#at least until i play tlou2

[timelesslords]

saw someone in the tags of a fic mention neil druckmann's interpretation of the ending and i was like "ooh sounds interesting let me go look it up." should've just minded my own damn business bc wtf was that

[sideeve]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀LITTLE MISS PERFECT

synopsis : getting homosexual tendencies for her best friend? absolutely not!

note : i just started playing tlou2 again and my love for abby and ellie blossomed again. naughty dog knew what they were doing

ft. : questioning homosexuality, internalized homophobia, non-apocalyptic au, implied smut but not that descriptive, ellie already has a crush on reader but it’s not really described until they kiss and what not.

you search through the rack of bras, lazily looking for one that at least looks fitting. you huff, starting to lose hope. your hands stop at one. a black lacy one, which if your wore, would cover nothing. it reminded you of that erotic video you found went internet surfing.

two women alone together, exploring each other’s bodies. their tongues acting like a paintbrush and their bodies were canvases, covered in saliva.

you press your lips together, trying to push down the tingling in your body. you can’t be gay. you literally have a crush on that ABC news host.

“[name], honey? did you find one yet?” your mother asks, messing with the displayed jewelry. “no, there’s nothing here.” you sigh, hiding the bra in the rack.

you had no problem with homosexuality. hell, your whole search history is the complete opposite of heterosexuality. your best friend is a lesbian. but there is no way you’re gay. that’s…just not you.

after many of those “are you gay” tests, your answers remain the same. ‘you’re most definitely a lesbian, babes’.

you lay on ellie’s bed, blindly flipping through one of her many comic books. you blow raspberry, getting bored a little. “what?” she diverts her eyes from her TV for a second before tending back to her game.

“nothing.” you flip a few more pages until your eyes land on a certain panel. two girls in close proximity, lips ghosting over each other. you swallow a large lump, trying to push away the thoughts again.

but now you can only think of you in that situation. curled up next to a girl, her hand rubbing softly on your waist.

you try to picture what she would look like, only seeing your best friend’s face. you groan, rolling on your back.

“ellie?” she hums in response. you fiddle with your thumbs before asking the question. “how did you know you were gay?”

her game pauses. “what?” she looks at you before her eyes travels to her opened comic book. “ooooh.” she laughs, picking up the book. “you picked the one i didn’t want you to get.” she closes the book, stuffing it under her bed.

she leans back, propping herself up with her arms. “ i dunno. i just…” she shrugs, “never pictured myself with a guy. and you know, boobies.”

you softly hit her, making her laugh. “i’m serious, ellie. i think i might be gay. lesbian, bi-i don’t know!” you groan, stuffing your face in your hands.

“i mean, why don’t you?” she lays on her side, looking at you. “that ABC news host.”

“David Muir?”

you nod, making her scoff. “do you have a crush on any guy at job?” she twirls a strand of your hair in her fingers. “god no. they all look like troglodytes.” you grimace at the thought of liking them.

“can you picture yourself marrying a man for the rest of your life?”

that question made your stomach drop. you feel bile pile up in your throat. ‘yes, you can’ you try to convince yourself.

“no, i guess not.” you give a slight frown at your answer, looking down.

“hey, it’s normal. not everyone is straight. and you sure aren’t.” she laughs. “oh shut it!” you huff.

she stops laughing after a while. “well, let’s kiss to see if you are gay.” she suggest so nonchalantly. kiss? your best friend?

“uhhhh..” “if you don’t like it, we don’t have to ever talk about it.”

you look at her, contemplating whether you should go through with this. you couldn’t deny that ellie was very attractive. you could say that she was your “gay awakening”. they way she was naturally flirty with you was the beginning of the questioning phase for you.

“let’s do it.” you sit on your legs, waiting for her to kiss you.

she gives you a soft smile, getting up.

“you sure?” she questions, not wanting this to go wrong. you nod.

she takes a deep breath, putting her hand on your cheek to pull you in.

your skin ignites. this is what you’ve dreamed of. intimacy with a woman. natural intimacy. not like those forced erotic videos you watch in your free time.

her lips press on yours, her eyelashes tickling the apple of your cheek. you reciprocate the affection, putting a hand on her cheek.

a moan slips from your lips, your eyes fluttering shut. the hand on your cheek falls to your hips, her hand squeezing for a few moments to tell her that this is real; this is actually happening.

in a flurry, her body is pressed on top of yours, her tongue exploring every crevice on your mouth. her hands slipped under the hem of your jeans, fingers brushing over the seat of your panties.

you card your hands through her auburn hair. “els…” you call to her as she pulls away, a string of saliva connecting from hers and your bottom lip.

“you okay, princess?” she moves her hand at an angle, her thumb drawing tight circles on the pearl of your cunt. you arch into her, making her chuckle.

you nod, a moan slipping from your lips again.

“yeah, you’re definitely gay.” she giggles, stuffing her face in the crook of your neck, making you laugh too. “shut up and use your hands, ellie.”

“oh, i know something better than my hands.” she leaves your neck for a moment, digging under her bed.

she pulls out a harness. one not built for your shoulders. the purpose accessory catches your eye, making you widen them. “is that…”

“i haven’t used it yet.” she smirks. “your call.”

do you have enough red orbs? stop by my store to request a fic!

[cuntressgoingdigital]

HEART 2 HEART | abby anderson x reader

free palestine! click this link for more info + dono links

synopsis: you comfort abby after her fight with mel in the aquarium

notes: this was written haphazardly while i was bored at work. i'm replaying tlou2 and this scene made me sad so here we are.

cw: sfw , gn! reader, hurt/comfort, gay yearning, kinda angsty, abby sexuality crisis, not quite a happy ending?, not exactly proofread

word count: 1k

you and abby’s shared sleeping bag lacked her warmth when you awoke. it took you a few moments to recognize your surroundings. this was your first time in the aquarium and naturally you were on your guard the entire time. it wasn’t that you didn’t trust owen and mel, you just didn’t know them. they had taken to yara and lev nice enough, so you assumed they were benevolent to some degree. in the very least, they weren’t a threat.

muffled voices drew you closer to the door that separated the makeshift bedroom and the main corridor of the aquarium. still groggy, you attempt to make out who the voices belonged to. after a few lines of indiscernible conversation, you could make out only a few words.

“you’re a piece of shit abby! you always have been.” 

you felt like an interloper, hesitant to bear witness to this conversation. so, you waited until silence took over.

abby was your best friend, even if you weren’t hers. you accompanied her on her secret mission to go “save” owen. you held no alliance to him, or any other member of the salt lake crew. your love for abby put you in this clusterfuck of a situation and you didn’t regret any second of it. 

you ran a semi-secret intel operation. you read every document, no matter if it were a chore list or religious text, that was recovered from the dead seraphites during patrols. isaac insisted it would encourage more thorough and devastating battle plans, but after a while the only thing you felt was guilt. 

abby, as isaac’s top scar killer, almost always had something to deliver to you. she always made idle conversation with you. as time went on your conversations became longer and your feelings for her grew. she attempted to introduce you to her other friends, but there was always an air of clique-ishness. they didn’t have room for new personalities it seemed. 

but, abby was always drawn to you. when manny needed the room she would often slip into your bed at night and snuggle into you for warmth. when she couldn’t sleep you would run your fingers through her long blonde hair and quietly hum to  music that wasn’t playing while you read through documents. after nearly a month straight of her coming to share your bed, you began to suspect that her absence wasn’t always at manny’s request. 

in her off time she would accompany you on random fetch quests at the behest of isaac. if you were sent across the stadium to complete some task isaac decided was beneath him, abby would follow behind you as you skipped along and chatted endlessly about something or another. sometimes she would talk back, but a lot of the time she just enjoyed hearing your voice. 

the sound of something metal hitting the floor drew you out of the room and out into the open. 

“abs?” you whispered. 

she didn’t turn to look at you, her eyes trained on the fish tank behind her. her fingers pawed at her cheeks wiping away the few tears that dared to fall. 

you took a few steps and slid down to the floor, back pressed against the fish tank. “come on.” you patted the space next to you. 

like a wounded dog she did as she was told and plopped down onto the floor next to you. you wrapped your arm around her as she rested her head on your shoulder.

“was that mel?” you had no idea what was going on with them. tensions were already high between them because of their shared love for owen. 

abby had only mentioned once, maybe six months ago that she still had some semblance of feelings for owen. she was really drunk and you had tried hard to forget. that had an obvious impact on her relationship with mel. after jackson things only seemed to get worse. 

you never asked, and abby never told. 

“i don’t know what the fuck i’m doing anymore. things were so easy a week ago.” a few of her tears ran down onto the sleeve of your shirt. 

“am i a bad person?” 

you could tell the question was almost rhetorical. any outright denial would be an attempt to stroke her wounded ego and an agreement was obviously not what she needed right now. much less was it something you would ever think to say. 

“i think you’re trying.” you whispered. this was a tender moment for only you and her to share. “abby from last week probably wouldn’t have come back for me or those kids.” you intertwined your fingers with hers. “there is no metric for a ‘good person’. the only thing that matters is you’re trying to be better than you were yesterday.” 

you could feel her holding her breath, likely trying to stave away any more tears. she sniffled and you kissed the back of her hand. 

“i love you, abs. okay?” 

it wasn’t your first time saying these words to her. most times it was in jest after you had been purposely annoying and you could tell she was losing her patience. or when she would save you an extra of your favorite meal from the mess hall. but, you always meant it. you loved her to the moon and back and would follow her anywhere. maybe you were too stupid and idealistic, but you would love her even if she never reciprocated your feelings. she was your forever, even if that meant being her lighthearted companion until the end of time. even if that meant dying in her arms. 

her puffy, teary blue eyes caught yours. she pressed her forehead against yours and lowly whispered your name. “i–“

yara sprinted into the room, looking mildly panicked. the two of you turned to her, immediately breaking the brief moment of solace you had found in each other.

“nice shirt.” abby gestured to yara’s t-shirt with a cartoon otter printed on it. 

abby often considered saying it back. kissing you in the darkness of your room. but, that would require parsing through her feelings for you. for owen. her sexuality. it was all too much. 

and it was certainly something she didn’t have time for right now. 

but, one day.

one day she would. 

[primaviva]

about to say something a bit controversial depending on who gets to this lil brain vomit first 🙈🙈 however, i jus think there's something intriguing about the last of us writing fandom on this site, particularly in light of the last of us II most recent game. we are aware that the creator of the last of us is a zionist, and that his interactions with palestinians during his time as an Israeli fueled his hatred for them all, which is evident in ellie as she pursues those responsible for joel's death. i mention that merely to put things in perspective—as of right now, we are living through a genocide. i should add that this genocide really got underway in october and hasn't stopped on its course of murderous tyranny since. how does this tie with the fandom of the last of us? i have learned that the writers have chosen to go on strike as of recently. i hardly read ellie fics as much; instead, i just write what people ask me to write. the phrase "there is a genocide happening right now" is used a lot in these posts on the strike, and while it is true that a genocide is happening right now, it has been going for a period of time. i just find this arrogant. before the news of the tlou creator's zionist affiliation spread out through the media, individuals had no trouble writing for the game, editing it, or posting about it. even though it was widely known last month that the author is a zionist, individuals still seemed to feel safe talking about it. however, this month, as more attention has been focused on it, it appears that people want to take action. honestly, it seems like until palestine's relationship with the game was directly impacted, a strike or any awareness of the issue would never take place. additionally, compared to more mainstream media, tumblr's fanfic writing section is far more independent, thus this boycott has no effect—and boycotts are meant to have an impact. on top of that, this boycott is only going to last for one week, which makes it so forgettable and ultimately ineffective in raising awareness. moreover, i noticed that most people kept writing for ellie for at least a few days leading up to the start of the boycott date, at which point they abruptly started posting about palestine and people who were following the strike, all the while continuing to reblog tlou2 remastered ellie content, such as her new costumes. it just seems performative and lacks structure to actually do something meaningful to the injustices happening right now.

anyways, keep in mind to post about palestine, refrain from purchasing the remastered version of the last of us II to line the coffers of that zionist, and refrain from streaming the upcoming season of the live action show when it premieres (unless illegally…)

and don’t twist my words! i do support this strike and think it is a nice form for writers to play their part so with that being said we should not be posting anything until it is over. however… i have to acknowledge the hypocrisy/flaws that comes with it. i know my moot/friend @ashsostrange said something about this but i just wanted to bring my own thoughts especially as a writer.

[y2kas13]

Part two…

I think I may have perceived the Neil druckmann situation to be a little different than you did. Neil druckmann is from Israel and witnessed this brutality and genocide first hand, since Palestine and Israel have been fighting for many years! He said witnessing this caused a deep anger in him that he harnessed when writing tlou2…

I thought he was using art to make a comment on the situation. Like, he wanted to show that constant fighting over land and religion never leads to anything good. Literally, they showed that the constant fighting between the scars and WLF lead to the demise of both groups. As Shakespeare said, art holds a mirror to reality. Through art, we can make intentional choices that will evoke certain feelings in people. Because of all of the vengeance and violence they participated in, Abby and Ellie both lost everything. Could it be that this theme was missed by you? Art is meant to evoke visceral responses, so it kinda seems like he did his job with that. Also, he supplied financial support to both the Palestine and Israelis, so I’m not entirely sure how it was concluded that he hates Palestine. (I think what is happening oversees is absolutely disgusting, but I don’t see how Naughty Dog is perpetuating the war. Also, you never know what someone has been through or seen, so you really can’t condemn people for compartmentalizing in order to make it through. That is how/why some people are able to temporarily put the bad shit to the back of their mind for a few hours while they click some buttons on a controller.) What is the goal with not buying remastered tlou2? I want to help, but I don’t see how not purchasing a video game will make anything better. I want to understand. Remastered was auto-downloaded to my ps5, since I had it in my wishlist for a while. They already have my money for it, so might as well play it? They can’t benefit anymore from me playing it I don’t think…

while I can agree in the game you see how both side's actions are harmful to one another this isn't the case in real life. In Tlou its clear cut that no side is truly "evil" just the product of violence that isn't their own until they take on the violence but that's not the case in real life with Palestine and Isreal which is where I believe you are misconstruing what I'm trying to say. Palestine didn't do anything to Israel at least not in the same capacity as what Israel has done to them.

Tlou and Palestine/Israeli conflict are different in the sense that there is clear right and wrong, now am I going to sit here and say Palestine is completely 100% innocent no. But in this conflict yes. The people of Palestine shouldn't have to suffer because another nation wants to selfishly take what not there's and kill them to get it.

I am not claiming he hates Palestine but I don't think its fair for him to act like its some their both bad and good on both sides Israelis can walk free in their streets while Palestinians wonder if they will be shot down in there own to "be made an example of". it's not a fair nor accurate representation of the truth.

Not purchasing Tlou 2 shows that using real-world suffering for your profit and gain and not even doing them justice and being fair isn't right nor will be tolerated.

If you truly "want to help" and understand don't argue with me in my asks listing to the dozens of real Palestinians begging you to do what you can and if that means not buying a game then so be it. don't you think they want to be able to sit back and a play game.

I hope this cleared up for you and others why people like me are putting the pressure to not buy and boycott the game.

[punkrockmads]

Why I'm scared of what's to come for TLOU show's season 2:

I've stated a few times that I will not be watching HBO's The Last of Us, and still really have no plans to do so. However, it's hard not to see every major plot point when most of my online stuff is TLOU related (even though I only write for the game). So here's why I do not love the idea of the show including TLOU2.

Tw: mentions of transphobia, misogyny, and sexism, mentions of threats and hate speech

First off, the transphobic, hateful comments. When the second game came out, I saw so many people absolutely hating on Lev. But a lot of the transphobic comments were directed at Abby by sexist, misogynistic people. It was sickening to see people hating on her for her physical appearance and saying there was no possible way Abby could just be an afab woman. And it was incredibly disgusting to see comments about people who said they "liked Lev until they found out he was trans" or they felt like the "transgender theme" was being "forced down their throats". (The last one was actually a comment made by a now ex friend).

Having Abby and Lev in the show is going to bring those comments back to the surface. And it is going to make the internet a NIGHTMARE. And my blog may be safe for my followers who will never see that kind of stuff in my posts, but so many TLOU lovers, including myself, are going to be bombarded with hateful comments bashing on characters who represent normal everyday people who deserve to be represented in the media.

Next is my fear for the actress they will cast to play Abby. Laura Bailey received death threats, hate comments, and even threats directed towards her child all for playing a character that killed another character. I have no doubt that these comments will end up directed towards the actress that plays Abby and that's heartbreaking to know. People simply aren't mature enough to handle this kind of stuff and it's ridiculous.

I'm also slightly worried about how Abby's physical appearance will change. Specifically her muscles. I really really don't want to see them slim her down. To me, she represents something I always wished I could look like. She represents an afab girl who doesn't look like a stereotypical girl made for the male gaze. She's fucking ripped! And I want her to stay ripped! It'd be a slap in the face if they didn't at least try to keep her build!

[foxingpeculiar]

Okay, I finished Disco Elysium. (Spoilers)

Had to sit with it for a while. Wasn’t sure how I felt at first, but now I think I’ve kind of got my head around it, or at least I’m starting to.

So, for the record, Ruby shot herself and the Tribunal did not go well. I didn’t save Elizabeth and Kim got shot (although did not die afaik), which means Cuno tagged along for the island and joined the squad. I’m assuming Kim would’ve done, had he been present.

I had to think about The Deserter for a while. Like who is this guy? What does he represent? But I think I understand. He’s an ideologue who couldn’t move on, who couldn’t let go. He’s stuck on his moment of failure. Which is what Harry isn’t. As much as he fucks up (and it’s a lot), he keeps going. So there’s that.

I also like the idea of it being a kind of random event, like not any of the suspects you’ve been investigating. I think that’s related to the Phasmid. Which, I KNEW IT. I knew that cryptozoology stuff was going to come back, that the game wanted me to keep believing. Like, the mystery’s essentially unsolvable from prior information—you have to follow the path, persevere, believe and you come upon something… weirdly beautiful, if probably not what you expected.

The ontological mystery never got solved, exactly. Like, it’s obviously working on a metaphorical level. And it’s alluding to more—all the stuff about power and gaming, the symbolism of Anodic Dance Music and such, I dunno, the fantasy around the edges. Maybe in a second playthrough, I can figure out more.

Cos I know there’s stuff I didn’t see. Whose bedroom was that that I broke into in the apartments? What’s up with the old lady hiding in the lorries who wouldn’t talk to me? What, exactly, is behind the secret doors in the Whirling? Why did Ruby think I worked for LMP? The fuck is with Cindy and Cunoesse? Etc.

(I did finally get in the cargo container, though, and… whoo, that guy. But also there’s the whole “this reality is subjective on a very literal level” thing that’s happening there. There’s so much weirdly interesting shit in here—it’s like batshit absurd but also very well thought-out. That seems to be the crux of the appeal.)

I dunno. I need to chew on this one for a while. It’s a game I look forward to revisiting in like, a year or two, when I’ve forgotten just enough of it to make it spicy. But yeah, it’s doing something big. Like there’s SO much going on, on both a literal plot and metaphorical level… I see why it has the reputation it does.

For now, I’m deciding what to play next. I have about a month until FF16–I’m thinking maybe TLOU2?

[enneamage]

I'm an ex-mcyt anon (Clean a year :D) who occaisionally stalks in here and checks out the new posts and. The latest Ranboo issue... (The TLOU2 one) is. Holy shit. I read the original apology post and then went into the notes. And its insane?? Like beyond insane??? There like a Bunch of people being Normal (my measure of normal), and then theres people who're just so, so far from reality im actually flabbergasted?!? Like. I know it was bad. It was bad a year ago. But it's gotten exponentially worse since last time I checked. There was someone in there shitting on them for playing in mcc because it synchs up with important holidays??? like what?????

Little concerned for Ranboo now. Me and a friend have this theory that streaming on a scale that big makes people take one of two paths: extreme mentall illness (death :/) or, y'know, criminal behaviour. And I now know for a fact which one Ranboo's hurdling into...

I feel like dooming takes a certain knowledge of the CC that I don't have when it comes to Ranboo (long streamer with short clips, mental health is a factor but I can't spot the finer details) so I can't say if I think they have momentum behind something that extreme. I've heard that they sometimes take breaks from streaming to get their head together, which is often the right move. I absolutely get feeling like streaming/youtube press the juice out of people until something breaks, but on average most people are stumbling along. (Crime is more likely than death, at least.) It's still rough to see this happen, though.

I want Ranboo to be okay. I think it would be great if they got an audience tranfusion with more forgiving people, but I have no clue how that kind of thing happens other than really drastic change, and honestly it looks like they've tried that. This space has a way of eating itself that I expect intuitively, and see all the time, but I don't know if I'll ever fully understand beyond a few theories.

It's hard when spaces focused on 'good and bad' start to self-destruct. I'm seeing a lot of places take frustrations out on the people that would usually listen, ironically giving them a harder time than the pure uncaring assholes. The guilt trip goes towards the person that they know will feel guilt, and that their actions might actually effect. It makes trying to be good into being a target, which burns a lot of people out in the end. I see it pop up a lot when there's unresolvable emotions involved (Covid, Palestine, and on an infinitely pettier scale: inescapable teenage shame) that people want to try and resolve through smaller interventions.

[blazehedgehog]

Did you read GB 'Doc' Burford "review" of TLOU Part 2? Kind of has a harsh take on Naughty Dog and Neil Druckann, what do you think?

Nope! It's very, very, very long. Medium has a read-time estimate thing and it estimates almost 80 minutes. With the way I read things, I can guarantee you it would take me an entire day, if not longer.

It's not that I'm a poor reader. I think I'm probably a good reader. I recall whenever teachers would call upon the class to read aloud, I was almost always one of the best. Even all the way up to Junior High, there were kids aged 16, 17 that had to read very, very slowly, sounding out words. Whenever it was my turn, I was always able to read professionally, without any pauses or breaks in my speech.

My problem is focus. I don't pay attention super well. I've said it before, but I probably have some amount of undiagnosed ADHD and while reading I can feel my brain enter a sort of "autopilot" mode where I'm acknowledging the words with my eyes but my actual inner monologue is somewhere else. Nothing I'm reading sticks to my brain.

So I try to read in shorter bursts, until my capacity for absorption is full and I can feel my mind start to wander as I read.

This is one of the reasons I don't read very many books. I feel like a lot of the text would just slough off, even though I know I "read" it. And Doc's TLOU2 article on medium is definitely a bit like a book.

I'm not saying I'll never read it, because I should at least try*, but I'm also waffling on spoilers because I haven't entirely decided whether or not I actually want to try playing these games for myself some day. And I value "surprise" a great deal -- I still haven't had most of TLOU1 spoiled for me at all (that I'm aware of), and I'd rather keep it that way.

* I am also aware that Medium now has a "listen to this article" feature, which could be useful.

[calamitoustide]

Daily check in!

How are you today gabby?

🪿🪿

Ps: I’ll send the daily check in every day at 7pm British time

hi! i thought i'd wait until later in my day at least to answer this and maybe i'd have something positive to say but i fear i was a bit too optimistic my head hurts im suffering and i didn't write like i said i would all i did was work and it's been cloudy here for like a week straight it's been gloomy and awful but on the bright side or whatever i'm spending the rest of my day watching Jettro Jettro playing tlou2 again... for like the tenth time which is my favorite past time so there you go

how was your day anon <3

[sillyguyhotline]

thinking about how we don’t know ellie until right after she’s experienced what was likely the worst trauma of her life so far. like obviously her life has been anything but easy but the bite and losing riley and having to shoot the person she loved the most must have robbed her of all but her last remnants of childhood. and then her life keeps getting worse and worse from there she loses fucking everyone she’s unable to get the only thing in the world she thinks will bring her closure (not that i think she should have sacrificed herself, but she so solidly believes that her life won’t be worth anything unless she’s able to provide a cure) and then, literally the fucking day that she gets her first good night’s sleep in years, the day she begins to make amends with joel, she loses him . like. sorry to bring tlou2 into this but i do not give a shit about ellie’s story being paralleled with abby’s when ellie had everything taken from her and had to spend at least a year killing for survival before her father figure died whereas abby’s single loss of her father was her entire reason for swearing revenge and the majority of the deaths she caused were ones she did as a soldier and ones she enjoyed doing 😹😹 and then, AFTER achieving her revenge and obtaining what she believes will bring her closure, she’s given the opportunity to heal and then is treated like the more mature one by the narrative whereas ellie is denied closure again and again and again and doesn’t even fucking receive it at the end of the second game!!! i do not enjoy playing a game where a character i’ve watched suffer over and over is made to suffer more and i’m still supposed to condemn her for her actions that only come as a result of her reaching a breaking point after years of hell ! christ almighty. i’m eating rocks

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: Do As You're Told

Okay so I'm not going to attempt to write "real fic" for Joel because I haven't played the game, don't have time to watch playthroughs, and have only seen friends play TLoU2 up until that point. So I don't have Joel figured out BUT!!!!!!!!

I saw this post and my first thought was "Wow, that's just like in TLoU but, you know, nice." And it got me thinking, and so I whipped this up, not a "real fic" but bullet points, because I'm a little wary of Joel.

Nasty Joel/cishet woman reader piv rough hate sex underneath the cut. 18+ only. Hate fuck warnings apply: may not be for everyone. I tried to keep it non-abusive.

Thanks to @floraandfrost for encouraging (more like yelling at) me to post this!

Reader and Joel hate each other for some reason. It doesn't matter why, but they do. Because Jackson is such a small place, and working together is of the essence, they usually just give each other the cold shoulder. If there's a town meeting and one of them has something to say, however, you can be sure that the other is going to sneer disdainfully. If they're both at the Tipsy Bison on a Saturday night, people can be sure there's going to be a yelling contest, and probably fisticuffs. (At least from Reader, I'm not sure Joel would hit a woman, but he would very probably grab hold of her wrists and twist them back to stop her from punching him again.)

And one day, you end up on patrol together. Someone got sick, no one else could cover. With gritted teeth and in hateful silence, you ride out of Jackson with Joel. Destination: a remote station where you have to do check-ups. You get there fine, you do your checks, and then you get run over by Infected. You take a stupid risk, just because you can't allow Joel to be right on the matter ("Why can't you ever do as you're fucking told?!"), and barely escape unharmed (you get some minor injury, a cut on your arm or something). Lucky for you, the Infected focus on your horse for a second. Not staying to watch it get torn apart, you turn around and run. Within moments, Joel has caught up with you, pulling you up onto his horse. Your heart is beating like crazy, your arm is stinging, and you're feeling light-headed. It was so close. You haven't been so close to dying in years.

The wind picks up, and it starts to snow. Before you know it, you're trapped in a blizzard. Instinctively, you huddle up against each other on the horse, despite loathing the touch of the other. "The horse is not gonna make it back tonight carrying both of us," Joel says. "We need to find shelter."

Yes, you need to find shelter indeed, because you need to get off this horse. You need to get away from Joel FUCKING Miller, whose hard dick is pressed up against your buttock. Through layers of jeans, you can feel the hard length, and you're furious with yourself for how turned on it makes you. It's a physical reaction, you understand that: the horse's movements are making your ass rub into Joel's crotch. And you need to stay close, for warmth. The situation is infuriating.

Luckily, there's a safehouse nearby. It's an old ski lodge located high up on a hill, with a view over the valley. It's rarely used in winter because of the panorama windows that leak heat, and will broadcast the presence of light for miles. But it's what you have.

By the time you arrive, you're both furious. You're angry because you're kinda in shock after nearly dying, and survival and Joel's cock pressing into your soft flesh have made you horny. He's angry because despite his strong dislike for you, he didn't much enjoy seeing you almost die, and you got yourself in that situation because you're so goddamn stubborn and wouldn't fucking listen to him, and then you made him hard and it was so fucking humiliating. And it makes him crazy that he can't stop thinking about fucking you.

You gather provisions, raid the firewood stock, find blankets in a cupboard, argue about which room to set up camp in, but you end up in the living-room. It's your idea: you know that you're going to have to share a room, and you want that room to be as big as possible.

When there's a fire going, you finally sit down in front of it, and take your jacket off to have a look at your cut. And somehow, Joel ends up next to you, offering to help. "Fuck you, Miller, I don't need your help!" "You can't bandage that on your own, don't be a stupid bitch!" "Just get out and get bit or freeze to death in a pile of snow, so I don't have to see you again, you asshole!"

You finally accept his help, scowling. And somehow, you end up kissing. It's the near death experience, it's the tension, it's the erection against your ass, it's the frustration. It's Joel's rugged yet handsome face, it's his hands that are surprisingly gentle with your injury, despite having locked your arms on your back, rendering you immobile and helpless against his broad frame.

It's a fight. You roll around on the cold floor, struggling for dominion. He's stronger, but you're slithery, agile, and you have nails and teeth that you are not afraid to use. When you've bitten him one time too many he grabs you by the throat. "You fucking stop that or I'll put you through that fucking window." "You don't have the balls."

He almost does put you through the window, but not by throwing, oh no, he rips the clothes off your body and slams you against the window so that the glass shakes. He rubs himself against your back, pushing your front up against the cold glass, one hand locked behind your back, the other around your throat.

"You gonna take what I give to you?" he growls into your ear. And you're sopping wet, and you hate him so much for make you sopping wet, and it drives you insane that you're so hungry for his cock, the cock that's still in his jeans but once again hard and pressed up against your buttocks. You push back, rub your ass over the bulge, and hiss back: "Old man, do you need a hand crank to get started, or why am I still waiting?"

He splits you open like an axe through a log, grabs you by the hair with one hand, and digs the fingers of the other into the soft flesh at your hip, and just goes to town on you. And it is the most intense experience you've ever had, nothing else can measure up, and it feels so oddly right despite your loathing for him. You want to run your mouth, tell him to fuck you harder, to actually put you through that glass, but his cock has rendered you dumb, and all you can do is moan, and tighten yourself around him, and rub your clit with a shaky hand. When you start to build up, you find your tongue enough to press out: "C'mon, Miller, fuck me like you mean it!"

And he releases your hair and grabs both your hips, and snaps his hips to yours so hard, so fast, snarling "Cum for me, cum for me now!" and you cum in a huge squirt that wets your hand and shaking legs and feet and the glass in the filthiest possible way, and the sound Joel makes is not human.

He fills your slick, pulsating cunt with strong spurts of thick cum, slowing down his thrusts but not coming to a stop until you whine. Your legs don't carry you anymore, so you sink down to the floor, throbbing and aching and absolutely loving it.

You somehow drag yourself to the pile of clothes and blankets in front of the fireplace, and collapse. Joel puts a couple more logs on the fire before laying down.

"Huh," he says. You look at him, frowning. Your attitude towards him is slowly returning. He looks back at you and gives you this shit-eating, absolutely infuriating grin. "Turns out you can do as you're told, after all."

[damn-stark]

WLF Base Dates ~ Abby Anderson imagine

Abby Anderson x Fem!reader

Requested by anon “Hii could i request a fluffy&nsfw fic with Abby from tlou2? Maybe a cute date around the wlf base and Abby preparing a romantic set up in her room for the evening or smth like that!🥺❤️”

A/N- I’m going to write two more requests and then I’ll write the second part for The trouble! Promise!

Warning- FLUFF

———-

“Manny, this patrol was pointless.” You groan, dragging your feet through the busy space of the base you called home.

Manny pats your shoulder and offers you a playful smile, “clearing out infected is not pointless.”

“It is,” you groan again. This time in a more exaggerated manner. “It is after having a early morning shift.”

“You didn’t have to come.”

“Like I had choice,” you scoffed, shooting him a burning glare, “You practically dragged me there.”

Manny remained quiet, that same odd look on his features. One he’s had all day. It was like he was planning something, or hiding something. Something he wouldn’t spill.

As much as you pleaded the man to speak.

“I could’ve slept, or spend time with my girlfriend.” You continued complaining.

“You’re home. Stop complaining.” Manny stopped inches away from the door that led to your intended hallway, a noticeable moment of hesitation before turning on his heels.

“Are you not going in? Or are you dragging me somewhere else?” You quipped.

“I can take your pack.” He quickly added.

“Not it’s fine, I’ve got it.” You dismissed awkwardly, “it’s going to my room.”

Manny scratches the back of his neck before he blocks your path, repeating what he previously said, “I can take your pack, really.”

“Uhh,” You quirk one eyebrow and eye him suspiciously “Is everything okay?”

“Just want to lighten your load.” Manny quickly interjects, a nervous smile on his lips.

“Uhh,” slowly you do as he wants, shrugging off your pack and handing it to him, that finally letting him slide away from the door and letting you finally move forward.

“One more thing.” Manny added, causing you to look over your shoulder to look at him, “good luck.” He shoots you wink and walks off the opposite way.

“Weird.” You breathe, finally and happily opening the hall door. Only coming across a surprising sight, one that left your mouth agape, your eyes wide in amazement. “What the heck?” Your eyes follow the only source of light that came from the path of lights that led to your room. Slowly but surely walking to your door and pushing it open. The amazement not ending in that hall.

In fact the inside of your room was more impressive. It was lit by a string of white lights that hung above your covered window, more soft lighting provided by the candles lit and resting on the elegantly laid out area on the floor. Their was another path that led to the laid out area, this path completely different than the one before, instead of lights, this one was made by rose petals.

Another difference this path had was that Abby was standing in the middle of the given path, a small bouquet of different but beautiful flowers in her hand, a shy but cute smile displayed on her lips.

“Hi.” She greeted quietly.

“Hi.” You smiled, slowly but surely making your way to her. “What is all this for?”

“A date.” She explained, “we haven’t had one in a long time. I wanted to make this one special.”

A warm grin spread on your features, your eyes falling on the flowers as she carefully handed them to you.

“But I’m all sweaty from the patrol.”

Abby shrugged, a smug demeanor replacing her shyness, “It never bothered me.” She then grabbed your hand and pulled you down the small flight of stairs, leading you towards the small kitchen and showing your favorite choice of food.

“This-this is amazing.” You mused, unable to keep your eyes from the display she created, noticing the tv moved by the floor, both her and your favorite movie ready to be played at moments notice.

“Mel helped me.”

“Really? You two friends again?” You ask, turning to face her with an amused reaction.

“Getting there.” Pulling her hand away she moved to serve the food, in a very soft spoken manner instructing you to sit and not help her.

“This is great, baby, really.” You grin, watching as she placed the plate in front of you before putting down her own plate.

“You deserve it.”

“We both do.” You correct her.

Abby hides her blush as best as she can, blinking up to admire the shocked reaction still displayed on your face. “Eat before it gets cold.” She later says.

“Okay, but promise this isn’t poisoned?” You joke.

Abby chuckles, shaking her head before shoving a spoonful of the food. “If it is then we’ll both die.”

“How romantic.”

—

You don’t how, or why but the night and date ended in both you and Abby reading next each other. Your head resting on her shoulder as you read your own choice of book and she read her own.

It was a quiet, simple, yet meaningful moment you two always seemed to share. Instead of movies or playing games the both of you ended up reading—you wouldn’t change it for the world though. It was special. It was your bond.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah.” You mumble, feeling her push her back off the window to stand to her feet.

“Can I ask you something.”

Folding the corner of your page to save it, you set the book down and stand to your given height, smiling as you noticed her nervously fidget with her fingers.

Her lips parted to speak, but it was like whatever she wanted to say couldn’t come out right, so instead she cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m not really good with words, you know that. Especially when it comes to things like this, so to save you from watching me embarrass myself I will just say it the best way I can. And not some speech Nora helped me write.”

“Okay.” You nod, the smile never failing to appear, watching as she shoved one hand in her pocket, keeping it there for a moment too long.

“I love you, and I have for years. Since the day you joined the fireflies.” You swallowed thickly, her eyes darting all over your face nervously, “I was shy to talk to you for a long time until Manny and Owen locked us in a room together as an “accident”, I was angry but grateful. Mostly grateful because it gave me the courage to finally talk to you.” She exhaled slowly, and pulled her hand out, hiding whatever she took out in her fist.

Her words making your eyes water, and your heart to rapidly beat in your chest. Those things just worsening as she continued. “Without that day we wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be here.” She let out another shaky exhale, slowly lowering herself to get on one knee, the tears that pooled your eyes rolling down your cheeks. “I know I once said this was stupid, but if it means that we’ll be together, that we would have at least lived some part of a normal life then I love it.” She paused and opened a small box to reveal a small silver diamond ring, “y/n, will you marry me?”

You gasp, but don’t hesitate to answer, getting to her level to pull her in for a deep passionate kiss, a smile felt from both of you before you pulled away to give the final answer. “Yes.”

[ins0mnia-an0nym0us-au]

alright. since my last TLOU2 post got heated

lemme clear some things up.

i don't think every person who didn't empathize with Abby "has the emotional intelligence of a q-tip" - normally i don't like stroking with a broad brush but after watching many, many, playthroughs of the game and seeing pretty much the same reactions, it's hard not to get a little mad or upset or frustrated when no one pauses the game and just THINKS for a second.

if i saw them think through this shit and still come out the other side still not liking Abby - i think i'd respect that a lot more. but no one sat there and really thought about it - about a few key things (in my opinion).

abby had no idea that ellie didn't know mel was pregnant. WE as the audience are privy to that knowledge and how much it wrecked ellie. but abby comes back to the aquarium and finds mel, her very large belly out and it seems obvious that she was pregnant.

abby didn't even know about the intruders (ellie + the gang) until the very end of day 2 - when she runs into tommy with manny and he gets killed. so she kinda gets bum rushed with all of this at once - all her friends? dead. at least she can probably assume so.

i genuinely think that if all of this happened 3 days earlier before all of the Seraphites stuff. abby would've killed dina. she changed - fundamentally and maybe she would've done it if lev wasn't there but in the end she still changed. because even after she goes through hell and ellie wants to kill her she refuses. it isn't until ellie threatens lev that she agrees. abby was willing to let it go despite having said "don't ever let me see you again"

there's more to unpack. like how The Last of Us: Part III is in planning stages. how i feel like this series is an incomplete story. but for me that's the major thing. if i haven't seen you play the game or seen your judgement on the game - don't assume i mean you.

but so many people just read reviews of the game and dismissed it or played until - you know what happened and dismissed it.

for me. this game is just a stepping stone in storytelling using video games as a medium. it's beautiful and i'm grateful to have been able to play it.

[justauthoring]

No Reason To (44/50)

Prompt: “And I guess… when it comes down to it, I trust you.”

A/N: So, a couple days early! I couldn’t wait until Monday to post this chapter cause i’m so incredibly proud of it and I’m gonna be spending the weekend playing TLOU2, so there won’t be too many requests adn I hope this makes up for it :)

Also, because Tumblr is stupid, I added memories from past chapters as Y/N remembering Stiles in italic, but for so reason on mobile it switches between italics and not. I’ve broken it up though, so hopefully it’s not too confusing!

Nonetheless, I am incredibly proud of this chapter and I really hope you all love it as much as I do!

Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. As usual, I hope you all enjoyed!

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Please don’t plagiarize my work!

Pairing: Stiles x McCall!Reader

Based off of: Teen Wolf 06x09 & 06x10

“So, how cold does this thing get?”

“Cold enough for a Hellhound,” Lydia explains with a puff of air, slightly breathless from both of you running around to make sure everything’s locked and prepped. “It’s not the same as the ice bath you gave Isaac but, it can lower your core temperature past anything a human can survive.”

“So, what does freezing our asses off have to do with our memories?”

“It’ll slow your heart rate,” Lydia explains to Malia with a breath, “and put you in a trance-like state.”

“Like hypnosis,” Scott adds, to which you nod.

“Hypnotic regression,” you agree. Then, slowly, you turn to large machine, swallowing thickly. “If we can figure out how to work it.”

Malia turns, glancing around before something catches her eye. “This says ‘start’,” she calls, pointing at the side of the machine. “So, maybe it not’s that complicated.”

Upon further glance, however, there’s a... lot of dials.

Meeting Scott’s gaze, you sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“So, optimistically,” Malia prefaces, “how much time do you think we need to do this?”

“As much time as Liam and Stilinski can buy us,” Scott answers, nodding at the three of you. Then, he turns, unlocking the latch before pulling open the door. It almost looks like a coffin, in a more technical, supernatural way.

-

Scott elected to go first.

And for that, you’re very thankful.

You blink in surprise as the machine starts to hum, clearly doing... something. It’s definitely on, that you know for a fact. Which means...

“Okay, it’s doing something,” Malia calls, meeting Scott’s gaze. “You ready?”

He meets your eyes briefly, as if for reassurance, which you offer the best you can, before nodding. He grabs hold of the door, stepping forward and into the machine, shutting the door behind him. You’re close behind him, waiting until you’re sure he’s completely in and ready, before locking the latch. He watches you carefully from within the machine as you do, and even though he tries to put on a brave face, you can tell he’s scared.

A little apprehensive, at the very least.

“Remember,” Lydia calls as you continue to lock and prepare a few more things. “This’ll get cold enough to kill you. So, if something feels wrong or like, it’s not working...--”

“It’s going to work,” Scott cuts in gently, voice muffled from behind the door. You frown at him, swallowing thickly.

“I hope you’re not saying that because you think I know what I’m doing,” you call, glancing over at your brother, before turning round to Malia and Lydia. “Or that any of us do.”

“I’m saying that because I know you can figure it out.”

His words are sure and, somehow, there’s no doubt in his gaze as he looks back at you. You only hesitate a moment longer, making sure that he doesn’t change his mind or get freaked out in the last second (which, you wouldn’t blame him for either) before moving to turning all the dials all the way round. There’s three, and you turn them quick before you change your mind yourself.

Almost instantly, Scott reacts.

“Oh, okay,’ he gasps, “all right, yeah, that’s cold. Really cold.”

Your eyes widen as the inside fogs up, blurring your image of Scott.

“So,” Malia speaks up, voice hushed. “What are we supposed to do? Talk to him? Help him remember? Wait till he turns into a werewolf freezy pop?”

Turning to Lydia with wide eyes, you wait for an answer.

“We need to guide him,” Lydia mumbles, nodding over at the both of you. “Keep him focused.”

They both look at you expectantly. And, even though you really have no idea what you’re doing, you step forward without fault. You inhale sharply before speaking, trying to get a good look at your brother. “Scott?” You call gently, but firmly, loud enough for him to hear you. “You have to think about him. Concentrate on Stiles.”

Through the fog, you watch as he nods.

“Try to picture him in your head.” Lydia adds, “think about what he looks like, things he said.”

The machine then hums, whirring.

“I don’t like this,” Malia calls instantly, shaking her head. “Something’s wrong.”

You move forward to stop it, but Lydia catches your arm, halting you. You turn to her in disbelief, but she simply keeps her gaze forward, head-on at Scott. “Wait,” she explains, “give it a few more seconds.”

“Lydia--”

You’re interrupted by a loud thump. Your attention is pulled in front of you at the sight of Scott slamming his hand up against the glass of the door, a gasp of pain, discomfort, something leaving his lips. You waste no time in stepping forward once more, worried and panicked for your brother, your hand reaching for the latch, “i’m getting him out of there,” but Lydia holds tight.

“Wait.”

You glance back at Scott, and you watch as his tense shoulders ease. His hand slowly pulls away from the door, and his face relaxes.

“Scott,” Lydia calls, “can you hear me?”

Slowly, his eyes flicker open and they’re glowing red.

But then his eyes start to weigh and you watch as his head lulls, as if he’s about to fall asleep.

“Scott,” you exclaim, pressing your hand on the door. “You can’t fall asleep. You have to stay awake.”

“I’m trying,” he mumbles, half-coherent.

“Wait,” you call after a moment, mind clicking with realization. “You’re not sleeping. I think you’re losing consciousness. And if you do that, I think we’re gonna lose you.”

“Scott!” Malia orders from next to you, her voice louder then your own. “Stay awake. Scott!”

His eyes flicker, his head rocks, but he doesn’t say anything. You watch with panic, concern, worry and all the above, heart racing, pounding madly against your chest.

But then he snaps awake, suddenly. His body stands straight, and he glances around, as if in search of something.

Someone.

“Scott. Try to find him.”

“Try...” You hesitate, thinking. “Try to find him in your memories.”

His eyes flicker every which way. His head shakes as if his mind runs a million miles per hour. He’s searching. Desperately searching. But Scott hasn’t found Stiles yet.

“Find him in any memory. Good or bad.”

And he starts to look panicked. Worried. Frightened.

“What’s happening to him?” Malia asks, panicked herself.

Lydia shakes her head; “I don’t know.”

“Well, he doesn’t look good,” you explain, “he looks... lost.”

“I think he is,” Lydia exclaims, frustrated. “I think maybe it’s too much information. Like, he’s getting buried under all the memories. Being overloaded by them.”

“So, what do we do to help him?”

-

“Did you hear that?”

You glance back, watching as Malia leaves your side and rushes over to door. She halts by it, hand hovering over the lock, her ear pressed against the door as she listens carefully.

“Thunder?”

Turning back to the both of you, Malia frowns; “maybe.”

Sighing, you turn back to Scott, your frown deepening at the distressed look on his face. He presses the palms of his hands against his ears, as if trying to block the noise from his head. You can’t even begin to imagine the amount of noise, memories more specifically, running through his head rapidly. Can’t even begin to imagine how that must feel.

“This isn’t working.”

“Then,” Malia says without hesitation, making her way back over to you and Lydia. “We have to figure something else out.”

“I know,” Lydia snaps, before easing. “I-I know.”

But Malia doesn’t relent, worried for Scott. “Is he gonna freeze to death in there?”

Frowning, you swallow thickly. “If his memories don’t kill him.”

“There has to be another way to do this,” Malia exclaims bluntly, turning to Lydia specifically. “Isn’t there?”

“I don’t know,” Lydia sighs, “this is my first attempt at trying to open a dimensional rift in space-time. So, i’m kind of fumbling around in the dark, okay?”

“Okay,” you call, trying to ease the tension. “It’s okay. Let’s just... think. We just have to think, okay?” You glance back and forth at the two of them, as if to make sure they’re at least trying to keep calm. It’s a lot harder then it looks. But then, something occurs to you.

Fumbling around in the dark.

That’s it.

“You’re not the only one.”

“What?”

“You’re  not the only one fumbling around in the dark,” you explain, nodding over at Lydia, hoping she’ll understand what you mean..

“What does that mean?” Malia shakes her head at you.

But Lydia turns to you  bright-eyed in understanding. “That’s exactly it, Y/N,” she nods at you.

“What?” Malia calls again, voice firmer in bafflement.

You turn to her with a nod. “I think we have to treat this more like actual hypnosis,” you explain, “they use images to guide you through memories. Like... a stairwell. Each step represents a new year. That’s how they regress you back.”

Malia’s eyes ease in realization. “I get it. So he needs to imagine something.”

“What do we tell him?” Lydia asks.

Pausing, you think for a moment, before stepping forward. “Scott?” You call gently, trying to grab his attention. “Can you hear me? Scott, listen. Imagine this.” You fumble for something. “Imagine you’re in the... high school. Visualize yourself in the high school, in the corridor where all the lockers are. Just try to imagine standing there. That’s where your memories are. They’re all in the lockers. They’re locked away behind each one.

“Every memory of Stiles is in a separate locker. Scott, you’re there. In the high school. You’re standing there now.”

And then, just as you finish speaking, his eyes snap open.

-

“It’s getting too cold.”

Your head snaps to Lydia at her words, before flickering your eyes up to the dial, lips parting.

Turning round to Malia, Lydia calls out; “he’s getting too cold.”

“What if it’s not enough to remember him?” She asks, baffling you at her words. “What if it’s some kind of a connection he’s supposed to make because of a memory?” Malia adds, your face easing with realization and understanding of what she means.

Lydia nods, “like an emotional connection?”

“That could be why it worked for Stilinski, right?”

Glancing back briefly at Scott, you nod; “he wasn’t just remembering something. He was remembering his son.”

Rushing forward, Malia calls out for Scott instantly. “Scott?” She calls gently, “Scott, can you hear me?” He doesn’t reply, but she continues anyway. “Listen, I remembered something. At the start of the year, Stiles said he was looking for a place for you guys to live after graduation.”

At the lack of response from Scott, she turns to the both of you panicked, asking for reassurance. You nod, quickly, eyes soft.

“He said you were getting an apartment together?” She recalls, voice doubtful. “And I remember saying something to Stiles. Something like... it’s not always a good idea to live with your friends. Even your best friend. But Stiles said it wouldn’t matter because you weren’t just friends.

“You guys were more like brothers.”

There’s a pause. Scott’s face eases, and you think it might’ve worked.

But then;

“His heart’s dropping.”

“What?”

“His heart rate is dropping, fast.”

“We have to get him out.”

“Quick, quick!”

“Get him out!”

Your fingers pull hastily at the latch, practically yanking the metal door open and just managing to catch Scott before he falls to the ground. You pull him round, meeting his eyes as he glances up at you in confusion, shaking his head. “What--What happened? Why’d you pull me out?”

“Your heart rate dropped,” you exclaim, shaking your head. “You were gonna die.” 

Leaning forward, Malia nods; “we had to.”

Glancing back at the machine, Scott’s lips part. “But then,” he breathes, breathless. “But then, nothing happened, did it? It didn’t work.”

-

Malia tried. And it nearly worked.

Just... not enough.

You turn off the machine with a frown, turning all the dials back down to zero and locking the latch with a heavy click and a heavy heart. You really thought this would work. You thought Scott would be able to open the rift, and if not him, maybe Malia since Stiles was her anchor. But... it hadn’t. And you were two steps behind again.

“What are you doing?”

Turning to Scott with a frown, you shake your head; “it’s too dangerous,” you say simply. “We’re not going to save anyone by freezing you guys to death.”

“But it was working,” Malia reminds, voice firm, desperate. “Wasn’t it?”

“There was a light and a strange noise,” you explain with a shrug. “No Stiles.”

“But I can remember him now,” Scott argues, stepping towards you, letting his hands fall from Malia. “I can see him in my head.”

“So can I,” Malia nods.

“He’s more real now than he’s ever been.”

Brows furrowing at Scott, your lips part, trying to say something but not sure what.

“If we can bring Stiles back, we can bring everyone back.”

“There’s a huge difference in being a vivid memory and an actual corporeal human being,” Lydia explains for you, standing up beside you, to which you nod.

“I know,” Scott nods at Lydia, before turning to you, eyes never leaving your own. “Which is why I think it should be you.”

“I won’t last two minutes in there,” you say simply, shaking your head. You may be a witch, but you couldn’t heal and withstand the same things Scott and Malia could as werewolves and werecoyotes. That thing would kill you in seconds. It had nearly killed them.

“We’ll think of something else,” Scott says quickly, gesturing to Malia. “Malia’s right.” Then, his voice softens and so does his gaze as he meets your eyes firmly. “It’s all about the connection. When I was remembering him, I was also remembering the two of you together. I don’t think anyone had a connection like you guys.”

Lips parting, your shoulders fall. You’re... not sure what to say.

“I saw it, too,” Malia nods, looking solemn as she nods at you. “You have to try, Y/N.”

“But it nearly killed you two,” you whisper, “and it’ll kill me.”

“Well then,” Lydia speaks up, you turning to her in bafflement as she quirks a brow. “We have to do it the old-fashioned way. We’re going to have to actually hypnotize you.”

-

“My mother had a hypnotist who helped her quite smoking.”

You inhale sharply at Lydia’s story, glancing down at your hands, swallowing thickly.

“She had me see the same on when I was ten,” Lydia adds.

Scott turns to her, baffled. “You had to quit smoking when you were ten?”

“No,” she calls, appalled. “I bit my fingernails. Just find a lighter or a candle, please.”

Just then, Malia turns, a blowtorch in her hands. “Too much--?”

“--Found it!”

You glance over, eyeing the candle in Scott’s hands.

Lydia nods, and the three of them make their way over to you, at the table. Scott sets the candle down in front of you, Malia lighting it instantly, as you eye it nervously. Scott and Malia stay stood in front of you, watching you carefully, but Lydia takes a seat in front of you.

Meeting her eyes, you inhale sharply. “Is it scary?”

She instantly shakes her head, “you’ll be fine.” Then, she smiles softly, nodding. “I promise. Now, just... breathe. Take a deep breath.”

You listen without fault, inhaling deeply and slowly, trying to steal your nerves. Your shoulders fall as you do, and your face relaxes as you focus on calming yourself.

“Look at the candle.” Your eyes lower, falling on the lighted candle, licking your lips as you listen closely to the rest of Lydia’s words. “Feel the muscles in your body begin to relax. Your hands relaxing. Your eyelids relaxing.” At that, your eyelids fall shut, instinctively. Out of your control. Oddly, you don’t feel panicked.

You truly do feel relaxed.

“As you relax, imagine you’re sitting in your room.”

When you open your eyes, you blink at the sight of your bedroom. You’re sat on your bed, on the edge of it.

“In your lap is a photo album.”

Glancing down, you frown at the closed photo album held in your hands.

“Each photo holds a memory of your life. You can choose whatever photo you want to look at it. It gives you total control. All you have to do is turn the pages.”

Inhaling sharply, you slowly turn the page, and almost instantly, voices echo.

-

“Y/N... Are... Are you okay?”

-

And it’s almost like the picture comes alive before you.

-

You step forward, falling into Stiles’s arms. He doesn’t respond right away, almost as if surprised, then, his arms are curling around your waist, pulling you close.

The hug seems to last forever, but it can’t be more than a few seconds, before you’re interrupted by Jackson.

-

Turning the page slowly, you focus on the voices and the memory. Trying to stay calm. At ease.

-

A choked sob leaves your lips as your hands go to cover them. Shaking your head, you cry out; “i’m sorry,” taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-I-”

“Hey,” Stiles calls, keys falling on your counter, rushing over to you. He envelops you in his arms, holding you close as you move your arms around him, clutching onto the back of his sweater. You feel like a fool, acting so weak and letting your emotions get the best of you, but after spending a night in an empty house, without the comfort of your brother and mother and terrified that your father would come waltzing through the front door any second, you can’t help yourself. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whisper, “I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”

Stiles pulls back, grabbing your face by the cheeks and pulling your eyes on his own. He looks just as rough as you, just as fragile, and it’s clear as day he’s putting on a brave face for the sake of you. “We’re gonna get them back, okay?” He whispers, “my father, your mother… it’s gonna be okay.”

“What if it’s not?” You question, shaking your head. “What if this time we fail? I mean, Scott’s with Deucalion. Deucalion…”

“We’re gonna find them,” Stiles says again, and you’re not sure if it’s to reassure you, or himself. Either way, the words to help calm your nerves just a bit.

“Stiles,” you call, “my father…-”

“We’re not worrying about your father right now, okay?” Stiles interrupts, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “I won’t let him near you. Not again.”

-

“Try to find a memory of Stiles.

“A memory where you felt a connection with him.”

-

“I’m sorry,” you say instantly, shaking your head. You force your body to ease, trying to ignore the slightly race in your heart. It hadn’t been Stiles’ fault, you repeat in your mind. He hadn’t had any control of his body and Void had done what he did best, cause chaos. He used your fears and Stiles’ against the both of you. “I’m sorry,” shaking your head, you sigh. “I shouldn’t have, I… I know that it wasn’t…”

“I hurt you.”

Your words halt, lips left parted as your eyes fall on Stiles’ own. He’s not staring at you, instead, staring down at his lap; at his hands.

“I… hurt Scott, I hurt Coach and so many others. But… I hurt you.”

“No,” you argue, shaking your head. “No, it was Void. Void did all of that stuff, not you, Stiles.”

“But it was my body,” he whispers, forcing the words out of his mouth. Slowly, he raises his gaze to meet your own, shaking his head. “It was my hands that stabbed Scott. My hands that set up the trap that hurt Coach and the bomb that blew up the police station. It was my hands that wrapped around your throat.”

It’s obvious Stiles is staring at your neck, tears in his eyes as he shakes his head.

“God, he… after everything with your father and then I–”

Taking Stiles’ hand in your own, you squeeze it tightly, keeping your gaze trained on his. “It wasn’t you.”

-

“It was Void,” you mumble, the words leaving your lips unconsciously. “It... It wasn’t you. Wasn’t... Wasn’t... you--”

“Find another memory,” Lydia cuts in, words echoing. “Keep looking for Stiles. Find another memory”

-

“Don’t ever do that again... I thought... I thought I’d lost you.”

-

You turn the page.

-

“I’m gonna go talk to my dad. I just gotta go talk to my dad.”

-

And another.

-

“I know that, uh, holding your breath could stop a panic attack. When I kissed you... you held your breath...

-

And another.

-

“I’ll always come back. I promise.”

-

And then...

You blink, and you’re in Stiles’ jeep.

-

“Y/N...”

-

“That’s when I remembered...”

Lydia, Malia and Scott blink, hoping flickering in their eyes.

“When... When I realized...”

-

“I’m going to be erased, okay?” You can’t say anything, your head shakes and your lips part, but you’re stunned silent. “Just like Alex. You’re gonna forget me.”

“No,” you cry, the word just spilling from your lips. “No, I… I won’t. I couldn’t forget you, Stiles.”

“Y/N… you will.”

-

“Y/N? What? What did you realize?”

“I tried to convince myself,” you mumble, eyes sliding open, slowly, lips parting. “I tried to pretend that I wasn’t...”

-

And you blink at that, heart breaking at the fact that he’s right.

“Just… try to find some way to remember me, okay?” His hand slips into your own again, threading his fingers through your own, gripping onto you tightly, firmly. “Remember… that it’s always been you… Remember that it’s never been anyone but you, from the first minute I saw you…”

Swallowing thickly, you let the words sink in, never tearing your gaze away from Stiles. These are the words you’ve been wanting to hear for months, wanting to know if you’re feelings for Stiles were one sided. If you were still the one he loved…. and now that you are hearing them, he’s about to be taken away from you.

“Remember that you saved my life.”

Lips parting, you whisper; “you saved me life too…” And then you shake your head, small, stiffly, and you feel your eyes water. “Countless times…”

He’s silent for a moment, gazing back at you, as if taking it all in for the last time. And then,

-

“Wasn’t what, Y/N?”

-

“Just remember… Remember that I never stopped loving you and…” He blinks, eyes never wavering from your own. “I never will.”

-

“Still in love with him.”

-

There’s an echo of silence, and then, he’s being ripped from you.

-

Meeting Scott’s gaze, you swallow thickly; “That I wasn’t still in love with Stiles.”

“Y/N...”

“I was there,” you cry, words choking. “I was there. I was the last person to see him.”

Lydia leans forward; “where? Y/N, where?”

“The Ghost Riders,” you explain with haste, eyes blurring as tears stream down your cheeks. “They... When they took him...”

Remember...

The candle burns out. And it’s silent.

Then, “I never said it back...” Swallowing thickly, you shake your head at Scott, biting your lip. “I never told him that...”

There’s an echo of silence, then, a rumble echoes. It intensifies by the moment, rumbling the entire ground beneath you.

Slowly, you stand up, making your way over to the door. You slowly unlock it, pulling up the latch, and then the door. Your lips part, eyes widening when you notice the bright light.

It’s the rift.

Rushing forward, you slow to a stop and you swear... you swear you see Stiles.

On the other side.

But... But right in front of you.

“Stiles?”

-

That night...

That was the night I realized...

I tried to convince myself, lie to myself...

that I wasn’t in love with you.

But I was.

I am.

I’m in love with you, Stiles.

“I can see you, Stiles! Don’t stop!”

Your hand reaches out before you, your feet inch forwards, because you can see him. See his outline. His figure. And you know it’s Stiles; without a doubt that it is. And he’s so close you can almost touch him, Almost reach out for him.

“Keep going! Stiles, keep going!”

But then, the light fades, and so does Stiles.

Your hand falls back down to your side, and it feels as if your heart is breaking.

“Stiles?”

But there’s no response..

“Y/N...”

You shake your head at your brothers voice, swallowing thickly. “Where is he?” And then you turn, spinning round to face your brother and your friends, nodding quickly and hastily. “It was working,” you explain. But you falter when you see the looks on their faces. “You... You saw him, right?”

With a sympathetic look in her eyes, Malia shuffles forward; “we didn’t see anyone.”

“No,” you argue, biting your lip as you turn back towards the tunnel. “He was here. I know it...”

A hand falls on your arm, and slowly turning your head back, you frown at Lydia through blurred eyes. You swallow thickly, trying to hold back your tears; your desperation whilst she simply just squeezes your arm, trying to offer any comfort she can.

All you can manage is the bleak mumble of; “Stiles was here.”

-

They help guide you back inside the room, making sure to keep a close eye on you.

And while you appreciate the support, you don’t notice it, your mind occupied with other thoughts. You found yourself doubting yourself again, because no one else had seen what you had. Not Malia, not Lydia and not even Scott. You were the only one. And it made you wonder if you were going crazy, if you had just imagined it all because you were so desperate to have Stiles back.

But you know you saw him. You know you did. And you swear you heard his voice, so...

“Liam!”

Spinning round at your brothers voice, your brows furrow at the sight of the younger boy. You would’ve thought he’d be taken. Like everyone else.

“There’s something you need to see.”

“You’re still here...”

“Yeah, but everyone else is gone,” Liam pants, shaking his head. “All of them. They’re all gone. Look, you have to come with me.”

Shaking his head, Scott’s brows furrow in confusion. “What is it?”

“I can’t explain it,” Liam stammers, “I have to show you.”

“Uh, all right,” Scott stammers, turning back to look at the three of you. “You guys stay here. Just in case.”

You just nod, numb. But Malia speaks up; “in case Stiles comes back?” And her words catch you by surprise, glancing over at her before meeting your brothers eyes who nods firmly at you.

“If there’s any hope,” he explains, “you need to keep trying.”

-

Your brows furrow when Malia rushes forward, not even a few minutes after Scott’s left, and opens the door.

Lydia seems just as confused; “what are you doing?”

She turns back to the two of you with a smile. “We’re gonna go find Stiles.”

“Scott told us to stay in case he shows up here.”

“Stiles isn’t coming here,” Malia argues gently. “If he was, he would’ve, and he hasn’t, so he’s not.”

Stepping forward, you bite your lip. “You believe me?”

Never wavering her gaze from your own, Malia quirks a brow in question. “You still think it worked, right?”

You nod without hesitation, “I know I saw him.”

“And I trust you,” Malia encourages, “you’re always right.”

Pursing your lips, you hesitate; “I wouldn’t say always.”

Shaking her head, Lydia steps forward; “but, right now?”

Meeting her eyes, then Malia’s, you nod, slowly. “Right now,” you begin, “I’m not wrong. Stiles is out there, I can feel it.”

“Then,” Malia grins, “what are we doing standing here?”

-

“These look fresh.”

“It’s from Stiles jeep,” Malia explains, “it must’ve just left here.”

Lydia pauses, brows furrowing. “Without his keys?”

You shake your head; “half the time he got it started with a screwdriver, so...”

“Then, he’s here,” Lydia nods, “we have to tell Scott.”

You glance over at Malia, but her gaze is caught on something else. Slowly lowering to help you up to your feet, Malia keeps her gaze ahead, frowning. “We should probably tell Scott about that, too.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, but a simple glance in the direction she’s looking and you understand.

There’s... train tracks in front of the school yard, leading into the school itself. Which just makes absolutely no sense. And definitely doesn’t mean anything good either.

-

Eyeing the many people sat in the library, now apparently a train station, your heart falls with the realization that the Wild Hunt was a lot further into turning Beacon Hills into a Ghost Town then you thought.

“Why is there a train station in the middle of the library?”

Turning to Malia, you sigh; “there’s also a train station in the Wild Hunt.”

“Any chance they’re connected?”

Stepping forward, you shake your head. “I would say high,” you begin, before glancing back at her and Lydia. “Like a hundred percent.”

The two follow after you quickly, though you’re not really sure where you’re headed or what you aim to do. It’s mainly the blind leading the blind.

“If there’s a train station,” Malia continues, “then there’s probably a train.”

Spinning around to the two of them, you meet Lydia with a similar look as her face falls with realization. “And if there’s a train,” she begins, “it’s going to the Wild Hunt.”

Turning around to the crowd of people, you swallow thickly; “they’re all going to be taken.”

“We can’t let them be taken.”

Malia’s face falls with panic and stepping forward, her mind races for a plan. “Um,” she mumbles, before raising her voice so everyone can hear her. “Okay. Listen up, everybody. We’ve all got to get out of here. We gotta go right now.”

Glancing round, no one moves. Or even really acknowledges Malia.

“It’s bad! We have to go!”

Stepping in front of someone, you crouch to meet their eyes; “hello!” She doesn’t move. Like, at all.

“Uh, hello? Sir!” Malia calls to another man, Lydia trying the same thing to another person. No one responds to either of you. At all. “How do we get them to leave if they can’t hear us?”

“Uh...” Lydia mumbles, before something -- or rather someone -- catches her eyes. “Maybe there’s someone who can.”

Following her line of direction, your eyes widen at the sight of Peter.

-

“Peter!”

Pressing a hand against your forehead, you watch Malia uselessly snap her fingers in front of her father’s face. It clearly does nothing. As everything else she’s tried does nothing.

“Malia.”

“What?”

“The only way we were able to break through the Hunt,” Lydia begins to explain, “is with an emotional connection.”

Malia sighs, shoulders falling with defeat. “Dang,” she whispers, “wish I could help.”

Meeting Lydia’s eyes, you sigh, before stepping forward. “Malia,” you call, voice firm, clear on what you mean.

She seems to understand quickly. And instantly, she shakes her head. “I’m not saying it,” she argues, determined. “I’m not saying it.”

“Okay, well,” Lydia shrugs, spinning round to walk the other way. “I guess everyone dies.”

Letting out a growl, Malia halts Lydia.

Turning to the former, you meet her eyes with a reassuring glance. “It’s okay,” you whisper, smiling gently. “You’ve got this.”

She only hesitates a moment longer, inhaling deeply, letting her eyes fall shut as she tries to prepare herself. Then, slowly glancing down at Peter, the word leaves her lips; “dad.” But not at all in the way you or Lydia meant it to. “Dad. Dad.”

“Say it like you mean it.”

Slowly crouching in front of Peter, Malia takes deep breaths. You don’t say anything, giving her the moment she needs to muster the courage to say it. It might just be a short and small word, but you understood probably better then most how hard it is to accept the man that’s supposed to be your father as your actual father. After everything he’s done.

And that’s why you understand how hard it is for Malia.

“Dad.” She whispers, voice soft, desperate. “Please wake up.”

He drops the newspaper, his eyes shifting. They become less distant.

Malia turns to you and Lydia with hope in her eyes, slowly standing up just as Peter does himself. Then, still silence echoes, uncertainty, and then, you watch as the edges of Peter’s lips curve upwards.

-

“Attention, all passengers, the train will be arriving in twelve minutes.”

You watch as all the passengers get up, circling around the four of you. Their feet seem to just lead them, having no real control over their bodies.

“Me?” Peter speaks up, pulling your gaze on him as he gestures to himself in disbelief. “You want me to stop them? You know how many there are?”

“Yeah,” Malia nods, “a lot of them. So get going.” Stepping forward, she grabs his arm, pulling him off his seat on the bench.

“There are hundreds of waiting rooms in this train station,” Peter explains, whilst letting Malia pull him. You and Lydia follow closely behind. “Which apparently now also serves as a high school library. It’s impossible.”

“We can try.”

“Where do you get this implausible optimism?”

“Definitely not from my father.”

Shaking your head, you rush forward, breaking the two apart. “We don’t have time for this,” you remind, grabbing onto Malia’s arm to pull her attention on you. “We need someone to just hear us.”

“I think we already did.”

It takes you a moment to process Peter’s words, and when you do, your eyes widen at the sight of a Ghost Rider right in front of you.

-

“We have to go!”

“But--”

Pulling Malia with you, you meet her eyes with a shake of your head. “I’m sorry about Peter, but we have to go!”

She chances a single glance back at her father, who currently is being held up off his feet by his neck by a Ghost Rider. He nods at her, encouraging her to follow you and Lydia and with that, she finally follows your lead, though reluctant, allowing you to help pull her along before simply just following you.

However, just as you rush out the door, she stops. And you don’t notice til you’re out, and when you turn back, the library isn’t there.

Meeting Lydia’s eyes, she nods at you, with the intent to follow after Malia and find her. But, just as you take a step forward, a feeling courses through you. And it’s a feeling you’ve felt before, many times. It’s Stiles.

It has to be.

“Y/N?”

Turning back to Lydia with a dazed expression, you shake your head. “Find Malia, get somewhere safe.”

She shakes her head, brows furrowing in bafflement. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve got to find Stiles.”

You rush off without another word, ignoring her bleak call for you as you pick up the speed in your step, all but running down the hallway. Your feet keep leading you, the feeling growing stronger and stronger by each step, until you find yourself in front of the girls locker room. Without hesitation, you push the door open, the first thing your eyes fall on is one of the Ghost Riders.

And then, you see Stiles.

Your lips part, and a yell leaves your lips as a burst of power flows through your body. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, unlike anything you’ve ever done before. Your powers feel stronger, unbelievably powerful as you push the Ghost Rider away from Stiles, knocking it back against a set of lockers. The glow of purple surrounds you, surging from your hands, and directed at the Ghost Rider only and completely.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever done before and it’s more control you’ve ever had over your powers.

And, to your surprise and great shock, the Ghost Rider burst into a cloud of green smoke itself. Just like all the innocent civilians it’s taken over the years. You’re not sure how you do it, how you had that much strength and power to destroy a Ghost Rider. But maybe that’s why they’d been afraid of you, like they were Lydia. Only unlike Lydia, or really anyone apparently, you could... destroy them.

Then, you ease, and you feel your legs grow weak beneath you as a result. Your body feels exhausted, your mind as well, and your eyes dull for a moment as you feel yourself falling, but arms catch you before you body thuds against the ground.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?”

You move your hands to hold onto the arms holding you, finding enough strength in your body to finally look up and meet Stiles’ eyes. The eyes of the man you’ve been searching for for the past few months.

“Stiles,” you breathe, hands falling to his cheeks. “Stiles, you’re here. I... I found you.”

His lips curve upwards gently, eyes never leaving your own as he nods.

“I love you,” you whisper, that being the first thought to leave your mind. You needed to tell him. You just had to. “And I never stopped.”

And, Stiles shifts, holding you closer up against himself as he lets out a gentle laugh. “I know.” He uses his right hand to brush back strands of hair that had fallen into your eyes, gently tucking them behind your ear with a soft and adoring looking in his eyes. “I love you too.” Then, he’s leaning forward, pressing his lips against your own. Something you’ve been craving this entire time, his touch. And he’s here, holding you, kissing you...

You instantly return the kiss, without hesitation, your back curving into him as you pour every bit of feeling you’ve felt for him since he disappeared.

Since you broke up.

His hands run through your hair and you hold tight to him, afraid that’ll he’ll disappear from your fingers once again.

But, he never does.

He’s here. He really is.

“How sweet.”

You pull back in surprise at the voice, eyes blinking over only to find Isaac. Or rather, the phantom Isaac that the Ghost Riders had created. That you knew now. Alarmed, Stiles helps you up to your feet, the both of you shuffling back in response as Isaac approaches, his eyes clearly set on you.

And only you.

“Is that Isaac?”

“I sort of brought him back...” You glance back at him, wincing lightly, “it’s a long story.”

“I hate to ruin the moment,” Isaac continues, his voice contorting, turning darker and muffled. You blink and suddenly, his face isn’t his own, messed up, and it’s then your thoughts and fears of the past couple months are confirmed. That wasn’t Isaac.

And you didn’t love what every he it was.

“But I thought you loved me.”

“Stay back,” you whisper to Stiles, pushing him back behind you. 

Stiles glances down at you in concern, shaking his head. “Y/N, your powers--”

“I know,” you nod, continuing to shuffle back. “But I have to try.” Then, meeting his eyes steadily, you nod. “Be ready to run.”

He takes a moment, hesitating, before slowly nodding, stepping back to give you the room you need. However, he doesn’t run off yet, he sticks close, obviously worried for you as you slowly raise your hands up before yourself, inhaling sharply and deeply in preparation.

Isaac steps forward, a twisted smile on his lips; “don’t you love me?”

Letting your eyes fall shut, you harden your eyes, shaking your head. “I love the real Isaac,” you mumble, “but not whoever you are.”

And then your lips part and your hands jut out before you as a glow of purple surrounds you. Another cry of pain and exhaustion leaves your lips, forcing out everything you have within you. Everything you have left. Your muscles strain and contort painfully, and you feel your legs start to give out beneath you, but what keeps you going is the fact that it’s working.

If the panicked look on the phantom Isaac’s face is anything to go by.

With one last push, using all that you have left, you knock the phantom back. It slams against a set of lockers, and with just one final push from you, it burst into a cloud of green smoke.

Instantly, you’re falling once more. And like before, Stiles catches you, keeping you steady.

Your head lulls and your body is screaming at you in exhaustion. But you don’t much care now because you’re back in Stiles’ arms.

“How in the world did you do that?” Stiles breathes, glancing in the direction Isaac had all but disappeared. “And what the hell even was that?”

“It’s a long story,” you whisper, repeating your words from earlier, voice tired as you lean on Stiles, letting him guide you back up to your feet. “But, at least I know why the Ghost Riders are afraid of me.”

Staring back at you, astonished, Stiles blinks. “Afraid of you?” Then, a small smile curls onto his lips, and he almost looks proud. No, he definitely looks proud. “I love you.”

Laughing, you nod; “I love you too.”

He glances in the direction of the exit, wrapping his arm around your waist. “We should go,” he suggests gently to which you nod, trying your best to not let all of your weight fall on him. He helps guide you out of the locker room and down the hallway, however, you don’t make it far. Because just as you both reach the doors and Stiles moves to open them, a voice echoes.

“Stiles?”

Turning in the direction of the voice, you stare at the empty hallway.

“Stiles, is that you?”

“Mom?”

You shake your head when Stiles takes a step forward, gently pulling you with him.

“Stiles,” you call, voice weak. “That’s not your mom. Just like that wasn’t Isaac.”

“I know who it is,” Stiles mumbles, “I know her voice.”

“No,” you argue, desperate for him to understand. “That’s the Wild Hunt. They’re tricking you.” He only continues to walk forward, towards where the voice had originated, looking both astonished and lost at the same time. “The Wild Hunt brought her back, but she’s not real.”

He turns to you, confused; “what do you mean, ‘brought her back’?”

Before you can speak, Claudia’s voice echoes once more; “Stiles.”

And turning, you frown when she steps through the doors.

“I know what you’ve been through.”

Your grip tightens on Stiles, trying to pull him back. But he holds fast, relenting you.

“I know how much you love your father.” Claudia continues and then, like Isaac, there’s a shift and her face becomes contorted. Darkened. Not her own. And her voice does the same. “But I love him more.”

Swallowing thickly, you let out a shaky breath.

You don’t have the strength to fight her off. Not for the third time. And if you tried, you’re sure it could kill you.

“Even through the hunt,” she continues, voice distorted and echoed, “you somehow worked your way back into his memory.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nods, trying to stay strong. “Worming is one of my skills.”

Standing up a bit straighter, you pull Stiles’ gaze on your own. “That thing,” and you spit the word venomously, “is conjured from your dad’s pain. If he remembers you, he can’t believe in her.”

“That’s why you have to go.”

It happens in a second. Claudia steps forward and you move to stop her, even if you know you can’t, but her hand wraps around your throat, squeezing painfully. It blocks all air and you scramble, scratching at her hand but she’s too strong for your weakened state. And then Stiles steps forward, quick to help you, trying to pull her hands away from you.

“You shouldn’t treat your mother that way.”

You slump against the ground, a groan of pain leaving your lips in response. However, your focus soon turns on Stiles as it’s now his neck being squeezed by the phantom.

“You’re not my mother,” he whispers, voice straining.

She steps forward, quick, slamming him up against a wall. You try to climb up to your feet, hating how weakened you were by your own powers and desperate to try and help Stiles. But you can’t move fast enough. You entire body screamed at you in pain, your head banging in agony, your throat screaming out in discomfort.

“He believes in me. Dreams. So hard to kill.”

But then a figure steps past you, and your eyes widen in hope in realization of who.

“But not impossible.” 

Stilinski attempts to shoot Claudia, but regrettably, it does nothing to her.

“Noah,” she calls, shaking her head. “Your bullets can’t hurt me.”

Finding your strength, you force yourself up. You ignore your own pain and suffering for the sake of Stiles, and the fact that you refuse to lose him again. Not again. You won’t let it happen.

Falling next to Stilinski, you swallow thickly, “fire again.”

He listens without fault, and with the help of his bullet, you push your hands forward, forcing your powers to surge towards her and guiding the bullet there as well. The bullet hits her, right in the chest, and like Isaac, she disappears in a cloud of green smoke, letting go of Stiles.

You slump forward, trying to keep yourself upright. The ground begins to rumble beneath you and you nearly fall, but Stilinski wraps an arm around you to keep you upright, helping steady you.

You glance around as everything continues to rumble, shaking violently, trying to find the source.

-

“Looking for this?”

Stiles jumps, surprised by your voice as he spins round fast to face you. You bite your lip to fight your smile at his reaction, pressing a hand against your lips to muffle your giggle. “Sorry,” you mumble at his half-hearted glare he attempts to send your way. “Your dad let me in.”

Setting down the book in his hands back on his dresser, Stiles turns to you completely, hand set against his chest. “You could’ve at least knocked.”

You only shake your head, electing not to say anything as you walk into Stiles’ room. You cross the distance between the two of you, slowing to a stop in front of the boy with a soft smile, before leaning down to gently grab his hand. You pull it up, turning it so his palm is pointed towards the ceiling, before slowly lowering the necklace his father had found for you into his hand.

Stiles glances down at the necklace, his eyes widening when he realizes just what necklace it is. “What...”

“Your father found it when you were...” You trail off, a light frown curling onto your lips at the memory of it all. “Well, you know. And he said you left it for me.”

Swallowing thickly, Stiles eyes the lily necklace in his palm for a moment before glancing up to meet your eyes. His gaze is soft as he glances up at you, reflective as well. There’s seems to be hundred of thoughts running through his mind as he stares back at you, emotions that you seem to understand well enough but can’t exactly place. 

While things were better, much, much better... You and Stiles haven’t really discussed any of it. Any of it being what had happened before he’d disappeared. There seemed to be this wall that existed between the two of you, this wall that stopped you from talking about it; about the break up, about the secrecy and the lying... But you didn’t want to go on never talking about it. You didn’t want it to be a forbidden thing in your relationship.

If the two of you were going to do this, you had to be better about being honest.

About it all.

“Stiles--”

“Y/N--”

Letting out a laugh, you shake your head. “You go first.”

Stiles hesitates for a moment and he even looks a little shy as his lips part to speak, but he stammers for the right words. You let him take his time, listening carefully as he swallows thickly, mustering up the courage. “I was going to give this necklace to you at graduation,” he explains, “it was going to be my way of apologizing to you for how I treated you. About the way I treated you about Donovan and the Dread Doctors and Theo...”

You frown at the mention of his name.

But Stiles is quick to pull your gaze back on his own, hand falling under your chin and gently pulling it up. “I wasn’t there for you when you needed me and for that, i’m sorry. I should’ve told you, but I felt like I couldn’t tell anyone. I couldn’t even tell my own dad... And I didn’t stop to think that you were going through things of your own...” His hand moves, cupping your cheeks as his thumb softly brushes away the lone tear that had manage to fall past your defenses. “You deserved better then that. Better then me.”

You adamantly shake your head, without hesitation, taking his hands in your own firmly. “I don’t want anyone else but you, Stiles.”

His lips part, and he hesitates, then; “even after everything?”

“Our life is crazy, Stiles. Our lives have been crazy since Scott got bit... And yeah, we’re graduating, and I don’t know what the future holds.” You lean into his touch, your hand falling over his own with a soft smile. “But the one thing I do know is that you’re what got me through it all. And I don’t ever want to not have you by my side again.”

An echo of silence passes, and then, you lean forward, letting your forehead fall on Stiles’ own.

“You’re it for me, Stiles,” you whisper, “you’re all I want.”

Placing his hands on your waist, Stiles tugs you closer. “Good,” he mumbles, “cause you’re all I want too.”

You pull back with a smile, a bright one. There’s this race of happiness flooding through you that you haven’t felt for months. To have Stiles so close again, without all that tension that had once existed between you... it felt like a dream come true.

“Here.”

You blink at Stiles’ words, before understanding his meaning. Pulling back from his touch, you turn, pulling your hair out of his way as he slips the necklace around your neck before locking the clasp for you. Once it’s on properly, you turn to him with a bright smile, letting out a soft laugh as you eye the pendant. “I love it.”

“And,” Stiles begins, pulling you close. “I love you.”

-

“Hey.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

Smiling softly at the sound of Isaac’s voice, you glance down at your lap, biting your lip.

“How are you, Isaac?”

“I’m good,” he responds back cheerfully. “Things are really good.”

“Yeah?” You question softly in response, “i’m glad.”

There’s a pause, then, “how are you, Y/N?”

“I’m good,” you whisper. “I am. I promise.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you nod, even though you know he can’t see it. “I just really wanted to hear your voice.”

His actual voice.

“You sure everything’s okay?” Isaac hesitates, seeming unsure. “You seem off.”

“I’m good, i’m good,” you laugh lightly. “I promise. I’m just tired. Today was the last day of school and I still have no idea what I want to do for college.”

“You don’t?”

Shrugging, you fiddle with the sleeve of your shirt. “No, but i’ll figure it out.” Then, you brighten up. “What about you? You should be done school in France as well, right? What are your big plans?”

Isaac lets out a soft laugh. “I don’t have too many big plans.”

“No?”

“Well, actually... I sort of... maybe met this girl...”

“You met a girl?” You exclaim, excited. “Who? Who is it?”

“Slow down, Y/N/N,” Isaac chuckles, and you can imagine him rolling his eyes at you. “It’s just some girl from school. But I've taken her on a few dates and things are looking good... Really good.”

“Oh, that’s amazing, Isaac. I’m so happy for you.”

“Yeah, well...” Then he pauses, “what about you? Did Stiles realize the big mistake he made?”

Rolling your eyes, you glance back at the past out image of Stiles next to you, curled up in his blankets. “You could say that,” you snort, “we’re better.”

“You guys together, then?”

Smiling down at Stiles, you nod. “Yeah,” you whisper, “we are.”

-

Part 45?

Tag List: @potterheadbbc - @sunsetblake - @mythicalamphitrite - @loverofwaytoomanythings618 - @minuteandahalf - @mnk - @gazebros - @colie87 - @quilliamfears - @quellum - @pessimisticbullshit - @kaylinfayezink - @maiabiovillage - @tr1chst3r - @arkcangel - @quirkytwinkles - @thegirlwhoimagined - @noones-girl1980 - @illumminated - @fairchild345 - @all-will-be-well-love - @animemes-trash - @starryrevelations - @literallyhelpme - @theskytraveler - @jinandtion1c - @ilovemymoose - @bibliophilesquared - @stilessarcasmqueen - @mersuperwholocked-lowlife - @newtsshelbys - @wyattgoleft - @pancakefancake - @saturno-in-the-night - @pizzamelon7384 - @riskregretting - @mdgrdians - @ravenclawnerdfromnarnia - @franchisefan14 - @lovingpeterparker - @audreysduvxl - @kararanae23 - @alioop3818 - @a-gir1-has-n0-name - @andyl394 - @sclestial - @jayymocha - @2ptonpt - @itsfangirlmendes- @deafeningmusicdetective - @alex–awesome–22 - @nicholerodz  - @kellbell44- @serrahruby - @agentmarvel13 - @egg-in-a-spork - @nickigv - @vxidnik - @marvelousgab - @emmaleighrose- @danielag1969 - @digicharr - @shantayok - @cherry3bombshell - @thatprofessionalfangirl - @itsjaynebird - @grippleback-galaxy - @dafukbish - @randomfanfictiontime - @unicorn-sparkles123 - @sammyrenae68 - @myfanficlibrarium - @liveforthenight130318- @booknymph02 - @smileyouresopretty - @fionnthebandersnacc- @voidsarahh - @kal-pal - @darlingimmafangirl - @burningmusicmarchi - @celacaveremo - @maolhy71706 - @supernatural-kinda-girl - @wherever-life-takes-us - @natalien-92 - @letmebeyoursforever - @lonelyforeverlina - @parkerschurros - @seninjakitey - @runway-to-my-aid - @weirdowithnobeardo - @missleahlin - @your-typical-giggle - @wandascarlett - @multifandxm353 - @moonliightbabes - @lemontenciulek - @smokingperfume - @where-art-thau-romeo - @1teen1dream - @standing-onthe-edge - @moresimsforme - @used-avocado - @hotel-colson - @lovingchildperson​ - @10minutesofscreentime

[writer-jamie]

Whiskey and Hidden Feelings - Joel Miller x Reader (Part 2)

Summary: Whiskey and hidden feelings don’t mix well. Joel was about to learn that the hard way.

Warnings: Spoilers from tlou2, mentions of sex.

Tag List: @peakymarvels @miss-goldenweek @samdrakeftw @fangirl-inthe-us @apocalypsekid @imahardcase

A/N: I’ve decided to make this a series, i’m not sure how long it’s going to go on but it’s going to be at least 3 chapters! I will write some smut in this series but i need a reason for y’all to come back right 🤔 I hope you enjoyed! I will be including more of Y/N’s backstory in chapter 3 and there will be more conflict and shit to come! See you soon!

Masterlist!

You had taken Joel up on that drink, and multiple after that. Ellie would sit at the bar and watch your little ‘dates’ as she liked to call them and would insit you tell her everything after them. She stopped walking you home when Joel started doing so. Dina told her to stop cockblocking you so she did. Dina is..is a special one. One drink led to another and you two were always leaving the bar pretty drunk but you didn’t mind, it was just the way you two worked. 

Joel would meet you outside work and walk you home, after all it wasn’t like he had anything else to do. If you were in the normal world, he would be the type of guy to meet you after work for coffee and a cake. He was fucking perfect.

The best part was Ellie. She enjoyed your company anyway but with you being with Joel, she had more of an excuse to hang out with you. She spent most her nights sleeping over at your house and basically lived with you. But she would always complain when you and Joel were all lovey dovey. But what hurt Ellie the most was that you and Joel weren’t being exclusive. You would sleep with Steve most nights, mainly for some comfort during the nights and because Joel, even when you invited him inside, would leave with a kiss. You thought he just didn’t want to have sex, but Ellie knew it was because he didn’t want to scare you off. Every time Steve would show up at your house, she would tell him to fuck off and leave you alone but nothing ever worked, and you were still sleeping with the man. Nothing ever worked.

—————

You crossed your legs and sat on your bed and ran your fingers along your arms. You touched the rough skin around the litter of scars from years on the run. You leaned over and grabbed your water, taking a sip before watching Ellie walk up the stairs. “Hola Señorita!” You smiled and grabbed the hot drink from her. “Can i see your tattoo again?” She crossed her legs and joined you on the bed. “Why? Needing inspiration?” You joked. She nodded and you looked at her seriously. “Hey not until you are eighteen. I don’t need Joel turning around and blaming me for your tattoo ‘inspiration’.” You laughed and moved your arm, allowing the girl to see it. It was a flower and a bird crossed together. She loved it. “What does it stand for? Like why did you get it?” She asked, moving back to get comfortable. “It was my dad’s favourite bird and flower. He was a gardener before this shit.” You explained.

“How old are you?” Ellie mumbled and looked down at the floor. “Well that’s rude. You shouldn’t ask a woman her age, Els.” You giggled before sipping on your drink. “I’m twenty seven.” You raised your eyebrows at the girl. Ellie snorted on the drink and laughed loudly. “My birthday is in October. I turned seven just before all this shit happened. I'm not looking forward to thirty. God I'll be so olddd.” You groaned and dramatically leaned backwards, putting your arms on your stomach. “Thirty isn’t old. Try being Joel. He’s like seventy!” Ellie laughed and laid down next to you, resting her cup on her stomach. “He’s not that old.” You poked her side and looked up at the ceiling. 

“You’re only saying that because you fancy him.” Ellie turned to face you with a shit eating smile on her face. “I fancy his cute butt.” You laughed and looked at the girl. Her face turned from a smile to a grossed out expression as she realised you were serious about it. “You two are so fucking gross.” She turned onto her stomach and grabbed her notebook from her backpack. The girl scribbled in her book and looked at you before sketching you surrounded by flowers. The same flowers as your tattoo.

The room fell silent and the soft sound of the wind outside hit the small house. The whistling of the wind was a sound that often helped you sleep on restless nights. You looked around at the empty walls of your house. You had nothing to decorate with so why bother? Anyway, who knows you might need to pack up and leave suddenly. At least that's what you have been telling yourself for the past eleven years. You wanted to feel secure and you finally felt safe at Jackson. Well as safe as you can feel. The safest you‘ve felt since your dad died.

“Are your parents still alive?” Ellie asked after a minute of silence. You sighed loudly and looked at Ellie. “No my dad died a few years ago and I never knew my mother.” You moved positions and sat up again, stretching your legs out. “How? Didn’t your dad tell you about her?” You shook your head and reached underneath your bed, finding your box of things. You grabbed the box and put it on your lap before rummaging through, looking for the photo album. “Ah ha!” You shouted when you found it. “This...” You opened the book on a picture of you and a middle aged man. “Is my dad. My rock.” You showed Ellie. The girl took the photo album into her hands and tilted her head, looking intently at the photo. “My mom was an egg donor. I never met her. I was made in a test-tube and put into my surrogate, my dad’s best friend, Susan.” Ellie looked at you with utter confusion, like everything you were saying was from some alternate reality. 

“My dad was gay. He liked men and because men can’t have babies alone, he and his partner at the time decided to get a surrogate to be able to have me. It was expensive as hell but my dad he..all he wanted was a child of his own. Thats why I look so much like him, because he is my biological dad. My mom is just a number on a board, I’ve never met her and couldn’t care to. After all, Susan carried me for nine months, not her.” She turned the page and saw a picture of your dad with a heavily pregnant lady. “Susan?” She asked you. You nodded before turning the page, showing her a photo of your dad holding you when you were newborn. “My dad named me after his favourite member of the band at the gay club he used to visit. My dad used to live the life.”

“On Outbreak Day, I was at the beach with my dad and one of his partners. As the Runners crowded the beach, I watched Paul get his throat ripped out. My dad rushed us out of there and back to his car as fast as possible. I was seven at the time.” You played with the skin around your nail. “But you’ve probably seen worst things, right Els?” You asked rhetorically and put your hand on her shoulder with a caring smile. “Anyway! Back to the happy memories.” You smiled and turned the page. 

—————

The warm lights of the bar hit your face as you opened the heavy door. You looked around and saw the usual patrons of the bar as well as people preparing for the night. You wandered over to the bar and decided to actually look at the photos on the wall. You were on about three of them. One of them was a photograph of you and Ellie months ago when you had a girls night. Another was of you, Steve, Dalia and Roger, all dancing during the ‘adults only’ event. That’s was when you and Steve were going steady. And by going steady you meant sleeping together every night to make someone else jealous. For you it was Joel, for him it was Kira. The last photo was of you, Maria, Tommy and Joel. You smiled and watched as Frank turned on the bar lights, beginning his long night. “Hey Frank.” You smiled.

You pulled down the skirt on your dress as you sat down on a bar stool, running a hand through your hair and fixing your jacket on your shoulders. You hummed and looked at the clock behind the bar and saw the time. He was late. You ordered your usual whiskey and sat waiting for Joel. You watched as all the couples came into the bar. It was very typical for a Friday night. All the couples who had kids would come in on a Friday because some people volunteered for a kids club and would look after the kids all night to allow the parents some peace. The older kids would just stay home and sneak out, including Ellie.

You saw Tommy and Maria walk past with a smile on their face as they said hello to the patrons of the bar. Tommy put a hand on your shoulder as he walked past, giving you some comfort. You looked at the door and watched as Joel walked in, greeted by Tommy who gave him a pat on the shoulder before the older man looked around for you. Once he spotted you, he walked up behind you and put his hands on your shoulders, placing a quick kiss on cheek. “Sorry i’m late. Ellie needed something.” 

“I though Joel Miller was never late?” You laughed and turned to face him, putting your hands on his chest. He was breathing hard. He must have ran here. He took your drink from behind you and drank it in one gulp, looking down at you innocently. “I’ll get you another.” Joel took your hands in his and stood you up, looking at you outfit. “Woah.” He smiled and you blushed, pushing him away gently before kissing his neck. “Let’s find a booth.” You told him before walking away, leaving him behind watching you.

After many more whiskeys and vodkas, you and Joel were getting more handsy and more tipsey. You were basically sat on his lap at this point, playing with his hair on the nape of his neck and leaning into his shoulders, getting as close as you could. You wanted him to make the first move. To kiss you first. Tell him he liked you first. But Joel is as stubborn as a mule so he would never admit anything first, or take initiative. So when a romantic song game on, you grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him up and to the floor. “Don’t go shy on me now Miller.” You mumbled and looked around, seeing how everyone was staring at him. After all, nobody had ever seen him on the floor before.

“You don't have to go now honey. Call and tell 'em you won't be in today. Baby there ain't nothin' at the office. So important it can't wait.”

You moved forward against Joel, wrapping your hands around his neck. The music slowed down as all the couples made their way to the floor. “Y’know you are reaaaal pretty up close.” You mumbled into Joel’s ear as he put his arms around your waist. “Y’know you are drunk?” He smirked at you as you swayed to the music. “You are a good detective, Texas.” You mumbled. Joel looked at you with wide eyes. “You good?” You asked, leaning your head against his chest. “Sorry. Someone i used to know called me that.” You took a deep breath. “Tess. Tommy told me about her.”

“I'm thankful for the weekend. But two days in heaven just ain't gonna do. This is gonna take forever darlin'. Girl I just got started lovin' you.”

Joel nodded and held your hands close to his chest, rocking you two back and forth. “You are a good dancer, Joel. Why did you hold that back from me for months?” You smiled and closed your eyes, enjoying the quietness of the situation, although it’s pretty loud in the bar tonight. Joel looked down at you and smiled, pressing his warm cheek against your forehead.

“What's the point in fightin' what we're feelin'. We both know we'll never win. Ain't this what we're missin'. Let's just stop all this resistin' and give in.”

You pulled away and put your hand back around his neck, playing with the long pieces of hair. You adored his hair. “Hey cowboy..” You mumbled as your eyes adjusted to the warm light. “Hey.” You looked around to see all the other couples sharing a kiss. “You wanna..put those lips somewhere? Or are you just going to continue talking trash?” You pressed one of your finger to his lips. Joel clicked his tongue and looked into your eyes. “Depends. You gonna stop sleeping with Steve?” You frowned and looked at him. “Depends. You going to give me a reason to stop?”

“Let me wrap my arms around you. You know you don't want to leave this room. Come back and let me hold you darlin'. Girl I just got started lovin' you.”

Joel leaned forward and pressed his warm lips to yours. It wasn’t your first kiss with the man and you prayed it wouldn’t be your last. He was soft and gentle when he needed to be and rough and dominant when he needed. You pulled away once, but you immediately went back for more and the again. You tried to make sure you weren’t making out too much in the middle of the bar but with Joel, control wasn’t a thing. You smiled against his lips when his prickly beard tickled your face and neck as he kissed you gently. Then you said the one thing he had been waiting for since the day he laid eyes on you.

“Take. Me. Home.”

You breathed heavily when he pulled away. Joel didn’t need to be told twice. The two of you stumbled away from the floor and grabbed your coats before sneaking out the back door like a couple of teenagers. The walk back to your house was a short one, and one which you two walked many times. But this time, it was a walk back with a purpose. You stumbled to open the door as Joel pressed small and needy kisses to your exposed neck. You were giggling and smiling as you finally opened the door and rushed upstairs. Joel laid you down on the bed and showered you with kisses, running his hands up your thigh and into your dress.

“Slow down Cowboy, we got all night.” You moaned and kissed him deeply.

—————

The sun shone down on the small lake. You hopped off your horse and grabbed her reins before walking up to Ellie. “So you can swim now right?” You asked, putting your bag down next to your horse, Reign. You watched as Ellie took her shoes and jumper off and nodded. “Yeah! Me and Joel have been practising more. But I'm glad you are going to help me!” Ellie smiled as she jumped into the lake. “HOLY FUCK IT’S FREEZING!” She yelled as she popped out of the water, making you laugh loudly. You quickly changed out of your top into your vest before jumping into the water after her. You popped out of the water and brushed your hair out of your face. “Ellie! It’s so fucking cold!” You yelled and grabbed her shoulders. You kicked your feet around underneath the water, trying to warm up and stay afloat. 

“Ok! Ok!” You took a deep breath. “Let’s work on diving and keeping those peepers open!” You smiled and dove underneath the water, grabbing Ellie’s feet. The girl laughed and held her breath as she went underneath and stood next to you.  

“Ellie? Y/N?” Joel yelled as he walked around the corner, seeing the two horses tied up nearby. “Joel! We are in here!” Ellie yelled out and splashed in the water, ensuring Joel knows where they are. He turned the corner and saw the two girls in the lake, with soaking wet hair. “What are you two doin’?” He asked.

“Swimming!” Ellie laughed loudly and swam to the edge of the lake where you were sat, your legs dangling in the cool water. You were drying off for the ride back but ensuring you kept an eye on the girl. After all, you were the adult in this situation. Joel walked up behind you and kneeled down, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. Ellie groaned and covered her eyes. “Gross.” She swam in a circle. “Hi.” He smiled and put his hands on your shoulders. Before you could say anything, Joel had pushed you into the water. You popped up and looked at him. “Hey Asshole!” You swore and flipped him the bird. “I’m sorry. I had to.” You shook your head and grabbed Ellie’s hands, swimming around with her.

“Joel! Get in. The water isn’t freezing at all.” Ellie laughed before splashing near the man. “No way kiddo. I’ll put my feet in but that’s it. We can have a lesson next week.” Joel stuck to his promise and took off his shoes and socks, rolling up his jeans before he sat down, putting his feet in the water. You watched as he splashed Ellie from the sidelines, like a dad watching his kid play football. A smile spread on your lips as you swam over to him, sliding between his legs and putting his hands around your back. You pulled him down into a kiss and with one big pull, Joel was in the water with you. He popped up to the surface and stared at you. “Oh yeah you are so dead!” He yelled, swimming after you and Ellie, involving her in the conflict.

“I WASN’T EVEN INVOLVED!” Ellie screamed as Joel caught up to her, splashing her and tickling her sides. You stood behind Ellie and watched as the two came up with a plan. “Get her!” Ellie shouted as they came running, well swimming, towards you, splashing you and soaking your top half. “St-Stop!” You laughed, putting your arms around Joel’s neck, holding onto him for safety. “He’s the one you need to be saved from!” Ellie laughed and splashed you both, laying on her back.

“Hi.” He looked at the side of your face. “Hi.” You turned to face him and looked into his eyes. “I’m still going to kill you.” Joel threatened. “Yeah yeah. Who else would be your drinking buddy?” You smiled, hugging him tightly.