#and then later Jess says if he isn’t showing up for her it isn’t a real relationship. I go insane | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rafaslittleboy · 9 months ago

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PROWL

pairing: dad!sonny carisi x reader

summary: your mom and dad argue all the time, and with a little bit of digging, you learn it’s because your dad isn’t being satisfied.

tags: incest, father/child incest, DONT READ IF U DONT LIKE, reader is early twenties so LEGAL AGE, smut, p-in-v sex, clit rubbing, slight fingering, selfish sex (but you like it). Reader has no specified gender but has pussy/clit. Office sex, kissing, your dad and mom don’t get along.

special thanks for @noellawrites for helping me greatly with this fic ❤️

smut below the cut, minors don’t interact & don’t interact if you’re sensitive and don’t like these sort of fics.

The first thing you heard as you entered the apartment was yelling. Your mom scoffing and dishing out a mouthful of verbal assaults on your dad. When you unlocked the door and stepped in, their argument hushed and then as you walked into the open-plan kitchen, the argument ceased to exist. As if it never happened in the first place.

“Is… everything okay?” and you were met with mutual silence. “Dad?

“It’s nothin’.” Dominick replied curtly and turned on the coffee maker. “How was work?” he asked, quick to change the subject.

You could tell when your father was annoyed—nearing angry, he would clench his jaw and the muscles in his arms (which showed under his shirt, rolled up to the elbow). He always tried to not show you when he was in a mood that wasn’t happy, but he was only human. Your mother, on the other hand, was always in a negative mood—nothing was ever good enough for her.

You sighed and put down your backpack and took a seat on a stool at the island. “It was whatever, I hate working nights.”

Sonny turned to you with a fresh mug of caramel flavoured coffee in his large hands. In exchange, you handed him a paper bag containing a pastry that he tended to eat most mornings. Whether you brought one back or he visited you before he got to the courthouse to start his treacherous day.

“Aw, kid, ya didn’t have to.” He always says that, kissing you on the cheek as he takes it from your hands. Your cheeks grew warm. “Thank you, this’ll definitely keep me goin’—really made my mornin’.” and your dad smiled wide at you, the sides of his eyes crinkling.

Your stomach flipped.

Your mom was silent still, angrily making breakfast. Her movements were enough to show you that she was in a mood, and that you should probably stay out of her way for the rest of the day.

Your dad came into your life when you were ten. Ten years after having a meant-nothing relationship with your mom and only when she was running low on money, she reached out and contacted your father for a little child support money. Sonny was shocked at first, finding out he had a kid, but after taking care of new-born Jesse and having his paternal instincts go haywire for a child that wasn’t his; it was like Christmas came early on a Wednesday evening in Spring.

Sonny asked for visitation and your mom agreed, and the first thing he did was look for two-bedroom apartments. Sonny worked overtime in the precinct just so he could afford the extra room, anything for his little angel. And as you grew, you preferred his apartment more and more. He came home late, but he would always enter your room and make sure you were breathing and safe, always leaving a kiss on your forehead.

Somehow within the last eleven years, your mom moved in with Sonny and it was like a nice little family. Sometimes your mom and dad acted as if they were together, sometimes they didn’t.

And as you entered your early twenties, he still did it. As he transitioned from Detective to Assistant District Attorney, he worked even more hours just to support your little family, your mom stopped working and it was up to your father to provide for all of you—so that’s why you took a stupid, underpaying twenty-four-hour internet cafè just to help out with bills.

—

Later on in the evening, you sat down next to your dad in the living room. Your mom was already asleep in their shared bedroom, likely lost in a wine-induced dream.

“What was the argument about? Today?”

“S’nothin’, don’t worry ‘bout it. Ain’t your problem.” And he leaned over to kiss you on your forehead, lingering just a few seconds longer.

“B-but— if it’s you and mom, it is my problem. I’m your kid, I’m the one tying you together,” you sigh miserably.

Sonny turns to look at you with a sad expression before cupping your cheek in his big hand. You were closer to your Dad than your mom, because of things like this; he cared so much about you and she showed it.

He examined the pleading look in your eyes, and he knew you wouldn’t drop the subject until you received a satisfactory answer.

“Your mom ‘n I… we really try. I always do what she wants when she wants it, ‘ya know? But she uses me, n’ then when I want some, it’s like she don’t even wanna look at me—“ he sighed.

“Daddy— you don’t deserve that,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm, sleeves rolled up to his elbow. Your faces were so close, you were glad that the room was dimly lit just enough so your dad couldn’t see the warm blush rising up your cheeks.

“‘S okay, doll. I got you, you’re all I need,” he says with a smile, leaning over to kiss your forehead before getting up to go to his bedroom. You watched him as he walked off and turned to the bedroom he shared with your mom, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

—

You woke up early in the morning to the sound of hushed arguing. Their voices vibrated through the walls like before, and you found yourself closing your eyelids and taking a deep exhale.

It took a minute, you sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes and took a glance at your alarm clock on the bedside table—it was barely over seven in the morning and they were already at each other’s throats.

Your pajamas were a simple set, a cotton t-shirt that was a size or two up from your own size (that was most likely your father’s) and a pair of black cotton shorts; you’d gone to class in worse attire.

Hesitantly, you opened your bedroom door and took a second before you walked to the kitchen where their voices came from. As you entered, your mother turned away from your Dad and bit her tongue and silently and angrily making breakfast as your dad busied himself pouring coffee into his large travel mug.

“Is everything okay?” you asked. You were met from cold silence from your mom, which was the usual in most times. It took a second for your Dad to turn around and give you a tight lipped smile.

“Everythin’s fine, kiddo,” he said, “how’d you sleep?”

“Fine, I guess.” It was great until I was woken up by your constant arguing, you really wanted to say, but you held your tongue and decided to be polite—just like how he raised you to be. Always keep the negative thoughts to yourself.

“I gotta go to work,” he said curtly and kissed your forehead, as he always did.

“Can I come with you?” You asked as he rounded the island to pick up his dark red briefcase. “I dunno, dunno if SVU will need me to do some undercover stuff.”

“Undercover stuff,” your mom tutted and angrily whisked eggs in the pan. “You’re an ADA, you don’t go undercover.”

Sonny shared a glance with you before your mom started again, “there you go, talking about work. Is it because Olivia is there?”

Your mom, Amanda, couldn’t be anymore wrong.

Sonny turns and walks towards the door without saying a word, and you follow.

When you reach the door, you whisper, “can I come with you? Please?”

You knew that if you had your only day off and spent it in the apartment with your mom, she would start on you next—and you really didn’t want to do that.

Your dad takes one last glance at your mom and sighs, ushering you out the door beside him. “Sure, kid. C’mon.” And he ushered you to put on your sneakers and to take your jacket and backpack.

——-

When you reach the eighth floor, Sonny clears a stack of file folders off a spot on his couch for you, giving you a smile as he pats the seat.

“Dad, are you sure there isn’t anything I can do? I hate seeing you and mom arguing like this,” you sigh, bringing up your knees to rest your chin on, your arms wrapping around your calves.

“Baby,” Sonny smiles, “I appreciate your concern but it ain’t somethin’ you can help me with.”

You look at him as he takes a seat in his swivel-chair, and that feeling in your stomach returns. Butterflies, you remember your mom telling you when you were younger, that you’d get butterflies when you liked someone.

Bile rose in your throat with shame.

“You know, I can help with whatever it is. I’m… y’know, older. I’m not little anymore, I’m big.”

Sonny chuckled, smile lines reaching his eyes. “Oh yeah? You’re a big kid?”

“Yup,” you say defiantly, crossing your arms. You notice the twinkle of curiosity in his eye, curious at just how grown up you’ve really become.

“Maybe you’re right.” He smiles at you. In his eyes, you will always be his little angel. No matter how old you get.

Sonny took a second to think, and then he set down his pen. It was a present from Mr. Barba—you had met him when you were younger, often being plopped in his office when your mom wanted to go out for brunch with her friends and your dad worked as a Detective.

“Let me ask ya somethin’, kiddo. Father t’child.” He clears his throat, “N’ you don’t need’a answer, s’totally within your right not to.”

You looked at him, waiting for his question.

“You ever had sex before?”

It was a personal question. You had just turned the legal age to drink alcohol and you barely did that. Sex was something you had only ever done once, and it wasn’t as pleasant as some of the videos you’ve seen.

“Once,” you couldn’t meet his eyes. “It wasn’t good,” you tell him honestly.

“Yeah? Tell me ‘bout that.” And he flicked his file shut and leaned forward on his elbows on his desk. His attention was on you, fully.

“He just… touched me, really. And then he just put it in me and finished.” You put your hands on your bare knees out of nervousness.

“You didn’t… ?”

You shook your head, no. In all the videos you’ve seen, both participants orgasmed and they made it look so good, like it felt amazing. You told him about how it started, how he kissed you and put his hand down your pants and how it all felt so rushed, and when it came to the actual sex; all you had felt a discomfort as the guy who was on top of you pushed inside you and you felt pain, and it rarely felt good.

And your Dad scoffed. “Don’t let boys like that d’that to ya, ain’t right.”

“But I… “ you swallowed, “… maybe I could help you?”

Sonny frowned, confused. “Help me? What do you mean?”

“You could have sex with me.”

Your bold statement was enough to have his eyebrows jump to the top of his forehead, and his mouth hang open slightly in shock. He stood and rounded his desk, closing his open door and flicking the lock, then closing his blinds. “Doll, you can’t say that in the courthouse.”

“I’m sorry—“

“S’fine, just… I’m ya dad,” he started and leaned against the table before you. “Shouldn’t be thinkin’ ‘bout me like that, it’s not right.”

He shamed you into silence, and your skin flushed with embarrassment.

Never in his life did he ever think he would fuck you. Always so keen on raising you to be the smart, level-headed kid you could be. He spent his life’s work going to work to put men away doing exactly what he was about to do.

He put his head in his hands and rubbed his face. Then after a beat, he took his hands off his face and looked at you.

“Doll— I’m gonna help ya out too, okay? Make my lil’ angel feel good. Don’t want ya to be an inexperienced adult,” he says carefully, leaning off from his table and stepping towards you.

“Are you sure? I-I mean, you and mom are having problems and—“

“Stop talking ‘bout ya mom,” he says before capturing your lips in a mesmerizing kiss. Your lips tingle with the force of his lips on yours, his hand coming to cup the back of your head. You kissed him back when he didn’t pull back, and he licked into your mouth and your sigh came out along with a moan.

You felt him smile into the kiss. “Does kissin’ me feel good?”

You swallowed, your eyes shaky as you kept your eyes on your dad. He was so close to you, leaning over you and your lips still touching. “It… it’s better than my other kisses.”

Sonny cocked his head and his eyes glanced down to your black cotton shorts, biting his lip at the lewd thoughts running through his head. He allowed his fingers to trace the band of your shorts and inch them down just a bit. “‘M just more… experienced, that’s what ya need.”

“y—you?”

And that was exactly right. That’s what you needed. Your Daddy.

He kissed you again, but this time it was to take his time and to memorise your taste, to learn the sounds you made when something felt good—and you made these little high pitched sounds—squeaks—when he kissed you harder, pushing you against the back of the leather couch.

He broke the kiss temporarily to place both of his large hands on your hips. “Ain’t gonna make ya do somethin’ ya don’t want to, baby,”

Sonny knew the risks, even as lust clouded his brain. Engaging in incest in the courthouse with his own child was one risk, but ruining your relationship with him was another. He would hate to ruin things with his only child; to have to run back to Amanda and her fatherless children just to play ‘happy family’ again.

“I—I want it,” you whimpered, “I— I want to do… this with you.” and you meant it. Your feelings for your Dad had only grown so much more since he put his lips on yours and kissed you properly.

Sonny groaned and bit his lip, his cock swelling. “Say it again, baby.” his voice was low, enough to be a growl.

Your body shook with adrenaline and nervousness. You held your breath as his big, warm hands ghosted over your soft, smooth skin.

Your Dad slipped his fingertips into the band of your shorts and pulled down your little lounge shorts the rest of the way, pulling them over your sneakers and letting them drop to the floor. The only thing between you two was your flimsy underwear, and he could see a very clear wet spot dampening the fabric.

“Haven’t seen that in a while,” he said and the tip of his finger prodded the damp patch. He didn’t miss your gasp, how your hips jutted upwards in need and selfish want. If he had his way he would take his time. Sink to his knees, shove his mouth in your pussy and taste his little kiddo’s juices.

Your Dad saw your nervous expression, and it took him until only then to realise that this would be the first proper sex experience you would have (with your own father, at that, it’s probably making you feel under pressure to do good.)

“Hey… “ he cupped your burning cheek, “s’okay… d’you wanna see mine first? just t’make you feel better?”

You nodded carefully, soon enough leaning into the palm of his hand. He tapped your cheek before he took his hand and put it to his belt, undoing the buckle and pulling it through the hoops and letting it drop to the floor beside your cotton pyjama shorts. His long, deft fingers went to his fly and unzipped it, then he pulled out his cock out from inside his dress pants. Your eyes were glued to the large appendage and you swallowed your saliva in nervousness.

Sure, you had only seen one penis before, but it was tiny, shriveled— nothing like your dad’s long, curved cock. It was not hard enough to stay up, flaccid only just enough that it dangled between his thighs.

“You okay?” He asked, and you nodded again; “uh huh,” and you couldn’t find the strength to take your eyes off him.

His blue eyes bore into yours as his fingers nudged your underwear, a similar situation to his removal of your shorts.

“This okay, doll?” he asked. Once you began to nod, he slid your undies all the way down. The cool air of your dad’s office hit your sensitive little pussy and you shivered, earning a smile from your dad.

“Don’t worry, doll. S’cold, same thing happens to me,” he gestures, and you look down right at your own dad’s hard cock.

“Can—can I touch it?” You asked. It was hard to believe that you were made from that, that at one point just over twenty years ago, you had come out of him and it was just staring right back at you.

“Sure.” Sonny smiled, and he took your hand and helped you wrap your small fingers around him in a light grip. The sudden pressure alone was enough to make him grumble deep in his chest.

In the videos you had seen on the internet, you knew how to copy hand movements—so you moved your hand up and down his cock, slowly, testing the waters. You didn’t see it, but the man who made you; his head tipped backward at the feeling of your hand squeezing his cock.

“does it—does this feel good?”

“Kid, you got no fuckin’ idea.” He groans and he looks down at you, cock barely an inch away from your innocent face. “N’ expert,” he praises.

After a while, his need to be inside you grew by each passing second. Your pussy was bare on the leather, making a small clear puddle of your arousal on the worn leather of his couch.

“S’enough, baby.” and he took your hand off his hard cock, no longer any sort of flaccid, instead as hard as he’s been in years.

You moved yourself so you were leaning back, and he followed you and pulled your hips down—your legs and ass dangling off the couch and his arms supporting you. “Makin’ me fuckin’ crazy, baby, gonna fuck you deep right here.”

You let out a breathy laugh that was cut short as he forced his tongue in your mouth; working overtime as his hand made its way to your wet pussy and rubbed the seam with his fingers. Gasping into his mouth, moaning lightly (aware of your noise, knowing there were people actually doing their job in the courthouse) as his long fingers stimulated your clit and your little wet hole.

“Makin’ me do things a Daddy shouldn’t do,” he growled, “you eva’ touch yourself like this? ‘magining your Dad gettin’ you ready for his cock? huh? little baby?”

You never once imagined what his dirty talk would be like, so filthy in your ear. But he was right, there had been a few times you’ve imagined him touching you late at night. Disgusting thoughts that clouded your mind in the devil's hour.

He was so quick but gentle, giving you attentive kisses and soothing your nerves as he prepared you to take your dad’s cock.

You whined when you felt his hard cock bump against your inner thigh, eyebrows furrowing. His fingers on your clit felt good and his tongue invading your mouth made you drool.

Sonny peeked down to where his erect cock was positioned between your legs. For a single second, he hesitated—it was as if his mind came back to him.

He can’t do this, it isn’t right—he’s your father. The tip of his cock leaked a stray tear of pre-cum and his cock throbbed in his grip. Your pussy was right there, barely an inch away from pushing inside your tight little hole, and he knew the minute he pushed inside you, he would never be able to stop.

Already imagining the next time he’ll get to fuck you. Maybe later on in the night, sneaking into your room while your mom slept and clamping a hand over your mouth while he finally got to taste your pussy.

His thoughts left him the second they rushed through his mind, and he pushed his hips forward and the tip of his cock notched your wet hole and his fingers stopped rubbing you, settling on a slow rhythm.

Your arm snaked around his neck and pulled him impossibly close to you as he pushed his cock inside you. Your mouth was tight against the fabric of his dress shirt, eyes squeezing shut as the tip of him breached you.

There was still an inch of him hidden beneath his slacks, the cons of having a quickie in his office is that he couldn’t push the entirety of himself inside you. He was fully clothed in a three piece suit he couldn’t just remove very easily.

Your own father’s cock inside you, the same cock that made you was inside you. And that kept running through your mind.

But for the most part, he was fully inside you. And your thighs trembled and shook at the fact your Dad was inside you.

“S’okay… s’okay—“ Sonny choked as he turned his head so he could mumble against the side of your lips. “Just hold onto daddy.”

And you did, your little fingers digging into his shoulder blade as he gave an experimental light thrust of his hips and he groaned, it came deep from his throat and his hand tight on your thigh spread your leg wider as he fucked his cock into you, finding his rhythm inside you.

“Takin’ ya dad’s cock so fuckin’ well.”

Your pussy clenched on him at his words. Reminding you that he wasn’t some guy from work—that you were falling apart on your dad’s cock.

“J—Jesus, d—dad,” you moaned and bit onto his shirt for some sort of stability. His cock was pumping inside you and your bare thighs were met with the soft fabric of his dress pants, muffling what would’ve been harsh, wet slaps of flesh meeting in a selfish hurry. “F—feels so good.”

If you were worried about his co-workers hearing what was happening inside his office before, you definitely weren’t now. Muffling your moans in his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut as the pressure in your pussy built and built with the faint pain of the tip of his cock thumping against your cervix.

“D—dad,” you gasped, “f—fuck, I’m—o—oh my g—god, it—“

Sonny pressed his forehead against yours once more, murmuring against your lips, “gonna cum, baby? Cummin’ already on ya daddy’s cock?”

He could tell by with how your fingers dug into his shoulders, how he could feel the drool you had left behind on his chest and with how fucking tight your pussy was gripping him; getting tighter by the second, almost trying to push his cock out of you.

His thumb worked harder on your hard clit, pressing down and circling in harder circles. Where his hand was, your pussy was so wet, dripping onto the couch like a burst pipe and covering his dress pants (and he thanked Barba for telling him to always keep a spare suit in his office, in case of emergencies. And fucking his own flesh and blood child to oblivion and back was one of them.)

“D—dad—daddy—dad,” you babbled against his soft lips, “can I—p—please?”

Oh, how sweet. You asked permission, always a polite kid. He wonders who taught you that—your manners, that is, and it was him. Your mom would’ve raised you to be a bully if he didn’t get there when he did.

His cock fucked harder into you and as a result it had the top of your head hitting the soft cushion and your moans grew louder but were still muffled into his shoulder.

“C’mon, baby, please fuckin’ cum—need’a feel it, honey, let ya dad feel ya cum—“

Sonny’s words spurred you on, his thumb rubbing hard circles on your clit and his cock pounding into the very end of you was just enough to set you over and you came all over his cock with a muffled squeal, eyes clenched painfully shut and your arms pulled him impossibly closer to you. Your pussy tightened almost painfully on his cock and the pressure was just enough to push him out, but his greedy cock fought against it and and pushed and fucked you through your first orgasm by a cock.

Little squirts of liquid left your pussy and splattered on his dress pants, not enough to turn heads if anyone walked in, but enough to make your Dad moan like a whore.

“That’s it—what a good fuckin’ kid, doin’ as you’re told—makin’ me feel so good.”

You weren’t your mother—you were his perfect little angel that he made himself, in his image. And that alone was enough to convince himself not to pull out—if there were consequences of his actions, he’d allow those consequences with open arms.

Not even a second later, you felt his cock pump inside you harder and faster—then you felt the vibration of his deep, throaty groan against you and felt the warm spurts of his pent up cum inside you.

“Daddy,” you whimpered.

“That felt fuckin’ good,” he groaned and tipped his forehead onto your shoulder, his thrusts slowing as he rode out his orgasm inside you.

He felt better than he had in a long time. He just now realised he didn’t need your mother, he never did. As long as he had you, he had an obedient little kiddo to take their daddy’s big cock. He knew you wouldn’t miss an opportunity to show your dad how grown up you really were.

It took him a minute to pull out of you, your pussy gripping him and milking him for everything he has and he didn’t want to leave the hot, wet pussy that he took part in making. Fuck, that thought alone was enough to give a hard twitch into his softening cock. But when he did, his cum spilled out with him and onto the already wet leather of the couch.

“Look’a that, baby, look how much you milked outta me—greedy little thing,” and his hand smoothed over your thigh to insert a finger into your sore and spent pussy, plugging his cum back inside you. Your hole clenching around him, even more so when his thumb takes place back on your oversensitive clit.

“D—dad,” you gasped and put your hand on his wrist. “That—“

“‘Know what it is, honey,” and he leaned over to grab your underwear and slid them back up your legs, back where they once were before he decided to fuck you in his office of law. Patting your now clothed pussy, he stood on shaky legs and tucked himself away.

He leaned back down to press his lips to yours, “done me real proud, kiddo, think you deserve a nice nap, huh?” he spoke as he nuzzled his nose with your own and you smiled, lazily biting your bottom lip.

“Still feels like you’re inside,” you say in a whisper.

“Means I fucked ya too good,” and he kisses your nose and then your lips—as if it was second nature. “Now get some sleep, I’ll wake ya for lunch.”

—-

At the dinner table that night, the tension was thick. Your dad had slaved away on the stove making a chicken dish, (with your ‘help’, after the events of earlier in the day, you became so clingy, wanting to be beside him if he couldn’t be inside you) but your mom wanted steak and that was enough for her to give him disrespectful comments on how it tasted, how she preferred her best friends husband’s steak casserole compared to Sonny’s Italian ‘chicken-thing’.

His hand settled on your thigh beneath the table, Your hand was over his, entangling your fingers together.

#law and order svu #peter scanavino #rafael barba x reader #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #rafael barba #raul esparza #sonny carisi imagine #dominick carisi #dominick carisi imagine #peter scanavino x reader #Peter scanavino imagines #law and order imagines #incest fic #parent x child fic

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nickeverdeen · 2 months ago

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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.

#ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #the last of us 2 #tlou2

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multiple-spouse-wounds · 3 months ago

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I want to talk about Jesse's possum story from Fly. most of this is just word vomit from my notes so it might not 100% make sense just bear with me here.

We know Jesse's aunt Ginny died of cancer. It's not really discussed much in the show, but it seems to have affected him quite a lot, especially in his relationship with Walt. In Fly, Jesse is particularly thrown off by Walt’s sudden obsession with the fly because of how much it mirrors Ginny’s reaction to the possum (“Scrabble”). In both cases, a person Jesse looks up to, who has a tentative health condition, is being driven mad by an animal trapped in an enclosed space. Both of them are desperately trying to regain control over a situation where they have none – for Ginny, this is her cancer, for Walt, this is his life of crime – and going to more and more extreme lengths to do so.

Eventually we find out that Ginny’s obsession was caused by brain cancer. This does two things. First, it leaves us to wonder what’s wrong with Walt – what’s causing him to act like this? His cancer is in remission, so it can’t be (or probably isn’t) brain cancer. This question is answered later, in the scene where Jesse kills the fly. Walter is experiencing guilt and regret for the first time in the show. He very rarely experiences remorse, so of course this version of him is alien both to us and to Jesse. By the end of the episode, the fly, symbolising Walter’s guilt, is killed, and he returns to normal.

Second, it gives us insight into Jesse’s emotional state. His trauma from his aunt’s death is being triggered, which is why he acts how he does in Fly. Ginny died when he was much younger and had no experience of such a situation, which rendered him powerless to react. Now that he is older, he sees the same situation playing out in front of him and is desperate to change it. He tries to help Walter, by trying to kill the fly, and by drugging him to sleep (the drugging also mirrors how Ginny was given antipsychotics). He is both trying to resolve the situation and soothe the pain it is causing.

All in all, I really like this scene for what it symbolises and how it gives us an insight into Jesse’s past experiences of cancer and how they affect his interactions with Walt. I feel like Aunt Ginny isn’t really explored that much but she really does have a massive impact on this part of the show. And despite what Walt says, there IS a discernible point to this story :)

#flyposting #can you tell i'm rewatching it rn #i'm so obsessed with this scene it's my roman empire #or you could say it's my fly #hahahahaha #breaking bad #walter white #jesse pinkman #analysis

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justagalwhowrites · 2 years ago

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Lavender - Ch. 21

When someone you dread comes to the QZ, Joel takes matters into his own hands. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-20 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Description of past SA, PTSD response, torture. No use of Y/N. 18+ only, minors DNI!

Length: 7.2k

Friday, April 17, 2015 - Four Years Later

“So you’re not going to be Dr. And Mr… Fuck, what was his name again?” Andrew snapped off a bite of jerky.

“His first name was Simon,” you said. “I’m not actually sure if I ever got his last name.”

“So you’re not going to be Dr. And Mr. what’s-his-name why?”

“Because he had a weird problem with the fact that he’d sometimes have to share a bed with my best friend,” you shrugged.

Jess groaned.

“He was fine with it at first when he assumed the best friend had a vagina and he thought he could finagle a three way out of it,” you said, taking a drink of water. “Got a little less OK with it when I said the name Andrew…”

“You guys don’t even do that much anymore!” Jess said. You and Andrew both looked at her for a moment. She sighed. “You do that every time I go outside the QZ don’t you.”

“It’s like you don’t know me at all,” Andrew kissed her temple. She sighed, leaning into him.

“Almost like he’s attached to his wife and has a hard time coping when she’s out dealing with the end of the world,” you said. “He’s just strange that way…”

She rolled her eyes.

“Who knew I’d be a part of the codependency club…. Well, hopefully now that the new batch of guards are coming in they won’t need me as much,” she sighed. “They’re supposed to be getting a few other people who are equipped to go help with field psych evaluations with this bunch…”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Andrew muttered. “They’re only after muscle, they don’t give a shit about anything else.”

“Isn’t this group supposed to be pretty big, though?” You asked. “We’ve got Marta coming in to help with processing for health screenings in like an hour…”

“You say that like it’s not going to just be more goons,” Andrew said. “With all the shit that’s going on… There was a shoot out just a few blocks away the other day. FEDRA’s losing their grip.”

“They ever bug the clinic break room we’re going to be next on the executioner’s block,” you muttered.

“Makes me nervous, talking about this stuff here,” Jess said. “No one likes it but…”

You were quiet for a minute.

“Any other dates coming up soon?” Jess changed the subject. “I still liked Sean…”

“He did stick around for a bit,” Andrew nodded. “He lasted, what, four months?”

“Yup,” you nodded. “I liked him, too. But, you know…”

They didn’t respond. They didn’t need to. Sean had said “I love you” and had expected to hear it back. You just weren’t comfortable lying to him. He didn’t stick around long after that.

“Nothing on the books yet,” you shrugged. “We’ll see what happens.”

“You’re just going to end up fucking Tommy again,” Jess narrowed her eyes at you.

“Yeah, I don’t know if I should be proud of you for figuring out how to have casual sex or if I should be frustrated with you figuring out how to do it with just one person,” Andrew said. You glared at him. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s very on brand for you…”

“Hey,” you cut him off. “Why are we talking about my sex life? I don’t get to talk about your sex life…”

“Ours is boring,” Jess shrugged. “Yours is way more fun.”

You weren’t sure if fun was quite the word you’d use for it.

Yes, you’d managed to branch out a bit since your split with Tommy. It took a few months but, when a guy in line for rations had asked if you wanted to hang out sometime, you’d said yes. Sure, you ended up having nothing in common with him but it was a start. Something you were now comfortable doing. Now you were having dates somewhat regularly. Even if you weren’t always sure you understood the point of it.

You’d only been broken up with Tommy a few months when he showed up at your door late one night, just before curfew. You were already in bed when he knocked on your door. You frowned. Even months later, you recognized the knock. You all but jumped out of bed and tore the door open.

“Hey Kid,” he gave you his signature, cocky smile. His bicep was bloody.

“Of course you’re bleeding,” you sighed, opening the door. He smiled sheepishly but came inside. “You’re always fucking bleeding.”

He sat on your bed where he always had as you’d stitched him up and shrugged out of his shirt, hissing as the fabric passed over the cut on his arm. You gathered the supplies and turned on enough lights that you could see what the fuck you were doing.

“Who’d you piss off this time?” You asked, cleaning the knife wound. It was jagged.

“The usual,” he said. “Believe it or not, this isn’t how I wanted to see you again…”

“Weird that you still go out and get into trouble then,” you muttered, checking the wound before starting to suture.

“I’ve been thinking about coming by, saying hi for a few weeks,” he said. “Missed you. Weird not seein’ ya all the time. This was just… the push I needed.”

“Everyone else OK?” You asked, glancing up at him.

“Fine,” he said. “Tess made it out unscathed. Joel’s leg is better. He just got decked in the face this time out, which he probably deserved for somethin’ else stupid he’s done lately.”

You laughed a bit at that.

“Probably did.”

By the time you’d stitched him up, it was past curfew.

“I can take the couch,” he said, but you waved him off.

“We shared a bed for a year,” you replied. “Just shower first, you’re gross.”

You were reading when he climbed into bed beside you.

“Kind of a weird place to ask it but, think we could be friends?” He said. “Meant it when I said I missed you. Don’t expect anything else but I’d like to be friends.”

You looked at him for a second, the shadow of familiar longing in you. You ignored it.

“I’d like to be friends, too.”

And you were just friends, for a while. It took some adjustment but you liked Tommy as a friend. He was funny, he shared a lot of the concerns you had about FEDRA and what was going on in the world, he was unfailingly kind.

A few weeks after you broke up with Sean, the two of you were sitting on your couch, watching a movie Tommy had found on his last trip outside the QZ, Cruel Intentions, something you’d never bothered to see before. You liked it well enough but the sex scenes… you hadn’t had sex since the split with Sean. The scenes were making you fidget on the couch, rearranging yourself to try to get some kind of relief from the ache between your legs.

The movie finally, mercifully, ended and Tommy looked at you.

“Proposition,” he said.

“Shoot.”

“We have sex.” You raised your eyebrows, he pressed on. “As friends. We’ve already done it, I have a good time, you have a good time…”

“You’ve just got a one track mind,” you rolled your eyes at him.

“No,” he said. “I can just tell when you’re turned on and I’m tryin’ to be a gentleman.”

You glared at him.

“No strings, no pesky feelings, just sex when we both want it,” he said. “That’s it.”

You thought for a second. Could you do that? You supposed the last time you’d had sex with Joel it had been just sex. You’d kind of hoped it would be more but you knew that it wouldn’t be.

“Just sex?” You asked.

“Just sex,” he nodded.

Just sex with Tommy turned out to be pretty damn fun. It wasn’t something you did all the time but it was enough to you from being too focused on the sex part on the rare occasions you did try to date someone new. It was easy enough to cut off when he found someone he was interested in or you did and easy enough to fall back into when you were both single again.

It was during one of the “just sex” periods that Tommy brought you to meet some of his… friends.

He’d just gotten back from a smuggling run and had a pack full of stuff when he showed up at your door with a broken finger.

“Figured why try to fix it myself,” he teased you. You just rolled your eyes and let him in.

“So I’ve been thinking,” he said slowly as you set his finger. You just raised your eyebrows at hm. “I’ve got to run this stuff to a meeting tomorrow night. You should come.”

“What kind of meeting?” You frowned.

“Just some like minded folk,” he shrugged.

“You’re being awfully cagey, Miller,” you said. He shrugged again. You smirked a little. “I’m not going to a swingers club with you…”

“Damn, killing all my dreams here, Kid,” he teased back.

The next night, he came by the clinic as you were finishing, the pack on his back, and led you across town to a building that FEDRA hadn’t done anything with yet.

Your body tensed. It reminded you of being outside the QZ, like a clicker or a raider was going to jump you at any second.

“You’re OK,” he said quietly, leading you down a hall. There was a firefly insignia painted on the wall where he turned.

“Tommy,” you hissed. “Are you mixed up in…”

“Just listen to what they have to say,” he said quickly. “It’s not what you think.”

“Don’t know what the hell kind of death wish you have,” you muttered. He ignored you.

The meeting was informal. It was Tommy, a handful of other people and a woman named Marlene who seemed to be running things. They didn’t seem to want to talk openly with you there, but they seemed to have enough understanding of whatever the fuck it was they were doing to not need to say much explicitly. Something told you that Tommy had mentioned bringing you along before.

After the meeting, you hung back with Tommy and waited until Marlene was alone.

“This is the friend I told you about,” he said, nodding at you. Marlene looked you over.

“So you’re the doctor,” she said.

“So they tell me.”

“Tommy says you’re doing some research,” she said. You glanced at him. “I’d be curious to learn more.”

“Not a lot to say at the moment,” you shrugged. “I’m trying to use some preexisting research on slowing the growth of fungal infections to see if I can develop a way to stop cordycep progression after transmission. Like an emergency injectable or, maybe someday, a vaccine. So we can have time to excise or amputate the infected tissue. I haven’t found anything that works yet, though.”

“What if you thought a little bigger,” Marlene said.

“Bigger.”

“Bigger,” she nodded. “Bigger like a cure. Like it doesn’t matter if you’re bitten beyond needing some stitches. Bigger like we get our fucking planet back.”

You laughed for a moment before you realized that she was being serious.

“You’re talking about developing a cure for cordyceps,” you looked at her.

“I am,” she said. “And I’d like your help. You don’t have to only develop what FEDRA wants…”

“FEDRA barely tolerates the work I’m doing now,” you scoffed. “I’m not developing this for them, I started doing this on my own and my boss was willing to let me use some facilities to do it in…”

“But a cure…”

“A cure is so far beyond unlikely,” you said. “We have nothing to build a cure off of. Right now, I’m looking for a bandaid…”

“Bandaids don’t do much for bullet holes,” she replied.

“When you’re the one patching people up, you come talk to me about bandaids,” you snapped. “Until then, let the professionals handle it.”

She laughed darkly.

“Didn’t think you’d be such a supporter of FEDRA,” she said.

“I’m not,” you replied. “I’m just a realist. I wish FEDRA just didn’t exist but they do and we’re stuck in the reality we’re stuck in. I’m not going to sit here and wait for some magical cure to manifest, I’m going to work with what I have and try to do what I can to make it better.”

She considered you for a moment.

“If your research pans out,” she said. “Would you consider sharing the formula with us?”

“Yes,” you said. “Of course. I plan to give it to anyone who asks for it. A hope for survival shouldn’t be a tool for power, I don’t intend on just giving it to FEDRA to leverage as they see fit.”

“We have a lab,” she said. “Out west. We could provide you all the support you’d need…”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, I’m not going out there with infected and raiders if I can help it. And my life is here. My friends are here, the clinic, the kids at the school… I’m not going anywhere.”

She sighed.

“Well, Tommy knows how to reach me,” she said. “If you change your mind. Which I hope you do. You would be an asset to our mission.”

Tommy walked you back to your place in silence. He stopped outside your door and you just sighed.

“You’re being an idiot with them,” you said. “Don’t let it get you killed.”

You doubted he listened to you.

Marta poked her head into the break room.

“Just got word from the front gate,” she said. “They’re heading our way.”

“That’s my cue,” Jess said, getting up and stealing a kiss from Andrew. “See you when you get home. Try not to wear yourself out.”

“I make no promises,” he said. She rolled her eyes, waved by to you, and left.

Andrew looked at you.

“Ready to get fucked by FEDRA?” He asked.

“Sounds like your average Friday to me,” you replied, cracking your neck, downing the rest of your water and heading to the exam area.

Things went smoothly at first. Marta and Andrew divided the men up, each of them handling intake for half of the 100 or so troops FEDRA was sending in from other QZs and training facilities. Then, the men went back to the exam area where you and the other doctors and nurses did quick exams and sent them on their way. You were on your 14th exam when you knocked once on the exam room door and went inside, without paying much mind to the name on the chart. “Hello,” you said, opening the file. “I’m…”

“I remember you.”

You looked up. Your stomach clenched. You had to swallow to keep from vomiting. Your heart pounded. Your hands shook. It took everything you had to not run.

You looked down at the file in your trembling hands, skipping over the first name and going to the last, even though it was burned in your memory, just like his face.

McCarthy.

“Always wondered if you’d made it through,” he smirked at you. “You look good, hardly know it’d been 12 years. How old were you then?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” your throat was dry. “I’m just here to do a quick exam.”

“Oh, c’mon now, I know what we had was more memorable than that,” he said, looking you up and down. Your stomach turned. “Know it was for me. You had… Well let’s just say, been looking for a girl to measure up since.”

“I just need to take some vitals,” you managed, getting the blood pressure cuff off the wall.

You barely remembered taking his vitals. Everything sounded like a high pitched whine, you could hardly hear or register anything he said. You were hyper aware of the feel of everything in your body, of every blood vessel, every muscle, every function. Breathing took conscious effort. So did blinking, swallowing. All you wanted to do was throw up.

After what felt like an eternity, you stepped back from him.

“You’re all set, Officer McCarthy,” you said.

“Have to look you up now that I’ll be in town,” he smirked. “Good to know that I can just start here.”

You knew your eyes must look like dinner plates, so wide and afraid. He seemed to like that.

“See you around, Doc.”

He winked, closing the door behind him. The second he was out of the room, you locked the door and doubled over the trashcan, throwing up. Your body just rejected everything you’d eaten that day, coughing and choking in its rush to expel it.

You’d spent the last 12 years pretending that McCarthy didn’t exist. That it had never happened. When he came to mind, you tried to shove the thoughts down, tried to avoid them, deny that there was anything to think about to begin with.

You rinsed your mouth out in the sink and tried to keep your tears under control before you rushed out of the exam room to find Dr. Lee.

Thankfully, he was just stepping out of an exam room when you did.

“Lee,” you said quickly. “I need you to cover for me, I have to go home.”

He groaned.

“Come on, we’re slammed…”

“I know,” you said, looking up at him. “But how often do I ask to go home early? I have to go home, I can’t…”

He looked at you and frowned.

“Yeah,” he said. “Get out of here.”

You all but sprinted for the door and out into the sun. You took moment when you got outside, doubling over with your hands on your knees to catch your breath before starting your walk home. You needed to curl up under your blanket, feel safe in your own space. It seemed like you might snap in half if you didn’t. You’d just started to calm down, to get your heart to stop racing, when McCarthy stepped out from an alley and grabbed your wrist, pulling you back down it with him.

You froze as he put your back against the wall, his arms caging you in.

“Now I know you remember me, pretty thing,” he smirked. “I’m the guy who saved your life, the lives of those kids you were with, you wouldn’t forget a guy like me…”

“You have me confused with someone else,” you could barely talk. He ran his nose over your cheek, smelling you.

“Bet you still feel the same,” he said. “Bet I could find out…”

“Please,” you choked. “I just…”

“Hey!”

Suddenly McCarthy’s body was pulled away from yours and Joel was in front of you.

“The fuck is this?” He asked, facing McCarthy. Your hand went to your chest, clutching the fabric of your shirt, desperate to get your heart to slow down. “Because it looked an awful lot like you were hasslin’ this girl.”

“No trouble,” he said. “Just… an old friend. We go way back, all the way back to the outbreak. Don’t we, Sugar?”

Joel looked over his shoulder to you but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Joel snapped. “Catch you botherin’ her again you’ll regret it.”

“Careful who you talk to,” McCarthy tried to step up to him, but Joel had several inches on him. “Probably don’t want to piss off a FEDRA officer.”

“I don’t give a shit who I piss off,” he growled. “Get the fuck out.”

He stood there and watched him go before he turned to you.

“Hey, Baby,” he said gently, reaching for you. You flinched back, your stomach turning.

“Please don’t touch me,” you managed.

“I just want to help…” he began but you cut him off.

“I know,” you said. “But just… don’t touch me, please don’t touch me, just don’t touch me…”

“Won’t touch you,” he said, hands up. “Promise.”

You nodded quickly, trying to not hyperventilate.

“Want to talk about it?” He asked, standing close enough that he could catch you if you fell, far enough that you didn’t feel like you needed to cower away from him. You managed to shake your head. “Want me to get someone? Like Andrew or Jess or… I could get Tommy.”

You just shook your head again, holding onto the wall, trying desperately to ground yourself. Joel hovered, watching you.

“I’ll be fine,” you glanced up at him. “You don’t need to stay…”

“Not going to just leave you here like this,” he said, voice gruff. “Especially if you won’t tell me why.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you said, standing up straight and leaning back against the wall. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and focusing on your diaphragm, pushing it low in your stomach to draw as much air into your lungs as you could. You breathed out slowly.

“You left work early for it,” he said. You lifted your head off the wall and opened your eyes, looking at him. He shrugged. “I try to stay away from you. Usually safe over here right now.”

You scoffed a little.

“Didn’t know I made it unsafe for the big bad smuggler,” you tried to smile but you weren’t sure that it worked. Judging from Joel’s expression, it didn’t. “Really, it’s fine. I’m just going to go home, have a drink, put on some music. Maybe take a bath. I’m fine.”

“Who was the asshole?” He asked.

You winced.

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Joel,” you said. “I just really don’t, OK? Please don’t make me. And please don’t say anything to anyone about it, I’d just rather pretend this never happened, OK?”

“Tell me who he is and I’ll drop it,” he said. “Won’t tell anyone.”

You searched his face for a moment.

It had been a long time since you’d been this close to Joel. Probably since the night you’d walked him back to the QZ with his broken leg.

It hadn’t been as complete of a shut out as the year before, at least. Not this time. You’d occasionally bumped into him when out running errands. He’d give you a nod of acknowledgement, which was better than you’d really expected. He’d come into the clinic once - you saw him in the waiting room - but Andrew put him with another doctor. You’d even seen him once at his apartment. You’d come by when Tommy said to meet him there, he’d said not to worry about Joel. But Joel came home as you stood in his living room, waiting for Tommy to grab the last of whatever it was he needed for whatever it was you were going to do - you’d since forgotten all that, too distracted by seeing Joel. He’d just stood there for a second, frozen, looking at you. You’d smiled tightly at him. He just went to his room, brushing past Tommy on his way by.

His hair was starting to gray, but otherwise, he looked the same as he had for as long as you’d known him. His picture was still on your bedside table. You slipped it into a drawer if you were having Tommy over or you were seeing someone but outside of that, you had a reminder of what he looked like before beside you all the time. It still killed you to look at him, made your heart ache with missing him and who he was to you once.

In spite of everything that had happened between you, you didn’t think he would hurt you on purpose.

“I don’t know his first name,” you said, looking down at his feet. “His last name is McCarthy.”

You managed to look back at his face.

“Please, Joel,” you begged. “Don’t tell anyone, please don’t tell anyone. I just want to pretend like it never happened and I can’t… if people know I…”

You were starting to hyperventilate again. You closed your eyes and forced yourself to take a deep breath and hold it for a moment before releasing it slowly. You looked back at Joel.

“I’ll do just about whatever you want, just please don’t tell anyone,” you said quietly.

“Won’t tell anyone,” he said.

You nodded, relieved.

“I’m walkin’ you home though,” he frowned. “In case that fucker shows up again.”

You just nodded, not feeling up for fighting with him. You tried to gather yourself for a moment and then started off, Joel staying an almost awkward distance from you as you made your way through the QZ. Like he wanted to be close but not so close that he might risk accidentally touching you or have someone thinking you were walking anywhere together. He didn’t say anything, just looked over at you every minute or two like you were a bomb he was expecting to explode.

“Thank you,” you said, stopping at the communal door to your building. “I appreciate your help with him. I wasn’t prepared for that, I will be now.”

He just nodded gruffly.

“It was…” you paused. “I don’t know if good to see you is the right word but… It was nice. Seeing you.”

He paused, looking you over for a moment.

“You too.”

He crossed his arms, watching you. It took you a second to realize that he was waiting for you to go inside. You opened the door.

“Night, Joel.”

“Night, Kid.”

***

Joel waited until you were inside to go lean against the building opposite yours, in an alcove where he was tucked away and largely out of sight. He was pretty certain this McCarthy fucker hadn’t followed you but he wasn’t about to take any chances.

Whatever that asshole had done, it was bad. Joel had only ever seen you that horrified once, when a raider had his hand around your throat. The way you’d panicked when he’d reached for you…

He ground his teeth. He needed to know what this man did to you so he could make sure it wouldn’t happen again.

Joel stood sentry outside your apartment for hours. After the clinic closed, he saw Andrew go up, but he was only there for a few minutes. You must have lied to him, he doubted he would have left if you’d told him the truth of it. He waited until curfew was only minutes away and went home, making it inside just in time.

“Out late,” Tommy observed, sitting on the couch.

“Got held up,” he said.

“Trade go bad?” He asked.

“Turned out OK,” Joel replied.

Tommy didn’t press. He wondered if you’d ever told Tommy whatever had happened. The two of you had stayed close after breaking up, you might have told him something you’d never told Joel…

He could think of just one person who would almost certainly know. McCarthy had mentioned the outbreak. Andrew must know, must have some idea.

Tommy went to bed but Joel stayed up. He’d told you that he wouldn’t tell anyone. You’d begged him not to tell anyone. But he needed to keep you safe and to do that, he needed to understand the threat. But what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you.

The moment curfew lifted in the morning, Joel was out the door, walking quickly to Andrew’s. He had to pound on the door a few times and it took a few minutes for him to answer, looking half asleep.

“Miller,” he said, stifling a yawn. “Thought I wouldn’t have to deal with your shit anymore.”

“McCarthy,” Joel said quickly. “FEDRA guard. Name mean anything to you?”

Andrew’s eyes went wide for a moment before he grabbed Joel by the shoulder and pulled him inside, closing the door behind him.

“Where’d you hear that name,” he asked. He looked wide awake now.

“Not important,” Joel said. “Who is he. What’d he do to her.”

“He here?” Andrew growled.

“Tell me what he did.”

He looked Joel up and down before he laughed darkly.

“God, you never even tried with her, did you?” He asked. “To busy with your own shit so she never told you…”

“What did he do.”

Andrew glanced down the hall, making sure Jess was still asleep and looked back to Joel, his voice low.

“He fucking raped her is what he did,” he spat. Joel’s stomach twisted. “She’s never called it that, she never calls it anything. She likes to pretend it never happened but that’s what it was.”

“What happened.” Joel’s teeth were clenched. His whole body was coiled like a spring. He needed to hit something, the energy and rage needed to go somewhere.

“We came to a check point,” Andrew said. “Two guards, both armed, three of us. I was a kid, I was 18 but I was a kid and Jessica… She was trying to take care of us. They had guns and he told her the way to get through, made it clear he’d start shooting if she didn’t listen. She gave me the gun, told me to protect Jessica, he took her to the woods… She never told me what happened, she never talked about it. She just came out different. I should have fucking killed him, I should have shot him the second she gave me the gun…”

Joel felt like he was going to be sick. He’d left you. You’d been alone with two children and his child inside you and you’d been forced…

“Where is he?” Andrew snarled. “I’m going to rip him apart…”

“One of us needs to be there for her and it can’t be me,” Joel replied. “Needs to be you. She trusts you. You take care of her, I’ll take care of him.”

Andrew looked like he wanted to fight him for it but eventually he gave him just a single, stiff nod. Joel turned to leave before he turned back to him.

“Pretend you don’t know,” he said. “Promised I wouldn’t say anything but… Couldn’t protect her if I didn’t know what I was protecting her from.”

“When are you doing it?” Andrew asked.

“Today,” he said. “I’m going to hers now, make sure he doesn’t show up. I’ll get her to work OK and take care of him, dump him somewhere tonight.”

“He shows up at the fucking clinic and I’ll kill him,” Andrew said, his voice eerily calm. “I don’t give a shit.”

Joel nodded once. This was the first time he remembered ever really liking Andrew. He could leave you in his hands at the clinic and you would be safe, that he knew.

He all but ran to your apartment, leaning against the building across from yours, waiting for you to come downstairs. He’d been waiting for about an hour when he spotted you. You’d French braided your hair, like you were expecting a long day. You hadn’t put on ribbons.

He caught you quickly.

“Good morning,” he said, falling into step beside you. You nearly jumped out of your skin. “Sorry, wasn’t tryin’ to scare you.”

“What are you doing here?” You asked, frowning up at him.

“Making sure you get to work safe,” he said. You clearly hadn’t slept, you looked exhausted.

“I’m fine, really,” you said, continuing on. Joel walked beside you. You frowned at him again but didn’t argue the point. He walked you to the front door of the clinic in silence, you just giving him a tight smile and a small wave before going inside. Joel found a spot near the door he could wait, make sure McCarthy didn’t come in before Andrew got there.

Andrew spotted him on his way in, stepping over to him and keeping his voice low.

“He probably came in with the transfer guards that showed up yesterday,” he said quietly.

“Temp housing,” Joel said.

“Exactly,” Andrew replied. He looked Joel up and down. “Good luck, Miller.”

With your friend on site, Joel finally felt safe leaving you.

Moving to hurt the man who hurt you quickly eased the tightness in his chest. He may have failed you 12 years ago but he wasn’t going to fail you now.

He went home and got supplies. He didn’t intend to make McCarthy’s death easy. He needed to make sure he had what he needed to make it worthwhile.

Joel stood at the edge of the small market that was near the temporary housing for FEDRA employees. He figured McCarthy would need to come through here at some point. He was right.

Shortly after noon, McCarthy came through the stands, pondering what there was to buy. Joel waited until precisely the right moment, reaching out and grabbing the man by his collar and pulling him into a darkened alleyway. He yelped but it wasn’t loud and it didn’t take the man long to recognize Joel.

“You again,” he smirked. “Here to apologize?”

“Here for information,” he growled. “What did you do to her.”

“To who?” The man smirked challenging him.

It was a dumb move. Joel was so mad he couldn’t see straight. He grabbed the man by the throat and thrust him into the wall, hard enough to make him cough and choke.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

Now, the man just looked scared. He punched McCarthy hard across the face, enough to knock him out, and slung him over his shoulder, moving quickly for the abandoned building he’d spotted earlier.

He ducked inside, going for an interior room where his screams wouldn’t be heard.

There was a chair in the room, and old folding one. He tied the man to the chair and smacked him to bring him around.

“What the fuck?” He looked around, straining against his ties, his eyes wide. “You don’t know who you’re fucking with…”

“I know exactly who I’m fucking with,” Joel said. “I think it’s you who doesn’t know.”

He pulled out his knife and took the second chair and pulled it up close to McCarthy’s, getting right in his face.

“Tell me what you did to her,” Joel said.

“Look,” he said quickly. “It was the outbreak…”

Joel sighed, opening the knife and shoving it into the man’s thigh. He screamed, doubling over as well as he could given his bonds. Joel smiled.

“You’re going to tell me what you did to her,” he said. “I want to know it all. Tell me what you did to her.”

“Please,” he whimpering now. “I swear…”

Joel pulled a pair of pliers from his pocket. He held McCarthy’s head still as the man started begging and pleading. It fell on deaf ears. He pressed the pliers around his one of his middle teeth and pulled.

It felt good, expending energy this way. He was taking action, doing something. It didn’t even feel like he needed to pull that hard.

McCarthy screamed, blood pouring from his mouth. Joel gave him a moment to catch his breath, watching him bleed. He liked his blood. He wanted to see more of it.

“What did you do to her?” He asked through clenched teeth.

“She wanted it!” He sobbed.

“Wrong answer,” Joel ripped the knife from his leg and thrust it into his shoulder. The man screamed again. “What did you do to her.”

“Took her into the woods!” He screamed, panting for breath. Joel gave him a minute to pant. He could wait.

After a minute he spoke again.

“How did you get her to the woods, McCarthy?” He asked. The man’s eyes glistened with tears.

“I…” his voice cracked. “I told her I could give them a code to get through the other checkpoints in exchange…”

“In exchange for what?” Joel patted the man’s knife wound on his leg. He cried out again.

“In exchange for sex!” He cried out. “I told her I’d trade sex for safe passage, said I didn’t know the next time I’d see a woman, I didn’t want to waste it…”

“Did you have a gun?” Joel asked. The man looked confused. He grabbed his face, holding his cheeks harshly in his fingers, forcing him to look at Joel. “When you told her you’d trade for sex, did you have a gun?”

“Yes,” he sobbed. “Yes, I had a gun…”

“So you threatened her,” he said. “You threatened her and the children she was with.”

“No,” he man moaned. “That’s not… I swear, it wasn’t like that…”

Joel sighed and pulled the knife from the man’s shoulder before he thrust it into his uninjured leg. McCarthy wailed.

“I threatened her!” He panted, gasping. “I knew what I was doing, I wanted her and knew how I could get it so I threatened her…”

“And you took her into the woods,” Joel said. The man nodded. “With your gun.” He nodded again. “What did you do then?”

“Told her to get undressed,” he groaned. “Told her she had great tits… once she was naked, told her to lie down…”

He choked and cried. Joel sighed, reaching over and smacking his face, forcing him to look at him.

“Then what,” Joel’s voice was harsh.

“I…” he swallowed. He looked terrified. “I got on top of her…” His voice broke. “Please….”

“What. Next.”

“I put my dick in her,” he groaned. He was crying now. “I fucked her…”

“That’s not what you did, is it?” Joel grabbed his hair, holding his face close to his own. “Call it what it was McCarthy!” He screamed it. “What did you do to her!”

“I raped her,” he sobbed it out. Joel released his hair.

“Where’d you touch her,” he asked. He looked confused. “You touched her when you raped her, right? Where.”

“Her chest,” he sniffed. “Hips, waist…”

Joel remembered the parts of you that made you freeze when he touched them, parts of you that never made you freeze before. He wasn’t sure you even knew you did it. Now he knew why.

“That it?” Joel asked. He nodded. “You cum in her?”

“Please…”

Joel pulled the knife from his leg.

“You don’t seem to fucking get it,” he growled, getting in his face. “I like hurting you. I want to hurt you. I don’t need much reason to but you saying please? Makes me want to hurt you more. I want to fucking flay you alive every time I hear you beg. So answer the goddamn question,” Joel thrust the knife into McCarthy’s other shoulder. “Or I will do what I want.”

“Yes!” He cried it out. “I did, I came in her…”

Joel sat back, panting for breath for a moment, looking McCarthy up and down. He was covered in blood. He was weak, slumped over like he couldn’t hold himself up.

Joel wasn’t done with him.

“You know she was pregnant when you did that?” He asked. McCarthy lifted his head just enough to look at Joel. He shook his head. “Well, she was. With my kid.”

He stood up, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows.

“I wasn’t there to protect her then,” he said, flexing his fingers before curling them into fists. “But I am now. Can’t let you live with what you did, McCarthy. I have to kill you for her. But when I make it hurt? That’s for me.”

He swung, punching him in the middle of his stomach, knocking the air out of him.

“And I’m going to like it.”

***

The clinic had been fairly quiet that day, quiet enough that your mind wandered to places you didn’t want it to.

Andrew was no help. He was oddly withdrawn, only really responding when prompted, not initiating much conversation himself. But he didn’t fight you when you put on Joni Mitchell, so you were taking what you could get. You were dreading going home but didn’t have a reason to tell Andrew you wanted to sleep over, either. You were debating about how up front you wanted to be when there was yelling outside the clinic.

“Help!” Someone screamed. You looked to Andrew for just half a second before running for the doors.

Two FEDRA soldiers were hauling in a third man, holding him by his underarms and knees, the man’s body totally limp. He was so covered in blood you were almost certain he couldn’t still be breathing.

“Jesus Christ,” you said before yelling over your shoulder. “Kristen! Trauma!” You turned your attention back to the men. “What happened?”

“Don’t know,” one said. “Just found him like this, he transferred in with us there’s no way someone here hates him enough to do this yet…”

“Let’s get him back,” you said, Kristen running up to you as you headed back toward the exam rooms and the surgical suite. “We need O-, a lot of it…” She glanced around you to the injured man.

“Not sure that’ll make a damn difference,” she said but she ran to obey.

“We’ll start him in an exam room,” you said quickly. “Want to try to maintain a sterile area in the OR but I’m sure we’ll need it…”

They carried him into the exam room and lifted him onto the table. You quickly washed your hands and gloved up before diving in, looking the man over. Kristen ran in with the O- and quickly hung it as you cleaned up a place on his arm to start a transfusion.

“Do you even know who this is?” You asked the men who carried him in. The man’s face was beaten beyond any kind of recognition. His lower lip was barely hanging on, eyes swollen shut, nose crushed.

“He had his dog tags,” one man said. “It’s Lewis McCarthy…”

You froze, your stomach twisting. Your head spun.

“Doc, I don’t think we can do much here,” Kristen said from McCarthy’s side. “He’s lost so much blood…”

“We should try,” you said, on autopilot. You tried to find the worst injuries on the man. He was missing teeth. He’d been stabbed numerous times. His whole body was covered in blood and bruises, not a single inch of him left unscathed. You swallowed before pulling down his pants to see what might be on his legs when you saw it.

“Oh my God,” you jumped back from the table and into Andrew, who’d come into the exam room at some point and you hadn’t noticed. He caught you.

“What?” Kristen asked before looking herself. “Oh!”

She jumped back, too.

Where McCarthy’s penis had been, there was nothing. Just an open wound. One of the men who brought him in gagged and ran for the trash can, throwing up. You stared at it, the place where the part of him he’d weaponized against you had been torn away. Andrew held onto you.

“We’re losing him,” Kristen said, her hand on his neck. “Doc, I don’t think… there’s nothing we can do here, there’s nothing we can do with this.”

You nodded, shaking as Andrew kept you upright. He looked to the men.

“You should go,” he said. “Don’t need to see this.”

They nodded, trembling as they left.

“I’ll go get a bag,” Kristen said, staring wide eyed at him. “Stuff to start clean up…”

She left you and Andrew alone with the body.

“Andrew,” you whispered. “Did you talk to Joel?”

“He had questions,” he said, voice flat.

“Oh my God,” you stared at the body. “What did he do?”

“The right thing,” he said, squeezing your shoulder. “The right fucking thing.”

A/N: AHHHHHHH THE McCARTHY CHAPTER. I've been waiting for Joel to go off on him since chapter 8 and we finally got here. So satisfying to write, hopefully satisfying to read!

There is a taglist for this story! If you're interested in being added, comment below. If I've missed you in the past, please comment and let me know!

Thank you, everyone, for reading and commenting! It's been a dream to see how people feel about this piece while I'm writing it. Love you all, thank you for taking the time to read my work <3

Taglist: @paleidiot@ayamenimthiriel@ginger-swag-rapunzel@drewharrisonwriter@flugazi @pedropascalsbbg@taoyuji@starstruckmusiciansartghost@splendsay@bigboiseason123@jpbplvr @ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10@sloanexx@ninaminaromina @lady-bellyn

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #fanfic

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coraniaid · 11 months ago

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I don't think there should be a Buffy the Vampire Slayer reboot and I don't have any reason to believe there is going to be a Buffy the Vampire Slayer reboot and I would not watch a Buffy the Vampire Slayer reboot.

But, that said, if there were to be a Buffy reboot I think a big (small) change that would improve the show a lot (especially in its first season) would be to have a much broader pool of recurring student characters from the very beginning. Not just the Scooby Gang and Cordelia, but ideally almost all the students we see in the first season should appear in multiple episodes and, if they die, they should be talked about at least once afterwards. As it is, Season 1 is full of ghosts: characters like Amy and Harmony who will go on to be somewhat recurring but aren't quite there yet, and characters like Jesse and Cordelia's boyfriend Kevin (remember him?) who only exist to die and are not mentioned before or after. Most of the show's recurring minor student characters will only be introduced in Season 2.

In particular, I think the characters most ill-served by this in canon are, in order of first (and often only) appearance:

Jesse

I actually think the concept of Jesse – as a sympathetic character who is killed in the opening episodes before we really get to know him – is a good one. Beyond any possible shock value of his death, it's a useful way of establishing that people can and will die in this story, and of stating out loud the setting's rules for vampires ("you're not looking at your friend, you're looking at the thing that killed him"). On the other hand, the execution is pretty awful because it is immediately clear that Jesse is not the same status of character as Willow and Xander (he isn’t even in the opening credits), he is not actually sympathetic at all (he seems to exist to answer the question "what if Xander Harris but Worse?"), and large parts of the fandom (and later writers of the show itself) will decide to completely ignore what the show is telling them about how vampires as a concept on Buffy work and why Buffy is not only justified but morally obliged to Slay them.

But the most egregious thing about Jesse is, of course, that after his death in The Harvest he is never talked about again. I honestly think that just a couple of lines of dialogue spread out over Season 1 (Buffy blaming herself for Jesse's death while worrying whether she’s making a positive difference as a Slayer, say, or Xander mentioning Jesse as a reason for disliking vampires, or Jesse being named as one of several mysteriously missing students by Principal Flutie) would go a really long way to fixing that.

A brief cameo appearance in Nightmares wouldn't have hurt either. (Just months ago Xander failed to save his best friend from vampires and was taunted by the demon wearing his corpse and had to watch him turn to dust in front of his eyes, so of course he’s terrified of … clowns. OK.)

Amy

OK, for real, if I were in charge of creating a Buffy reboot I would be very tempted to just add Amy to the Gang after Witch. She knows that magic is real! She knows Buffy knows magic is real! She seems to be on friendly terms with both Buffy and Willow when the episode ends! And yet she vanishes after her first appearance more quickly than Marcie Ross.

But, failing that, having Amy show up more than once a year in the high school seasons would be a start (especially since the show implies so much is happening to her behind the scenes each year). Let her be a friend of Buffy's who doesn't know anything about Buffy being the Slayer. Have Willow at least think about asking her for help with Angel’s soul curse! Pull the trick the writers used in The Wish (and never used again) of having Willow talk about her as if they're friends even in episodes she's not appearing in. Show us Willow spending time with her rather than Buffy during Dead Man's Party! Remember that this character exists even when she’s not on screen!

Lance (and his various bullies) from The Pack

Hapless victim Lance is basically a proto-Jonathan and, if I were remaking the show, I would just lean into that fully and simply replace him with Jonathan from the very beginning.

It would be tempting to do the same thing with Kyle and Heidi and the others, too: rather than retroactively introduce multiple new characters who apparently used to bully Xander in Seasons 2 and 3 that we’ve never met before and never will again (how big is Sunnydale High meant to be?).

The obvious problem with that is that the show tells us that the Pack remember eating Principal Flutie alive, which means rather than hanging out in school giving Xander and Willow a hard time when the plot requires it they should probably all be in therapy for years. But you can fix that while fixing The Pack as an episode by just ... not having the fact Xander not only remembers assaulting Buffy but lies about it to her face presented to us as a punchline? Have Xander forget what happened to him. Have them all forget what happened when they were possessed, and then Kyle and Heidi and the others can be conflated with Inca Mummy Girl's Rodney and School Hard's Sheila as and when required.

Owen

This requires slightly more work, but I think Owen and Scott work better if they're the same character too. Rather than Owen promising to stay friends with Buffy and then never appearing or being mentioned again, or Willow telling Buffy she "wasn't ready" to date Scott before Season 3 as if he even existed then, just make Scott somebody that we've already met and who Buffy had previously briefly dated pre-Angel.

The challenge here is that Buffy breaks up with Owen because she doesn’t want to get him hurt and she’s still very focussed on keeping her identity as the Slayer secret and only letting a handful of people know.

But that fits into the wider theme of Season 3 perfectly. By this point, Buffy’s let far more people know than just Willow and Xander. Xander’s girlfriend Cordelia knows, and Willow’s boyfriend Oz knows, and Buffy’s own mother knows, and none of this has caused the world to end. Why shouldn’t Buffy try dating a normal guy who knows she’s the Slayer?

(And I think everything about Scott works better if he’s somebody we’ve seen before – somebody we’ve seen Buffy be romantically interested in before – rather than suddenly appearing only to disappear almost as quickly. Scott is meant to represent Buffy trying to reassert her claim to a 'normal' life after everything that happened with Angel last year.. What better way to do that than to try to start things over with the one person we do see her trying to date on the show before Angel? How much harder would Scott's rejection of Buffy hit if we'd seen that the pre-Angelus version of Buffy really did get on well with him and would have expected to make things work?)

Kevin

The end of Season 1 features, back-to-back, two of its best episodes. In Out of Mind Out of Sight, we focus on Cordelia Chase. We're reintroduced to Cordelia's friend Harmony and we meet Cordelia's current boyfriend, Mitch. (Who is attacked by Marice Ross, but survives.) In Prophecy Girl Cordelia briefly bonds with Willow while talking about how much she likes her current boyfriend, Kevin, only for the two of them to discover him dead, killed by vampires on school grounds.

Wouldn't the death in the latter episode work much better if those two "current boyfriends" were the same person? Wouldn't we care more about Kevin's death if he was somebody we'd actually met before?

But let’s go further than that: at the start of Season 2, in Some Assembly Required, we meet Chris, whose brother used to date Cordelia but tragically died. Chris tries to bring him back, and his brother pursues Cordelia. The show doesn’t mention – or doesn’t remember – that Cordelia already has a tragically dead ex-boyfriend, one who died only two episodes ago. Why not fix that? Why not identify Chris’s brother Darryl with Kevin as well?

Make Mitch/Kevin/Darryl a single character, and then we would achieve that rarest of sights on Buffy: a minor character who we meet an episode before they die and who is mentioned again in an episode after they died.

And wouldn’t that almost make a potential Buffy reboot palatable?

#btvs #the answer to that last question is 'no'

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tickle-bugs · 11 months ago

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Stupid in Love

Summary: Nick Miller is completely, 100% normal about all things Jessica Day. Including her smile, her laugh--ah, fuck. He's doomed. NickJess ft. pining!Nick

Anon: I just saw you write for New Girl! I am in my yearly rewatch of the show so I am so happy you write for it! Maybe the loft gang and CeCe can be playing a game of true American and somehow during the game it comes out that Jess is incredibly ticklish. Everyone is too focused on the game to use it to their advantage at the moment, but nick remembers and maybe later when him and Jess are together, he decided to test his new found knowledge and see just how ticklish Jess really is.

While this isn’t set during a particular episode, I was thinking HEAVILY about s2 ep15, Cooler. One of the greatest episodes of the whole show, hands down. I just wanted to write pining Nick tbh.

True American is the best goddamn game ever invented. It defines a man at his core level. Everything that’s ever mattered to Nick is on the line in this game. His dignity, his pride, his dignity…

He honestly can’t remember what they’re playing for. Something involving the sink. Or a drink? Unclear, but irrelevant. Nick is the king of an aluminum can palace and his citizens will thrive under his leadership. This is his birthright.

They’re playing True American: Catan Edition tonight. Each player defends their own small nations and attempts to crush the others, throwing their leaders to the molten lava below. It’s the smartest thing Winston’s ever come up with.

“Duel for my amusement,” Nick slurs, waving his paper towel roll scepter around. The cardboard crown on his head slips down over his eyes. Cece blows a raspberry at him. He lobs a balled-up piece of paper at her.

Jess plays a fanfare into her backup kazoo—Schmidt threw away her main one—and draws angry eyebrows onto the smiley face of her country’s flag. A declaration of war.

Sober Jess is all for political progress and human rights, but Drunk Jess? Maniacal, power-hungry, and so very hot.

Focus, Miller.

“Two, four, six, eight! Who do we appreciate?” Jess climbs onto one of the kitchen chairs and puts a colander on her head. A warrior’s helm. Nick smiles at her.

In their corner of the living room, Winston and Schmidt whisper furiously. At some point in the last hour, Winston had ascended to Grand Advisor of Schmidt’s Creek. Schmidt had lost the ability to speak after can number two, when Cece had flirted him out of all of his natural resources and a third of his land. Nick had been trying to think of how to poach Winston to Nicklandia, but he couldn’t think of a plan that didn’t involve saying ‘please’ until he passed out.

“Schmidt’s Creek will not challenge today!” Winston crushes his beer can against Schmidt’s forehead. Schmidt doesn’t even blink.

“Ruth Gader Binsburg! I challenge your weird little colony, Jess,” Cece shouts, messily hopping onto the chair next to Jess. They start some combination of swatting at each other and clutching on for dear life. Schmidt looks up at Cece like a drunk, lovesick puppy. Nick rolls his eyes.

Thank god he doesn’t look like that.

Does he look like that?

Shit. He’s missing the game.

“Yeah? Guess what—” Jess knocks her knuckles against the colander helmet, winces, and then points at Cece— “I’m the Queen of England, bitch.”

Nick’s not sure what’s elapsed in the apparently three years since he was last paying attention, but he knows by the way that Cece gasps that someone’s dying on the living room and/or kitchen floor tonight. Jess cackles and puts her hands on her hips. They start yelling, but even if they’re saying real human words, which he’s pretty sure they’re not, he’s not processing it. Jess looks so stupid in that little holey hat—someone should invent a word for that thing—and she’s adorable.

Nick leans his cheek on his palm and smiles wider. Does she know her nose scrunches when she’s annoyed?

Nick leans a little too far and loses his balance. Half of his aluminum fortress tumbles down. When he looks back up, Jess and Cece haven’t budged. Or blinked. Cece squints at Jess and it’s clear the conversation has ascended to psychic levels that even Drunk Nick can’t access. He tries though. Mostly gives himself a headache.

Something in their eye conversation must shift, because Cece gets this look on her face. Like pure, concentrated mischief. The aura off of her is so powerful that everyone scoots back a bit. Cece starts stretching and cracking her knuckles.

“Waitwaitwait, Cece, you don’t have to do this.” Jess holds her hands up in immediate surrender, but she’s smiling hard enough to brighten the room. A little nervous giggle picks up in the back of her throat and she starts to turn pinker than the boxed rosé that forms her section of the living room.

“Oh, but I do. Surrender. Now.” Cece points to the floor. Which is lava. Cruel way to go.

Jess looks at her best friend with the kind of profound resignation only possible when piss drunk. She sighs deeply, staring at the floor…

And then launches herself at Cece with a war cry.

Cece doesn’t even flinch. She catches Jess, smirks, and starts tickling her sides with vicious precision. Jess lets out a giggly shriek and crumples, sinking right down into the lava. The colander tumbles off of her head and rolls into Nick’s fortress.

The sound worms itself into Nick’s brain, taking up residence alongside all the other little Jess things that drive him nuts. It distracts him hard enough that by the time Winston arises as Supreme Leader of the Loft, Nick can’t even trace the path of his defeat.

………

Even when sobriety beats them over the head the next morning, Nick can remember nothing but the sweet music of Jess’s laugh. And the shape of her smile.

God he’s hopeless.

The slow march of the week brings some relief in the sense that a) Nick remembers that he really doesn’t do the whole ‘feelings’ thing and b) alcohol makes anyone look like an angel walking the earth. He is a grown ass man and Jess is an annoying little craft goblin. He can be normal. She’s normal. No need to get worked up over her.

“You look like Mr. Rogers’s grumpy cousin.” Jess snickers, fiddling with the sleeve of Nick’s hideous cardigan.

“You done? You finished?” He pulls his sleeve away from her. It’s really Schmidt’s, which she very well knows. Nick’s only wearing it because Schmidt’s being weird about Cece again, and the only way to survive that is to bend to his will. Schmidt’s already dehydrated himself twice this week trying to show off his muscles more, Nick doesn’t want to add to that by making the guy cry. He’d never stop.

Jess, however, doesn’t seem to understand the magnitude of this manly sacrifice. She’s too busy laughing at him.

“Mmmm, no, I don’t think I am. You look like a Muppet.” She pinches his cheek. He rolls his eyes.

“Well, that’s just a compliment.”

“No, no. You look like the bird. The bird with the eyebrows—“ Jess pauses as her giggles overtake her— “You look like Sam the Eagle.”

Jess folds over into his shoulder with laughter and smacks his chest. The warmth of it almost distracts him from the comment.

Almost.

“Yeah, laugh it up, Jess. C’mere—“ He drags her across the couch by the ankle and latches onto her sides. She makes that adorable sound again, that giggly shriek, and flails like a worm on a hook. She tries to push his face away. He swats her hands aside like it’s nothing. When reaches for him again—futile, really—he snatches her wrists in one hand, pins them down, and tickles with the other.

Her whole face burns. He chooses to ignore it for both of their sakes.

“Let me know when you’re ready to apologize. Take your time.” He does a little pinchy thing with his fingers and Jess lets out a high-pitched mess of syllables. She throws her head back and cackles, arching up into him.

“Hmm, yeah, see none of that sounded like ‘You’re the best, Nick Miller’. Try again.” He pokes all over her torso, fast and wild. He lets go of her and adds his other hand into the mix. Every time she tries to talk, he speeds up, making her laugh at his silliness along with his hands. She kicks her legs and lets out a little giggly growl. Nick smiles so wide his cheeks hurt.

“Nick!” She grabs his wrists but doesn’t stop him. His stomach flips. She’s so overwhelming.

“That’s my name.” He skitters his fingers up her ribs to distract himself from the lump in his throat.

Jess flails and nearly takes them both off the couch and into the next life. Nick catches himself before he collapses on top of her, but it puts their faces mere inches apart. The space of a breath. He can see the faint freckles across her nose, all brought forth by the pink flush down her cheeks and neck. As she catches her breath, lips parted, her laughter simmers low in her chest. He brushes her hair out of her face. His hand lingers on her cheek.

Her eyes crinkle when she smiles. Does she know that?

Nick gets the deep, burning urge to kiss her senseless. To download all these embarrassing, vulnerable thoughts from his brain to hers. To show her how deep this goes. To drink of her like the wine at restaurants he can never afford.

No. Not like this. She deserves better than this.

Than him.

He starts to pull away, awkwardly clearing his throat. Jess surges forward and Nick’s stupid little monkey brain gleefully claps its hands together, shouting this is it! It’s happening! Nick’s brain activity screeches to a halt. He stares at her mouth and freezes.

Jess flips them over and starts tickling his ears like some kind of insane supervillain.

“No! Jessica!” He turtles and attempts to fling himself to safety. All he accomplishes is hanging off the back of the couch, leaving his knees in reach of Jess’s evil nails—

One day he will be smart about Jessica Day, but he concedes that it won’t be today. But as she destroys him and Schmidt’s stupid, hopefully inexpensive cardigan, he secretly hopes the day never arrives.

#my fics #new girl #nickjess #ticklish!jess day #jess day #nick miller #not v proud of this one but it was fun attempting nick's inner voice #hope u enjoy new girl anon! thank u for ur patience <3

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theroyalmisfitmess · 2 years ago

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[Updated as of 07/11/23] Reasons why I think Sid is the father

I don’t think other viewers can call fellow Sid-is-the-father theorists delusional anymore. The show is already building up the final contenders and I know in my gut they’re gonna be Sid, Jesse, and Ian. Hopefully we get S4 because I will update this whenever there’s a season break or a season ends.

Possible hints from the show (not the obvious and usually stated ones + not hints that could also apply to other contenders):

- When Sophie enters Pemberton’s to switch phones back with Sid, the engagement party crowd thought she was Hannah

- Sid remembered how much Tinder dates Sophie went on; he paid attention to her well (more on this later)

- Sophie and Sid both experienced relationship problems then found each other at the same time and same place. Sid later gave Sophie advice about finding the right person (funny enough, the advice parallels the situation because Sophie and Sid found each other at the right time to give each other advice)

- Two of Sophie’s by far most important love interests are connected to Sid—Jesse who is Sid’s best friend, and Drew who is a close friend of Sid’s wife

- Sophie remembers the Electric Slide; this time she is proven to pay attention to him

- Sid tells Sophie that he hopes the man she’ll marry will give her a better reception that what he and Hannah have

- If the father isn’t Jesse and Sophie is still married to the father, only Sid would be the perfect candidate to be understanding on why Jesse’s photo is on Sophie’s wall since he is Sid’s best friend

- The father is hinted to have loved Valentine’s Day even before he and Sophie even got together. Unlike the other guys, Sid’s memory for Valentine’s Day was always consistently good. Additionally, when Hannah walked in Pemberton’s to surprise Sid, only Sophie’s reaction was the focus

- Sophie and Sid both remember random facts they found out about each other offscreen; once again solidifying that they do pay attention to each other

- Sid somehow is the only character who has profound or notable interactions with both of Sophie’s parents

- In the episode where Sophie and her father made a popup, she tells her son it’s a story of how she met her father; in this episode, Sid is the only father option to interact with Sophie and her father

- Since we know that Sophie narrates the story, it’s important to note that she often emphasizes Sid’s stories by giving us in-depth insight despite their minimal interactions in episodes before 02x13. While she also does this for her other friends, it’s only Sid’s stories that we actually see play out long. To add, Sophie always paints Sid in a positive light in her stories

- In the disengagement episode, Sid and Sophie are implied to know a lot about each other (Sid knowing Sophie’s lock screen, Sophie knowing the password to Sid’s iPad); this isn’t really a hint but again, recurring theme that they pay attention to each other

- Both Sid and Sophie have this storyline where they are judged for their jobs/careers (and in the same episode)

- By 2x18 we see Sophie’s parents again and it’s Sid who primarily consoles them when they (along with Valentina) follow Sophie into Sid and Jesse’s apartment

- Sophie slowly bonds with Sid as each episode progresses and have more significant plots with him more than with Jesse

- Hannah assumed that Sid emotionally cheated on her with Sophie, and it was without reason. After this scene, we then cut to Sophie

- EDIT: Season 1 also had another cheating conversation between Sid and Hannah where Sophie’s situation with Jesse and Drew was the trigger

- Sophie’s son says that he thought it was a happy story to which Sophie replies it was, but we immediately get Sid crying over Hannah—setting the mood that it wasn’t really a happy night for everyone

- By 2x20 we have finally taken Charlie out as a candidate to be the father of Sophie’s child because it’s been confirmed that he ends up with Valentina (Side note: love this revelation. I was on a fifty-fifty with them but they fit well and love each other); Drew can also be taken out of the equation because of how future Sophie talks about him as a mere catalyst, but since there’s not an official confirmation we can just put him down the list for now

- Once again, it needs to be mentioned that the way Sophie talks about Sid in her story is always in a good light. She talks about the father so fondly and only Sid is the male character who is presented with so much emphasis about his personal life, his goodness, and his ability to have someone stir up their fondness for him

Parallels & Connections with HIMYM/Ted and Tracy:

- Alliteration names (Ted Mosby and Tracy McConnell, Sophie and Sid—if Sid’s last name also starts with a letter “T” like Tompkins then that would be interesting)

- Both are romantics. Sophie is a hopeless romantic who can’t find “the one” like Ted, while Sid is a committed romantic who is (and possibly going to be was) in a longterm relationship like Tracy

- Sophie and Sid swap phones, paralleling the yellow umbrella swap

- Sophie and Sid’s banters are very similar to that of Ted and Tracy’s

- Sid has Ted’s old room

- In connection to a point from the previous section, Sophie painting Sid in a picture that’s so positive and feeling untainted is very similar to how Ted paints Tracy in his stories—perfect, an angel, someone who no one could say something bad about, with great fondness

- Not directly related to HIMYM, but in the original HIMYM spin-off (How I Met Your Dad), the lead character Sally met the dad as she was preparing to get divorced. The script of this scrapped spin-off was reworked into HIMYF. I’m not saying it’s a direct answer, but what if the divorce storyline is gonna go to HIMYF’s only married main character father option?

- Sophie and Sid both play detective in 2x19. In HIMYM, Ted and Tracy have this running gag that they loved sleuthing

- Both Sophie and Ted went through all the lengths to get with Jesse and Robin, respectively. When Ted met Tracy he didn’t have to work so much, he just let it happen. Both shows work with a philosophy on how love is hard but loving is supposed to be easy. Both Robin and Jesse have complicated love lines with Ted and Sophie, respectively

Also if it’s any consolation, I previously took a film course for my major. So while I do acknowledge that I could be reading into things too much, I did have backing since I tried to incorporate the concepts to pick these things up.

#THE WRITERS ARE MAKING IT MORE OBVIOUS NOW #because why on earth would hannah assume it’s sophie #but that assumption aside #there’s just so many hints on why it’s gonna be sid #sid is the father #how i met your father #himyf #sid and sophie #sid x sophie #sidsophie

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cherryredstars · 2 years ago

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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x gn!reader (established relationship)

Warnings: short references to fighting/neglectful homelife, but mostly fluff

Summary: Taking a day off from work, Miguel sits with you as you both spend the day building legos.

A/N: I had the undying urge to write this after continuously seeing posts about Miguel loving legos and Lego Peter. This is my first time posting anything on Tumblr so I apologize for any mistakes :))

Word Count: 1K (edited, but may still have some errors)

Miguel always loved legos as a kid. Legos were the perfect escape for him. It preoccupied his mind, forcing him to forget about his neglectful parents and disappointing home life. It was the one thing that could be just his, even when he let Gabriel help him when his parents were having screaming matches in the kitchen. Miguel would beam with pride after finishing a set, everything being perfectly in place and showing what time and dedication could result in. Even as an adult with multiple worlds weighing on his shoulders, Miguel still indulged in legos occasionally. He had an impressive collection on display in his personal office at home, but barely any free time to add to it. He suspected that it was one of the major reasons why he loved Lego Peter so much, though he would never admit it to another breathing soul. The smaller Spider-Man reminded him of simpler times. Times before the multiverse consumed his every hour and normalcy was still within reach for him.

Today, however, the multiverse (with reluctance from Miguel) could wait. Or so you say. With your skills of persuasion, (you had called Jess and told her she would have to be in charge for the day as Miguel had “fallen ill”), you had successfully convinced Miguel to take the day off and spend it with you. He had complained at first, but later found himself relaxing as he sat besides you on the living room floor. You had decided that today would be dedicated to quality time between the both of you and that meant you would only do activities you could do together. That’s how Miguel found himself watching you become progressively more frustrated as you tried to build the lego set you had gotten him for his birthday. It never occurred to you that in Miguel’s advanced, futuristic dimension, that legos would also be more advanced and way more complex than what you were used to in your universe.

"I think this is the right piece. This is the right one, right?" you question, your head looking from the instructional pamphlet to the small structure in front of you.

Miguel watches in amusement as you count the pegs on the picture and compare it to the piece you snapped into place. You sigh as you realize that it, in fact, is not the right piece. Of course, Miguel already knew that the second you lifted up the lego piece. But who was he to ruin your concentration? He wouldn’t want to be “nagging” and “a backseat driver", as you so kindly described his previous attempts to help. You lift up the structure to eye-level, trying to gently remove the piece without breaking any of the work already made. You try to slide your nail in between the two pieces, but find that it stubbornly won't disconnect. Of course, even in the future some pieces still get stuck together with no way to remove them.

Your brows furrow at your failed attempts before giving Miguel an exasperated look, “You know, this is supposed to be a fun group activity. Not a ‘let me do nothing but sit around and watch as the love of my life struggles and does all the work’ activity.”

You hand the configuration of legos out to him and he simply raises a brow, "Who said I wasn’t having fun? On the contrary, I find your frustration entertaining." He reaches out and takes the structure from you, “It isn’t my fault you can’t follow simple instructions.”

You roll your eyes at him and hold up the instructions to his face, “How, in any universe, are these instructions classified as ‘simple’.” Even with your Spider intelligence, the symbols and pictures are complicated to follow. Trying to decipher them is an hour-long activity all in itself.

Miguel shakes his head, “The box says for ages 12 and up. You’re in your 20s, yet you can’t understand pictures made for middle schoolers.” Carefully, he extends his claws and slides a single one between the pieces you tried to separate. He takes care to not scratch or damage the legos as his long talon easily disconnects the pieces with a pop. He smirks lazily, smug with the knowledge that he completed the task in seconds while you were struggling for the past two minutes.

He places the structure back into your hands and places the incorrect piece back into the pile on the table. He picks out the correct piece and slides it over to you. You can’t help the smile that spreads on your face as you roll your eyes again, “Yeah, well they made ‘Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader?’ for a reason.”

Miguel sits back against the couch and smiles ever so slightly to himself as you continue building his lego set. Every now and then, you turn back to Miguel with a pout when you need his help separating legos or building a particular section. Of course, this leads to more snide and teasing remarks from him, but he can’t ever deny you anything and he can’t deny that your reliance on him does wonderful things for his ego. Eventually, you end up sliding over the whole set of instructions to him, prompting him to explain the next steps to you. The process goes by much quicker with Miguel telling you what pieces to use and where they go. The structure is done in less than 3 hours, halving the time it would take you if you had done it alone.

Later, Miguel sits in his office. He works on catching up on everything he had missed on his day off. It’s late into the night and the only source of light comes from the yellow screens that he studies. By now, you are already in a deep sleep down the hall in your shared bedroom. As he works, Miguel can’t keep his eyes from straying. Even in the dark, his enhanced eyes can clearly see the finished lego set placed front and center on his shelf. It is surrounded by framed photos of the both of you together and other miscellaneous trinkets you had given him throughout the course of your relationship. It is a shelf dedicated solely to his relationship with you. He scans the shelf once more with a small smile and Miguel thinks to himself that, just maybe, legos aren't the only thing that make him feel normal again.

I am so sorry if any of the writing is shitty! It has been a good year since I wrote anything. I promise (hopefully) these will get better as I write more! But, I hope you enjoyed it :)).

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #atsv #atsv fanfiction #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara fluff

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barkingbaekhyun · 1 year ago

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Trent Lane x F!Reader pt.1

Based off the show Daria No warnings other than drug use Pt. 2

“Okay.” I calmly say to myself as I look down at my drumsticks that were now snapped in half. Having them in the back pocket of my jeans was risky for me but then sitting down..embarrassing. I get up from my couch sighing softly as I grab my coat and keys before heading out the door.

I pull into the small parking lot of the music store and head inside. I had a gig at The Zon in like 30 minutes. It was my first gig with this new band, and I haven’t even met all of them yet. My cousin, Jesse, got me the position of drummer for Mystik Spiral. It was an interesting name I will say. “Thanks.” I say to the clerk before he hands me my small bag with my new drumsticks inside. Thankfully for me The Zon was only a block away from the store. Once inside, I ditched the bag, throwing it in the trash bin. I walked over to Jesse, who raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. “It’s too embarrassing don’t ask.” I wave him off with a scowl as he begins to talk, “We go on in a bit.” I give him a thumbs up in response making my way to the bar and ordering myself a drink.

“You must be my brother’s new drummer.” I hear a blank low tone voice say from the side of me. I look over to see a short-haired girl with dark makeup, I give her a small smile before responding. “Yeah, what gave me up?” She smirks as her eyes glance behind me, “Your drumsticks are in your back pocket. That and my brother always talks about you.” I frown at this information to which she backtracks, “I promise my brother isn’t creepy he just thinks you’re really good on drums.” If anything that didn’t help. “I’ve never met your brother. How does he know what I sound like? If anything I was a last-minute choice.” She pierces her lips together and it looks like she is going to say something but decides not to do so, “You know I can’t defend him on that. That does sound creepy.”

The girl's name was Jane. I had been talking to her for a bit and found her to be pretty chill and interesting. It turns out she has good music taste too. “Y/N!” I hear Jesse shout from the side of the stage. I excused myself before finishing my drink and making my way over to Jesse and the two guys standing next to him. I give a small wave as Jesse talks, “Y/N this is Nicholas and Trent guys this is my cousin.” The pink-haired one, Nicholas, nods with a smile and I return it. There wasn’t enough time for introductions so I took my seat at the drums already on the stage. Thank you to the man before me for letting me play his drums. I raise my right stick at him, and he raises the drink I bought him with a smile. “Hey, we’re Mystik Spiral and this one’s for Daria and Jane,” Trent says into the mic before counting down and tapping his foot for us to start on cue. “When the aliens come, when the death rays hum. When the bobbers bomb, we’ll still be freakin’ friends.”

After the set, Trent returns with beers and hands me one. I lean against the wall and take a sip. “So, your sister tells me you like listening to me play,” I say with a grin hiding behind the bottle. “Yeah, you sound pretty good. We went to high school together. Heard you play in the music room.” He replies in a laidback manner. I respond with a frown and straighten myself against the wall. "You played so loud in the music room that people got headaches in the classroom next door." He grins lightly and continues, "I should thank you for all the quizzes you got canceled." I smile to myself and take another sip of beer. "Your sister made you sound creepy." I chucked. "Yeah, Janey's got a way with words," he said with a slight hint of sarcasm. "I could use some pizza. Y/N wanna come with?" I nod, "Yeah, the only thing in my system is alcohol." We both chuckle as we finish our beers and leave The Zon.

A month later

"I can't believe you're working for the man." I hear a familiar, monotone voice say something behind me. I stop cleaning the table, and I turn to face Trent and see Nicolas and Jesse behind him. I give them a "hi" before they go take seats in a booth, leaving Trent and I alone. I asked Trent how he was feeling after noticing the bags under his eyes. "You look tired. Rough night?" I folded the rag and continued to clean the table as he replied, "Family’s in town; I can’t stay at the house, so I’m staying in the tank." I squint and raise an eyebrow. "The tank?" I asked as he yawned. "It used to be a van." I finish wiping down the table and offer for him to crash on my couch. “That is, if you don’t mind the underlying depression coating the walls." He dryly chuckles and coughs midway before speaking, “You’re funny Y/N, I’ll wait here till your shift is done so we can drive to your place after.” I give him a small smile and he goes to sit with the two duds in the booth.

The drive was okay. I felt like I was making it awkward since I was nervous about him seeing my apartment. It wasn't dirty or anything like that it's the fact I've grown a crush on this guy and he's crashing on my couch. What if he thinks I'm a mess? What if he judges me for the way my apartment looks? I can't believe I'm worrying about his opinion when I've seen him throw up on the side of the road. “Everything okay Y/N?” His voice breaks me out of my spiral. I glanced over at him to see him staring and noticed that we were already at my apartment. "Mhm, just tired. My bad." I reply, gathering my coat and keys in my hands before getting out of the car. “No need to explain, I understand. After every gig I just wanna go lay on my couch. It's tough out there..." He replies as we head to my door and I unlock it stepping inside. I was overly exhausted from today to even unpack what he just said so I just locked the door and made my way to my room. "Cool place." He says walking around my living room and taking an interest in my bongs on the shelf. "We can smoke after I'm out of the shower." I say watching him sit at my drums and grabbing the sticks next to it. "Sick. I'll play you something." He says and I hear him hit the crash cymbal as I head to my room.

As I exit my room with a small bag and hairbrush, I find Trent reading one of my magazines in the living room. "Here you start packing. Was it boring out here without me?" I ask with a smile passing him the bag I brought out. He gives me a grin as he begins to pack the bong. "Yeah, I gave myself a headache playing your drums. How was your shower? Your singing sounded good Y/N." I blush with embarrassment and grab my brush to occupy my nervous state. "By the way can I borrow your toothbrush? I usually use Janey's when I don't have mine." I couldn't tell if he was being serious so I gave him a questioning look. He blankly stares at me and I look for any sign of him joking but I never do. "Uh, I actually have some new ones in the drawer in the bathroom. You can use one of those." I inform him and keep brushing my hair as he goes back to packing.

Trent lights the candle on the table in front of us and I get more comfortable on the couch before taking a rip. "This candle burns so slow...will it grow...will it grow." Trent sings dryly as I cough and hand him the bong to clear it. "Hey-that..." I coughed for a moment before continuing, "That was good." He gives me a tired smile before taking his own rip of the bong. "The feeling of smoke...going down my throat..." I continue with a dry chuckle, "Dryness coats my throat." He breaks out into a series of coughs as I cross my legs and face him on the couch. "I think we should start a band." He wheezed making me smile. He sets the bong down and turns his body to face me. "Thank you for letting me crash here. Anything's better than the tank." He states whilst I yawn, "No problem, you're my friend Trent. None of my friends are sleeping in something that used to be a van." I spoke feeling my eyes get a bit droopy. "I should head to bed now. Feel free to finish the rest. Goodnight." I smile warmly at him and he leans in to place a gentle kiss on my cheek. "Goodnight Y/N." A blush creeps on my cheeks and he pulls back. I noticed him warmly smiling at me, his eyes trailing around a bit and I reciprocated with a smile of my own. "Goodnight," I repeat once more as I get up from the couch. As I head to my room, my smile grows wider. I'm not blushing, you're blushing,

* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ * 。° 。 •˚ * 。 • 。° ˚ • ˛ * 。

#daria #trent lane #daria imagines #trent lane x reader #jane lane #tumblr #imagine #x reader #mtv #mtv daria #blaze

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lxverrings · 1 year ago

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Private Tutoring.

A Miguel O’hara fic.

Disclaimer: No smut (maybe if people like this enough, I will write more to it?), just a silly potential series, it’s just goofy. I saw a post about a frat boy Miguel and I was like “Wouldn’t it be funny if it was reversed?” and here it is!

Summary: Mean Nerd!Miguel x Nice Jock!Reader ; Gold retriever and Black Cat dynamics, Reader is hella short (in comparison to Miguel) and genuinely just goofy and distracted. (She’s doing her best...)

“AND SCORE, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THAT IS IT, OUR FIRST 7 TO 1 GAME, DIDN’T THINK WE WOULD MAKE IT THIS FAR AND NOW-”

You could hear the speakers blaring as the last touchdown announcement roared through your ears, slipping off the helmet as you gasped for air. The star of the show. You never thought you would make it this far as you wiped your nose with a bright smile, shining in front of your sour mother and overly proud father. Testament of all the people you outshined and proved wrong in the brink of collapse.

The precipice of the show was here, and you held the trophy to your chest with a gleaming smile.

Jaws were open, and people were shocked- a woman playing football? More likely than you thought. And the best part was? It was genuinely fun!!!

Trudging your way to the locker room with your shiny trophy, as you washed yourself up... You couldn’t stop staring at it. The water trickled down your face as you massaged the shampoo on your hair... It was amazing. It felt amazing. Your recent new date, Kevin would probably smile and pat your head, and your best friend, Jess, would smile and hug you. Peter would laugh and ruffle your hair and Kevin would roll his eyes at him. You couldn’t wait as-

A sudden alarm glared into your ears- a jump scare warning would be nice...

“...Please come to the Principal’s Office as soon as possible.”

You quickly got dressed after washing off the sweat, picking up your trophy and mentally begging it wasn’t your misogynistic mother yelling at you to come to the office.

...

You jogged your way up to the office, “Hey Prez!” you chirped out with a smile- immediately paling at the sight.

The room was dour, a man, larger than the principal, larger than many bullies who picked on your friends and later on gained their respect, was sitting in the table, a dark look in his crimson red eyes, a dark, sharp glare as his glasses were lowered lightly.

The principal was a stubborn, sharp man, someone you befriended a bit back– befriended really isn’t the word, you twat. Thank goodness you were only thinking that.

“... Am I in trouble...?” you muttered as the principal gestured you to sit down.

...

“Not at all, miss.” he began, calmly, “I have called you here today to tutor Miguel here. Mr. O’hara is a college senior, a grade above you, and currently working hard for his business degree, however, it seems he lacks a social circle that benefits him... And you, madam, your grades are slipping quite a bit, so I have decided to offer you the private sector of the library to study together and for you– Mr. O’hara...” he paused, as Miguel grunted, “–Just socialize. That will be all.”

The two of you were shooed out, and Miguel immediately began to walk away.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

“Cállate, chiquita.” Miguel glared down from his demeaning eyes, and imposing stature, “You go right back to whatever hole you crawled out of, niñita.²”

... Rude.

You quickly jogged after him to keep up, “Hey, we’re not done here, mister– the principal sai–”

“I do not care what he said or what he wants. Go away you annoying fly.”

...Rude!

“Hey, c’mon, you heard him, please?” you spoke gently, still rushing after him, “I haven’t even told you my name!” you added, grabbing his wrist, the massive trunk was strange, your hand barely wrapped around his wrist, quietly gulping as he glared.

“Yo yá sé quién eres, muñequita.”

He then twisted his wrist away– or tried, but you just wouldn’t let up, as you grabbed on and clung with both hands.

“Hey! C’mon! Please! I– ... Give me a chance, will you? Just... Let me get to know you. You’ve never met me, yet you judge me based on only what you’ve heard... Not what you actually know.”

The silence was palpable as he stared at you.

He finally groaned and stopped.

“Fine. But not today, you can come along with me to the library.”

“Really?!”

“Sólo por hoy.”

You smiled brightly as you skittered after him, quickly chatting...

...

“–And with that, bam! You wouldn’t believe how simple it can be to convince people with just enough determination!” you were chatting up a storm, but... soon, you came to realize that what the principal said was true. He grunted and grumbled in response most of the times you spoke. You could feel your eyes soften a bit, looking up at him.

“Hey. You really don’t like talking, do you, big guy?” you asked gently, tugging on his sleeve to get him to look at you.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he grumbled, as he stared down at you.

“...it is but... Do you, want me to keep talking? Am I boring you?”

He paused, suddenly silent as he looked at you.

“... You’re annoying, yes. But... No, I’m not bored.”

“... That’s good.”

“What?”

“That’s good.” you repeated, with more certainty, suddenly bursting out laughing, a warm smile on your face as your cheeks turned red.

“Wha– What’s so funny?!” he suddenly yelled, confused, and maybe even angry, as you kept laughing, smiling brightly.

“Oh, god. I was starting to think I was boring you, and you felt nothing... And look! Look! I got you to speak!” you smiled brightly, your eyes twinkling like stars.

“... Yeah. You did.” he seemed a little irritated, and even a little defeated, but you smiled as the two of you arrived to the library.

...

“When is this nightmare over?” you groaned as you slumped on the desk, pouting as he suddenly quietly chuckled, holding the Calculus book.

“Sé vá acabar cuándo en serio intentes trabajar.”

You whined again as you gave him a pouty look, “Can’t we try later? Please? A break? I’m begging you, you can come over to my dorm– and– and– I’ll order pizza and then we can talk about it. Please? If it gets late, you can sleep over!” you kept complaining. Seriously, who thought calculus was a good idea?

Answer? Absolutely fucking nobody.

“...fine.” he sighed, closing the book, rolling his eyes as he took off his glasses... His face was so hot under the library lighting, and you couldn’t help but stare a little before shaking your head to snap out of it.

“Yay! Thank you, Miguel!” you smiled warmly, tightly hugging him for a moment, which left him stunned, as you left for the door, leaving your dorm room number behind.

...

‘What an enigma of a woman. És tan irritante, ésa tonta chamaca. Yet... No, no, snap out of it.’

...

Soon enough, he did arrive at your house, and the two of you set on ordering pizza and studying. Well, as much as you could.

Not that this made much sense to you whatsoever, so you just looked up at him with little lost eyes and a pout that made him grumble in irritation...

...

But eventually, after hours of being verbally abused in Spanish, the lesson was over, and you just laughed gently.

“Have you ever done this before?”

“Done what? Tutor? I have.”

“No, no... This.” you answered, as he raised an eyebrow in confusion, “I mean hang out. You know? Like with friends?”

“I don’t have friends.”

“What nonsense... I’m your friend.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” you smiled, and he, once again, rolled his eyes.

Divider by: @ across-the-art-verse

Translations:

1. “Shut up, little one.”

2. “–Little Girl.”

3. “I already know who you are, little doll.”

4. “Just for today.”

5. “It’ll be done when you seriously try to work on it.”

6. “–She is so irritating, that dumb girl.”

Thank you for reading ♡

#miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #reader x miguel #𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔

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starglaee · 8 months ago

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The Tortured Karate Department - Thoughts

Each song from The Tortured Poets Department applies to Cobra Kai/ Cold Hearted in some aspect.

For context, I am a major swiftie and love Cobra Kai so much that I've written a fanfic with an OC named Zion. If you're interested it's on Wattpad, titled Cold Hearted, and my username there is the same as here.

Anyway, I listen to this album and can't help thinking about Cobra Kai characters while I do.

Here are my thoughts. Feel free to add on if you wish!

Fortnight

Cobra Kai (CK): SamRobby. They were so shortlived and this is especially relevant if we go with the plot of Sam looking at Robby during the prom episode: “Your wife waters flowers. I wanna kill her.”

The Tortured Poets Department

Cobra Kai (CK): Amanda and Daniel because she always keeps it real with him: “This ain’t the Chelsea Hotel. We’re two idiots.”

Cold Hearted (CH): Elion (Eli and Zion) at the end of season 2 based on when he says he’ll be with her forever but this is from his POV: “At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on, and that’s the closest I’ve come to my heart exploding.”

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys:

Cobra Kai (CK): Tory with Kreese (obviously not romantically) as he manipulates her but kind of cares: “I’m queen of sandcastles he destroys.”

Cold Hearted (CH): It’s the same but with Zion: “Once I fix me, he’s gonna miss me.” (Foreshadowing for season 6?)

Down Bad

CK and CH: Robby, because all I can think about is at the beginning of season 4 when he was lifting weights and debating leaving: “Now I’m down bad crying at the gym. Everything comes out teenage petulance.”

So Long, London

CK: I’m trying to make this one fit, but honestly none of the relationships are long-term and unhealthy enough (that I can think of?) in this show to really fit Taylor’s heartbreaking writing for this song. Even finding one for Cold Hearted is difficult.

CH: I feel like this can be Zion mourning the loss of Santa Maria and in part her mom with everything suddenly in her past when she can’t take the abuse anymore. But this song isn’t really about abuse. I’d come at it more from the idea of losing the good parts of a childhood home and her moving on despite what her dad may have wanted for her. Maybe.: “I’m just mad as hell ‘cause I loved this place for so long, London. Had a good run.”

But Daddy I Love Him

CK: Okay, so if I had to choose I’d say this applies to season 1 Samiguel with the whole Daniel hating Miguel by association with Johnny: “Even my daddy just loves him.”

CH: I think it fits Zion and Jess well by illustrating their coming out. I know it’s not necessarily queer song and is written from the lens of a massive superstar sick of everyone weighing in on her life, but it also captures the drama of being in high school and being gay in high school specifically. It also works for Tory and Piper who are girlfriends in CH: “I’ll tell you something right now. I’d rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitchin’ and moanin’.”

Fresh Out the Slammer

CK: I’d say this fits Tory and Robby, but instead of the slow burn with them in the parole office I’d say this applies to Tory’s escape in season 5 episode 10 when she meets up with Robby after finally breaking free from Silver and kisses him: “Camera flashes, welcome bashes, get the matches, toss the ashes off the ledge… I will never lose my baby again.”

CH: Zobby (Robby and Zion), if that wasn’t obvious from reading the later chapters of my season 4: “Now pretty baby I’m running back home to you. Fresh out the slammer I know who my first call will be to.”

Florida!!!

CK and CH: Miguel running away at the beginning of season 5 to Mexico: “I need to forget so take me to Florida. I’ve got some regrets I’ll bury them in Florida.”

Guilty As Sin?

CK: for shits and giggles this one is Silver. Just for the fact that he’s arrested as of season 5’s finale teehee.

CH: Zion because she never cheated!: “Without ever touching his skin how can I be guilty as sin?”

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?

CK and CH: Literally any woman on the show! ANY! But if I had to choose it’d be the main 3 (Tory, Sam, and Zion): “‘cause you lured me and you hurt me and you taught me. You caged me, and then you called me crazy. I am what I am ‘cause you trained me.”

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

CK: Idk the Lawrusso shipper in me thinks this fits for them specifically in early season 4 when they try to work together and fail. Or when Kreese finds Silver and brings out the PTSD again: “Whoa, maybe I can’t.”

loml

CK: I feel like if Johnny knew Taylor’s deep cuts he’d listen to this and think about Alli idk: “We embroidered the memories of the time I was away, stitching, ‘We were just kids, babe.’”

CH: Again it feels like an Elion (Eli and Zion) song but this time from Zion’s POV after he said they’d be together forever: “You shit talked me under the table, talking rings and talking cradles. I wish I could recall how we almost had it all.”

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

CK: Tory saying “I broke up with him because of this dojo, you bitch!” Yep. That’s her.: “Try and come for my job.”

CH: I feel like overall this also applies to Zion taking shit and just training through it: “I cry a lot, but I am so productive. It’s an art.”

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

CK: Tory with Silver after she learns about his involvement with Stingray's assault and the All Valley cheating: “You kicked out the stage lights but you're still performing.”

CH: The same with Zion and Silver but arguably worse: “And in plain sight you hid, but you are what you did, and I’ll forget you but I’ll never forgive.”

The Alchemy

CK: Lawrusso isn’t technically canon (yes it is), but if they were this is a cute song for them. I can’t really explain it, so you either get it or you don’t: “‘cause the sign in your heart says it’s still reserved for me. Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?”

CH: Teehee this is self-indulgent but it’s Zobby (Zion and Robby): “Ditch the clowns get the crown. Baby, I’m the one to beat.”

Clara Bow

CK: From Daniel to Sam to Anthony for the LaRusso legacy: “Them’s the breaks. They don’t come gently.”

CH: From Aisha/ Zion to Zion/Tory to Devon for the Cobra Kai girl’s legacy: “You’ve got edge; she never did. The future’s bright. Dazzling.”

The Black Dog

CK and CH: Robby about Sam while he’s in prison and she’s training at Miyagi-Do without him: “Old habits die screaming.”

imgonnagetyouback

CK: Okay, I’ll be cute again. Lawrusso. Do they fight? Do they kiss? How about both?: “Whether I’m gonna flip you off or pull you into the closet, I haven’t decided yet.”

Elion (self-indulgent) in season 3 with the on-and-off flirting and hating: “And I’ll tell you one thing, honey, I could take the upper hand and touch your body, flip the script and leave you like a dumb house party. Or I might just love you til the end.”

The Albatross

CK: It’s about the Miyagi-Do legacy Daniel passes to Sam and Robby OR Johnny explaining how to handle the trauma of Cobra Kai to the young Cobras: ”You were sleeping soundly when they dragged you from your bed, and I tried to warn you about them.”

CH: It can also be from Daniel to Zion about redemption and forgiveness after breaking free from Silver’s Cobra Kai and coming to Miyagi-Do: “I’ll tell you how I’ve been there, too, and that none of it matters.”

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus

CK: Oddly enough I think pre-CK Shannon would find this song drunk and think about Johnny. She’d always wonder if he could have been there for her and loved her like he is now with Carmen. Maybe that’s a stretch: “Will I always wonder?”

CH: I feel like Robby for the brief part of season 5 when he leaves Zion he’d relate to this song: “You needed me but you needed drugs more. And I couldn’t watch it happen.”

How Did It End?

CK: Sam because her relationships are everywhere and each breakup - Kyler, Miguel, and Robby - is such a massive thing in high school: “It’s happening again.”

CH: This also applies to Zion because there are so many rumors about her. I’d say in the beginning/ early parts of season 3 is when this is most applicable: “‘Didn’t you hear they called it all off?’ One gasp and then, ‘How did it end?’”

So High School:

CK: I believe Carmen feels So High School with Johnny, despite me not being a Jarmen shipper. I just think about that little dream she had and want the best for her. Just like this song is the best: "You knew what you wanted and boy, you got her."

thanK you aIMee

CH: Zion about Gabi, her former enemy who outed her in Santa Maria: “'Cause all that time you were throwing punches it was all for nothing.”

I Look In People’s Windows:

CK: I think about season one Miguel going over to the LaRusso's house and seeing Robby eating dinner with them when I hear this song. He jumped to conclusions and got drunk angrily without communicating to Sam, too: "So I look in people's windows like I'm some deranged weirdo. I attend Christmas parties from outside. I look in people's windows in case you're at their table."

The Prophecy

CK and CH: What if I just say everyone at one point has related to this song? I'd be absolutely right.

Cassandra

CK: Tory because she is cursed with knowing Silver cheated without being able to do anything about it, she warns Daniel and he gets hurt, and then Kreese abandons her while she struggles to even stay at the dojo: “So they killed Cassandra first ‘cause she feared the worst and tried to tell the town.”

Peter

CK: Kumiko with Daniel for obvious reasons. I do love them.: “You said you were gonna grow up then you were gonna come find me.”

The Bolter

CH: Zion because she keeps running away when things are scary as a trauma response - for example with Miguel’s fall and Silver’s attack: “Ended with the slam of a door then he’ll call her a whore, wish he wouldn’t be sore, but as she was leaving it felt like breathing.”

Robin

CK: This songs reminds me of that one scene that shows a flashback of Daniel training Sam in Miyagi-Do when she was young: "Way to go, Tiger. Higher and higher. Wilder and lighter. For you."

CH: Zion to Ella in season 3 as she teaches her and tries to protect her from the world: “You’ll learn to bounce back just like your trampoline.”

The Manuscript

CK: It doesn't apply because these characters don't move on from or properly cope with anything lmao

CH: For adult Zion looking back on the trauma: “But the story isn’t mine anymore.”

Please add to this or share your opinions. I'd really like to see them.

#cobra kai #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #the tortured poets department the anthology #ttpd #cobra kai fanfiction #daniel larusso #johnny lawrence #the karate kid #miguel diaz #robby keene #eli moskowitz #tory nichols #sam larusso

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