps seem casual, as if she wasn't waiting for you to say something- anything.

When she hears the door close, Ellie is immediately being pulled by the arm up to your room, a grin on her face. "Geez, at least take me out to dinner first", she teases, making you roll your eyes. God, she loved it when you rolled your eyes.

Once inside your room, Ellie's eyes wander along the posters and books lining the walls, creating the physical representation of your mind. She wanted to memorise every inch of it- of you.

"Why would you leave me alone at that party?" Your voice snaps her out of her daze, making her turn towards you, guilt immediately taking over her as she see's the look on your face- the hurt and anger you must feel for her. Fuck, she was an idiot. She knew it, too.

With a few moments to try and put together her thoughts in an attempt to not sound like a complete douche bag, Ellie nervously fiddles with the metal rings on her fingers.

"Listen, L/N- I know it was shitty, and I know I promised not to leave your side-"

"But?" You cut her off, a hard glare set in your stare. Ellie has to hold back the urge to get on her knees and beg for forgiveness.

With a huff, Ellie continues, "There is no but. I was an asshole". Ellie sighs, looking down at her feet and then back at you. "And I'm really sorry." Ellie shifts the weight between her feet. She wasn't used to this- at all. She's never had to be the one crawling back.

When you respond with silence, Ellie continues, "Because when I was talking to Cat, I realised everyone was right. Dina was right, for god sake. She's not good for me, and I realised that last night when the whole time I was in the bathroom with her, I wanted to be right next to you, making you roll your eyes and give me that little half smile thing you do when you think something I said was funny but you just don't want to give me the satisfaction, and-" Ellie pauses when she notices your small smile. With a goofy grin on her face now as well, Ellie says, "You're enjoying this."

She see's you nod and cross your arms, trying not to grin. Ellie can tell. "I'm totally enjoying this. In fact, I don't think I'm ever gonna let it go- every time you see me from now on I'm gonna bring up the fact that-"

Ellie was listening, but not really. Because as soon as she was sure you weren't upset with her, she kind of tuned out and just fought her hardest not to lean in and kiss you, to pour all her unsaid and compressed feelings into this one moment.

"I'm totally in love with you." Ellie cuts you off, staring down at you with a look in her eyes that she's sure Joel would never let her live down. When you don't immediately freak out, Ellie cups your face in her calloused hands and brings her lips to yours.

Y/N's POV

Ellie Williams was kissing you. And not a half-assed sixth grade spin the bottle kiss, a total full on i'm head over heels in love with you kind of kiss. It was making your head spin.

You weren't too out of it not to wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her closer as her mouth moves against yours, the bouquet of tulips forgotten against the floor of your bedroom.

When the two of you pull back, Ellie's grinning from ear to ear.

"I told you not to fall in love with me, L/N" Ellie whispers. Instead of rolling your eyes, you can feel yourself smiling too.

Because you loved Ellie Williams, and right now, you couldn't care less about the contract.

an: i'd firstly like to thank everyone who has been reading and keeping up with this series- it's honestly meant to much to me and i love reading everyone's comments and whatnot <3 this is technically the first full fic i've written and completed, so please keep in mind i'm still new at this! thank you again for everyone who has been patiently awaiting this chapter and i really hope you enjoy it. love everyone who loves this series, and thank you for reading until the end! <3

tag list: @liasxeatt @culuvr @vahnilla @smellovie @usuck @velvetinkbym @marirxse @piercedome @rxreaqia @lovelessswan

[sourinartt]

What are Sakura/SS fans supposed to be coming up with now? ( they are talking about Naruto)

I still don't believe these people really exist, "white man, bitch where?

fetishized wlw, under what circumstances are you saying this? If it's for the Konohamaru Kishimoto scene, it literally explains how Naruto has no sexual desire, no sexual arousal from what he sees, he's just happy for Konohamaru

I can't say the same about your girl, who sexualizes the guy she likes and loves seeing him naked

I guess "sexually harassing women" is because of the Naruto scene in the hot springs when everything involves his homosexual repression and he doesn't even see them

"blatantly obnoxious and selfish" yes of course, the same Naruto who has all his friends present in every fight and thanks them for not leaving him alone, for accepting him, The same Naruto who is grateful to have his friend Sasuke because he is the one who understands him the most, the same Naruto who thanks the entire village for uniting for him despite the cruelty they were at first with him, to his teachers, Jiraiya, Kakashi and Iruka, the same one who wants to take charge against Akatsuki alone because he doesn't want to see anyone hurt, the same one who says he doesn't deserve to have the life he has if his jinchuriki friend is being treated like garbage, Wasn't it the same Naruto who was driven to fight because he saw Sakura hurt? Really? Selfish? Wasn't it Naruto who suppressed Kurama because he hurt Sakura?

their favorite girl can even see it, they are irritating

"Transphobic Naruto" where? I'd like to see it and not have it be another piece of crap made up by them, because Naruto has no problem with what others decide or wear, when Haku confessed to he that he was a man, he didn't say anything bad except that he world was expanded, he has a man who wears a crop top chattering about his penis and he doesn't say anything

I know Sai and Haku aren't transgender, but they would be objectively "weird" and would be singled out in this rotten world. but naruto has no thoughts about that

all this made-up shit because your favorite character is described as terrible is so... 🤦🏻‍♀️

At least they should like a decent character before speaking badly of Naruto's character.

[threbe]

📏THE RULER MLB SEASON 6 REVIEW

we just keep on winning

Thank god we got new writers this season the way the past episodes have been done should have been getting in season 3-5 not know in season 6

So first I'm glad we finally get to see Nathaniel and Mark's families I didn't know Nathaniel was rich cuz like that is an amazing looking home like I think his mom is an architect not sure what his dad does he looks like he's a shady lawyer to be honest with you or maybe he works at some type of accounting or law firm he could be into art as well I'm not sure

I never paid much attention to Nathaniel I always thought the only thing he and I ever had in common is that we like to draw but I never knew I would end up seeing one of my own parents represented in this episode because my dad was exactly like Nathaniel's mom and never wanted me to draw or be in the anime cartoons and was always disapproving he was even like that towards other people's kids it was so rude and annoying which is why we probably still don't talk to this day 😂

I like Mark's parents it's so cute their relationship seem so wholesome and nice it's not just to actually see a decent family that doesn't seem like they have problems cuz even marinette's family even though she has both her parents and her grandparents seem to be getting along even though they're separated and I know nobody likes Mariners Grand dad and I don't either nothing will change my mind about him but at least he's in there in his life and then you got Adrian over there he doesn't have any real family he can depend on besides Natalie and even something shady's going on

I swear to God I would I wish I could like teleport into a show I would become a therapist because you could make top Bank living in this city considering everybody has issues especially family issues you become a family therapist you'll be rolling in dough you wanted the richest people in Paris even the world 😂

🔴

So later on in the episode we switch and we go to the school Marinette has a cold but doesn't want anyone to know again I don't know who these new writers are but thank God because we're not focusing on Marinette I'm be honest with you it's been five to six seasons I don't even know what marinette's favorite color is I'm just going to assume it's pink cuz she wears pink all the time with Adrian is probably green like I know these sound like the most trivial things like what's Adrian's favorite color or food but that is something you want to know about your favorite characters like their birthdays favorite food and hobbies I like that we see other characters mixed in with the classes with the characters we usually see I'm not sure why Zoe and Mark are there considering they're in a grade below everyone else but I remember my school actually did that where we had mixed grades being taught by different teachers cuz I remember when I was in school we had other grades mixed in with our grade

I keep forgetting that kagami goes to their school it's just so odd seeing her there cuz I never really thought about it I thought she went to another school like maybe a private boarding school that was like real strict and I'll probably all girls but looking at the situation she was probably

homeschooled like Adrian and I never thought that that's why I'm glad we're getting these new writers with these episodes because we're exploring more of the home life these characters had that we should have got seasons ago and building more on their characters I also think that us building up with their characters is going to show that even when everything goes down with ladybug and people learn she lied we're going to see that even though these characters depended on ladybug and trust in her it's not going to change their growth or make them think oh I shouldn't do this past because ladybug help me realize it these characters are going to continue down the path there on with or without ladybugs influence

I'm also glad that the kids in this show are supportive of each other in the class cuz in real life you know you would not have been able to get classmates to be this support of our cooperative with each other

I also like that Marinette and adrians aren't in the spotlight like I said or focusing on the other characters like we need Nathaniel struggling to wonder if he wants to do the comic a certain way without judgment from his mom or dad and that's understandable it's a lot of people who struggle with art and don't really like to show it with to people well I do that with my art I don't think I've shown any one of my family my art since I was probably in Middle School

I do like we seen Nathaniel sit there and think and add more to the story that made it even better actually hope that Zack actually would release this comment because it looks so interesting and the art in it is so beautiful

Later on the the next day Nathaniel shows Mark the comic but then he gets home that night and his mom found the comic and then acts well like a mom I kinda had something like this happen to me when I was in 5th grade so I get how pain this is

Mark and Nathaniel basically break up you know that's what this is basically alluding to it feels like a breakup because Nathaniel's parents don't want him writing certain things or writing with Mark

We also see the class attending to the gardens around the school so that's nice to see they have the kids helping out around the school with the gardening and stuff and not just leaving it to the staff

It's always fun to see the way Lila uses the butterfly miraculous she's usually in a ways Gabriel could never even imagine she's so much more creative and I know we're going to have like 14 season possibly a million more but the fact that we're dealing with Lila and she does things so uniquely and we never know when we're seeing her and when we aren't seeing her or possibly people even working for her it's just crazy and I can't wait till we get to the end of this season because it said that once we get to the end of the season and then go back and watch everything we'll just be so surprised at something that's happening with Lila that some type of hidden secret that's in each episode I can't wait

Later after Nathaniel's mom gets akumatized she has it where she uses her abilities on Mark so he and Nathaniel never talk again and it really pissed Nathaniel off

We see ladybug show up Nathaniel goes in transforms and we finally got his transformation which thank God after all these years we finally got it

Have to say I actually like he is the best but I have yet to see Mark's cuz I've always liked Mark's design out of all of the male characters next to maybe Lukas so I'm excited to see his whenever we get his episode or him being a part of the episode and we get to see his transformation I'm also kind of hyped to see julica's transformation because julica's transformation was basically lady noir's transformation and you cannot tell me otherwise they just made a few changes but the rest of that transformation was lady noirs she needs a more original one

Of course like usual Adrian shows up he gets like 2 minutes of screen time is cat noir and then he either has to go be the distraction or he's getting control I swear we have not seen cat noir do squat this season

I like that they've had it where instead of the akuma fights being like they usually are we actually see more of how the characters are powers are utilized I do miss the fusions of the miraculous cuz I would love to see what ladybug whose power is creation and the goat which can create any object it needs and how that would do combined

I'll be honest after ladybug made it seem like she went off of the school grounds and cat noir left I literally forgot about him for like 2 minutes till he came back up behind the bushes and knocked ladybug into the ruler and then she got

I like that these powers are actually smart that the characters get from Lila cuz having it where you could just control them and have them give the miraculous to whoever's akumatized is actually smart hell instead of having cat noir Chase ladybug she should have just took the ring right then it there she would at least have one of them miraculous but of course we're still in the earlier episodes of the season so that's not going to happen

I've always liked ladybugs Lucky charms I specially love the detail on this one with the red around the circles instead of the usual black it's kind of like when ladybug transforms into lady dragon where you have the gold around the spots instead of just being like just black polka dots you have the gold outlining them I also like this armor design as well

So in the end like usual the parent realizes they're wrong marking the thing you'll go up to his room after they get praised for how good their comic is then they sit on the bed and then

Love this page

They start talking and they revealed their identities to each other and it was just the most wholesome cutest thing and I don't care what type of reveal we get with ladybug and cat noir it's not going to top this for me cuz we've seen them get revealed so many times I think we've all just become numb to it and even if this show was ending and it was like the final minute of the show and there were literally saying it was the end and they revealed their identities to each other I don't think we were still believe it because we will look up in a special will come out or a new movie that's Canon and it would redcon the reveal so we just don't believe the reveal anymore thankfully we have this

This was a great episode I give it a 8/10

A lot of us originally thought this was going to be the episode with Miss bustier because again this is another episode we're not sure what episode order this is supposed to be because a lot of us thought the ruler was going to be about Ms bustier and it was going to be about her getting akumatized

because we believe that's the first episode and we noticed that the school even though it's still doing that kids learn what they want and everything is green stuff there are still some cars around Paris and we do see that there are teachers at the school and I believe the kids are still being graded because we've also seen it where the kids are getting homework so I'm thinking in the first episode when Miss bustier gets akumatized parents aren't happy and people are happy about the no car thing so maybe they switch to different type of cars or something and that could involve Tomo making cars for the City of Paris or something who knows

[class1akids]

The izuocha ask just made me remember how bad I feel for tsuyu. She started out as such a promising character and ended as uraraka's sidekick at a gig which makes no sense for her.

There was a time back during kamino when I thought kirishima might end up like this but outside of that arc his character was connected to Mina and not bakugou. He was wasted during the final war but atleast in the epilogue you can see that he's doing great(better than bakugou even) and while they are buddies he's not defined by his friendship with bakugou as Mina is his hero and he has other relationships with fatgum, tamaki, tetsutetsu etc.

Meanwhile tsuyu is just ochakos friend who she complains to and she's ranked much lower than her. That filler of her with Selkie went nowhere and she's just involved in quirk counselling when her domain is clearly the water.

I dont see this much inequality in any of the main boys frienships - todoIida, Kiribaku, dekuiida, tododeku or even bakudeku. There's at least some level of give and take where both parties support/inspire each other. So I don't understand what went wrong with poor Tsuyu where she's always supporting ochako and used to aid her arc but the reverse never happens and in fact tsu's arc is weaker for it. She seemed like one of hori's favourites too at the start and was decently popular.

Sorry for going on a rant about tsuyu though you're a todoroki account but I needed to get my thoughts out since she was one of my fav characters from 1a.

No, I fully understand, as Tsuyu was a favorite of mine in the beginning and I still adore her design.

I think she got a lot of hate for crying after Kamino (and Ochako did support her then - but it was such a contrived conflict in the first place).

I fully agree that she was wasted and being friends with Uraraka was terrible for her character. With her quirk, she is well suited for water rescue. And even if society is healed and crime is down, there will always be people at risk of drowning, so it's not like the demand for her would have disappeared.

Also, considering how Tsu is a heteromorph and Ochako is as conventionally cute as possible, there is a bitter connotation about the "ugly friend" supporting the "beauty" in her love life. Tsu shouldn't be Ochako's sidekick and her being animal-coded makes it even worse, feeling like a princess and her pet frog trope.

So yeah, fully agree. Very sad about Tsuyu's loss of agency in the narrative and yes, their "friendship" is one of the most lopsided relationships in the story.

[raayllum]

Miyana loves her bed.

She'd slept in barracks during her tenure at the Breach, and then thinly cushioned mattresses before and after that, growing up in the Golden Streets of Lux Aurea and then serving as one of the Horns. A high status in Sunfire society didn't necessarily beget softness and luxury (however finely Karim enjoyed dressing) and she's never had less status than she does now, but...

She sleeps in the queens' wide, lush bed all the same, sheets like silk against her skin.

Janai grunts and presses closer as she stirs from on her side, her arm strewn around Miyana's still pudgy stomach; there was less point in keeping her body rigid and poised after the twins and now that the wars were over. The queen pulls her closer, warm lips finding the column of her throat, Janai's eyes firmly shut.

Miyana can't help but chuckle. "I'm afraid the sun persists in rising, Your Radiance."

Janai groans, unrelenting. "It is still early."

Miyana does open her eyes fully, stretching out a hand to the other side of the bed, finding it warm but empty. A quick glance reveals Amaya leaning against the balcony pillar the bedroom opens onto, a smirk on her face and a rejuvenating hot drink in her hand.

She walks and sets it down before signing, as Miyana speaks for Janai's benefit, "Humans have a saying, you know: the early bird gets the worm."

Janai does raise her head at that, throwing both of them a look. "And we'd want a worm because...? Sunfire elves are hardly fishermen."

Amaya sits on her side of the bed, dressed in a button-up shirt and plain pants; that won't do, given Miyana and Janai are far less decent. "If you rise fast enough," Amaya clarifies, not stopping Miyana from reaching for the waistband of her pants. "There may be time for what kept us up so late last night again before the meeting this morning."

Amaya puffs out a laugh when Janai reaches for her too, her wife loosely straddling her and going to unbutton her shirt. "That, I think I can work with."

Or at least they plan to, before one of the twins'—Elio, she thinks, due to the volume of it—lets loose a loud cry.

Janai's hands catch on Amaya's buttons as Miyana releases her pants. Miyana rolls out from the side Janai had vacated, rising and pulling on whichever spare robe is nearer—Amaya's, judging by the smell of incense and shield polish—and doing up the sash.

Amaya joins her for checking on the twins, bringing both squawling babies back to the main bedchamber; the sheets are pooled around Janai's waist as they settle back down altogether, Elio nestled in the crook of Amaya's arm.

The bed is big enough for all of them.

That's Miyana's favourite part.

[afliictionbound]

Working in a bar isn't for the faint hearted. What Caly would consider a 'good day' is a shift with minimal creeps trying to get into her pants, a decent roll of hard-earned tips, and conversation with...Well, someone like Allison, actually. For Caly, one of the greatest appeals of this job is meeting people who have interesting life experiences, or unique personalities -- better still if she meets someone who meets both of those qualifications.

"Oh, trust me -- you'd have to do a helluva lot to make me feel genuinely uncomfortable. I've seen and heard plenty from across the bar." Not to mention the pretty privilege. Caly's tolerance for bullshit and crude behavior is substantially higher for someone with a face card like Allison's...But uh -- probably best not to divulge that, huh?

At least, not so early into the night.

"God, you really want to know...? Usually it's something from the grocery store -- whatever red box wine I can get my hands on. If I'm out with friends or something, I can be convinced to do shots -- vodka, not tequila. Too many bad decisions have been made under the influence of tequila."

"Hm, maybe one day you'll find out," they smiled briefly, before taking a small sip of their drink. "It is tasty," they added after a moment, "and honestly my biggest concern is that if I get too drunk I might just objectify you. I've been led to believe that's terrible manners when you're dealing with someone who is working and can't necessarily tell you to fuck off."

They tilted their head briefly, watching light catch Caly's hair and chuckling. "That said, I don't feel like I'd mind if you told me to fuck off, as long as you weren't kicking me out. So I'm aiming for good behaviour. It's rare."

Taking another small sip of their drink, Allison gave an absent hum. "What about you? All the flash and performance of it, but what's your drink of choice? Something fancy? Something simple?"

[zoe-oneesama]

Also, curiosity, what’s your take on Amelie’s personality for Scarlet Lady? Just curiosity. Cause siblings in canon are usually opposites. So, this mean SL!Amelie, instead of main character syndrome, has background character syndrome? Or low self-Steem?

I'd put SL Amelie as So Normal. Like she's born into this bizarre English family that still does arranged marriages in this day and age (not totally knocking the practice, but it's definitely implied it's being done against Emilie's and Amelie's wishes), has a super dramatic sister who runs off with her equally dramatic husband (who Amelie barely likes) to become a fashion mogul's actress wife, rubbing elbows with the Mayor of Paris and a bunch of weird rich people who throw bizarre Diamond Dances to show off their kids as if they're a spectacle and holding Eyes Wide Shut parties in their house.

And Amelie's just like "anyway" on the sideline.

[sysig]

Let him dad her!! (Patreon)

[girls-and-honey]

.

[deus-ex-mona]

ok but. my flamin’ hot take is that hw’s tendency to lock lore/character/relationship info behind a paywall kind of does more harm than good when gen 3 (particularly lxl, hiyori, and chizuchan) is involved

[babieken]

Guys is this a safe space?👀

Just stumbled upon a st*y k*dz concrt (2023 i think) on tv and ig it was time for solo perfs bc there was 1 one member on stage singing,(vocals, not rap) standing with a mic stand (so there wasnt any dance or jumping, it was a loud ballad) singing OFF KEY the ENTIRE TIME without any backing vocals...

Out of curiosity, was that a one time thing or do they suck in vocals?

[stuworbutwithchipmunks]

I know ppl couldn't care less about the humans in the cgi movies but Zoe and Dr. Rubin were both hilarious characters and the more i rewatch the movies the more i think about that.

[meowchela]

someones selfship blog got reccomended to me and im ngl scrolling through it is making me wanna make my own. the only problem is all of f/os are really niche and idk if theres much content on tumblr about them if any at all 😭😭😭 plus as someone whos both demiromantic AND in an actual relationship, i selfship in a very particular way/dont think about them as often as other selfshippers do so maybe itd be too much work to keep up an entire blog for stuff i don't think about that often. but on the other hand i could use a cute lil emoji system to denote the tags for my f/os and having a list would be nice because i am kinda forgetful of any f/os i have that arent my big three LMAOO so who knows truly

[zondel]

Thinking back to the Sanrio collab, made me wonder what if the evillous collab had the prsk charas interact with the evillous charas

...but then I realize that maybe the prsk teens shouldn't be trapped in the same sekai with the characters from the 'everyone does evil and abhorrent things' story