#bill and frank my heart is so full for you both

[et-cant-phone-home-no-signal]

The Last of Us HBO - Episode 3 thoughts

Warning: Pure yapping ahead again! You know the drill, it's my thoughts, things I've noticed and things I've enjoyed watching the show. It's not that serious, and I don't invite arguments (fellow yappers however are heartily welcome)

(and we're back with another episode analysis! this is a fucking long one folks, they seem to keep getting more and more. i had a lot of feelings watching this episode, especially as a young queer person, it's very special to me and i'm very pleased with the way it was written and performed. A* performance all around imo. as usual, spoilers below the cut)

Could write a whole ass essay on Joel's hands but I'll keep it simple - hands that break bone and kill men are also capable of softness and grief, capable of destruction as well as creation. This opening moment is so poignant and beautiful, god bless - Tess deserves more than a cairn but that's all Joel can do, so he does it - this is Joel saying "I'm sorry, you should still be here and it's my fault"

The gentle music

I've noticed that Joel is very snatchy, he snatches and grabs things often (throwback to me noticing he's a twitchy man in the episode 2 thoughts)

Ellie having Joel's jacket over her legs to keep her warm :')

The way he grabs one tiny bit of jerky, then throws the rest to Ellie, fuck

Ooooh Ellie confrontating Joel with the "look this wasn't my fault", I like it tbh, she's right and he had to hear that cause he's the kind of person to hold a grudge and also blame himself at the same time

First mention of Joel's head scar let's go, planting the question that won't be answered properly for some time ("Someone shot at me and missed." ... "No, I missed too." 🤌🙌)

"You ask a lot of goddamned questions." "Yes, I do 🌸✨"

The return of - "Is there anything bad in here?" "Just you." "Ah. Getting funnier."

Joel's quiet "fuck" cause he can't remember where he stashed his shit is so real, he's so me

Love the little moment of her excitement at finding a pack of unopened tampons - teenage girls in the apocalypse gotta do what they gotta do

I so wonder what's going on in her head during this scene

Totally awesome makeup and prosthetics

Ellie, my darling, you're channeling child psychopath right now (but also I too feel curious as fuck and seeing the fucking growth under the skin being purely cordyceps is so gross and awesome)

Can now come up with a few ideas of what was going on in her head when she stabs it

The concern in Joel's voice, the nonchalant way she saunters out with the tampons 🤌

Also love the constant theme of Ellie suggesting/asking/pushing for a gun and Joel always saying no

Ellie's fascination for things that we take for granted - flying in a plane

"I thought you went to school." "FEDRA school. They don't teach us how their shitty government failed to prevent a pandemic." REAL SO REAL

Info dump love it let's gooo

Joel's little pause on pancake mix...

I really love that even though Joel still sees her as a burden and nothing more than cargo, he still wants to protect her from the nasty shit, he doesn't want a child to see whatever is up there - and Ellie's "well now I have to see" is so fucking childish, she suffers the consequences of that decision but it's a beautiful storytelling mechanism

It's such a terrible visual, all of these old dry bones, 2 decades old, none of them died of infection, no, they died by human hands

The transition 😭😭😭😭 the fabrics cutting to the people IN the fabrics - a fucking mother and her tiny baby I am in TEARS

Great introduction to Bill and great first line, "not today you new world order jackboot fucks" 💅👏

The details of the following shots - the gun wall, guns & ammo magazine, big bottles of sulfuric acid, ammo, the sub basement in a general shot and small things to notice (taxidermied animal in the left bottom corner, everything meticulously ordered on the shelves, the screen setup)

Genuinely think it's hilarious that the sub basement is hidden under a TRUNK and Bill steps out with a gasmask on and hunting rifle cocked, he's such a funny sight and Nick Offerman does a fantastic job just in this first part already - it's so video game coded tbh

The music swell into a montage (let's be honest) of him doing his little doomsday prep shit is fantastic - the mix of totally fucking apeshit stuff (setting boobytraps and fences) added with super domestic stuff (growing his own veggies and rearing chickens) is so amusing

The remote controls 😭 I remember, we had a TV like that when I was a kid

The 'dont tread on me' flag is an interesting and noteworthy thing to mention - I know some about it but I had to Google for more information on it, and it makes sense that Bill would have a flag like that in his home

"Are you armed?" ".... No." "Why did you take that long to answer?" "I don't know, I thought about lying for some reason, but a reason didn't come." Amazing introduction

The fact that Frank bears his neck just a little to let Bill test him, even though he's clearly nervous

Cheeky man shooting his shot with the "I'm really hungry" line, he could tell immediately he could try this with Bill

The whole Arby's line followed by the Arby's was never free 😂💀

I think this is the moment Frank truly began to clock that he and Bill are cut from the same cloth, it's such a nothing but everything moment

I think it's so amusing that Bill has such a lovely house and has been living there successfully for 4 years in the outbreak so far, but there's dust fucking all over the dressers and shit 😂😭 man doesn't have cleaning on his priority list and I can see Frank thinking "damn he needs someone else here huh"

God they're so awkward 😩💕

Frank's SMILE, the way he looks at Bill like he just gave him the world - Murray Bartlett god bless you

The way Frank doesn't even wait one second, he fucking digs in immediately, yeah I believe u haven't eaten in 2 days hun

But look how delicate he holds the cutlery, he's someone who probably used to enjoy living decently and enjoyed good food before it all went to shit - he clearly loves the food (yeah he's hungry but that's the kind of "damn this is restaurant level" reaction you'd expect on something like masterchef), and his excitement at the wine is fucking adorable

"A man who knows to pair rabbit with a Beaujolais." "I know I don't seem like the type." " No, you do." HELP

Frank stop bullying the poor man's music sheet collection lmao

So I didn't know Linda Ronstadt before this at all, so I googled her and listened to some of her music - it's very nice, though not something I could really stick myself into, it's more like nice music to just have playing in the background whilst I'm working personally - but I do just so love that the characters can have a connection over it. That's one of the great joys of music

Bill standing in the back, wringing his hands because damn Frank, you're kinda butchering it lmao

Oh this song means something so much more

"There is no girl." "I know." sobbing

Same-sex marriage wasn't legal in Massachusetts until 2004, so they never got to know legal and safe love and still, here they are 😭 I'm in my feels over this because these men never got to be safe and out, they never got to be open with their relationships, and now they've found each other in a broken fucked up world that doesn't given a shit who you are, it will just try to kill you regardless

This kiss means so much to me - oh Bill 😭

Both of them with wet eyes, overwhelmed with emotion, and Frank asks "what's your name?" I'm so deceased

This is the softest most natural and sweet non explicit sex scene I've ever watched. I watched this with my mum and not once did I feel embarrassed, both of us thought it was a beautiful moment and very human - Bill has never had the opportunity to be with a man before, he's what, in his late 30s? Early 40s? And Frank is so non-judgemental over this lack of experience. He knows, he gets it, he understands. This whole scene is just soft, gentle and brought me to tears. This is the kind of queer representation I've been yearning for in mainstream media and it's so rare to find 🙌

Skip to 3 years on and it's a lovers quarrel, so fucking real

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot. I live in this world, you live in a psycho bunker where 9/11 was an inside job, and the government are all Nazis." "THE GOVERNMENT ARE ALL NAZIS!" BE SO FOR REAL (I can't believe this is real script I'm vibrating with joy) - they've clearly had discussions like this before because Frank just goes straight to threatening to off himself which I find hysterical

They have such different love languages - Frank is an artist, he cares about small details, Bill is more practical, he'll cook and protect but so help him if you wanna use resources for something he seems frivolous

The angry "you WHAT!?" immediately cutting to Frank, Bill, Tess and Joel eating lunch outside is *chef's kiss*

💕✨Tess✨💕 I love you so much

Frank and Tess: 🥰✨🌸

Bill and Joel: 💀🔪⚠️

"I understand. If my, uh... If mine, brought strangers into our situation, I wouldn't be happy either." Oh Joel,,,,,

I love how even though this is 7 years into the cordyceps pandemic, you can see Joel is so similar to the 20 year mark, "get that gun outta my face", like yeah you tell him

I do adore the total lack of judgement from Joel (and Tess) that Bill and Frank are together, cause he clearly knows but it just doesn't bother him. Ally behaviour ✨ (does Joel give bi energy? discuss)

Why does Joel's warning feel like a prelude

Crying at two men eating fresh strawberries wasn't on my 2024 bingo card, but here I am, sobbing my eyes out with joy at these two - their giggles and pure joy at eating something they haven't had in like 10 years, the shared love and contentment in that hazy evening sun, the way Frank grabs onto Bill and just holds his arm in his,,,, I'm just such a mess

"I'm sorry." "For what?" "Getting older faster than you." "Ah, I like you older. Older means we're still here." 😭😭😭💕

"I was never afraid before you showed up." Fucking stop it oh my god

"Not on the strawberries!" Yeah that got me chuckling too

I fucking KNEW it, people are the worst, Joel was right

I just noticed Frank is wearing house slippers in this scene oh my god

Wish we'd gotten a little scene of Bill teaching Frank to shoot, could you imagine?

I like that even though Bill is in excruciating pain and thinks he's dying, he still wants Frank to be safe and insists he calls Joel, and isn't that also something? That at this point Joel is a safe enough person for him to even consider that the most important thing

The cut to 2023, seeing them Old and Frank basically immobile,,,, yeah that stings

Gonna note down my love for the costume, makeup, hair and set departments here for this episode - they aged these two so well, their clothes suit them, and the small gradual changes in decorating and scenery (in and outside the house) are seen and appreciated immensely

Paint used to be a frivolity, now Frank's paintings are everywhere <3

The wink had me giggling, they're so cute

Love is cutting your partner's food, giving them a cup with a straw because it's easier for them, helping with their medication, sitting next to them because each other is all that matters - love is staying with your partner and helping them into their bed because they can't do it themselves anymore

The painting of Bill in their bedroom :')

The certainty when Frank says this is his last day.... It's so painful but I'm also so glad he has the choice, that he's deciding that this is it - it's better than what most people get

Bill crying is 😭😭 he needs Frank

Love this realistic speech from Frank here - no, it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, but it was still fucking decent and that's what matters

I cannot describe the noise I made when he talked about getting married

"Do you love me?" "Yes." Bill's face, yes of course he fucking does Frank, he'd do anything for you - but he needs this guidance, one more time

When "On the Nature of Daylight" started playing, I shit you not, I had a damn near meltdown and mum made me pause the show because I started to get so damn upset. That song is fairly overused for these kind of sad scenes and situations, but fuck, does it get me every single time

Getting married by the piano :') the law may not have recognised them but fuck the law in a lawless world, be happy

The same meal as the first one they had together 😭 the same reaction just toned down my god

My mum already suspected that Bill had spiked the whole bottle, but I was naïve and it shocked me when Bill chugged his own glass and Frank asked - oddly, I agree with Frank, that's the most romantic shit ever

Bill's speech guys come on I'm only a little queer in a big world and these old men have my heart and soul

I love that their bedroom moved from upstairs to downstairs, necessary detail but important regardless

Joel knows the door pin 🙌

Clearly some time has gone since they died cause there's dust everywhere, the flowers are dead and the food is mouldy (I'd guess at least a month, judging off of the visual evidence and also the fact that the radio was blasting 80s when they left Boston)

A part of me is sad Ellie never got to meet Bill and Frank, I bet Frank would have immediately taken a shine to her. They'd have been the slighty psycho gay uncles and aided Ellie in her lesbian ways (ooc? Probably idc)

The fact that it's 'to whomever, but probably Joel', mmmmyeah, not even Tess, no, Joel

A date! August 29th, when did they leave Boston??? (Found out they literally left on the same date what the hell Craig Mazin are you trying to kill me)

The way Ellie reads the laughter caught me off guard and I choked

Bill's letter breaks my heart, truly, so telling of Joel and Bill's character

'use them to keep Tess safe' yeah, it's okay, it's not like my heart was already ripped out anyways

Joel scrunching the letter,,, I get it

"What you say goes." YEAHHH glad they kept that

"Dude." "No." the ongoing gun debate is still funny

Seeing Ellie grab the toilet paper had me flash backing into 2020 *shudders* dark times

Ellie getting excited about a hot shower, immediately saying Joel needs to cause he stinks, mwah

THE SHIRT, IT'S ELLIE'S SHIRT YEAHH GO COSTUME DEPARTMENT

Gun = acquired (and immediately hidden)

"Well don't you look pretty!" "Shut up."

Joel is wearing Frank's shirt 😭

Joel with slicked back wet hair....... Yeah

My girl has no clue how cars work and I love that

Joel likes Linda Ronstadt :')

Close on their open window, with the first song Bill and Frank shared together, yeah I'm fine haha

I think my favourite thing about this episode is that it's the opposite of 'bury your gays'. These gays got to live their lives and grow old together. They got to love, and adore, and enjoy life together for 16 years. 16!! They died on their own terms, having lived happily in relative safety together, and that's fucking beautiful.

What a read, thanks if you made it to the end! this episode grabbed me by the balls and hasn't let go, so i apologise for the severe rambling of this post, like i say, it's just my running thought process. Do you agree with some of my notes, was there anything you noticed that i didn't? Comments and reblogs welcome <3

Episode 1 thoughts:

Episode 2 thoughts:

[januaryembrs]

SUCH A PRETTY HOUSE | Joel Miller x Reader

request: Can you do Joel miller x reader no surprises by radio head angst fic

description: Joel remembers that one summer he knew her, and the ten year scar it left him.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: Pregnant!Reader, major character death (canon to TLOU and also reader dies, not explicit,), guns, death, violence. Joel feels unworthy, mentions of Sarah.

authors notes: em tries not to write something heart wrenching challenge, go.

There weren’t many things that meant something to Joel anymore. The day cordyceps took over the world, it took almost everything in him with it. Whatever was left made room for anger and resentment to curl inside him, make its home in his bones, make him lash out at everyone who wasn’t Tess. 

But he felt himself make an exception the day he met her. 

He’d been entirely sceptical when Tess told him she’d been able to find someone on a radio channel who could help them with supplies. It would mean sneaking out of QZ, a dumb move even on a good day, and trusting a stranger that was all but promising them candy if they climbed into his van. He wasn’t a stupid man, not by any means. But Tess had this way of bending his resolve, pushing him further and further if it meant they could come out better in the end. 

When they’d arrived to Frank and Bill’s for the first time, they were gobsmacked to see an entire street of houses cordoned off with barbed wire and explosives, as if it had never been touched by cordyceps, as if they’d catapulted into a time before people were eaten alive and before the world ended. A quaint little town with dusty cars and clean streets and houses and empty shops and gardens full of wildflowers and strawberries. 

Joel felt like he might be sick, but perhaps that was something between jealousy and caution just playing on his tongue. 

A spritely man a little older than him bounded down the stairs to the first house on the left, piercing blue eyes looking over them with the same excitement of a puppy being told to play fetch. There was no way a man so jolly could have done all of this himself. 

“Tess?” He called, and Joel remembered the way Tess smiled sweetly, because she was just as stunned as he was that they were in some sort of utopia, a little fence and a gate the only thing between them and how things used to be. 

“It’s Frank, right?” She guessed, and it was then that Joel heard the caution, “Didn’t you say there was two of you?” 

“Yes, Bill, my-” He stopped himself short, as if he didn’t quite know what to call him. He breezed over the hesitation quickly, buzzing in on the remote the combination, looking then to Joel, “You must be Joel,”

Joel gave him a nod, his fingers tightening on the shotgun in his hand. It wasn’t even a split second after the gate started to slide open that another man emerged from the house, his face thunderous as he barrelled down the stairs and towards where they stood. 

“Frank, didn’t I tell you to wait,” He snapped, his brows strained into a frown, a gun of his own in his palms, “We need to make sure she’s ready, they could be infected-”

“She?” Joel cut in it a biting tone of his own, “Who’s she? You said there was two-” 

“Bill,” Frank warned, as the shorter man produced a scanner out of his pocket and ran it over both of their necks. Joel knew this Bill could feel the heat of his glare on the side of his head, though as soon as the screen lit up green for both of them, he saw him take a sigh of relief. “We’re never going to make any more friends if you keep shoving them away,”

Joel couldn’t really blame him for worrying. 

It wasn’t until they saw the door opposite theirs swing open that he understood even more why Bill was so unwelcoming. 

He should have seen it before, the sweet hanging baskets full of lupines and primrose, the luscious lawn trimmed and primped, lined with tended bluebonnets and sunflowers beaming at the woman that emerged from the fresh white house with a bright grin, like she was their sun and they smiled back at her in awe.

She wore a white sundress, long enough to touch her knees, and it flowed with the warm breeze as they stepped past the threshold to the town, her feet bare save for some little brown sandals that seemed in better condition than he’d expect. Her face glowed with excitement, gaze switching between him and Tess, and her figure was full and soft at the same time. 

It wasn’t until she got closer he could see where her stomach pulled against the fabric obtusely and it was like a sadness washed over the two of them as she finally got close enough to talk. 

She was pregnant.

“You must be Tessa! Frank told me all about you,” She said, pulling the woman in for a warm hug Tess didn’t seem to have much of a choice in. 

“It’s Tess,” His companion corrected, though she gave her a light squeeze back, and her face softened out as if she didn’t seem to mind the intrusion, nor the new name. 

Bill froze up at the sight of her tugging Joel closer the minute she'd released Tess, ignoring every boundary his standoffish expression could possibly set, and it was like he understood why the flowers twinkled up at her. She was warm, incredibly so to the point even when he didn’t return the gesture, he felt himself conscious of how rough his skin was and how hard the gun must have been pressing against her chest where it squished in between them and how he hoped to god it wasn’t hurting her or the baby. 

He felt cruel the minute she pulled away, crueller than he usually felt, but his frown never wavered, not even when she simpered at him, despite Bill saying her name in a worried tone. 

“Just ignore him, he would bubble wrap me if he could,” She whispered to Joel, and her laugh was a tinkling bell in the wind. She grabbed Tess’s hand in a quick and gentle motion, walking her up the pathway back to her house, and Joel could have sworn he heard the promise of ice tea leave her lips.

“I’m so pleased to have another woman around,” She said to Tess, who looked as if she was fighting back a feathery happiness of her own around the woman who seemed too good to be true in a world so harsh as this one. 

Joel knew he would have his work cut out for him trying not to get attached. 

-

Ellie knew she was on thin ice already. For a girl of only fourteen, she was incredibly perceptive of people’s feelings, especially the grumpy, grey haired bastard that had just lost perhaps the only woman who meant anything to him. She had to admit Tess’s death made her feel like she was some sort of unlucky charm, like anyone who so much as got close to her was doomed from the word ‘go’. 

She hated herself for it, and she assumed from Joel’s silence and the way he’d stormed out of Bill and Frank’s house as soon as she’d read that letter that he hated her too. 

That was until she saw him walking across the street to the house with dead flower beds and smashed windows and no sign of life that she thought perhaps she wasn’t entirely the problem. 

She found him in the bedroom, laying on the double mattress with his eyes closed, though she knew he wasn’t sleeping. The walls were a pretty sort of posy pink, the sheets an intricate pattern of doves and white lilies, and a little painting on the nightstand of two women smiling at one another, one so clearly being Tess while the other remained an enigma. 

It wasn’t until she spotted the cradle next to the bed that her heart sank into her stomach. 

“Bill and Frank weren’t the first ones to die, were they?” Ellie asked softly, and he shook his head wordlessly, “Was it yours? The…”  The baby.  

She couldn’t bring herself to say it. She wouldn’t put it past him to yell at her for prying. 

He lay there like a wounded animal, and he shocked her when he actually spoke. 

“It wasn’t mine,” His voice was gravelly, hardened, yet worn out all the same, “But we were going to-” He stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath, “We were going to raise it together, the two of us. Tess was supposed to be godmother,”

He remembered the way she used to call her Tessa, and how Tess didn’t seem to mind it so much once she saw how truly sickly sweet she was to her core, and how she said it so full of love, the way you could only love your best friend. He remembered how he kissed her, a few months after that first time he’d seen her, how he’d kissed her and pulled her close and how they’d slept in that room together, and how he’d promised her everything was going to be okay because he was going to protect her and that baby. 

Joel remembered thinking that was his second chance. How he knew it wouldn’t bring Sarah back, nothing could ever, but maybe his sweet girl and that baby would be his chance to prove that he could save someone, that he could do some good. 

“What happened? Where’s the baby?” Ellie asked too intrusively, hoping he didn’t shut her out entirely after this, but she had to know. She had to know who the pretty woman in the picture was, and why Tess, even the little splotch of paint she was now, looked at her so besotted that Ellie had to have answers now. She had to know why they had never spoken about her and why Joel seemed to be giving up on her now. Like Tess had pushed him over the edge of a sadness years in the making. 

She didn’t think he would reply, but then; “One night, raiders came while me and Tess were getting her supplies from the city. Few weeks before she was due.” She heard his voice deepen into something dark and angry, “She didn’t stand a chance.”

And Ellie never brought her up again after that day, only once to ask her name, and neither did Joel. He left his sweet girl and whatever he could have been in that pretty house, put her in a box in his chest right next to Sarah, until it didn’t hurt so much to think about her.

[nova-is-a-writer-now]

Hidden embers

Chapter 6

Chapter summary: They say drunken words are sober thoughts, and Joel is about to hear all about yours.

A/N: Hello hello, HE wednesday is back!!! Im so excited about this chapter, it might be the longest one so far. I wanted to wait until i had chapter 7 completed before i posted this but I can’t wait any longer for y’all to read this, i appreciate the comments and reposts you guys have been giving me SO MUCH, it fills my heart 🤍 anyways enough yapping, enjoy!!

Warnings: No outbreak AU, no use of y/n, no sarah, Age gap, DBF!Joel, Slow burn, a tiny bit of angst, Alcohol consumption.

Series masterlist

You're halfway down the cereal aisle, arms full of groceries because, as usual, you convinced yourself you didn’t need a basket. Just a few things, you thought—when have you ever had that kind of self-control?

You shift the items in your grasp, trying to keep them from toppling over, when you hear a voice behind you

“Oh, bless your heart, need some help with that?”

You turn to see a blonde girl about your age, her smile warm and her Southern drawl as sweet as honey. She’s holding a basket in one hand and offering you the other

You chuckle, a little relieved. “Please. I thought I could manage, but I clearly overestimated myself.”

“Here, take mine,” she says, handing you her basket. “I’ll grab another.”

Before you can thank her, she’s already grabbed a new basket from nearby, her movements quick and effortless.

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” you say, feeling the weight lift from your arms.

“No trouble at all,” she replies with a bright smile. “I’m Charlotte, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m—”

“—I know who you are,” she cuts in, her smile widening. “Our dads are friends. Your’s always braggin’ ‘bout you.”

You chuckle at that. “Yeah I think he’s mentioned yours too, Bill and Frank, right?”

“That’s them,” she grins. “We live just a few blocks down from your place.” As you both walk down the aisle together, she glances over at you with a curious look. “You just moved back, right? How’re you liking small-town life?”

“I’m… taking it day by day,” you say, half-joking.

“That bad, huh?”

You let out a breathy laugh. “You could say that.”

She gently touches your arm, stopping you in your tracks. “Got any plans this Friday?”

“Not really, why?”

She gives you a grin that could charm the pants off just about anyone. “A few of us are going out. Just some drinks, a few laughs. Maybe a fun night out is what you need.”

You think it over for a moment. Sure, you’ve kept in touch with your college friends, but since moving back, you haven’t really hung out with anyone besides your parents. And, well… Joel.

The thought is enough to convince you. “Yeah, alright. I’m in.”

“Perfect! I’ll swing by and pick you up around seven. You won’t regret it, promise.” She winks and turns down the next aisle, leaving you with a lighter heart and a basket full of groceries.

It took a while, but you finally dug out the perfect black top from the back of your closet. Paired with some flared jeans and a leather jacket slung over your arm, you had yourself a killer outfit.

You hopped down the stairs, hearing the hum of Charlotte’s car idling out front.

“Mom! Dad! I’m heading out now, I’ll be back around midnight!” you call, pulling the jacket on as you reach the bottom step.

Your mom emerges from the kitchen, a towel in her hands, mid-dry. “Heading out where?”

You sigh, already regretting the interaction. “With Charlotte, mom. I told you earlier.”

“Oh, Charlie! She’s a darling. She’s doing the pageant this year, you know? Took a bit of convincing, but she’s a star. I’ve got all my money on her winning. That body, that face—she’s got it in the bag.” Her eyes flick over you then, slowly dragging up and down your own body. “Glad you’re hanging out with her, maybe you’ll pick up a thing or two.”

You’re used to the digs—decades of practice, really—but lately, it’s been harder to brush off. The grip you have on your emotions feels like it’s slipping more every day.

Still, you hold back the biting retort on the tip of your tongue. Not worth starting a third world war over this.

“Goodnight, mom.”

You turn and walk out the door, heading straight for Charlotte’s car, ignoring the sting of her words as best you can.

The car ride there flies by. Charlotte, despite your previous judgment after your mom mentioned her being a pageant girl, is beyond fun. You do karaoke the whole way there, getting to know each other a bit better in between songs. She’s not just sweet but also insanely smart. She’s finishing up nursing school and has her entire future pretty much planned out. You envy her a little for that last part.

Once she parks in front of the bar, she turns to you and says, “You ready to wild out?”

You laugh, nerves bubbling under the surface, trying to play it off. “Always ready to wild out.”

Stepping out of the car, you smooth down your top and follow Charlotte toward the entrance. The place is a little louder than you anticipated, music spilling out into the night air along with bursts of laughter. It’s a small town bar, but it’s packed.

“Come on, let’s get a drink first!” Charlotte grabs your hand, leading you through the crowd with ease, like she’s been here a hundred times before. You feel the warmth of her energy, the way she confidently navigates the room, and you can’t help but feel a little more at ease.

At the bar, Charlotte orders for both of you, flashing the bartender a bright smile as he hands over two drinks. She passes you one. “Here’s to new friends,” she says, raising her glass.

“To new friends,” you echo, clinking your glass with hers before taking a sip. The burn of alcohol feels like the start of something good, a buzz already settling in.

Charlotte leans closer, her voice cutting through the noise. “So… any cute guys on your radar tonight?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Not really here for that.”

“Oh, come on, there’s gotta be someone.” She gives you a teasing nudge, but when you hesitate, her eyes narrow in playful suspicion. “Wait. Don’t tell me. You’ve got a guy already?”

Your heart skips a beat at the question, and suddenly, Joel flashes in your mind. You try to shake it off, but Charlotte’s quick. She catches the flicker of emotion on your face, and her smile shifts into something more knowing.

“Oh, girl… you do, don’t you?”

You can’t help the way your face heats up, and you take another long sip of your drink to cover it. “It’s not like that.”

Charlotte leans in, her smile turning mischievous. “Uh-huh. Sure it isn’t. Spill—who’s the lucky guy?”

“It’s complicated,” you mutter, feeling a little ridiculous. You came out tonight to get away from these thoughts, not drown in them.

“Complicated usually means interesting,” she says, taking a sip from her own glass. “Is it someone I’d know?”

You hesitate. The thought of saying Joel’s name out loud feels… wrong, somehow. Like it’ll make everything you’ve been wrestling with real, something you can’t just shove aside like you’ve been trying to. You shift in your seat, tapping your fingers against the cool glass.

“Maybe,” you finally admit, your voice quieter now. “But it’s not a good idea. He’s older. Like, way older.”

Charlotte raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but not judging. “Well, you’re an adult, that shouldn’t be much of an issue. If the chemistry’s there, it’s there.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just that, he’s also a family friend. I don’t even know if he’d be interested, you know? It’s just too messy.”

Charlotte gives you a sympathetic look. “I get it. Messy’s never fun.” She takes a deep breath before flashing you a soft smile. “But for what it’s worth, you don’t have to feel guilty about liking someone, even if it feels complicated.”

You let her words hang in the air for a moment, absorbing them. You know she’s right, but knowing doesn’t make it any easier.

“Come on,” Charlotte says, pulling you from your thoughts. She stands, taking her drink with her. “Let’s dance. Forget about the complicated stuff for a while.”

You give her a small smile, grateful for the distraction. “Yeah, okay.”

You follow her to the dance floor, the thrum of the music vibrating through your body as you try to let yourself go, to let the rhythm take over and drown out the noise in your head.

A little while passes before Charlotte’s friends finally arrive. She spots them first, waving them over from where you're both standing near the dance floor.

“Over here!” she calls out, her voice rising above the music. “Guys, this is the girl I was telling y’all about.”

You turn to see a group heading your way—two girls and a guy, all dressed up but casual in a way. The girls reach you first, both of them with that same easy warmth Charlotte exudes.

“This is Amber,” Charlotte says, gesturing to a brunette with big doe eyes and gorgeous caramel skin.

Amber flashes you a wide grin. “Hey! So nice to finally meet you. Glad you survived a car ride with Charlotte, without any permanent hearing loss, I hope?”

Charlotte gasps, playfully smacking Amber on the arm. “Excuse me, my car concerts are a privilege to experience.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Honestly, the karaoke was the best part.”

Amber raises her eyebrows with a smirk. “See? She gets it.”

Charlotte rolls her eyes before motioning to the girl beside Amber. “And this is Josie,” she introduces, pointing to the girl with sleek black hair and striking hazel eyes.

“Hey there,” Josie says, pulling you in for a quick, friendly hug. “Welcome to the chaos.”

You chuckle, feeling instantly comfortable around them. Charlotte then glances over her shoulder at the guy lingering behind the girls—a tall, brown-haired guy with an easygoing smile.

“Oh, and this is Alex. He’s Amber’s brother” she adds, nodding toward him.

“Hey, nice to meet you,” Alex says, stepping forward with a relaxed grin. “Charlotte’s been talking about you all week.”

You can’t help but laugh. “All good things, I hope?”

He nods, his voice smooth and calm. “All great things.”

His energy is different from the girls—more laid-back—but he’s just as welcoming.

The rest of the night is exactly that—effortless fun. Laughter flows as freely as the drinks, your mind slipping into a peaceful place that you haven’t felt since you got back. It’s a feeling you cling to, desperate to keep it alive for as long as you can. Like being wrapped in a bubble where everything is light, easy, and uncomplicated. You don’t want it to burst.

But eventually, thirst creeps in, and you find yourself craving another drink. You make your way to the bar, Alex trailing behind you.

“You having fun?” he asks, once you both have drinks in hand.

You nod, smiling as you prop your head up on your closed fist. “Actually, yeah. A lot more than I expected.”

Alex chuckles, leaning against the bar, his eyes studying you in that way you’ve seen before—soft but curious. “Well, contrary to popular belief, us small-town folk know how to have fun too.”

His smile is kind, warm. It suits him. You take a moment to really look at him, now that you're out of the haze of the dance floor and the dim lighting. He’s undeniably handsome—those soft features, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he grins. He feels safer, easier. A lot more inviting and open than… fuck.

Even as you take in all of Alex’s best features, your thoughts drift elsewhere. To a man whose presence has been ingrained in your brain for the past month. The way his rough edges make him so different from Alex. How his gaze isn’t soft at all, it lingers like a weight, heavy and consuming in a way that you can’t shake off.

Fuck.

You’re sitting here, comparing this sweet, charming guy to Joel, trying to convince yourself to like Alex more. You should. He’s age appropriate, and your dad would love him. It would make everything so much simpler. But no matter how hard you try, Joel lingers in the back of your mind, refusing to leave you alone. You haven’t been able to escape him, not even with a handsome guy straight-up flirting with you at a bar.

The realization hits you like a punch to the gut. You blink, lost in the mess of your thoughts.

“Hey,” Alex’s voice pulls you back to the moment, concern etched on his face. “You alright? Where’d you go?”

You force a smile, waving it off like it’s nothing. “Sorry, just spaced out for a second.” But the truth is, you’re spiraling, and you desperately need air. Suddenly, all the drinks you've downed feel like too much and not enough at the same time. Everything looks hazy and blurry, and you just need space.

Once the bartender hands you your new drink, you turn to Alex. “I’m uh… I’m gonna go get some air. Would you let the girls know for me?”

Alex looks at you for a second, sensing there’s more to it, but he concedes. “Sure, take your time, I’ll let them know.”

With that, you step outside.

The cool midnight air hits your skin the moment you push through the doors, instantly grounding you, but it doesn’t quite settle the buzzing in your chest. You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing thoughts, but it’s impossible to ignore the weight that’s been sitting there for weeks.

Joel.

You hate that it’s him filling your mind right now, after everything. You should be enjoying this—cute guy, fun night, no strings attached. But instead, all you can think about is the way he makes you feel.

It’s frustrating, and you’re tired of carrying it around in silence.

You’re realizing now, with an empty glass in your hands, that this last drink might’ve been a mistake. Without fully thinking it through, you pull out your phone and scroll to his name. You hesitate for only a second before hitting the call button. It rings once, twice, then a third time before it goes to voicemail.

You should hang up—calling was a bad decision in the first place—but leaning against the wall of the bar, staring up at the sky, you can’t help the words that spill out.

“Hey…” Your voice is low, slurred with alcohol but steady enough. “I went out with a friend tonight, Charlotte. I’m sure you know her. We came to this small, crowded bar that I don’t feel like going back into, and there was this cute guy, dazzling smile, pretty puppy eyes, you know the kind. God, he used to be my type too—me from a couple of months ago would be screaming to go give him my number. But he was talking to me, and I just… I couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying. It was like he was missing something, a bit more of a drawl or a patchy beard or kicking me out of his house randomly ‘cause he started touching my leg.” You chuckle softly. “But it’s not just him, Joel, it’s all of them. Every boy I see now—they're all either too soft, or too short, or too lanky, too nice or too chatty. They're just… I don’t know, not you. And it’s funny, ‘cause you don’t care. I’m here losing sleep over insignificant glances and touches and whatever, and you’re walking into my house to watch the damn game with my dad like it’s nothing. Like this is all nothing. Which I guess it is. It makes me a bit stupid to be acting like there was ever something here to begin with.”

You pause, your chest tight, mind buzzing.

“It doesn’t matter. This whole thing is stupid. I should probably figure out a way to get myself back home.” You pause again, biting your lip. “Please delete this in the morning and let’s never talk about it again, okay? I’ll be mortified. Goodnight.”

Your breath hitches as the words tumble out, and you clench your jaw, suddenly embarrassed by your own admission. But it’s too late. You’ve already hung up.

Steam still clings to the bathroom mirror as Joel steps out of the shower, towel slung low on his hips. The day has weighed on him—long hours, sun beating down, the usual aches and stiffness creeping into his bones. He runs a hand through his damp hair, catching a glimpse of himself in the fogged-up glass, the lines on his face more pronounced tonight.

With a heavy sigh, he pads barefoot across the room to his nightstand, reaching for his phone. There’s a part of him that wants to just lie down and shut the world out for a while, but old habits die hard, and checking his phone before bed is one he can’t seem to break. He unlocks it, thumb absently scrolling through notifications until your name flashes across the screen, and a voicemail icon blinks at him.

He freezes.

Your name.

For a moment, Joel just stares at it, thumb hovering above the screen. He hasn’t heard from you since the other night at your dad’s house—since that awkward, tension-filled game that still sits heavy in his mind. It would’ve been easier to keep the distance if you weren’t always… there. But you were.

He hesitates.

Maybe he shouldn’t listen.

But then, with a quiet curse under his breath, Joel presses play and brings the phone to his ear. There’s a beat of silence, a soft crackle before your voice comes through, and he feels something knot tight in his chest.

“Hey…” Your voice is quiet, a little slurred, like you’ve had a few too many. His brows knit together as you continue. You start talking about the bar, about a guy. A cute guy. A pang of something ugly twists in Joel’s gut, though he forces himself to keep listening.

"...used to be my type too… me from a couple months ago would be screaming to go give him my number."

Joel exhales, hand gripping the phone a little tighter as he leans back against the bed frame, legs stretched out in front of him. He swallows down the strange burn in his throat when you laugh, your words sinking in deeper with every second.

It’s when you mention the comparisons—how no one quite measures up to him—that something flickers across his expression. You shouldn’t be saying this, shouldn’t be thinking this, and yet… here you are. His jaw clenches when you talk about him touching your leg. He remembers that moment, how he’d pushed you away, forced that distance between you both before it got out of hand. But the way you bring it up now makes his pulse quicken, heat rising in him despite his efforts to keep it at bay.

"Every boy I see now—they're all either too soft, or too short, or too lanky, too nice or too chatty. They're just… not you."

His heart pounds harder at that, the breath he didn’t know he was holding finally releasing in a quiet exhale. Damn it. You weren’t supposed to feel this way. And he wasn’t supposed to like hearing it.

Your voice wavers when you say it doesn’t matter, that the whole thing is stupid, but Joel knows better. He hears it in the way you trail off, that vulnerability you can’t quite hide when you tell him to delete the message, pretend it never happened.

The voicemail ends, the room falling into an almost oppressive silence as Joel lowers the phone. He’s still staring at the screen, his thumb hovering over the delete option, but he can’t bring himself to press it. He should. You told him to. It would be the smart thing to do—erase the evidence, keep things clean between you two, never bring it up again.

But instead, Joel lets the phone fall to his chest, closing his eyes as he leans his head back against the headboard. His pulse still thrums in his ears, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. He knows he should forget it, but deep down, he knows it’s already too late for that.

A gnawing worry creeps in, pricking at the back of his mind. The slur in your voice, the way you sounded just… off. The mention of getting home by yourself.

He tells himself it’s just concern, that’s all. You’d been drinking, probably too much, and you shouldn’t be out alone at this hour. What kind of man would he be if he didn’t at least make sure you were alright?

But even as he gets up, throwing on an old t-shirt and grabbing his truck keys, Joel knows it’s not just that. There’s a deeper pull, something he can’t shake, and it’s not only about your safety. It’s about you, being near you, even when he’s spent weeks trying to keep that distance. The line he keeps redrawing in the sand has blurred so many times now, and yet, here he is, crossing it again.

He grips the steering wheel tight as he drives, headlights cutting through the dark, each street he passes tightening the knot of anticipation in his chest. He shouldn’t be doing this. It’s reckless, irresponsible. He’s trying to justify it—hell, he could call Charlotte, or maybe your dad, someone else to check on you. But no, he’s out here, already halfway across town, and that says more than he’s willing to admit.

Finally, he spots you. The dim glow of a streetlight casts a faint circle around where you’re sitting on the sidewalk, head resting on your arms, knees pulled up close to your chest. You look small, lost, and it tugs at something inside of him.

Joel pulls up slowly, parking a few feet away, his eyes locked on you through the windshield. For a second, he just sits there, watching. You’re still, unmoving, save for the occasional shift of your shoulders. He debates turning around, leaving before you even notice, but he knows that’s not an option. Not now.

Stepping out of the truck, Joel takes a breath, steeling himself before approaching. His boots scuff softly against the pavement as he gets closer, his heart thudding in his chest.

He clears his throat softly. “Hey…” His voice is low, careful. “You alright?”

You lift your head slowly, blinking against the bright light of the streetlamp as your eyes meet his. For a second, you don’t say anything, and neither does he.

Then your soft voice breaks the silence. “Are you really here or am I that drunk?”

He can’t help but let out a breathy laugh. Just like that, all the worries and the guilt, the pressure to do what’s right, it’s all gone in a heartbeat. It doesn’t matter. Not right now. Because you're sitting there in front of him, beautiful as ever, looking up with those glossy, wide eyes that make your usual sweetness seem even more disarming.

So he let’s go. Just for tonight, he can enjoy this feeling instead of shoving it down.

“Come on, party girl,” he murmurs, his voice softer now. “Let’s get you home.”

You try to stand, but your heels betray you, and before you can fully straighten up, you’re stumbling. Joel’s right there, catching you without a second thought, just like he always is. His hand wraps around your arm, steadying you, like it's second nature.

“I need to stop tumbling down every time I’m around you,” you mumble, slurring your words with a hint of frustration in your humor. Your brows furrow in concentration as you focus on taking the small, careful steps toward Joel’s truck. “I swear I’m usually not a clumsy person.”

He chuckles, his hand still holding onto you as if it’s where it belongs. “It’s alright. I like you tumbling onto me.”

There’s a subtle warmth in his words that he doesn’t even try to hide now.

He helps you get situated in the passenger seat before rounding the truck and sliding into the driver’s seat. He doesn’t start the engine right away, though. For a second, he just sits there, hands gripping the wheel, his eyes flicking toward you and then away, not knowing how far he’s allowing himself to go tonight. He needs to say something, move this goddamn situation forward somehow.

You break the silence first, your voice softer now, pulling him back from the spiral. “Joel… You didn’t have to come get me.”

His fingers flex on the wheel, jaw tightening. He knows he didn’t have to come. He shouldn’t have. But Lord, the second he heard that voicemail, his mind spun into a frenzy—your voice all slurred and honest in a way it never had been before. You sounded… lost. He doesn’t want to admit how incapable he felt of doing nothing in that moment.

He lets out a slow breath, rubbing his hand over his face. "Yeah, I did."

You look at him, blinking slowly like you’re trying to figure him out. He can see the alcohol buzzing behind your eyes, but there’s clarity there too, something cutting through all that fog. “Why?” you ask, your voice soft, hesitant. “Why did you come?”

He swears he hears the crack in his own chest before he even opens his mouth. Why the hell did he come? He knows the answer. He knows what you’re trying to get him to say. But he can’t say it, not without giving something away he isn’t ready to give. So he falls back on the one thing that’s easy. “Because you called,” he says, his voice low, rough. “And I—” He hesitates, the words sitting on his tongue like they’ll choke him. “I was worried.”

Worried. It’s weak, but it’s the best excuse he’s got.

Your gaze softens, and it’s like you see right through him, see all the bullshit he’s trying to keep up. “You don’t have to keep doing that,” you murmur. “Act like you’re just worried about me because of… whatever. I’m not stupid, Joel.”

His heart stutters in his chest. His first instinct is to argue, to push back, but something about the way you’re looking at him makes him pause. He clenches his jaw, trying to harden his expression, but you’ve always had this way of seeing past that. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he manages, though his voice comes out more defensive than he means for it to.

But you don’t back down. You never do. “I think I do. I think you do too.”

Joel’s heart starts pounding harder in his chest. There’s a moment where everything feels too quiet, like the whole world is holding its breath, waiting for him to do something—say something that’ll either make this all blow up in his face or force him to admit things he’s been burying for weeks. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He shakes his head, trying to break free from whatever hold you’ve got on him.

He starts the truck, the sound of the engine a relief. “We should get you home,” he mutters, trying to steady his voice, even though everything inside him feels like it’s tipping over the edge.

But as he pulls onto the road, his grip on the wheel tight, he can’t stop glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. He’s trying to keep his distance, trying to convince himself this is just him doing what’s right, being a good man. But the truth’s gnawing at him, clawing its way up, no matter how much he pushes it down: He didn’t come here just to get you home.

"Can we get something to eat?" Your voice startles him, bringing him back from the place he just mentally went to. “I’m starving.”

“Um… sure. What do you feel like?”

“Anything greasy and fast. Something that’ll soak up all the bad decisions I made tonight,” you joke, but there’s something in your voice, a vulnerability that Joel doesn’t miss.

You end up at a late-night drive-thru, ordering burgers and fries. He pulls into a quiet spot and turns off the engine, the warmth of the food filling the truck. It’s quiet for a moment, the air between you heavier than it should be.

“You alright?” he asks, turning to look at you.

You don't answer right away, staring out the windshield, your fingers playing with the edge of the fry wrapper. “I don’t know,” you admit quietly. “I’ve just… been feeling off lately.”

Joel’s not sure how to respond. He’s used to your bratty quips and playful banter, but this—you letting him in like this—feels different.

“You don’t have to explain,” he says, his voice low, gentle. “Sometimes things just get… heavy.”

You nod, taking a small bite of your burger before setting it down, barely touched. “It’s been weird being back home. Everything’s familiar, but nothing feels right, you know? Like I should fit here, and I don’t.”

He shifts in his seat, turning slightly to face you. “Yeah, I get that,” he says, surprising even himself with the admission. “Felt like that for a long time. Still do sometimes.”

You look over at him, really look at him, and for the first time tonight, there’s no walls between you. No snarky comments, no tension bubbling beneath the surface. Just two people who’ve been through a lot, trying to figure out how to navigate the mess.

“You? Really?” you ask, genuinely surprised.

He nods, glancing down at the steering wheel. “Yeah, really. Even when everything seems like it’s where it’s supposed to be, it still doesn’t always… fit. It’s hard to explain.”

For a moment, you just sit there, sharing the silence. It’s not awkward, though—more like a mutual understanding, something deeper than words could convey. Joel finds himself relaxing, letting his guard down more than he intended.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” you say softly.

He smiles at that. “Couldn’t leave you out there like that, darlin’” he replies, his tone soft but firm.

You return his smile, small but genuine. It makes Joel feel like maybe—just maybe—this isn’t a mistake after all. It’s not about crossing lines or getting too close. It’s about being there for you, like he wants to be, like you need him to be.

And somehow, that feels right.

Tag list: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog , @untamedheart81 , @mellymbee , @wintersquirrel , @chyannealaniz , @spiderman-n-n , @ghostofzion , @sjc7542 , @yyiikes , @pedrofan @loveisacowboy @sageluvsjoel

[pedrospatch]

the road ahead l preview (j. miller series)

a/n📝 in honor of hitting 4k followers this weekend, I decided to post a little glimpse at what I have been brainstorming: a full length series for the to do the right thing universe. I have been toying around with this idea for a while now and to be honest, I am really terrified taking on such a big challenge and writing this story, but also kind of excited too? part of me feels like I’m going to be in waaaay over my head but oh well lmao.

the first chapter is still a draft, but this scene is complete. what do we think? should i do it? please let me know your thoughts!

“Frank?” You knelt in front of his wheelchair and placed a gentle hand on his knee. “What is it?”

“We need you to take Gracie with you,” Frank told you, softly. His blue eyes had gone red, brimming with tears that he was trying his absolute hardest to hold back. Behind him, Bill stood there with his hand on his partner’s shoulder and you could have sworn that he was fighting back tears too.

“What?” You and Joel hissed out in unison. While you couldn’t see him, you could imagine the look of shock on his face mirrored yours as well.

“We need you to take her with you,” he repeated.

You stared up at Frank, your eyes wide in pure and utter disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

“Whatever this illness is, it’s progressing fast, way too fast. Look at me. The last time you were here, I could still walk. That was what, just a few months ago?” Frank let out a small and humorless chuckle and shook his head. “I’m getting worse with every day that passes. I can’t do anything for myself, let alone for Gracie. I’m in the most excruciating and unbearable pain and the reality is that I don’t have all that much time left.” He paused, hesitating for a moment before saying, “If I’m going to die, then I’m going to die in peace, not in agony.”

Your heart sank deeply, realizing what he’d meant by that.

“What about Bill?”

Joel’s gruff voice came from behind you, strained and tight.

“He can’t raise her alone. And besides, he’s made his choice to go with me.” Frank put his hand over his beloved partner’s hand, which was still resting on his shoulder.

You glanced over your shoulder back at Joel, who just stood there, the color drained from his face.

“How could we put her through that?” You asked, your voice thick with emotion as you turned back to look at Frank. “Don’t you realize how dangerous it will be for her to go with us?”

“She’s right. We’re goin’ across the fuckin’ country to get Ellie where she needs to be,” Joel reminded them. “We don’t know what kinda shit is out there or what we’re goin’ to run into. So how the fuck do you two expect us to take along a fuckin’ child?”

“Ellie’s a child,” Bill pointed out to him.

“She’s fuckin’ fourteen, not three—”

Frank held up a hand to stop him.

Finally, a tear slid down the side of his face. “Look, this isn’t a choice that we want to make, Joel. But let’s face it. I’m sick and Bill is old. Gracie will wind up alone.” He swallowed harshly, his eyes meeting yours. “I know you just wanted her to be safe, and sure, maybe she was safer with us here than in the zone for a while, but I don’t think that we thought this all the way through. I don’t think we looked far enough into the future. At some point, Gracie was going to lose us both.”

You turned and looked into the living room where Gracie was showing Ellie her favorite teddy bear.

“What’s his name?” Ellie had asked her.

“Teddy.”

She snorted, ruffling her hair. “Real original, kid.”

Gracie giggled, playfully swatting her hand away.

“I know she loses either way.” Frank’s hoarse voice garnered your attention once again. “I know it’s an incredibly dangerous risk, taking her with you. But it’s either that or she winds up alone.”

“We took care of her for as long as we could,” Bill said, quietly. “Now it’s your turn.”

[imtooscaredforthis]

Antagonist

Chapter Twenty Three: Companion

Mentions of: Blood, Guns, Injury, Drug Use, Deathslinger sucks, Typical Trial Shenanigans, and Leon is sexy that’s all

A/N: ITS FINALLY TIME FOR MY POOKIE BEAR TO SHINE

Tags: @dead-bxxxtch-walking @mama-miya

@prettycutebunny @vandeaad

You haven’t interacted with anyone from the Legion ever since what happened with Frank. At first, you felt empty, realizing how much time you spent with them outside of trials, and not the other survivors. They were much closer with each other, having their own bonds and social circles.

You were far too focused on getting out of here to pay attention to any of that. But now as you were faced with the cruel reality of the situation, you realized that you had made a mistake.

While they might not directly relate to you like Frank did, these people were on your side. They all wanted to help you, not hurt you like your old killer friends.

In fact, they have helped you a lot already. Kate saved you and gave you a place to stay when in need. There was also Bill, Chris, Claire, and Leon, who were all good company.

You smiled over at Leon as you continued to work on the generator together. It was nice to have a familiar face in trials. It was nice to have someone you could trust. Someone who was on your side.

You flinched when you heard the sound of a gunshot in the distance. The two of you exchanged knowing looks. Deathslinger. He was always a pain in the ass.

—

You and Leon stuck together as you went from generator to generator. It wasn’t until you had two generators left that you had to split up. One of your teammates had been downed, and the other was hooked.

“I’ll get them.” Leon said, pulling away from the generator. “Okay, be careful.”

“I will.” He gave you a heart fluttering smile as he walked off which got you so distracted that you almost made the generator explode.

Leon managed to save one of Dwight, but got hooked. So after you patched Feng up, you went to find him.

You saved your other teammate, but by the time you reached him, Deathslinger was hot on your heels. You pulled him off the hook as fast as you could. “Run. I’ll distract him.”

You put your body between him and the killer, blocking him off and protecting him. He jammed the blade of his gun into your back, making you yelp in pain. You didn’t care, as long as Leon was safe.

You sprinted through the junkyard, hiding behind piles of scraps and old metal, and used cars, dodging the bullets shot at you. He frowned in annoyance and impatience, and you could hear him grumble and growl with every missed shot.

This is perfect. Just keep him distracted while your teammates can finish the last couple of gens, and everything should be-

Before you could finish that thought, he managed to land a shot, the barbed spear hitting your side. A searing pain ran through you as you dug your feet into the ground feeling him start to reel you in. You clawed at the chain, trying to pull it out or break it off, hissing in pain. Deathslinger laughed to himself smugly, entertained by your struggles. He finally caught you. Or so he thought.

Out of nowhere, Leon came running to your aide, breaking off the chain. The killer let out a frustrated growl, while you stumbled off, attempting to run.

“C’mon, there’s only one generator left. We’re going to get out of here. All of us.” Leon reassured you. That motivated you to run a little faster, but you still couldn’t move at full speed, the pain in your side too great.

Then, you noticed that the gun wasn’t pointed at you anymore. It was focused on Leon. Just as the spear was launched towards him, you dove and pushed him out of the way, tackling him to the ground.

You found yourself straddling him, your face growing slightly flushed. Both of you were panting softly, staring into each other’s eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” As you pulled yourself off of him, Deathslinger approached slowly, reloading his gun.

“Aww, would you look at that? Just two little lovebirds trying to save each other. How sweet. Since you both wan’ta stay together so bad, I guess you can die together.”

His voice changed from condescending to murderous in a heartbeat as he loomed above. He shot again, and it landed right between the two of you, as you both went your separate ways, sprinting in opposite directions.

—

“Hey.” You smiled when you spotted Leon at the exit jogging over to him. Dwight had already left with Feng, so it was just you two. “Glad to see that you made it.”

“Yeah, you too.” He smiled.

“Guess the ‘lovebirds’ made it after all.” You called out mockingly, laughing to yourself. He let out a small chuckle, before turning to leave. “Shall we?”

—

Later that night, you had a long break from the trials. Usually, that meant you were finished, but occasionally The Entity likes to fuck with you and drag you into the trial whe you were in the middle of sleeping. You figured you’d take your chances.

Just as you were about to light your blunt, there was a knock at your door, making you jump. You shoved the blunt and baggie of weed under your bed, getting to your feet.

A feeling of dread overcame you as you wondered who it could be at this hour. If it’s Frank, I’m slamming the door right in his face. I’m not going to forgive him after one shitty apology like last time. I’m done with him.

You reminded yourself as you went to answer the door. You let out a mental sigh of relief when you saw that it was just Leon.

But then you felt even more anxious at him being here. Much more self conscious about you standing in front of him in just your tank top and sleep shorts, and your tousled bed head hair.

“Hey, sorry. Did I wake you?” He greeted, his voice soft. He found himself unable to keep eye contact with you, rubbing the nape of his neck nervously.

“No, no, you’re completely fine. What’s up?” You replied. “I was just wondering if uh, if we could talk?”

“Sure. Want to come inside?” You opened the door a little wider for him to enter.

“Okay.”

[soulofapatrick]

Healing Scars - Joel Miller x Reader

Chapter Three ⇢ Healing Masterlist

Summary: Joel and you spend your first morning together as a couple after coming back from Bill and Frank’s but it of course gets interrupted

Words: 2k 

Warnings: None really; making out at most

Y/N’s POV

Getting back to the QZ after going to see Bill and Frank is always depressing. We made it back just after curfew and Tess when back to hers, pretty much two doors down while Joel and I stumbled inside our small and shitty apartment. I’m beyond tired, my rucksack falling with a heavy thump and it has the people downstairs banging on the ceiling again. I groan, making a beeline for Joel’s very warm and comfy double bed instead of my broken single bed, and falling face first into it. 

Joel’s chuckling, shuffling around the apartment and soon enough I’m being rolled onto my back and Joel is crouched in front of me, unlacing my boots and setting by the bed. Joel’s hands are warm and gentle as he unlaces my boots, tugging them off one by one. I let out a small sigh of relief as my feet are freed from the confines of my shoes. My limbs feel heavy and uncooperative, but Joel seems to know just how to manoeuvre me, lifting my legs and easing me back down onto the bed. 

As I lie there, staring up at the ceiling, Joel begins to tug off my jeans, taking care not to jostle me too much. The denim feels scratchy against my skin as it slides down my legs, but I barely register the sensation. My mind is foggy, my body aching with fatigue. With my pants off, Joel turns his attention to my shirt, pulling it up and over my head with practiced ease. I shiver slightly as the cool air hits my bare skin, but Joel is quick to drape one of his own tee shirts over me, tucking it in around the edges. The fabric is soft and worn, smelling faintly of Joel's cologne. As he settles me back onto the pillows, I feel a wave of gratitude wash over me. I'm exhausted, barely able to keep my eyes open, but Joel is here, taking care of me, making sure I'm comfortable. It's a small gesture, but it means the world to me in this moment. I close my eyes, feeling myself drift off to sleep with Joel's hand resting lightly on my forehead.

*

I’m stirred awake by the warm body shifting around behind me, arm draped heavily over my waist and holding me close. I can feel the warmth of his breath on my back as he buries his nose in between my shoulder blades, and his lips pressing light kisses through the fabric of his shirt.

For a moment, I lay there still, savouring the feeling of Joel’s body pressed against mine, the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back. It’s a comfort unlike any other and I feel myself relaxing into it, my own arm reaching back to rest against his side. It causes Joel to stir, his arms tightening around me, pulling me closer, “Good morning,” He murmurs, his lips still pressed against my back. 

“Morning,” I reply softly, my voice still rough with sleep. I turn over carefully, shifting to face him. His honey eyes are warm and glazed with sleep, fluffy hair mussed from sleep, looking so vulnerable yet so strong at the same time and my heart swells with affection for him. I’m reaching up to brush his hair back from his forehead, fingers trailing lightly over his weatherworn skin, “Thank you for everything,” I say quietly, “Thank you for-“ 

He’s cutting me off with a kiss. It’s slow and lazy, both of us savouring in the sweetness and safety of it. His mouth warm and soft against mine, the kiss having no rush or urgency. Instead, it’s full of sweetness and emotion, conveying an almost overwhelming amount of love and affection that he feels for me and I try to reciprocate those same feelings. I can feel Joel’s body relax against mine, his arm tightening around me and I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer and savouring the feeling of his lips on mine. It’s a moment of pure bliss and I feel my heart swell with happiness. 

Eventually, we break apart, lips parting with a soft, wet sound. Joel pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against mine as he murmurs, “That was a nice way to wake up.” We just lay there, wrapped up in each other, lost in the sweetness of the moment and I’m scratching lightly at Joel’s scalp, watching the way his eyes flutter shut in bliss and feeling the way the rough pads of his fingers find their way under my shirt, rubbing the skin softly and almost lovingly. It draws an embarrassing sound from my throat that has Joel’s eyes snapping open, that honey colour darkening. 

Before I can react, Joel’s lips are capturing mine again, but this time the kiss is more needy, more passionate. I can feel the hunger in his movements as he rolls me onto my back, his strong arms holding him up over me. His hands roam over my body, caressing any bare skin he can find, fingers trailing lightly over my hips, my stomach, my chest. I arch into him, lost in the sensations, my own hands roaming over his back, feeling the muscles ripple under my fingertips. His lips leaving mine, trailing kisses down my neck, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there and drawing a moan from me. His hand lands on my thigh, gripping it and lifting my leg to wrap around his waist, pulling him flush against me. I can feel the heat emanating from him, the way his muscles tense under my touch and the way his body shudders when I dig my nails into his shoulders a little. 

The kiss is deep and intoxicating, the taste of Joel on my lips, his scent surrounding me. I lose myself in the moment, my own body responding eagerly to his touch and I can feel the urgency in Joel’s movements, his body pressing down on mine, his need for me almost palpable. Joel’s fingers are dipping under the waistband of my panties and I’m lifting my hips for him but the sound of the front door opening catches our attention. 

“Joel? Y/N? You guys up yet?” Tess’ voice carries through the apartment. 

Joel groans in frustration, but he doesn’t move off of me, his grip still firm on my thigh and his lips hovering over mine, “I guess we’re not going to be finishing this just let,” He mutters, tone full of disappointment and it draws a soft laugh from me, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and frustration that we’ve been interrupted. 

“Looks like it’ll have to wait for later.” I reply, my voice breathless and filled with desire. 

Joel grins down at me, his eyes bright with an mischievous glint, “Oh, it’ll definitely be worth the wait,” he says, hands trailing down my sides and coming to rest on my hips again, “But for now, we should probably see what Tess wants.” I nod in agreement, still feeling a little flustered and turned on from the interruption. The weight of Joel getting off the bed leaving me cold and empty as he rummages around for clothes. 

I watch Joel as he pulls on his jeans and a flannel shirt, his movements slow and deliberate. He looks over me still spread out on his bed, a soft smile on his lips as he hands me a pair of my own jeans from my rucksack, the ones we brought back from Bill and Frank’s. I drag myself from the bed, pulling own my jeans and my eyes never leaving Joel’s form as he moves around the room. I take the moment to appraise the way his muscles ripple under his shirt as he bends down to pick up his boots, hair still very tousled. It’s a sight that I know will never fail to make my heart skip a beat, and I feel a warmth spread through my chest at the though of being with him. 

As Joel finishes getting dressed, he turns to me and holds out his hand. I take it, and he pulls me to my feet, his fingers trailing lightly over my skin. We make our way to the living room, where Tess is waiting for us, her arms folded across her chest as she leans against the wall. 

”Well, it's about time you two showed up," she says with a smirk, her eyes flickering between Joel and me. "I was starting to think you'd never wake up.” 

I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment, and Joel clears his throat, a sheepish look on his face. "Sorry about that, Tess," he says, his hand still resting on my hip.”

Tess rolls her eyes, but I can see the amusement in them. "Yeah, I can see that," she says with a grin. "But we've got work to do. Joel, you’re working in the burn piles again, sorry. Y/N, you and I are going to pay Robert a nice little visit.” I feel Joel’s grip on my hip tighten as Tess mentions Robert and his men, and I can sense his reluctance when she tells us we’re working apart. But then I shake my head, feeling a sudden urge to accompany Tess, knowing I need to face the asshole and that I’ll have Tess there with me no matter what happens. 

I’m pressing a hand to Joel’s chest, right over his heart, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his shirt and just how fast his heart is beating, and I say firmly, “No Joel, I need to do this.” 

I can feel the tension in Joel’s body, seeing the way his jaw ticks as his eyes flicker down to meet mine, knowing he doesn’t wan the to go after last time. The stitches still there and fresh but I know very well what Robert is capable of and I know how to protect myself if shit hits the fan. Joel’s looking at me for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, and then he’s nodding slowly, “Okay,” He says, voice and low. His gun calloused hands is gripping my chin, thumb brushing lightly over my bottom lip “But the moment anything goes wrong you get out of there.” 

I nod, feeling a surge of gratitude and love for Joel. I know that he ants to protect me, but he also understands that in a world like this he can’t protect me fully and that I need to take these risks for myself. Just because we’re involved doesn’t mean he can suddenly coddle me like I’m fragile and I can see how much that bother me, always having known he’s the possessive and protective type. I’m leaning up to give him a quick kiss, feeling the softness and warmth of his mouth against mine before I’m stepping towards Tess but his hand is gripping my arm and yanking me back towards him. 

Before I can even react, Joel’s lips crushing against mine in a desperate and almost bruising kiss. I can feel the way his hands grip my waist tightly, pulling me closer as if he wants to keep me with him forever. It’s like he’s pouring all of his fear and worry into this kiss, and for a moment, I forget about everything else except the two of us. 

But then, just as suddenly as he started, he pulls away, his eyes locked on mine, “Be careful,” He says, voice low and rough, hand caressing my cheek lovingly as he adds, “Let my sweet girl come home to me.” 

I nod again, a lump forming in my throat as I turn to follow Tess our the door. As we make our way out the apartment building and across town towards Robert’s hideout, I can’t help but feel a sense of foreboding, knowing a lot more hangs in the air now that Joel and I are something more to each other. 

Whatever happens, I’ll make sure I come back to Joel, even if it means fighting tooth and nail to do it. Robert is a sleazy prick and I will kill him if I have to. I will come home. 

------------

The Last of Us Masterlist

TAGS: Tag List Form

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[jolalibrary]

Going anon because I don’t want you to focus on who sent you this (although I’m sure something I’ll say might give me away <3), but rather, I want you to focus in on your amazing self.

Something I like to do in my daily practice is write down a few things of what made me most happy that day… but for purposes of this, I’d like you to tell me which fic (can be multiple) that you wrote makes you the most happy!

Ignore the notes, ignore the traction — which fic of yours makes you the most happy and warm and all the good feelings, and give an explanation (however long you want) as to why🩶

A lot of times, especially in a world like this where the internet and other’s creativity is so accessible, we forget to give our own selves the credit we deserve. This is my way of sprinkling around that little bit of gratitude.

I hope you have a beautiful day wherever you are.

Endless love🌙

I’ve been stewing on this for some time, and I'm glad I don’t have to choose one. because god, that would be so hard. and each time I come to sit to answer, I get in my head.

so, i've popped helen of hammersmith bridge on by bear's den, and if you will, let's hold hands as we embark on the train of wonder into jo’s mind…

so, naturally, i feel like i want to say Do Me Yourself, because it makes me incredibly happy, warm. it makes me want to spend all my time with them and my usual process is to write the ending and work towards it, but gosh, i don't even want to think about them ending. you know?

but then, I also loved writing Anytime. I loved javi coming back and just being in love with his friend he goes to a wedding with. and I loved writing joel at bill and franks house because I felt hot writing it? like i was a person that someone would want to do that with. i want to say The Book Of Love with frankie all lost and healing, stumbling into a bookshop because it made me grin imagining all the shelves.

but then I love, I Like The Way You because it made me feel empowered to be sexy, to be sexual? to make sex about me and not just the person im with after some bad things that happened and that i healed from. then there's din, just in awe of this person he shares a small space with, these two souls who both feel like me a bit when i'm super sad and just unsure of which way is north.

and then, there’s Late Night Texts, this fic that just came to me when I felt so lonely and terrified and sad, and I had a reason, a purpose to literally sit at my desk again. that I then I got to share. that facilitated me finding friends i cannot be without now. and because of that, it continues to make me happy in ways I can’t put into words.

and, that leads me here.

because i don't think i can pick one or even a few. because I just, I love so much of what I do here. because I never thought I’d get to? and it’s such a powerful question, and a good one at that, and one i wish more than anything i could answer.

but when you’re someone who gets depressed and is anxious all the time, you just tell yourself stories to escape everything. to help you put a foot in front of the other and you never expect them to be seen, or even liked. so, in some ways, I can't fathom the idea that this is my day to day. that I have friends who tell beautiful stories and let me into their sandboxes and equally want to play in mine.

because, anon, i can't pick one thing that makes me happy, because all of it does. the writing of the stories, the making them up, the plotting (ugh, even the editing I GUESS), but then, once the anxious window has passed after I've pressed "post", i get a new wave of joy from my work. i get to see people interact with me, friends and hopeful friends talking to me about it, about a character, a line or plot point, and god, it makes my heart so full.

so, while i cannot say i love every fic with the same amount of love as others, i do love a hell of a lot of them. from the pain of luna in nowhere who helped me realise i wasn't as well as i thought, to the airport kiss of javi and crossword; from frankie meeting pg at benny's fight to kissing his best friend called beans. from marcus devouring on a glass table to a thunderstorm fuck with joel, i am so in awe and overjoyed with how far I've pushed myself.

and that i have a space to do it in.

one where thoughtful people like you ask me something like this and care about what i have to say.

jo from 2022 wouldn't believe where jo of 2024 is, so thank you for letting me create things and being my friend and caring what i have to say, whether it's a shit post about brown eyes saving me or something heartfelt like this.

thank you <3

im sorry i didn't really answer this... i hope this was a good replacement instead.

[psychedelic-ink]

Hello! Let me start off by saying that I've been silently stalking this blog and I love your writing so so much! You're a phenomenal writer and I absolutely love your work❤️

I've never asked for anything on Tumblr before, but regarding your Dark Hearted People series(I know you're dropping a masterlist and I am very patient and will wait as long as needed). Do you think you'd be interested in writing the trio going to Bill and Frank's? I can totally see Ezra being his charming self with both the reader and Frank, while Joel and Bill are off on the side being annoyed that this interloper is flirting with their respective partners so openly.

Honestly you don't evennhave to write this, this is just my way of telling you that your DHP fic body slammed me and I'm thanking you for it😂❤️

You are so incredibly sweet, I'm so happy that you've enjoyed DHP as much as you did. Thank you so much for all the kind words. ❤️❤️

I loved this idea so thank you so much for sending it in! Though, Ezra isn't flirting that hard, he's definitely charming and manages to annoy both Joel and Bill lmaodfvfdb

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 - 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐎𝐧

pairing: joel miller x f!reader, foreshadowing of joel miller x f!reader x ezra (prospect)

genre: fluff

word count: 0.5k

summary: you, ezra and joel have dinner at Frank and Bill's.

a/n: timeline-wise this doesn't really make sense but I wanted to write it anyway, can be read on its own. Set before the group realizes they have feelings for one another

It’s awkward. Everything about this dinner is awkward. 

Beautiful, but awkward. 

When Joel had said he knew a place that could keep them safe for a day or two, you were surprised. First of all, you didn’t expect this man to have friends, besides Tess which you might classify as more than friends back in the day. However, you have heard the charming couple’s name quite a few times before; Bill and Frank. 

The sun was beating down on your skin as Bill places a plate of delicate-looking rabbit meat and green in front of you. Joel and Bill sit across from each other, their postures semi-relaxed. Meanwhile, Ezra sits next to you, and next to him sits Frank. Bill sits down with a huff and you get the need to say something. 

“This looks delicious,” you hum, picking up your fork. “Thank you.” 

Bill looks up to you and nods, that’s pretty much it. You notice Frank narrowing his eyes at his partner. “Can you not?” he says clearly and quickly, then he turns to Joel. “It’s been a while since we saw you. How are you?” 

“Good.” 

“Still a man of few words I see.” 

“He is, indeed.” Ezra chimes in, stuffing his mouth full of rabbit and chewing with big bites. “I will be thanking you on his behalf and my own. This is awfully kind and a delicious meal.” 

“Oh, well Bill makes the meals. He’s the cook,” Frank answers with a wide smile. “I just pick the wine—and the friends.” 

You notice Joel glaring at Ezra, the crease between his brows deepening with every bite. They might not like each other, but it’s clear to you that Bill and Joel are made from the same cloth. Their dislike for Ezra is almost instant—though you have your doubts Joel just “dislikes” him—and how the younger man is behaving probably isn’t helping his case. While Ezra is chatting away with Frank, you feel his hand on your thigh. Your skin burns, yet, you don’t move his hand away. 

Your eyes meet Joel’s for a brief moment. He raises an eyebrow and you swallow, turning your attention back to Frank. 

“So Ezra,” Frank says, sipping his wine. “What did you do…before it all went to shit.” 

“Oh.” he looks dumbfounded for a moment, so much so that his hand flinches on your thigh. “I was…uh,” his dark gaze flits between you and Joel. Suddenly you realize he actually never told you what he did before. “I did lots of things. But my passion laid in the arts. Poetry, the piano, writing.” 

Bill raises an eyebrow and speaks for the first time. “A sensitive one,” he cuts into his rabbit right after pointing his fork at Frank. “Frank likes to paint. He's amazing at it.” 

“You have paint here?” you ask. 

“We have a lot here,” Bill answers without looking. 

“We actually have an antique piano inside,” Frank chirps, Bill’s eyes snap to him. You see the silent plea asking Frank to stop. He doesn’t. “Can you play?” 

“I can…” his words trail off, eyes finding Bill’s. “However I wouldn’t want to step on anyone’s toes.” 

Frank waves his hand dismissively, “Nonsense. Come on.” he points at you and gestures for you to follow. “You come too.” 

Joel makes a sound like he’s about to tell you to stay but you don’t. You grab your wine, glance back at him and swink before following Frank and Ezra inside. 

The last thing you hear is both men cursing in unison. 

[caveiratimida]

That moment of Ellie fiddling with her hidden gun in the bathroom reminded me a lot of that famous scene of Taxi Driver with Robert De Niro. I really felt like at that moment Ellie was trying to hype herself up in case she had to do something as teenagers do. Like trying to face this ruthless world with false bravado even though it is all she has known. That was the first crack in my internal dam of emotions.

Honestly, the fact Joel had to really siphon gasoline from other cars was such a nice detail of world-building, and then struggling to explain to Ellie the science for it was FANTASTIC. I really like how it's those little tidbits of a supposed-to-know-it adult with a child full of curiosities where we see their bond flourish, they question each other...

Naturally, the joke book and the magazine scenes from the game put a face-splitting grin on my face. The magazine was expected but I lost it in Ellie's joke book.

Them trying to rest in the forest without fire was such *chef's kiss*! An awkward night on the road. Before the end of the world, it would have been a nice bonding trip. Just the two of them with really no other reminders of people. No Bill and Frank's house with so many things to distract them from getting to bond with each other and no Tess to be the bridge in case they clashed. No comforts so to speak and just two emotionally raw souls. Who find a connection through the most shitty puns which is then the biggest factor that allows them to shed some of their emotional unavailability for the both of them. It was two-sided, Joel went along with it, Joel knew the pun and you can bet he probably told it to Sarah before!!

The fact that Joel stayed awake to make sure it was safe like he had told Ellie. Ellie despite being a girl who saw too much for her age still being fascinated by things such as the goddamn coffee (;﹏;)

The opposites of a hardened pessimist and a hopeful optimist is so nice. You really get the idea that at the heart of it, the show is about hope. In all it's stages. I adored the vulnerability of Joel admitting that whilst what he had was jumbled up and haphazard with Tommy, Tess, Bill and Frank, it was his and it was somewhat good.

I am a sucker for that childish reluctance of "I'm so not tired" of Ellies's to then fall asleep it was so intimate and also showed that she trusts Joel to have her back. IT IS THESE SMALL GODDAMN DETAILS. To then really have them butt heads about directions just as people do.

The sheer rawness with which Joel tells Ellie that the people won't hurt her in any way was just UFF. That entire scene where Ellie shoots that young raider to save Joel's life. Personally, it was extra cruel in my mind that she didn't kill him because that really showed her people in all their survival. He was a mess; he let go of any pretenses and begged for his mother. For me, it was implied she had to shoot Riley, but Riley I imagine was ready for it, she didn't have these final moments of desperation like this man did. Joel killing him away from her was a small mercy, and it makes their whole later discussions about the cruelness of their current world and that Ellie shouldn't have to do or deal with any of it extra heartbreaking.

I ADORE the telling of time and age with Joel in everything he does. the steps, the hearing, the less immediate reactions of his. IT IS SO NICE TO SEE AGE AND ITS FLAWS/BENEFITS ON SCREEN. It only adds to how Ellie and Joel really balance each other out in the sense of survival.

Right, look all the mentioned above produced tiny cracks, and like everyone else I am guessing - I lost it at Ellie and Joel in the middle of all the heaviness finding THE MOMENT. Seeing them carefree and just laughing TOGETHER and WITH EACH OTHER fucking broke me. It reminded me of what the creators of the game mentioned ages ago how Ellie was the first one to make Joel laugh in a long, long time. At that moment everything overcame me with such a strong feeling. And I didn't know what it was until now, I recognise it as hope. What makes seeing them laughing in this shitty skyscraper so ridiculously wholesome is hope. It was a different intensity than the usual survival. It was the same intensity of hope that we felt with Bill and Frank.

Lastly, I am so intrigued about where they will take this with Kathleen and the people in Kansas City honestly. Especially with Henry and Sam.

THESE ARE ALL MY THOUGHTS FROM WATCHING THE EPISODE THIS MORNING!!!

[liebgotts-lovergirl]

Cast your mutuals as Easy Company >:)

Ooh, thank you Anon!! This is gonna be so fun!!

(I have a lot of mutuals so the cast list will be under the cut for the sake of convenience!)

(Also, I'm so sorry in advance if I forgot anybody!! My PTSD has really fucked up my memory so this was just off the top of my head💀)

In No Particular Order:

♥ Dick Winters ~ @iambasilgnome You are the most dedicated & on-top-of-things person I know & if anyone has the makings of our fearless leader, it'd be you! Not to mention, Dick is soooo much funnier than we give him credit for! (Was this also an excuse to write your URL? Yes, yes it was. 😆)

♥ Lewis Nixon ~ @lieutenant-speirs Snarky, self-destructive king fighting his demons & forging lifelong bonds of friendship along the way! Speaks for itself 🤌🏼

♥ Bill Guarnere~ @latibvles The chaos is unparalleled & you never fail to make everyone laugh but also, like Bill, you are extremely talented at what you do & great at bringing people together!! Also those specifically Northern vibes 🤌🏼

♥ Eugene Roe ~ @softguarnere You are the sweetest, most caring soul who is always there to lend a supportive ear & a helping hand, but you also won't hesitate to speak up when necessary!

♥ Babe Heffron ~ @mccall-muffin You are always so full of positivity & are absolutely hilarious! So full of love & loyalty, you make everyone feel like they're your best friend!

♥ Carwood Lipton ~ @holdingforgeneralhugs You are so warm & kind & such a vital part of the fandom but you consistently underestimate your own contributions!

♥ Ronald Speirs ~ @brassknucklespeirs You come off as intimidating at first but when you begin to open up, we get to see the heart of gold underneath!

♥ Don Malarkey ~ @indigo-luvers You're both talkative & sensitive, working through trauma, natural leaders who needs to take care of themself too!! It just made sense to me

♥ Skip Muck~ @bellewintersroe The natural choice as you're both exuberant, upbeat, & generous to a fault with a fantastic sense of humor!

♥ Skinny Sisk ~ @chaosklutz Dude was literally chaos incarnate & I respect that about both him & you for that 🤣🤌🏼

♥ Buck Compton ~ @hxad-ovxr-hxart You both attract friends super easily but also have a tendency to get drained bc you're a sensitive soul who cares a lot about what goes on around them!

♥ Shifty Powers ~ @aerokriegs So kindhearted & far too modest when it comes to your abilities!

♥ Smokey Gordon ~ @sleepisforcowards Both of y'all are sweet, funny, & extraordinarily creative! The vibes are immaculate tbh

♥ George Luz ~ @parajumpboots Literally so many fantastic memes cross my dash because of you, pls consider this my thank-you note 😆

♥ Harry Welsh ~ @wwhatev3r You are so kindhearted, down-to-earth & dedicated to those you care about but you're also absolutely Hilarious, primarily in a sarcastic way!

♥ David Webster ~ @vibing-away Literally so nice & I feel like you definitely have at least one (1) cool shark fact!

♥ Ralph Spina ~ @ourmiraclealigner So apparently Spina was only a Private when he became one of the medics so like you, dude had A LOT on his plate but still managed to make it all work somehow!

♥ Floyd Talbert ~ @auroralightsthesky Floyd is not only a sweetheart and super friendly but also a smut king & an animal lover so I see it!!🤌🏼

♥ Frank Perconte ~ @ax-elcfucker-blog Hilarious but also sweet, chaotic good vibes!!

♥ Johnny Martin ~ @rogue-durin-16 Literally such a cool person with a unique sense of humor! Too cool!

♥ Alton More ~ @multifandomlover01 You seem super cool & really nice but alas, I am Shy-ish & keep forgetting to introduce myself 💀

♥ Pat Christenson ~ @cody-helix02 You're both very artistically-gifted and creative; idk, I just see it!

Thank you so much for the Ask, Anon!! 💖

[renee-writer]

The Heart Don't Lie Chapter 24

AO3

“How am I to forgive her?” Beth lays on her side, beside her. The medicine Claire gave her is working. Her temperature is done. With no fever chills to distract her, she can focus on her mam.

 

“I don’t know. This is huge. But, she will always be your mam. Somehow, you must learn to live with her duplicity to maintain a relationship with her. If, that is what you want. As an adult, that can be your choice.”

 

“You are so smart Beth and you are right. That is the decision I have to make. She wasn’t a bad mam. Really, she was a good one. Showed up at everyone of Willa and I’s school activities, was room mam a few times, chaperoned dances and field trips. I just don’t know if all that can overcome this huge lie. I don’t know who I am. What of me came from this unknown father?”

 

Both lasses sigh. “You need to meet him. I think that would help.”

 

“Aye, but would that hurt daddy?”

 

“No,” they look up. He stands at the doorway, having returned from the lawyer, “no Rose. Beth is right. You need to meet him. You deserve answers to your questions.”

 

“You won’t be bothered by it?”

 

He smiles. “Aye but, the fact that you are worried about my feelings trumps my worry. He is biologically related to you but you are my daughter. That won’t change.”

 

“No, it won’t. Thanks daddy.” He smiles and slips away to let them continue talking.

 

It is right and proper for her to wish to meet the person that contributed half her DNA. Still… Damn Anna and her blasted lies.

 

He is walking automatically to the room he shared with her when he runs straight into Claire.

 

“Crips! Are you alright?” he has her by the arms.

 

“Yes I…”

 

“So sorry. I was…” They are tripping over each other’s words.

 

“Let’s have a seat and a chat.” She suggests. He leads her to where he was heading.

 

She sees the feminine touches in the choice of bedding, the curtains, the lace table coverings. He flushes.

 

“Anna, she…”

 

“Has good taste. It is a lovely room, Jamie.”

 

“Thank you.” She takes a seat at the desk where his ex would sit and pay bills and sign permission slips for the lasses. He perches on the edge of the bed.

 

“Rose’s fever is down. The antibiotics are working.”

 

“Grand news. She has decided to see her bio dad.”

 

She bites her lip and nods. “How do you feel about that?”

 

“Conflicted. It is good for her to meet him. She needs to know where she came from. But,” a sigh as he runs his hand through his hair, “I am her dad! I held her when she first was born, changed her nappies, watched her sleep. I was the one who held her hands while she learned to walk, held my breath with her first steps.

 

It was me she ran to when she returned from her first day of school, full of excitement, me who held her with her first heartbreak, me who schooled the lad who took her on her first date. Now this other man will get a piece of that role, no matter how small. I loath it Claire.”

 

She nods, swallowing hard. His heartbreak is palpable. She has never hated anyone before. She doesn’t even hate Frank, even as she prepared to divorce him. She hates Anna. For Jamie and his lasses.

 

“You will always be those things to her. Nothing can take that away,” something occurs to her, “ she is blessed. The more people that love her, the more blessed she is. You and her mam do. Now this other man may. You can’t have to much love. You will be the one walking her down the aisle, the one who her children call grandda, or whatever you guys decide. He can’t take away from you but he may just add to her.”

 

“Claire.” He stands and comes over to her. Taken her hands, he draws her up and into his arms, “my Claire, thank you.” They simply hold each other.

[et-cant-phone-home-no-signal]

just finished episode 3 and i'm a fucking WRECK

i'm writing down thoughts for every episode so I can just do a master post on it but know I an emotionally devastated and simultaneously so happy they did that the way they did

[2x4plank]

After the objectively saddest act in the game, we get a bit of a reprieve--both in terms of combat and feelings. This piece is gonna be real long.

Despite her chipper attitude, Ellie is still going through it. We get another moment when Ellie is like, "I want to talk about it!" And Joel is like, "No more sad shit. Boss up." Or however that Twitter post goes. He totally has a tramp stamp with that on it.

But God, how many more atrocities is Ellie going to have to witness until Joel allows her to be vulnerable about them? Girlie, you're forcing your coping mechanism onto your child.

Sidenote: Ellie is so fed up with these pallets.

Anyway, Tommy's Dam. I feel like Tommy and Joel keep up that brotherly attitude until they're alone together. It's not completely false: they're in an apocalypse and who knows when they'll last see each other. On the other hand, Tommy is embittered because he was a witness to Joel's horrible violence--his past life as a hunter. I like Joel, but I imagine that's quite traumatic for Tommy.

Sidenote: I feel so bad for Ellie being passed off to adults she doesn't know. When she has to go with Maria (who seems like a nice lady), you can see she doesn't want to. She's just real used to Joel.

Joel continues his emotion-swallowing crusade as he forfeits the picture of Sarah. I imagine Tommy is understanding of Joel's refusal, but probably disappointed that Joel is always hoeling his feelings up.

When they're alone with each other, they can finally show a bit of that dysfunction. I love how Tommy was ready with that, "Wasn't worth it!"

And then continues the trend of shouting matches being interrupted by calamity (see: Bill noticing Frank). Tommy can hold a grudge, because even when the dam is being invaded, he's still comes with that, "You still know how to kill?" Or something to that effect.

Next, we come around to the center point of this act: Joel learning that maybe not talking things over is a bad thing. Ellie suddenly has this bomb dropped on her that he's thinking of giving her up, and seeing as she was uncomfortable being away from him for a short amount of time, shipping her off like cargo is more than a little upsetting. So she embraces the horse girl within and rides off in a fit of rebellious rage. Understandable.

Now her new uncle and messy father must get her back, which is kind of a cool bonding activity. Anyway, Ellie and Joel pretty much lay their hearts bare in an argument. This girl is so afraid of being alone (or left behind, ha ha) after losing so many people close to her. Understandable. And Joel is just Joel, who is probably both afraid of letting someone else into his heart. I don't really have anything profound to say that isn't already said in the argument. Then it gets broken up by more calamity.

After they take care of the hunters, Joel has a long hard think on the ride back home, and decides to keep Ellie in his usual roundabout way: "Your wife kind of scares me." It's very cute. The electricity starts working so now Tommy's kids can watch Despicable Me.

Next act. The University of Colorado! Okay, so Ellie totally named the horse after one of the Savage Starlight characters. I'm betting on it.

I very much like seeing all of Ellie's first times. First time being in the forest, first time seeing a monkey. Cute.

I also love the notes from this act. I remember one small tidbit that some survivors wished another survivor a Merry Christmas, but the speaker is Jewish. It's very human to me.

The most curious thing in this chapter is that Firefly recording. If you play it in full from Joel's backpack, the dead Firefly mentions the Fireflies lack of success in the past. It kind of colored my viewpoint of the Fireflies in a negative light, and unfortunately, I never came around to liking them. We'll talk about that in the piece after the piece after this one.

Then Joel gets absolutely gored in the stomach (yikes! I hate stomach injuries), and Ellie is in for a world of hurt. Poor girl.

Addition: Ellie's command is really good here! I should've mentioned that, but her taking control when she has to was remarkable.

[qkmlh]

Bill and Frank’s story was nothing I expected and it meant absolutely everything to me.

I giggled, I sobbed, I felt my heart want to burst from being so full of love, and heck I’m crying right now just thinking about how to put something so earnest and beautiful into words. Because it’s all so…so simple despite the insanity of their circumstances with the world around them.

It’s two older men who live.

Yes they argue, yes they get into disagreements that drive the other up the wall, but they also compromise because they want the other to be happy, they want to give each other these small but cherished delights.

It’s two older men who fall in love well into their lives, and it’s a love worth a lifetime.

A love that lasts and creates a home so reflective of them both as they grow old and grey and slowly wither away. A love that says my last day will be with you. Together. Not a moment more.

[joeygoeshollywood]

My 25 Favorite Films of 2020

Well, this was quite the crazy year, especially for movies. While many films that were slated to be released this year were postponed due to the coronavirus pandemic, this year still provided some laughs, tears, and thrills both in theaters and in the living room. 

(NOTE: Due to the delayed awards season calendar and postponed Oscar bait films that are unavailable to be seen before the end of 2020, this list will eventually be updated after having seen the following films: The Father, Minari, News of the World, Nomadland, One Night in Miami, Pieces of a Woman, Promising Young Woman)

Here are my 25 favorite films of the year:

25. Kajillionaire 

Quirky filmmaker Miranda July is back with her first feature in nearly a decade. Kajillionaire is a bizarre but captivating tale about a family of criminal grifters and how the daughter reevaluates her strained relationship with her parents after an outsider is welcomed into the fold. Evan Rachel Wood takes what could have easily been dismissed as a goofy caricature in Old Dolio (yes, that’s her name) and turns into a heartfelt portrayal of a woman whose lifestyle of freeloading dictated by her parents (played by Debra Winger and Richard Jenkins) becomes her own crisis. In many ways, Kajillionaire feels like a fantasy that keeps people asking, “What on earth is going on?” And this time, it’s for the best. 

24. Freaky

Revamping decades-old plots like the body-swapping antics from Freaky Friday can either result in a predictable failure or a surprising success. Thankfully, Freaky falls into the latter category. In this horror comedy, a deranged serial killer (played by Vince Vaughn) swaps bodies with his victim, a timid teen girl (played by Kathryn Newton). What makes the film work though are the dedicated lead performances, particularly by Vaughn, who is pretty convincing as young girl trapped in a grown man’s body. With a few good laughs and decent thrills, Freaky is worth the watch. 

23. The Outpost

The Outpost is an intense film about the real-life story of small group of US troops isolated by surrounding mountains in Afghanistan, under the constant threat of the Taliban, which ultimately comes to a head in the Battle of Kamdesh. The film captures the harrowing experiences of these soldiers with heart-pounding action sequences, which are fueled by a solid cast including Scott Eastwood, Caleb Landry Jones, and Orlando Bloom. 

22. Uncle Frank

Paul Bettany may be best known for playing The Vision in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, but he should be celebrated as his title character in Uncle Frank, a touching dramedy set in 1973 about an NYU professor who returns home to his estranged family for his father’s funeral while his niece, played by rising star Sophia Lillis, idolizes him for teaching her to be her authentic self while he keeps his sexuality a secret. Bettany brilliantly balances the coolness of his stature with the internal agony that ultimately hits a boiling point, which is counterbalanced by Peter Macdissi’s fun performance as Frank’s happy-go-lucky lover who accompanies him back home despite his wishes. 

21. Hillbilly Elegy

Hillbilly Elegy was panned by critics over politics that had absolutely no role the film. Based on the best-selling memoir by J.D. Vance, the newest feature from Ron Howard shows the journey of a boy who despite all odds growing up in a poor family that constantly struggled with abuse and addition managed to get into Yale Law School and achieve the American dream. While both Gabriel Basso and Owen Asztalos hold the film together as the younger and older Vance in the present and flashback scenes, Amy Adams as the impulsive, irresponsible mother and an unrecognizable Glenn Close as the no-nonsense inspiring grandmother that turn Hillbilly Elegy into an acting tour de force. 

20. The Trial of the Chicago 7

Oscar-winning screenwriter Aaron Sorkin sits in the director’s chair once again in this courtroom drama about the real-life protesters who showed up in Chicago during the 1968 Democratic National Convention. With themes that resonate today, The Trial of the Chicago 7 benefits from its sharp screenplay, well-paced editing, and an outstanding ensemble cast that includes Eddie Redmayne, Mark Rylance, Yahoo Abdul-Mateen II, Sacha Baron Cohen, Jeremy Strong, Frank Langella, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and Michael Keaton. 

19. Yellow Rose

Broadway actress Eva Noblezada makes her film debut as an aspiring country singer on the run after her mother, an illegal immigrant, is obtained for deportation. Yellow Rose presents a nuanced depiction of US immigration, but at the heart of it is a heartbreaking story of a young woman who struggles between putting her family or her dreams first. Between Noblezada’s powerful performance and solid original music, Yellow Rose hits all the right chords. 

18. Palm Springs

Move over, Groundhog Day. While the Bill Murray classic has largely monopolized the time loop film genre, Palm Springs gives it a run for its money. Andy Sandberg and Cristin Milioti star as the unlikely duo who are stranded reliving the same dreaded wedding day involving mutual acquaintances and their desperate efforts to escape the seemingly inescapable. The Hulu comedy stands on its own two feet for the good laughs, the chemistry between the two leads, and the film’s emotionally-grounded plot.  

17. Let Him Go

Kevin Costner and Diane Lane reunite on the big screen after playing farmer parents in Man of Steel to rancher grandparents in Let Him Go, although this time they are able to display their full acting chops. In this period dramatic thriller, they set out to find their only grandchild following the death of their son only to discover that the widowed daughter-in-law remarried into an infamous crime family. While both Costner and Lane tug at the heartstrings, it’s Lesley Manville, who plays the ruthless matriarch of the family, that really takes command of the screen. Ultimately, Let Him Go is all about family and the lengths one is willing to go to protect it. 

16. Unhinged

In a year plagued by the pandemic, Unhinged led the way to the revival of movie theaters back in August and perhaps in some ways it was meant to be the film to do so as the themes of a rage-fueled society and the lack of human connection carry weight. Russell Crowe stars, as the title suggests, as an unhinged psychopath whose road rage torments a woman and her adolescent son. Unhinged is the epitome of pure entertainment and is why we go to the movies. While it’s not quite the most sophisticated thriller of the year, it’s still one helluva ride. 

15. Emma

Anya Taylor-Joy has had quite the year with both highs (The Queen’s Gambit) and lows (The New Mutants). But it began before the pandemic with the release of Emma, which she stars as the iconic Jane Austen title character, a socialite who meddles in the love life of others while refusing to acknowledge her own shortcomings in that department. Supported with a strong ensemble cast, beautiful production design, and comedic charm, Emma is not to be missed. 

14. The Invisible Man

ln the era of remakes and reboots, very few are as good as Universal’s latest monster flick revival of The Invisible Man. Elisabeth Moss stars as a woman who believes she’s being haunted by her abusive ex-husband, someone she becomes convinced faked his own death and is stalking her without being able to be seen. Filmmaker Leigh Whannell, the writer behind the Saw and Insidious horror franchises, generates good thrills and high-wire tension with the help of high production value and a terrifyingly-good performance from Moss. 

13. Dick Johnson is Dead

Documentarian Kirsten Johnson filmed a beautiful, intimate tribute to her father Dick Johnson, who has been suffering from Alzheimer's in the final years of his life. However, instead of dreading his death, both daughter and father embrace it by having him acting out several scenes of his over-the-top demises. Dick Johnson is Dead may focus on the subject manner of death, but this documentary actually celebrates life and the laughs that happen along the way. 

12. The Wolf of Snow Hollow

Perhaps one of the littlest-known films of the year, The Wolf of Snow Hollow is not your conventional indie comedy horror flick. Writer/director Jim Cummings stars as an overly-heated police officer who attempts to get to the bottom of a string of murders in his small, snowy Utah town by what appears to be some sort of werewolf, though he remains unconvinced. Featuring one of the final performances from veteran actor Robert Forster, The Wolf of Snow Hollow uses its quirky sense of humor to stand out from the rest of the pack. 

11. The Gentlemen 

The Gentlemen is a fun, action-packed, crime caper from Guy Ritchie about the London turf war of drug kingpins. Matthew McConaughey, Charlie Hunnam, Henry Goulding, Michelle Dockery, and Colin Ferrell all round out the strong cast, but its Hugh Grant that really steals the show as the comedically manipulative Fletcher, whose only allegiance is to himself. If you like a stylish film with well-choreographed violence and a fast-paced plot, The Gentlemen should be your cup of tea.  

10. Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

Some of the best play-to-film adaptations are the films that feel like you’re watching a play, and Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is one of them. Produced by Denzel Washington, Viola Davis gives a transformative performance as Ma Rainey, known as the “mother of the blues” and the clash she had with a pair of White music producers, but she also butts heads with her trumpet player (played by the late Chadwick Boseman), who also has his own music ambitions. While Davis obviously gives other Oscar-worthy performance, it was Boseman who was able to show how incredibly gifted he was as an actor. And while the world lost him far too soon, at least his last role ended up being his greatest. 

9. The Kid Detective

One of the biggest surprises of the year was how good a movie starring and produced by Adam Brody was. Brody plays a washed up former kid detective who attempts to revive his once-celebrated career of solving mysteries by getting to the bottom of a murder in his hometown. The Kid Detective is a brilliant dark comedy from newcomer writer/director Evan Morgan with good laughs, plenty of plot twists, and a career-best performance from Brody, who proves he’s more than just the pretty face from The O.C. we all know him as. 

8. Mank

Citizen Kane is widely regarded as one of the greatest films ever made and Mank is a worthy tribute. Gary Oldman stars as the title character Herman “Mank” Mankiewicz, the Oscar-winning screenwriter behind the iconic film. David Fincher (The Social Network, Gone Girl) managed to capture the epic scale of the 1941 classic that would make Orson Welles proud. 

7. Soul

Soul is one of those rare existential Pixar films that goes beyond being children’s entertainment. Following in the footsteps of 2015′s Inside Out, Soul depicts what happens to the soul of a jazz musician who’s convinced his time on Earth isn’t over. While the universe created to explain how souls work and the plot that went along with it falls short of its emotions predecessor, Soul is still high-caliber among Pixar films and a great movie for both kids and adults alike. 

6. Another Round

Perhaps the greatest work from Swedish director Thomas Vinterberg to date, Another Round follows four unsatisfied middle aged men who decide to take a theory of task from a Norwegian psychiatrist, who concluded that maintaining a blood alcohol level of 0.050 will enhance their mental and psychological state. Mads Mikkelsen, who’s best known to American audiences as Hannibal Lecter in the short-lived NBC series Hannibal and the Bond villain in Casino Royale, offers a strong, nuanced performance as one of the four educators who embraces this drinking challenge in a film that provides an equal balance of chuckles, cringes, and emotional gut punches. 

5. I’m Thinking of Ending Things

From the crazy mastermind of Charlie Kaufman, the writer behind Being John Malkovich, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and Anomalisa, his latest on Netflix is too a mind-bender. I’m Thinking of Ending Things is a surreal, zany, and at times disturbing examination of the human condition as the nameless female protagonist played by an incredible Jessie Buckley mulls over breaking up with her boyfriend (played by Jesse Plemons) while visiting his parents’ house. Accompanied with a stellar production design and a crazy-good performance from Toni Collette as “Mother,” Kaufman newest cerebral feature lives up to his iconic reputation of filmmaking. 

4. Da 5 Bloods

Spike Lee is one of the few genius filmmakers who is able to blend multiple genres together and his latest film is no different. Da 5 Bloods is an action adventure, buddy comedy, dramatic character study, and war movie all wrapped up into one about a group of Vietnam War veterans who return to the former battlegrounds to find the remains of one of their fallen soldiers as well as some treasure that they kept hidden years ago. With a strong ensemble cast that includes the late Chadwick Boseman, its longtime character actor Delroy Lindo who steals the show with his powerful performance. Da 5 Bloods is easily one of Netflix’s strongest films to date. 

3. The Assistant

One of the first #MeToo-era films, The Assistant offers the day in the life of a low-level female staffer of a production company who is haunted by the presence of her Harvey Weinstein-like boss (who never actually appears in the film). However, rather than depicting the dramatics of sexual misconduct, The Assistant uses the common subtleties and nuances of the workplace yet maintains the same tension and heartbreak. Anchored by the remarkable, devastating performance by up-and-comer Julia Garner (Ozark), The Assistant is as important as it is well-done. 

2. Sound of Metal

Riz Ahmed gives the performance of his career as a heavy metal drummer and former addict whose sudden battle with going deaf upends his life. Sound of Metal is an incredible experience that gives a rare glimpse in the American deaf community which is enhanced by the remarkable sound design that helps the audience actually hear what the musician is going through. It’s truly one of the most rewarding films of the year. 

1. The Climb

The Climb takes the generic “man sleeps with his best friend’s fiancé” storyline and turns it on its head. In his feature debut as writer and director, Michael Angelo Covino leads as the not-so-apologetic adulterer Mike and Kyle Marvin, who co-wrote the film, is the good-hearted Kyle who struggles to whether or not to forgive his best friend’s ultimately betrayal. Not only is The Climb is quirky and hilariously written, it’s a remarkably well-made comedy with some of the year’s best cinematography. Between a strong cast, a superb screenplay, and the extremely-high production value, The Climb is at the top of the mountain of 2020′s best films. 

[teacupfulofstarshine]

LOVELY, DARK, AND DEEP CHAPTER 10

PLEASE HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS!!! this chapter features Evil Scientist Lady and her Fucked Up WorldView a LOT, and there are also some Major Plot Events that involve Violence. i will put a summary in the end notes if you decide at any point that this particular chapter is too much - that's super valid! i will also mention here that no main characters are going to die in this story and no one dies in this chapter either.

huge huge thanks to @flamingfawkes for beta’ing!

CW: extreme disregard for human life, mentioned human and animal cruelty, toxic workplace environment, violence (both imagined and actual, mildly graphic), gun mention, minor blood, death threats, extremely unethical character, unethical science, stalking

chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5 // chapter 6 // chapter 7 // chapter 8 // chapter 9 // read it on ao3!

“This is the same result we’ve gotten the last twenty times -”

“I don’t care, Steven, run it again!”

Steven sighs, punching at the keyboard to run the statistical analysis sequence again. “This is ridiculous! I’ve run this sequence so many times it feels like my eyes are going to bleed. Why can’t we just turn in the results we have and -”

“Because she’ll behead us,” James snaps, “and then she’ll destroy our reputations and our families and they’ll get no severance. I have three young children at home, Steven, I need this money.” Steven softens a little, fingers running smoothly over the keys as he combs the data again. Next to him, James has a computer screen full of frame-by-frame stills of what little data they recovered from the probe before it was destroyed; Penny across the room is surrounded by ancient texts a mile high and at least three laptops.

“Why is she so interested in this, anyway?”

“It’s beyond me. Since when do we question the whims of what we’re told to do?”

Steven squints at the screen, pushing his chair back and rubbing at his eyes. “If I have to stare at these numbers for one more second, my brain is going to explode. I feel like my eyeballs are going to melt out of my skull. I wanna scream.”

James pulls up another image, staring at the blurry image of the merman before him. Steven pushes away from his own screen and squints at James’s. The merman in the photo looks young, not much older than his kid brother, but they don’t know anything about the lifespan of these creatures. He looks confused, squinting at the camera. As James flicks through the stills, the merman transitions from confused to angry to enraged, and then he attacks.

“He’s not happy about the camera.”

“Would you be happy about someone spying on you and your family?” James says, switching to the next still.

“I wouldn’t be happy if I thought someone was doing anything we do in this lab to me or my family.” James elbows Steven, but luckily no one else seems to have heard.

“This lab isn’t the most ethical place I’ve ever worked, but it pays the bills,” James mutters. “And we’re not even in the experimentation lab. We just do data analysis. We’re removed from the situation.”

Are we? Steven wonders. He sees James reach out and touch the framed picture of his daughters, and keeps his mouth shut. He turns back to his computer, watching the little spinning color wheel of his mouse as the program calculates the same numbers again and again. The results come up identical to the previous ones, and Steven clicks “Run Program” again wordlessly.

They work in silence for a while, the three of them, broken only by James’s muttering and the occasional thud of one of Penny’s books and the clicks of keyboards and mice. If they weren’t so reliant on technology, Steven thinks, there would be an enormous corkboard spanning three of the four walls, covered in pushpins and handwriting and red string connecting images. He debates actually building one, if only to increase the levity in the room, but decides against it.

He’s seen people punished or fired or who-knows-what-else for far less, after all.

Instead, after his program tells him for the twenty-third time that his results are the same (and didn’t someone say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?), Steven scrubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms and opens the data entry window. Maybe the problem with the results has to do with the entry of the data; did he input something wrong? It’s possible . . .

Here he goes again, he supposes. He stands up, stretches, and leans back to crack some vertebrae. “I’m gonna grab a coffee, take a short screen break, and go back to the beginning. Maybe there’s something in the input that I missed. You want anything?”

James groans, thunking his head against the desk. “I want something with enough caffeine to kill three elephants, please.” Steven nods, looking over at Penny. She shakes her head, and he heads for the shitty coffee machine a few doors down.

Several floors below, a young woman pulls her lab goggles up to rest on top of her head with her perfectly-pinned protocol-compliant bun. “The latest round of tests is completely done, ma’am. I think you’ll find the efficacy . . . striking.”

She takes the clipboard, glossy perfectly-painted nails pinching the sheets of thin paper and flicking between them. “I’m afraid I don’t do so well with the scientific side of things - Kathleen, was it? Explain this to me, would you?”

“Certainly, ma’am. As you know, the kill time for the most effective neurotoxin currently available, tetrodotoxin, varies from thirty minutes to four hours. Average time for symptoms to manifest is seventeen minutes, and from there the symptoms progress through tingling of the lips and tongue, headache, vomiting, muscle weakness, ataxia, et cetera. Death occurs as a result of respiratory or heart failure, and the poison is nearly undetectable if you do not specifically test for it.”

“The untraceability is a plus, but that is far too wide a range of times, and too slow a time even at its fastest.”

“Of course, ma’am, but as far as naturally-occurring marine poisons go - actually, as far as naturally-occurring poisons go, full stop - it is the most effective. Until now, that is.”

“Oh? What are your findings?”

“Which trials would you like to start with, ma’am?”

“The human trials, Kathleen. The only ones that matter. I hardly intend to go around killing mice and hoping that no one traces their deaths to a novel neurotoxin.” She laughs airily, and Kathleen nods along.

“Certainly, ma’am. The most recent data points indicate an average efficacy time of thirteen minutes for our compound neurotoxin, with a full range between nine and seventeen minutes passing before subject death. Subjects began to show symptoms around five minutes, give or take twenty-five seconds.”

“And those symptoms were?”

Kathleen flips through the document. “Seizures, vital organ failure, blindness, painful muscle spasms, suffocation from the inside out.”

She hums, tapping a manicured finger against the report. “Well, Kathleen, that is certainly impressive, especially for a preliminary human subject trial. These results . . . I must say, they are not nearly as disappointing as I anticipated when I came down here.”

“Ma’am?”

“How long have you worked for this company, Kathleen?”

“Almost five years, ma’am, but I’ve always been an assistant. This is my first time as lead researcher and biochemist on a project, ever since you . . . laid off the previous lead researcher.”

“Kathleen, let me be frank. These results are not what I hoped for. The efficacy time and symptom onset times are both far too long for my liking, and the range of efficacy time is too broad. By all accounts, I should consider this a failure.” Kathleen swallows, but remains poised. “However, you’ve managed to shave off a considerable amount of time from the tetrodotoxin readings. The range of symptom onset time is an acceptable breadth, and your results are far beyond anything your predecessor ever accomplished for me. This is truly impressive, all things considered.”

“Thank you, ma’am. How should I proceed?”

“I want the efficacy doubled - tripled - I want it upped by anywhere between four and five hundred percent. I want the pain increased, too. Feel free to increase your requests for test subjects, but get me the results I want. You said the original tetrodotoxin was untraceable?”

“That’s correct, ma’am.”

“Can you keep that feature intact?”

“As of right now, it is intact, ma’am. I will endeavor to keep it so in future experiments.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Welcome to your new position as head of this research division. Don’t let me down.” She holds out a slender hand, and Kathleen takes it, trying not to seem too eager.

“I won’t, ma’am.”

“How soon can you start this experiment up again?”

“The cleaners should be finished by tomorrow morning, ma’am, and I can tweak chemical formulas until then.”

“Excellent.” Her watch beeps, and she lifts it, pursing her bright lips as she examines the message she’s just received. “If you’ll excuse me, I have another matter to attend to. Someone will drop off your master access key for Lab Three within the hour.”

She steps into the elevator and lifts her watch up to her face, swiping through the messages from her secretary. One finger reaches out to press the button for the digital analysis labs floor, and the other taps away at her watch.

When she steps off the elevator, her secretary is waiting. “Ma’am.”

“What do they have for me?”

“Unclear. They said it was something they wanted to report directly to you and you alone, but it seems to be something big.”

“Hopefully it’s a big step in the right direction, or they’ll be taking a big step out of a job.” She relishes in the way the employees she passes all unfailingly flinch and then snap to perfect attention when they hear the sharp echo of her heels against the floor. She lifts her head and walks faster, striking the tiles with her heels like a gavel, sharp and precise against a judge’s desk.

The computer labs are disorganized when she enters, but there is a string of promising-looking numbers on the main display monitor. There is a woman surrounded by books and a man pulling up photos on his computer, and there is a third man standing in front of her like a toy soldier. She focuses on that one.

“I hear you have news for me? Make it swift, and make it good.”

He swallows, hard, and her eyes idly trace the line of his throat. If he disappoints her, perhaps she will drive her heel through it, to make an example of him. That would be far too messy; perhaps his dominant hand will do.

“I have narrowed down the location of the missing net, ma’am. I believe it to have washed up somewhere around these general GPS coordinates.” He fiddles with a remote in his hand, and the image on the screen changes. It shows an aerial satellite view of a secluded strip of beach, framed by rocky cliffs with larger rocks studded out into the open water. “It should have washed up somewhere in this one-point-three-seven-mile strip of beach. The whole area is property of one Doctor Thomas Sanders.”

She snarls. “That man. He won’t let us on that beach willingly until hell freezes over.”

The other man, the one scanning through photo stills and video footage, jumps up, knocking his chair backwards. “I found something!”

She turns towards him, and his excitement freezes and sputters into something much more controlled and terrified. “Show me.” He clicks something and pulls up video footage from one of their surveillance drones, zooming in on a particular patch of ocean along the stretch of Sanders’ beach. Her eyes widen when she sees what he’d noticed - a hump of red-and-white tail arcing above the waves before a pattern of ripples streaks off towards the cliff. He pauses the footage, rewinds it, uses a laser pointer to show an opening concealed in the cliff face.

“There’s some kind of grotto in there, hidden by the cliff. It’s on Sanders’ property, he has to know it’s there. And it looks like the merman from the destroyed drone knows it’s there too. Which means -”

“That must be where he’s keeping them.” Something burns in her chest, brilliant and terrifying and all-encapsulating, like wildfire. “We’ve found them, at long last.”

“What would you have me do?” her secretary asks. “I can arrange for a recovery squad at your earliest possible convenience, ma’am.”

“Assemble the squad, but do not have them move out. They will wait for my orders. When they go, you are to go with them.” Her secretary nods, once, sharp and sure. “Dispatch a crew to Lab One and clear it out. I want it prepped for containment, vivisection, chemical tests - the works. Get at least three tanks set up and one strap-down human table.”

“A human table, ma’am?”

“Yes. We have to deal with Sanders once and for all to ensure that he does not ruin any future experiments.”

“Will we be taking him as well?”

She hums thoughtfully. “No. Pull up the file we have on his known associate?”

A few swift clicks and flicks and a photo appears on the large screen: a young man with brown-and-purple hair, sleeves rolled up, carefully lowering a perfectly viable specimen into the ocean and letting it go, like some kind of fool. “His doctoral student, ma’am. The longest one he’s ever kept - this one has been with him a few years.”

“Excellent. When you raid the lab, take him.”

“Should we kill Sanders?”

“No. Rough him up a little, but leave him alive. Taking his protégé and leaving him alone, helpless to rescue him, will be the highest form of torture for such an insufferable person. The agony will eat him alive until his dying day.”

Her secretary nods, taking the notes down dutifully. The other employees look vaguely horrified, but she pays them no mind. No sacrifice is too great to be made in the name of progress, and anyone who thinks otherwise is a weakling who will never get anywhere in life.

She refuses to be one of those weaklings.

*~*~*~*~*

Logan wakes up confused.

He’s warm, warmer than he thinks he’s ever been in his whole life. When he stirs, he moves farther than he meant to - he must not be underwater. That’s enough to send a jolt of concern through his sleep-addled brain. Why isn’t he underwater? Why was he sleeping if he was above the surface? There’s no way his dad is here, and Roman hates surfacing, where are they? Where is he? But he’s so comfortable . . .

Someone shifts beside him, an arm draping across his waist, and Logan forces his eyes open. He shifts his lower half, confused when two things move instead of one, and there are layers upon layers of thin, flat, soft things wrapping around him. What is happening?

Slowly, slowly, his mind clears, and he remembers the events of last night. He grew legs - he was a human, once, before he was mer - he couldn’t sleep underwater with Dad and Roman - Virgil was teaching him to walk - Virgil put “clothes” on him - Virgil was embarrassed that he didn’t have those “clothes” on him - Virgil took him out of the lab to sleep - Virgil agreed to cuddle him since his pod couldn’t -

Logan feels the strange burning in his face again as he shifts. He can’t see well in this new human form, but when things are close enough to his face they’re relatively clear. And Virgil, still sleeping, is close enough that Logan can smell him - he smells like salt water mixed with something sharp and something sweet and something else that Logan can’t quite identify but finds addicting nonetheless. Sunlight streams in and pools around Virgil’s face, illuminating the tangled mess of hair spread around him and flopping into his face, the small puddle of water leaking out from his open mouth onto the soft thing he’s resting his head on, the way his chest moves slowly with every breath. His arm is wrapped around Logan, pulling him close. Logan thinks he might explode if he focuses on this any more, so he rolls from his side to his back as carefully as he can, not wanting to wake Virgil. Virgil tightens his arm around Logan and mutters something indecipherable in his sleep, but he doesn’t wake.

Rather than focusing on his very confusing feelings for the very pretty man next to him, Logan focuses on what he can see of the room around him. He makes a list in his mind of things that he plans to ask Virgil about later today, including:

1: There are many draws attached to the small, smooth cliffs surrounding them. How do they stay there?

2: There are lots of “clothes” scattered all around the floor, and there were several on the bed, too. Is that normal for humans?

3: Last night, Virgil did something that made the room light up with trapped sunlight! How did he do that?

4: How did Virgil get ice to stay in those big frozen sheets in such a warm place to let the sunlight in?

5: How did Virgil make ice into that weird shape that he filled with water and drank last night?

6: How did Virgil get the water to come into this place?

7: Do all humans have a specific area set aside for sleeping? Logan and his pod usually just sleep wherever they can, but Virgil seems to have this soft slab set aside with all of these soft things to be comfortable and sleep in every night. Is this a Human Thing or strictly a Virgil Thing?

Logan looks out through the sheet of ice that protects Virgil’s area from the outside and gasps. He can’t see well, but there’s a glittering expanse of blue that shifts and moves and oh, is that the ocean?

He’s spent his whole life (well, his whole remembered life, anyways) in the ocean, and he’s seen some truly wondrous things. He travels around the world with his pod, he knows the ocean is big, but seeing it spread out like this is . . . awe-inspiring. Logan has never seen the ocean like this, and now that he has he doesn’t think he can ever not see it like this again. It’s like a perfect sheet of sea-glass, rippling and unbroken but dynamic in a way that he never really gets a sense of when he’s beneath it.

He knows that there are waves, of course. There are smaller swells out on the open ocean, and larger ones when the Second Goddess dips her fingers down from the Upper Ocean and swirls the storms to a thundering burst. There are waves along the shoreline, ones that he frolics in with Roman and batter him against the shoreline. There are waves created when he or his pod members surface. But watching the movement of the ocean from up here is . . .

Even with his imperfect vision, he is completely at a loss for words as he stares at the ocean.

Eventually, Virgil stirs next to him, and Logan turns away from the ocean to stare at him. Virgil is close to him, arms wrapped tightly around him, face pressed against him. Logan’s eyesight is not great, but Virgil is close enough that he can pick out little details of his face. There are brown face scales scattered all over him, but they seem to cluster on his nose and his cheeks. Logan has wanted to touch them for a substantial amount of time, and he can’t stop himself from gently settling the tips of his fingers over Virgil’s cheek.

His face doesn’t feel like Logan was expecting. The scales don’t give texture to his face the way that Logan’s do; the skin is smooth and flat. There are little bumps all over, but the brown scales aren’t raised off the skin like Logan expected. He lets his fingers trail along Virgil’s face. His bone structure seems to be exceedingly similar to Logan’s, at least in regards to his head. Logan’s finger rests gently on the curve of bone under Virgil’s eye, and Virgil exhales warm breath onto his palm.

Logan wonders what it would be like to have this for longer than just his recovery period. He wonders what it would be like to wake up next to Virgil all the time, to get to run his hands over Virgil’s face and arms and chest and examine the differences between their anatomy. He wonders what it would be like to learn to walk without falling over, and he feels a sharp, unexpected twinge in his chest as he realizes that getting better at walking means no more closeness to Virgil.

His chest feels strange, like there’s a school of small fish swarming around and tickling his insides and making him feel all foamy, like the froth churned up by a windswept sea. He feels like he does when he’s underwater - free, weightless, mobile, limited by nothing except his own imagination. He feels unstoppable.

Virgil makes a sudden, sharp inhale, blinking his eyes open slowly. Logan thinks that, perhaps, he might not appreciate being studied unknowingly - he hadn’t appreciated Virgil doing it, before he understood what was happening, when all he knew was the loss of his pod aching like a scraped-out seashell. As Virgil wakes up, Logan shifts, turning his gaze to the rest of the room.

Virgil makes a sleepy grumbling noise, opening one eye. Logan chances another quick glance at him, and when his eye slides open Logan is struck by its beauty. He doesn’t get much of a chance to admire it, however, before Virgil is jolting backwards like Logan’s struck him with lightning. Logan is confused, reaching out and gently touching his shoulder. “Virgil?”

“Wassat?! Wait . . . L’gan?”

“It is me,” Logan says softly. “Are - are you upset with me?”

Virgil yawns, jaw dropping to his chest, revealing a flash of teeth and a soft pink tongue. (Logan wants to lick it. Why does Logan want to lick it? Why is Logan thinking about Virgil’s tongue licking his tongue - why is Logan thinking about Virgil - what in the Seven Oceans is happening to him.) “Wh - no, no, ‘m okay, I just - woke up, forgot I had you with me, got confused about another person in my bed.” Before Logan can start to feel bad, Virgil adds, “S’okay if it’s you, though,” and the foamy, floaty feeling is back.

“Did you sleep well?”

Virgil laughs, low and rumbling, and Logan can feel it in his fingers where he touches Virgil’s skin. “I never sleep well.” He sits up, and the fabric of his pajamas shifts to let Logan see stretches of soft, supple skin that he usually doesn’t. Logan wants to touch it. He very determinedly keeps his hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Gotta admit, though, last night was . . . better than usual.”

This appears to be the point where Virgil first notices their position - pressed together, arm slung over Logan, basically cuddling the way that Logan normally would with his pod. (No tangle with his pod has ever felt this . . . electric, this charged, this important to Logan before.) His face flares a brilliant red, and he shifts like he wants to move away but -

“I’m sorry,” Virgil says. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No!” Logan blurts out. Virgil blinks at him a little, and maybe he was a little overly enthusiastic, but - “I sleep in a tangle with Dad and Roman all the time. I have extreme difficulty sleeping without contact with someone else. It . . . helped me greatly.”

“Oh,” Virgil says, face turning redder still, smiling shyly. “That - makes me feel better. Thanks, Lo.”

Logan smiles, and Virgil smiles too, reaching up to gently move a piece of hair away from his face. Logan thinks that, as far as deaths go, his chest exploding (which seems to be getting more and more likely every fifteen seconds he spends in Virgil’s presence, only accelerated by all this skin-on-skin contact they’re having right now) seems to be the most pleasurable.

Virgil opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it was is interrupted by a Ping! noise from across the room. “What is that?” Logan asks. Virgil, sadly, untangles himself from Logan and the blankets, sliding out of bed and heading over to one of the other structures in the room (what did he call it last night? Dex?) and picking up a flat glowing rectangle.

“Is everything alright?”

“What? Yeah, yeah, I - Thomas sent me a text, it’s a little weird.”

“What is a text?”

“It’s a kind of human messaging system, it allows us to communicate when we’re far away from each other.”

“Like a pod call?” “Kind of? I’ll explain more later, I promise, I just - I gotta go down to the lab real quick.”

“I’ll come with -”

“No!” Virgil snaps. Logan flinches, and Virgil softens, crossing the room and gently touching his shoulder. “Hey, no, Logan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just - this message, there’s something off. I think something might be wrong, and I don’t want to put you in any unnecessary danger. Just - wait here, okay? Wait in my room, where it’s safe. It’s probably nothing, he’s probably fine, but on the off chance that he’s not, I want you to stay hidden safely up here.”

Logan isn’t sure why this makes his face heat up slightly, but it does. “Okay. I accept your apology, and I . . . trust you.”

Virgil smiles, soft and heartwarming, and Logan is beginning to give more credence to his “chest explosion is fine, actually” theory. “Wait for me here, okay? I’ll be right back. I promise.”

He leaves, shutting the door firmly behind him, and the foamy feeling in Logan’s chest dissipates a little. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s something . . . off. If Logan didn’t know better, he’d think that he was sensing a predator approaching.

But that can’t be right, he isn’t underwater. His danger senses are likely just overreacting to his disappointment at Virgil’s absence.

. . . Right?

*~*~*~*~*

Thomas is beginning to regret letting Roman and Patton (specifically, Roman) out of the large tank before finishing his first coffee of the morning.

“I want some!” Roman complains.

“Do you even know what it is?” Thomas says. Roman pouts sulkily at him.

“. . . No,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. Thomas gives him the deadpan, no-nonsense, I-am-your-direct-superior-take-the-damn-samples-Virgil stare that he has perfected over the past few years. Roman wilts a little more, and Thomas feels slightly bad.

“It’s called coffee,” he says. “It’s a hot drink that lots of people have in the morning. Some people drink it plain, and some people add things to it to change the way it tastes. It helps me wake up more and get focused to start my day, and sometimes I drink it late at night to help keep me awake.”

Roman looks less like a kicked puppy and more like Logan, eyes wide and curious. “I want some!”

Thomas, taking a sip of his own two-seconds-of-cream-five-cubes-of-sugar coffee, nearly spits it out. He looks at Roman, eyes the very sharp, very detachable, very toxic spines covering his body, and says, “No.”

Roman’s demeanor changes entirely, switching from “curious toddler” to “toddler about to throw a temper tantrum” in a heartbeat. “Why not?!”

“Because when people drink coffee without being used to it, sometimes it makes them a little crazy.”

“I’m not crazy!”

“Do I need to recount to you how many times you’ve threatened me and my assistant since we met you?” Thomas says, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not giving you coffee until I know I can trust you not to stab me with your poisonous spines that cover your entire body and can be fired at people.”

Roman pouts more, dropping under the water and letting out a gratingly harmonious string of mer that Thomas is pretty sure translates to Roman bitching about the coffee situation to his dad. Based on the pattern of Patton’s response, he’s pretty sure Patton is laughing at Roman.

More sulky chalkboard-violin music, and then Roman resurfaces grumpily. “Dad agrees with you and says no consuming strange human foods.”

“Did he laugh at you?”

Roman squints suspiciously at him. “You can’t speak our language.”

“Yeah, but I know what it sounds like when a dad laughs at his kid.” Roman, continuing to pout, sinks back into the tank, presumably to sulk some more. Thomas takes another very long sip of coffee that is definitely too hot for his mouth and turns back to his desk.

Virgil should definitely be awake and in the lab at this point. The samples he’s supposed to be analyzing are sitting in their little tubes, each neatly labelled with locations and dates and times and what, specifically, Virgil is supposed to be looking for. Thomas considers going upstairs and waking up Virgil, who’s almost never been late for work in this way, but he decides against it. Virgil is upstairs with Logan, and Thomas knows that there’s something building between them. He’s not sure how advisable that something is, but he trusts Virgil to make his own decisions.

Besides, he could probably use some practice. His water sample analysis skills are pretty rusty, he’s had Virgil doing them for years. “Virgil, you owe me big time for what I’m doing for you.” He carefully shifts the samples over to his own desk, slides his earbuds in, picks up a pipette, and gets to work analyzing the bacterial and algal concentrations for any abnormalities.

Thomas accomplishes about forty-five minutes’ worth of work before Roman interrupts him by flicking water at him and soaking the back of his neck. “Hey!”

“I tried your name, but your little ear bug things were keeping you from hearing me,” Roman says smugly. Thomas, not for the first time, considers retreating to the closet and throwing beakers until he feels better.

“Can I help you?”

“Dad wants to go hunting and bring back breakfast, but we can’t leave without you.”

“Are you not going hunting?”

“I’m going to stay here and observe you,” Roman says.

Thomas blinks. “Do I . . . need observing?”

“How do I know you won’t sell us out to your little human friends the second you get a chance? If I’m here, I can stop you. Plus, what if you do something to Logan while we’re not here to protect him? No, no, I’m staying right where I am and you can’t make me leave.” His spines ripple; Thomas steps closer to a whiteboard in case he needs to duck.

“I’m not going to do that, and I don’t want you to stab me.”

“Still! I’m staying here! Also, Dad’s bigger than me, and he’s a better hunter cause he’s faster and he’s been hunting longer.

“Does he need something to help him carry all those fish?” Thomas asks. Roman opens his mouth like he’s going to say something snarky, pauses, and stops.

“I . . . usually we just eat what we catch when we catch it. We make a pile of prey and take turns guarding it while the other two hunt. Then we make a sacrifice to the Seven Mother Goddesses and eat what’s left.”

After some debate, Thomas is able to fashion a sling of sorts from some waterproof tarps and leftover anchor rope to tie around Patton’s body. “You can put the fish in this pouch and carry them back here. Will you be able to navigate your way back to the grotto?”

“He will,” Roman says. “Dad knows more about the ocean than any human possibly could.” Another discordant song from the tank, chastising, and Roman huffs. “Dad wants me to reassure you that he’ll be fine.”

Patton settles into the mobile tank easily, and Thomas gets him down to the grotto leading towards the sea. “When you come back, let out one of your pod calls and Virgil or I will come and collect you and your catch. Take as much time as you need, okay?”

Patton reaches up and gently pats Thomas’s arm with one large, damp hand, and Thomas takes that to mean an agreement. “Alright, off you go.” There’s a whoosh and a rush of water as it flows from the tank into the grotto in a clean arc, carrying Patton with it. Thomas waits for a moment, letting Patton disappear into the open ocean, before returning to the laboratory.

Roman, for the most part, ignores Thomas. He asks the occasional question, which Thomas tries to answer in a way that he’ll understand, and leans over the edge of his touch tank, eyes guarded. Every time Thomas sneaks a glance, when he thinks Roman isn’t looking, his expression is wide-eyed and wondrous, like Logan’s usually are, but the moment he realizes Thomas is watching him his entire face closes up like a clamshell.

Thomas wonders what it’ll take to get Roman to trust him, trust Virgil, trust any human. Granted, he doesn’t know Roman’s history with humans, but he and Patton are both fairly scarred, and Thomas might not know the whole story but he’d bet a not-insignificant amount of his monthly income that the giant starburst scar taking up the majority of Patton’s chest isn’t the result of a clash with a marine creature.

He works quietly, fielding the occasional question, keeping one ear on the grotto tunnel for Patton’s return. He’s not sure how long he expected Patton to be gone, but he hears movement in the grotto tunnel far sooner than he’d expected.

“Thomas, what’s -”

“Shhhh,” Thomas says. He stands up, pushing away from his desk, but before he can say anything else, there’s a flood of movement coming from the tunnel. Bodies pour into the lab, swift and strong and carrying weapons that they immediately train on Thomas and Roman.

“What is this?” Roman snaps, bristling. He sounds betrayed, like he thinks Thomas is behind this. Thomas picks up a heavy glass beaker, fully prepared to shatter it upside someone’s skull if necessary, but something heavy and hard strikes the back of his skull and he feels his knees crumple. Roman cries out, and Thomas struggles to push himself up. A hand fists itself in his hair and yanks him upright, sharply. Thomas exhales sharply through his teeth, but before he can start struggling, something cool and round rests against the back of his neck, shutting him up and shutting his brain down.

Roman is puffed up like a hedgehog, apparently fully prepared to defend Thomas despite his strong and inherent mistrust. Before he can begin to attack, Thomas hears the click-click-click of shoes on the hard stone floor. Whoever’s holding his head yanks him back again, and he is forced to watch as a woman walks into his laboratory.

(It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke - a sick, horrible, twisted joke.)

She has black heels, black tights, a black pencil skirt, a black blazer, and a blood-red blouse. Her hair is scraped back into a tight bun, pulled so taut it must hurt, and is held in place with a pitch black stick. She carries a - clipboard? tablet? Unclear - held against her chest, and there’s a sleek silver weapon in her right hand.

“The one from the video?” she asks.

“Affirmative, ma’am,” says the person holding Thomas’s head. The woman nods, lifting her weapon, and fires at Roman. Thomas tries to scream a warning, earning himself another painful yank from his captor, but the projectile lodges itself in Roman’s shoulder anyway.

It isn’t a bullet, but something that looks like a small syringe. Roman swats it out of his shoulder, swaying a little, but it doesn’t stop him from swiping at the - mercenary, they must be - who tries to grab him with his elbow spines. The woman frowns, lifts the weapon - some kind of tranquilizer gun? - and fires again.

Roman screams, inhuman and animal, and tears the newest dart from his arm, throwing himself out of his tank and clinging to the nearest mercenary. His teeth tear into the man’s shoulder, spines piercing through his camouflage clothing and flooding him with neurotoxin. The man collapses against the concrete, alive but unconscious, and Roman snarls at the next man as though daring him to approach. He sways, weakened but awake, and bares his teeth.

“Of course,” the woman says, tapping something on her tablet. “His naturally produced neurotoxin must be providing him with some level of natural resistance. Unexpected, but not a limitation.”

It takes three more tranquilizer darts before Roman finally slumps down into his tank, unconscious. The mercenaries look hesitant to approach him, but the woman reaches for her tablet and they scramble to action at once.

“No - no, stop, let him go, he’s not an animal for you to cart off to your lab -” Thomas starts. The man holding him knees him sharply in the back and he cries out, coughing.

They wrap Roman in thick leather bands, roughly shoving his spines flat and binding them against his skin so that he can’t attack them again. The woman nods, once, short and sharp, and they drag Roman away, letting his head bang mercilessly on the ground. Thomas catches a glimpse of a logo - emblazoned on the back of the jackets, on the back of the woman’s tablet, on the side of her tranquilizer gun - and commits it to memory. He’s going to need it, if he gets out of here alive.

“- your phone,” the woman says, and oh, when did she get in front of him.

“My what?”

His mouth runs dry as she places the tranquilizer gun under his chin, barrel pressing against his throat, and tips his chin up. “I said, give me your phone.”

Thomas blinks. “My - the desk. It’s on the desk.”

She sets her tablet down, picks up his phone, and shoves it in his face. “Open it.”

“I - wh -”

“Unlock your phone, Dr. Sanders. Must I repeat myself a third time?” She rolls her eyes. “Doctorates are wasted on people like you.”

Thomas numbly punches in his passcode, and she swipes through to his messages app, frowning before turning the screen towards his face to reveal a message thread with Virgil. “Is this your assistant?”

Thomas glares at her, he’s not going to give her what she wants, he’s not going to just give her Virgil but then the - gun, it must be a gun, what else would they be holding against his neck like this - pushes into him harder, and it’s probably bruising, and he can’t get himself killed here because then he definitely won’t be able to take care of Virgil and -

“Yes,” Thomas says, hating himself for giving in so easily. “What do you -”

She turns away from him, nails clicking against his phone screen as she sends a text message - to Virgil, presumably, and that makes his heart sink like a stone - before dropping it on the floor and stepping on it to shatter it. “I have a message for you.”

“A - what?”

“Did they really hit you that hard, or were you this stupid before we came here?” she says coldly, picking up the tablet again and tapping at the screen. Thomas groans as the man yanks him to his feet, shoving him onto his chair and pulling a roll of duct tape out of one of his multiple pants pockets. He tapes Thomas’s wrists and ankles to the chair, keeping his weapon trained on Thomas’s temple at all times, before pressing it roughly against his head and gripping his hair again.

The woman sets the tablet on his lab table, and the screen flickers to life, and then there’s a woman in front of a dark black backdrop, smiling at him like a cat who’s caught a canary. “Thomas Sanders. How long I’ve waited for this day.”

Thomas recognizes her. He knows he recognizes her. She used to be his classmate, before . . .

His head hurts, so badly that he can barely keep his eyes open, and the memory slips away. “You . . . why are you doing this?”

“Why? Because I am a real scientist, unlike you. You refuse to do what is necessary, what must be done for the progression of the species. The sacrifice of some worthless animals is necessary for humanity to reach its zenith. You would really hinder the entire human race for the preservation of lower life forms?”

“Wh - I -”

“You think that ‘preserving the ecosystem’ and ‘keeping animals alive’ makes you a good scientist, but it makes you weak. You are weak, Thomas Sanders, and if the world was left in the hands of people like you, the human race as we know it would die out in a few centuries. Fortunately, there are people like me, who understand what must be done.”

“Caring about other people and things - it doesn’t - it doesn’t make you weak,” Thomas says, chest heaving, and the woman just laughs.

“One of many logical fallacies to which you subscribe, Thomas. They really gave you a doctorate? Of course caring makes you weak. All emotions make you weak. They corrupt your data and make your experiments worthless. You must be ruthless. You must be willing to do whatever it takes to pursue your goals and achieve the height of success. But no.” She rolls her eyes, face hardening, twirling a pen in her fingers. “You insist on ethics and principles and letting emotions cloud your judgement, and that makes you a failure as a scientist. It makes you weak. Your attachments will be your downfall.”

Thomas’s eyes slide shut, head pounding, and the man behind him yanks at his hair so sharply that he knows some has been ripped out. He forces his eyes open in time to see a smile slide across the woman’s face like a knife, teeth gleaming white as sun-bleached bone.

“You won’t - get away with this,” Thomas manages. He grinds his teeth together and curls his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms to keep himself awake. “If you leave me alive -” Thomas, stop talking, why are you reminding her that she has the option to fucking kill you “- I will not rest until I find you. I’ll - you can’t -”

“You’ll what, Thomas? If you call the police, you’ll expose those creatures you’re so intent on protecting to the world. Are you really willing to take that chance?” Before Thomas can even begin formulating a response, she steamrolls him. “It doesn’t matter. Even if you were, I’m going to take some . . . insurance, shall we say.”

“Why not just kill me?” Thomas spits. Excellent idea, Doc, poke the murderous lady with a stick like a god damn hornet’s nest, the tiny Virgil in his brain hisses. Her smile, somehow, only widens, and that’s . . . that can’t be good, can it? Smiles are supposed to be good! They’re supposed to make you happy, but all Thomas feels is creeping dread and pain, so much pain, and -

Yeah. He’s . . . pretty sure he has a concussion.

“Because if I kill you, you get to take the easy way out. Your suffering will end. But unlike you, I don’t put limits on my science. I know how to cause you the maximum amount of pain.”

Thomas eyes the toxin gun, but the on-screen woman just laughs. “Not yet, Thomas. We need something from you, first.”

“You already took Roman,” Thomas says. “What more can you possibly take from me?”

“You named it? You’re even weaker than I thought.”

“He told me his name, he’s not an it, he’s not a thing for you to play with and - and I -”

There’s a strange sinking feeling in Thomas’s chest as the woman onscreen laughs. “I knew you were emotional, Thomas, but I can’t believe this! It looks like I’ll have more hanging over your head than you thought.”

“You -”

“Say, Tommy-boy, have you heard from your precious little assistant recently?”

Thomas’s entire body flushes ice-cold and then white-hot, immediately struggling against his duct tape bindings despite the man tearing at his hair and shoving the gun into his neck and snapping at him to shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up before I do something we’re both gonna regret -

“Don’t you touch him!” Thomas snaps. “If you hurt him, I swear to God -”

“You’re not in a position to be making demands, and if you don’t calm down, I’ll paint your boring little lab bright red.” Thomas freezes, holding his entire body tensed like electricity is running through his blood.

There are footsteps on the stairs. “Doc? I got your text, what’s -”

“Virgil, run!” Thomas chokes. Virgil comes around the corner, holding his phone, staring at the screen in confusion. He looks up, eyes widening in horror as he takes in the scene.

“You know what to do,” the woman onscreen says. The other woman lifts her tranquilizer gun, and Thomas is sure that he’s screaming, his mouth is open and sound is coming out but his blood is rushing through his ears and his heart is pounding like waves against a boat in rough sea and he can’t - he can’t -

Virgil turns to run, but the tranquilizer dart hits in him the back of the neck and he collapses like a sack of bricks. The woman lowers her gun and jerks her head at the two remaining conscious, unoccupied mercenaries, who step forward and grab Virgil.

“Let him go!” Thomas screams, and his throat feels raw and his chest feels raw and his wrists are rubbed raw and his soul feels hollow and raw, like he’s been scraped out with a jagged piece of metal and only an empty shell remains. Virgil’s head lolls against his chest as they drag him down the grotto tunnel, and Thomas struggles and screams and stares after them until Virgil is out of sight.

His face is damp, and his eyes are burning, and he isn’t sure if it’s blood from his head wound or tears or some strange, morbid mixture of both.

“The greatest torture of which I can conceive,” the woman onscreen says, and it takes him a moment to realize that oh, she’s talking to me, “is to leave you alive, knowing that your precious little protégé is with me, and that there is nothing you can do about it.” She leans forward, and any trace of a smile is gone. “If you try to come after me, I will kill him. If you call the authorities, I will kill him. I already found you, Thomas. Don’t think I’m not watching. If I catch so much as a whiff of you planning something, his blood will be on your hands. Do you understand me?”

Thomas, numb and shocked, can’t even respond. “Knock him out and bring the specimens back to me,” the woman onscreen says.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He doesn’t even feel the tranquilizer dart hit his neck, but he welcomes the sweeping darkness.

(Summary: Evil Scientist Lady has been spying on Thomas and she finds the entrance to the grotto where our mer friends have been hiding. She sends her assistant and several armed thugs to invade the lab, they drug Roman with tranquilizers and kidnap him. Thomas gets knocked around a lot and is mocked for being an ethical scientist and caring about people by Evil Scientist Lady and she gloats at him through Evil Facetime before kidnapping Virgil in the same way they did Roman, knocking Thomas unconscious, and leaving him tied to his lab chair. During this whole scene, Patton is out in the open ocean hunting and Logan is safely hidden in Virgil's room.)